So... I couldn't use my pc for a while... and unemployed as I am I was bored af and kind of wrote 30 pages of this fic on paper over the days (and nights) and I can now transfer them to my pc and my finger STILL hurts like hell and my eyes hurt, too because HOLY HELL did I write some crap there... so... many... errors

Warning for torture, graphic violence and all that stuff

Anyway, Merry belated Christmas dear readers and enjoy!

It had been days since they started their search for Desmond. The blond woman, Lucy, had used a strange device to communicate with what seemed to be another group of Assassins. They had sent a few Assassins to the Auditore Villa, probably to help speed up the search. They were not sure if he really had been taken by the Templars again. And they could not act before they were.

"This is stupid. How are we going to find Dezmund if we only sit here and do nothing." Ezio complained from his position on a chair next to Altair. They had taken a seat away from the rest of the group. They could not communicate with them anyway. It was a problem. If the crew had new information about Desmond, they wouldn't know. And Ezio was right. They were doing nothing than sit here and wait for those novice Assassins to finally find some clues to the boy's whereabouts.

Altair thought back to a few days ago when they had been trying on those strange clothes. It were the clothes of that man with the glasses. One moment their fledgling was laughing in such a carefree way but a moment later, while the Italian idiot was still more concerned with his looks, Altair had noticed the shift in atmosphere between the two youngest men. He had a feeling that they often used to argue with each other but the way the expression on Desmond's face changed to one of horror made the two Master Assassins react quickly. Ezio had apparently not been as absorbed in his whining as the Syrian had first thought as he was the first to grab onto the young man to hold him back when he started yelling and fighting against the hold in rage.

They didn't understand what had happened at first. But then their descendant had suddenly switched to Arabic and it made sense all of a sudden. The confession that had been suddenly revealed did not come as a shock to them. They had known from the boy's shy and awkward behavior. How he looked at them. How he spoke to them. Everything gave it away bit by bit.

Just like Desmond had got to know them through the Animus, they got to know Desmond very well throughout their lives. Not only had they felt his presence but his emotions. They knew when he was angry. When he was sad. At the beginning the presence had been an intruder for them. It annoyed them. Confused them. Even scared them at first. But they got used to it. Learned that it meant no harm. They're not sure he knew but he saved them. So many times. He helped Altair grow up, to see his mistakes. Desmond had gotten angry when he was about to do something stupid again in his arrogance and the Syrian listened. More often than not had he let himself be led by that presence. His own guardian.

When Al Mualim had betrayed him, he felt lost. That man had been like his father and he had to kill him with his own hands. But Desmond had been there. His mere presence was comfort enough. Desmond had been sad for him and that was all it took for Altair to stand back up and look forward, if only to get rid of the sadness this presence emitted that made his own heart bleed. And he realized just how important this presence had become to him. He adored it. He wanted to know more about it. What was it. Who was it. Why was it there. But then it had suddenly vanished. It was not like before. Before, it left occasionally but it always returned. But a while after Al Mualim's death it was gone.

And he had felt his world crumble.

For the first time in a long while had he felt panic. He felt like a child who's parents suddenly left him all alone. His heart ached every time he had thought about his little guardian only to be reminded that it was not there anymore and he couldn't take it much longer. He did not want to be without it. He couldn't. So he did the only thing he could think of that might give him the answers he sought.

He used the Apple.

"The Apple..." the Syrian started, whispering mostly to himself after hours of staying silent. He had been brooding on what they could do all this time. Why had he not thought about this sooner? Ezio only looked at him, puzzled. "We can try using the Apple to find Dezmund's location." he explained but Ezio's puzzled expression did not change.

"How should we do that?"

Altair sighed inwardly. "Come with me."

They had talked much since they came to this time. They did not exactly get along but they'd at least managed to behave when in Desmond's presence. The first thing that annoyed him was how flashy that man's clothes seemed to be. How do you blend in with these? They also looked like they made moving freely a challenge. Or were those clothes not unusual in his time?

He knew Ezio had lost many things just like himself. He could see it in his eyes. He could also see the way they followed their descendant the same way his own did. It calmed him to know that he could trust him with Desmond at least, knowing that he was just as serious as himself. But he did not like the idea of sharing Desmond with him regardless.

They made their way upstairs and into Desmond's bedroom. The boy ran outside without taking anything with him so the Apple should still be here. The two Master Assassins scanned the room until Ezio's voice made him shift his attention to the Italian who was pointing at a black backpack. It was open and there was a faint light emitting from the bag. The Apple.

"It's glowing..." the Italian pointed out quite pointlessly. "Are you really going to touch it?" he was insecure.

"What else would I be doing with it."

"But we do not know anything about this orb. Dezmund himself told us how dangerous they are." he tried to reason but he knew himself that this was the only thing they could do to help find the young Assassin.

"We have to take the risk." Altair said, determined as he reached for the glowing ball.

"What are you doing?" their heads whipped around so fast it almost made them dizzy.

In the door stood a man, seemingly in his 50s, glowering dangerously at them with his arms crossed in front of his chest. They knew who that man was. The way the other Assassins behaved around him, looked up to him, spoke to him. They both had experienced it. But to be honest they had mixed feelings about meeting him right now. The Mentor. Desmond's father.

It took them a while to realize they could understand the older man, he had spoken Arabic. It was not really a surprise. It had been something like a tradition for the Assassins, that at least their Mentor learned Arabic. It was most likely due to the fact that Altair's brotherhood back in Masyaf was the very first to be known as such. On top of that was Altair being seen as famous among the Assassins even to the present time. Had the Syrian been still as arrogant as he had a few years back then he would've felt pride overtake him by now.

Ezio was the first to break the uncomfortable silence between the three. The presence of each trying to overpower the other.

"We can not sit around doing nothing while Dezmund is being held by the Templars." the familiar way of mentioning his son's name made the Mentor's eye twitch not commenting on it though.

"I have used the Apple to come to this time. Should we not find information on Desmond's whereabouts soon, it will be our only choice to consult its power." Altair's voice was steady and strong and his eyes stared unwavering into the other man's blue orbs. Altair was younger, much younger, yes. But he didn't doubt that he was a considerate amount ahead of experience. Would it come to hand-to-hand combat, Altair and Ezio most likely outclassed him. On the other hand, the two time travelers were still foreign to their level of technology that they were able to use even in battle.

"You don't even know what the Apple does. God knows you could kill us all with that thing." Desmond's father argued.

"It can not do more harm than the Templars or this sun-flare if we don't find your son soon." he tried to remain objective as to not agitate the Mentor with their real feelings towards his son.

"You have no idea how powerful those Artifacts can be. Don't take them so lightly."

"I know how powerful they can be." he countered with a growl, his eyes lowering dangerously on the other man. "I have seen what they are capable of and that is exactly why I plan to use it. I know it can show us where Desmond is held."

The older Assassin sighed in defeat.

"I've got the feeling that there is another reason for you two to get Desmond back so desperately. And I don't like it. But you're right, getting him out is our top priority. Come down with me and take the Apple with you." he was already out the door before turning to look at the two Master Assassins once more "You may be Altair Ibn-La'Ahad and Ezio Auditore da Firenze and I'm grateful for what you two have done for the brotherhood in the past but this is not the past and I don't trust either of you." and with that he left.

Altair let out an annoyed sigh and reached for the still glowing orb inside the backpack only to be held back by Ezio's hand on his wrist.

"Wait. If you touch it now you could activate it." he warned before closing the bag, which took him a while to understand how the mechanism worked and they made their way downstairs.

When they arrived, the Mentor was already waiting while Shaun, Lucy and Rebecca were present, too. The trio stared at the two Master Assassins, not used to seeing them in modern clothes. They had gone out shortly to get them new clothes. After all, they couldn't go rescue Desmond when they stood out that much.

They all took a seat around a round table while the artifact was placed in the middle. Ezio was careful not to touch it with his bare hands.

"I hope your intuition is right or this might end in a catastrophe." the Mentor said with a sigh.

Altair didn't talk back. He was hoping he was right about this as much as the Mentor was. He eyed the deceivingly innocent orb before placing his hand on the artifact's cold surface and a bright light engulfed the whole room. When the light vanished again allowing everyone to stop shielding their eyes from the brightness they all stared at the image before them. A hologram-like image of a giant building.

The Mentor got up from his chair and spoke some orders to the others, who didn't waste a second to hurry out of the room to get to work. It seemed the Apple did his job and they already had an idea where Desmond could be. The two time traveling Assassins couldn't really get much information out of this image, though. Neither did they know where to start searching for that building nor did they know how to operate a machine like a computer.

After making sure where exactly it was that Desmond was held captive, the Mentor, William, as he finally introduced himself, told the two Master Assassins various things they needed to know for this mission. They needed to know about the elevators, their weapons and all the things they had to look out for in this time. When he was certain they understood everything he ordered for more Assassins to join their mission. It seemed like the building they were to infiltrate was something like a headquarter and was heavily guarded which made this mission difficult and they needed more men than the few they had here. It would take a few days for the remaining support to arrive and the team was on edge.

He hated waking up with a massive headache trying to split his skull in two. And that had been happening too much the past months for his liking. When his mind recovered from the haze the first thing he noticed was the far too familiar cold creeping into his bones as he lay on the hard floor of his cell. His heart dropped with every detail he took in that confirmed he was back at Abstergo again. The room was not as small as to be called a "cell". It even had a second small room attached to it but apart from a bed and a small table there was nothing in the room. The second room had a toilet, sink and a shower which Desmond was really grateful for. It didn't do much to make the atmosphere any less dreadful and cold though. He didn't have to look to know that there were cameras in every corner, watching his every step even in the bathroom.

So what now? It didn't really matter if he was cooperative or not, Desmond knew that. But maybe he could buy a bit of time when he resisted. But would the others even look for him? They had to, right? They needed him. But would they look for him even if they didn't need him? Rebecca probably. But Lucy? Shaun? His dad? They knew each other for a few months now but Desmond felt like he still didn't know them. They were secretive of their true feelings, always hiding behind urgency for duty. Maybe that's just how the modern Assassins were like. It was logical not to let personal emotions interfere as an Assassin.

But what about Ezio and Altair? Are they looking for him? Did they even realize what happened? He just ran out. Now that he thought about it he really put himself into this mess. He ran away like a child, without his weapons or any idea as to where to even run to. Why would any of the Assassins look for an idiot who can't even look after himself. Funny that this idiot was supposed to save the world.

"What a joke." he muttered to himself just as the door to his room opened, making him realize that he hadn't even gotten up from the floor he had been laying on yet.

"Mr. Miles! It's so good to see you again." Warren Vidic greeted with his usual tone that sounded happy in a creepy way. Desmond couldn't help but think if maybe there was a point in that old man's life where something happened that made him go insane or something.

"Sorry but I can't really say the same." he muttered just clear enough for the other man to hear it.

It had always been like that. When around Vidic, Desmond was torn between fighting the man with all his might and shrinking back at the fear of what he knew that guy could do to him and he couldn't help but ask himself if other Assassins would feel the same way in his situation. Would they be scared? Or would they fight him till the end?

"I'm sorry to hear that. I had hoped we had become good friends before you left us. We had such a nice time together." with his hands locked behind his back, the hoary man smiled down at him. Desmond felt a cold shiver run down his spine. Was it only his imagination or has Vidic become even more creepy than before?

"I think we both have different ideas of a good time." even though his words were of resistance, his voice was not. It was quiet and had no bite to it. It was like a child's attempt to argue with its parents.

"I hate to cut our reunion short but, as you might know, we have work to do, Mr. Miles." although sounding impatient now, the smile never left his lips.

"I'm not stopping you." the Assassin feigned innocence.

"You know very well that we need you for that work, Mr. Miles."

"Oh really? I don't remember signing up for any kind of work at all, I'm sorry." he swallowed as he watched the other man's eyes lower dangerously at him and his smile drop.

"I do recommend you to cooperate with us. We don't have the time to put up with your childish behavior. I was still gracious with my methods last time."

"Childish behavior my ass! Who'd not put up a fight in my situation? You guys are just fucking crazy!" he spat at the old man. Just then two Templars appeared at his door, with syringes in their hands. Desmond's brain immediately jumped into battle-mode, knowing what their intentions were.

When one of them attempted to grab him he took a quick step back and kicked against the man's outstretched arm, making him grunt in pain and let go off the medical tool. The Assassin used his shock as an opportunity to knock him out just to barely dodge a taser in the next second. He took hold of the second Templar's arm to haul him over his shoulder and use his own leg to break the man's arm with a sickening crack.

When he looked up at Vidic with a glare he heard more footsteps from outside the room approaching. The old man was staring at the panting Assassin with furrowed brows in annoyance. When the next group of Templars appeared in the door, Vidic closed his eyes and let out an exaggerated sigh.

"One more chance, Mr. Miles."

Desmond knew he had no chance against that big group of Templars but like hell would he give in to these heartless bastards without putting up a fight. Chances are someone is already searching for him and every minute not being stuck in the Animus could save some of the damage that will be done to his brain until he can escape this hell again.

He fought off a few Templars but he knew it was over when he felt the familiar sting of a syringe at his neck. The last thing he was aware of before his he couldn't fight the tiredness that overcame him, was his body being transportet away from his room.

When he came to he was, to his surprise, not looking into the screen of the all too familiar Animus like he thought he would by now. Instead he was sitting in a chair. There was not much else in the room apart from a rectangular table against the sterile white wall. He also noticed that his hands and ankles were bound to the arms and legs of the chair.

His head snapped up when the door slid open, two hooded guys in white and a surgeon mask covering their faces entering the room. It made Desmond think if they wore those outfits to mock the Assassins in some way. Because it kind of did piss him off how they looked similar to the Assassins like this. His anger was replaced by nervosity and tension however when Vidic walked in behind the two men.

"You are probably wondering why you are not inside the Animus yet." it was not a question. Desmond didn't like where this was going. The old man circling around him and the strange atmosphere hanging in the air made the hair on his neck stand on end. "Mr. Miles." he started. "Do you know why you are here?"

"Didn't you want my ancestor's memories to find the apple?" at least that had been the reason last time he was here.

Vidic stopped in front of the Assassin and leaned down a bit, playing his hands on the arms of the chair.

"Oh yes. But why should we waste our time looking through the memories when you could just give it to us?"

"What do you mean?" of course he knew what he meant. He wanted the Apple and Desmond had it. The only question is, how did they know?

Vidic gave an exhausted sigh.

"Are you really trying to play dumb? I thought you knew better than that by now."

The hit to his jaw knocked his head to the side as pain spread through the entire right side of his face.

"So. Where are you hiding it?" he asked again as he slowly circled the chair impatiantly.

"..."

The next hit sent his head flying back before he felt wetness drip from his nose and run over his mouth. He groaned at the pain of his probably broken nose and the coppery taste made him cringe.

"We have all day, Mr. Miles. But still, we should speed this up a bit." Vidic gave one of the white hooded men a nod and the guy went over to the table, spreading out some tools.

Desmond swallowed when he saw different sorts of knifes, a scalpel and other tools which he'd rather not learn the funktionality of. His heart sped up and he made no attempt to hide the fear he felt when the Templar approached him with one of the knifes.

"Have you ever wondered why the Assassins changed so much over time? I mean, cutting the ringfinger was necessary to use the hidden blade long ago. But it also served as a symbol of becoming an Assassin, did it not. So why change those traditions?"

Desmond dreaded what was to come and his heart hammered against his ripcage in fear and nervosity. His breathing quickened.

The ear-piercing scream that echoed off the walls would have been heart wrenching to every being owning a heart. The pain made him dizzy and the feeling of flesh and bone being cut agonizingly slow made him feel sick.

His torturer realized it was harder to cut bone than he thought so he tried again until he finally cut through, eliciting another cry from his victim.

"Can't something be done against this noise? It's distracting my employees." Vidic complained to the other Templar who had only been watching so far. Said man didn't waste time to rip part of his own uniform and pushed the piece of cloth into Desmond's mouth before securing the ends behind his head.

Desmond wheezed behind his gag, not far from hyperventilating as the cloth quickly got soaked by blood and tears. His whole body trembled, bound hands cramping and relaxing repeatedly trying to find out which would ease the pain the most. When the dizziness and the nausea finally passed his eyes snapped up at Vidic, seething with anger.

"Ready to talk now, Mr. Miles?" he gave one of the Templars a nod and the gag was removed.

"F-fuck you!" Desmond panted out, his voice shaking with pain and hatred.

Vidic furrowed his brows.

"Not the answer I hoped for." another nod signaled one of the men to continue and his torturer came back with a different tool while Vidic turned to leave.

"Don't kill him. We still need his answers." he paused at the door. "And put that cloth back. I don't want him to disturbe our work." with that he left.

With the ag back in Desmond's mouth the Templar got back to work as he alined the strange looking tool to the tip of his finger and the Assassin braced himself for the pain he knew was to come.

A choked cry escaped him when the first nail was forcefully removed from his fingertip and the Templar went on to the next one, repeating the action.

By the time all nails were removed from one hand, Desmond was only barely conscious and the only reason he managed to withstand the urge to vomit was the thought that he's probably choke on it as he still had the cloth in his mouth.

Before falling unconscious his head lolled bacl, his teary eyes closing and praying to whatever was in heaven that this would soon end.

It was dark outside, well past midnight, when he gazed outside the dusty windows of the Auditore Villa from his position on the bed. It was no secret that he slept poorly the past days. Anxiety and worry kept him awake at night when he couldn't distract himself with training and learning about the strange technologie of this time.

When his family had died he thought he would never love anyone again in fear they would get taken from him again. But he couldn't keep his heart from loosing itself to the young Assassin. He was not sure when it had started but it was way before meeting him here in person.

That presence. That 'thing' that had remained at his side when everything else had been taken away from him. At first it had been an intruder. Even when he put on a fake smile that thing knew how he really felt deep down. It had made him feel vulnerable. With time he had gotten used to it and realized that it meant no harm. And before he had known it he relayed on it but only with its sudden absense did he realize just how much it truly had meant to him.

He had consulted his best friend, Leonardo, about it but as knowledgable as his friend might have been, this was something entirely different, something otherwordly and Ezio almost went mad with frustration.

He didn't think anything of it at first. The presence occasionally left but always returned after some time. Not this time however. So he had been shocked when he was transported to this time and meeting his lost piece in person. Strangely he had known it was him the moment he laid eyes on the boy's panicked and utterly confused look.

Ezio smiled at the memory.

The sound of someone uncomfortably shifting pulled him from his memories and with a tired sigh he turned to the side to see Altair turning in his bed. The slightly older man didn't seem to sleep much better than himself.

Ezio had noticed how the man's eyes followed the youngest. He definitely didn't like the thought of sharing Desmond with anyone, especially the Syrian but if that was the only way then so be it. At least he could trust Altair with protecting Desmond. Granted there would be anything left of him to protect.

"What if we can't get him back." it wasn't really a question he expected an answer for but Altair answered anyway obviously not asleep.

"We will." he simply stated as if it was a fact and Ezio was impressed by either how sure the other was or how well he managed to convince himself of it.

"But what if there is nothing left of him? Who knows what these Templars will do-"

"Then we will pick up the pieces and put them back together."

Ezio hadn't realized the other had turned around to glare at the Italian, signaling him to drop the subject.

"He may be a fledgling but he is strong-willed. But we should hurry regardless. Sleep, or you won't be at your best when we infiltrate their base."

The next morning they went through their plan to rescue Desmond once more. They had made sure Ezio and Altair understood the technologie they would be confronted with on this mission and even teached them some English over the past few days. Fortunately those two were quick to learn and they all prayed it would be enough.

"Can you guys hear me?" came the raven-haired woman's voice from the little device in his ear.

"Yes, we can hear you, Rebecca."

The foreign words were still strange to him and it must have been hard to understand him through his accent.

"Great! Okay, so you have only a few seconds where the cameras will be turned off and the doors unlocked. Any longer and they will track us. Understood?"

"Understood." Altair answered while crouched near the target building.

It was massiv and white. Pretty outstanding even among similar buildings. They were told that the Templars use it as a normal company building where innocent people worked, oblivious to its true purpose.

They had waited until dark so that only Templars were left inside.

"There are two guys armed with guns guarding the front door and several more just inside. Try a different entrance. Unfortunately I can only open the automatic doors for you."

Ezio and Altair scambled up the building the best they could until there was no way to way to reach any higher. When they found a sort of backdoor they picked the lock and could finally enter. They immidiately came face to face with a big muscled man in white uniform that was supposedly guarding the door.

"Hey!" he shouted but the two Master Assassins didn't waste any time to take him out with ease.

"Pathetic." Ezio mocked the the guy now lying on the ground drowning in his own blood.

"Do not get careless." Altair advised before turning his attention to the earpiece. "We are inside."

"Okay. You're still in the main building that's used as company. You ned to get higher first."

They moved slowly and with trained grace. They stopped in their tracks when they entered a corridor and noticed the cameras.

"I'll turn the cameras off for a few sconds now. Remember, you'll have only a few seconds, be ready. If you follow down the corridor to the right and turn left at the end you'll find stairs that lead further up."

Their postures were tense as they waited for the woman's signal.

"Aaand... Go!"

They reached the stairs in time and stood in the camera's blind spot until Rebecca's voice came though again.

"Now!"

They repeated this two more set of stairs until the woman's voice halted them.

"Wait! There are guards patrolling the hallway on the next floor. Can you guys make it past them without a fight?"

"Si, there should be no problem." Ezio answered confidently. Although more unconfortable than what they were used to these clothes made it easier to move silently. Altair always had the problem that his weapons made quite the noise and even then he managed to move silently enough. He still wondered how that Italian idiot managed to be silent with all the clothes he had worn when they first met.

"Okay, cameras will be off in 3... 2... 1, go!"

They went up the next stairs on silent but hurried feet, easily avoiding every guard they encountered. And that was what worried Altair. This was too easy. If this truly was their headquater should it not be better guarded?

"They are expacting us." he whispered as they once again stood hidden in a blind spot.

Ezio gave him a look that told him he had noticed, too.

"I guess that was to be expected." Rebecca said. "They know that we... need Desmond." the pause signaled the two Master Assassins that she struggled to find a word that didn't sound like they were using the younger Assassin.

They both grimaced at the thought.

"Ready for the next one?" she asked.

The two merely nodded and even though Rebecca couldn't see it, she knew they were ready.

He startled awake with the realization that he needed to reach the toilet as fast as possible.

The sounds that escaped his throat together with things he'd preferred to keep inside only added to the urge to bang his head against the wall to make it stop as he emptied his whole stomach conent into the bowl, which had not been much to begin with. Vidic had told his men to keep him alive but at this rate he wouldn't last much longer. He rarely received any food and the bit he got immediately landed in the toilet mostly. He was glad he had at least enough water through in here.

He didn't know how much time had passed. Maybe three days. Maybe a week or maybe even more. At least enough time for him to almost give in a few times when the pain got unbearable.

Every time he thought they must have gone through every god damn tool by now, his torturer pulled out a new one. Fortunately, he got water in his room which allowed him to clean out his wounds when he wasn't too tired. They probably made sure this way that he didn't die of an infection or something.

Desmond gazed down at the stump where once had been his finger as he leaned back against the cool wall. The sight still made his stomach turn and he couldn't stop hisurge to gag.

He ripped off some of his sleeves to re-bandage his abused hands, careful to not agitate his stub or fingertips where the nails had been removed. It took him a long time as most of his right hand now consisted of broken bones. He silently wondered if he'll ever be able to fight again or if it even mattered.

The only things that still kept him going were his hatred for Vidic and the faces of Altair and Ezio that haunted his restless dreams when tiredness finally won against the paint or when he was already unconscious before he even reached his room. He would survive this if it meant he got to see those two Assassins once more.

He closed his eyes, like he had before so many times as he let his head fall back against the too bright bathroom wall and tried to picture their faces once again but failed as they were a mess of blurry grimaces. With a sinking feeling he realized he started to forget what they looked like. He was sure it hadn't been that long yet that he was held captive.

Is that what torture does to people? He thought with a heavy heart as he closed his eyes again to let a tear freely escape his eye.

He ignored the hiss with which the door to his cell opened.

"Mr. Miles. Feeling like talking yet?" Vidic asked as the man stood in the bathroom door with his hands behind his back like always.

Desmond just glared a him with wet eyes. He was too tired to talk back to that old bastard. His voice would not really work anyway as his throat was raw from his screams and still burned from all the vomiting.

Vidic sighed and gave his men a nod. Two men hurried over to Desmond's position and not too gently lifted him up by his arms and dragged him out of the room with his head hanging down weakly and his legs dragging over the floor. He winced when they grapped onto some deeper cuts that littered half his body, both deep and shallow. A glaance to the side into one of the rooms they passed and out a window told him that it was still dark outside. Vidic usually waited until it was at least bright outside. Why did he deprive himself of sleep to get Desmond to talk suddenly? Are they running out of time? Did something happen? Desmond's mind was too tired to really think about any of this any further. He couldn't change anything anyway.

They arrived at the room that had been Desmond's torture chamber over the past days. To his surprise it always got cleaned after they were done with him. He was once again placed in the chair that stood in the middle of the room and his hands and feet tied to the chair. Two men guarded the door outside like always and Vidic stood in front of the young Assassin with two other Templars.

Desmond waited patiently to get introduced to yet another new torturing tool today but to his confusion no one moved. When he raised his head with great effort he saw the old man merely staring down at him with an unreadable expression. Fear, nervousness and confusion mixed together to an ugly feeling that made his heart speed up uncomfortably.

Vidic's strange gaze turned into a smirk of a madman before he turned towards one of his men.

"It seems that Mr. Miles is impatiently waiting for us to begin so let's not make him wait any longer. And here I wanted to go easy on you today. " He reprehensibly shook his head while the other Templar picked a tool.

Desmond's eyes widened while his brows knit together in irritation. Was that bastard playing with him? When the masked Templar approached and reached for his face Desmond averted his head and let out a whine that sounded like a kicked puppy. As the second attempt succeeded the Templar grapped his jaw tightly in a iron grip, forcing his mouth open.

Desmond quickly realized what was about to happen when the metallic arms of the pincer-like device laid itself around one of his teeth tightly.

"Nnh!" he whined out, his voice failing him. He tried to avert his face again, to no avail. "N-no!" he forced out, this time at least a whisper.

His eyes filled with new tears. His marred fingers painfully gripped the arms of the chair in an attempt to lessen the pain he was about to feel. His panicked heart felt like it was trying to crawl up his abused throat.

The grip at his jaw tightened as did the one around his tooth and he felt the beginning of a pull.

Please! His mind screamed out what his voice was not capable of anymore. Please don't! I can't take this anymore! Someone...

Tears rolled uncontrollably down his cheeks and just when the pull on his tooth was starting to get painful it was suddenly gone as muffled grunting noises surged through his with panic dazed mind.

The door opened with a hiss and in walked two white hooded figures.

For a second Desmond thought more of Vidic's men had come to join the fun but then his heart jumped when he saw each of the two with a hidden blade unsheathed which dripped with blood.

"We've been expecting you." claimed Vidic now turned toward the intruders.

Several hurried footsteps could be heard as the two were soon completely surrounded by Templars. Desmond's heart dropped as his hope of release faded at the sight.

"You Assassins and your bad habit of overestimating yourselves." Vidic shook his head. "How are you planning to escape this situation? And all that for a child."

One of the Assassins reached into his hooded jacket and the entire room seemed to freeze for mere seconds.

"The Apple." the old man breathed out in fascination as he seemed entranced by the wondrous orb. "I see. So you want to trade this godly artifact against the child? How foolish." he mocked.

"There will be no trade." the one holding the orb stated calmly before raising the orb higher and a blinding light filled the whole floor.

Desmond winced as he screwed his eyes shut. When he thought it was safe to open then again he stared wide eyed into two pairs of very familiar golden eyes, completely ignoring the now either dead or unconscious bodies littering the floor.

It can't be. he thought, still confused with the fact that, of all people, it had been Altair using the Apple.

"Desmond." his name was whispered and said man hand't even realized that the other man, Ezio, had come to crouch down beside him to cut the rope that tied his limbs to the chair. "Merda! What did they do to you." Desmond hoped he didn't want an answer to that because neither was he able to nor did he want to answer it.

When his ankles and hands were freed two warm hands cupped his swollen face almost too gently and exhaustion hit him like a truck. He couldn't help the whine that escaped his chapped lips. He barely registered being lifted onto someone's back and a four fingered hand threading through his sweat soaked hair shortly before it vanished again.

"We got him." he heard an Arabic accented voice announce to someone and Desmond tiredly wondered when the Master Assassin had learned to speak English. He heard more words being exchanged but his mind couldn't register them and he didn't really care either. All he wanted was to breathe in the smell that was unmistakably Ezio as he buried his nose in the man's clothed neck. He didn't care if this was a dream or whatever as long as it didn't end cruelly.

He tried not to fall asleep in fear that the next time he woke up would be back in his cell but his exhaustion was unbearable. The only thing keeping him awake was the pain that jolted through his body every time the body that was supporting him moved too harshly and the pulsing in his hands. One tired glance down at his hands told him that the wounds reopened and were bleeding again. Probably because of him gripping the chair too hard earlier.

He let out a whine of protest as he felt himself being lowered to the ground but wasn't aware of much more than what probably were fighting sounds before being lifted onto a strong back again.

I struggled with the Abstergo part for a long time and I'm sorry to those who wished for more detailed stealth action and fighting scenes but I'm just SO bad at it ._.

I'm sure there are still some kind of errors. Just point them out to me if you like and I will edit the chapter right away~