That's it, the apple says abruptly.

There's something in the way it says the words that sends chills up Connor's spine. "What do you mean?" he asks aloud.

You could have killed him and gone home, the apple says. You didn't. Your chance is gone.

And just like that, the apple floods through his mind again, and it's—it's horrible, horrible, because Connor can feel himself crumble and give way, he's opening himself up to the apple because now he knows he's okay, he knows the apple is going to take care of him, that's what the apple has always done (hasn't it? He's still here, isn't he?)

"Connor?" William says. "Are you alright? You look… odd."

But he doesn't matter, Connor can see that now. William Miles had never mattered, except as a test for him. To see if he would do without as much direct control. (And he's failed, hasn't he? He hadn't done what the apple wanted. Sinking slowly into a cloud of apple fueled peace, all Connor can do is beg the apple to forgive him, for failing to do as it asked.

He kicks William aside so hard it sends the other man rocketing back, into a wall. Calls for a guard, and waits there until the man does as he's told, and lets him out.

"Traitor," William hisses.

This amuses the apple, and it twists Connor's face up into the kind of smile that normal people just don't make. Too big. Too many teeth. "You can't be a traitor if you're only loyal to yourself," it says. "Maybe you would understand that, if you weren't so damnably human."

And then it goes—they go—because there's another apple nearby. Something that needs to be taken care of, immediately, because there is exactly one thing in the world that might be a danger to the apple, and this is it. For the first time in two centuries, Connor feels genuine fear coming from the apple.

-/-

Desmond sits cross legged on his bed, studying the apple where it sits on his lap. The others are purposefully keeping busy in other areas of their safehouse, well away from the apple and it's unpredictable effects.

"So why aren't you evil?" Desmond murmurs. He feels a little bit stupid, talking to an inanimate object. But that's not all it is, is it? If this thing is anything at all like the one that's kept Connor enslaved for all these years, it has a mind of its own. "You're letting me help my friends, and I'm grateful, I am. But… I want to know why."

The apple's voice in his head, when it comes, is simultaneously a shock and one of the most natural things he's ever felt.

There are evil humans, aren't there? It asks. And there are good ones?

"I… sure," Desmond says. "Yea."

You're not unique in that, the apple says.

"Okay," Desmond says. "Okay, okay, um…" He turns the apple over and over in his hands, nervous beyond belief. He can't get past the feeling that on some level, he's making a deal with the devil. But what other choice does he have, and anyway, it has helped him so far.

You want your friend back, the apple says.

"And I want to make sure that the apple inside him doesn't do the same to anyone else," Desmond says quickly.

Of course. I will help you do that.

"Why?" Desmond asks. "I just—tell me why. I need to know if I can trust you."

Because the things that are happening are wrong, the apple says.

Desmond sighs. It's not really a great explanation, but they're running out of time. "Alright," he says. "Yea, okay. Let's get started, I guess."

He closes his eyes, and tries to focus on the power inside the apple on counteracting the thing inside Connor. The other apple. The harder Desmond concentrates on it, the more he can sort of feel Connor (or the apple inside him), coming closer…

Desmond is sweating a little. There's a lot of pressure on this moment, and he's not… he's not good enough for this. What is he, after all? Just a terrified, half human mutt, who has lived his entire life in fear of someone finding out what he is. How is he supposed to save anyone at all?

"Hey," a soft voice says, and Desmond's heart starts racing when he recognizes Lucy's scent. She puts her hand on his shoulder. "You okay? You look… I don't know. Upset."

"I can't do this," Desmond says. "I'm not good enough, I can't…"

Lucy hesitates. Then she sits down next to him. Desmond can feel her warmth at his side, even with his eyes tightly shut. "Look," she says. "I can't imagine anyone better to do this, okay?" She hesitates, just a bit, and then leans over and kisses him on the cheek. Desmond's eyes snap open, and he turns sharply to look at Lucy, only an inch or two away.

"Did you mean to do that?" he asks. "I mean… was that on purpose?"

She's smiling at him. And not like she's laughing at him, like she's just… happy. Because of him. "Yes, Desmond," she says. "It was on purpose."

Desmond flushes a bright red. "Oh," he says. "I… thank you, Lucy."

She reaches out, and takes his hand. Desmond closes his eyes, and this time it's a little easier to focus. And when Ratonhnhaké:ton sits down on his other side, and his father and Connor's join them nearby, silent but present, Desmond feels strong enough for anything he has to do. So he pushes past his hesitation, and lets the apple loose.

I need strength, the apple whispers in his head.

"What does that mean?" Desmond whispers back.

The apple flashes an image into his head, an explanation delivered in a moment. But Desmond hesitates, lingering over his decision for a very long time. Then he nods. "Yea," he says. "Okay."

-/-

Altair has an apple of Eden.

He's had it for many years now, and he's spent much of his adult life puzzling his way through the oddities of how it works. He prides himself on thinking that he knows as much about the apple than any other human alive. So he recognizes when the apple is trying to manipulate him, when it is willing to help him, and when it is too much for him to handle, just at the moment.

Right now, the apple is calling to him, and it is calling for help. Altair studies it at a distance, on guard against some sort of trick. Then, after a good long moment spent carefully studying the apple from every conceivable angle, Altair picks it up. Waits a moment, as the apple tells him what it wants.

His eyebrows creep upwards, in an involuntary expression of surprise. Then, without so much as a moment's hesitation, he settles himself at his desk and focuses in on the apple. It flares to life, glowing with a dull, golden light. Altair closes his eyes, and concentrates on what the apple wants from him. Just this once, he has no reservations about helping the apple do what it wants him to do. He takes the power of the apple, and sends it forward, over an ocean, across a continent, through time itself, until it reaches an odd looking young man from the future, who is trying to do some good.

-/-

Ezio has an apple of Eden.

Sometimes it feels like he's spent his whole adult life chasing it, and now that he has it in his hands, all he feels is a bone deep exhaustion. Is this bauble really worth all the trouble it's caused? Can anyone really use this thing to do any kind of good?

The apple suddenly begins to pulse dully in his hand, and Ezio eyes it warily. He's not sure what it wants or why, but…

But…

Somehow, impossibly, it speaks to him. Suddenly Ezio does know what the apple wants with him, and he can't say he's reluctant to give it the help it's asking for. Or… it's not the apple that's asking, really, it's this Desmond, maybe even the same Desmond that Ezio had once heard of, in the precursor passage under the Vatican. Ezio closes his eyes, and lends what strength he can to the apple, and through it, to Desmond.

-/-

Desmond has an apple of Eden.

Which is great, probably, because they need this apple to get inside the Great Temple in New York and stop the sun from burning the Earth to a crisp or something, but honestly Desmond hates having the damn thing around. It whispers to him, sometimes, and there are already enough voices in his head thanks to the animus, he really doesn't need any more.

But this voice is different, because this voice is his. Sort of. Almost. It—well, Desmond has always had a little bit of trouble wrapping his head around the idea of alternate universes, but when he holds the apple now and closes his eyes, the image he has is of himself, only that version of him has ears like a wolf and a lean, hungry look to him. Both Desmonds stare at each other for a long moment, apparently equally surprised by each other.

Then the other Desmond gives a bark of laughter (and it really does sound like a bark, there's something undeniably canine about it) and somehow, through the vision, speaks. "You're human," he says. "That's crazy."

"Sorry," Desmond say. "I'm the crazy one?"

"Fair," the other Desmond says. "That's fair."

Silence. Mostly silence, anyway, because Desmond can still hear the apple whispering in his mind, and he's sort of getting an idea of what it wants him to do. He nods. Desmond still has some serious doubts about whether or not he's going to be able to stop the world from ending, but he can at least do this. So he sends his strength into the apple, toward his other self, and silently wishes him the best.

-/-

"Did you know there's a version of me that's completely human?" Desmond asks, without opening his eyes. "It's weird."

"I can't picture you with tiny ears," Lucy says.

"Neither can I," Desmond admits. "It's not always great, being part wolf. But it's who I am." He grins. He can still feel them, all those other assassins from the past (and, in the case of that other Desmond, from Connor's world). For the moment at least, their strength is his strength, and he's not going to let that go to waste.

"He's here!" Cross shouts suddenly, and Desmond's eyes snap open just in time to see Cross turn toward him, looking terrified for the first time since Desmond's met him. "The King!"

"He's no King," Haytham says—Connor's father, not Ratonhnhaké:ton's. Cross can't even hear him, and Desmond isn't sure at first who Haytham is talking to. Then he realizes Haytham is more than likely trying to reassure himself. "He is my son. And it's time we ended this."

And then Connor is on them, he's just suddenly in the room, practically oozing with an unnatural, golden glow. Desmond gets slowly to his feet, until he and Connor are facing one another from opposite sides of the room. Desmond with an apple in his hand, Connor with an apple in his head. Everyone else has scattered to the edges of the scene, and Desmond doesn't blame them at all. For good or for bad, this was always going to come down to him and Connor and nobody else.

"Drop it," Connor says. His voice has an odd echo to it, and it seems to vibrate inside Desmond's chest, even standing all the way across the room.

"No," Desmond says. "Shut up, just—I'm sick of you using my friend to do all these terrible things. You think you're the King, you think you're some kind of terrible dictator, but you're just a fucking coward."

"You think I'm afraid of you?" Connor (the apple inside Connor) demands. "Or the trinket you carry?"

"No," Desmond says. "I don't think you're scared of me, but I think you're terrified of something. You've spent centuries building up your own power, killing anyone that threatens you or even questions you. A brave man wouldn't rule the way you do. A brave man wouldn't be afraid to be good."

"Empty words," the apple scoffs.

Desmond shrugs. "I've never been very good at speeches. But I kind of ramble when I'm nervous, and I have… definitely never done anything like this before." He pauses, and takes a deep breath. "Anyway, there's only one thing I really wanted to say."

"Oh yes?" the apple says. It sounds almost mocking, a disturbingly cruel noise, from Connor's mouth.

"Yea," Desmond says. And he looks into Connor's eyes, trying to see past the shadow of the apple, all the way through to wherever Connor is inside his own head. But there's nothing to see, not with the apple raging at him like this. Desmond soldiers on anyway. "Connor," he says. "I know you're in there. And I know you're fighting back. Just keep fighting a little bit longer, okay? We're coming to help you."

And without another word of warning, Desmond lets loose with all the power of his apple, and all those that have had their own apples in the past. It explodes outward, headed straight for Connor, and there's nothing left for Desmond to do but pray that somehow, this is all going to work out.

-/-

Connor screams as every part of his body is suddenly set on fire. For a moment, it's nothing but sheer, excruciating pain. It feels like he's being ripped in two and there is nothing but pain, burning not his body but his mind, his soul.

And then, suddenly, a moment of clarity. It's like there's a tipping point in his head, a point where Connor realizes he's not being torn in two at all. It's the apple, being pulled away. He takes a breath, and then another one, and pushes, fighting to get the apple out.

And then it's gone. Connor falls to his knees so hard it hurts, and stares up through bleary, tired eyes, at the swirling golden light hovering in the air above him. The apple, or its influence on his mind, pulled out of him. Connor sways and shakes, looking at it, but before he can fall he feels a solid hand on his shoulder, holding him up. He turns around, and sees his father standing there. Connor flinches, expecting anger, but his father only smiles at him. There's a hint of pride to the expression. "You came back to us," he says. "Well done."

Connor shakes his head. He hasn't done well, he's spent two centuries visiting every cruelty the apple could think of on generations worth of people.

"Desmond," Connor's father says. "The apple, can you—"

But he doesn't even get a chance to finish before the golden light that has been swirling near Connor's head just implodes. There's a quiet thud, like a muffled explosion, and the light winks out.

Connor buries his face in his hands, blocking out the world, blocking out the memories and guilt trampling through his mind. The things he's done—it doesn't matter if it was him in control or the apple, because those are the kind of things that can't be taken back. Not ever.

"It's alright," his father says, even though it's not. "The apple is gone."

"Why are you doing this?" Connor whispers. "Helping me—being kind? I don't deserve any of it, I never will—"

"Connor!"

"I can't stand it," Connor interrupts. "I keep remembering more things that I've done and it's too much."

"You're strong," his father says, and although he tries to keep his voice steady, Connor thinks he can hear a hint of nervousness there. "You will recover."

"Why are you doing this?" Connor demands. "Why are you saying these things, why are you trying to help?"

"I've been on my own a long time," his father says. "And I've had a lot of time to think over my mistakes." He glances away from Connor, and his gaze flicks just for a moment to the other side of the room. Connor follows his gaze, and sees Ratonhnhaké:ton and the other Haytham standing there, more or less together. "It's a long ways too late," Haytham says. "But I want to be here for you now."

Desmond crouches at Connor's side. He's holding an apple, and although Connor flinches sharply away from it, he doesn't really think it's the same as the one that had been in his head for so long. He knows exactly what that one had felt like, and this one somehow doesn't seem as… angry.

"Connor," Desmond says. "I think I know how to help you." He looks over at Haytham. "Both of you, really."

"How?" Connor asks dully. "The apple used to offer to help me too, used to tell me it could send me home, wipe my memories, make it like I'd never done the things I've done here. But I knew it didn't matter. Whatever happens, I'll still be broken. And deep down, I'll know it."

"It's hard," Desmond says. "But just hear me out, okay? I have a good idea, I promise."

"What is it?"

Desmond can't quite hide his smile. "A second chance."

He explains his idea in more detail, and as Connor listens, he starts to feel something almost electric jumping around inside his chest. He doesn't trust the feeling of hope that clutches at him now, but it's there nonetheless. Despite everything that's happened, it just doesn't seem to want to go away.

-/-

Only one chapter left. (Then a sequel, because... I have plans for what happens to certain characters after this. Can't go into too much detail without spoiling what's going to happen with Connor, but... idk, I think it might be fun)