Two and a half weeks after the incident. Malik counted. He knew how many days had gone by in which Red was nothing but distant. But for some reason, he awoke that night, the 17th day later, to a sound he hadn't heard for a long time from her.

The scrapping of a quill on paper.

Sure, he knew Red was sort of an artist, he had stumbled upon her journal in the past, but ever since the incident with Asif, he never heard the scratching of her writing something down, or drawing anything. Perhaps it was a sign that she was improving.

Dispite the hour (extremely late, possibly midnight), Malik got up and shuffled to the door and stood at the door frame to the medicine room. He watched Red, too focused to notice him, writing something down in that journal of hers. Her quill twitched and swivelled with each movement from her wrist. And beside her, a candle's flame flickered dimmly, though providing enough light to see.

Malik roused her attention with a low cough.

I slammed my journal shut, regardless of the ink (I regretted that move later), and looked up at Malik with a startled face before I calmed down. "What?"

Malik seemed exhausted, it was too late at night for this. "I see you're starting to get your head again."

To that, I almost wanted to give him the most confusing confused face I could make and say 'the hell are you talking about?'. But I instead raised my eyebrows. "Pardon?"

"For one thing, you're writing again," Malik stated. "And second, you're actually holding a conversation for once. Even if it's only questions."

I looked back on what I said so far and realized he was right. I needed to think about not asking questions. "I don't know. I've just had a lot on my mind."

He nodded. "I know you have. So much has happened, and I understand that you need time to sort it out, but if you can, explain to me what is going on here."

Explain what? How I got captured? How Rahman died? How this is all my fault? Really, this is all my fault, and I don't need anymore clues for that. "Explain what?"

"Everything, Red," Malik said sternly, "I've been patient not to press you, but I'm hoping that now you can answer some of my questions. Perhaps why you went missing is a good start."

I sighed. "It's weird... You know that big guy who got away a year ago? Tibar?"

"Yes, I know him," Malik responded.

"Well he and an assassin... former assassin are working together," I said. "Tibar wanted someone fresh from Masyaf, it didn't matter who, for information. And the other... Numair, wanted another strike at me. He was so determined to get to me that he laid down the trail of dead to get me sent back here. And it worked."

"Numair," Malik pondered that. "The boy who attacked us upon your arrival?"

"Yes, that was him," I nodded. "And he's the one who kidnapped me."

Malik nodded, taking in this information. "Then how did you escape? Usually I find a lot more damage than some welts, cuts, and a stab wound to the leg- with the knife still stuck inside."

"Well... Rahman came and found me. He didn't want to leave me, but I didn't want him to get caught. It's my fault Tibar heard me, and he came down and attacked Rahman. The boy didn't stand a chance... Tibar broke his neck in his hand."

"I supppose that explains his absense," Malik sighed. "It's a shame. I didn't mind speaking with someone with his wit."

"Hey, I'm not witty enough?" I protested.

He shook his head. "Let's face it, Red. You're as sharp as down."

I narrowed my eyes. "Oh really now?"

"Yes really," Malik said, arms crossed, "now what information was Tibar after?"

"He kept questioning about the movements of assassins, new supplies they were given, contacts, but a lot about Altair. Like if he planned on going on any missions." I said. It really confused me. What was with the Altair fixation with Tibar?

Malik pondered this, "And did you answer any of them?"

"Um, no..." I gave him a quizical look. "How do I answer those? With sorcery? I'm just a doctor, I don't know about anyones' movements until they come limping to me with a throwing knife stuck in their arm and a broken foot. And Altair doesn't really say much about where he plans on going until last minute, and not even a where. It's just 'hey I'm leaving, I'll be back in a month' then when he gets back, he tells everyone about his mission in some place off by the sea."

"That seems like him," Malik nodded. "Is there anything else?"

"No, not that I know of," I said shaking my head. "But, the only way this problem is going to go away is if it's dealt with."

"Why do I get the feeling that you're about to do something rash," he grumbled.

As I got up, I furthered my point. "Numair and Tibar both want me. So why not I let them have what they want." With that, I walked past him and out of the bureau.

"Wait! Red!" Malik tried to stop me, but I broke into a run.

DUN-DUN-DUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUN!

Yup, I'm leaving you guys off here. Red's now really lost it and has decided to "turn to the darkside" so to speak. Now she's throwing herself in danger in order to end the problem, in the only way she can think of, give in. Her reasons will be explained soon.