Okay, after a super hard, super long, super miserable battle with myself about this story, here is your next chapter.
Alert: the pages numbers I have given on many of my stories have increased by +2. D: Thanks, spambot.
Another alert: There are no apologies if anyone finds the derogatory racial nicknames used in this chapter offensive. They were not aimed at you, so please, remember that and chillax. It is the character using those words, not me.
He didn't sleep well for many nights. They travelled to New York, where the assassins' headquarters were, where Abstergo once was. Ezio returned with them, and he went in before them. Shaun was sitting outside the meeting room with Desmond, waiting to meet with them, when he heard it.
There was a plethora of cursing, and then, "I trusted you!"
There was a quiet murmuring.
"I adored you, you shit-eating camel-humper! You, the great eagle, the all-wise one, you are the lowest of the low. You inhuman son-of-a bitch."
There was the sound of scuffling, and Desmond was watching the door curiously. He didn't know who was on the end of his father's wrath, but he didn't remember Ezio cursing quite so much. Perhaps time had loosened his tongue.
"I trusted you, and you lied. You assured me he would be all right!"
There was more quiet murmuring.
"You lied, sand nigger. There is no honor in the Order anymore!"
There was a frightening growl followed by a loud crash. Voices began panicking behind the door as he listened to the sounds of the scuffle. It continued for several minutes, seeming to get louder and more violent the longer it went on.
"There is no honor in our Order! How dare you consider yourself a good leader!"
There was a dull, hollow thunk on the wall between him and the fight. Desmond jumped when he heard it and clasped Shaun's hand tightly. There was utter silence on the other side, then the quiet sound of someone crossing the room, and another dull slam against the wall.
"You are no better than a Templar, using us like that—lying to me like that. You are no longer fit to rule this Order."
Another loud crash, and the door opened to reveal Ezio standing there, wiping blood from his mouth with a look of betrayal on his face as he looked toward his son. He looked behind him and shook his head, walking over and pulling Desmond into an embrace.
"I am sorry for being so blind. I truly am a miserable parent."
Desmond returned the hug tightly. "It's not your fault—"
A figure came storming from the room, followed by a second one at a slower pace. Before they could start shouting, Ezio looked over his shoulder and cradled Desmond in his arms the best he could.
"When this is done, I am taking my son. I will not let him be a part of such a corrupt organization."
"Ezio, think rationally," the second figure, the one that had blood splotches growing on his uniform, said.
Ezio snarled. "I have been betrayed by the one man I thought I could trust above all else. I am leaving the Order, and so is he."
Desmond thought the voice of the injured man sounded familiar, but he couldn't place his finger on it.
"I bought your stories like a dog. And I bet that is what you wanted, no better than your old teacher—Al Mulam?"
Desmond's head shot up.
The figure tensed. "Do not mention that old man."
Ezio snarled, pushing Desmond behind him. "I will mention who I like. The fact you used my blind following against me makes me liken you to him."
Both figures pulled their hoods down, and Desmond's eyes grew wide as he took in Altair's and Malik's faces. He winced as he felt the cloudiness of the bleeding effect stir in the back of his mind.
"I should have you killed for this."
Desmond stepped in front of Ezio. He had a defiant, arrogant air about him, and he put it out there that they were welcome to try to kill him. He didn't notice the confused looks on their faces as he pointed out that Altair was a look-alike, unworthy of claiming his title that he had earned. He didn't realize the mirror image fighting stance he had. He didn't notice he was speaking Arabic.
"Enough of this foolishness," Malik growled. "Stand down, boy."
He told Malik that he had no right give him a command when his rank was higher. Shaun stepped in front of him, placing his hand on Desmond's shoulders.
"Mate, this is the twenty-second century."
He rolled his eyes, giving him a gentle push to the side with a command to move, but the historian refused.
"Pet, you are Desmond Miles. Wake up."
Desmond scowled and told him to move. Shaun frowned, pushing his glasses up his nose and delivered a knee to his groin. He crumpled, swearing in Arabic as Shaun got him in the neck, knocking him unconscious. When he finally woke, he felt incredibly guilty.
"Ma-lik?"
He reached around, blindly feeling for his lover.
"No, mate, it's Shaun." He felt a hand slip into his and squeeze.
"That's what I said."
"No, you said 'Malik.'"
"I… did?"
He opened his eyes to see Ezio standing by his head, Shaun sitting next to him. He was in an infirmary on a comfortable little cot. Shaun lifted his hand and kissed it gently. "Yes, love, you did."
Desmond looked at his father, who brushed some of his hair from his forehead. He needed to get it cut. Ezio looked absolutely crushed.
"I'm so sorry, Desmond."
Desmond smiled softly. "It's cool."
There was a soft click from the other edge of the room. He glanced over at the door to see six hooded figures walking in. He vaguely remembered seeing them in a book somewhere.
"Who are they?" he asked, looking toward Shaun.
"Don't you recognize them? Their uniforms? They're the heads of the Order."
Desmond studied them closely.
"You've awaken, Desmond Miles."
He watched them closely as Ezio shifted closer to his head, placing a hand on his chest. "I will not let them touch you."
Desmond looked up at him, recognizing the stance Ezio held. It was second nature. He nodded once and looked back at the men.
"We have come to discuss your treatment."
He nodded once, slowly, as they moved to the end of the cot. Ezio let out a low growl.
"Quiet, assassin."
"Don't you dare speak to my dad like that," Desmond snapped.
"Quiet. You may not speak to us like that. Such intolerance will not be allowed."
Desmond sneered. "I don't care. It's not like I asked for this life. Shit, I even ran away from it."
Shaun gave him a disapproving look. "Hush up. They're offering to pay for your treatment. Don't piss them off yet."
He had Shaun and Ezio help him sit up.
"Now. Before you freak out, we all think you should know that electroshock therapy has come a long way since its beginnings. It's a safe, respectable treatment for a situation like yours. They won't fry your brain or anything. It will be well-controlled, minimal shocks to specific areas of the brain. It might not always work, but you will be safe."
Desmond scowled.
"This is not the older ages," another figure said. "Our technology has advanced greatly, and tasks like this are no longer as dangerous as they used to be."