Hi guys, it's Monday, and I wrote this instead of doing my Geometry homework unfortunately (I'll be wishing I hadn't by first period tomorrow) but I really like this chapter, so much. Of course, I always like to be thinking of Malik's character because I love his place in this story passionately. I've found that his conversations with Altair are always fun to write for some reason, don't know why though.

For reference, their ages:

Altair: 19

Desmond: 6

Ezio: 3

Malik: 20

Disclaimer: Assassin's Creed does not belong to me.

"Hey Malik, come play with us!"

"Yeah Mal, come on!"

Malik glanced over at Altair, who was sleeping on the couch again before standing and making his way toward the back door where Ezio and Desmond were standing. Ezio ran outside while Desmond turned to him. "Ezi, come back you forgot your jacket!"

Ezio made a face as he came back to the door where Desmond was holding both of their jackets. Malik watched them quietly while he put on his own jacket. He was suddenly reminded of himself and Kadar when they were little, when their parents weren't readily available to help them. He shook his head slowly as the two children ran outside, he followed with a small smile.

"Make sure you close the door Malik!" Desmond shouted and ran toward the other end of the yard holding a Frisbee. "It would be bad if we woke Altair up."

Malik's eyebrows furrowed and Desmond threw the Frisbee. "Is Altair like that a lot?" he asked.

Desmond nodded and Ezio caught it. "He was like that a lot at Mommy's house after he'd be out late on missions. Mommy always told us it was better to let him sleep because he was doing dangerous things at night. When he was awake I always told him that he shouldn't be doing those things if they were so dangerous and he does them anyways."

"He never listened to you?"

Desmond nodded. "I started telling him that all the time after that accident."

"What accident?"

Desmond caught the Frisbee. "Nice job Ezi!" he shouted to his younger brother.

Ezio jumped up and down and clapped his hands. "I did it!"

Desmond threw it again before looking up at Malik. "You remember, when Altair got all those burns on his back, when they made him go to The Hive."

Malik sat on the grass, watching Desmond. "You remember that?"

Desmond nodded. "I accidentally walked in when the medic's were bandaging him up in the living room. It was really scary."

Malik gave him a sympathetic look. "But," Desmond added as he caught the Frisbee again. "It also showed me that Altair's really strong. I know he won't go away like mommy and daddy did."

Behind him, Malik heard the door slide open. Altair walked outside still looking sleepy. "Afternoon," Malik greeted him.

Desmond and Altair both dashed over to their brother. "Altair, play with us!" Desmond insisted.

"Yeah, play! Play!" Ezio said.

Malik watched the trio, the two younger boys looking so excited and Altair smiling at them. "Okay, okay," he said. "Give it here."

Altair held the Frisbee. "Go long!" he shouted.

Both the younger boys squealed and ran across the yard. Malik laid back and stared at the sky. It was nearly spring. He closed his eyes, focusing on the wind and the laughter. "Malik!" suddenly a weight was flopped onto his stomach.

"Oh, hello," he said and looked up to see a giddy Ezio, laying across his torso.

"This is a family game," he said. "That means you play too."

Malik chuckled and sat up. "Alright, let me up."

Ezio was tugging Malik over by his hand. "Did you know Desmond's birthday is next Friday?" he asked.

Malik glanced at Desmond who was jumping to catch the Frisbee. "No, I didn't know that."

Ezio nodded to himself. "He's really hoping Awtair won't have a mission that night a'cause he's always had a mission on his birthday and on most holidays."

"Really?"

Ezio nodded. "Desmond always waited by the front door with a weird look on his face. Mommy always told him to come watch TV or come eat dinner but he'd always wait at the door until Awtair came home. Did you know, on that night when Awtair came home with burns, it was Desmond's birthday then too?"

"How do you remember that, it was two years ago?"

Ezio smiled up at Malik, letting go of his hand in favor of running toward Desmond. "Mommy told that story when I first saw the burns on Awtair."

Malik had never really seen the burns, just heard stories from other members who'd seen them. If Ezio, as young as he was, knew what they were, they must've been pretty big. He glanced at Altair. Thinking about it, he didn't notice any burns when Altair had been wearing the vest at Tamir's theater. He almost wanted to- "Malik!"

Suddenly Malik's face was met with the Frisbee. Not a moment later Altair was rolling in the grass laughing. Ezio's face twisted into deep, sad concern. "Don't laugh Awtair! He's hurt!"

"He's not hurt!" Altair laughed. "Unless you count his pride."

Malik scoffed. "I'm going inside," he said.

Ezio ran behind him. "No Malik! Stay out here!"

Malik sighed and stared down at the tiny boy's pleading gaze. "Fine, but I'm not playing with you three anymore."

Ezio perked up before running back out. Malik sat down as Altair walked over to him. "What?" Malik asked. "Too tired to play with two little boys?"

"Well, to be frank, yes," Altair replied and flopped down onto the ground beside him, rolling onto his stomach, spread eagle on across the grass.

Malik looked down and noticed Altair's hoodie up and his sweatpants low on his hips, showing off the small of his back. Malik's look turned to one of confusion at the white and pink, mutated marks marring the pale skin there. "What's this..?" he muttered and prodded the marks gently.

Altair's eyes shot open and he recoiled, rolling onto his back quickly. "Nothing," he said quickly.

"Your back," Malik said. "Could those be the burns your brothers both mentioned?"

Altair avoided Malik's gaze in favor of examining the clouds blocking out the sun. "Perhaps," he said.

"Why did I not see them when we went after Tamir?"

"The deceptive power of good makeup," Altair replied.

"Could I se-"

"No," Altair insisted quickly. "It's disgusting."

"How did you get make up there by yourself?"

"Not by myself," he replied. "My brothers are not foreign to my scars."

"So I'm not allowed to see? Aren't I your best friend?"

Altair stared into Malik's eyes with sad uncertainty. "Yes, but I'd rather you not have to face the broken sides of me if you don't have to."

Malik dropped the subject and stared out at his friend's younger brothers. "If something were to happen," Altair began quietly. "You would take care of Desmond and Ezio for me, right?"

"Well yes, but what 'something' is going to happen?"

Altair shrugged, his eyes closed to the sky. "Nothing yet, but I'm not as indestructible as everyone seems to think I am."

"I know you're not indestructible," Malik said. "No one so stupid could possibly be so difficult to dispose of."

Altair laughed. "You're too kind Malik."

"Only to you, my friend." There was silence for a long moment. "You still haven't heard from Maria?"

Altair sighed. "I did manage to catch her one day," he replied. "She said she moved across the country and she'd call back eventually. She said she'd explain everything then but…"

"But what?"

"When she told me goodbye on the phone, it seemed a little more definite than it should've."

"How so?"

"I don't know," he muttered. "I told me she wasn't going to stay there long but I've got a feeling she left for good and I probably won't be seeing her again."

Malik was a little confused at the slight relief that flooded through him after that. "What's done is done my friend," he said. "If she doesn't come back it's probably because of something important so I wouldn't worry about it much."

"But still," Altair replied. "I can't help but feel like there's something else going on."

They sat in silence again, Altair lazily rolling onto his stomach again to sleep. "Man, I love Sundays," he said.

Malik once again eyes the scars peeking out of the bottom of his shirt. "I'm going to go make lunch," he said, tearing his eyes away from the marks. "I'll call you guys in when it's ready."

Altair rolled over quickly. "I'll come help you," he said.

"You sure?"

Altair nodded enthusiastically. "We both know I'm the better cook of the two of us anyway."

Malik made face. "Says you."

"Says the always burnt toast."

"Shut up."

"Now why would I ever want to do that?"

"Because I'm the only reason you're living here."

Altair pouted. "Fine Mister Meanie-pants."

"Meanie-pants?"

"Listen to my younger brothers, you'll learn a thing or two."

Altair started making macaroni and cheese while Malik sat at the table. It was quiet for a while, save for the sound of hard noodles bumping together in the box as Altair twisted it around to find the directions. After the water was boiling Altair sat at the table across from Malik. Malik was confused at the concentrated look on Altair's face. "What is it?"

Altair looked up at him cryptically. "Do you really want to see them?"

"See what?"

The look in Altair's eyes seemed to answer the question. "Not if you don't want me to."

Altair shrugged. "It's not that big of a deal, you're letting me live with you after all."

Malik instantly felt bad about his earlier comment. "I didn't mean that, I was-"

"Speaking the truth."

Malik was quiet and Altair stood and removed his shirt. He almost held his breath when the other man turned to allow his access to the marks. They weren't pink so much as wrinkled and twisted scars. Malik absently reached out to touch it and suddenly found himself pushed backwards off his chair with Altair crouched facing him, a dazed look over his intense features. He eyes were wide as he stared at Malik. "What just happened?" Malik asked, pulled himself back onto his feet.

Altair was standing again, his back to the opposite wall, avoiding Malik's eyes. "I'm really sorry," he said. "I just… don't like having them touched without something in between."

"Oh… no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have tried to…"

The back door burst open and in ran Desmond with his cheek flushed from physical exertion. "Guys I just-" he took a moment to look at both adults in the room. "Oooh," he said. "The scars."

Altair pulled his shirt back on. "Lunch should be ready in like twenty minutes Des, go play," Altair said.

Desmond nodded slowly before going back outside. "Perceptive, isn't he?"

Altair just sat down at the table quietly.

.o.o.o.o.o.

The following Thursday Malik and Altair were on their way back to headquarters after a late mission, another assassination. "You look tired," Altair said.

"Hm? Oh yeah, haven't slept much this week."

Altair chuckled. "Why not?"

Malik shrugged. "Just haven't been sleeping well I guess."

Altair cocked an eyebrow. "So you have been taking extra missions lately."

Malik made a face. "How'd you know?"

"Easy dummy, you just told me."

Malik frowned. "Well it's not without good reason. Overtime pay is a lovely thing."

Altair chuckled as they entered the building and was crossing his proverbial fingers in hopes he wouldn't get an extra mission tacked on or else he'd end up sleeping through Desmond's birthday again. "Malik, Altair, come in."

They greeted the older man before reporting the mission. "Wonderful," the old man said. "Malik, you may leave."

Altair felt his heart drop until he realized Malik had knelt to his left. "Not to be of inconvenience master but, we made a deal did we not."

Al Mualim sighed. "Fine, Altair is allowed to go home tonight, go wait in the hall if you want to be sure. I have to speak with him regardless."

Malik nodded with relief before hurriedly leaving the room. At the door he waited and subsequently eavesdropped.

"What did Malik deal with you?"

"Nothing of concern, just a few extra nights work in exchange for time off the rest of tonight and tomorrow. In any case, that's not important. You're aware of your current position Altair."

"Yes sir."

"If you cannot fulfill your requirements before June you'll have the countdown put on you, you understand."

Altair's voice seemed shaky on Malik's ears. "Yes master."

"Seven men remain Altair, do not forget."

Malik backed away from the door, thoroughly confused. Altair walked out a moment later and after closing the door behind him threw a hug onto Malik. "Thank you, thank you so much."

"It was… nothing," Malik replied. "But what was that about fulfilling requirements."

Altair froze. "It's not important just yet, I still have-"

"Three months, roughly."

Altair's jaw was clenched. "We ought to talk about this huh?"

Malik nodded slowly. "What's this about?"

"You know of the three-hundred men rule; once you've kill three-hundred people you have a set amount of time to kill sixty more before The Countdown starts."

"It's the amount of time to kill the sixty like a year and a half though? Surely that would be easy for you."

"I was not informed of my numbers until five months ago, if you were wondering why I've have had so many late missions."

"But there're only seven more, surely three months is plenty of time to-"

"That's what I'm afraid of. These last seven are very specific people of very high social standing. If I get caught on any of them my Countdown will start immediately after and then I'll have ten days to tie up loose ends before our master puts out a hit on me."

"What? That hardly seems fair. He's trained you since we were children, he knows your capabilities so what is the need of this type of test?"

Altair shook his head. "Nothing is true, everything is permitted. He can do whatever he wills, he is our master. Any semblance of a "good relationship" with that man could easily be a lie if you look at it the right way. He cares not for us as individuals."

Malik ran his hand through his hair, knocking his hood off. "Three months though, I mean it's just so short a time. I didn't-"

"Didn't what?"

Malik looked at Altair, the gold eyes boring into his face with uncertainty, a look that didn't seem right on his face. Malik realized in that moment just how much he wanted to say to the younger man and how little time he might have had to say it. He realized what that relief when he learned of Maria's leaving and just what that invisible tug in his chest he felt every so often had meant.

But standing in the halls of the headquarters, staring at his friend, he knew he couldn't tell the younger man anything. He settled hugging him. "I didn't quite understand what you were implying when you asked if I would take care of Desmond and Ezio. I'd be glad to take them in if the need arises."

Altair hugged the other tiredly. "Thank you."