A/N: Whew, this update is coming fast! I'm super excited to write this story because oh my gosh I have so much inspiration for this story. It's kinda of... a twisted humor that's somewhat light hearted in an odd way. I kinda want to dig deeper into this story, though it will be somewhat short. Maybe under eight chapters? Hmm, not quite sure yet. Many thanks to Googleit6 who Beta'd it for me - and even reenactments with me had to be done to make this work. Trust me, a lot of work went into editing this piece of work I'm extremely proud of. Anyways, enjoy! (: Leave a review, they always compel me to write faster!

Chapter One, The Bird Cage

His stomach twisted and turned as if a rope had tightened dangerously around his neck – cutting off all air supply, his lungs gasping for the air he was desperately running out of.

But of course, he did not have a rope around his neck and he certainly wasn't physically lacking any oxygen. But he was breathless at the fact that he woke to the sweet good morning of a shiny, silver gun.

"Shaun." It was the only word to come out of his already dry as a desert mouth. Slowly, his vision returned to him after his peaceful slumber. He had dreamed happily for once – it was even a true dream, not the Bleeding Effect or anything of the sorts that a test subject might have experienced. It was what any normal person could dream in a normal night. Desmond had dreamed that he was a bird – more precisely, an eagle – soaring high above New York as he flew freely, stopping whenever he felt like it. He had no one chasing him, no one watching his every move. In his dream, he was as free as a bird. Literally.

Suddenly, his dream had taken a turn for the worse. The eagle was now caged in a tight space, tossed into the bright blue ocean and left to die.

"Desmond," the British voice replied mockingly, and Desmond looked up to see his smug smile. This had to be a dream, or in more correct terms, a nightmare. This couldn't be real. Asphyxiated, he could feel himself being pulled further and further down into the deep murky waters, unable to see the surface light above him that he desperately tried to cling onto. "Sit up."

Moving at a slow pace, he tentatively brought his legs over the side of the bed, unable to tear his gaze away from the pistol in front of him. He felt his stomach lurch as he looked back up at the supposedly thought Assassin and Shaun smiled maliciously at him. Just as Desmond opened his mouth and attempted to speak, something hard struck him across the face. He instantly tasted the tangy copper of his own blood on the tip of his silenced tongue as his eyes were now suddenly looking down at the floor, knees and palms against the cold hardwood.

"Too slow, Desmond. Come on, if you want to keep your life a little longer, I suggest you pick up the pace."

He couldn't believe his own senses. That couldn't be blood he tasted. He couldn't be hearing the voice of Shaun Hastings. He couldn't be so close to the ground, as just moments ago, he was blissfully flying so high above it. No, it was impossible. Shaun Hastings was a good guy – he wasn't supposed to be alongside Vidic or those Templar bastards. Hell would freeze over before that happened. He looked back up at him, only to have the front of his shirt grabbed, then yanked up onto the bed by the muscle Desmond didn't think Shaun had. His hands were freezing cold. Hell must have been coated in a thick sheet of ice that morning.

"How could you?" He could hear the fear in his own voice, as much as he tried to control it. Desmond only watched as Shaun began to laugh, a gun pointed at the middle of Desmond's forehead.

"It was all quite easy, though it did take me seven whole years to finally come to this single moment. Seven whole years of-" Trying to catch him off guard, Desmond lashed out and grabbed Shaun's wrist to make him drop the gun. Attempting to twist it painfully for the release, he failed as the Templar grabbed his elbow, spun him around and pressed his face into the bed, twisting his arm around his back. Desmond grunted in pain as he felt Shaun pin him down, smothering the novice's face into the ruffled sheets as he held him in place. "Oh Desmond, did you just try to pull a fast one on me?" His laugh sent chills down Desmond's spine, just the way his simplest touch used to.

"That's not going to work against me," Shaun informed him, as Desmond's heart stopped momentarily while he felt the cold barrel of the gun against the back of his head.

"Huh. I'm surprised how easily you gave in. Coward," he sneered, lips tightening in a malignant smirk. "Are you perhaps too afraid to fight for the lives of Rebecca and Lucy?"

Desmond tensed as he snapped his head up, immediately searching for the women. Without missing a beat, his face was again forced roughly back into the sheets.

"Ah, ah, ah. Did I say you could take a look around?" Shaun was surprised when he didn't find the Assassin trembling beneath him. Desmond felt the gun being pressed harder against the back of his skull. "You have to ask like a good little boy, Desmond."

Desmond groaned, gasping in pain when Shaun abruptly jerked his arm the wrong way. It felt like it was on the verge of snapping in half like a toothpick. He knew it wouldn't take Shaun much more to completely fracture or dislocate something.

"Where are they?" He felt tears forming in his eyes as Shaun bent his arm a little further.

"Ask nicer, Desmond, dearest."

"Shaun... tell me where the fuck they- Ah!" They both heard a loud popping noise as Shaun finally let go of Desmond's dislocated shoulder. Smirking in self satisfaction, Shaun sat on the edge of the bed, still pointing the gun at Desmond. There was no was that he was going to drop his guard for even the faintest second, in assuming that Desmond would attempt to overthrow him.

"Hmm, I changed my mind. I'll just let you see them swimming in their own pools of blood," he laughed eerily, causing goose bumps to rise on the back of Desmond's neck as he pictured the both of the girls sprawled out on the floor, the walls painted with their inner organs and blood. The thought caused a cold sweat as he slowly sat up, watching the gun in his peripheral vision follow his every move.

"Don't you dare touch them, you miserable bastard!" Desmond shouted, bunching his fists. What good would a quick punch do against a bullet that would kill him before he even raised his arm?

"Oh, I won't be touching them. You see, while you were sleeping, I disabled all the security gates which meant anyone could get in. Isn't it just a big co-inky dink that a team of Templars managed to get in and ambush Rebecca and Lucy in their sleep?" Shaun's agonizingly playful tone made Desmond want to scream.

"No!" Desmond growled, a steep hatred building for the killer in front of him. "You sick-"

"Oh shut up for one moment, Desmond," he cocked the gun with his other hand and Desmond's lips suddenly froze in place. "They're not dead yet."

"I can't believe you would – wait. What?" Desmond gritted his teeth, hissing as he felt a sudden spark of pain up his shoulder.

"They're not dead, Desmond. If my men followed my orders, both should still be very much alive," Shaun slipped off the bed, never taking his eyes off the Assassin in front of him. "Hey! Get your asses in here, now!" He shouted loudly, adjusting his crooked glasses with a free hand. Lying on his back upside down, head hanging over the edge of the bed, Desmond watched the hallway eagerly, the glass panes in front of him reflecting the break of dawn from the windows behind him.

"Desmond!"

"Let go of me!"

Desmond heard the two women shout, kick and scream as both of the Assassins were brought in. Sighing with relief, Desmond watched as both of them were shoved into the middle of the room, completely in one piece. Two well built Templars stood behind them and shoved them onto their knees, hands behind their heads. As he tried to get up, he once again felt the immense agony in his shoulder and even if he did make a movement towards them, Shaun would have shot him before he so much even lifted his first foot.

"Desmond!" Lucy cried out, tears streaming down her bright red cheeks. Rebecca's face was stone cold as she looked up at Shaun, sending all the negative vibes she could muster towards someone who she believed to have been a friend.

"Lucy, I'll save-" Once again, he was struck across the face with the cold, metal weapon. He tasted more blood leaking through his teeth as Shaun laughed like a hyena that had just cornered its prey.

"Are you sure you should go around making promises like that again, Desmond? After all, you did a pretty shitty job of protecting her the first time."

Blinded by rage, Desmond coiled back his fist and released it directly at Shaun's head. Before he could land a hit, Shaun grabbed his fist with his free hand and immediately, six other guns were pointed directly at Desmond.

"And I thought you were the strategically intelligent one. I guess you're becoming a bit too much like Ezio in the younger days, hm?"

"I'll kill you!" He shouted furiously, suddenly picking up his injured arm and tossing a pathetic punch which Shaun countered with ease. Before he knew it, Desmond felt Shaun's muscular leg sweep his own out from underneath him and he landed on the bed once again, on his back. All of a sudden, Shaun had shoved the gun in his back pocket and managed to pin Desmond down, trapping both his hands over his head and dug his knees sharply into Desmond's thighs, earning a cry of discomfort from the now trapped Assassin. Shaun's glasses began to slowly slip down the bridge of his nose as he stared directly into Desmond's eyes, amused at the fact what he met was pure fear. Desmond could feel the Templar henchmen staring at them, exchanging puzzled looks with each other, but not dare to lower their guard against the women. If they lost to them – they knew what fate laid for them beyond the doors of the stronghold.

"Come on Desmond. Try to kill me now," he laughed. "Where's all that strength you earned from your ancestors? Come on, Desmond. Put up a good fight," Shaun chided, each insult digging further into Desmond's already bruised skin.

Lucy watched as the snake pinned down the eagle, waiting for the right minute to strike with its fatal, venomous bite. The fight seemed to have drained out of the eagle.

The Templar sighed heavily. "Oh dear. The candle on your cupcake has been blown out, Desmond. This party's over."

A/N: *puts on black sunglasses* YEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH!