A/N: it's been almost a year but i promise, this story is not abandoned! anyways, here's part 17 of desmond's story.


Desmond was awake. Really. Even if he was still in bed with his arm thrown over his eyes. He was going to get up because he had to make everyone breakfast. He just wanted to do nothing for a little bit. Maybe complain some. He could do with some good complaining.

"This is going to be fun," Desmond sighed.

He didn't want to head back into the Animus. Especially not when he would be going through Ezio's memories. And not his Ezio's memories, but the Ezio that didn't have them. That didn't have seven other selves. That had lost most of his family. That had been set on a path that he had no choice in the matters of.

Oh, Desmond could see that Ezio had a choice, of course. But those choices were not ones that Ezio could live with. And therefore, that Ezio had no choices left to him at all.

"You mean that living through another version of myself's memories is not the height of entertainment to you?" Ezio asked dryly. Even after a night of rest, Ezio still carried that shock of trauma. And likely would for a while. Desmond knew he would. "Shame on you, Desmond. Shame."

Desmond sighed and sat up to wrap an arm around Ezio's waist, the gesture quickly returned. They already made the decision that Ezio wouldn't help Desmond with the Animus this time. It was bad enough that they would all be getting Desmond's headaches and other assorted issues from the Animus. There was no need to put Ezio through his own memories. Even if they technically weren't his own.

"We'll be fine," Ezio promised him, and pressed their foreheads together. "You and Altair survived. You and I will survive. You would survive even if you were truly on your own."

"Really?" Desmond asked quietly.

He knew himself well enough. He rolled with the punches, sure. He was adaptive, sure. That was well proven, and would continue to be proven. But sometimes it felt like Desmond went with the flow so well that he could lose himself to it. If Desmond's headaches and the Bleeding Effect were this bad with seven other selves to help him, he didn't want to know what it would be like without them.

"Yes," Ezio said firmly. He reached up to cradle the back of Desmond's head, pressing their foreheads together more firmly. "You are Desmond Miles, and that is no small thing."

Desmond took a shaky breath in. He closed his eyes. His heart ached at the utter certainty in those words. "I am Desmond Miles."

And he believed. Desmond could survive this, even on his own. Ezio would not lie to him about that. Not because Ezio was one of his other selves, but because he was Ezio Auditore da Firenze. But, the important thing was- Desmond did not have to. More importantly, he didn't want to.

Like that, it was easy for the two of them to share the comfort they held with each other. From Desmond to Ezio and back again, they healed their hearts from what happened to them, and bolstered their minds for the upcoming day. And, a step beside them in their hearts, their presence keenly felt even if none of them were visiting, their other selves offered their own comfort and support.

Several minutes later, Desmond leaned back and sighed heavily. He felt so much better, and more willing to face the day. "I have to make breakfast."

"I think that if you stop making food, the others will riot," Ezio said wryly. "Especially Rebecca."

"There is that," Desmond agreed, and stretched his arms above his head. He grabbed his hoodie and put on his shoes. He stared at the bloodstains on his hoodie. "I need a change of clothes."

He'd bring it up with Lucy after breakfast. His clothes were starting to smell of sweat. Soon enough everyone would be complaining about the smell. While Desmond figured that the others weren't lugging around a closet, they likely had at least a couple extra sets of clothing.

"You've needed a change of clothes for the past week," Ezio said and climbed out of bed to follow him.

"So they should give into my demands easily enough," Desmond said and led him to the kitchenette. Rebecca, Lucy, and Hastings were already up and working.

"Do they ever sleep?" Ezio asked, watching the three with raised eyebrows.

"We'll worry about it if they keep it up for the next few days," Desmond told him privately. He had, after all, decided to make this Assassin cell one of his priorities. And that priority meant making sure they took care of themselves. Feeding them was only part of that.

Desmond eyed the leftovers in the fridge, and made a mental check on what else he had available to him. He hummed in thought. It'd be a bit experimental, but if it worked out the way he thought it would, it'd taste fine. Cooking came from the heart after all.

Other than figuring out what to make, breakfast was done quickly. Desmond kept a mental eye on the others with his Eagle Vision. He was amused to find how deliberately the three of them didn't crowd the kitchen door.

"Good food is something to be appreciated," Jun said from her spot on the counter. She had shown up to watch him cook.

Being in the kitchen brought his other selves to him as well. They avoided Desmond and the stove, of course, but they cared little for the lack of space. The eight of them shared their minds and souls- personal space became a non issue in light of that.

None of them had to be there either, but Desmond spent the past decade with cooks of all kinds. Over time, cooking became something communal for him. Having people with him while he cooked and ate made food just taste better.

Desmond sighed. He missed his apartment in New York. He missed his captains, and his friends, and the family he found there. He was glade he could contact them through email now, but it wasn't the same. Desmond had never been away from New York for so long against his will. Desmond hadn't been anywhere for so long against his will since he left the Farm.

"If you manage to steal the Assassins, you can introduce them to Mercury," Elise said, reaching out to pat Desmond on the arm. "I'm sure that your captains are interested in anyone you decided was worth the effort of keeping."

"Sure," Desmond agreed readily. Especially Tristan, who mothered anyone and everyone around her if they stood still long enough. "Now, isn't it breakfast for you too?"

"Probably," Elise agreed, and stretched. "But we've all got people willing to cook for us."

"Then go have breakfast," Desmond said and rolled his eyes. "I'll be fine." Honestly, meal times in this place were the most comfortable times. And the least likely times when Desmond would need any of his other selves.

Well. As long as everyone was more focused on the food and less on interrogation. Which, at this point, seemed to be an unspoken agreement. The situation might change as the four of them got more used to each other, but for now they were okay.

"Call us if you need us," Evei said seriously.

"I will," Desmond promised. That was, if no one showed up the moment Desmond felt any sort of distress in the first place.

The others all disappeared from his sight, leaving him alone in the kitchen to finish cooking. Breakfast was mostly done anyways. Desmond tidied up and grabbed his own plate of food. The others were all waiting by the door when he called them in, looking eager. Desmond valiantly did not roll his eyes at them and went to go find a spot to sit.

How to approve the situation… Desmond had some things he needed to do. There were some that would wait until after they saw Vidic again, if only to get a bearing on where he stood in this situation. The most urgent at this time was speaking with Hastings some more, if only for his own peace of mind. Then speaking with Lucy. Desmond wouldn't push her on leaving, but hopefully just talking to her would be nice.

Desmond honestly didn't mind speaking to her, even around the secrets they both held. It'd been a long time since Desmond had spoken with another Assassin, especially one born into the Order as well.

First things first, though. Desmond needed a change of clothes. It wasn't quite desperate just yet, but he was reaching that point. At the very least, he would really like a clean pair of underwear.

"Okay," Desmond started halfway through breakfast. He pointed his fork at them. "We've got some things to talk about, yeah? Probably. But I have a rather important thing that we need to discuss before we get into any of that."

"Yes?" Lucy asked, eyebrows raised. She had her fork raised to her lips.

"This should be hilarious," Rebecca grinned at him, pointing her own fork back at him.

"Depends on what you consider hilarious," Desmond drawled in her direction. He turned to Lucy, who was the one that would make the final decision. "So. I've been here for a few days now. Things are going better, we've got shelter and food, and I'm actually getting some decent sleep. But I need, and I cannot stress this enough, some extra clothes. And if not a full outfit, at the very least some clean underwear."

"I wasn't going to say anything," Rebecca said gravely.

"Oh, you would have eventually," Desmond told her, "I like to think I keep relatively clean, and I don't sweat like a pig. But still." He motioned to himself and the blood on his hoodie. Even his jeans were starting to stretch in an uncomfortable way. Normally they fit so well. "I am getting to the point where you will want me to have clean clothes."

"Yes, you did request something similar before," Lucy said. She hummed thoughtfully. "We have another supply run coming up. I'll see about setting aside some funds for some clothes."

"Thank you," Desmond said sincerely. "Though I have no idea how you guys are doing your own laundry, I'm certain that you have at least some extra sets of clothing."

"Just a few, but we all have at least a week's worth of clean underwear," Rebecca nodded in agreement. "It goes a long way in feeling clean. Even if we are really, really not."

"It does," Desmond agreed. In fact, he was focusing on the Animus-induced exhaustion to avoid thinking about how long he's been wearing the same pair of underwear. Some things didn't bear contemplating.

After that request, breakfast went the way Desmond expected. They focused on eating and keeping the general peace instead of anything else. His requests for some clean underwear was something of an ice breaker. Hopefully they could keep the momentum going- Desmond had plans for this cell, and he'd like for them to be friends.

Now, to actually speak with the ones he needed to speak to. Desmond was, unfortunately for his mental health, going back into the Animus today. He would have to fit the needed conversations around that. Not an impossible task, but having hard conversations when he was already handling whatever the Animus threw at him wasn't going to be fun.

Though maybe he could use that? If they were slightly pitying and worried for Desmond, it'd make them more agreeable. Hopefully.

Desmond sighed, and leaned on the mental presence of his other selves.


"How are you feeling, Des?" Rebecca asked at noon, eating an energy bar. Despite how many empty cans of energy drinks she had at her desk, Desmond noticed that there weren't any crumbs or stains.

"Tired," Desmond said, shrugging. "But that's my general state of being at the moment, so I don't think it's particularly noteworthy."

"Probably not," Rebecca said, "But I'm going to keep asking anyways. Tired is fine- even if your body isn't moving, you're spending a lot of energy going through memories. Mental exhaustion is just as real as physical exhaustion."

Desmond nodded. That was very true. "Though I do like your Animus way better. Also, not being threatened by a coma, or forcing me to search for a nother Piece of Eden helps."

"I'd think so," Rebecca said, "Though I do appreciate the love for Baby."

"Not sure if it's love, Rebecca," Desmond replied dryly.

"It's definitely love," Rebecca said, and nodded firmly. Then she looked curious. "So, what's it like learning parkour from La Volpe?"

"Amazing," Desmond said promptly.

With the trauma lock out of the way, they were able to do what they had planned in the beginning by sending him to learn parkour immediately. It was still exhausting, especially since Desmond had to also handle the emotions and the memories of that Ezio around learning parkour, but it was definitely better than before.

"I bet," Rebecca said, whistling lowly. "We actually have records of La Volpe, but more as a title than an actual person."

"I know. It's one of the reasons why I was actually willing to try this out when I realized exactly who he was," Desmond said. Nevermind that he learned in person following the master thief around.

None of them were entirely certain that La Volpe didn't know about them, either. Or if he had Eagle Vision at all. La Volpe kept his own counsel, and they respected the man enough to not pry or to worry about it.

In fact, it was odd- this Ezio learned differently than Desmond, so despite the fact that they were learning to do the same thing, they figured out how to do it in different ways. It was a good discussion to bring up with his other selves later. How they learned differently, and how they did things differently. The eight of them could share their skills amongst themselves, and learn from each other, but that was different than learning as each other.

Something to talk about later. The eight of them were curious people, and this was a new train of thought they hadn't really discussed before.

"I wonder who trained La Volpe?" Desmond mused, now that his thoughts were leaning in that direction. "He's ridiculously good at what he does, you know?"

"If he was the master thief, he's probably been at it since he was a kid," Rebecca said, shrugging. "I mean, even in these few memories we've seen the children of his guild, so it seems likely."

"Well, that's obvious," Desmond said. It was one of the things they did know about the man. Those child thieves would grow up to give Assassins a run for their money. It was why they were so invested in working with each other. "I wonder if he inherited the title, or if he's the first La Volpe?"

"I don't think we'll ever know," Rebecca said ruefully. "Ezio only became aware of La Volpe as an adult. No backstory for us, unfortunately."

No, no there wasn't. Either in the Animus or in the life he lived with Ezio. They spent some time thinking about it, but made the decision to avoid looking for more information.

"I don't know if I want to know," Desmond admitted, "There's something about the fantasy of a master thief named La Volpe that would lose some of its mysticism if we knew."

Even with eight people who shared their hearts and minds across space and time, there were simply some things that were magical, often in a childish way. Things that didn't have to do with The Ones Who Came Before, or the Pieces of Eden, or Assassins, or Templars. Things that Desmond learned from the people who had nothing to do with it all. Desmond surrounded himself with the family and the friends he made because they expanded how he saw the world.

That, Desmond thought, might be one of the things he had to teach this cell of his. That he had to bring up with Lucy, too. Rebecca made an agreeing sound. He decided that it meant she agreed with his decision to teach them that.

"I know," Rebecca said, and smiled brightly. "It's one of the reasons I joined the Assassins in the first place, actually."

"Yeah, you said something about a superhero team," Desmond said. Which he was resolutely ignoring, even if it still made his other selves laugh at his expense. He was certain that they would definitely bring it up again and again.

"Well, that was the main reason I volunteered for this," Rebecca said, waving her hand around the warehouse, and the Animus 2.0 sitting centerpoint. "But the idea of the Order of Assassins was something that drew me in."

"Really?" Desmond asked. He thought about it and- "Huh. I guess I just never thought about it. Assassins, Templars, the whole war between the two just seems… so integral to how I saw the world that I didn't really think what it looked like from the outside."

Even those who knew, like his captains, never really brought it up. Maybe it's because they took their cues from Desmond, who viewed them something to avoid. Not ignore, since that made it easy to get caught, but avoid.

He'd have to ask what his captains thought about it when he returned. Desmond would also ask his other selves what they thought, or what the people around them thought.

Altair, Ezio, and Evie, who came from long lineages of Assassins. Elise, from a line of Templars, and raised alongside an Assassin. Jun and Aveline, who joined the Assassins to fulfill a different purpose. Ratonhnhaké:ton, who was sent to the Assassins from a different source.

How had they never thought about this?

"Yeah, that's what you get when you grow up in it, even if you're gone for ten years," Rebecca said, shrugging, as if she didn't just set Desmond off into a philosophical loop. "People get used to some really weird things if they're raised from childhood with it."

Desmond hummed, pulling his thoughts back to the moment. "Yeah, I guess so. I think I should thank you for bringing it to my attention, Rebecca."

Rebecca didn't look like she quite understood why he did so, but seemed pleased regardless.


"Lucy is getting nervous," Jun said that night, in the hour before Desmond would start making dinner. She leaned over Desmond with her arms wrapped around his shoulders, his head tucked under her chin.

"How so?" Desmond asked. Because it wasn't like Lucy being nervous was some big secret at this point. Though perhaps he was more aware than either Rebecca or Hastings about what she had to be nervous about.

"About what you've done in the Animus," Jun said. "Lucy is meant to have you find any Piece of Eden Ezio might come in contact with. But you haven't done anything but learn parkour and some other Assassin adjacent skills."

"Which is what we've decided that I'm doing," Desmond said.

"Yes," Jun agreed, "And that is good for the Assassins. But not for the Templars."

"And Lucy knows how expendable she is," Elise said, pressed against his side. "If she doesn't produce results as expected, they will not hesitate to terminate her."

"Which we do not want to happen," Desmond said. "Yeah, that's going to be a problem. Especially since I don't want to push myself in the Animus. That's a good way for mental instability."

"We'll have to figure out the line between your health and giving them enough information to be useful," Jun said, "Lucy is yours now, and she is too good to just sacrifice."

"That's true." Desmond agreed.

Because Lucy really was. She felt deeply, and held to her convictions. She may have become a Templar, but he would bet that it took years of constant work for them to grab her. And there is only so much that Templars could do to turn an Assassin against their principles. Free will, choice, consent- all things that Lucy must hold true even now. She didn't have any grand designs for power, or egomania, or anything that hallmarked Templar ideology. Lucy was no longer part of the Order, but he thought she could very well still be an Assassin.

"She is like us," Elise said, following his train of thought. "She sees that there are more than two paths. But she doesn't have other selves to find them with her. She is trapped by the divide between Assassin and Templar."

"We'll have to show her, then," Desmond said. "I was going to speak with Hastings, since I'll need to be able to work with him, but Lucy may take priority."

"At least until the next toss up," Jun agreed, "Lucy needs our help the most right now."

Desmond jumped when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He stiffened almost in overreaction, but that was better than attacking Rebecca. Having Jun and Elise there helped.

"Whoops, sorry Desmond," Rebecca said, taking an obvious step back and holding her hands up in front of her.

He should probably tell that for an Assassin with a hidden blade, that was prime stabbing opportunity. A paranoid Assassin would not like a hands up gesture this close to them. Honestly, having the Assassins as hidden and separate as they were tended to limit the actual culture that people brought in rather than raised into it learned.

Though that might just be Desmond, who spent a portion of his life in Masyaf with Altair, and the shared cultural osmosis he had with his other selves. Which sounded like another thing to bring up with them. Desmond was, as himself, actually with other Assassins.

He had no idea what modern Assassins were like anymore. May not have ever known, since he was sequestered away on the Farm for his entire life before running away.

"Don't worry about it," Desmond said, and took a deep breath. Jun and Elise blinked at her, then shifted so that Desmond could move if he needed to. Not that Rebecca was a threat, but maybe she needed him to go somewhere. "Did you need anything?"

"Not really. Just thought I'd ask what you were thinking about so heavily," Rebecca said, shrugging and moving to sit next to him.

Desmond hummed in thought. There were a lot of answers to that question. But…

"We like her and trust her," Ezio said, appearing behind them to lean against Elise. "Tell her the truth. Or, most of the truth."

"I'm worried about Lucy, actually," Desmond said.

"Lucy?" Rebecca repeated.

"Yeah," Desmond shrugged. "Have you noticed that she seems nervous? Or stressed at all?"

"I did," Rebecca said slowly, "But she's team leader, and is also relearning how we do things, since she was stuck with the Templars for so long. Not to mention that she can't necessarily decompress, since we're working here too."

"And she's pretty amazing to do all of that," Desmond said, because Lucy was. She was relearning the Assassin tools, sending reports to the Templars, team leader and therefore in charge of this cell, sending reports to his father… Desmond couldn't multitask that well without help. "I don't know. She just seems nervous about something." He shook his head, sighing. "Never mind. I could just be imagining it."

"No, your instincts are probably on point," Rebecca said, humming. "At least, don't discount them straight out."

"I won't," Desmond said, "But- I don't know. Maybe we can just do something to help her out somewhat? At least a little. I don't know what she does entirely, but anyone who has to report to my father probably needs some back up."

And Vidic. Both his father and Vidic were stressful individuals. Lucy could be bound for therapy having to report to both of them. Honestly, now that Desmond thought about it, he'd try and pull her away from those two just for her own peace of mind.

Was Desmond being too harsh on his father? Maybe. He hadn't seen his parents in nearly a decade after all. A decade was a long time for someone to change. Did Desmond particularly care right now? No.

"Wow, you really don't like your dad, do you," Rebecca said, whistling. She didn't wait for an answer before nodding. "Yeah, Lucy probably needs some time, but we can definitely help out at least a little bit. I'll tell Shaun too."

"Don't forget to take care of yourselves either," Desmond said. "Don't think I don't notice how little you guys sleep. Or that if I wasn't making food how little you would eat." Desmond turned and pointed at Rebecca's desk. "Energy drinks do not make a good diet."

Rebecca huffed dramatically. "I didn't think when we got you we ended up with a mother hen, but I guess we did."

"You don't know mother hen until you have several grandmothers take an interest in your well being," Desmond said flatly. "I'm a good cook out of self defense, Rebecca."

"Well," Rebecca said, reaching out to pat him on the shoulder. "I'm reaping the benefits, so don't mind me if I don't sympathise."

"I feel so comforted. Thank you," Desmond said.

"You're welcome!" Rebecca said brightly.

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