Response was okay to the first chapter. I'm happy to see others like the idea. So I won't keep you too long ^^
Daniel trudged through the clean halls of the latest Abstergo facility, terrible coffee in hand that left a sour taste in his mouth. His mood was not anywhere near positive thanks to the past two nights; Rikkin had practically made it his job to watch over 'Damon' in defense that they had him believe Cross was his loyal partner. This forced obligation led to an argument when Doctor Swartz led Damon/Desmond-honestly Daniel wasn't sure what the fuck to call him yet-off for some rest.
His boss's words still left an angry echo in his head.
"Mr. Colt is freshly awake and confused. He's going to need our entire organizations' support to truly believe he is one of us. Doctor Swartz is not enough. And we certainly did not spend two billion dollars just for this to flop onto the floor."
"How exactly does this include me?" It's closer to a snarl than a question.
"Are you aware of the old saying 'keep you friends close and your enemies' closer'?" Daniel falls silent. He's half tempted to childishly bite at Rikkins' hand when it gruffly pats his cheek. "Keep that in mind."
Daniel had kept it in mind; almost all through the night as he stewed in his dismay and anger. So much that he skipped the second day of the project, coming into the Templar facility on day three of his enemies awakening.
He had been aware of his frequent inclusion in the phoenix project, but he had not been informed he'd have to be buddy, buddy with the man that had attempted-and almost succeeded-to kill him. After the relief of near death, that left room for unrestrained fury towards the once assassin, thinking of ways to return the favor.
But of course he'd be exiled (or worse) if he acted on his violent fantasies now. Not only was…Damon a registered Templar; he was also an asset and a high investment. That made him priceless to Abstergo. His anger and resentment was usually enough to make him walk away or destroy the cause of it; Instead he was walking through the medical halls in search of Swartz' work area, where surely the new Templar was having his examination. Cross had to start the 're-befriending' act early.
He didn't bother with the receptionist, just strolled right through the door where-sure enough-the medical professor was probing at Damon's ribs. Said victim of the doctors' cold prodding, twitching and squirming at the attention.
"Breathe." The doctors' scrambled German accent rang through Daniels' ears, the elder man intent on the stethoscope pressed against his patients' side. Damon obeyed. "Again." He encouraged. It went on for a moment before Swartz pulled away, patting his experiment on the shoulder. "Lungs are nice and strong, muscles are naturally reproducing mass, and blood flow has increased. Mein Sohn, how do you feel?"
"Better." The younger responded, moving to put his shirt back on.
"Better as in…"
"Better than yesterday." The soft smile on Damons' face seems to be the best confirmation the Doctor could get.
"Glad to hear. I assume a pleasant sleep then." The green eyed male hesitated.
"It was nice but-it felt kind of weird. Didn't feel like my normal place."
Daniel took it as his time to make an entrance, curtly tapping the ajar door with his boot. The noise gets the attention of the busy duo, his conflicting enemy pointing those eyes towards him. So he looks away, swishing his coffee until the weight of Colt's gaze recedes.
"Ah hello Cross! You're just in time. I've got some good news for Rikkin. Come, come." The doctor eagerly waves the other over, using his index finger to push his glasses back to the bridge of his nose. The eldest of the specialists did not mention is absence yesterday. He watches over the medical experts shoulder as he taps into his ever stuck to him laptop. "As you over heard, junge has made astounding progress within the night! His muscle regeneration is twice as fast as I predicted, and his white blood cells are almost invincible. Not to mention his reflexes have already come to his previous terms-brain activity is at its highest and from what I saw this morning his appetite is-"
"Doc, ya mind shortening it if this is for Rikkin?" the ex-drug addict clipped as his head started to ache. Swartz paused, and then spread a sheepish smile unto his aged face.
"Ah I apologize, Cross; I do not intend to ramble. Just tell Rikkin, he is beyond our expectations." The pride in Swartz statement compels Cross to turn towards the fellow subject. The young man must be self-conscious-he turns the moment Daniel eyes land on him, the two locking into another stare that the blonde feels the need to break. Just something about Damon/Desmond-Jesus Christ it was hard to retrain names-was just too abruptly different. It ticked at Daniels' anxiety. But the hair brained doctor comes between them, cradling his lap top as if he was in a hurry.
It turned out he indeed was.
XxX
Here came Daniels anger again; though his companion was clueless to it as the two awkwardly strolled through the perfectly decorated and windowed building known as Rome's' own Abstergo. Swartz seemed to have received an urgent message from the laboratory below, and had recommended Damon to tour the building, refresh his memory. The other day had been totally dedicated to informing the Colt of his life-of any family and reason of joining the Templars. Apparently the new story had incorporated the most prominent moments of Damon's older life and had 'edited' them into something close enough to the past.
All courtesy of the skilled physiatrists in the building. Hell, they even convinced a few veteran members to come in and welcome the rookie as if he had been there. Of course, with Daniel there the doctor had pulled a pretty sly move of saying Daniel could answer any questions Damon needed. That left the two so called partners alone, and Daniel awe struck.
Even so: Damon didn't ask a thing through their walk, perfectly content pausing to examine a painting on the wall, trivially plopping down in a reception chair and get back up to do more exploring. He was much like that good child in your class that never made a noise during a field trip, bit did every little activity offered.
It seemed Rikkin was serious when he meant the entire organization needed to show their support, multiple strangers smiling or saying hello to the two as if they were used to seeing them together.
With every friendly glance or greeting, Daniel could feel Damon focusing on him as if searching for a sign that this behavior was normal. He brushed it off with shrugs and answering flickers of eye contact, enough to either keep him sated or enough to make him uncertain. Daniel wasn't too sure which and frankly he could care less. He lost track of time after who knows how long of walking, tempted to tell Damon he'd learn again as time went, when the individual halted himself. He craned his head to curiously look inside a certain room; grunts and noises of impact enough info for Daniel.
It was the combat gym. Daniel had spent his first few months locked inside the clammy area; needing something to vent and prove that Abstergo was where he was meant to stay. He had taken months, maybe years of frustration out on the frequently replaced punching bags. It was clear Damon was pretty keen on going in-maybe something from his previous life mixing with what Rikkin had told him, turning into a curious flicker of familiarity.
He was proved right when green eyes came to him, the request ready to come out of his mouth. So Daniel shrugs, gruffly moving the other to open the door, intensifying the sounds muffled by the door. It was much like it had been when Daniel spent time there; only a few bored lunch stragglers practicing common self-defense or lifting weights, radio struggling to play tunes over the clatters and clangs of the equipment. The scent was stronger, mustier than usual. But other than that the area had been untouched by Abstergo's constant upgrades and altercations.
The blonde was a bit overwhelmed by the nostalgia.
He watched Damon tentively take it in, as if his mind was piecing memories with the place. It surprised Daniel how open of a book Damon was so lost; he could see his confusion and struggle to find a flicker of comfort in the gym. His youthful face reflected his thoughts as he soaked in the loud, stuffy recreation center. The darker male shook his head, previously damaged hand flexing.
"I really don't remember anything…." He muttered, barely heard over the thumps and crashes of the gym. Daniel has to get closer to hear his walk partner speak.
"What?"
"Donavan-"
"Who the hell is-"
"Sorry, Swartz-he said that I spent a lot of time in here. With you-with others but I just…can't get it." The last part is murmured, as if he's saddened that he can't grab the positive moments he seemingly spent with the older Templar. A few patrons slowed their work out to study the two, being dead middle in the gym. He was sure they were curious as to why Abstegos largest project was inside the laid back space of the workout area.
Or more specifically why Daniel 'no shit' Cross was docilely interacting with the person that nearly took his life.
Daniel spots an abandoned rod lying innocently by his foot, eyes flicking to the ex-assassins back turned to him. "Memories take time." He mutters, bending to swipe the thin pole off the ground. "Especially after-you know-all your shit." He adds, slowly walking behind the young one. He's quite sure some sarcasm-some of his grudge- slivered into his voice. If so, the oblivious target didn't pay attention.
"How exactly do I know you?" Damon sounds a little agitated, crossing his arms and remained turned away from the sneaking Templar. Daniel pauses, thinking of a way to tie his test into a good story for the confused experiment. A wicked thought strikes his mind, something resembling a grin crossing his face.
"Believe it or not…" He begins, moving close enough for Damon to feel his presence. "We met in…HERE!" He shouts the last word-using every ounce of strength he had to reel the metal rod right towards Damon's' skull. Perhaps he had more than one motive to do this.
It really didn't worry him if he succeeded in his bluff.
But the sound of two different weights colliding never reach Daniel ears, the steel piece of equipment caught firmly in a frightened-and slightly angered- Damon's grip. They stop their moving, maybe even their breathing-as adrenaline laced gazes met paired with heavy breathing. The near victims hand tightened around the metal- to make sure his companion didn't have any more tricks. Damon broke the contact first, attention going towards the heavy pole wrapped in his hand. Daniel let that not quite grin make up his expression, releasing the momentary weapon.
"Well damn-"He breathed, crossing his arms as Damon dropped the rod like it burned him. "The doc wasn't kidding. You've got your reflexes back." Though Daniel hadn't been too sure about how much of his natural body movements he still harbored. He barely knew the transformed prick, so who knows what his motor skills were like before. Or all his time in the Animus still left traces of stealth expertize.
He knew one thing- the previous Desmond wouldn't have caught that. It had been worth the try…or test. Whichever settled his reasons? The new Templar was still in shock, examining his hand looking for damage.
"You knew I'd catch that?" There was a sort of excitement in Damon's expression, as if Daniel challenging him was enough to show a sliver of clarity in his cloud of doubt. It was physically hard for Daniel to put a friendly smirk on his face for the other.
"Hell yeah. You were always quick to act. Glad to see they got that in you." Daniel felt he should get an Oscar when Damon looked away in flattered thought.
"You said that we met in here. What did we do?" Daniel loosened the smile a tad, circling the only Colt in a lazy gate. He had Damon tied up, but not in the ropes. God knew how long that would take. He may be confused and hungry for answers, but he had restraint.
With restraint and preparation for betrayal came a soft spot. And the softest was those you knew before. So Daniel takes a quick swipe at Damon's head, not surprised when the upgraded individual dodges with ease. He takes another-quicker and sharper-that aims for his ear. Daniel feels his palm brush the hair of Damon's head. And with that second attempt comes an answering shove from Damon. He backs away to study the blondes face, hesitance keeping him from knowing what to do.
So Daniel raises his hands, tightening them into fists in front of him. He raises an eyebrow at Damon's shaking head.
"We did this. You up for it?" The hint of wicked temptation was impossible to leave out of his tone, a feature that could be used in a hundred different ways. Damon takes on step towards him, looking as if he didn't really believe they truly did this-that they weren't as close as the lab staff claimed. It felt alien yet the desire to mock battle with the older male practically pulled at his muscles. He had too many reasons to walk away. Even so, he charged at Cross.
XxX
Neither would be able to explain what happened-or more specifically what changed- in their spar. One moment they were exchanging hits and dodges with an almost equal amount of skill, one wrong step or pause causing one to nail the other. A rare but amusing occurrence in the long period they spent on the wrestling mat.
But then something move-snapped- and the two were no longer against one another in the sense of the word. One would grab the other, moving them fluidly around their body or stopping one impact to encourage another, or deflecting a certain movement and manipulating it into something beneficial for both parties. It was a subtle transition from two opposites clashing together in a clumsy search for something recognizable, into two countering parts turning their butting into melding.
This change in cooperation had the remainders of attendants in the gym watching in curiosity as the totally unaware partners practically danced in a manner that earned neither members attention. It was only when Daniel grew carried away, flipping Damon over his shoulder onto his feet, giving the duo time to step away from one another that the spell broke.
They had time to breathe and that time just put the awkward distance between them again. Because the competitive rush was gone-resetting Daniels bitter opinions and his targets doubt of his position in the ancient pack. Damon was as aired as he could get, his body buzzing with adrenaline and he hoped some sort of natural draw towards the other.
Daniel stared right back at him, no words exchanged as they tried to process what just happened. He didn't even try to pull the buddy card at the moment. He was too caught off guard, too disgusted with the fact he actually got along with the tan male in front of him without any complications. It had been a brief moment of team work. It was enough to make Daniel want to bare his teeth in distaste. How they had both faded into that state was concerning, their skills and style were perhaps too alike to be opponents.
Then their eye lock is done when Damon turns away, huffing a breath that leaves shakier than it should.
"This is too much for a second day." He said to himself, leaving Daniel still regaining breath in the gym as he decided to search for Doctor Swartz-dare even Rikkin. He just needed away from his partner for a moment.
It felt too right and too wrong to be around the latter at the time.
So he went to hunt for Swartz in hopes of some distance between him and his coworker would help is uncertainty.
He finds his authority figure donning over something with an assistant, the entire lab oblivious of the scarred Templar walking through the still perfect lab.
"Hey Swartz-" The aged one jumps at the sound of his experiments voice, scrabbling to nonchalantly change tabs on his laptop. He turns to the young man with a pleasant smile. "Ah, Mein Sohn- I apologize I have been busy since this morning. Did Cross treat you well?" The doctor is concerned when Damon flexes his repaired hand.
"Uh, yeah sure-kinda." The professor crosses his arms and gives the altered human an uncertain look, raising a bushy eyebrow. It seems to break Damon's' resolve. He moves in closer so that the other experts can't eavesdrop into their conversation. "None of this feels right. My room doesn't feel like mine. And something about Cross-"
"Daniel."
"Yeah I know. Something about all of this doesn't feel good." Swartz sighs, placing a hand on Damon's' arm in a soft gesture.
"You suffered a great deal of trauma, Damon. Nearly everything you knew was toyed with and altered in your mind. It is going to take time for our procedure to catch up with your personality and memories. As is . Everything you were once comfortable with will take time." Damon lowers his head as Swartz steady hand comes to up to his shoulder to squeeze it. "It is only your second day in recovery, Mein Sohn. There is no need to rush things."
Damon shrugs, following the one that woken him towards his terminal.
"So while we're on this topic, did I happen to have a girlfriend?"
"OI."
Urrrhuur cheesy ass chapter ends. What is this? Cross and Phoenix Des found relatable ground? What could this mean? Whatever you want it too. Des is gonna have his inhibitions for a while. He may have forgotten he was an Assassin but he can't remember being a Templar either. Gonna take allot of convincing. (BTW before I get too deep in this fic I'd like a beta please. I feel a need to expand my grammar and I could use the constructive criticism PM me if interested)