The wind is cold, even in the summer. There's things to be done, and now that they've found him, they have to work quickly before he finds out. Almost five hundred years it took to find Il Mentore, and she will not let him slip again. This time, she will bring him back, even if that's not what he wants. The Order needs him, now more than ever to guide them.
She needs him.
She soars through the Chicago skies, jumping over buildings like simple stones in her path. She has found him around here, but everytime he's close, his scent and his trail vanish. As expected of the Mentor. Did her companion have better luck in finding his trail again? She only hopes. The woman lands besides him and the man sitting on the ledge smiles, playful and mischevious.
"You know, if I had been told I would be so close to Il Mentore, I'd have asked that man if he was perhaps smoking too much hashish."
She rolls her eyes. "Shǎguā."
"Why so serious, arkadaşım? Do you think he will take flight again?"
"That is indeed what I fear. Why does he not wish his rightful seat? Why run away?"
Her companion looks down at the street, where a car, a white Jetta, easily navigates through the traffic. In that car is the one who would take them to the Mentor. He chuckled and shrugged, standing up and moaning in satisfaction as his back popped and cracked.
"He has his reasons. Maybe we're not cool enough for him." He looked at her, brown eyes twinkling with amusement. "Or maybe he's truly retired. Wasn't that what he told you last time?"
"Then why leave clues so we could find him?"
"Maybe he's being tembel about it. Agh, how am I to know? He's always been too serious, though I've heard from some Novices that he's lightened up quite a bit."
She scolds at nothing and sighs. They both jump forwards, running to keep up with the car and watching the driver. She's dialing her cellphone but suddenly throws it at the car seat as if she's changed her mind.
"I'm surprised." She yells over the roar of the wind.
"At what? That he has a Kaleci?" He answers back, smiling. "We may be iblisler, but we're still human at the core. We get lonely too!"
"Nǐ shì yīgè shǎguā. That is not what I meant. He also has another with him. One like us, if what the Novices say is true."
"Isn't it sad that we have to take what the Novices say to heart? I miss the days when we could walk out in the sun."
"That is also another reason to find him."
He blinks in confusion and gives her a questioning glance, just as the car enters what seems to be an abandoned warehouse.
"In a letter we found, meant for Leonardo da Vinci, he mentioned the probability to a cure. But it was lost."
"The letter?"
"No, the actual recepy for the cure, found by Master Malik A-Sayf in a Codex he wrote long ago. That is what he has been searching for all this time, and perhaps, he has already found it. Can you imagine what would happen if the Templars managed to grab a hold of it? We would be turned back to mortals against our will and the edge we have would be lost."
"So you are not only searching for him for guidance. I think that'll get him angry."
She watches her companion chuckle and shake his head lightly, but she frowns. A blonde woman gets out, grumbling to herself. She hopes at least the Ménjiàng knows of the Codex. The information is not only crucial but dangerous as well and, if necessary, she would take it by force. Just as she always had. She would not fail the Order this time.
The warehouse is silent. This is a rare thing and Lucy wonders if this is an omen of sorts. Desmond hasn't come back, not since the quarrel and he's been gone for a month now. She feels she should call him and apologize but that's a ridiculous thought. He should have done something. He should have acted and he didn't.
She still feels like shit though.
Sixteen is somewhere in the massive refrigerator last she checked. She should go and check on him again but she's still glaring at her cell phone and wondering what to do. Or not do. Which ever. Being alive should not be this complicated.
A crash brings her out of her revere and she bolts towards the now loud wails, turning higher until the pitch hurts her ears. The speed with which she launches herself from the second floor railing to a bunch of pillows Desmond usually lounges about in (something about being reminded of a Bureau) is amazing and brought on by years of careful training (and pleading that she wanted to also learn how to be a sneaky creature of the night, without the creature of the night part of course. Maybe Batman creature of the night type.)
Sixteen is lying in a mess of armors and swords, old trinkets that as Ezio Auditore, Desmond simply won't leave in one place (or donate to a museum. It's such a fucking hassle when they have to move.) He's wailing and flailing about, as if all of those things will gobble him up if he doesn't make enough noise.
"Sixteen! Six-Sixteen!" She has to yell over the commotion he's making. Her hands reach out and she's able to take a hold of his arm, pulling him back and into her own, hushing and whispering to him.
"There!" He yells, silver eyes wide and frantic. He's pointing to one of the few windows unboarded or unbroken, though completely tinted over. "Th-They watch w-with hun-hungry eyes!"
Lucy sighs and cradles him, because how else can she assure him that there's nobody there except for what he's imagining? "It's okay, Sixteen. I'm sure they won't hurt us. We're safe here. How about I make you a cup of tea? That always calms you down."
He continues to whimper, muttering about the hungry eyes but he actually follows her towards the kitchenette. Well, she wanted excitement, there she had it. Now if only Desmond called her.
Now, Shaun has never been a hater (no, actually, yes he's been. Towards idiots. And waffles. He hates those ridiculous squashed hot cakes), but to say Desmond has been distraught, and said misery is in turn making him angry, thereby transferring that anger to him via osmosis or some bloody crap is a good reason to glare the ever loving shit out of the poor freshman who misplaced his card and wants a new one, is a very good reason to hate.
It's not that he's ranting or anything but could the bloody git just call Lucy and apologize for whatever the heck he did? It's like commuting with a depressed puppy. Disturbingly cute and wonderfully horrible. Not to mention they haven't had any sex and that makes him quite annoyed, not to mention stressed. He deserves to be pampered now and then!
As the poor brat (they will all be brats in his eyes. Always) runs away from him half-scared to death and half-summed in misery as well, he checks his cellphone again. No messages. He snaps it shut, angry at the goddamn wallpaper. He remembers that. They'd gone out to another park in the middle of the night and he'd been pleasantly surprised to find himself in an amusement park. The picture had been taken on the Ferris wheel with Desmond's phone and afterwards sent to Shaun's so they would match.
How ridiculously corny.
And yet, he was opening his phone to look at them in the picture, quite happy and content. Why couldn't they just stay that way? For a prolonged period of time, preferably.
"Dude, you look like shit."
He glared at Rebecca who only smirked back.
"Hello Becca. Go away."
She did quite the contrary. Her backpack was heaved into the counter which she then leaned on, showing what he supposed would be counted as cleavage. But what with her lack of assets...
"I thought you had that reserved for Desmond only."
His gaze would one of these days kill people with nothing but his sheer force of will and hatred. Lasers sound good enough.
"Yes, Becca, I have insults reserved solely for some people. Like when I call you a child or doubt on your supposed womanly traits."
"Ow, harsh, so he hasn't called you then."
He wants his laser sight. Now. "Kindly keep yourself to your own matters. I'd say relationships but you pass over them faster than a bullet train."
"And he hasn't texted you."
"Would you stop assuming what he has or has not done! It's not your business, now move along, and bother someone else!"
"And you haven't gotten laid either. No wonder you're so cranky."
They both stayed quiet and stared at the young man who'd placed a book for check out on the counter, the guy's face a bit pink, biting his lips. There was no other way to show he was trying his best to hide a smile. If it were possible he'd throw the book straight in his face, see how he liked it.
Now, imagine that feeling of embarrassment, multiplied by the library being full because of Finals. The sniggers and whispers undulated, like doves cooing at each other. One single hiss from him and they quieted down.
"Regardless of whether or not he's either communicated himself with me, texted me or-," He moved his hand around, rotating it to mean he meant the rest of Becca's colorful description. "I would appreciate it if A, you did not speak so loudly so as to inform the whole bloody campus and B, you'd stop poking your bloody nose into my relationship like it's any of your day to day business. Whether or not I am happy, distressed, or cranky did not concern you before so I do not see why it must worry you now."
He turned abruptly to the people who were still muttering to themselves a tiny bit loudly and snapped. "Either go back to your work or get out of the library. This is a serious work place and I will not have any of you disrupt the peace here!"
Whatever was left of the talking completely disappeared.
The geek-tech watched as everyone immediately began texting each other to continue the gossip mill. So then now would definitely not be a good time to tell her what she'd found out about his boyfriend.
"Welp. I was going to invite you to come have a few drinks at the bar where Mr. Handsome works but seeing as you're on your period-"
"Where Desmond works?"
It was amazing how quickly he'd connected 'Mr. Handsome' to Desmond. Well, yes, if you're going to look at him like that then he'll admit it. The bloke's a bloody looker. And he's shy about it. If he were a bloody peacock, he'd probably strut it, no shame at all.
"Wanna go?"
This is a crucial moment, ladies and gentlemen. What if he went and found Desmond flirting around with women? Or worse, with other men? Or, what if it was some strip club? Or what if it was- you know what, never mind, let's just stop imagining all the bad scenarios possible. But what with his close camaraderie with Murphy's Law...
"No, thank you. He only stopped answering my texts about a week ago. He's probably busy."
"Or just not that interested anymore. I mean, he finally did you didn't he?"
The silence after that was not the size of an elephant. Maybe the moon, because even a hunchback whale paled in comparison. The hissed whispers returned full power. This time, he didn't answer with a witty remark, or a sarcastic comment that would be a Nobel prize winner. This time, he bit his lip and looked away. What if... what she said was true? He fists the phone, the picture, the sentiments behind it and the feelings in horrible turmoil. Being a college is hard. It's hard and nobody understands.
"Oh, wow, dude, I didn't mean-"
"Good bye, Rebecca."
She clammed up, stance queasy. She grabbed her pack and left, quite obviously gotten the situation from manageable to fucked up beyond reason. Wonderful, now he'd pushed even her away. To say the rest of the day his mood worsened was a horrible misstatement. At least he didn't have class today. Most of his tests were either done with or exempted, so he had a nice night with just himself.
Peachy.
"Ten minutes people." He called over the intercom, not caring the least if today he actually locked someone in. A book was placed in front of him and he raised a brow.
"Alamut? No one here reads that, unless you're one of the few who like... Good reads..."
He trailed off, brows high as he stared at the person who'd placed the book on the counter.
"I like a good read now and then."
Shaun glared. "What are you doing here?"
Desmond, the goddamn, bloody, idiotic bugger laughed. "What, can't I visit my boyfriend at his work?"
"I thought you weren't going to come." He growled under his breath, placing the book aside and glaring at him again. "Well? Where's your bloody card?"
"Err, actually, I don't have one. Was wondering if you'd borrow me yours. Anyway, why'd you think I wasn't gonna come over?"
Patience. A lot of patience was needed to treat the man in front of him and yet here he was, using his own ID card to take the book out of the library.
"You didn't answer any of my texts."
"You mean the first three I got this week, or the last five you sent me today?"
Oh God, his ears turned pink again. At least the git was whispering, unlike Becca. Possessive, who him? No, no, you must be confusing him with somebody else.
"I-it doesn't matter. Why didn't you answer them?" If he kept hissing like this people were going to confuse him with a snake.
"Well I had some pending things. I wanted to finish everything so we could be together on your vacation."
Oh. Well. Now he felt like a prat. He picked at the book's cover, though gently. He'd have to restore the poor thing when it was returned. Desmond frowned, following his gaze which had gone towards the side. The bastard had a way of knowing what he felt by just looking at his eyes.
"You thought I was ignoring you?"
He grumbled something unintelligible. Let him fight for the info. Please let him fight for it. He kept preparing to close down, announcing that five minutes were left and watching the last people file out.
"Hey."
It's not the tone that makes him stop. It's actually the kicked puppy look. You know what? The cat statement? Add puppy to that. Puppy cat or whatever you want to call it. He began organizing books, the ones returned, the ones ordered and he finally blurted out what seemed like a monologue.
"What Desmond? What do you want me to tell you? That yes, I thought you were ignoring me because you'd-" He stopped, watching the last student leave. "You'd gotten what you wanted? And that maybe I suddenly entertained the thought that you'd just leave me because of it or because you're not-" He cut himself off. He'd never seen his knuckles so white with how he was holding one of the returned books
The limey git just blinked, surprised at the outburst. With the grace of a cat (see, cat puppy) he jumped over the counter and hugged him. This was probably the most awkward hug he'd received. Well, in his opinion, because Miles seemed quite at home with his balloon of a head on Shaun's shoulder.
"Why the hell would I ignore you?"
"First, let go this is embarrassing. Second, I don't know, you tell me. "
He let go, though only a bit, thumbs hooking on the loops of the Brit's jeans. By God he was even tilting his head like a dog. A tiny, brain-damaged dog enamored to its owner.
"Alright, first, letting go is not an option. I'm ready to perform CPR if you faint from embarrassment. Second, I don't know either because I wasn't ignoring you at all. I just thought, Hey, lemme finish all this crap I still got pending to spend some time with Shaun and while I'm at it, give 'im some space so he can be his usual self and get the high scores he's always bragging about."
"Well when you put it like that you make me seem clingy."
He receives a kiss for the comment, sweet and quick on chapped lips. "You said it not me."
"Git."
"Ass."
Even though they're throwing barbs and jabs his mood improves, just as it always does. This is getting so ridiculous. Being this happy can't be normal. They keep chatting, about Shaun's week mostly until the subject changes to the vacation part.
"How do you even go on a trip? What, do you cover yourself up head to toe so you won't get hurt? The mummy look must be a real hit with the ladies"
Desmond's face looks like he's constipated. He says so and receives a light punch to his shoulder.
"Asshole. You know, there's a lot you can do at night. There's wild parties, a lot of booze-"
"Lot of good it does you with your alcohol tolerance." He interjected, chuckling as the other maturely stuck his tongue out. The night was cool, but around here that was expected, even in summer. With the library being closed by Shaun's co-worker they headed out, route unimportant.
"Chicks."
"Hey!"
"The possibility of doing you."
"Oh, very charming there, love. Real smooth."
"There's a lot of things people do at night, Shaun. Like walk around, watch the scenery. Be with someone."
He wasn't aware of when they began holding hands but this had to be the cusped of sappy corniness. Which was worse? Being aware or enjoying it?
Right here, right now, your life ends. Slips away through each passing second like sand between your fingertips. Each breath a suicide, oxygen corroding you, aging you.
But you're too busy to notice. To care.
Everything goes too fast, too quick and by the time you want to actually stop and enjoy time, well, it's too late.
Daniel Cross wishes his life ended just a little quicker, just a little sooner but he knows that's both impossible and improbable. Fucking tough luck. If he died right now, he wouldn't have to pay his bills, wouldn't have to listen to Hannah, and he certainly wouldn't be in the evidence room about to swap an important piece of evidence with a fake and stupid amulet he bought on the street.
Fuck his life, fuck his Pop, fuck his luck, fuck his karma. Fuck, fuck, fuckity, fuck. There was no such thing as God, but if there was or if there were deities up there, they were probably laughing their ass off. The Creed was right there, in a little evidence bag marked with details of the crime scene. And here was he, with gloved hands so he wouldn't leave a mark behind and incriminate himself. Hell, he'd even signed in with a different name.
Plus, he wasn't the only one that snuck into the evidence room. Other cops did it for the crack or the MJ. He was just gonna change it and leave. Yeah, right, he was just trying to excuse himself and he knew that was impossible. His guilt was the size of the moon, up until now. It probably grew a few extra inches.
The deed done, he stuffed the Creed in his pocket and hurried out, thinking that maybe no one would see him when he crashed into none other than Hannah. She yelped as the papers she carried fell to the floor and he ran away.
Way to make yourself look inconspicuous, Cross, really fucking awesome.
He clocked out, quickly and efficiently and left the building, not even hearing the goodbyes sent his way. His hand immediately reached for his cellphone and he stopped. No, no, payphone, use a payphone, no one can trace those.
He jogs up to a booth and places some quarters in, leg tapping impatiently until the other end picks up.
"The only reason you're calling is because you have the Creed, yes?"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it. What do I do with it?"
"You keep it"
He flinched, actually physically flinched and rubbed his eyes. "What! No, no, I know what it means. It means I go back to being a Keeper and fuck that. I left that behind! I'm not part of the Brotherhood anymore, Pop. This was the last thing I did for you."
"Oh come now, Danny, don't you think I know that? You just keep it with you!" The voice replied cheerfully. "Trust me, it's for your safety. Thinks have been… strange around here." Daniel groaned, passing a hand though his face and pulling at his goatee. " I know you don't want this life, but I'm afraid you'll never truly leave it. Not because I won't let you, but because there are others who need you. Do you know someone called Lucy Stillman?"
Stillman? He blinked. Wasn't that the pathologist they'd interviewed? The friend of Marino? "What about her?"
"I need you to keep a close eye on her. The Order did not know of her existence, but it seems she has a connection with a rather important person. Il Mentore to be precise."
He fumbled with the phone and almost yelled into the speaker, though he hissed to keep his voice down. "Il Mentore! You told me that was a fairy tale! A legend!"
"Maybe I did so you wouldn't become suspicious that I was him."
The blonde snorted. "Oh come off it. Sure as fuck that you aren't him." But what if he was? He'd never seen his Pop with any others like him. It was always just the two of them. Jesus, Mary and Joseph what if he really was Il Mentore?
"Danny, I can hear you think."
"Shut up." He snapped, biting his nail. Great, old habit coming back. "Alright, fine, I'll keep the fucking Creed and watch over the lady. I know who she is."
"Good! It's a relief to know I can still trust in you!"
The phone abruptly clicked and the call was done. He placed it back with a little too much force and snarled to himself, heading towards his beat up truck. What the fuck had he just agreed to?
"Shaun, you asleep?"
"No, I'm looking at the insides of my lids to find the questions of the universe. Queen knows the inside of my skull holds all the answers."
They're lying in bed after a great fuck, nice and clean and just together. Desmond has been oddly quiet and made a rather strange call, arguing with someone on the phone. Probably Lucy. What does he care? He's had fantastically great sex, they had a fantastic shower afterwards and now he's here, spooned against Desmond's chest to make it a fantastic end of a day. He does not want to talk. He wants to sleep.
"Could I stay here tonight?"
"That bad it went with Lucy?" A melodramatic sigh, but what gives. "Yes, I suppose you could, but if you want to really know, you may stay the-," He stopped. For the day, for the night? "Are you going to need me to block the windows?"
"I'll do it. Thanks."
"I better not come back and find my windows boarded up with tape. People already think I'm out of my mind."
He receives a chuckle in response. They stay silent for some time, Shaun finally starting to drift off.
"Shaun?"
He mumbles a reply. Yes, he's listening. No, he's not paying attention.
"If I was different, would you still love me?"
He mumbles again, too tired to really be listening, too exhausted to understand.
"If I was a monster, would you still love me?
But by then he's already asleep.
I'm sorry this one took so long. This pretty much concludes the happy part of the fic, and looking by the votes, it's going to go down hill from here. I've been having some personal problems, mainly getting to be part of the thousands that become homeless, but all things considered, I'm fine, I'm happy and I'm safe. You don't have to review, but I would greatly appreciate it. See you next chapter!
