New chapter is up! I know it's been forever please don't hate me! Apparently I have a life that I had to pay attention to, so yeah. Anyway, I hope you enjoy the next installment! As usual, I don't own anything except the storyline.


"What the hell - "

" How did . . . what is this?!"

"How did this happen?! How could he possibly be here?! Nearly one thousand years after his supposed death?!" Shaun had knelt at the Master Assassin's side, pressing two fingers to his throat fora pulse. He pulled his hand away just as quickly when he felt the heat radiating off the skin. Drawing in a steadying breath, he rose again and turned to face the others of the group. Rebecca had seated herself back at her computer while Lucy watched over her shoulder. Either in shock or still feeling the effects of his sickness, Desmond was perched on the edge of the Animus.

"Well? What's the verdict?" Rebecca's voice was calm, but confusion and fear laced her words. It was clear she was freaked out by the whole thing.

"Sorry, but yeah, he's real. He has a stable pulse but has a fever that's through the roof. It's either sickness or from an infected wound. And judging from the state of his clothing, it's provably the former." For a few minutes, no one spoke., allowing the shock of the reality of their situation sinking in. Finally, Rebecca pushed away from her desk and started towards the case of medical supplies. She rummaged through them in silence until she withdrew a packet of stitches, antiseptic, bandages, and a cloth.

"Help me move him." Shaun said nothing as he and the technician shifted the motionless form of Altair into an empty cot. Both of them winced at the heat that could be felt through the fabric of the robes. Desmond watched as Rebecca fumbled with the fastenings of the clothing for a few moments, a sort of amused pity accompanying the sight. With a heavy sigh, he hauled himself over to the black-haired woman.

"Here," he moved his hands over hers, dragging them gently away from the robe. "I got it." The robe loosened easily, and he slid it down the man's torso. Both of them drew in a sharp breath.

A long, deep gash ran from his ribs to the edge of his his, the wound from either an axe or a broadsword. Various other cuts and bruises littered the skin. All the area around and in the large cut was red, inflamed with a long-untreated infection. Blood, pus, and another unknown substance caked almost every inch of the skin.

"Well, I think we know now that's it's definitely infection, and where it came from." Sighing, Rebecca soaked the cloth in the antiseptic, rubbing the wounds carefully.

"Yeuch." She wrinkled her nose in disgust as the pus liquidated again and began to run. "Is this what infected stuff smells like?" Desmond shrugged, his own torso aching as Rebecca pressed the cloth down a bit harder.

Eventually, the amount of pus being drained lessened, until almost nothing ran out of the wound.

"Throw this away for me, will you?" The rookie assassin wrinkled his nose, but didn't protest. Rebecca smeared a line of antiseptic ointment across the gash, wrapping the still-unconscious man's chest with bandages.

"Okay! I did it!" Rebecca stood, wiping her face with her sleeve and making sure to keep her hands clear of anything on or around her. "That was disgusting. But with any luck it'll heal as naturally as possible with all the funk gone, and he'll just sweat the rest of the sickness out. Oh, and Shaun, next time an ancient assassin warps into our hideout through impossible means, you get to play nurse!"

"I'm no doctor, you know that!"

"Whatever, Mr. Excuses!" Shaun returned to Altair's side, scrutinizing the features of the Master Assassin. Almost everything was a near mirror image of Desmond's face, done to the scar on the corner of his mouth.

"Now the big question." He murmured just loud enough to hear over the sound of running water as Rebecca washed her hands. The technician switched off the water just as Shaun turned around, droplets of water and soap dripping to the ground.

"How did he get here?"

No one had time to respond, because at that moment, a pair of hawklike golden eyes snapped open, immediately finding the former bartender standing a few feet away. And then, a name left the cracked lips.

"Des . . . mond."


Aaand cliffhanger! I'm so sorry to do that to you after making you wait so long! New chapter will hopefully be up sooner. Review, like, all that good stuff. Thanks!