Hello Everyone! Hope you are enjoying where the story is going so far! Please comment on your thoughts! I would love to hear them!

In this chapter we are going to be moving through time in Desmond's memories. Look for the Bold time stamps to know when the story changes in time.

As a reminder Desmond's thoughts will be in Bold. Lucy's are Italicized. Rebecca's are Italicized and Underlined. And Shaun's are Bold and Underlined.

Past Regressions

Desmond Miles

"Lucy, what the Fuck," I yell as I am thrown out of the animus.

"Desmond, we have to go!" She scrambles as she tries to gather her things. "Alright, Shaun, I need you and Rebecca to get everything in here, packed up and loaded in the truck." She looks over at me, "You and I will deal with the Templars."

"What?" I try to get out of the animus but I am still so weak. "They are here?"

"It was only a matter of time before they discovered us." Shaun says carrying some sort of equipment. "To be honest, I'm surprised it took them as long as it did."

"Let's go!" Lucy yells as she tosses me a hidden blade cuff. I follow her down to where the Templars are attacking. She tells me about another safe house where we will be able to go to.

When we are downstairs, someone I had hoped I would never see again greets us. "Mister Miles," Warren Vidic says, "This is an unexpectedly pleasant turn of events! And here I thought I'd have to waste more men on you. Kind of you to save me the trouble."

"What do you want, Vidic?" I yell over the sirens.

"For you to come home." He says calmly, "I miss you terribly. There's still so much work for us to do together."

"It's not happening, Warren!" Lucy jumps in.

"You continue to disappoint in every conceivable way, Miss Stillman. I saved your life, once. Do you remember? And this is how you repay me?" He says hoarsely.

"You saved me so you could keep experimenting on people—destroying their lives—and for what?" She snaps back at him.

"Oh, this tired argument again. As I recall, you were there, at my side, every step of the way. Their blood is on your hands just as much as mine."

She looks over at me and says, "You need to stop him."

His words are getting to her, probably because they are true. Yet no matter what the situation, I tell her that I will stop him, and we begin to fight the guards to get to him. After beating a fleet of guards that he sends after us, I finally find Vidic standing at the back of a semi-truck. "Ugh-oh Doc," I say teasing him, "Looks like it's just you and me."

"Enjoy your victory, Mister Miles, temporary as it is." He says backing into the truck.

The place begins to shake, and Rebecca yells that we have to leave. We begin to load the van. I am pissed that we didn't get to kick Warren's corrupt ass, but Lucy assures me that he will get what's coming to him. They don't want to talk about my time with Altair anymore. They want to talk about Ezio and the Vault in the last mission we had with him. Lucy tells me that Altair is over; there is nothing more he can tell us. That we need to focus on Ezio and what is happening in his life. They say that Ezio will lead us to more answers than Altair will, but what they don't know is that I know who Azalea is. I have seen her before in my life. I have not seen her ancestors, but I have seen her. But as we talk more about the Vault and what is in it, I figure that maybe Ezio's answers are more important than a ghost from my past; so, I let them tell me more about the Vault, and I let go of Azalea and Altair. I let them go because more likely than not, she is just some random girl that never made an influence in his life.

The entire trip to the new safe house, we use the animus to explain the visions that I saw and the people of the First Civilization. At night, Azalea and Altair haunt my dreams, screaming desperately to be heard. When we arrive at the new safe house that is the Auditore villa, we try to make our way underground to a more secure area. We make our way under the villa and set up the new base of our operations. It doesn't take long for them to send me back to Ezio's memories.

It has been over a week, and no matter how long I go inside Ezio's life, I can't help but think about Altair's. The last memory ended so abruptly. I want to know more about Azalea and what happened to her. Shaun told me that Altair and Azalea didn't marry, but were they lovers? How long did their affair last? Was this a one-time thing? What ended it? What happened to Azalea's lineage, and is her lineage that of the one I grew up with?

During many of my times outside of the animus, I ask Shaun to do some research on Azalea, and her lineage after her death. But Shaun finds nothing. I give him names of the people I expect to be her ancestors, but he can't find information without last names, that I never knew. The whole search ends as a hugely disappointing one.

I try to remember anything that can give Shaun some working room, but I have nothing about her. Just my memories. Then it hits me: maybe there is something locked in my memories that I may not remember. It is possible that I know more about Azalea's expected ancestors—such as their last name—but I do not remember it. I know that at this rate, with Lucy being so set on Ezio, that she won't give me time to look into Altair and Azalea. So, I go to Shaun and Rebecca while Lucy is in town getting food with my proposal.

"I don't know, Desmond." Rebecca says apprehensively. "It sounds a lot like we are going against Lucy for what seems like a dead end."

"I for one, think it is a great idea." Shaun says. "As a historian, I am fascinated by those who were never written in the history books; especially those with the story to tell." Shaun looks over at his event board where he has been mapping everything we have learned. "Something isn't right about Azalea." He says thoughtfully, his eyes not leaving the board. "There is no recollection of her in any texts." He looks back at us and begins pacing. "We had Altair's journal entries. Scriptures that Lucy could not have tampered with. I find it very problematic that Altair would not write a single word of his time with her. Especially after she used the dagger to heal herself."

"You know anything about the dagger?" I ask.

"No, actually," Shaun says in a defeated tone. "There are many healing relics spoken of throughout history, but there are no mentions of a healing dagger. Though I imagine that if she had this artifact in her possession, it probably explains how she managed to kill all those men on the Kingdom road."

"Shaun," I say approaching him. "You see now that we have to do something about Azalea. We have to finish those memories. She knows where 4 pieces of Eden are! Don't you want to know where they are?"

"I very much believe that we need to do this." Shaun says taking my side. "Lucy is hiding something from us about Azalea, or she is clueless. Either way, there is vital information here that we need to know."

We look over at Rebecca for a response. She is apprehensive, and it is clear that she doesn't want to be a part of this. I'm not sure what we say to convince her, but she shuts her eyes tightly and nods.

"I have seen her twice in my life." I say thinking of the face that has haunted me for so long. All this time I thought they were different faces. It's hard to think of them all the same. "September 1, 1992 and again on the same day in 2012."

"That's weirdly specific." Rebecca notes.

"It's the date that I found out my dad was cheating on my mother." I say taking my seat in the Animus. "The second was the night that the Assassin colony found me at my bar."

"But I thought you said the Templars found you before the Assassins." Shaun says with his arms crossed. I blush at the thought of how that night played out. My heart races as the memories play back. Shaun grows impatient with my dazing off. "But what does that have to do with Azalea?" He says bringing me back to reality.

"I think her ancestry is tied to mine, because my father's mistress looked just like her. And the Assassin that showed up at my bar was her daughter, who was the spitting image of her. She looked like her twin, not her daughter."

"Desmond," Rebecca lightly approaches, "You're obviously a little affected by the animus. Maybe you should rest some more."

"No!" I snap. I must sound crazy to them, but there is nothing crazy about it. I don't know why they won't believe me or give this theory a chance. "If you can go back to Altair's memories, then you can go back to my own and see for yourself."

I lay back down in the Animus and my heart begins to pound. It is one thing to go into Altair's and Ezio's past and live their memories, but to relive my own seems so surreal. It won't be as though I am sitting back and watching a movie. It will be reliving what I have already experienced. I grow anxious wondering what it will be like watching these memories again. I haven't seen her since that night, and I'm curious to see what information we can dig up on this mysterious woman.

September 1, 1992

I walk around the compound aimlessly waiting for something to do. The grownups are in a meeting talking about the safety of the Creed. We had another Templar intruder enter our community and give away valuable secrets. Dad is probably in there deciding the severity of the intrusion, and whether we should relocate or not. I always hated when we had these meetings; they were always so long.

"Hey Des!" I hear a voice yell from afar. I look up and see Deeliah running my way.

"Hey Dee," I say as she comes closer to me. "Any word on what's going on in the meeting?"

"No, they are just talking about some boring rules and stuff."

Deeliah is my only friend in the compound. Everyone in the compound views us as strange children, and often the other kids keep their distance. Even the grownups make faces at us. However, it never bothers us. We are the best of friends anyone could ask for.

Dee has a talent for sneaking into places and not being caught. She has snuck into so many meetings and informed me on the gossip that has been going around here.

"Your dad is not very happy." She says looking at the small home that houses the meeting. "He trusted Marcus, and he's pretty bummed he turned into a spy." Dee adds as she sits down and motions me to do the same. "I stole some crackers from inside the meeting. They are pretty good."

"What does your mom think?" I ask as I stuff as many crackers in my mouth as I can.

"My mom knew Marcus was not to be trusted all along. She and your dad are fighting right now about it. My mom thinks she should lead the Creed because she has 'a better judge of character' than he does." She says quoting her mother in the meeting.

I shrug my shoulders, "Are we going to have to relocate?"

She looks off in the distance towards the small building. "I don't think so. My mom says she will 'take care of it', whatever that means."

We sit and eat the crackers, talking about our training. Deeliah has a bad immune system and cannot train with the other kids. I wonder how she will become a great assassin if she can't even train with us. However, it does not bother me very much. She is one of my only friends and if I don't support her and she gets kicked out of the commune, I would be very sad.

When the meeting is finally over, our parents walk out. I see my dad walking with Deeliah's mother, Willow. He looks very angry and spent. His shoulders are tense and he doesn't look like he wants to speak with her.

"That's enough, Willow. I took responsibility for Marcus' betrayal. I don't have to have you making a fool of myself in front of the entire colony." My father says in an angry tone as they come closer to us.

"William, I believe it will benefit everyone in this colony if I take over your position. You're obviously not in the best position to judge the characters of others, especially now after Marcus took advantage of your trust. You should take a break from your rank and focus on your wife and son."

He stops and looks at her, lowering his voice so that no one can hear. His shoulders are tensed to make himself look bigger, and he towers over Willow. She doesn't look scared, but I am; I have never seen my father look this way.

Her response to whatever my father says is a sly smile as she grabs his leg, rubbing it subtly. She whispers something in his ear that makes him clench his jaw. She turns from him and comes towards us. "Hello, Desmond. I hope you're enjoying those crackers."

I can't tell if she is angry or not, so I respond by handing her the bag. I look up at her sharp jaw line that releases once I hand her the crackers. Her dark eyes peer down at me. I never liked her eyes; they were always so dark and impossible to find the pupil, and they always sneered at me. She is short and skinny, and doesn't look like she could hold out on her own, but I have seen her train the older recruits, and her fighting style is memorizing to watch. Looking at Willow, I see that there is a lot about her that scares me, but above all that I fear is the X scared into her cheek. Though is it is not a very deep cut, it will forever mark her as a vicious enemy. I always wondered what happened to the person who cut her. They are probably in a nameless grave after marking her like that.

Willow plays with a small golden ring on her left hand. I always wondered if it was her wedding ring, but Dee told me that her mother was never married, and her father died before she was born. Deeliah rises and stands by her mother's side without Willow saying a word. I always thought it was so strange how Dee knew what her mother wanted from her and did so without a word of defiance. When my father asks me to stop doing something I don't want to stop doing, I would usually complain. Then again, my father does not frighten me as much as Willow does.

I can see what Desmond meant. Willow looks just like Azalea. It's Uncanny! The only thing different between the two is the scar. Azalea doesn't have one.

There has to be something up with this. I mean, there are clear differences between Desmond, Altair, Ezio, and William. But there is NO difference between Willow and Azalea. They look exactly the same. It's creepy.

Now do you see what I am talking about? I'm not crazy on this.

Later that night we have a group dinner. Everyone in the colony is summoned, and forced to attend the dinner. The grownups discuss the future of the Farm and how new security measures and curfews will be enforced to ensure that all in the colony are loyal to the cause. During the dinner, I learn for the first time that Marcus is no longer alive because Willow killed him. It was asked of my father to do the deed, because he allowed him in the colony, but he could not bring himself to kill such a good friend, so Willow did it for him.

They do not discuss more of the death until the children are moved to another table. I make sure to sit as close to the grownups as I can and hear more about Marcus' death. He was like an uncle to me and I want to know why he would do something as terrible as betray us.

"I just can't believe it." My father says to my mother. "Marcus had been in the colony for six years. He helped deliver Desmond."

My mother hugs my father. "He had us all fooled." She says, trying to make him feel better about the situation.

"I just can't see how he leaked information past our firewalls without being discovered."

"What does it matter?" Willow interjects. "Marcus is dead. The information is in the Templar's hands." My father cringes at Willow's harsh tone but she doesn't stop. "If any of you think you can do a better job at leaking information to the Templars than Marcus, you are more than welcome to try, for you will meet the same fate as he did." She threatens, looking around at all the grownups. "Let us not waste breath remembering a traitor."

I no longer listen to what they have to say. I can't stand hearing that Marcus was a bad guy. He taught me how to hold a sword properly when my father was too busy. He taught me everything with compassion and patience. I always saw him as a father more than my own.

Night begins to fall and I grow more and more exhausted. It's past my bedtime, but the grownups are too busy discussing the future security of the Farm. I look over at my mother and father. My mother holds onto my father's arm tightly while he does not acknowledge her with a reassuring touch back.

A few minutes pass until the grownups begin getting up and gather their children for bed. My mother talks to another couple about the importance of trust when she motions me over. I grab onto her leg, feeling so small next to her. I look around for my father and can't find him anywhere. I release myself from my mother's grip and leave to our small home. I figure that my father is probably exhausted from the events of today and went to bed.

As I walk my way over to my home, I hear voices in the trees near my home. I decide to investigate. If there is another spy, I'll be the one to catch them and win the admiration of the rest of the colony. However, when I hear the voices, I recognize them as my father's and Willow's.

"You don't understand, Willow, he was a dear friend of mine." I hear my father's voice say. I walk over and see they are at the base of the tree that holds my tree house. "I looked him in the eyes and I couldn't do it. I couldn't pull the trigger." Willow crosses her arms over her chest. "I've killed someone before!" My father yells in defense. "He was just like a brother to me." He says sadly. "I couldn't look him in the eyes and do it." He says with his head down.

"I don't blame you, William." Willow says moving closer to him. "I understand your tie to Marcus, and that is why I killed him. I couldn't watch him hurt you anymore than he already did."

She places her hand on my father's chest, rubbing it, making her way down. My father's jaw clenches. He seems angry at her touch, but doesn't push her away. When she places her hand in between his legs, he quickly turns her around and bends her down slightly. I watch as he does what I think is unzip his pants while she pulls hers down.

No wonder Desmond is so messed up. Watching his father shack up so young!

Shut up, Shaun.

I squint to see what they are doing when I hear my mother yell for me. I turn away from my father and see her approaching. I don't know if I should leave my father. I think he is hurting Willow, and I contemplate calling my mother to help her; but she might get angry with me for spying on my dad and Willow. She has always told me to never get involved in the business of grownups, so I stay quiet.

I look back at my father and Willow one last time to make sure she is alright. My father looks over my way, and when his eyes meet mine, he stops and puts his head down as if he is embarrassed. He pulls his pants up, grabs Willow by the hand and guides her deeper into the woods where I can no longer see them.

"Desmond! There you are. I was worried!" My mother says taking me by the hand. "Come on, it's time for bed."

As I walk away with my mother, I can't help but look back and wonder why my father looked so guilty.

Present Day

"Well that was awkward." Shaun says once I am out of the animus.

"I was five years old. I didn't know what they were doing." I say trying to defend watching Willow and my father have sex.

"How long did the affair last?" Rebecca asks.

I shrug, "Probably until Willow and Deeliah left the Farm when I was nine to join another compound."

"Did your mother ever find out?" She asks handing me some water.

I shake my head, taking a sip of water. "If she did, she never told me. She never acted any different around him. Looking back, my father was distant towards my mother with Willow's presence around. But as soon as she left, he seemed to give her more attention."

"So where are you taking us now, Desmond?" Rebecca asks, sitting at the computer, ready to type in the date to go back to.

"Uh, September 1, 2012." I say uncomfortably. "Around midnight." I find myself not really knowing what to think about this memory. As I replay it in my head, I think about what the others will think of me and how they will judge my actions on this night.

Before I can overthink this decision anymore, the Animus begins to throw me into the memories I once lived into a night I cannot forget.

September 1, 2012

The bass pounds my chest, uncomfortably misbalancing the beating of my heart. I look out towards the dance floor and watch the sea of limbs swaying and grinding in the harmonious trance that immerses them. All of them captivated by the sound that beats around them and the substance that drives their bodies.

It is nights like these I miss the quiet life.

The more I missed my family, the more I hated myself for it. I told myself I wanted a new family. I wanted to start over. I had to remind myself that

many people would kill to work at a bar where they can drink on the job. To have a chance to dance with some of the most attractive girls they'll ever see off of a TV screen or magazine; girls that are so drunk and high they will take anyone home; just so they won't have to sleep alone. But it's starting to hit that none of these sacks of meat are genuine in

the slightest. I can't blame them. They are all here to forget. Forget the money they owe for their outrageously expensive rent, forget their neglectful and unsupportive family, and forget their abusive lovers. They were all here to pretend they are living the dream in the magical metropolis they were all promised. Out there, they were all living the dream. The drugs, the alcohol; all fueling their drained bodies of synthetic hope that it might just get better out here.

I turn away from them, telling myself that I am turning away from this life, probably for the hundredth time since I started here. I look at myself in the mirror behind the stacks of high-end liquor that decorates the shelves. What am I doing here? I don't belong here. I belong at home. I am an assass—

"Can I have a water?" At first, I think I'm imagining what I hear, but I look behind me through the mirror to see a girl with her hand gracefully on the bar. Usually when girls order, they yell, leaning over the bar to show as much cleavage as a free drink will get them. It's rare that a girl will order a water, and when they do, they are drunk themselves, trying to sober up a friend that has gone too far.

"You look sober!" I yell at her, cleaning a glass without looking back at her. I'm not in the mood to flirt. These types of girls usually don't put out or tip. "My signature drink will get you out there dancing in a heartbeat. It's called the Shirley Templar!"

I turn around with the mixer, ready to make the drink when I finally get a good look at her. I almost drop the mixer, wondering if my eyes are playing tricks on me. I look at her now, really look at her. That hair, that face, those eyes… that scar. It can't be her. She hasn't aged a day. There is no way she is here in front of me.

"I'll stick to the water." She says, not noticing or responding to my reaction to her face. I'm stuck. I've never been one to freeze up, but she caught me off guard, and there is no way she is here right now.

I must have taken too long to respond, because my coworker hands her the drink and passive aggressively tells me to stop dazing off, but I can't help but stare at her.

She takes a sip of her drink, slyly pushing off the bar to disappear in the crowd. I know I have to make my move. If I don't, who knows if I will see her again. "Willow!" I yell.

She stops in her tracks, looks back at me, and with a smile says, "guess again."

"Deeliah?" I ask, squinting at her. I examine every part of her. I can't tell how she would look at 25. The last time I saw her, I was nine. But there is no way she looks this much like her mother. And that scar. She has the identical scar as her mother.

"It's been a long time, Des." She says sitting back down. "I see your discretion has escaped through your more than creative names for drinks." She says referring to the Shirley Templar. "That type of carelessness can get you found." She glances up at me with those dark eyes, "Well, so can signing your real signature on the lease of your apartment."

I take a not-so-wild guess that that's how she found me here. There is no way she is here by chance. "Why are you here, Deeliah? You left the Farm for another compound. You have no obligation to come after me."

"Such hostility, Desmond," She says taking a sip of water. "I'm not here to return you to the Farm. I haven't seen your father since I left that place." Her eyes wonder away from me, into the sea of people. "I promised someone I would keep an eye on you. So that's what I'm doing."

"Who?" I ask her suspiciously if not my father.

She stares back at me, "Does it matter?" She pushes the glass across the table. I fill it up with water and hand it back to her. "Why are you here, Desmond? I've never pinned you as the partier." She asks me.

"It pays well." I say, taking note of all her actions and glances. It looks like she's scanning the place for an exit. "Are you in some kind of danger, Dee?"

She sees that I take note of where the direction of her eyes are. "You stayed long enough in the compound to know that you should always know where the nearest exit is." She says now looking at me in the eyes for the first time. I try desperately to match her gaze, but it's just as intimidating as her mother's.

"Where did you get that scar? It's shaped in an X like your mother's. It's also on the same cheek."

Her eyes fall down to the table. "Willow thought it would be cute if we had matching scars." She says bitterly reminiscing.

"And where is Willow now; probably the head of six compounds by now?" I laugh, thinking of her dedication and need to dictate everything she does.

"Dead, actually," She says with no sorrow or remorse in her voice.

"Dee, I'm—"

"No you're not." She interrupts. "No one is. There is no use remembering someone no one cared about." She takes a sip of her drink.

I pour her a Shirley Templar. I tell her to drink to forget. She tells me that she doesn't want to forget anything. She tells me that burying one's problems in alcohol or drugs is a sign of weakness. I tell her that she is no longer in the west. That no one here is strong willed, and if she wants to blend in, she should drink. I pour myself a drink, pull the washcloth from my back pocket, and tell my boss I'm taking my break.

I take Deeliah by the hand and weave her through the crowd of sweat glistening bodies. She stops me in the middle of the crowd, downs her drink, and places the glass on the tray of a bartender doing rounds. She then grabs my drink and does the same. I smile, watching her loosen up. She continues to look around, and I wonder if she is still scanning the area for exits. She turns to me and grabs me by the belt, forcing me against her. Once we are touching, she turns away from me and backs up against me until we are pressed together as one. She dances and sways her hips to the sound of the music. She gyrates against me, grabbing my hands; guiding them up and down her body. I can't help but think about how well she developed. Her frame is small, her hipbones stick out as perfect handlebars for me to guide her hips to move the way I want them to. Her jet hair is long and sticks to her arms as the heat makes her sweat. Her skirt is short and rides up as she bends down to dance. She is modest, and tries to hold it down, but she knows it's a lost cause, and when the continuous flow of drinks finally hits her, she stops caring and lets loose.

Her body freezes for a moment, and she entirely stops dancing on me. I try to see what she is captivated by when she looks off into the crowd, but I can't see anything besides people dancing and drinking. Finally, she looks back at me. I watch her as she examines my face. I'm usually good at reading when a girl wants me to kiss them or not, but I can't tell with her. I can't read her face. There are so many memories that her face reminds me of; all of them being her mother. She intimidates me, and I become that awkward kid back at the Farm that everyone whispered about.

Finally, she makes the move and lifts herself up and presses her lips against mine. When our lips touch, I stop dancing entirely. I'm frozen in her kiss. My hands clamp up, I don't touch her or move an inch of my body. I'm paralyzed by her touch.

She turns towards me, moves my hands on her ass, looks up at me, and begins kissing me again. I snap out of this trance and grab her, bringing her closer until there is no space between us. I kiss her the best way I can, but my lips quiver against hers. She grabs the back of my head, moving it to the side so she can get a better angle. Her kiss is like nothing I have ever experienced. I'm captivated by her experience in touch. I hate that I am letting her take over, but I am blindsided by her actions. I never thought I would see Deeliah again. Let alone see her like this. She was just as awkward of a kid as I was.

She pulls away from me and I feel a pang in my heart. I don't want this to end. "Let's go to your house and fuck." She says bluntly.

I'm surprised by her actions. I never expected her to turn out this way, but I love it. I take her hand and guide her out of the bar. I get us a cab because it is classier than the subway. I'm glad we do, because Dee can't take her hands off of me. She keeps a meaningless conversation with the cab driver while rubbing me in-between my legs. She's driving me nuts but refuses to give it all to me until we are at my house.

When the driver stops, I almost leap out of the cab to get into the house. I throw him money and make my way to the elevator. She tells me that she wants to take the stairs and despite me telling her that I live on the seventh floor, she insists we take the stairs, so I oblige. She's driving me insane by drunkenly shoving me against the railings and kissing and rubbing me.

It probably takes us more than twice the time it normally does to get up the stairs, but once we are in front of my door, a wave of relief fills me, knowing that I almost have all of her.

When I open the door, she instantly pushes past me and scans the apartment. The studio is small, and besides the front door, the fire escape is the only exit. It's as if she suddenly sobers up and begins to check all of my cabinets and drawers.

"What are you doing?" I ask somewhat irritated that she has gotten me this riled up just to rummage around my apartment looking for something.

"You're so careless with hiding your identity that I have to make sure no one has bugged your house."

I watch her as she searches through my house and wonder if she was ever drunk in the first place. She looks so sober right now. My guess is that she faked everything and got me riled up just so she can check my house for bugs. She was probably sent by my father to do this. A fury boils inside me thinking about how he doesn't trust me.

"If my father sent you here, I want you to leave." I say sternly.

She looks back at me surprised that my mind went there. "I told you, I haven't seen your father since I left the Farm." She says, continuing to look around.

"Then why are you here?" I ask, showing my anger so she knows I'm not joking around with her.

She pulls a device from under my TV stand, ripping the wires and cables out. "Because you're too ignorant to realize that you and your family have enemies." She says holding out the bug for me to see.

"How did that get there? Who… who put that there?" I suddenly feel invaded, as if nothing is safe around me.

"I did. Four days ago." She admits. "It was a test to see if you were still practicing what the Farm taught you. And clearly you aren't."

"How did you get in here?"

"I snuck in through your fire escape while you were sleeping one night. You also need to work on how deep of a sleeper you are."

My face is getting hot, and I'm starting to not want to hear another word about this. "Look, Deeliah, they have you hypnotized. There is no secret organization of Templars out to kill us. There is no secret thousand-year war being waged. The Templars and Assassins haven't existed for over hundreds of years!" I look at her and she is not fazed by anything I am saying. Usually people from the Farm would get so mad when I called them lunatics. But she just listens to what I have to say.

When I'm done complaining about the Farm, my family, and their ridiculous conspiracy cult, she simply says, "You'll get hit with the truth soon, Desmond. And when you do, you'll make decisions you never thought your life would need to make."

I pinch the skin between my eyes. "Why are you really here, Deeliah?" I say in an annoyed tone.

"I told you. I promised to protect you."

"Who?" I yell, "Who did you promise?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you."

I try to fight but I stop when we hear gun shots right outside my apartment. She jumps and runs to the window to see who it is. "Relax, it's the city, you hear gunshots all the time." I try to tell her, but she scans the parking lot for the source of the shots. "Don't worry, no medieval soldiers out there." I say sarcastically and she turns to me with an annoyed glare.

"Promise me, that when they come for you, you will fight and not let them turn you to their side." I roll my eyes and she presses me, "Promise me, Desmond!"

I sigh, "yeah, I'll fight whatever Christ obsessed medieval lunatic comes my way." She smiles, kisses me on the cheek, and walks towards the door. "Wait, you're leaving?" I call out.

She looks back at me. She is contemplating something. I'm not sure what, and reading her expressions, I think she is going to leave, when she walks over towards me. She sways her hips seductively. Her feline walk driving me insane. I can't have her playing me again. I swear if she comes over here and doesn't give me what her body language is promising, I'm not sure what I will do.

When she reaches me, she places her hand on my chest. Before I can register her smile, she shoves me onto the bed. She climbs on top of me, and I lay back watching as she unzips her jacket. I lift myself up quickly and kiss her when her jacket touches the floor. She unzips my jacket, her lips never leaving mine, and throws it to the ground.

My hands shake as they touch her body, but she takes the reigns in this situation. She places my hands on her ass while she uses hers to undress me. She takes off my shirt, then moves to my belt. She unbuckles the belt and whips it out of my pant loops. She tosses the belt to the ground and I regain my wits about me. I roll her off of me and get on top of her. I take off her shirt, and her bra, exposing her breasts to me. I take a moment to enjoy the sight, before moving my hands to my jeans and unbuckling them. I lift up her skirt and rip her panties. She moans in pleasure as I make my move towards her.

Okay, Desmond, we get it. Can we skip this awkward encounter?

Desmond? Can you hear us? Rebecca, why is he not responding?

It looks like he is too deeply immersed in the memory. Because this is his actual memory and he lived to see it, Desmond's brain is registering the memory as a current one, rather than just watching it. He is no longer using Animus to play back the memory.

How are his vitals?

His heart rate is dangerously high. And because he's not responding makes me fear how deep he is inside the memory.

Well pull him out of the memory!

I don't think that's a good idea. Pulling him out could possibly damage his sense of time. He might come back not knowing who we are and only remember up until this memory.

Well what do you we do? Just watch him shack up with an Azalea look-a-like?

Until the memory sequence is over, or Desmond gains recollection that this is just a memory being replayed and not reality, we will just have to sit here and wait.

I wake up with a horrible headache. I didn't even know I drank that much. I look over to my right, expecting Deeliah to be laying down next to me, but the bed is empty. I feel the sheets to find that they are cold. She's been out of bed for a while. I sit up to see if she is anywhere else in the apartment, but there is no sign of her. I look around for a note, a number, anything. But there is nothing to find. I look under the TV stand to see that the bug she planted was put back. I rip it off and examine it for a note, congratulating me for finding it. But there is nothing. I begin to feel insecure. Did she not enjoy herself? She seemed like she did last night. But if she did, then why didn't she leave me a number? Is this just going to be one of those arrangements where she sees me on her own terms?

I look around the apartment and see nothing but emptiness. Everything feels so empty. I wonder what she got out of this. She just played with my emotions coming back. I was fine living here, not thinking about anyone from the Farm, and then here she comes, prancing into my bar, bringing back everything I fought to forget.

I wonder if my father asked her to come here and check on me. He probably told her to fuck me and make me insecure about my leaving the Farm so I would go back and they could brainwash me with their conspiracy shit. I throw the listening device across the apartment and it breaks against the wall.

I hear a knock on the door and it makes me jump. I quickly smile, thinking that it's her. She's probably going to congratulate me for finding the bug. I open the door, not caring that I am in my underwear and look out to see who it is.

Present Day

I'm thrown out of the Animus as I realize what's going on. I thought it was real. It felt so real.

"Desmond!" Lucy yells, running to my side. "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," I say holding my head. I stare up at Lucy to see the worried look stained in her eyes. "Lucy, I can explain." I say trying to explain why I am in the Animus looking back at my old memories.

"Don't worry, Desmond. Rebecca and Shaun told me what was going on. I wish you trusted me enough, not to do this behind my back."

"I'm sorry," I say with my head down. "What happened?" I ask Rebecca.

"You were stuck in the Animus." Rebecca says standing over me. "Your subconscious thought the memory was real time and we couldn't pull you out of the Animus because of the affects it could have on you."

"Desmond," Shaun says. I look over at him as he looks at a character map, trying to tie Azalea with Willow and Deeliah. "Who was at the door?"

I look down at my hands, "The Templars. That was the day they grabbed me and took me to Abstergo."

"So, the bug that Deeliah planted," Shaun says, "You don't think she knew they were after you, do you?"

"I think she did." I say, "She asked me to fight when the time came. I think she planted the bug to hear when they came so she could follow me."

"But you broke it when you chucked it." Rebecca says.

I put my head down in shame. "I wonder how it could have been different if she had followed me."

"Don't blame yourself, Desmond." Lucy says holding my arm. "We escaped from there, you're safe with us."

"But why did she put it in the same place?" Shaun asks, not looking away from the character map. "If she wanted to hear the struggle, she would have placed it somewhere you wouldn't find it."

I shrug, not knowing the answer. "So, what now?" I say looking at everyone. "You all know what I am talking about with Azalea's lineage. It's just too strange, and something isn't right." I glance over in Lucy's direction. "You don't think Altair can tell us anything else, but I think he can. Azalea is hiding something, and I think when we find out what happened to her lineage, we will find what it is."

Lucy thinks for a while, but once she sees everyone's faces, she knows she is outnumbered. "Fine," she says. "We will continue Altair the same way we had before." I begin to cheer, but she stops me. "We have three days to find anything significant, then after that, we focus on Ezio, deal?"

I agree to the deal and grow anxious at the idea of seeing Azalea and being one-step closer to understanding the woman with the lineage tied to mine.