Desmond's head throbbed as he came to, though it was hard to tell if it was the Bleeding Effect or the worst hangover of his life. And as a former bartender, that was saying something. As he opened his eyes, he saw that across the Sanctuary stood a shadowy figure he recognized.

Ezio.

He blinked, hoping it would disappear and when it didn't, he groaned. Bleeding Effect, it is then. He blinked a few more times, and Ezio's form came into better view, though as Desmond's mind cleared Ezio began to slowly disappear.

Desmond wasn't unaccustomed to hallucinations of his ancestors, far from it in fact, but this one was different from the rest. Most of the figures that appeared ignored him, but this figure stared straight back at him, eyes focused and intense. Desmond raised his hand to point at the silent figure, and...the figure pointed back.

How the f—

"He's waking up! Desmond, can you hear us?"

Desmond turned his head to see Rebecca standing over him, greeting him with her usual, bright smile. Behind her, Shaun and Lucy were in the midst of packing the equipment. He looked back at the shadow. It was gone.

"Do you see something?" Rebecca asked, staring at the spot where Ezio had been.

"Huh? Oh, no. Just another hallucination, I guess."

"Another one?" a stern voice asked from behind him.

Desmond tensed. It had been a decade since Desmond had last heard that same gruffness barking orders at him but it wasn't one he was bound to ever forget. He turned in the seat of the Animus to see his father, William Miles, standing a few feet away, arms crossed and face set in a scowl.

His hair and beard had grayed in the past ten years and several more wrinkles now creased his forehead but his eyes were as piercing as ever, as if they could read Desmond's every thought. It set Desmond even more on edge and he felt a small shiver of dread at this unprompted reunion. Behind William, the other three watched in anticipation.

Some things never change, Desmond thought with an internal sigh. Still, if ever there was a time to extend an olive branch…

"Hey, Dad," he said. Keep it light. "How've you been?"

"Hmph," Bill scoffed and threw a bag towards him.

Desmond caught it with a grunt. So much for that….

"Start packing. Thanks to your little adventure into town last night, we have to hide out elsewhere." Bill stomped off, carrying a large crate up the stairs.

Was that really only last night? It felt like ages ago. That explained the headache, anyways. Or maybe it was seeing his father again that gave him the headache. Or the hallucinations. Probably a mix of all three.

Desmond opened his mouth to argue, but across the room Lucy shook her head in warning. So apparently Bill had been in a sour mood for a while now. Great.

As he stood up from the Animus he took a deep breath and started tossing things into boxes haphazardly, his mind still on Ezio and the dream (or was it a vision?) he'd been having just before. Desmond remembered being in the jail cell with the rest of the team, then next thing he knew, he was with Altair, no, he was Altair, and he was sitting alongside Ezio and two other Assassins he hadn't recognized. He racked his brain for their names. Christopher? Cooper? No. He thought for another moment. Connor, that was it! And... Edward. And they were on a ship, bound somewhere they had no intention of going. Fortunately, Edward's ship appeared in the nick of time and they escaped. Last thing he remembered was being Ezio and falling asleep….

What a strange dream. Or was it? He remembered falling into the Bleeding Effect in the jail, but this was… different. He hadn't just been Altair or Ezio, he'd been both of them and Connor, someone whose life he'd never experienced before. And on top of that, they'd all interacted with each other. Usually his hallucinations were almost exact replays of events that had happened in his ancestors' lifetimes. But that wasn't possible. Altair and Ezio at least lived several hundred years apart, and the other two looked like they were from other time periods as well. There was no way they could all meet, surely….

Every minute or two Desmond would steal another glance to where Ezio had been standing, hoping to see him once more. But if his ancestor was still there, he couldn't see him.

"You alright, mate? You look like you've seen a ghost." Shaun put a hand on Desmond's shoulder, bringing him back to reality. His brow was furrowed and he watched Desmond with curiosity, as though half expecting him to hallucinate again already.

"No more ghosts than usual," he said, laughing nervously. "How are you holding up? Drink too much last night?"

"Oh me? Right as rain. A little bit of booze never slowed me down."

"Except this morning when you had to have a bucket brought to the jail cell so you wouldn't puke over all of us," Rebecca reminded him.

Shaun scoffed. "You can't prove that."

"Glad I missed that. Maybe this —" Desmond gestured to his head— "was a good thing."

"Oh sure, maybe it is a good thing you're slowly losing your mind and are seeing dead people. That never ends poorly, does it?"

"Shaun," Lucy warned him.

"Stop bickering and keep packing," Bill ordered, returning to the Sanctuary. "We don't have much time before Abstergo finds out we're here."

Furtive glances were shared across the room but everyone obeyed, packing whatever was within reach. In less than an hour, all their gear was packed and loaded into the van and, after saying a quick goodbye to yet another hideout, they were out of Monteriggioni and driving north along empty Tuscan roads.