Thanks to Vesa290 for correcting my Italian mistakes in chapter one and two! That was great :)

And the terror itself is an example of the world's uncontrollability.
-Ulrich Beck

Desmond cried for a long time. Normally he wouldn't be caught dead like that, but rejection hurt, and his mind was so weak lately. He thought Lucy would be the answer to his problems - the dreams, the hallucinations. But even she left him, and now Desmond knew that no one cared enough about him to even be seen with him. There wasno fucking way he was getting back in that Animus, and he couldn't face any of the team knowing he'd failed them.

God I've lied, am I lost in your eyes?

Anger and sadness built up inside of Desmond, and he howled his grief to the night sky, a long, wordless cry that said everything for him. It did make him feel a little better. Enough to make him realize he was being an idiot. A big baby. Of course Lucy didn't want to get involved with him. They were co-workers, Assassins. He probably still couldn't face her, not yet, but the hurt was gone.

So he sat, brooding over his visions. Perhaps they meant something?

A clatter to his right made him look over. Lucy was climbing back up the roof. She walked over to him, but there was something... wrong about the way she moved. Dismissing it to his paranoia, Desmond watched as she got closer. She didn't stop. Straddled him, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"...Lucy?" She didn't answer, just smashed her lips to his, entangling her hands in his hair. Desmond responded, grabbing her round the waist, running a hand up her back.

Desmond opened his eyes. Lucy's cerulean pools were millimeters from his, but there was a cold glint in them, like they were made of ice. That uneasy feeling came back. Lucy's eyes shimmered and blurred. And melted.

Desmond cried out and fell back onto his elbows as Lucy's face bubbled and liquified before his eyes.

"Desssssmmonnnndddd," she gurgled, reaching toward him.

"No!" he cried, bringing his foot out from under her and smashing it into her jaw. Lucy's head snapped up, and - to his horror - her jawbone snapped off of its weakened hinges and spun through the air.

Lucy's head cracked back down, her tongue lolling with nothing to support it. She was completely unrecognizable; all her features melting away, beginning to expose muscle, bone. She reached toward him. Desmond scrabbled backwards over the loose shingles. Those blue eyes shone brighter and brighter, lighting up Lucy's body with an unnatural cerulean glow.

"Get away from me!" Desmond screamed, feeling himself losing control.

Lucy stood, still glowing. She raised her arms beside her and leaned her head back. Desmond could see her brain through her disintegrating face and snapped-off jaw.

So take me and make me weak
And then save me

"NO!" he roared again, lurching to his feet. Whipping out his blade, he rushed forward, puncturing Lucy's stomach.

It was like popping a balloon. A balloon filled with guts and blood and flesh. The light exploded, taking Lucy with it, instantly coating Desmond in blood, gore, and chips of bone.

Desmond sank to his knees, sobbing, coated in blood. He'd killed her. Again...

This hate that you gave me
Keeps saying the same thing

And suddenly, it clicked. "This isn't real," Desmond muttered. "It's not real," he repeated, louder. "You're not real!" he screamed at the blood, the gore. Instantly, it vanished, leaving Desmond staring at his clean hands, his shining silver blade. It reflected his brown eye back at him. It was crazed, wide, frightened. Tears ran down his cheeks.

"What is wrong with me?" Desmond whispered again. That was the one question he wanted - needed - answered. But if there was an answer, it didn't make itself clear.

He was having trouble distinguishing reality from his visions. Did he and Lucy kiss? Was she even on the roof that first time? Was he even on the roof, or was he imagining that too?

One way to find out. Desmond lurched to his feet and stumbled to the edge of the roof, not really caring if he fell. But he didn't, and managed to climb his way down to the Sanctuary.

Upon arriving in the small room, no one acknowledged him. No one so much as glanced up to see who had walked in. Just another reason for Desmond to hurt, to feel like no one wanted him, no one cared about him.

To sing when you're hurting

Taking a deep breath, Desmond walked to where Lucy was sitting. She looked up at him, smiled thinly - forced - and then trained her gaze back to the computer. Acting like nothing had happened. Which maybe it hadn't; Desmond wouldn't know until he asked.

"You... you came up on the roof, right?" he asked softly.

He could practically hear her frown in confusion. "Yes," she answered simply, still not looking at him.

"Just once, right?"

This time she looked up, granting him a confused stare before she glanced down again. "Just once."

"And..." Desmond stopped, nervous, but then mentally kicked himself and continued, needing to know the truth. "We kissed?"

Lucy sighed, clicking the "x" on whatever program she was on, and spun towards him. "Listen, that was just a..." She searched for the right word. "An impulse. I was acting on the moment. I'm sorry, but we're dealing with too much right now to even think about relationships. Just... try and move on."

To sing when you cry

For some reason, that made him feel embarrassed. She made it sound like he was some lonely, love-crazed idiot who couldn't live without her. All he'd asked was if they kissed; he didn't want to know the reason why, or what happened after. He'd wanted to know what was real or not.

Desmond turned and walked away stiffly, lowering himself down into the Animus, not caring about his dreams or visions. The only thing on his mind was hoping Rebecca or Shaun hadn't heard their exchange, or were talking about it now. Laughing at him.