I'd be awesome if you all checked out this link http:/ /brokenballoons. tumblr. com/post/ 18043345545 (just remove the spaces)
'Keep-away' was a bit of an understatement. It was another tracking game, this time it wasn't so much keep away as it was find and protect. The Stray had been roped into the game now that he wasn't so totally useless. He knew how to hide and sneak and really Desmond found himself slightly impressed. Hawk had said the Stray was their backup, more like a medic than anything who fought when needed but who's main duty was just moving around without being detected.
For this game the Stray was playing 'keep away' by hiding from the other three somewhere on the ship. The job of the other three was to find him and bring him back to the suite. The first round they were against each other and Desmond found himself walking the same same halls of the ship straining his eyes too see the trail of blue he would leave behind. Eagle Vision was allowed, but weapons were strictly prohibited, fighting only permitted during certain circumstances. This was a game of stealth, unlike the games of manhunt back in Australia which sometimes turned into whirlwinds of blows when the offense player(s) met the defense player(s).
Desmond really didn't care about finding the Stray, he was listening to his ear piece. All the hunters had one and it was on at all times. It gave everyone the advantage over the others if you used it wrong, but gave you a very good one if you used it right. Right now all he could hear was the soft sound of his own breathing and his shoes on the ground. It was late and most of the ship was quiet.
He pressed against the side of the wall as a door opened and a pair of girls a year or so younger than him came out of the room dressed like they were going to a club. The hell? Desmond frowned as they walked away from him, chatting about where they were going. That's when Desmond got it. The cruise ship was like a floating city. There were clubs here, just like there were gyms, and restaurants, and everything people could need. Everything they could need. Sort of like the Farm. It had been everything the people who'd lived there had needed.
Brow furrowed Desmond continued in the same direction as the girls, just because he was headed that way. He listened to their prattle and it occurred to Desmond how fucking out of touch he was. Listening to them made him almost angry. They were both so stupid and talked about the most asinine things like their favorite bands or about some hot guy they'd seen at the pool. They had no idea what the world was like and Desmond had to force himself to take a step back. For a blind second he wanted to give them something real to talk about, something to open their eyes to the ugly side of the world that they were so woefully unaware of.
He had to remind himself that people didn't know. They didn't understand the unending war, nor the battle that went on every day for their continued freedom. They just didn't get it and never would. That was what the Order was for. They carried the burden, to allow the world to be free. Of course these two girls wouldn't know and would have a much different and even petty outlook on their lives. So Desmond held himself back and was glad when he became distracted by a trail of blue, feint, but there.
He turned off the hallway the girls were walking down and continued down the new one. He pushed them out of his mind and jogged down the hall easily, following the path of blue. He frowned slightly when he came to a three way intersection and saw the blue continue in both directions. Vey obviously it was a trick but Desmond didn't know how to really move beyond it. Also it could be one of his ancestors, not even the Stray.
Picking a direction at random Desmond continued on his way, but the trail tapered out about a hundred feet later and cursing he back tracked and went the other way. This trail didn't fade and in fact started to grow stronger. He picked up the pace as he followed the trail, which was still feint, but slowly brightening and becoming more obvious. The trail led him up a level and then across a deck and down two decks. Several times Desmond got put off the trail by another trick like the first one but he always looped back around and got back on it. He knew he was close, because the blue was so bright it was as though the Stray had just walked here. He tried not to get too excited, because it could have just been Ezio or Hawk. But he felt that if it was them their path would have been either more or less wanderous. Either moving in a strict grid or meandering all across the ship hoping to find their prey, like Desmond had been.
The trail led outside and Desmond pushed open the door to the outer deck. Here, the trail seemed to end. What the flying fuck?
He looked around quickly and even looked over the edge but found nothing. Maybe this had been the starting point? No, that was stupid. It was too bright here. But where was he? Did he jump? No, he wasn't that stupid, and he couldn't climb very well with just one, not like he was… not like he was Malik. He let out a shaky breath. No. Not now. He wasn't Altair. He was Desmond. And Malik was dead. However his bran did not obey his wishes and he had several very Altair-like thoughts one of them being 'I am hunting an Assassin', and 'where would I hide?'
Slowly Desmond tipped his head back and looked up. Above him was a life raft and he had no doubt that the Stray was in there. Carefully he climbed onto the deck railing and then pulled himself up to the raft level. The raft was empty. But no. It couldn't be. There was another raft a few feet away. Desmond jumped into the near one, the raft swung a little from where it was held and he had to crouch low to move across the raft and under the netting over it. He slipped into the next raft and was rewarded with blue. He was on the right track.
He moved from raft to raft and had crossed almost a dozen before he heard something. He ducked down under the edge of the raft and carefully peered over the edge. Staring right back at him was his quarry who glowed blue in his second sight. Neither of them moved and the Stray just stared at him. Slowly, Desmond lifted himself up.
That was the cue and the Stray was gone like a shot, rolling right off the raft and was running. Desmond slipped off the raft and pounded after him. He was led back inside and immediately up a flight of stairs, the Stray's sneakers banging heavily on the steps while Desmond's own were light. He had to work at that, while he was good at hiding he was rather shit about moving stealthily at speed. Then they ran across the deck, Desmond following him through the long lines of hallways. Desmond chased but didn't use all his speed. He'd let the Stray tire himself out.
Desmond could feel adrenaline pricking at his senses, his heart pounding. He wouldn't even pretend he didn't love this feeling. This feeling of the hunt and the chase and knowing the goal was within sight. Maybe it should have freaked him out, that he enjoyed it so much, that he honestly liked to hunt people. But this was who he was. It was in his blood, in his very DNA and was a core piece of himself. When he'd left the Farm he'd liked to pretend this part of him didn't exist. But the fact was that it did. It did and he liked it. The Animus had brought out what was instinct and his ancestors had been refining that instinct.
The Stray ducked down a hall and that's when Desmond was aware of the sound of people and music. He frowned. There were more rules to this game than just hunt and retrieve. They weren't to be seen by regular people, or at the very least not alert them to what they were doing.
"Oh that's cheating," he said coming to a slow stop as he watched the Stray slip into a set of blacked out doors. It was one of those fucking clubs here on board, one he'd heard those two girls talking about. He had two options. Stay out here and hope there wasn't another exit and that the Stray would come out soon. Or go in there and get him.
Desmond pushed open the blacked out doors and felt a shock to his senses. Loud, booming music filled his head and the lights made his Eagle Vision pretty much useless. He dropped the Eagle Vision and rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the club and retreated to the sides where it was darker and could actually use his second sight without blinding himself. He didn't find the stray there however and he realized he'd done exactly what Desmond himself would have done; lost himself in the crowd. The best way to become invisible was to just do what everyone else did, and here, that thing was to dance.
Muttering curses to himself Desmond pushed through to the writhing crowd of dancers, he moved slowly, gently pushing people out of the way scanning faces and clothes for the one person he was looking for.
He actually almost missed him because he was dancing with some girls. Desmond thought that was funny, since the Stray didn't do girls. That was of course the reason he would have found himself there. Desmond just took on the easy stride of someone who did this all the time. It was so easy to fake something just by being actually confident about it. He slipped right into their group, "Sorry girls," he said and looped an arm around the Stray's waist. He felt the other man tense just slightly but the girls giggled and cooed, probably thinking it was cute. Though one of them did look annoyed that Desmond had shown up. "Gotcha," he said into the Stray's ear and pulled him away.
He could feel the Stray's unease. No doubt because it was him. After all Desmond was the one who'd almost snapped his arm and was the reason it was in a brace now. He kept his arm around his shoulders and started to push towards the exit. But then the Stray dug his heels in. "What?" he asked but didn't even know if he was heard over the music.
The Stray wrapped and arm around his neck and Desmond refrained from shoving him away when he was pulled close, almost like the other man meant to kiss him. Never again. But the Stray pushed forward and said into his ear, "Ezio's here too."
"How do you know that?" Desmond asked glancing around but saw nothing.
"Because I'm supposed to see more than you. You're the warrior, I'm the watcher."
"I'd thought you'd want to be found by someone else but me," Desmond said lowly, but still loud enough to be heard, his tone almost dangerous.
"Lesser of two evils," the Stray said and pulled back a bit to look him in the eye.
"Ouch," was all Desmond said and for a split second the Stray gave a lopsided grin. He realized that the other man still had his arms around his neck, and was slowly rocking to the music. "So what are you doing?"
"Hiding," was all he said and Desmond got it. The best way to hide was to be unseen. To be unseen you could do two things. You could quite literally hide, or you could become one with your surroundings and just do as everyone else did. You became invisible amid the mass. Ezio would be looking for two men not dancing. So how did you throw off such an obvious tell?
By doing the obvious.
"You did this on purpose," Desmond growled but allowed his body to start bobbing to the music.
"I figured if you wanted to catch me I could at least make one of you uncomfortable," the Stray said leaning close. "Hawk and Ezio don't seem the clubbing type."
Desmond just shook his head, eyes roving over the thrashing bodies around them even as he let his own loosen and further extended his perceptions that went beyond sight or hearing, both of which were rather useless in a club. But Desmond didn't just have all the normal human senses, for what could you call Eagle Vision but a sixth sense?
Slowly they pushed their way through the crowd, Desmond sharp eyed looking for Ezio, letting the Stray lead, miming the actions of those around them, blending with the crushing mass of humanity that cloaked them in anonymity. Then they left the writhing mass and now Desmond took point and propelled them quickly out the door.
The silence on the other side of the door was deafening compared to what they'd just been through. On one end of his ear piece he could hear the music through Ezio's end, which would do good to confuse Hawk.
"Lets go," Desmond said and started down the hallway. The Stray trailed behind him, strangely obedient. Though he guessed that in this game Hawk had told him that once caught he was caught and to not be especially obnoxious about it. Though if it came to a fight and the combatants weren't paying attention it'd be easy enough for him to just slip away. Fucking complicated rules.
They stopped at the bank of elevators when Desmond heard the lack of club music. He turned down the hall quickly and the Stray followed his line of sight. Ezio was walking towards them, not particularly quickly, but with obvious intent. Desmond looked up at floor number the elevator was on and breathed a soft, relieved, sigh when it was one away. The elevator dinged and Desmond shoved the Stray into the box. He quickly pressed the button for two decks below their suite. He'd send Ezio on a wild goose chase. Which was, after all, the entire point of keep-away.
A minute later the elevator dinged and they left the box, Desmond pressing several other floors, including the suite level, before exiting, since Ezio was following them, just to try and throw him off the trail. He didn't know how well it would work, but hey, he'd try.
The Stray followed after him quietly and Desmond was so tuned into the ear piece as well as the rest of the hallway around him he almost missed when he stopped walking. But before Desmond could say anything the Stray caught up again and he heard the soft tone of Arabic on the other man's tongue, almost a curse, but too soft to hear as they padded down the hallway. Then, almost demandingly a hand came out to grab his arm and a single word was suddenly shoved through Desmond's head.
"Altair?"
It shouldn't have set him off. It really shouldn't have. But the fact was that the Stray didn't talk about Altair, ever. Probably for good reason since the last time had gotten him beat black and blue by an infuriated Desmond. So no, he didn't mention Altair. Desmond was okay with the name being spoken, really he was. Ezio and Hawk said it often enough, always in the present tense, but he overlooked that. But this wasn't just the Stray saying Altair's name. No this was a question in the same tone that was so familiar to him it sent a crawling sensation all up his spine. It was the inflection, the way the name curled off the edge of the Stray's tongue that caught his ear and sounded not like someone who's native language was English, but another tongue. One far more exotic and rolling.
For a blind second it sounded like Malik.
That was what set Desmond off.
He whirled on the Stray and slammed him against the wall, hands fisting the material of his shirt, glaring. "What did you just say?" he spat. He swore that if the Stray was messing with him he was going to lose it.
The Stray just stared back incomprehensibly, eyes wide, a little terrified. "Desmond?" he asked carefully, wary of upsetting him. The subtle inflection that had set him off at first was gone, and all that remained was the English that was touched with the New York accent, but not enough to be obvious.
He searched the Stray's eyes for a lie, or deception, that he'd done it on purpose. But all he saw was confusion and fear about what he'd done to upset the other man so violently. Memories that weren't his smashed against his skull like waves against a cliff. His coma in the Animus had done as much brutal harm as good and while he no longer suffered from the more deadly aspects of the Bleeding Effect, or worried for his sanity that didn't mean he still didn't feel it. Still didn't have the creeping sense of another's memories pushing against his own that often diverted his thoughts. It was what let him fight with brutal clarity, muscle memory from Ezio and Altair guiding him through the foreign motions. It didn't help that there were other dreams too, other voices, ones that pushed at the back of his head in his sleep. The Animus had opened a gate, just a crack, and things were starting to squirm through. It probably didn't help with Desmond's current temperament.
There was nothing in the Stray's eyes though except confusion and slowly Desmond loosened his grip on him and let him go. Maybe he'd imagined it. Weirder things had happened. He was surprised when the other man actually dropped, as Desmond had been holding him up against the wall, an inch off the ground. The Stray was shorter than him though, and weaker, body frail in comparison to Desmond's which over the past few months had seemed to become broader, and definitely more muscular. He'd always been fit, though muscle had wasted away during his time in the Animus to be rebuilt by his ancestors and now he had the bulk and the power that he didn't have before, to the point he didn't even notice holding a man against a wall.
"Nothing," he said gruffly and pushed the Stray in front of him as they walked back to the suite. Over the ear piece he heard someone breathing quickly, like they were running. Before him he could feel the Stray wanting to speak, wanting to ask a question, but seemingly too wary and self conscious about what had made Desmond react to actually speak again.
The walk back to the suite was silent and Desmond kept a careful listen to his earpiece. There was no sound, and all he heard was the breathing of himself and the Stray. The heavy breathing had stopped quickly, but that made Desmond wary.
"Wait," he reached ahead to grab the Stray's shoulder and the other man stilled. Desmond leaned around the corner and looked down the hall. "You fucking camper!" Desmond called at Hawk who was waiting not ten feet from the door.
"All's fair in war Little Bird," Hawk called back and was making a swift b-line towards them. Desmond grumbled under his breath but knew there would be a fight. He glanced at the Stray who seemed ambivalent, of course he was. He was just the 'flag' in this game, he really had no care for the outcome.
Desmond narrowed his eyes slightly and the Stray yelped in surprise when Desmond suddenly grabbed him, Hawk was only a few feet away, and he literally threw the Stray right at Hawk. Hawk wasn't a big man, not compared to Altair or Ezio, hell even the Stray was taller than Hawk. So with now a larger mass fumbling towards him and then colliding with him there was nowhere to go but down like a sack of bricks. They both ended up on the floor in a heap, Hawk dazed from striking his head on the floor long enough for Desmond to wrench the Stray back up to his feet and drag him to the suite.
The door lock clicked as Hawk jumped to his feet and Desmond firmly shoved the Stray inside. "I win," he chirped at his ancestor and followed the Stray inside the room. Over the earpiece he heard Hawk laugh and Ezio curse.
Woops, fucked up a little there by putting a chapter where it wasn't supposed to go. Oops! Don't worry you didn't miss anything. Did lose all my notes down here though...
In summary of what I lost here, if you wanna weh at me about updating go to the review section and read the reviews by (my mini) Me, which are kinda like... fanfics for a fanfic, basically fanfiception!. It's cool and makes me happy and while isn't canon fits into FM canon much like FM fits into the AC canon. Also if you really wanna weh at me about updating... well, you can fix that and get updates faster! Know how? GO TO THE FREAKING LINK at the top. It was broken before but now it's fixed so it's all good.
