He doesn't look like much.

For once, as Haytham looks across the crowded tavern at where Shay is waiting alone, Desmond agrees with his ancestor. It's later, a while after his first talk with Haytham—a day and a half for Desmond, several weeks of travel for his ancestor—but this is the first time they've had the chance to see Shay in person.

I've heard good things, Haytham says. He has been working with the Templars since whatever really happened in Lisbon. But…

He looks like a half drowned rat, Ezio observes, and the comment seems to startle Haytham, at least enough for him to smile for a second.

That's not inaccurate, he says. But he takes his responsibilities seriously, and this is a man that is being seriously considered for the Templars. Haytham stands, weaves through the crowd, and sits himself back down at Shay's table. Desmond can't help straining forward, studying the other man as if he'll be able to see Javier through him somehow. Stupid, probably, but he can't help himself. Javier is still going through Shay's memories, he's still looking out for Juno the same way Desmond is. But from this perspective, it just looks like Shay alone. It's weird.

Nothing is true, Altair says, and Desmond smiles reflexively.

Don't start that Assassin nonsense, Haytham says, and then turns his attention to Shay. "My name," he says. "Is Haytham Kenway."

"I've heard of you," Shay says. He draws himself up, makes a visible effort to look like less like a drowned rat.

"Oh?" Haytham says. "From whom?"

"The Assassins," Shay says. His tone is reluctant. "But I'm not with them now."

"No," Haytham says. "I wouldn't be meeting with you here if you were. I've heard from some of my men that you've been working with them for the past few months. They speak highly of you."

Shay blinks, and says, "Thank you," cautiously. "I couldn't stay with the Assassins. Not after they sent me after that artifact, and that woman."

Juno! Ezio says.

Yes, Haytham says drily. But from what you've told me, you already knew that. "I'm told that not only do you want to leave the Assassins, but you intend to join the Templars."

"I do," Shay says. "I never thought I would, but… I think the Assassins are looking at artifacts like this all wrong."

Desmond stays quiet. So do Altair and Ezio. As much as the natural instinct is to jump to the defense of the Assassins, he can't imagine that going over well with Haytham.

"Oh?" Haytham makes a tent of his fingers, and peers over them at Shay. "Explain."

"I just… the things she could do with the artifact." And he explains, briefly, looking with every word like the memory is physically painful, what had happened in Lisbon. "The Assassins sent me to Lisbon to recover the artifact and bring it back to them. For all I know, they were going to try and use it."

And he's never even seen an apple, Ezio says, no longer able to stay quiet. Imagine if he'd seen Juno trying out her mind control instead of whatever that thing in Lisbon was.

He's lucky he didn't, Desmond points out. That thing had something to do with… what, gravity? Based on the way it threw him around the room, and how it triggered that earthquake—

Well, it's not mind control, Ezio says grimly.

"And what do you think the Templars want to do with it?" Haytham asks. "Just out of curiosity. What do you think we're going to do with these artifacts once we have them?"

"I don't know, exactly," Shay admits. "But I know that you hate the Assassins. I can't believe that you'd want these artifacts for the same reason. And besides, the people I've been working with, Gist and his friends—they're good people. I think… I've been friends with some of the Assassins for a very long time. Liam, I…" He cuts himself off, and Desmond wonders who this Liam is, and what kind of history he has with Shay. An old friend, maybe. An Assassin, definitely. He feels pity stirring, but Haytham clearly does not.

He would be a good fighter, he says. And I think he would serve the Templars loyally—he's left the Assassins and burned his bridges. If nothing else, he has nowhere else to go. But—

Oh come on, Haytham, Ezio says. Look how sad he is.

Haytham's face contorts.

"Sir?" Shay says.

"It's nothing," Haytham says. "I'm just… considering."

I don't know how the Assassins usually decide on recruits, Haytham says. But the Templars don't usually admit new members based on whether or not they look like a puppy that's been left out in the rain.

We need him, Altair says. He's seen Juno, he may have more information.

"Please," Shay says.

And Haytham gives in. "Alright then," he says. "You've certainly done good work with Gist." He stands, and holds out a hand. Shay stands as well, and shakes it.

"Thank you sir," he says. "You won't regret this."

"I don't think I'm going to be allowed to," Haytham agrees drily. "Now, I do have a few questions for you. About what happened in Lisbon, and specifically to the woman you fought there."

-/-

But discouragingly, Shay doesn't know much. They don't learn anything really helpful, and in the end Desmond and Javier both have to log out of the animi. Desmond isn't overly concerned. They'll find Juno eventually, figure out what she's there for, and how to stop her. And his ancestor and Javier's are working together now, and he thinks that's a pretty big win.

Javier clearly doesn't see things the same way. "I'm not helping very much," he says. "Am I?"

"Of course you are," Desmond says. He doesn't know Javier well, but he recognizes the downtrodden, discouraged expression on the teenager's face. He's felt that way plenty of times himself, and it's taken him a long time to feel actually useful.

"But why?" Javier asks. "I mean, what am I actually doing in there? What's Shay doing? The artifact from Lisbon is destroyed, so he doesn't have any helpful information. He doesn't know any more than anyone else, and neither do I."

"He's seen Juno though," Desmond says. "That's something."

"Not much of something."

"Look," Desmond says. "We know she's in that time now. And we know there are other artifacts around—Haytham has one with him now, a key. And I know there's an apple around somewhere. We need to be ready for her when she makes her move, and now that our ancestors are together, we can be."

"I think Shay wants to find her," Javier admits. " Juno, I mean. He hasn't told anyone else about it, but he keeps thinking about her. And he's angry."

Desmond's pretty sure Haytham would be okay with that—they've just about convinced him that Juno's a serious threat, but that only means he'll be more willing to let Shay go after Juno if he volunteers.

"And I'd do it," Javier adds, while Desmond is still thinking about it. "I mean, I wouldn't have much choice. If Shay goes, I'll have to go too, but I guess—I…" He looks at Desmond, almost sheepish—but there's a kind of steel behind it that reminds Desmond that this isn't just some random teenager pulled off the streets. He's going to be an Assassin.

"Good," Desmond says. "Great. But for tonight… just try and get some rest, okay?"

Javier rolls his eyes in a distinctly teenage type of way, but he also grins at Desmond as he heads off to a corner of the temple.

-/-

The next couple days in the animus prove Desmond right about Javier and Shay being able to help. Juno, it quickly becomes obvious, is enraged. Maybe she's getting tired of losing, maybe Lisbon was the last straw. She starts to lash out at everyone and everything that gets too close to her. They quickly learn to recognize the signs of where Juno has passed—most noticeably, the people she's pulled in with her mind control. Some of them drop whatever they're doing with their lives to follow her, while others apparently go crazy. But no matter how hard they try to figure out where she's going or how to catch her, they're always a step or two behind.

By the time the weekend comes, they all need a break. Haytham and Shay don't exactly get that option, but for Desmond and Javier, they can at least take a day off from the animus. Javier announces he's going to sleep until noon, but Desmond doesn't have any particular plans.

He gets up early, out of habit, and wanders around a bit, getting in everyone's way. Finally, clearly exasperated, Shaun suggests he go out and wait for his dad to get back.

"What?" Desmond asks. Until that moment, he hasn't even realized his dad's missing. When Shaun points it out, though, he does notice—for the first time since he went into Haytham's memories, his dad isn't in the Temple. Hasn't been there all morning, actually. "Where is he?"

"He left early," Shaun says. "Before dawn. I think he said he had to go get something important."

Desmond has no idea what that might be, but he does know when he's being dismissed, so he shrugs into a coat and heads out to wait for his dad to get back. He's alone today, his ancestors busy elsewhere and elsewhen, so the familiar voices in his head are missing. It's a rare opportunity for Desmond to be completely alone with his thoughts, and for a while that's enough. He finds a comfortable place to sit, and lets his mind wander.

Then come the footsteps. Two sets. Desmond jerks to his feet, expecting trouble—but then he sees his dad's face, and starts to relax. It's only after several seconds that he realizes the second set of footsteps belongs to a boy—scrawny and dark haired, eyes fixed on his shoes—walking at his dad's side.

Elijah.

There's no one else it could possibly be.

"Desmond," his dad says. "This is Elijah. Elijah, this is—"

"Really?" Elijah asks. "That's him?" He doesn't sound very impressed, which doesn't seem fair at all. They don't know anything about each other, they've never even met.

"Yes, Elijah," Desmond's dad says pointedly. He gives him a little look that Desmond recognizes from his own childhood. That's the look that says you're behaving very badly right now, try and act your age.

Elijah fixes him with a look, then slowly turns to glance at Desmond. There's a little more uncertainty there now. "Sorry," he says.

"Um," Desmond says.

"I'm going to head back into the Temple," William says. "And leave the two of you to talk."

"But—"

It's too late. His dad's gone. Desmond's alone with his son, and he has no idea what to do. He clears his throat and turns back to the boy. "Do you want to come sit over here?" he asks. "And we can—we can talk."

Elijah considers for several seconds. "Okay," he says at last.

They sit.

"He brought me here because he's worried you're going to die again and we'll never have a chance to meet."

"Wait," Desmond says. "What? He told you that?"

"No," Elijah says. "I just know it." His gaze, which so far has been on his feet, on the ground in front of him, on the trees, on anything other than Desmond, suddenly flicks up toward him. "I… just know a lot of things, actually. Because I'm a Sage, I—it's weird. I know it's weird. I know it's—" He breaks off into mumbling, too quiet for Desmond to understand.

He has to do something, obviously, because otherwise this is going to be their whole first meeting, it's just going to be sitting here in the cold, not looking at each other. "So I'm dead," he says, and his voice is like a croak. "It's like you said, I might be dying again in a few weeks, and the only reason I'm alive at all is… I don't even know. I got incredibly lucky. Way luckier than I deserved, but sometimes I still feel like…" He scratches at his arm, the one that's hurt on and off ever since he saved the world and almost died. "I don't deserve this. There's nothing wrong with being complicated or weird or whatever, Elijah."

"Yes there is."

But he looks very slightly less nervous. "I…"

"Yea?" Desmond prompts.

He swallows. "I don't want you to hate me."

There are all kinds of things Desmond could have said to that. He could have argued, or tried to come up with a logical reason he's not going to ever, ever hate Elijah. But the truth is that there's no argument he can think of that seems as true or as real as the way he feels right now. So Desmond reaches a hand out to Elijah and says, "Never."

Elijah looks at the hand, but doesn't take it, not yet. He does look Desmond full in the face for the first time, though, and that's some kind of progress. "I don't think you understand," he says. "I don't think you understand what it would be like to have to live with me."

"I know that you can't possibly be as bad as you think you are," Desmond says. He opens and closes his mouth several times, trying to figure out what to say. It's hard, because he never imagined he'd be in a situation like this. "I'm sorry," he says, when he can't think of anything else to say. "I should have known about you, and I should have been there."

"No," Elijah says. "No, no, no, that's not what I meant, you don't have to be sorry about it, I'm just saying this probably isn't going to be as easy as you want it to be."

He's obviously, visibly trying to talk himself out of being here. Clenching and unclenching his hands, face pale. Desmond's not going to let him do it. "Why don't you stay here?" he asks. "I know it's not the best situation, but I mean if my dad's right about me dying again in December, I want to know you before it happens. I mean it, I swear."

"I can't," Elijah says. "I have school, and homework, and—" He looks up at Desmond, a flash of intense emotion on his face. "And Grandpa's wrong. You're not going to die."

"Yea?" Desmond asks. "Is that something you just know, or…?"

"Not exactly," Elijah says. "It's…" He squeezes his eyes closed, and maybe it's a little easier for him to talk, because the words come a little bit less hesitantly. "I really don't want you to die. I want you to come home and be my d-dad."

That last word he does stumble over, but Desmond's so relieved just to hear it that he doesn't care. "I want that too," he says. "More than anything." And he reaches over cautiously to put his arm around Elijah's shoulder.

"So don't die," Elijah mumbles. "Just don't do it."

"I won't," Desmond says. "I pr—"

"No!" Elijah's eyes fly open, and he looks Desmond full in the face. "Don't promise when you can't control it. If you promise you won't die, and then you do, it's going to be so much worse."

That's a fair complaint. Desmond nods. "Then I won't promise anything. But I'm going to do everything I possibly can to make it home for you."

Elijah's face quirks into something that might, in kinder circumstances, have been a smile. "I don't think I have a home," he says. "I don't think I could go back to Mom. And I've just been in the warehouse base since then."

"I don't really have a home either," Desmond says. The sad thing is, the closest he's ever come to feeling like he has a home is in the animus, reliving his ancestors' ideas of home. "But I think, if you wanted to, we could make one together."

It's a little bit of a gamble, for this boy he's never met, who's absolutely terrified of him. It might be too much too soon, but if things go bad, it might be the one and only chance they ever have to talk.

Elijah freezes. For a very long time, he doesn't say anything, he doesn't move, he barely even blinks. Then he sucks in a tiny breath, and says, "I think I would like that more than anything I ever thought of before."

Desmond laughs, and Elijah cracks a grin. "Do you want to come into the Temple for a while?" he asks. "Get warm, maybe a little bit of food?"

"No," Elijah says. From where they're sitting, they can't actually see the Temple, and Desmond is pretty sure Elijah hasn't been that way and seen it yet. Still, when he looks over his shoulder, even though all he's seeing are the trees between them and the cave, Elijah is staring exactly in the direction of the Temple. "I don't want to go in there. I don't like the way it feels."

"The way it feels?"

"I told you I just know things," Elijah says. "This place… I'm so positive that this place is bad, it just feels like this whole…" Whatever feelings or knowledge he has are apparently too big for him to put into words, because he resorts to gesturing helplessly. "This whole bit thing. It's a bad place and I don't want to go there. I think it would feel very bad."

"Oh," Desmond says.

"See?" Elijah says. "I told you I'm weird."

Desmond scoffs and tightens his hold on his son. "It's fine," he says. "We'll just stay out here. I have a while before I have to go back, probably. We have time."

So they settle in for a nice long talk, which doesn't end until the sun dips below the horizon, and William comes to pick up Elijah and take him away. When Desmond heads back to the Temple, he's alone—but for the first time, he genuinely has something to look forward to when all this is over.

-/-

Lucy is out late, long after Desmond comes back in for the night. She's been feeling out of place lately, now that she doesn't really have anything to do, and it's depressingly easy to just creep out of the cave without anyone noticing she's leaving. She considers reporting in to Abstergo, but doesn't. This feels so far beyond the fight between Assassins and Templars that dragging Vidic and his underlings into it seems inappropriate, somehow.

So she just goes off wandering, until the temple is out of sight, and she can pretend that the whole stupidly complicated thing is almost possible to forget for a second. She finds a broad tree and leans against it with her arms crossed over her chest, shivering a little in the early winter air. It's a weird and bitter change to suddenly feel so superfluous, and Lucy allows herself a few minutes just to feel sorry for herself. It's possible she would have stayed there longer, would have kept sulking for an embarrassing amount of time, except that someone interrupts her.

The only warning she has that someone's coming are some (surprisingly light) footsteps, but by the time she's opened her eyes there's a hand on her forehead, and a voice so brittle and brightly angry it makes Lucy shiver involuntarily.

"Juno," she gasps, voice high and scared (and she's glad there's no one around to hear, even as she wishes desperately that someone would come).

"Be quiet," Juno hisses, and Lucy's voice dies in here throat. "Don't run. Don't fight." Her muscles go slack. "You're not much, but you're something. And I am tired of losing. Now follow me." She pulls her hand off Lucy, turns and starts walking. She doesn't wait to see if Lucy's going to follow her, because there's no choice about that. As Juno walks into the woods, Lucy is right behind her.

-/-

I'm really sorry to the person that's been hoping for more Lucy-I'm pretty sure this isn't what you wanted to see.

Also, I don't think I mentioned this before(?), but I probably should have for anyone that doesn't know: Javier, Shay's descendant in this fic, is a character from the Last Descendants young adult novels. They're not perfect, but they're interesting if you're an AC fan.