Just in case anyone doesn't know this story used to be known as "Lovers in Arms" and has gone under a Title change obviously. But it is still the same great story we all know and love.
WARNING! WARNING! WARNING!
There are spoilers for Malik from Assassins Creed in this chapter
If you really don't like spoilers then please don't read this chapter. I'm giving you plenty of warning. So if you read this and get upset don't say I didn't warn you because I did.
Assassin's creed
Desmond lay sprawled out on his back on the king sized bed, his limbs flung out towards each of the four corners of the bed. His eyes were cast upwards, taking in the uneven, whitewash, stucco ceiling overhead. The American took in a deep breath, letting the air fill his lungs before letting it out. For the moment he was alone in the room, Altair and Ezio out in the city getting more ammunition for the group, leaving Desmond alone in the room to pack.
He enjoyed the rare moment of pure, blissful silence around him. In all honesty, the time he spent by himself nowadays was far and few in between at best. His mentors had become a constant presence at his side, they anchored him to reality on days when his mind couldn't tell the difference between reality and memories. But there were times when their constant presence was nearly suffocating, and drove him up the wall. Not that he would ever have the heart to tell them that. So, when moments like these presented themselves to him, he didn't let them slip away. He bathed in it, enjoying the only sounds in the room coming from the ceiling fan whirring, or the gentle hum of the air conditioner unit that powered the living area of the warehouse.
With a content sigh, Desmond rolled over in the bed towards his pack. He curled up on the sheets letting his mind wander aimlessly. And his mind, like it often did recently since he started reliving his ancestors memories again, started making connections between the past and the present. Currently his mind was focusing on the mission at hand. The mission, in Desmond's opinion, was going to be an interesting one to say the least. Tomorrow they would be heading to Arsuf, a coastal city set high on a hill overlooking the Mediterranean Sea. There, the team would determine the location of the Templar leader Robert de Sable, and then assassinate him.
But there was a slight problem with that plan, or at least, Desmond saw a flaw in that plan. There were two conflicting sightings reported to the Order. Obviously, one sighting had to be a decoy….right? Then the question was, which one was the decoy? If the memories Desmond had of Altair were anything to go by, the real Robert was on the battle field with King Richard. But there was no King Richard at present, and there was no battle going on around the ancient city. The decoy would have been Maria, posing as Robert, at the funeral of one of the Templars. But according to chatter from the Templars, there was no funeral planned in that city for any of the Templars Altair, Ezio, he or Kadar had picked off in recent months.
Secondly, and this surprised Desmond after he had asked Altair one late night over dinner, in this time Maria was already a contributing member of the Assassin Order. In fact she had been born into the Order, she was a loyal and notable member at that. Not to mention she already had two sons, who of course, were named Sef and Darim. Desmond never did muster up the courage to ask who Sef and Darim's father was, besides it obviously wasn't Altair. Or was it? At least he didn't think it was Altair.
Desmond's face flushed when he remember how he had passed out in in Abstergo, then experienced his first in-depth bleed. Unfortunately, it had been the one of Altair's frolics across the roofs of Acre, chasing Maria to end up at the top of the tower where they… his brain shuttered to a stop there cutting of that train of thought before it got any farther. Suddenly he pictured his Altair running across the rooftops of Acre now chasing Maria.
"Oh god," Desmond groaned, as he rolled back over on the bed. He threw an arm over his head in a vain attempt to block out the image of his ancestor going at it with Maria Thorpe on top of the tower. If Ezio knew what he was thinking about, the Italian would most likely be laughing his ass off. Desmond shook his head violent and forced his mind to get out of gutter and back on track. The moment he managed to rein in his thoughts, he became aware of how tight his chest was with unease, worry, and nervousness. The feelings were so strong he almost felt ill. His worry wasn't directed at the mission to assassinate Robert. No, they would handle that mission relatively easily. What he was worried about was what might transpire after the mission. In Altair's time, after he had assassinated Robert, he had returned to Masyaf where he face the truth of Al Mualim's betrayal of the Order. From there he had fought against his old master and defeated him before reclaiming the Apple. But a single question kept bouncing around in Desmond's head since he had learned of this mission earlier today. Would the Al Mualim of this time do the same as his counterpart in the past? Would he too make his vie for power after this mission was completed, or not?
Desmond ran a tired hand down his face before sitting up in the bed. The watch on his wrist told him his companions weren't due back from their excursion for another half an hour at the very least. He was already packed, so he might as well put himself to good use and see if any of the others needed help in getting ready for the mission. Rebecca and Shaun he knew were checking the equipment while packing the van. Kadar was most likely already done packing his bag for the trip. Malik, he was currently up in the warehouse going through the boxes. Might as well start with Shaun and Rebecca, he thought.
With his mind made up, Desmond pushed himself off the bed. He stretched his long arms high above his head while he arched his back and sighed in contentment as he felt the tension leave his body. He twisted a few times for good measure, listening with satisfaction as his back popped a couple of times further relaxing him.
Crossing the bedroom he opened and shut the door behind him as he stepped out into the dark, quiet hallway. From the room to his left, the room Shaun and Kadar shared, he could hear someone shuffling around inside. Knowing his brother as he did, he was pretty sure Kadar was listening to music on his MP3 player while dancing like a crazy person around the room as he packed. A fond smile ghosted over his lips as Desmond looked down the hallway. The computer room lights were on, as well as the big lights to the warehouse. He might as well try the computer room first; Shaun was probably working inside anyway.
Desmond padded down the hallway in his stocking feet, ignoring the cold sting of the metal floor through his socks. When he poked his head into the computer room, Desmond confirmed his suspicions as he noticed Shaun working diligently at his station like always.
Stepping fully into the doorway, Desmond rested a shoulder against the doorframe to watch his friend work without letting the Brit know he was there. Desmond let his eyes roam over Shaun's station in the corner of the room along the same wall as the computers that ran the Animus. Shaun's desk was a very simple one. It was a tall desk with just four legs and a wooden top to it. But the top itself was wide which helped provide adequate space for Shaun to spread out his mountains of paperwork. Shaun's desk was quiet literally a mountain of paperwork with a computer with three screens a printer and a paper shredder. Over the ginger's head was a cork board which was full of pictures, articles, and sticky notes hand written by Shaun. Everything was held together by thumb tacks, tape and a prayer. All the papers on the board were connected in some way, shape, form or fashion by red pieces of string. Desmond had no idea how they were connected, but it made sense to Shaun so that was all that mattered in the long run.
"Hey Shaun," Desmond announced loudly from his position in the doorway. He smirked with satisfaction when Shaun jumped violently in his seat. The now angry British male spun around in his bar stool to glare daggers at him. If looks could kill, Desmond probably would have melted on the spot.
"Desmond, for the love of god would you stop that!" Shaun snapped at him. Desmond uncrossed his arms to hold them up in the air. He put on a face of pure innocence.
"Stop what Shaun? Breathing?" Desmond teased him. Shaun narrowed his eyes at him. The assassin could almost see the steam coming out of his ears.
"You know bloody well what. Now what do you want? You didn't come all the way in here just to torment me." Shaun said as he spun back around in his stool to face his computer screens again. Seeing that as his cue, Desmond walked father in the room towards his friend's work station with his hands stuffed into the pockets of his white hoodie.
"I'm done packing and I was wondering if you or Rebecca needed help with anything." Desmond said as he came to stand beside Shaun.
Shaun paused for a brief second in his work. "Actually we have everything under control for the moment. Rebecca and I have the van packed and ready to go," Shaun answered. A comfortable silence descended around them. Shaun continued to work away at his computer while Desmond leaned against the desk beside him, soundlessly watching him research people, places, events, and plans before putting them into a new virtual library he was creating for the Assassin Order.
Now that he had a brief second alone with Shaun he felt the need to ask the Brit about how the investigation into Lucy was going. The last week or so Rebecca, Shaun, and Malik had been working behind the scenes to find some dirt on Lucy that would validate their suspicions of her. Unfortunately the last time Desmond has asked for an update of the situation, they had yet to come up with anything solid. Licking his lips, Desmond's eyes flicked over to the doorway. He blinked, letting his eyes flick over into Eagle Vision, to see if there was someone hidden behind the thin wall on either side of the doorway. Not seeing anyone, he returned his vision to normal. His eyes then looked over to the camera he knew was in the corner of the room. It had been set up there as a precaution, but he was still wary of the device. So he tilted his head so that the camera couldn't see his face, but it also didn't look suspicious if someone was watching.
"Hey Shaun?" Desmond whispered to his friend. To his credit Shaun didn't even pause in his typing. Shaun was smart, and knew where the topic of the conversation was turning to, so he pretended to work as if Desmond hadn't spoken at all. But his hummed acknowledgement showed that he had heard Desmond.
"What's the situation with Lucy?" Desmond asked in a hushed voice. His eyes unconsciously flickered back to the doorway out of paranoia. Shaun hit print on the screen and stopped typing to lean back in his chair while the printer chugged to life.
"In all honesty it's not going well Desmond." Shaun muttered back. When the ancient printer finished its job, Shaun plucked the sheet from the tray, his other hand haunting across his desk for a pair of scissors. Desmond grabbing them from the corner before handing the scissors handle first to Shaun's hunting hand. As Shaun cut out the article he continued speaking.
"Nothing has changed since the last time you asked me. Lucy's movements have been exactly the same, she hasn't made any calls to anyone or sent any strange, cryptic emails. The only thing she has been doing is keeping a very, very detailed report on your activities in the Animus, your symptoms from the bleeds, and your progress in missions here in the real world," Shaun said quietly but his face did darken angrily at the lack of results from his investigation. He finished cutting out the article, stood up, and grabbed a thumb tack and some red string. The article was quickly tacked to the board, then connected with another picture of someone Desmond didn't recognize.
"Has she done anything with that information?" Desmond asked, almost scared to know the answer to his question. He couldn't even begin to fathom what Abstergo and the Templars could do with information like that on him. Shaun sat back down on his chair to return to his work.
"Currently? No. But Lucy has stopped putting those reports on her laptop here in the warehouse. Lately she has been storing them on a personal flash drive. Rebecca hacked into her computer to plant a virus so that if someone outside of this warehouse tried to access the information on that flash drive their entire system will crash and send out a beacon to us, alerting us to the breach." Shaun said.
"So I take it nothing has happened in that regard?" Desmond ventured.
The 'not yet' remained unspoken, but they were both thinking it. Desmond sighed, not entirely sure whether to be thankful that the information hadn't been accessed yet, or if he should be worried someone may have bypassed the virus and still got to the information.
"Well I'll see you later Shaun. I'm going to go check and see if Malik or Kadar need my help." Desmond let his voice return to normal level. Shaun flapped a hand in his general direction, both of them pretending the conversation they just had never took place.
Stepping out into the hallway again, Desmond looked down both ends of the hallway trying to decide where to head to next. Malik must be in the warehouse... Rebecca was either at the van or in her room. Lucy was somewhere, but he wasn't going to go hunt for her. Kadar was still back in his room as far as he knew. Deciding to track down Malik, the young assassin turned right toward the warehouse.
"DEMSOND!" A familiar voice screamed loudly in his ear at the exact same time a pair of gloved hands slammed down on his shoulders. Desmond let out a yelp, a very manly yelp he'll have you know, as his flight or fight instincts took over and he jumped about 10 feet straight up and away from the person who scared the ever living shit out of him. Desmond spun around to glare at the blue eyed assassin who was currently doubled over, clutching his stomach, laughing so hard he was crying.
"You think that's funny Kadar?!" Desmond snarled at his older brother. Desmond's heart was still pounding against his rib cage while his lungs worked overtime to greedily suck in air to calm himself from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Kadar was now having trouble staying upright. He was hanging onto the wall for all he was worth. Seeing Desmond's surprised face was priceless.
"No, it wasn't funny. It was freaking hilarious, you should have seen your face!" Kadar wiped tears from his eyes; he looked up at Desmond then proceeded to fall into another fit of giggles at the unamused look on his half-brother's face.
"Oh, you want to see hilarious, I'll show you…" Desmond smirked wickedly at him, and then lunged at the black haired assassin. Kadar had only half a second to glance up and squeak before Desmond crashed into him. The blow left Kadar breathless as Desmond's weight made him unbalanced, causing them both to fall in a heap to the floor. Desmond took advantage of his brother's moment of distraction to sit on Kadar's chest, using his legs to pin Kadar's, then use his own hands to pin Kadar's arms away from his body.
"HA. Try laughing now brother." Desmond taunted down at Kadar. Kadar frowned.
"Alright… you want to play rough? Fine, I'll play rough little brother," Kadar smirked and bucked upwards dislodging his brother. Desmond landed hard on the floor next to Kadar as the Kadar scrambled to his hands and knees. Desmond didn't stay down long; he once again launched himself at Kadar, but the Kadar was ready for him this time. Kadar met him head on. They grappled on the floor, rolling over and over each other, trying to gain the advantage over the other. But being brothers, and having trained with each other from the same teachers, they knew each other's move sets, thoughts, and weaknesses, making it hard for one to gain the upper hand in their impromptu play fight.
Assassins creed
Malik let out a sigh as he shut the laptop he had been working on for the past couple of hours. He set the device down on the box beside him as he stood to stretch the kinks out of his body. With a contented sigh he looked out at the sea of boxes that occupied the shelves of the warehouse. The Rafiq ran a tired hand down his face, scratching the stubble along his chin. Malik had been using the better part of the afternoon trying to find some information that would help the team with the Lucy situation. He had tried everything in the book, he had even called in several favors and pulled all the strings he could, to try and find a validation to their thoughts of her being a traitor to the Assassin order. But there was nothing. Literally nothing about Lucy Stillman anywhere. She had no records. It was almost like she didn't exist and that itself sent up a major red flag. The Assassin Order had files on everyone, everyone but her. And without any evidence to back them up, they couldn't have her removed from the team nor put her on trial. But the assassin in him said she was a danger to them all, and in situations like this he trusted his assassin instinct above all else.
He was brought out of his thoughts by a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his eyes in time to see Kadar sail overhead, jumping between two beams, with a broad smile on his face. Desmond followed not a second after his half-brother with a bright smile on his face as well. The older Al-syaf shook his head with a fond smile, his two younger brothers were at it again. They always enjoyed teasing, chasing, or just flat out tormenting each other mercilessly. Everything eventually lead to fights, bouts of wrestling, or tickle fights which Malik would end up having to break up before it got too rough.
"Get back here Kadar! I'm not done with you yet!" He heard Desmond yell. Malik continued to track them across the ceiling. Desmond put on a burst of speed, allowing him to close the distance between himself and Kadar, tackling him again, sending them both down. Desmond clambered onto his brother, once again pinning him down to the rafter.
"Ha! Pinned you again Kadar." Desmond proclaimed mockingly. Malik walked across the warehouse and came to stand beneath his younger brothers. Resting his fist on his hip, he looked up at the two of them.
"No fair Desmond!" Kadar whined good naturedly. Desmond laughed at him, but didn't get off Kadar's chest. Kadar arced his back trying to buck Desmond off, however the other had learned from the first time and didn't move an inch. Seeing as he couldn't dislodge his brother Kadar flopped back down in defeat with a groan.
"Fine, I give up. I surrender," Kadar huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. Desmond cheered throwing his hands into the air while Kadar pouted childishly underneath him. Malik cleared his throat, gaining the attention of the two up in the rafters.
"What are you two novices doing?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at them. Kadar tilted his head back, looking upside down at his brother.
"Hello Malik. We're just playing around." Kadar smiled sheepishly at him. Malik rolled his eyes.
"I can see that. Are you both done packing?" Malik asked.
"Yes," They both replied simultaneously.
"Well if you two have so much energy to throw around, why don't you help me figure out what's in these boxes." Malik said waving his hand around to indicate the boxes stacked neatly in the room around them. Kadar and Desmond looked at each other, a silent conversation passing between them, before they shrugged. They looked back at Malik and nodded.
"So where do we start?" Desmond asked as he jumped down onto one of the racks. There were several dozen racks full of boxes. Malik, being the Rafiq in charge of this Bureau, was tasked with the unfortunate duty of making a list of everything in the warehouse. He had been complaining about having to do it for the last few days. You would figure that if the Assassin Order had been using the place for the last 6 months they would already have a catalog of all the stuff, but no… so poor Malik had to do it all himself. "Start on the top of the rack, closest to the living area. That's where I left off," Malik called as he walked back over to his laptop. He was already pulling up the spread sheet he had been working on the last few days. Desmond and Kadar made their way over to the rack, only to stare at the boxes stacked neatly on top.
"Which one brother?" Kadar called over to Desmond.
"It doesn't matter. I haven't started on the top. So pick anyone and start there," came their answer.
That's how they ended up spent the next twenty minutes, quietly yet mechanically working their way through the boxes on the rack. They had a pretty good system going; Desmond would slice the tape holding the boxes shut with his hidden blade, and Kadar would read off the label with the number and location of the box on the rack while Desmond would call out the content of the box. Malik would then record all the information down into the computer before telling them to move on. They were on their final box on the top wrack when they came across a box with some odd contents.
"What the heck…" Desmond muttered looking inside the box. Reaching in Desmond pulled out one of the contents. When he held it up to the light he was finally able to recognize what the heck was in the box… the box contained wig mounts, or mannequin heads, if that's what you called them.
Creepy…. he thought. Slowly he tilted it back and forth in the light to get a better view of it. The head itself was made of a hard white plastic. It was the shape of a full head with a slender neck stopping just at the top of the shoulders. The face of the head was what sent chills up Desmond's spine. It was completely blank, there was no features or curves to the face what so ever. Then there was the wig that sat atop of it. The wig itself was black and short the hair coming just short around where a person's ears would be.
Desmond suddenly felt what could only be described as a jolt of electricity run through his body. At the same time his ears picked what he could have sworn was the sound of the Animus chirping. Everything around him seemed to freeze in place and all sound seemed to die away to muted gibberish as his eyes slowly slid back to the mannequin head in his hands. But what he saw in his hands made his blood run cold and made his breath catch in his throat.
There, in his hands wasn't the mannequin head, but the decapitated head of a very familiar face. The head's eyes were open, staring straight into his gold ones, straight into his soul, making his heart clench. Blood dripped mockingly from his dearest friend's neck to hit the desert ground to join the others in the steadily growing dark puddle which the sand drank up greedily. Malik… a voice, not his voice but Altair's voice, breathed in complete and utter shock and disbelief.
Around him the warehouse crumbled away like pieces of shattered glass to be replaced with the dry, hot, open area of the courtyard behind Masyaf Castle. Abbas stood behind several of his men. One stood proudly in front of Desmond, arm out presenting him with Malik's head. Maria stood next to him, her beautiful face turning a ghastly pale green color at the sight. Abbas commanded something in the background, to which his minion dropped the head he was holding by the hair. Desmond felt his shaking legs give underneath him, apparently no longer willing to support his weight. His stomach rolled as he watched Malik's head bounce once on the dirt ground before rolling around once, then finally coming to rest facing the young assassin with unseeing eyes. Desmond found his entire body shaking as a great chill overcame his body and yet he could not compel himself to look away.
"Ah… ah…. Ma-Malik." Desmond gasped out. His eyes still locked on the decapitated head of his precious friend, but his stomach lurched, bringing up everything he had eaten in the last day, forcing him to turn away from the bloody grotesque sight to heave the contents of his stomach to the ground beside him. Faintly he heard Abbas shouting orders, feet kicking up dust around him and four fingered hands grabbed hold of him, holding him in place. He heard Maria struggling as they too grabbed her, but none of that mattered to him, the only thing that he was focused on was his friend's head…
Malik paused in his work briefly when he thought he heard his name being called. He waited half a second, listening, to see if whoever called him would call again. When he didn't hear his name repeated he continued on what he was doing as Kadar read out the information. But when he heard the sound of someone retching, his head snapped up so hard his neck ached. High above, Desmond was on his hands and knees by a box throwing up. Big brother instincts kicked in immediately as he jumped to his feet, sending the computer crashing to the ground.
"DESMOND!" He yelled, already fearing the worst. Kadar, always tuned into Desmond's well-being, was one step ahead of him, having lept over the box to crouch at his half-brother's side the moment he started throwing up, holding his hood back while rubbing circles along Desmond's trembling back. Malik ran to the rack, already hearing Kadar whispering comforting words into the shell of Desmond's ear to calm him.
"Kadar! What is going on? What happened?" Malik demanded.
"I don't know! He just opened the box and went silent for a second before he collapsed and started throwing up!" Kadar reported, panic coloring his voice. The one armed Rafiq looked up at Desmond from his position on the floor. Desmond continued to dry heave; his eyes a pale gold color and his pupils dilated from huge black pits to thin pinpricks. Those were the symptoms Malik had committed to memory the second he learned about them. Desmond was Bleeding.
"Kadar!" Malik called up. His younger brother's eyes met his.
"What else is up there? Something had to have triggered the Bleed!" Malik called up. Kadar looked down at his ailing brother and followed his line of sight to the mannequin head on the ground.
"It's a mannequin head!" Kadar called back down.
"Get rid of it! I'm coming up!" Malik ordered, remembering what Altair had taught him about dealing with Desmond when he was like this. The Bleeds were always caused by something, to make the Bleeds go by quicker you had to either remove the trigger or get Desmond away from the trigger. Kadar nodded with a hard scowl set on his face. He stood and in two powerful strides the young assassin stood before the head. It sat there innocently on the rack, but he knew otherwise. Kadar pulled his foot back then kicked the offending head clean across the warehouse with as much strength as he could muster. Somewhere off in the distance he faintly heard it clang to the ground but he didn't care as long as it was gone and not causing his brother any more mental trauma. Not wasting another second, Kadar returned to his brother's side, once again rubbing his back comfortingly. Something pattered against the hard metal surface of the rack. To Kadar's shock, Desmond suddenly broke down into great heaving sobs.
"(Malik… No Malik… brother no… please… do not let this be true god…)" Kadar heard Desmond choke out in Arabic. Kadar sucked in a breath. Not only was Desmond Bleeding, but he was speaking in Arabic, a dead giveaway to who they were dealing with. They were about to be facing Altair.
Malik finally made it up to the top of the rack with them. He carefully avoided Desmond's mess to press against his other side, rubbing circles on the male's back just as his younger brother had. Desmond turned his head toward Kadar.
"(You killed him… why? He had done nothing wrong…. NOTHING!)" Desmond all of the sudden lashed out, hidden blade ejecting as he went for Kadar. Caught off guard by the sudden attack Kadar didn't move fast enough to avoid the strike. The blade sliced through his side, the well-honed blade drawing blood instantly. Crying out in not only pain but surprise as well, Kadar pressed a hand to the wound as pain danced across his body. Malik shot up to attempt to restrain Desmond, only to have the American avoid the move and turn on him. Desmond screamed as he jumped at Malik, knocking the older to the top of the rack, taking the breath from his lungs. With his instincts screaming at him to move, Malik rolled to the left just as Desmond's hidden blade came down, nicking his cheek.
"Malik!" Kadar cried, gaining his feet.
"I'm fine!" Malik snapped back as his kicked Desmond away. Desmond stumbled back clutching his stomach, but his eyes remained focused on Malik. Malik forced himself to his feet, meeting Desmond's eyes. What he saw broke his heart. His youngest brother's expression was that of absolute heartbroken sorrow, tears streaming down his face, but a deep set hatred and rage boiled under those unfocused golden eyes. His face was pure unrestrained rage and awash with tears. His teeth were gnashed, eyes wild, body taunt ready to spring at anyone, ready to tear them to pieces with his hidden blade. Malik never wanted to see this face on his youngest brother ever again.
Malik flicked his gaze over Desmond's shoulder to where Kadar was sneaking up behind Desmond. Kadar wrapped his arms around Desmond in an attempt to pin the male's arms to his side and restrain him just as Malik had. Desmond thrashed, snarling like a wild animal.
"(MURDERS! TRAITORS! YOU KILLED AN INNOCENT MAN!)" Desmond screeched. Throwing his weight backwards, Desmond threw off Kadar's balance, causing him to stumble backwards. Right over the edge of the rack.
"NO!" Malik rushed forward in an attempt to catch them before they fell through the open air but he was just a second too slow. Kadar landed back first onto the hard concrete with a pained cry. Desmond landed on his side hard with a grunt; they both lay dazed for a second. Jumping off the rack, Malik landed in a crouch next to Desmond. Desmond growled at him as he scrambled to get him feet beneath him. He wasn't out of the game yet. Desmond didn't waist a second as he launched another series of furious attacks at Malik. Malik did his best to keep up and dodge the attacks. Desmond, to his credit was fast. But a Desmond, bleeding Altair, an ancient assassin from centuries before their time, was twice as fast as Malik was, faster even than their Altair if that was possible. Malik found himself barely able to keep himself from being severely injured by the blade as it danced through the air, red blood from Kadar glittering on its silver blade.
Malik kicked high, hoping to hit Desmond hard in the head, rendering him unconscious, but Desmond was quick and brought his arm up, bracer absorbing most of the blow. Bad move idiot! Malik's brain screamed at him again to move. Desmond pressed forward into Malik's undefended left side, which was left open from the kick, bringing both hands up to slap Malik's ears hard making them ring, disorienting him, causing him to stumbled. It seemed Desmond wasn't done with him yet, as Malik reeled, Desmond grabbed his head, kneeing him hard once in the face. His nose gave on Desmond unforgiving knee and instantly the familiar tang of copper filled his mouth. Before his brain could catch up and stop reeling from the first blow Desmond slammed his knee into Malik's face a second time, sending the older onto his back in pain. Dazed, and in pain, ingrained instincts from years of training kept telling him to fight back, fight back, but those instincts were drowned out by flood of dizziness that washed over him and the deafening sound of his heart beat pounding in his ears. He just laid there, arms refusing to work, his face hurt and hot.
Kadar suddenly forced himself between Desmond and Malik, completely ignoring everything that told him to stay back. His arms were spread protectively, shielding his older brother from any more danger, though he knew it would do little good.
"(Desmond! Please listen to me! You're not Altair! You're not in the 1200's anymore! Snap out of it!)" Kadar pleaded in Arabic hoping the change in language would snap his poor brother out of this state of mind he was stuck in. No dice. Desmond only snarled back at him, angry tears pooling in his eyes overflowing to slide down his face in the tracks of those that fell before.
"(Haven't you taken enough from me already? You've taken my son! Now you have not only taken the life of my friend, but dishonored him and desecrated his remains by taking his head!)" Desmond screamed, once again throwing himself toward Kadar at an alarming speed, hidden blade glistening now with both Kadar and Malik's blood. Kadar threw himself to the right to avoid the strike but the blade still nicked his throat. As he felt warm blood run down his throat to soak the collar of his shirt Kadar realized that Desmond could kill him if he wasn't careful, for that last move could have slit his throat. Needing to create space between him and Desmond, Kadar punched Desmond hard in the stomach then followed it up by slamming his shoulder into the other's chest forcing him back and away. Desmond fell backwards onto his ass, the American's hands felt around on the concrete around him searching for something else to defend himself with as Kadar came closer. Before the blue eyed assassin could stop Desmond, the other threw something at him, he didn't even have time to figure out what it was the throw was that fast. He only registered something hitting him so hard in the head he saw stars.
Malik tried shouting out a warning to his reeling brother, but Kadar couldn't hear him over the ringing in his ears. Desmond came at him again, but this time with a metal bar in his hands. He slammed the bar hard into the back of Kadar's head, effectively knocking his half-brother unconscious. Kadar slid to the ground but was saved by Malik who had managed to get close enough to catch him. Cradling his brother to his chest, Malik remembered being in a similar situation like this before. Him holding Kadar, glaring down an enemy who aimed to do them harm. Anger overcame him
"Alright, that is it Desmond. If I can't make you wake up without hurting you, then I'm going to have to resort to other measures," Malik snarled. Gently he lowered Kadar to the ground. He forced his aching body to move, slowly getting to his feet, placing himself between Desmond and Kadar, much like Kadar had done not a few seconds before. The two glared each other down. With a cry, Malik made the first move attacked Desmond head on. Desmond, to his credit, didn't back down. He only braced himself, wielding the metal pole like it was a sword. They clashed, trading blow after blow, but even though he tried to stay true to his word, Malik still found his blows were softened. Desmond, on the other hand, only strengthened his blows and unfortunately was landing more hits than Malik was. Holy shit Desmond hits hard Malik thought for half a second before focusing back on the fight.
Malik finally managed to knock the piece of metal from Desmond's hands but that provided a perfect opening for Desmond to slip around him and kick him hard in the back of the legs, sending Malik to the ground again. Not a second later Desmond was on top of him, pinning him to the ground, arm already pulled back for a punch. Malik raised his arm in a feeble attempt to protect his face, but with only one arm there were only so many of the blows he could block. Desmond brought on an onslaught of vicious attacks. The blows continued to rain down on him, one after the other. Each of them more jarring and painful than the last. He felt consciousness slowly starting to slip from him as the blows went on, Desmond's angry face being edged out by a creeping darkness at the fringes of his vision that threatened to pull him under. Both Desmond and Malik were too preoccupied to hear the rumble of motorcycles pulling into the warehouse or the sounds of tires screeching, or the shout of confused and panic filled voices. But they both did take notice when Desmond was suddenly and violently ripped off Malik's body.
Malik wasn't quite sure how long he lay on the hard floor trying to force air back into his laboring lungs before he became aware of someone else kneeled beside him. He felt a hand slide under his neck, slowly raising him into a sitting position, allowing him to rest back against a leg for support. Malik blinked through the blood in his eye, coming from a cut on his forehead, to see who was holding him. Altair's worried face floated into his slowly returning vision. Malik let his eyes travel past his friend to where Ezio was holding a struggling Desmond at bay by twisting the younger's arms behind his back, electing a cry of pain from the young assassin. Desmond screamed and thrashed, choking back sobs as tears continued to slide down his face. Seeing Desmond in such a state tore Malik's heart to pieces.
"What in the hell happened Malik?" Altair demanded, but his tone was gentle. Malik sat up, although Altair still kept a steadying hand on his shoulder. The smallest of movements caused pain to shoot through his body, as well as making his vision go blurry around the edges again. Tasting copper in his mouth, Malik spat blood on the concrete floor. Running his tongue over his now chapped and split lip told him his lips were a mess now and bleeding. His nose was also slowly oozing blood down his upper lip, chin and neck, effectively soaking his cloths. Malik used his sleeve to wipe the blood that ran down from his broken nose. He was probably only smearing it across his face, which probably made him look even worse than he did before.
"To tell you the truth I'm still trying to figure that out myself." Malik grumbled as he rubbed what was sure to be a beautiful bruise on the side of his jaw in the morning.
"This is by far the worst bleed I've seen Desmond go through. What triggered it?" Ezio asked, grunting as Desmond threw his weight around again in a vain attempt to free himself from his captor.
"We were helping Malik figure out what was in the boxes when Desmond picked up a mannequin head and suddenly went crazy," Kadar said suddenly making Malik jump slightly. Malik twisted to look over at his younger brother. With the danger gone, dark eyes raked over his brother's figure, taking stock of his injuries. Other than the cut on his side, a few minor cuts and bruises, and what was sure to be a nice goose egg on the side and back of his head, he looked fine. Kadar sat up rubbing his head, thin fingers running through his unruly mop of black hair, the gloved hand came away wet with a little blood from the wound he received from Desmond.
"Did he say anything?" Altair asked, coming over to Kadar, already going into mother hen mode. He approached with a white cloth in his hand, which he pressed to the wound in Kadar side. The younger yelped in pain but Altair only shushed him gently while he kept pressure on the wound to staunch the flow of blood.
"He said something about Malik and killing an innocent man…" Kadar said. Beside him Altair's face became hard and his lips formed a thin line. Ezio paled as well, he sent a sympathetic look to the struggling man in his arms.
"What does that mean Altair? What was he reliving?" Kadar asked innocently. Altair kept his mouth firmly shut, sharing a knowing look with Ezio who shook his head and jerked his head toward the door; wanting to get Malik and Kadar out of Desmond's sight before he came out of the Bleed. They could only imagine the reaction Desmond would have seeing the damage he had caused his two brothers.
"Altair what are you hiding?" Malik snapped.
Altair sat back on his heels, his hands resting on his legs. He had a thoughtful expression on his face like he was weighing the pros and con of telling them the full story or not. Malik growled, almost ready to hit his childhood friend should he choose not to answer their questions. Finally Altair sighed.
"Malik's death took a great toll on Altair. Desmond didn't take it well either, apparently he still doesn't." Altair said vaguely his eyes slowly moving over to Desmond who was still fighting.
"Stop beating around the bush novice. Spit it out," Malik demanded trying to dismiss the chill of fear that was started keeping up on him as the pieces started clicking together for him. The head… Screaming about Malik being dead and them desecrating his remains. But his mind still refused to believe it. He needed to hear the words from Altair before he would believe them.
"When Altair and Maria left to confront Abbas in Masyaf, Abbas sent Swami, a personal spy of his, to assassinate and behead Malik. They put Malik's head in a sack and showed it to Altair and Maria. The emotional toll was…. harsh." Altair finally said, his voice thick with unspoken emotions. Kadar and Malik stared at him in shock. Kadar himself looked green around the gill as if he was going to be sick at the mere thought.
"Hey guys!" Ezio called out. Three heads snapped around to look at him. To their unease Desmond had gone limp in his arms. Altair was instantly on his feet crossing the short distance between them. Altair knew from experience that Desmond passing out from a Bleed could be either a good thing or a bad thing. Desmond could drop off into unconsciousness when a memory was finally worn out and wake up back to his normal self, while on the other hand he could just be moving onto another memory. The tanned assassin sent a silent prayer up to whatever gods existed that Desmond would come back to himself. He didn't want Desmond to suffer anymore.
Assassins Creed
Desmond slowly came back to himself. Roughly shaking his head, he tried to clear still his muddled mind. A groan slipped past his lips when feeling came back to his body. He became distinctively aware of how his body ached and his arms felt like they were on fire. Forcing his eyes open, Desmond blinked against the harsh light of the warehouse. Altair was in front of him trying to get gain his attention. Someone else was talking behind him as well. Twisting Desmond strained to look over his shoulder. Strange… he saw Ezio standing behind him, holding him with his arms, twisting them painfully behind his back to the point that if he were to moved, he would most likely break a bone. The Italian studied him for a moment, really looking at him, straight in the eye, before slowly releasing Desmond from his vice like grip. The instant the other released his arms pin and needles shot through them making Desmond twitch at the feeling.
Desmond turned his head back to Altair, a question already forming on his lips, but then his eyes caught sight of something red out of the corner of his eye. Slowly he looked down at his arm which his hidden blade was attached to. What he saw make his breath catch, his blade and his sleeve were coated in sticky, warm blood.
He had hurt someone! All other thoughts in his mind ground to a halt. Frantically he looked at Altair, his eyes scanning his friend searching for a wound or cut. But there was no injury to be found on Altair. His eyes next sought out Ezio, who was standing slightly away from them his arms folded across his chest, but his eyes stayed directly on Desmond. When he caught Desmond looking at him the hard look softened to a sympathetic one. He wasn't wounded either of them then who…
"Desmond look at me. Look only at me okay. Everything is fine. Everyone is fine. Just breathe, ok?" Altair said slowly. His words made Desmond realize how his breaths were coming out in short, panicked gasps. There was movement over Altair's shoulder, drawing Desmond's attention. There, behind Altair stood Malik, who was slowly helping Kadar to his feet. Desmond eyes latched onto them and the sight before him made fear grip his already fluttering heart. Malik had long cuts in not only his dark blue trench coat but also his assassin hoodie beneath. He was sporting a busted nose which oozed blood down his face; some was smeared across his face from where he obviously attempted to wipe it away. There was one nasty cut across his forehead which leaked blood down his face and into his eye before mingling with the blood from his nose. Malik was also sporting several developing bruises along his jaw line, face, and eyes. Kadar had a deep gash in his side which he was attempting to hide by covering it with the rag Altair had given him, but the once white rag was already stained red. There was a thin cut on his neck which had stopped bleeding, but the dried blood was still there. Blood was also rolling down his face from somewhere in his hairline.
"Malik… Kadar…" Desmond whispered. Both their eyes slowly moved to meet his over Altair's shoulder. Altair growled out a curse under his breath as he frantically tried to draw Desmond's attention back to him. Desmond ignored him, letting his eyes wander over his adopted brothers, then back to the hidden blade on his arm and his jeans. On his knee there was a bright patch of red. He brain worked overtime clicking the pieces into place.
The blood on his jeans and hands, the way Ezio and Altair were so tense, the reason his body ached so much, and the injuries on both Malik and Kadar. He had attacked his brothers during his Bleed. His mind went blank… that single sentence echoing around in his head. Desmond stumbled backwards in realization. He had hurt them. He was the reason they were hurt. His nightmares were coming true, he was hurting the people he loved the most, the two most important people in his very fragile, unstable, world. The two who had taken him in, sheltered him, fed him, called him their brother, and nursed him back to health twice. And he had hurt them.
"No…oh god...I…" Desmond whispered taking another step back. Kadar started at him but there was something in his eyes. Something in those blue eyes that made something snap inside Desmond.
There. Was. Fear. In. His. Eyes.
Kadar was scared of him. Altair tried to take a step closer, his four fingered hand reaching out to hold Desmond, to comfort him. But there was no reason Altair should comfort him now. He had hurt his family! Altair's only remaining family, the only ones who didn't hold a grudge against him for his past transgressions.
Kadar watched Desmond's eyes lock onto them and the blood slowly drain from his face when he took in their numerous injuries. Now he understood why Altair was so adamant about getting them both out of sight before Desmond came around. Seeing them both in the state they were in as well as figuring out he had caused this was too much for Desmond. Kadar had to do something. But what? How do you console someone who just came out of something they can't control, to realize they had hurt their surrogate family, causing them unnecessary pain? Kadar was scared, he was scared for Desmond. He didn't want his brother to blame himself. The group had talked about the possibility of Desmond having a Bleed that they couldn't control, or one of them wasn't there to help Desmond deal with it. None of them would ever blame Desmond for anything that would happen. Kadar took a step away from Malik towards the rapidly retreating Desmond to try and calm him down.
"Desmond don't worry we're fin- ARGH!" Kadar tried say, but pain shot through his body like lightning bringing him to his knees. Malik was instantly at his side again. But that moment of weakness, that moment of pain was the straw that broke the camel's back for Desmond. With one last heartbroken look at them, Desmond spun and took off into the warehouse, faster than anyone had seen him move before. Altair let off a string of Arabic curses and Ezio let off a few of his own in Italian. Ezio instantly took off after their fleeing friend, already calling for him to stop. Within seconds they were gone.
"Malik take care of Kadar while we go get Desmond." Altair ordered over his shoulder as he too took off into the warehouse after his counterparts. Malik knelt down next to Kadar, pulling Kadar's arm around his neck then wrapping his own arm around Kadar's waist. With a grunt he pulled his brother up to his feet. Kadar winced again against the pain but pushed Malik away roughly.
"Don't worry about me! Go help them look for Desmond!" Kadar yelled, feeling tears starting to well up in his eyes. He knew Desmond was suffering from guilt and self-loathing now.
"I can't just leave you like this. You need to get to Shaun and Rebecca!" Malik snapped back. Kadar shook his head and stood on his own two feet, though shakily.
"You can and will. I can walk on my own. Both you and I know that the only person who can get through to Desmond at a time like this is you! You need to find him, you need to talk to him. Let him know that we aren't mad at him, nor do we blame him." Kadar yelled.
"But…" Malik said, but Kadar could see it in his eyes. He was torn between staying and dashing out after their friends to search for Desmond.
"Just go Malik, I'll be fine. I promise. Nothing will happen." Kadar said more gently this time. Malik looked between him and where Altair and the others disappeared to.
"Alright, but get to Shaun, quickly." Malik ordered before turning and running off. Kadar sighed the moment his older brother was out of sight. He understood Malik's hesitation to leave him alone. Malik was always afraid something would happen to Kadar while he was gone. In was an understandable fear, but Kadar was a full-fledged assassin now, Malik couldn't always be there with him. It was time to let go and move on.
Well, Kadar needed to get up to Shaun before he passed out from blood loss or something stupid like that. Pressing a hand tightly against the wound on his side he made the long, painstaking, trek up the stairs to the main area. When he got to the computer room his vision was starting to go fuzzy and the world was starting to tilt in a sickening way around him. He guessed that's what happens when adrenalin high wears off, and the pain sets in. Squinting through the slowly tilting and blurry world around him he could just make out Shaun working at his desk.
"Shaun…" Kadar called out, his voice sounding rough and tired even to himself. Shaun turned his toward him slightly but his eyes remained focused on the screen before him. Kadar felt his legs go weak on him causing him to lean against the doorpost so he would stay upright.
"Yes, Kadar, what do you need?" Shaun responded distractedly.
"I need you to stitch me up Shaun. Sorry..." Kadar replied. That caught Shaun's attention. He turned to look at Kadar fully this time. Shaun's eyes went wide as plates behind his square rimmed glasses when he took in the bloody, injured assassin before him.
"What the hell?! REBECCA! LUCY! GET IN HERE NOW!" Shaun shouted at the top of his lungs, making Kadar flinch at the sheer volume of it. The Brit scrambled out of his seat, coming to Kadar's side when the young assassin's leg finally decided to stop holding him upright. Shaun pulled Kadar's arm around his shoulder, and placed a steadying hand on his waist, allowing Kadar to lean his weight against Shaun before slowly guiding him to a chair. When Shaun finally got his friend settled into the chair, Shaun realized how pale and shaky Kadar was. Shaun spun on his heels when he heard the sound of feet running towards the computer room. Rebecca slid across the floor in her socks, grinding to a hard stop before the door; Lucy was running up behind her. When both girls looked into the room to see the state of Kadar, Rebecca gasped, putting a hand over her mouth while Lucy turned pale.
"W-what happened?" Lucy stuttered out.
"Desmond h-had a bad bleed. He was channeling A-Altair. He attacked us. When he came to h-he saw us and took off. You need to see if they found him." Kadar managed to get out pasted his pained breathing.
"Rebecca, hop on the com channel and see if they need help or if you can pin point Desmond's position with the GPS in his earpiece. Lucy, get me the med kit and help me patch up Kadar." Shaun ordered, instantly taking charge of the situation. Rebecca nodded, sliding past Shaun and into her seat at her large station. In the blink of an eye she had her headset on and was speaking rapidly into it. Lucy dove into the drawers of Malik's desk, searching for the med kit.
"Stay awake for me Kadar. Do you understand? Don't fall asleep on me." Shaun ordered.
"Okay," Kadar said, resting his head back on the chair to stare at the ceiling. Gently, Shaun pulled Kadar's gloved hand from his side to gingerly remove the bloody rag from the wound. Eyebrows crashed together on his forehead at the sight of the wound. Shaun twisted around to reach under his desk where he kept a flat of water. Uncapping one, he poured some of the water over Kadar's wound to clear the area so he could get a better look at the wound.
Assassins creed
Malik's head snapped around as he scanned the streets, sidewalks and alleyways of the poor district. His gaze was desperately trying to catch a flash of a white hoodie or the familiar face of his youngest brother. Desmond had taken off at a speed that, under different circumstances, Malik would have been proud of. But now he was cursing that speed. The fleeing assassin had used his speed and skill to not only outrun his mentors but easily break the line of sight to silently slip away into the crowds milling about in the cool afternoon. They had split up not long ago to cover more ground in hopes that one of them would run into Desmond before the Templars, who were still out there patrolling the city, found him instead. That thought made Malik's heart twist in fear. He didn't want to lose Desmond to those monsters, not again.
However, there was a problem, they had absolutely no clue where Desmond had gone to. They had tried to use Rebecca's tracking skills on Desmond's earpiece to locate him. But no such luck, Desmond must have left it behind at the Bureau. So where could he have gone? Malik slowed his break neck pace down, to a jog, then a walk, then stopped all together. He stopped near the bridge that went over the only river going through Jerusalem. If he wanted to find Desmond he needed to calm down and think with a clear mind.
He knew Desmond better than anyone, except maybe Kadar, so he just needed to think like Desmond would. Running a callused hand down his face, he scratched the stubble on his chin in an attempt to focus. Bracing his hand against the railing that overlooked the river he began to think. Desmond wasn't stupid... distraught as he was, he knew the dangers of being out without backup, especially with the Templars on a rise. So... he wouldn't have gone far from the bureau. He wouldn't have left the district. Desmond knew they were chasing him, therefore after he had broken line of sight he would have gone someplace to hide till he was safe. Assassins being assassins loved high places to get not only vantage points, but as a means of escape and solitude. However Desmond knew that would be the first place Altair or maybe Ezio would look... so down?
Looking back at that moment Malik really couldn't tell what made him look along the banks of the small river. But as his eyes traveled along the river bank below him, his eyes rested on a white hooded figure crouched under the bridge just at the river's edge. Malik stood there, leaning against the railing, staring, dumbfounded that Desmond was there of all places. Desmond was staring at his hands, his face still that pasty white color. Even from this far distance Malik could tell Desmond's hands were still covered in his and Kadar's blood. Though it had dried to his hands by now.
Desmond was looking down at his hands, really looking at them this time, his eyes going from his hand to his sleeve, to his busted knuckles, then his knee. Malik saw his transfixed gaze as he turned his hands over and over, he looked disgusted at how the red blood clung and dried to his hands, unwilling to come off. Revulsion suddenly appeared in Desmond's face. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Desmond started to try and wipe the brown flaking blood from his hands. Only a little gave way and he wiped his hand again. He apparently saw his pale skin beneath the brown blood and his suddenly starting rubbing frantically at his hands with the water of the river. Again and again he put them in the river to clean them. Then Desmond's eyes trained on his hidden blade, which was covered in the same drying blood. Malik watched Desmond sit back on the bank and stare at it. Malik's heart leapt into his throat, something in his mind screamed at him to move and get to Desmond… NOW!
Without a second thought Malik hopped the handrail. He skidded, uncontrolled down the back, and ran quickly towards Desmond.
Assassins creed
"You better not be planning to do something stupid with that Desmond, I swear to god! I will have you knocked out before you can blink." A voice half yelled, half growled at him. Desmond couldn't help but flinch at the angry, worried, tone in Malik's voice. Closing his eyes, the American assassin tried to fight off the two strong waves of guilt that hit him. Altair's guilt and his own. Desmond risked a glance at his brother and regretted it instantly. Malik had made an attempt to clean up his face of the blood before running into the streets after Desmond. Someone also had apparently set his nose back. The bruises from the hits Desmond had dealt earlier were already starting to develop. You did that, you hurt him, you monster, a voice in the back of his head hissed. His heart ached knowing it was true. Shaking his head Desmond pushed himself to his feet to try and run again, but Malik was quicker, his hand clamping tightly around Desmond's thin wrist.
"Let me go Malik!" Desmond growled, pulling on his wrist.
"Fuck no! Not until we talk!" Malik bit back. Tears started to form in Desmond's eyes again. Closing his eyes, Desmond continued to try and pry Malik's hand off his wrist but nothing he did made a difference. Finally Desmond just gave up fighting all together. What was the point? Malik wasn't going to let him go, not now.
Desmond sunk to the ground, and pulled his knees up close to his body, wrapping his free arm around them. Trying to fold in on himself, trying to cage himself in. He still wasn't in complete control of himself yet. He could still feel the barest whisper of Altair in the back of his mind, crying out in agony over the loss of his friend. He could feel Altair's sorrow and anger just below the surface. His own personal emotions were all over the place. He felt broken and guilty over what he had done during the Bleed to them. Desmond felt angry at himself for letting it happen.
"You shouldn't have followed me." Desmond whispered, placing his head on his knees. Malik sat down on the sand beside him, the grip on Desmond's wrist lightened, then disappeared altogether.
"Desmond, you're my brother. I will always come after you." Malik said gently, sitting close enough to Desmond's side that they touched shoulders. Malik was showing Desmond that not only was he there as comfort, but that he also wasn't going to move till Desmond was better.
"I don't understand." Desmond choked back more tears that threatened to escape down his already wet face.
"What don't you understand Desmond?" Malik pressed.
"I don't understand why you're being so nice. You should be angry, and rightfully so! Altair should to! I hurt you and Kadar! That's unforgivable! You shouldn't be trying to get me to come back you should be pushing me away!" Somewhere through the rant Desmond went from whispering to yelling angrily. Desmond turned his head towards his oldest brother, trying to gauge Malik's reaction and his emotions. Malik just sat there, not saying anything, keeping his face and emotions annoyingly blank. His gloved hand smacked Desmond hard in the back of the head, surprising the younger greatly. Before Desmond could comprehend what was happening, that same gloved hand was on the back of his neck, pulling him against a strong chest before wrapping around his back in a warm embrace. Desmond blinked in confusion.
"Desmond, you're honestly an idiot if you think we are so shallow we would cast you out and hate you for something like this. We know you can't control yourself in the Bleeds. There is no reason for us to blame you. Besides, we all knew there would come a time when you would have a Bleed that would go out of control. Wounds heal, I will heal, and Kadar certainly will. There is no harm done." Malik whispered to him. Malik didn't say anything after that, letting his words sink in.
Finally, after an eternity of waiting, Desmond's arms wrapped around Malik, clutching at the thick material of his trench coat, pressing his tearful face against Malik's chest before sobbing again. The Rafiq sighed fondly, looking down at his brother. He brought his hand up to run it through the hair at the nape of Desmond's neck in comfort, letting the boy cry himself out. He had been through an emotional roller coaster today.
Desmond cried for another good ten minutes before he stopped. Desmond sat back in the sand, whipping his face and his hoodie sleeve, which was filthy with river water.
"Ready to go home?" Malik asked. Desmond hummed in acknowledgement. Malik stood to brush the sand from his pants. He then offered a hand to his brother. Desmond stared at it for a second, internally debating, before accepting it. Malik hauled Desmond to his feet and they climbed up the embankment and headed back home. When they got back to the base, Kadar all but knocked Desmond over when he hugged him.
"DESMOND MILES! Don't you ever! Ever! Do that to us again! Do you understand? You scared me half to death you jerk!" Kadar cried, hugging Desmond close to him. Desmond only hugged Kadar back. Malik rolled his eyes with a shake of his head.
"Kadar your side… is it…?" Desmond asked, looking down at the bandage at his brother's side.
"It's nothing. It wasn't as bad as we thought. I just need to take it easy tonight," came the reply. Kadar grabbed Desmond's hand and tugged him towards the computer room so Shaun could get a look at his busted knuckles. As Kadar pulled Desmond away, Malik put in a call to a very worried Altair and Ezio. As soon as they arrived back, Ezio just about threatened violence if Desmond ever did something like this again. Altair, surprisingly, just hugged him, whispering how glad he was that Desmond was alright. In reality Desmond wasn't completely alright, but he would be in time. And for the first time in a while, Desmond felt like his fragile world wasn't so fragile anymore with this warmth and caring around him.
Assassins Creed "Comrades in Arms" Chapter 37
Now I'm sorry for how long this update took. I was having a hard time writing this chapter because not only is it hard for me to write Desmond having a bleed but also to have him actually hurting his family. It almost hurt physically to write this. But everyone kept commenting on how they thought how hard it would be on Desmond if he hurt his family. Well now we know, sadly.
I still cannot believe how much support this story has from everyone. It continues to amaze me. Thank you all so much for the growing support. I'm glad that everyone approves of the title change. It took me forever to think of a good title. Also if anyone noticed I found a cover art to use. Do you like it? I hope so.
Now I also have something else to bring up… I have had many people request several side stories and things. So I have been thinking of starting a little collection of side stories that everyone had been suggesting. Let me know what you think about that.
So that new assassin's creed… any thoughts?
Now onto the reviews… (Which are a lot…4 pages gosh)
IgNoRaNcExIsXbLlsS-TaIlS09: Whoa, your name is long. Sorry for the long updates I'm going back to school, I'm working and somehow my boyfriend has managed to drag me to go to the soccer tournament in Brazil. So I am doing the best I can with the time I have on hand. But no I will not abandon you all.
Third Quad: that is an interesting thought but I don't think Desmond would turn all Templar on us. Because when you think about it Desmond spends very little time being Haytham and even if he didn't I think the memories of Connor's anger toward his father would counteract it. And yes I do mess up Desmond life but I love him a lot, he is my favorite character, who I believe doesn't get enough love.
Ghjk: yes I will include Edward and Haytham, but how I will include them is my secret till they come into the story sorry. You have so many good question I unfortunately can't answer because it will ruin the story before I have it written.
TV-head-storytime: I didn't originally plan the animus to be in the story but as the story evolved and I wanted to kind of stick to the original game plot it kind of happened. Yes Ezio and Altair will get some Templar action soon. Don't worry.
Twoey: yes poor Desmond and me forcing him to deal with issues. I really wish this had been Desmond story in the game instead of the untimely way they ended him.
CarterPArker: I'm sure Desmond realizes they are his family now. Soon you will see what lengths he will go to to protect his family. Thank you for the support.
Kasey.J: here is another intense chapter for you then. Yes it is scary how they are so hemmed in by enemies on all sides.
Punzel: I may add teenage stories if my readers like the idea of having a separate collection on little ideas and stories that everyone suggests. Malik does indeed have a heavy duty on his shoulder. And yes Lumoa is still editing.
Wrapped up: I don't like the idea of my character just sitting around doing nothing in time skips, it just seems rather stupid in my opinion. I enjoy writing a Desmond fight because I can mix up Altair and Ezio's style of fighting, which is oddly fun to me.
Rostron: I'm glad you enjoy this world I have painstakingly created.
Loyal fan: oh there you are I was wondering where you were in my reviews. It's good to see my unofficial counter again. it still continues to surprise me the number of reviews this story has. Really only three? Wow. Didn't know that.
Not Just a Twin: I think Lucy knows they are on to her. I think she has a plan in the works. Yes Edward, Haythem and Connor will be in this story but how, I can't tell you that sorry.
Kiptin: you are really going to hate me briefly in the next couple of chapters when it comes to the Al Mualim affair. Just know that it torments me as much as it torments you. It's hard to hurt your favorite character on purpose.
Riel: I am sure it has crossed their minds once or twice but I think Rebecca enjoys the machines and equipment she gets to work with and Shaun gets to put his scholarly skills to excellent use.
FrozenLeaf: well this chapter was partially made after this comment but I had been planning a scene like this for a while.
Lindo: trust me it probably wasn't easy for Malik to agree with this. There probably was a huge fight about it. Al Mualim was probably like Lucy, if you caught that in one of the earlier chapters.
Bold Abbalone: Rebecca I think would like to play around with the different possibilities of the Animus like playing video games. And I'm sure she and Malik has butted head before.
Poe: yes I am back and I would never leave this fan base for this story. I don't think they would ever restrain Desmond like that. If anything they would either just hold him down by hand like Ezio and Kadar did. But that's all I think. I think he knows that he loses a bit of himself each time he enters but he's strong.
Bryce: yes I'm horribly sorry for the 8 months absence….
Nuquod: yes he knows… yes so many fun possibilities…
Ikj.05: hello friend it is good to hear from you again. I am well. Dimitri is well and Australia is nice. How are things where you are? I would never drop this story I enjoy it too much. Yes she is still editing and I will tell her.
Eclectic tastes: I think it's just general suspicion. I have no clue if Malik has a plan laid or not. He has had a bit more to worry about with the change of things. I will try not to be gone so long again. And thank you for your continued support it is always nice to hear from you.
Blue Lou: yes Haytham, Connor and Edward will be in this story.
Raindropdew: I enjoy teasing Shaun, probably too much.
MonMay: glad to see you too. I'm glad you really enjoy this story so much.
Stahlut: yes I will.