Something hits him square in the stomach, and Desmond comes awake. He crosses from blackness and back to consciousness instantly, and for a second he's confused. Wherever he is, it's still dark. Then something hits him again and Desmond hears the thud of a wheel hitting a pothole and realizes he's in the trunk of a car. And not an empty trunk, either. He can feel bits of junk rolling around him with every movement of the car- a half gallon of soda next to his foot, an flattened tissue box under his shoulder, something sticky that smells behind his head.
He reaches forward and his fingers close around what feels like a hammer. If he lets go it'll just hit him again, and besides, he doesn't know where he is or who the car belongs to. It's sort of possible he might need a weapon.
He's not in much position to fight, though. There's barely a square inch of his body that doesn't feel bruised. His left leg is probably broken, and the fingers on his right hand- the one not holding the hammer- sends waves of pain up his arm every time he tries to move them. One eye is swollen shut, and Desmond can taste blood in his mouth. He can smell blood too, and when he tries to shift himself away from the smelly thing just behind his head, he can feel that his shirt is stuck to his back thanks to the dried blood from a dozen cuts.
The car stops suddenly and Desmond tenses, ready for the trunk to open, for something to happen, but after a few seconds the car moves forward again, and he relaxes. As much as he can. Probably just a stoplight.
He's afraid, more afraid even then he was when Abstergo kidnapped him the first time. This time he has a pretty good idea what's waiting for him on the other side of this car ride. He's served his purpose, and Vidic had never been shy with about making threats. Probably the only thing waiting for him outside this trunk was a bullet to the brain and a shallow grave.
The car stops again, and this time the engine turns off. Desmond lifts himself up on one elbow, so he'll be in a better position to swing the hammer when the trunk door opens. There are footsteps coming around the side of the car, and Desmond wastes a few seconds wishing he was anywhere other than here. That he'd never been kidnapped, and still thought the templars were nothing worse than a conspiracy made up by his paranoid parents.
That he had something better than a hammer in his hand.
The trunk finally opens, and at that exact moment, Desmond leans on his fingers wrong, and a fresh bolt of pain sends him crashing back down. He tries to struggle back up, but before he can there's a hand on his shoulder, gently holding him down. "Stay there," says a voice, and he knows that voice, it's Lucy's voice, but what is she doing here? "I'm going to get someone to help."
The only answer he can manage is a kind of mumbled agreement, but it's either enough or she's just not listening, because she hurries away. Desmond waits in the trunk, hating himself for his helplessness, and wishing she would hurry back. It smells like something's dying in the trunk, and he has a bad feeling that it might be him.
The whole time he's waiting, he can't quite shake the feeling that someone's watching him. There's someone watching him, from behind, just where he can't see.