"Altair?"
"Malik." He's sitting at his desk, head buried in his hands, in relative privacy. Relative, because he knows perfectly well that Malik's going to let himself in whenever he wants, and never mind what Altair has to say about it.
"You look terrible," Malik says. "Do you even know how long you've been in here?"
"I lost track," says Altair. It's surprisingly easy to do when time stops running in a straight line. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to ask you why no one's seen you in a week," Malik says. "I'd started to think you decided to abandon us for the future."
"If you know it's been a week, why did you ask?" Altair snaps.
Malik doesn't answer. For nearly a full minute he says nothing, but he doesn't leave, either. Finally, Altair looks up. Malik's still standing there, in the door, an absolutely unreadable expression on his face. "You need a break," he says at last.
"I don't have time for one," he says. "You know how much I have to take care of here. And it's no better-" he jerks his head in a random direction to indicate the future. "Over there."
"Everyone has problems," Malik says. "Yours are just a little..." his eyes wander down to Altair's hands, where dim golden lines have started to appear. "Different. It doesn't matter. I'm telling you that you need rest."
"No," says Altair. He looks down at his hands. "I don't have time."
"Fine," Malik says, and crosses the room. "Let me help. Two people working on a problem, we solve it in less time. What can I do?"
"I don't know," Altair admits. "I don't know what I'm supposed to do here. But I think I'm going to get it wrong."
"So?" Malik snorts. "No one's perfect, Altair. Especially not you. And if you need me to remind you of that every once and a while, I will be more than happy to do that. You don't have to get everything right the first time."
"You don't understand," Altair says. "I need to get this right, because someday-" He hesitates, but manages to keep going. "Because someday, there's going to be a young assassin with no family and nothing to live for but revenge. And he's going to look up to me and before you say anything-" Malik's mouth is already opening. "Yes, I know I'm not some kind of hero but that's what time does. A few hundred years ago all of us will be nothing but dust and legend. But people believe those legends."
"Are you talking about Desmond?" Malik asks.
"Another assassin," says Altair. "Ezio."
"Who?" Malik shakes his head. "Altair, I'm going to help you. But I'm starting to feel like I'm a little behind on the story." He glares. "Maybe if you'd talked to me- or to anyone- in the past few weeks-"
"Fine," Altair says. "I'm sorry. Is that what you wanted to hear?"
"Yes." Malik smiles. "Now tell me your story. Your legend."
"You're not going to let me forget that one, are you?"
"Not for a while."
So Altair tells him the story.