Chapter Two

Rebecca was trying to compose herself as Desmond sat up slowly, trying to come back to his senses.

"My Baby! What have you done to her?" Rebecca was frenetic as she immediately tried to reboot the machine, which had shut down in the middle of their session, just after Ezio had been pierced with an arrow. She continuously pressed at the green start button, almost crying out in frustration when her control panel remained a sickening black.

"Pressing it repeatedly isn't going to help, Rebecca," Shaun spoke nonchalantly as he watched, arms crossed over his chest, as Lucy talked comfortingly to Desmond. Rebecca's eyes were wide with panic as she stopped momentarily, but then continued her frantic button mashing.

"It won't turn on!" She wailed, feeling as if she could punch a hole through the wall. With her vexation growing to a dangerous level, Shaun disregarded Desmond and Lucy, walked over and stood near the furious woman.

"Y'know, maybe if you had spent a bit more time fine tuning it, it wouldn't be so mediocre and it wouldn't fail on us," Shaun sighed as he pulled off his glasses, brandishing a cloth to wipe the somewhat dirtied lens. As he wiped them clean gradually, he barely dodged a book thrown by Rebecca.

"Shut up! You know nothing about Baby! She's reliable... strong... Nothing like the other Animus piece of crap those Templars create!" Rebecca shouted at him, dropping down to her knees and opened the access panel. With a quick flick of her wrist, she was inside all the wires and Shaun suddenly lost interest in poking fun at her. Shaun knew his limits – he didn't want to bug her so much she'd electrocute herself in all the dangerous wires if she got too irritated. Instead, Shaun fixed his eyes on Desmond, who seemed to have gotten a hold of himself.

"I'm telling you, Lucy... It felt like it was there and I saw it with my own two eyes," Desmond looked up at her, only to be met with a slight concern.

"I know, Desmond – but there's nothing there. No blood, no wound, no nothing. You're fine. You just... need a break. Perhaps we should test your skills in the warehouse, hm?" She smiled, extending her small hand. Desmond took it, feeling his cheeks flush slightly as she helped him off the chair, trying to steady him as he rocked slightly.

"Woah – okay. That's... really dizzy," Desmond groaned, clutching his head as he let go of Lucy's hand hesitantly. He went to sit back down on the Animus chair but missed completely, landing flat on his arse against the hardwood. Shaun instantly burst out with laughter, causing Rebecca to pull out of her jungle of wires, only to bang her head on her laptop desk. She instantly let out a high pitched whine, rubbing her head while trying to hold a weak smile. Lucy glanced over at her for a moment, before she turned back to Desmond to help him – slowly, this time. Rebecca got up herself, brushing off her front with a quick sweep of her hands.

"Des, you alright?" Lucy asked for about the millionth time, steadying him by holding his arm. The assassin nodded slowly, eyes scanning the room for any more archers hiding, arrows with his name written on their lethal points.

"Yeah, just fine... Give me a moment," Desmond shook his head slightly, trying to rid of the sudden pounding headache he had received. A sudden nausea broke out and he felt his hands going clammy, a spontaneous cold chill ran down his spine as he met Shaun's eye.

"Sober up, Desmond. You probably had too much wine from Leonardo's beforehand," he grinned, rolling his eyes dramatically as the historian made his way back to his desk, which was cluttered with various paper works on Subject Sixteen and the riddles they had been uncovering. He sat down and picked them back up, flipping absentmindedly through the pages. The pieces were scattered, unconnected, like an unfinished puzzle. He looked at one riddle, than the next and still – they weren't linking up in his mind, which was a surprise. And what was with that "Truth" video that had small, barely a second long, clips scattered with the riddles? From what Lucy told him, Subject Sixteen seemed like a nut; a loose screw that needed fixing. But from the messages left behind, how all the messages were encrypted in complex computer data – the man seemed more like a genius.

"Shaun, I think you need a break from all that," a sudden soft voice came out from over the historian's shoulder, not fazing him the slightest bit.

"And why's that, Lucy?" Shaun replied in a monotone, staring at the image on the paper in front of him. How could have Houdini had the Apple in his possession? Ghandi was understandable, as were the men at Franklin Roosevelt's meeting – but what significance did the magician have with an item of such power? Suddenly, the picture of the famous man was snatched out of his hand and he had to wheel around to face Lucy, trying to hold his sternest expression. "Give that back to me – I need to analyze it."

"We'll look at these later, when we have them all. There's no use in you frying your brain over answers that are absolutely impossible to find at the moment. The time will come, Shaun, don't stress over these, okay?" Lucy sighed, tucking a loose strand of blonde hair behind her ear. Shaun huffed, adjusting his glasses as he snatched the photo back, trying to not let his agitation show. He presumed that Desmond had disappeared down to the warehouse, anxiously waiting Lucy's appearance to join him. Shaun turned back around and set the photo on his desk, subtly comparing it with the others spread out on the smooth surface. Queen Elizabeth I, Emperor Napoleon I, and George Washington; how exactly did they all fit into this fucked up equation?

"Shaun," Lucy persisted, her lips pressed tightly together as she watched for him to tear his gaze away.

"Lucy, I don't see what the bloody hell else I could be doing. We can't waste time. It's important-"

"-doubly so these days. Yes, Shaun, I've heard it a hundred times. Now, I need you to spar with Desmond to see how his abilities are coming along," she flashed her sweetest smile, trying to tip the tables the slightest in her favour.

"Why me? Can't you or Rebecca do it?" Shaun gave an exasperated sigh as he narrowed his eyes at the woman in front of him.

"Do you want to try and tear Rebecca away from her Animus? I'd like to see you try, cynical attitude and all," she laughed, clasping a friendly hand on his shoulder. He merely shrugged her off and stood up, leaving the scattered papers on his desk.

"And what about you?" He raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling a large dread tumble in his stomach. He had better things to do with his time – and those did not include babysitting a novice assassin.

"I'm reviewing some of the footage from Abstergo – I feel like Altair needs a second look over. Just in case we missed anything we can connect with Ezio," she walked back to her desk, where Shaun followed, trying to put off going down to see Desmond in the warehouse.

"Why can't I do that?" He knew he sounded pathetically close to whining, but anything was better than spending time with that idiot.

"Because I know all about the information, after all, I was there when it was all being collected," she smirked, sitting down in her comfortable chair. Shaun suppressed a heavy sigh, trying not to sound any more immature than he felt like he was being and kicked himself in the ass – metaphorically – and made his way down to the warehouse.

Shaun had never actually babysat anyone in his life, but he figured that this was the closest he was going to get. Unfortunately, he wasn't paid anything except a snarky comment from Desmond or a roll of the eyes from Lucy or Rebecca.

Why did you decide to get into this line of work again? Saving the world? Is the world really worth having to spend even an hour with the unintelligent form of life that is Desmond Miles?

Shaun shook his head in resignation as he entered the warehouse. He trudged down the stairs much like a young boy would make his way to the time out table after being reprimanded by his grade school teacher. Shaun could hear the novice's shoes slapping the cement floor. That bleeding effect seems to be taking its sweet time, Shaun thought to himself. Desmond will never be able to assassinate anyone when he sounds like a bloody elephant.

"Do you want to try stepping on that concrete a little bit harder?" Shaun called out sarcastically as he came around a pile of stacked crates, following the echoes of shoes on cement. Once he saw what was behind the crates, however, he stopped short, his mouth falling open. Stupidly, he pulled his glasses off and cleaned them with his shirt, thinking he must be seeing things. All of his hours of staring at a computer screen must have strained his eyes. He could not be looking at what he thought he was. Maybe the bleeding effect was somehow affecting him as well. Slowly, Shaun brought his glasses back to his face, after rubbing his eyes with his fists, trying to fix this scene in front of him. Once everything came into sharper focus behind his glasses, Shaun realized he had not been seeing things.

Desmond Miles really was doing the front crawl in mid air.

He was walking smoothly, back and forth across the concrete. His arms were wind-milling around his head, and he would lift one of his legs as if he were kicking in the water with every step. His face was blank. He wasn't laughing, as if it were a joke. He wasn't serious, as if his mind had finally snapped. He was just staring straight ahead of him. His gaze was hollow, as if he wasn't even present- as if something else was controlling his actions.

"Uh… Desmond…" Shaun said, extending a hand awkwardly, as if he meant to stop the novice mid-stroke. "Desmond, can you hear me?"

No reply. Desmond continued to "swim" in a small circle, looking absolutely ridiculous.

Shaun had no idea what to do. He could go get Rebecca or Lucy, but something held him here. Something told him that he should keep this to himself for now. Lucy would just worry, and Rebecca was already frantic enough about her Animus malfunctioning- she didn't need to know that the human attachment to her Baby was malfunctioning, too.

All of a sudden, Desmond sucked in a huge breath, gasping and coughing and wheezing like he had just been revived after being submerged under water for too long. He started flailing, and his eyes bulged. His hands were waving and slapping at imaginary visions around him. His eyes were closed, and the previous look of complete apathy was wiped off his face in exchange for a much more animated expression- extreme agony.

"La mia spalla!" Desmond shouted, and Shaun immediately noticed two things: First, Desmond was speaking Italian. Second, he was speaking Italian well. Only four syllables had been uttered, and yet Shaun, the historian, (Who also enjoyed learning languages on the side; seeing people react to an Italian with a British accent was too good a chance to pass up.) could tell that this speech was bona fide Italian.

When in the hell had Desmond learned Italian? Yes, he had roots in Italy with Ezio, but in the past few generations, Desmond's ancestors had lived in America. He had no real connection to Italy, except for Ezio. It couldn't be the Bleeding Effect; the Animus translated the majority of Italian to English to make things easier. They didn't want Desmond to learn Italian; they wanted him to become an assassin. There was no way that Desmond learned perfect Italian from the Animus, and still wasn't ready to become an assassin like Ezio. They had programmed Baby and her Bleeding Effect to affect the specific skill set of Desmond's, so that he could be the most help possible when and if a confrontation with the Templars ever occurred. There was no way that Desmond had learned Italian before he had learned Ezio's skills.

Suddenly, what Desmond had shouted finally resonated with Shaun, who had been too shocked at first to realize what heavy complications that simple, short sentence carried.

"La mia spalla!"

My shoulder.

A/N: brilliantmemories: Hey guys! Just wanted to say we'll try to update every Friday and that I wrote the first bit, then googleit6's bit is followed after the break. Hope you enjoyed, because the fun's just barely started. (:

Googleit6: Hi everyone! Brilliantmemories pretty much said it all, and we're going to the movies and don't want to be late, so I can't say much more, except to enjoy this chapter, and be sure to use lots and lots of imagery to imagine Desmond swimming in mid air. ^_^ We hope you found that part as funny as we did, because we found it pretty damn funny.