Chapter Three

Shaun looked at the scene in front of him.

Desmond looked like a complete and utter nutcase, who needed a check up at the nearest mental hospital. But then the historian suddenly had a flashback to the Animus, and how it had shut down in the middle of Desmond's memory. He recalled that Desmond had woken up shouting like a little girl with her knees slightly scraped, that his shoulder had been wounded. Though, this had to be the minimal results of the Bleeding Effect at just the beginning of it all. Although, the fear in Desmond's eyes hinted that Shaun should have been a bit more concerned.

"Hey, Desmond, you alright?" He walked a little closer, to hear the man muttering multiple syllables in clear Italian, still unaware of his surroundings. "Desmond." Shaun tried again, his voice a little firmer. Once again, Desmond failed to coherently respond but for a moment, Shaun thought the babbling almost-assassin was talking to him.

"Dottore, si può risolvere questo problema?" Doctor, can you fix this?

After running the line through his head a few times, Shaun knew what Desmond was asking and he had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing. "Desmond, I'm not a doctor and there's nothing to fix. Now stop being a baby and get down to the warehouse, we need to see if the Bleeding Effect has kicked in – well, other than this nonsense, which would be no use to the Templars," Shaun rolled his eyes, watching Desmond slowly look over to him, with an expression as if he had never seen another human being. "We could use you for a decoy though, put you and your arm flailing skills to use..." Shaun trailed off with an amused grin as he adjusted his glasses.

Instead of coming back with something semi-humorous, Desmond looked back at his shoulder and continued to mutter in Italian while he was in apparent pain. He even grasped at the air in front of his shoulder, earning another deep throated groan as he tried to pry out the "arrow" himself.

"Desmond, snap out of it, you bloody nutter. You're looking absolutely mad, now quit it," Shaun sneered and walked over to him, placing a hand on the so called "wounded" shoulder. Slowly, Desmond looked right at him, staring him directly in the eyes. Before he could say anything else, Shaun flicked his wrist and smacked Desmond against the back of the head.

"Desmond, for fuck's sake, the joke isn't funny anymore!" Desmond gasped and grasped at Shaun's arm, squeezing tighter than Shaun thought the younger man could. "What a drama queen..." Shaun mumbled as he felt the pressure loosen gradually.

"What just... happened?" Desmond asked quizzically, looking at Shaun.

"You played an awful joke. Trying to scare me with the Bleeding Effect gone bad." Shaun grinned, jerking away from Desmond's eagle like grip. Desmond slowly let his arm fall to his side and he stepped away, still confused as ever.

"That's weird 'cause I don't remember," Desmond frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. Bemused, Shaun turned his back on him and began to platform. He heard Desmond follow after him, footsteps clattering noisily on the metal stairs as they made their way to the concrete flooring of the warehouse. For a second, Shaun was worried. Though, only for a second.

"I won't mention your little... "joke" to Lucy, in fear that she'll take it too far and slow down our process. It's not like you've put us far enough behind anyways," Shaun sneered and turned back around, grinning as he tensed himself into the fighting position. Though, there was a little tugging sensation at his stomach, telling him that the whole situation he witnessed wasn't a joke. He ignored it and focused on Desmond walking towards him.

"But the Animus wasn't my-"

"Yes it was, Desmond... because if you were emotionally strong enough to handle the Animus, it wouldn't have broken down on us. It's your fault, because you're weak, and that's hopefully, what we're going to fix. Possibly replace your weakness with Ezio's strength. For crying out loud, if we had Ezio here, things would be a lot easier," Shaun laughed and extended his hand, beckoning Desmond to commence their training.

With a sigh, Desmond turned back to him and rummaged through his mind for the way Ezio had been fighting. Instantly, he jumped out and threw a fist forward, earning a block from the defending historian. Shaun grinned and quickly grabbed Desmond's wrist, pulling him inwards for a punch from his free hand. Trying to move in time, Desmond kicked his feet against Shaun's thighs, leaving a thick, dusty footprint on his black pants, and pushed himself back, just barely missing the incoming fist as he fell on his back. He instantly regretted the move.

Within seconds, Shaun was down on him, straddling him painfully with his hips and finally connected his fist with Desmond's cheek. Struggling out of his tight hold, Desmond tried to knee him in the back but failed, as his legs were being held down by Shaun's ass. Bucking his hips, Desmond fought to toss the older man off but he only failed as Shaun pinned down both of his wrists, leaning over top of him. A light bulb went off in Desmond's head; a way to escape the trap.

"This looks... kind of gay, doesn't it? Are you gonna kiss me now?" Desmond smirked and leaned in slightly, much to Shaun's dismay. He rolled himself off Desmond and brought himself up into a crouch, scowling.

"You dirty prick," Shaun hissed, his brown eyes filled with annoyance. "That was cheap!" Desmond stumbled and got up as quick as he could, a smug smirk clear on his face.

"You didn't have to move."

"I don't swing your way, sorry," Shaun snapped back, being cautious as he began to circle the young assassin.

"Really? Because it damn well seems that you are," Desmond laughed, on his toes, ready for the oncoming attack. But Shaun stopped in his tracks, lips turned down in a tight frown.

"And what gives you that impression?" Desmond grinned; he had been waiting to do this.

"Because, y'know Shaun, your dreams of me must be pretty entertaining... You're quite loud when you sleep talk," Desmond grinned, knowing that this would easily ruffle the historian's feathers. Shaun couldn't exactly tell when Desmond was lying, considering the cockiness of the younger, more immature man.

"You bloody twat! That can't be true, you're not worth dreaming about!" Shaun shouted and finally lunged for Desmond, who jumped out of the way at the last second and continued his jumps backwards, as Shaun continued to rush him. Before Desmond could evade and counter Shaun's attack, he felt the air get pushed out of his lungs as Shaun kneed him harshly in the stomach, and then elbowed his shoulder downwards before finishing him off with another knee to the face. Desmond fell to the ground, a groaning mess as he clutched his bleeding nose.

"What the fuck was that for?" Desmond shouted, propping himself up on his elbows. Everywhere that Shaun had hit hurt like hell, as if he had been pierced by an arrow.

"That was training, Desmond. That Bleeding Effect better kick in soon or else you're going to be covered in bruises with multiple broken bones. I don't go easy just because you're the descendant of two great Assassins – neither of which you seem to fight like."

"Well, excuse me, Mr. I-can-take-out-anyone-and-everyone. You know, I've only been strapped into the Animus for a few days." Desmond said hotly, rubbing his nose, which was already purple and swelling.

"Feels like a lifetime," Shaun muttered, turning his back on Desmond, ready to head back upstairs.

Shaun was at the foot of the stairs, when he turned around to make sure Desmond was following him- not that he cared, exactly. He just needed to keep the novice on a tight leash. Lucy wouldn't appreciate it if Desmond ended up dead just because Shaun had left him alone for two seconds. It was like a toddler being left with a fork next to an electrical socket. You were just asking for a disaster.

"Desmond!" Shaun barked, annoyed to see his sparring partner still sprawled on the ground. "Let's go! I have things to do."

Shuffling pathetically to his feet, Shaun couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy under all his annoyance for Desmond. Really, he had gone through a lot. Between getting kidnapped by Abstergo, harvested for memories he never knew he had, and being forced to relive painful memories that were actually his own, relating to his upbringing as an assassin. All within a few weeks as well.

Though, Shaun was no stranger to life changing at the drop of a hat. Since he had been saved by Rebecca, all those years ago, his life had changed drastically. He had gone from being known as a conspiracy theory nut, to completely disappearing off the public radar. He had started doing work with meaning, with purpose. He was part of the good fight, and he had never looked back on his previous life, had never regretted it. Rebecca had given him a choice when she offered him a place with the Assassins. He had grabbed it eagerly, like a drowning man would grab for one, last, desperate gasp of oxygen.

Desmond, though, hadn't had a choice. He was merely a victim of circumstance. He probably hadn't even known what kind of genes he had, what kind of life his ancestors had led. Being thrown into the deep end of a pool with no water wings, Desmond had been floundering. It had been Lucy who had finally thrown him a lifeline, but Shaun wasn't sure how secure that rope was. Abstergo was constantly biting at the rope, threatening to take Desmond under, and never let him resurface.

Human life isn't all equal. Shaun knew that anyone in their stronghold would give their life for Desmond in heartbeat, because he was the important one. Yes, they were all needed up to a point, and Desmond probably couldn't do it alone, but if Desmond died, the memories died with him. No second chances. No loosing synchronization, only to be reprogrammed back into the memory. If Desmond died, there was no other way to say it: They were fucked. More than Abstergo, even, who had multiple resources compared to the pitiful assassins, who were seen by Abstergo as more of mosquitoes on their juicy human flesh than equals. An annoyance is what they were. Something easily dealt with, but persistent and bothersome none the less.

Pity stung Shaun sharply, as he watched Desmond shuffle towards him, nursing his swollen nose. Maybe he shouldn't have mangled the face. That seemed to be the only thing the poor guy had going for him, especially if he was trying to win over someone as smart as Lucy.

Not wanting to let Desmond know exactly how much he actually felt bad for him, Shaun said, as curtly as possible:

"You should get some ice on that. Your face won't be able to fit under the visor of the Animus if your nose keeps swelling."

Shaun watched as Desmond sighed in agitation- his shoulders drooped visibly.

"Shaun… Seriously? You just beat me to a pulp, and now you're cracking jokes?" Desmond's voice was a little bit nasally because of all the swelling. It sounded like he had a head cold.

Shaun smiled icily.

"I was being serious, Desmond. You really should put ice on that. I was also being semi-serious about the Animus thing."

"That's probably the closest I'll ever get to an apology from you, isn't it?" Desmond asked, still holding his nose. "Well, I guess you won't get much of an apology from me, either."

Shaun looked puzzled.

"What are you talking about?" He asked. "If it's about the Animus malfunctioning, then you should talk to Rebecca. She's going to be-" And that's when Desmond punched Shaun square in the face. It made a satisfying crunch, and Desmond would have killed to get that in slow mo. Shaun shouted out in surprise, blood dripping from his nose, which might even be more swollen than Desmond's later on. His glasses had been shattered, and now dangled from one ear.

"Sorry I mangled your face." Desmond said flatly, and pushed past Shaun, making him stumble a bit. "Maybe that Bleeding Affect is working after all," He tossed over his shoulder, quickly climbing the stairs two at a time.

Shaun watched Desmond climb the stairs, and turn down the hallway to the apartment. He knew he'd be hearing Lucy's shouting at him in a few minutes, so he took a moment to nurse his nose, and catch his breath. All the pity that had previously made its home in the part of Shaun's mind labelled 'Desmond' was gone, replaced once again by annoyance, and, he would never admit it to anyone else, but a grudging respect.

Annoyance took up most of the room, though.

Suddenly, Shaun heard Lucy's voice. It didn't sound very happy.

"Shaun!" She yelled from the apartment, making him cringe. Shaun couldn't imagine how loud her voice was if he had been standing right next to her, because it was really, really loud all the way down in the warehouse. "Get your ass in here, now! Why the hell did you beat him up, you idiot?"

"Don't get your knickers in a twist, Lucy." Shaun called back. "I'll be there in a moment."

With a sigh, he started climbing the stairs.

He didn't get very far, though, as Lucy stormed in at the door to the hallway. She was pissed, and Shaun hated seeing Lucy mad. It kind of scared him, though he would never let her or Rebecca know that. They would never let him live it down.

"Shaun! I can't believe you would do that! He hasn't'- what the fuck? Your face looks worse than Desmond's! What the hell happened down there?" Lucy's blue eyes were like chips of ice, cold and calculating. And ready to jump him if he even told the slightest fib.

Shaun sighed, and shook his head in resignation. The movement made his glasses fall off, which had already been hanging precariously on the edge of his right ear.

"We were sparring, Lucy. I believe it was you who asked me to babysit?" Shaun asked venomously, trying his hardest not to squint and look like an idiot.

Lucy rolled her eyes.

"You know you aren't supposed to actually hurt each other, right? You were just supposed to see how the Bleeding Affect was coming along." Shaun could see Lucy softening, could see her chalk it all up to testosterone and boyish immaturity.

"Trust me. The Bleeding Affect is coming along just fine," Shaun informed her, rubbing his nose, which was still sporadically spurting blood. How in the hell had Desmond hit that hard? Shaun had felt it in his teeth, for Christ's sake.

"Well, he certainly did a number on your face." Lucy observed. Shaun could have sworn he saw a smile playing at the edge of her lips as she touched his nose.

"Ow."

Lucy laughed, obviously pleased.

"Don't be such a baby. It's about time someone punched you in the face. You were practically asking for it. Rebecca will just be disappointed it couldn't have been her."

Shaun rolled his eyes.

"Seriously, I need some ice for this. It's going to swell like a croissant rises in the oven."

Lucy snorted. "You are such a stereotype." She informed him, snickering. "Croissants, really?"

Shaun took a deep breath.

"I happen to like croissants." He informed her.

And Shaun walked past her with as much dignity as possible, leaving her to her own devices.

His nose really hurt.

brilliantmemories: OKAY! So, we finally got it uploaded. I know, I know it took a while but that was because we were both away (even though I still had my laptop and internet) and, well, whenever I uploaded it into the document manager, it would just block together. So I just said, "screw it," after deblocking it for a bit and went in the pool. Or watched 27 Dresses. Either one. And that movie was awful, by the way. So finally, lovely googleit6 deblocked it and yaay we're at her house uploading it now. Oh the joy! Anyways, so I hope you guys like this chapter because, well... Yeah. 'Kay, handing it to googleit6 now.

googleit6: I apologize for brilliantmemories' awkward send off, and, even more so, I apologize for her being a lazy ass. Anyways, we're going to work on the next chapter right after I finish typing this out. There are lots of ideas flowing, and we're super excited to get them on paper. (Or, on Microsoft Word.) Brilliantmemories will get her shit together come next Friday, hopefully, so we can get back to a regular posting schedule. How regular was that, anyways? It only worked for about 2 weeks. Whatever. Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Shaun really was asking for it, by the way.