COMMON ENEMY

Author's Note:

So, I got some reviews! And positive ones nonetheless! Because of this, I would like to give thanks to the following users who were kind enough to leave me a message.

They are:

Ayazani: Thank you for reviewing! I was honestly beginning to think that nobody would review, even though they were adding the stories to their favourites and alerts. While I haven't played Prototype (And I envy you) I have read up on the Wiki of the game, and, of course, found the familiar word 'Templars', who are linked to GENTEK in Prototype and Abstergo in Assassin's Creed. This opened a lot of possibilities. Honestly, you liking my Desmond, Alex and Dana has made me glad because I wasn't too sure if I had portrayed them right. As for your advice on Dana, I'll try and give her a more forward attitude in this chapter. I will take your advice and keep calm while carrying on but just so you know, if I was your wayward anything, I would be your wayward daughter.

Future Dictator Inc: Thank you to you as well! I was excited enough getting a first review, but a second? You really made my day when I checked my account and saw that the number had gone up. Now I know that at least you and another think this story is good I'm glad that my worrying over my writing style was probably unneeded to some degree. I've updated as soon as possible and I hope you like this chapter.

SnippetCuts: No, no, thank you for taking the time to write out a review. I was very unsure while writing the chapter due to how the characters might have come out, and I still have that fear even now while I write this chapter because the characters may be different than before. I'm glad you believe that the first chapter is promising and I sincerely hope that this chapter doesn't disappoint. The plot, admittedly, is still a work in progress, but I have an outline of how this story will turn out. I can't really tell you anything, I don't want to ruin anything, assuming you carry on reading this story.

I also want to give some thanks to those that favourite and alerted this story. The usernames are in Alphabetical Order:

Favourites:
Ayazani
Dark Hunter of the Forbidden
Elizabeth Marcer
Fancy Jumper
Future Dictator Inc
Hootinan
MoonBeamerGirl1644
Pixelshadow
TheSeqel

Alerts:
Amon2
AngelWithNoWings1996
Ayazani
FallenBlueRose
Fancy Jumper
Future Dictator Inc
Hootinan
LostShadowSoul
SaxophonesBassi
SnippetCuts
strawberry26
TheViolentHorror
Toastzilla

A genuine thanks to everyone who showed interest and therefore support in my first story :D. Next time, I won't make this note as long, hopefully. With nothing for me left to say, I give you Chapter Two of Common Enemy!

Chapter Two

Desmond was sat cross legged on the floor of the apartment, opposite the coffee table. It had to be the floor considering the state that Alex had reduced the sofa to. Dana was on the other side of the table, watching his face with rapt attention, and Alex was sat next to Desmond himself, so close he could feel the heat radiating from the man? Virus? He still wasn't sure. All he knew was that the presence of the older male was a little disconcerting. Obviously Alex saw him as a threat, but the man (Desmond had decided on 'man' because at the very least Alex looked like one) transformed his body parts and shot tentacles (Desmond was very uncomfortable with that word because of what could be implied and decided he would dub them as 'the fucking scary and numerous tendrils of Biomass') from god knows where. Desmond was little danger to him and he probably knew it. Perhaps it was a kink the man had, scaring the life from others simply by sitting too close.

Desmond reached forward slowly, giving Alex no reason to grab him like he had five minutes earlier, and took hold of his warm mug where his drink of black coffee was still letting off curls of steam because it was cooling off. Sharp eyes intently watched his every movement, and slim pale fingers twitched in their owners lap, the man obviously itching to grasp at Desmond's bare wrist with his long digits, yet again, for apparently no reason other than that Desmond had decided to move.

Eventually, Dana seemed to have had enough with the silence which Desmond was glad for and blurted out just one word; "Spill."

"I don't know where to start." Desmond nursed his mug, sipping from it slowly and letting the bitter liquid spread over his tongue before he swallowed, not wanting to burn himself. "Ask for something specific, something concrete and I'll tell you if I can answer it."

"Okay then. I ask for everything Desmond. Every last little detail you can give to me. Don't spare the blood and gore or the nitty-gritty stuff. Give it to me. All of it."

"You're an Investigative Reporter then, huh?" Desmond asked, gently placing his mug back down on the table. He ignored how Alex had tensed next to him and how Dana had jumped in surprise at his knowing her profession. Desmond grinned wryly. "You were my assassination target Dana. I had to know a lot about you. Favourite foods, favourite hangouts, blood type, how many times you had been to the hospital, your jobs, every article you'd ever written and even exes. Information is a key factor in a job such as the one I am unwittingly a part of. You probably couldn't have even have gone shopping without us knowing."

The corner of Dana's mouth twitched down as if she was about to grimace or frown, her eyes remaining wide, almost hurt and Desmond winced. "I'm sorry if I was insensitive in anyway. I, uh, probably shouldn't have said that but...its information you want, right? Have you ever heard of the 'First Civilisation'?"

Dana noticeably relaxed at the subject change, but both curiosity and confusion lit up on her face at the question he had asked even as her shoulders gently sagged. "No, I haven't heard about anything like that before. Are you talking about the Aztecs or something?"

Desmond sighed. He realised he was going to be in for a long day and sincerely wondered if he would be missed at the bar should he not show up. He didn't even know what time he had to return to Abstergo for. It wouldn't be fun explaining where he had been.

Pinching the bridge of his nose between finger and thumb, Desmond took in a deep breath, letting his other hand run over his head as he ducked it gently, staring at the floor between his cross legs. "Let me start at the beginning...This all began when the First Civilisation came to Earth. From there, things progressively got from bad to worse..."

Several hours later at some time Desmond couldn't be bothered checking, he had finally told most of what he knew, both from his own his own knowledge and from his ancestors' memories. As a result, he'd gotten through about six cups of coffee, a glass of water and two painkillers (for a headache that had come on as Ezio and Altair both tried to force themselves to the forefront of his mid) as well as some toast and biscuits that Dana had helpfully provided when his stomach had growled loudly. "Now the Templars want to gather the information I'm learning from Altair and Ezio so they can find the Pieces of Eden."

"But wait, didn't you say these Pieces of Eden let the person who holds them have these, like, crazy powers?" Dana asked, brow crinkling gently as she stood in the doorway, stirring a coffee she had made for herself. "It's like something out of a book or a movie." Her hands were shaking just slightly and she looked as exhausted as Desmond felt.

Desmond nodded weakly, stretching slowly and wincing as something in his back cracked loudly from the movement and he slumped against Alex's side. He didn't even know when he had first started leaning against the man and quite frankly didn't care. He was warm, comfortable and goddamnit, Desmond could relax against him, something he was grateful for. He didn't even care that every now and then, Alex would lift his hand and curiously touch Desmond's hair or dance his fingers down his spine in carefully gentle strokes, as if he was some sort of dog or cat or something that you could pet without thinking about it.

"That's the reason why they – The Templars – want the Apple of Eden, Dana. It lets the person holding it control the wills of everyone near them. They think they can save the world by controlling it, not as if I believe that they'd do any good in my opinion. The Assassin's are against that view. I'm against that view."

"And you're an assassin?"

"Yes." Desmond nodded. "I am an assassin. I'm not really officially trained, only a little at the farm, but I gained my skills from running through the sequences of Altair's and Ezio's memories. Though, to be honest, I'm not sure if I can – "

"Ezio." Alex suddenly spoke, interrupting him, and Desmond all but jumped straight out his skin because he hadn't expected the man to speak. The deep voice sounding from right next to him, close enough for Desmond to feel Alex say the word as it reverberated through his chest was startling. Alex hadn't made so much as a noise for the entire time Desmond and Dana had been throwing questions and answers back and forth apart from his soft breathing, which would hitch when something offensive was mentioned.

"What about him?" Desmond finally asked, moving to twist himself and lean his elbow on the coffee table to face Alex, trying to keep an indifferent expression on his face.

"Why is it that you said you were him when I met you in that alleyway? I understand enough that you enter the memories, yet..." Alex let an eyebrow arch in question, the motion visible even with his hood covering his head.

Desmond sighed and twisted again to rest both of his elbows on the coffee table this time, head in his hands. "I use the Animus, that machine I told you about, to access the memories. You understand enough from what I've told you, or so you've told me, but it's not just the memories. I am the person, I am living through the memories, experiencing them. Sometimes I'm forced into the Animus for hours at a time, and other times, when Vidic is in a foul mood, or wants information, I'm in for days at a time. I start to suffer through something called the Bleeding Effect because of prolonged exposure. That's why I said I was Ezio."

"The Bleeding Effect?" Dana jumped onto this new phrase straight away, ready to leech even more information out of Desmond if it were possible, despite the new and almost impossible things running through her head right at this moment.

"I get...confused." Desmond wasn't entirely sure how to explain it, frowning a little to himself as he ran his fingers over his head.

"Confused?" Alex asked the question this time, absently reaching out to touch Desmond's hair for the umpteenth time, not even fazed as he accidentally brushed his fingertips against Desmond's fingers.

Desmond snatched his hand back as if he had been badly burnt. It was if Alex had no concept of 'personal space' but he didn't dwell on this thought, focusing on answering the question. "Yes, confused. Memories overlap from Altair and Ezio with my own. I don't know what is mine and what is theirs. Sometimes I don't know who I am, like an identity crisis. I see men and women that have been dead for centuries, I feel phantom pains for injuries that I have never had. I know Arabic and Italian when I have never learnt the language."

Desmond sat back, ending up leaning against Alex's side again, though this time he scooted across so he had no contact with him anymore, pressing his face to his hands, not caring if his voice was muffled. "And sometimes, when the memories are the strongest, the personalities of Ezio and Altair take over. I don't understand why it happens and I can't really complain or question it, so I learn to live with it." Desmond lifted his head and moved to touch the scar that was ever present on his lips as he held in the urge to give a bitter laugh. "And live with it I have. What other choice do I even have?"

Dana was frowning by this point and Desmond was forced to swallow the bile that had risen in his throat at seeing the pity in her expression, biting back a snippy response to just that one look. He was defensive, he couldn't get around that. He had suffered, he understood the consequences, and yet he hated what people felt for him when faced with the facts of his less than perfect life.

"Surely they shouldn't be allowed to do that. Haven't you tried to escape? From what I hear, you've got these badass assassin skills, yet you can't even run away from one man?" Eventually Dana decided it was her time to speak, failing to completely smooth the frown away from her features.

"It's just that Dana. It isn't one man, or twenty, or even a hundred. If it was like that, I would easily pick them off one by one. The Templars have their claws dug in deep everywhere you go. They have ties in with the President for god's sake, pretty much controlling him like a puppet on fucking strings. It's like that everywhere, every government; every royal family has the Templars hovering about them. If I leave here then I'll be hunted down within hours, maybe even days and then never allowed to leave the building again. It took me months to gain enough of Vidic's confidence before he started giving me contracts. I would have done anything to get outside to see the sky and breathe fresh air. They drove the Subject before me insane. My bedroom was covered in his fucking blood. I don't want to go that way."

For the first time in hours, Dana was speechless. She was left staring at him, mouth opening and then falling shut as if words had failed her. Rubbing the back of her neck and slowly digesting what Desmond had told her, she walked further into the room to set her own coffee cup down on the table before picking up Desmond's mug and the plate that had left over toast and biscuit crumbs scattered on it. She stared at the plate for a moment as if it had answers for her and then sighed as she turned and wandered her way back into the kitchen, the sound of water flowing drifting through the doorway shortly afterwards.

Desmond was suddenly and very acutely aware of Alex's presence. It's not that he was loud; in fact he was the opposite, barely breathing or moving. However, there was something about him that drew attention and Desmond, for the life of him, couldn't figure out what it was. Hoping he wouldn't be noticed, he tried to glance at Alex from the periphery of his eye and found the man staring at him already.

A shudder ran up Desmond's spine as he quickly looked away again. He couldn't deny the fact that he still felt Alex's eyes intently focused on him and he was getting so edgy that there wasn't even a word to describe how he was feeling. Clearing his throat, he looked back over to Alex and asked, "Is there something wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong, Desmond Miles."

"Then can I ask why you're staring at me like that? And it's Desmond. Just Desmond. Don't stick my last name on the end, makes me feel like I'm a kid back at the Farm getting scolded or some shit like that. Job interview sort of feeling." Desmond rubbed the back of his neck as he grimaced, finding it almost hard to keep eye contact with Alex in the way that he currently was. It was making him feel a little embarrassed, the back of his neck warming up.

"It isn't a crime nor harmful for you to look at you. Do I need to give you a reason for why I happen to be looking at you?" Alex moved to rest his chin in his palm. A smirk curved up on the corner of his mouth. "Or, perhaps, there is something else that is wrong?"

Desmond flinched gently, turning his head away jerkily as his cheeks flushed pink. "No. It doesn't matter. If you want to stare, then fine, stare. It's just freaky is all, most people are conscious when they're making another person uncomfortable."

"I'm not exactly normal, Desmond. If you know about Dana, surely you've had information about me. Am I right?" Alex cocked an eyebrow, moving to lean his back against the table, keeping his eyes on Desmond. "I'm not 'Alex Mercer' as it is."

"To be honest, I have little to no knowledge of you. Can I ask how that works? How you work? I know you're the BLACKLIGHT virus, but can I know how it happened, how it all clicks together and work?" Desmond couldn't help the tone of curiosity that filtered its way into his words.

Alex jerked his head, inviting Desmond to sit next to him and, after moments of hesitation, Desmond accepted, leaning against the table next to him, keeping a gap between them as he waited expectantly.

"Alex Mercer...the man whose body that I wear right now, whose name I keep for my own, whose voice I use and whose mannerisms I occasionally mimic has been dead for years now. I have very, very little of his memories, even after all this time that I have had within his body. When I first awoke, I was in a morgue. From there I tried to discover why Alex Mercer had been killed, why I had been turned into this...monster. Why I had been turned into this complete and utter sham of a person." Alex sneered, eyes finally dropping away from Desmond.

Desmond remained silent, swallowing slowly and looking away, feeling uncomfortable and a little threatened, if not scared by the way that Alex was acting at the moment. He decided he wouldn't speak, would just let Alex say what he wanted to say, fair and square.

"From what I learned..." the corner of Alex's mouth twitched at this, as if he was remembering something unpleasant. Considering his circumstances, he probably was, and before he could continue speaking, Desmond interrupted him. "Look, it seems like to me you're uncomfortable talking about this right now, huh?"

Alex remained silent, but the grimace told Desmond everything. Desmond lifted his hand to placate him and nodded as he awkwardly patted Alex's shoulder. "I understand. I have my own situation, yes, though it probably isn't anywhere near as crazy or as fucked up as yours – no offence – and just knowing you have a situation is enough to not want to talk about it. Besides, it's been hours, my ass has gone numb and I don't want to be late for my job, less Vidic realise something is up." Desmond braced his hands on the table and pushed himself up from the floor on shaky legs. Beside him, Alex rose more gracefully, his long limbs unfolding as he stood.

Desmond tried not to gawk at him but failed, looking away as Alex lifted an inquisitive eyebrow at him. Desmond just gave the weak excuse of, "I was wondering how you managed to get up so easily when my legs are pretty much dead. We were sat down for the same time and..." Desmond just shrugged.

"I'm not human Desmond. I thought we'd been through this beforehand."

It was a mortifying knowledge, when you realised you were blushing, Desmond decided, and before he could stammer a response out, feeling like an utter idiot Alex chuckled softly, the noise grating as if he weren't used to laughing.

Alex simply waved his hand gently and slowly at Desmond to calm him, the motion being universal for 'don't worry about it'. Desmond shut up almost instantly, coughing gently and rubbing the back of his neck (he'd been doing that a lot around Alex, he'd noticed. Nervous tick?) as he moved his other hand to pat his thigh gently. When he did speak, his voice was a little uncertain, "I...Could you bring me back to road you picked me up from? I don't know my way from here to be honest, and I probably have work soon." His eyes drifted to window where the sun was starting to dip beyond the horizon, basking the city in an orange hue.

Before Desmond had time to realise what he'd actually asked, Alex had moved his hands to Desmond's waist and thrown him over his shoulder, causing Desmond to make an 'oof' noise as the air was knocked out of him by Alex's surprisingly bony shoulder. Though he wasn't expecting it, he supposed the several layers of jacket and hoodie did hide what Alex was packing underneath – not that Desmond was interested in what he looked like under his clothes!

"Just hold on. You may also want to close your eyes," Alex said in an almost monotonous tone. His arm rest across the back of Desmond's knees, holding them to his chest as the 'fucking scary and numerous tendrils of Biomass' stretched from Alex and twisted themselves around Desmond to keep him secure. Not only was it humiliating, but Desmond felt strangely violated. It was probably his imagination that Alex's arm around his legs had the hand almost too high on his thigh.

Regardless of Desmond's thoughts, he followed through with Alex's advice, clenching his hands into the back of Alex's jacket as he closed his eyes. The vulnerability he felt wasn't welcomed. He was used to being in control, used to being able to do pretty much whatever he wanted to because other people weren't like him. Alex was on a whole new level on his own that Desmond didn't think anybody else could reach but Alex himself.

After a moment, with a sense of horror, he realised that Alex was going out of the window and Desmond had seen that the apartment they were in was crazy high. He tried to swallow the feeling he gained from his realisation and just scrunched his eyes ever harder closed as Alex threw the window open with his hand not around Desmond's legs and threw both himself and Desmond out of the window with a powerful leap.

This time Alex didn't hear so much as a squeak out of Desmond. He was a little disappointed, missing the humour from Desmond screaming earlier, but he decided that it was his subconscious that once enjoyed the fear of others as they faced him.

It took them barely a handful of minutes to arrive back in the dim alleyway where Alex had first scooped him up from and when he was set on his feet, Desmond doubled over, resting his hands on his thighs as if he needed to catch his breath. He almost flinched out of his skin when Alex's hand settled extremely gently on his lower back.

"Are you okay?" Even his voice was soft, as if he was afraid speaking too loud would break or hurt Desmond.

"Fine." Desmond chuckled weakly as he slowly moved to straighten himself up. "My stomach contents felt like they wanted to make friends with the floor." He wiped his mouth and shook his head and sorted out his hoodie. "Thanks for the, uh...the lift."

"It's fine. Will you be..." Alex trailed off before he finished his question, brow furrowing slowly as an unsure expression crossed his face (Desmond was close enough to the older man that he could see his face very clearly).

"Will I be...?" Desmond prompted, trying to read his expression. Alex was good at hiding his features by the hood and a mask of cold, normally able to fend off most attempts at seeing his feelings on his face. However, Desmond was an assassin, a title that wasn't won at all that easily and (with help from the Eagle Vision occasionally) because of his training, he was able to detect the minute changes in the other's expression.

"You are working tonight?" Alex finally asked, face schooled back into a blank expression. "I believe that's what you said."

"Most nights, Alex. Just to get out of the Abstergo building. Sure, I'm working tonight. Need me to save you a seat and a drink?" Desmond grinned at Alex and was rewarded with a faint smile, not a smirk that would occasionally cross his face, but a genuine smile. "Something similar to last night would be nice Desmond."

Desmond patted Alex's upper arm in a friendly manner, unable to wipe the most likely idiotic expression off of his face. "See you there mate. Tell Dana I'll see her around, never managed to shout her a goodbye as you manhandled me out of the window. Oh, don't worry about it, I needed to get back here quick, just tell her it was nice having a chat and that I wouldn't mind having another one."

Desmond's last sentence had been prompted by the expression of near alarm and apology that had crossed Alex's face and Desmond slowly let his hand drop from Alex's arm from where it had been awkwardly resting.

"I start work in about two hours. Feel free to come by after that time." Desmond gave another, slightly less enthusiastic than before smile and turned to walk away. He pretended that he hadn't felt the almost tender touch of fingertips that had brushed against the back of his neck as he walked out into the street.

DISCLAIMER:I do not own Assassin's Creed or PROTOTYPE. They and their characters belong to UBISOFT and ACTIVISION respectively.