All Rights go to their respectful owners. Their brilliant minds is responsible for creating this amazing series. I own nothing...
AN: I've been having this idea to write an Assassin's Creed fanfic, with no crossovers. It will turn into a slash. M/M. Don't like don't read. This fanfic has been inspired by esama's amazing work, Catching Heat. Which I have already requested permission and been granted.
For the first scene, I have used the dialog from the Assassin's Creed 3. Again, all credits go to the owners there.
~NicoDiAngeloLover7
A Key, Once Lost, Has Been Found – Chapter 1 (You Were Here… Now You're There)
Desmond was a bit groggy upon coming out of the animus for what felt like the last time. His eyes were determined as he looked at Shaun and Rebecca. But that didn't change what his first words were.
"I know where the key is."
But it wasn't Shaun or Rebecca who said the next words, but his father. A man that Desmond wasn't too fond of being around. And there was still some high tension from earlier. He traced the healing scar on his lip. It was another thing to add to the similarities with his ancestors. He wasn't happy about the way he got it, glancing at the ring on his father's finger. Surprised that his blood wasn't still on it.
Shaun made the drive to the Davenport Manor. It was eerie silent up until the moment that Desmond jumped out of the van and made his way to the graves. He rested a hand on Connor's grave, feeling the old stone. Shaun handed him the shovel and he began to dig. And dig until he found a familiar looking necklace, identical to the one he had seen in the Animus. Despite the decades and centuries that had passed since Connor had buried it.
There was no time to waste as Desmond jumped back into the van, enduring the silence once more. There were no words until they entered the Grand Temple once again.
"Alright, let's see what's inside," Desmond spoke aloud. He had already plugged in the remaining power sources beforehand. So, there was no time to waste as he walked to the door. The key around his neck stared to glow neon green. He ripped it away from his neck and allowed it to be sucked into the door.
His lips thinned; he was a bit wary on what was the other side of the door. He didn't know what it would be, only that it would benefit Juno. But also, the instrument that would help save the world. There was only one way to find out.
"Guess this is it," Desmond said as the door opened.
"We're right behind you," Rebecca clasped her hand to Desmond's shoulder.
The blue glass that had been in front of them suddenly vanished. But the closer and closer that Desmond got the center of the room, the more he heard Juno's voice.
There was a concrete pedestal in the middle of the room. On top of it was a glowing globe that emitted the same blue light as the door did.
"Here at last," came Juno's voice. "You know our story now. Of how we tried. Of how we failed. All our hopes extinguished. Save one."
Desmond watched as she placed her hand on the globe. The blue light seemed to have gotten brighter because of that.
"Your touch, a spark. A spark to save the world."
Desmond had to take a step back when he heard a new voice. A voice he hadn't heard since the moment in the vault with Ezio. It was Minerva.
"Wait! Do not touch the pedestal!" she cried out, marching towards Juno.
"You!? But how? You left! You destroyed the device!" Juno yelled, bewildered.
"Did you think there was only one," Minerva's tone was smug.
"What the hell is going on here?" came William Mile's voice.
"You must not free her," Minerva said.
"Free her?" Desmond said confused. Did that mean Juno had been trapped?
"Juno dwells within these walls, awaiting release. I will explain. While we worked to save the world, she sought instead to conquer it. She used our machines to set her plans in motion. Divination through numbers, there is a pattern to existence. To comprehend the calculations is to tame time. This was my focus. So, I built the eye to aid us, but she turned it to her own ends. When we discovered her treachery, we put a stop to it. And then we left, but first we called to you. That you may try again. We thought it would be safe with her gone. Now I see that we were deceived. She survived, she endured, and then she began to work. For centuries, Tenia and I walked the world, hoping to rekindle the spark of civilization. We shared what we knew, the best we could. We were not the only ones but all the power we wrought till death would claim us. But before it did, I would have one more last look to see if we had succeeded," Minerva explained.
"That's how you're here now?" Desmond asked. The pieces that had been lost to him were slowly fitting together.
"I had hoped you may find this place and finish our work. But it is too late. You and the Templars have squabbled over our refuse. You have wasted centuries and so you have lost your chance. You cannot hope to stop the end now, Desmond. Only to survive."
Desmond had to blink at Minerva's words before Juno cut her off. Did that mean this their once chance to stop this was lost? That all they done was for nothing now?
"Only touch the pedestal and the world will be saved," Juno cut in, rebutting Minerva's words
"Better the world burned, then she be loosed upon it," Minerva snapped back.
"Is that so? Show him then," Juno dared.
Desmond listened to the argument over if they should him whatever they had seen. He had enough. He was tired of all the cryptic clues. He wanted answers. And when Juno had offered the chance to show him, he took it. That was when Minerva showed him the end of the world and how it could be reborn anew. But he knew as he watched, that this was no world to live in. No matter what Minerva may say.
"She would sacrifice you, sacrifice the world. For no other reason than to deny me vindication," Juno said.
"They will enslave your kind, Desmond. Is this not why you fight? Is this not why you came here? To ensure more than your race's future, but its freedom?" Minerva tried to plea.
"What future?! What freedom?! Billions dead! And the whole cycle begun anew. This world has known nothing but heartache and horror since we left it," Juno proclaimed, her tone angry.
"Our gift to them and you'd see it all returned…" Minerva started to say.
"Enough!" Desmond was thoroughly irritated by their argument. All because Minerva seem to rather have the world burn. Well he had already made his decision and it wasn't a hard one either.
"You must not do this," Minerva pleaded one more time.
"Whatever Juno's planning… However terrible it might seem today. We'll find a way to stop it. But the alternative… what you want… there's no hope there," Desmond said.
"If you free her, you'll be destroyed," Minerva said.
"It will happen in an instant. There will be no pain," Juno stated.
"You mustn't!" Minerva begged.
"It's done, Minerva. The decision's made," Desmond said.
"Then the consequences of your mistake are yours to live and die with," Minerva's words were harsh.
Desmond tried not to think about what he was about to do. But first he needed everyone out.
"You need to go, all of you. Get as far away from here as you can," Desmond ordered.
He half expected to hear a complaint about not letting him die. But there wasn't a single one. Not like he expected to hear one from his own father. Some hopes just die young… But Shaun and Rebecca gave a him a back glance. They were worried for him but knew no words would comfort or change his mind.
Juno and Minerva had vanished as well as William, Rebecca, and Shaun ran out of the room. Desmond waited several minutes before he couldn't wait no longer. He took a deep breath, hoping that Juno was right about there being no pain. He tried to steel himself as he walked towards the glowing pedestal. He could feel the slight wind blowing the Assassins robe he was wearing. He usually just wore his hoodie and jeans. He had only worn them a few times, usually for missions. As it hadn't been long ago since his last one and he never had time to change.
Desmond took in another deep breath before reaching out with his left hand. Slowly reaching out and placing it on the glowing pedestal. And then he felt it.
Juno said it would be quick, that he would feel no pain, but she had lied. It was the worst pain he had ever felt, his body felt as if it separated into pieces and smashed back together. His limbs were on fire but mind-numbingly cold all at the same time. An electric current shot up his arm in waves of shocking pain, coursing down his body and into his veins.
He wished he would just die but the pain lingered on.
It got the point it felt like his soul was ripping apart into shreds. He didn't know how much longer he could stand this.
He even tried to rip his hand off of the pedestal. But it refused to budge as a scream was ripped from his throat. The skin on his arm was already turning pitch black, as if he held it under a burning fire and scorched it himself.
And then… he fell.
Hard… to the ground, but he still felt pain. It didn't seem to stop.
Then the floor disappeared from under him, but he didn't feel a thing. Finally rendered unconscious, his body was in too much pain for his mind to bear. So, it shut itself off into an abyss.
The next shocking thing that Desmond realized was that he wasn't dead. Had Juno lied to him? She had claimed that his death would be instant. But she apparently already lied about there being no pain. He could still recall those moments. He shuddered in memory.
Desmond then had to curse and brought his left arm to his chest, cradling it. He was still in unbearable pain, enough where he couldn't quite get up or really move. But there was still feeling in the arm, somewhat. He started to hope that maybe within time, it would heal. Though he doubted that it would ever look the same.
Then he realized that he wasn't in the same place as when he fell. He briefly remembered falling and losing consciousness. No doubt there may be a bruise from that. But he was outside, where before he was inside the Grand Temple. It didn't make any sense.
Then there was another thing, he was still wearing his Assassin robes and it didn't seem to take any of the damage that his arm did. But he needed to find out where he was and preferably soon.
Desmond had to release the unusable arm and let it hang. He used the other hand to push himself to his feet. Though his feet were unstable for a moment, he did not fall. The sleeve of the robe hid most of the arm, but not his hand. He would need to find gloves and soon. He knew if anyone were to see him, it would attract attention. Though there would be the matter if he would be able to use them yet. He would have to wait till the pain receded before attempting to wear a glove over the damaged hand.
And it turns out that Desmond wasn't sure if luck was on his side or not.
"Ser!? Ser!?" came a cry.
Desmond jerked awake. He had been walking for what felt like hours and had decided to rest for a moment. And that moment had turned into a nap.
"Ser, are you alright?"
Desmond turned to look, what appeared to be an older man, wearing clothes that seemed very familiar to him. But he couldn't place on where and how he knew. The Italian words were familiar enough. It made him wonder if that pedestal transported him to Italy or somewhere of that nature.
"I am fine, thank you," Desmond managed.
"Ser, you are not fine. You are injured. Your hand—"
"Is beyond saving," Desmond gritted out, not wanting to be part of this conversation any longer.
The man looked horrified, "How? A doctor surely could help you."
Desmond didn't really want to answer, the question. But figured if he was going to get any answers, it was necessary.
"Burned alive," Desmond responded, it was the closest to the truth.
The man's eyes showed a hint of fear before it turned to rage, "The damn Borgia… imbecille…"
Desmond's lips twitched at the curse, but then his eyes widened.
"Merda," he cursed, not realizing he had slipped into Italian.
The old man looked at him warily, dropping the injury subject. But decided he needed to warn him.
"I would stay away from Monteriggioni,."
"Monteriggioni?" Desmond asked.
"The Borgia has launched an attack…" the man shuddered.
Desmond clenched his fists, that meant that it was 1500. That it hadn't been long ago that Ezio had visited the Vatican Vault and faced Rodrigo Borgia. It would be too late to save Mario Auditore, Cesare would have killed him by now. He couldn't help but feel sympathy for Ezio, that was another member of his family dead because of Templars. He could understand why Ezio hadn't killed him then… he only wished that he had. And knew that Ezio would come to know of who Cesare is.
Desmond knew that he needed to get to Rome. He wasn't sure what he was going to do once there, but he had to do something. There was no point in trying to reach Monteriggioni, it would be in ruins by the time he got there. And he knew there would be no people in the city. It would be just a wasted trip and he didn't think he would have time to spare. He just hoped that his presence wouldn't screw up the timeline, but it wasn't like there was a way to get back. If he even wanted to go back… And now… he wasn't sure he wanted to. He wasn't even sure if the world had been saved. He imagined it would be since Juno would most likely have been released.
"How far is it to Roma," Desmond asked the man.
"It is a three to five days travel."
Desmond nodded, "thank you."
"How will you get there?" the old man asked.
"A friend," Desmond said.
The man looked confused, but Desmond didn't look back. The man didn't need to know that he was going to steal a horse. It reminded him of his days back in the Animus. But he knew there was no time to lose. He wasn't sure exactly where Ezio was. Somewhere between Monteriggioni and Rome. He wondered if he would beat the legendary Assassin there.
According to his memory from the Animus, Ezio was wounded by an arquebusier's gun from the invasion. And he would still fight his way through Cesare's army that sought to invade and destroy his home. It wasn't the same weapon that would be responsible for killing Mario Auditore. But that didn't mean the wound wasn't painful. He could still recall the pain from that, even though it wasn't physically on Desmond's own body. And on top of that, Ezio still fought off part of Cesare's army before escaping through the hidden tunnels. To later getting a horse and attempting to ride towards Rome before falling off the horse.
Desmond still wondered what family it was that took Ezio in and tried to heal him to the best of their ability. That was before the young Auditore went to see a doctor and then later met with Niccolo Machiavelli.
Those events felt so long ago… but yet they had all happened within a few months of time. Had it really just been September when Abstergo kidnapped him and forced him to relieve Altaïr's memories? And then he had willingly sought after Ezio's soon after.
Desmond shook his head; he couldn't afford to be distracted now. He still had a goal to reach and he was still vulnerable to being attacked. He could still fight, no doubt about that. But no doubt his enemies would see his arm as a weakness. Grasping the reigns on the horse tighter, he urged the creature on.