"Y-you love me, don't you?"

The assassin could fight his way thru Templars and guards without hesitation, but this just left him dumbstruck. He couldn't respond, or more like he didn't know how; and looking into those dark eyes didn't help.

"Is that what you're saying, Altair? That you love me?" the brunette continued, his eyes questioning as they pierced thru the other. Malik had never really thought about Altair in that light before, but now that he did, he found a lump in his chest. He was uncertain and questioning; his feelings were as knotted as the bark on a tree, and he didn't know if-if he loved him too.

"Malik, I-"

"Get out." The assassin took a step toward the Rafiq, his arms out in an attempt to get closer, but he was put off by a knife flying past his ear. Altair stared at Malik, surprised to see the man shaking and dangerously close to tears.

"GET OUT!...subjust-please, go away./sub" he said, picking up another knife and holding it in a trembling hand. Malik watched as Altair's golden eyes filled with confusion and hurt, then drained of all emotion; becoming almost soul-less as they disappeared under the cowl of his hood. He watched him nod slowly before he flashed a forced smile, face red as tears made their way down his chin. The assassin wiped them away roughly with the heel of his palm, determined not show this weak side to the Rafiq. Clearing his throat, he managed to direct his voice at the one-armed man,

"I will leave you and your brother be. You will not see me around here...anymore." he said before bolting from the room, out the gate and away from the Bureau. Seeing the other man leave sent a pang of feeling thru Malik's chest; what feeling, he did not know for sure. Little did he know, this would be tha last time he would see Altair in one piece.

i"What was i thinking? I knew something like this would happen, I just knew it! He doesn't like me like that; I was a fool to think that he went that way..."/i Altair thought as he made his way thru the city, climbing up the tallest tower he could find. Avoiding wandering eyes, he reached the top and settled on the scaffold that jutted out from the edge. There he brooded, looking out over the buildings as clouds gathered overhead. He sat there for hours; hot tears running down his face as he angrily buffeted himself with one-sided arguments, until he felt the first drops of rain fall on his head. Before long, he was trapped in a torrential downpour; something of a rarity in Jerusalem. As he hastily made his way down from his perch; his dripping robes sticking to his skin and drenched hood blinding him, he failed to notice the guard climbing up onto the rooftops behind him. The rain was defening; the arrow flew thru the air and pierced the assassin's shoulder without him even noticing until it was too late.

Malik did not wish to linger in the Bureau any longer, the emotions he felt were confusing and strange to him. Deciding to take a walk, he grabbed his small brother and satchel as he headed out the hidden entrance of the Bureau. They walked around for hours, picking up any materials or supplies they might need before heading back. At one stand, the merchant woman would not stop giving useless advice about how to raise children; all of which were starting wear on his nerves.

"You do know that a woman is better suited to care for an infant of that age than a man like yourself. What happened to the mother? Did she pass on or did she leave? Are you the child's father?" she asked incessantly. Malik answered as best he could without losing his temper.

"We have no mother; no, I am not his father, but his older brother; and what do you mean 'a man like myself'?" he responded with an evil glint in his eye. The woman flinched at the glare, then apologized saying she didn't mean anything by it. Taking a few bottles of fresh milk, he payed the woman and turned to leave. The woman called after him,

"Don't coddle that child so much! He will grow up to be a weak man!" Malik threw another venomous glare over his shoulder, then continued on his way; his brother babbling and gnawing on his sleeve playfully.

"Weak my damned foot, crazy old hag has no idea what she's talking about. I'm raising him as I did before, and Kadar was not weak! He was the bravest of us all! Isn't that right? You're going to be a strong assassin when you grow up, aren't you?" he said, cooing at the infant in his arm and rubbing their noses together, earning the Rafiq a chorus of laughter. Before long, rain began to fall, forcing the brothers to retreat back to the Bureau. After he placed everything in its rightful place, he sat on the floor before his desk; cushions placed in a soft and safe area for him to play with his Kadar. Malik let the infant crawl all over the place, even on his chest to the child's happy amusement as they played Peek-a-Boo and Got Your Nose. They played for what seemed like a few minutes before a familiar sound roused the Rafiq from his happiness.

"SHIT!" Altair shouted as the pain radiated from his now weeping shoulder, causing him to stagger. Realizing that his sword-arm was now useless, he made a break for it, running past the gathering guards as they called for reinforcements and the alarm ringing in his ears. The rain made the rooftops slick and Altair lost his balance multiple times before he finally crashed down onto an unsuspecting merchant stand. Dazed as he was, he had to keep going, no matter what. Stumbling out of the wreckage, his vision cleared as the dust settled; barely dodging an incoming guard as he swung his sword. But his movement left him wide open to the guard behind him, the sword cutting into his back. With a howl of pain, he managed to get the man in the throat with his hidden blade, but his body was begining to fail him as he continued to receive more cuts and bruises. Taking out his short blade, he decided to make his last stand there, breathing deeply and steeling his nerves as the guards surrounded him. Altair only wished that he had been on better terms with Malik, because something told him he wouldn't see him again.

"The bell. Why would they ring the bell unless..." Malik didn't continue. Only one person could have made enough of a mess as to cause such an uproar in the city: Altair. Sudden heavy footsteps snapped him out of his thoughts; he raced to the entrance room, pulling the gate shut, then picked up Kadar and hid behind his desk. He held onto the the infant as if his life depended on it; Kadar knew by the way he was being held that something was wrong, so he whimpered quietly as he cuddled closer to his brother. Malik listened to the footsteps as they came closer and closer, until they were right outside the Bureau walls. Holding his breath, he willed the intruders away; though the footsteps seemed to go nowhere. After what seemed like years, the footsteps began to move and fade into the distance, much to the Rafiq's relief. Releasing his breath, Malik pressed his lips into his brother's hair before heading back to the entrance room and opening the gate. Something landed heavily onto the floor of the room; sending the Rafiq into a defensive stance, his brother hidden in the folds of his coat. What he saw caused a strangled sob to escape his throat as he held the infant close against his chest in shock and horror. There in the center of the room lay a mangled and bloody heap; its once white robes were torn and stained, rivets of crimson seeped from the majority of its exposed skin, and its honey eyes were hazy and heavy-lidded. What little air escaped it came in painful gasps, accompanied by bloody coughs and fits of pain. Their eyes met; in an instant, Malik knew.

"Al-Altair?"