He's crying when he comes out of the animus, actually crying. He can feel the tears on his face, and there's a roughness in his throat that shows when he tries to swallow. He's not sure if they're his tears, panicking as he felt himself running out of air, or the baby's tears bleeding through. Either way, he can feel his face turning red, and he tries not to be obvious about it as he wipes his face. Lucy turns pointedly away, pretending like she doesn't notice, and he's absurdly grateful.
"How was it?" Rebecca asks, after he's collected himself.
"Weird," Desmond says. "I don't think I've ever thought about what it feels like to be born, but that wasn't what I was expecting." His voice sounds like he's been crying, but no one says anything, so he goes on. "That was-" he shakes his head. "That's the weirdest thing I've ever done."
"Well, congratulations on being probably the only human ever to remember being born," Shaun says, and Desmond makes a face.
"I think that's an honor I'd rather pass on," he says. "Who was that kid, anyway?"
"Ezio Auditore da Firenze," Lucy says.
"Kind of a mouthful," says Desmond. "Why did I just have to see his memories of getting born?"
"Because your sync rate with him is terrible," Shaun says.
"Thank you, Shaun," Lucy says loudly. "But... well, he's right, actually." She glares at him. "You just didn't have to say it like that."
"Hey, Lucy." Desmond manages a weak smile. "Just because I was born this morning doesn't mean I can't take an insult."
"That's not funny," Lucy says.
"It's a little funny," says Shaun.
"Now you're on his side." Lucy rolls her eyes. "Anyway, Desmond, here's what's going on. We need to go through some later memories of Ezio's, but like Shaun said, your sync rate is low. This is as close as we could get."
"So I have to work my way up to... whenever these important memories are?" Desmond asks.
"Sorry," says Lucy. "It's the best we can do."
"It's fine," Desmond says. "I'll deal with it. I- shit!" He flinches back, throwing a hand over his face as a blinding golden light abruptly fills the apartment. He squints into it and for a second he can see Altair in the light, burning with light, and then everything is back to normal and Desmond can feel the pressure of someone else in his mind.
"Desmond?" Lucy asks. "You okay?"
"Y-yea," says Desmond. "I just- having a weird day."
"And let's break for breakfast," Rebecca suggests. They split off and Desmond tries to get up. "Don't worry about it," Rebecca calls, already pulling coffee out of a bag. "You don't know where anything is. We'll put you on cleanup duty later."
Desmond nods, because he's more interested in what's going on inside his head than what's going on around him. As soon as no one's paying him any attention he closes his eyes and thinks, "What's going on?" as loudly as he can.
There's no direct answer, but a second later Desmond's in the middle of an onslaught of memories, ones he can only guess are what happened to Altair during the time he spent in the animus. He watches an entire day go past, and he's busy trying to figure out how that works when he gets to the part where Altair seems to become an apple.
"So you're not having a great day either," he says. He thinks it, really, and right away feels dumb.
"No." Altair's voice inside his head sounds more distant than he's used to hearing it inside the animus, but at least he can hear him at all. Desmond feels a little less stupid.
"So did you do that on purpose?" Desmond asks. Seeing memories like this is different from seeing them in the animus. He's seeing events from the outside, instead of trying to sync with them. "Or..."
"No," Altair says again. "I don't know why I left, or how I came back."
He sounds frustrated, and Desmond says, "I'm sorry," because he knows Altair must have more important worries than him, and better things to do than tag along inside his head, or follow him around.
"Hey Desmond!" Rebecca calls. "Food's ready."
"Alright," he says, and limps over to the rest of the group.
He doesn't hear anything more from Altair, but as he's sitting down for breakfast, he feels a mess of emotions go tearing through his head- Altair's hesitation, because he really does have important hings to do in Masyaf, and he doesn't know who else will do them for him. His worry, because he wants to control whatever's going on with them, and he can't. But nowhere does he feel anger directed toward him. And just like that, his day gets a little bit better. If he has to share a body with his ancestor, maybe they can at least get along with each other.