A/N: I don't own anyone but Alex/Sky though a certain blonde Templar says otherwise….
Skylar trudged down the hall, avoiding the curious stares of the Abstergo employees. Normally she would at least acknowledge them with a brief nod or casual smile but today was different. Her eyes were averted down to the tile, watching as both boots proceeded in military style cadence.
I wonder if I got in the Animus would it jog my memories. Dr. Sung wouldn't approve but I'm sick and tired of chasing goddamn ghosts!
At least Daniel has his memories…
Well most of them.
The young Templar continued in silence, not feeling like talking to anyone this particular morning. She wondered what Dr. Sung would like to discuss during this session. It was never anything that Skylar wanted to know or have answered. It was always questions about her relationship with Daniel, how were they getting along, or if she was sleeping well or was she having more headaches.
Frustrated over her predicament, Skylar reached the heavy oak door at the end of the hallway. She briskly rapped her knuckles on the door.
"Come in."
Skylar took one final breath before twisting the knob and stepping in.
Dr. Sung glanced up from her work and cast a warm smile in her patient's direction.
"Skylar please do come in."
Skylar closed the door, feeling her heart begin to race though she wasn't sure why. The furious pumping of muscle and blood slammed against the bar of cartilage. Sung noticed the apprehension in her eyes and hurried to defuse her patient's growing anxiety.
"Here, sit here," she tapped the top of the exam chair with her open palm. Skylar obediently dropped in the seat, knowing the drill. She pulled the sleeve up and over her right arm, extending it for the waiting cuff. Sung's mind was in physician mode, concerned over Skylar's uneasiness.
She needs to be cleared for duty Sung. Remember, you can be easily terminated if you fail to comply.
"Your blood pressure is 100 over 68 which is great."
"I don't feel so great," she wearily confided before rubbing her eyes. "I didn't sleep last night. This is the fifth time in the last two weeks this has happened to me! I get testy and I snap at recruits if they make mistakes in training; mistakes that everyone makes in their first few weeks. I nearly bit one poor bastard's head off three days ago because he didn't have the safety off his weapon. God I felt like shit all day that day. I was dizzy, unfocused, and my head…..my head was throbbing like a drum. I'm glad Daniel didn't see me. He would've kicked my ass if he did."
"Are you taking your medication as I instructed?" Sung scrutinized the Templar with an admonishing look. Skylar shrank in her seat able to offer a meek head shake. Though she was a smaller woman in size and statute, Sung's hard stare would always make her feel inferior.
"There were a few times I forgot to take them. But I always have them where I remember to take them! I don't do it intentionally!" Skylar's hands flung about the air as her defense mechanism settled in.
"Skylar," Dr. Sung placed a calm hand on her shoulder. "No one's blaming you or accusing you of anything. But it's important you don't stray from the regiment."
"I'm sorry," Skylar's head dropped blocking the tears that were pricking the corners of her eyes. "I don't mean to overreact."
The slender shoulders shook hard, rippling from the subtle sobbing. Sung's lips pursed tightly, concerned over this development. Skylar was to be on that flight to the Ukraine or it was her neck.
"I'm frustrated because nothing is coming back. The door is still locked and I can't find the key."
"Sklyar," Dr. Sung took the opposite chair. "You experienced a great deal of trauma that night. We had to put you in a medical coma to allow your brain and your body to heal. I know you're angry and scared but it's a natural part of the recovery process. You're human. The memories will come back on their own but it will take time."
She waited a few moments for Skylar to calm down. As she silently and patiently sat there, Sung could hear the voices of Rikkin and Vidic haunting her mind.
"How are we progressing Doctor?"
Warren paced the doctor's office reminding her of a shark stalking its prey. She held up the first x-ray to the lighted board. Rikkin and Vidic both scrutinized the soft blue image to the left side of the board before she slipped the results of the recent MRI conducted. Two sheets of images, each one akin to slice of bread or in this case the brain blared through the light.
"Within the last week the swelling located here, here, and here have subsided some. But we can't take it at face value."
"What about the other injuries?" Rikkin coolly demanded of her.
"The bullets were extracted and destroyed per your order." The CEO nodded in approval of this. Sung then continued on.
However, her pelvis is crushed which punctured the spleen which and we had to remove, and conduct a complete hysterectomy. Had we not removed those organs she would've died."
"I see…." Vidic muttered.
"Continue Doctor Sung." Rikkin intervened before Vidic could say anything further.
"Yes of course," she cleared her throat and turned back to the x-ray, replacing it with an image of a chest. "Several ribs were broken or cracked with one lung punctured."
Both men examined the fine lines that zigzagged down several bars of bone. There was a hole in the background, fainter but clearly visible with the naked eye. She quickly exchanged the images for the final one. This one highlighted the skull. Thicker trails marred the lower jaw and across the bridge of the nose.
"As you can see here, her nose is broken along with her jaw. She has internal bleeding in her abdomen as well."
"I-I'm sorry, I shouldn't have lost it like that."
Sung shook her head of the vision to see Skylar peering up with damp eyes with the whites scratched up with thin red cracks. It wasn't the first time Sung had caught this scene.
"Nobody will judge you for what is a natural response." A box of Kleenex was passed over which were happily accepted.
"Thanks," she gingerly dabbed the corners of her eyes.
"So have you experienced any other symptoms?" Skylar sniffled then dabbed her eyes before she answered. Her response was shaky at best.
"Uh I've had really bad migraines. Once I had one so bad I was seeing people and things that weren't really there. People who were taller and were dressed in different clothes but nothing I had seen in any book."
"Sometimes the brain can manifest hallucinations based on people or places that you recognize or perhaps saw somewhere. More than likely it triggered a similar event for you."
Sung frowned causing her brow to burrow with deep worry lines.
"You should've told me this when it happened Skylar."
"I know and I'm sorry I didn't say anything sooner. I just disregarded it as my mind playing tricks on me. Besides I was on a mission to Glasgow when it happened. It didn't last long. If it happens again I'll tell you. I promise." The squeaky words were more like a child's than a grown woman's.
"Alright," the older woman sighed. "But I do have some good news. Your blood results came back and everything is normal."
"That's good."
"Now I would like to do a thorough exam before you leave. It's nothing serious."
"Right," Skylar had learned to become accustomed to the poking and prodding. Dr. Sung had been honest about her injuries and what was done to save her life. When she broke it down to language she could comprehend, Skylar felt her body shudder. How had she survived the degree of trauma and damage inflicted upon her?! The revelations of her plight had only served to increase her simmering anger towards the Order.
"Just change into these and I will meet you in the next room." Skylar sighed and began peeling off her clothing behind the medical curtain. She folded each item neatly before stacking them on the chair. She refused to part with the pendant hanging from her neck. It never left her person, even when she slept.
It had been a gift from her partner.
"How are you feeling?" Daniel hovered along the side of the bed. His sharp blue eyes focused on the bundle in the bed. Tubes pushing transparent streams of hydration nutrients and antibiotics into her veins vanished beneath crisp squares of gauze bound to skin with tape. Another round of surgery was in her immediate future; to repair the flaking layer of skin framing the strong jaw line.
"Mmmm….." She groaned and blinked upward. "Like someone dropped a concrete block on me then doused me in gas and lit a match."
"That great huh?" He snorted at her response. He knew to stay there, to "help" her remember or at least accept her role in Abstergo. "Here, I found this," he dangled the pendant from a sleek silver chain. Skylar's eyes narrowed in confusion at first sight.
"You don't remember do you?" The grin faltered from his face.
"N-n-no," she wanted to shake her head but the throbbing in her lower neck thwarted any such action.
The stunning stones of turquoise and coral that rested in the antiquated silver shined in the blinding fluorescent lighting of the office. Daniel had found it on the floor of the ambulance they spirited her away in. The chain had been broken which had been replaced with a new one. It was funny considering she had proclaimed to Daniel she could get more emotion out of a rock only to recall he was the one who had returned the priceless pendant to her. But she wouldn't tell anyone what he did. His secret was safe with her.
The harsh unrelenting exterior was the side everyone else witnessed. But not Skylar; she had the privilege of knowing a second side to him existed. It was the way they used their bodies to communicate; small but readable signals that no other could see. The fire and passion that burned in her veins had not gone unnoticed by the older Templar. It was the devilish smirk that graced his face that delivered sparks across her body when they clashed in those aggressive but well versed displays of combat. It was the intensity in his eyes whenever their naked forms were intertwined between the sheets; the cold flames that raged only in her presence.
And he had been the first one whose presence greeted her eyes and name formed across her tongue and lips.
Daniel…
It had been difficult in the beginning after she woke up. Skylar was in a state of perpetual panic, struggling to remember who she was. The loss of identity had consumed her mind and soul. Warren had spouted off rivers of information; information that she continued to comprehend. Dr. Sung had utilized a more personal patient approach. It was the doctor who had assisted Skylar in "recalling" her position in Abstergo and more importantly who she was.
But still, Skylar couldn't disregard the unsettling sensation that clung to her; a parasite that couldn't be expelled despite every proverbial remedy used. Perhaps it was her past waging war against the very veil that kept her in the dark; ignorant of past sins and victories. Maybe the upcoming mission would trigger something that would rip that dark curtain wide open. But if it did would she be able to comprehend it.
Straightening the gown with Velcro secure against her back, Skylar crossed the room into the adjacent exam area.
"Harlan has a fix on the Piece."
William turned to Desmond who held a vacant stare. He blinked a few times, as though his subconscious was acknowledging the elder's words.
"Desmond, did you hear me?"
"Yeah, yeah," the younger Miles shrugged. "There's a Piece in Odessa and we have to save the day once again. I get it. The Order and the whole world come first."
William pressed his lips tightly together, knowing his anger with his son was skyrocketing. It had been increasingly difficult to keep his instabilities where Desmond was concerned under control. The moping and mood swings were grinding everyone down. But William didn't and couldn't begin to comprehend the violent storm that raged in his son's soul.
"You need to be focused son. I suspect Daniel Cross will be there seeking the Piece as well."
At mention of the former Assassin, Desmond instantly perked up. Life emerged into the formerly deadened rings as the tendons in his neck jutted out.
"If he's there I get him." His nostrils flared like an angry bull's.
"No one's going to stand in your way either," Rebecca looked up from the computer.
"Good," the younger Miles huffed hard before marching out the door. No one spoke a word for several moments; that is until Shaun piped up.
"Yes well that was…"
"Not good," Rebecca finished his sentence.
Desmond leapt up along the ledge then darted effortlessly across the narrow stretch of concrete before propelling off the edge, grasping the bottom rung of the ancient fire escape, and pulling himself up through the flaking cage that he swore was loaded with tetanus or some other unmentionable disease. An occasional groan or rattle against the chipping brick caused for pause before the Assassin continued the trek upward.
He reached the very top of the building, finding as though the entire world had been turned off. Up here he wasn't Desmond Miles, descendant of Altair and Ezio and Assassin; up here he was Desmond.
"It's the top of the world up here."
Alex gazed outward towards the twinkling squares and rectangles that outlined the skyscrapers of Boston. To their right was the Inner Harbor and beyond was the main harbor. Four centuries of history had played out here on the Massachusetts stage. Patriots and Redcoats had tumbled like chess pieces all along the shores before the act of industry had risen. Before it was the Wampanoag tribes and English settlers carving out complicated and often tightly woven relationships.
Desmond turned his head slightly, attempting to capture a glimpse of the serene expression gracing his partner's face. A faint curve of the lips played upon the fading daylight, erasing the hardships of the last few months. This was the first time she had been able to leave the safehouse since nearly being killed in Quebec.
"No, it's more than that," she shut her eyes embracing the warmth before it eluded them. "It's heaven."
"So uh how are you feeling?"
Alex turned her attention to Desmond who was rubbing his neck in an awkward manner. He was uneasy and anxious. Something was eating him.
"Better now that I can leave the Warden."
"You mean my dad."
"Who else would I be referring to? Shaun just bitched and moaned whenever I tried to get up. He gripes worse than any female I have ever had the pleasure of knowing."
He simply chuckled at her colorful observation. Shaun did do a lot of griping and whining.
"You know this is the first time I have been able to be outside since Quebec? Sure Rebecca opened the windows for me but it couldn't replace the real thing."
The smile faded as the shine in her eyes faded. Desmond watched them track down to sharp white corner poking out from the top of her shirt.
"They told me that the cut was about an inch from my heart. Some of my ribs are cracked and I can feel them pinching me."
Her hand came to rest over the oozing wound; her face contorted in pain as her chest rose up then slowly fell.
"It hurts to breathe."
"Bastard," Desmond cursed Cross for this. For two weeks he had stayed by her bedside; the loyal partner he was. The first week had ranked high on the list of worst weeks of his life. It had been touch and go for her; her blood pressure having dropped dangerously low only to shoot back up in the span of 24 hours. Her skin had been robbed of its essence; a sickening pale hue that aged the woman in the bed.
"I never did thank you," she forced her head up peering into the sweet chocolate rings that were growing confused.
"For what?"
Alex didn't respond with words but with the action of her hands collecting his. She absently traced her fingers over the calloused but skilled fingers, having seen these very hands deliver swift death to many Templar agents.
"You, you saved my life that night."
"Alex," he scooted closer along the concrete surface. "You don't have to thank me for something I would do again and again."
"You stayed there the entire time, refusing to leave. I'm surprised your dad didn't drag you away kicking and screaming. I know how he's always screaming at you about training and living up to your responsibilities."
"Training could wait and besides-"
"Des, your hands are shaking." She lifted away at the first tremble. "Hey what's wrong?" He darted his stare to the waters of the Inner Harbor. "Desmond look at me."
The gentle sliding of her fingers broke his attempt to keep her from seeing, knowing. His head rolled to the will of the warm tender touch until he was looking down into glacial rings.
"What's wrong?"
His heart quickened which flooded the rivers of blue with a deluge of adrenaline. He tongue faltered, going dead in his mouth. He wanted to tell her. He NEEDED to tell her.
"Did something happen when I was recovering?"
The lump swelled in his throat.
"Did your dad do something? Did you do something? Damn it Des talk to me."
Those full lips molded into a small pout. The light brushing of her fingers fanned across his cheek and neck kissing his skin with a light blush along the trail her fingers created.
"You're scaring me Des," his silence was boring into her, creating a thick uneasy sensation that coiled in her stomach. A tear gathered at the corner of her eye, catching the fading rays.
"Hey," he finally spoke up thanks to the gathering liquid diamond. "Nothing happened to anyone."
"Then why won't you talk to me? Did I do something?"
Desmond softly shook his head and collected her face within his hands.
"You haven't done anything."
"Then why are you acting so strange?"
He took a deep breath, hoping to calm and level his nerves. But his hopes faded as his heart was sprinting.
"Des-" She was abruptly silenced with the firm but tender pressure of his lips to hers. Neither one moved, trapped in the moment. He moved first, cautiously pushing tighter against her, hoping he wasn't wrong. Seconds passed and she had not reacted; neither good nor bad. Perhaps he had made a mistake. Maybe she didn't feel the same way. Maybe-
His pathetic musings were halted with the simple carding of her fingers through his hair, bringing him even closer. His hand slowly curled around the back of her neck, circling around the tense skin. A light moan rushed his lips at the firm demanding sweeps of her tongue sweeping over his mouth. Desmond eagerly accepted this, prying his lips apart, letting the small wet muscle massage and tease his larger one. She shivered at the touch of his hands sliding up then down her sides, unintentionally gathering the white shirt between the gaps of his fingers.
The fleeting brushing of his fingertips across her warm supple skin ignited charges of excitement through his entire body. His head was growing light, spinning as things intensified between them.
Alex felt the harsh scraping of bone against muscle as her chest began to heave, the cracked ribs threatening to carve out more of her flesh. She squeezed her eyes tighter, hoping to shield her mind from the ever growing pain. She wanted Desmond; wanted him in every meaning of the word. Aggression blanketed her thoughts, directing her hands up and under the white hoodie and faded black shirt. The gasp of surprise was a pleasant sound, encouraging her on. The copper touched torso was hungrily explored, fingers brushing over the faint pert buds. His blood pressure shot up as his jeans turned uncomfortable. His senses were askew, set adrift in the thick sweet fog of lust.
His hands dared to travel higher, pausing below her breasts. The supple swells were jutting out, practically begging to be touched. Somehow he was able to recall how to move his hands and covered the inviting mounds.
Alex suddenly hissed in pain. The heel of his hand had pressed down on one of the cracked ribs. Desmond was rudely thrust back into reality.
"Hey," Desmond slowly but reluctantly severed their connection leaving a trail of saliva between them but his hands returned to the sides of her face. "You're still hurt."
Alex took a deep breath which turned into a hard sigh. Desmond was right.
"Yeah….." she grimaced at the resurgence of her injuries. "Yeah you're right. And besides we're up on a rooftop where anyone could've had a free show."
Desmond simple chuckled at her comment.
"We should go back," he didn't want to but they needed to.
Alex attempted to stand but clutched her side as another bout of pain ravaged her body. She doubled over but was held upright but Desmond's hands.
"Come on," he offered himself up as support.
"I think I'm gonna need some pain killers."
Drawing the hood around his head, Desmond forced himself to take a step back from the edge and return to the heartbreak that was his reality.
Skylar sat on the edge of her bed, making a final check of her weapons. The sniper rifle was already neatly packed in its case, awaiting its companion to join it. The Walther PPK received its last look over before she nodded in certainty, permitting it to nestle in the rigid foam bed. The simple pleasure of letting a firearm residing in her grip was almost as euphoric as sex. The short hard rush of adrenaline that charged her veins increasing with each pull of the trigger. The pounding of her blood shutting out the rest of the world save for her and her prey. But the feelings were amplified when perched behind the M24 R. Daniel wouldn't tell her this but Skylar could tell he found the sight of a weapon in her hand rather arousing.
Oh what a rush indeed.
"Skye," Daniel strolled through the door. "We need to go." The older Templar noted she was clad in a tight black short sleeved shirt that was jacketed with a tactical vest. Her lower body covered in heavy duty cargo pants with black steel toed boots complimenting the ensemble.
"Vidic bitching already?" Sarcasm was her second language.
"No," he shook his head. "The Assassins are already in mid flight to Odessa."
"Bastards," she growled with a snap of the case. "Well then shall we go?"
The wicked smile crossed his lips; a victory this was. The hatred ingrained into her mind had drilled deeper inside; no hesitation on her part.
She slung the bag across her chest, a fresh infusion of pain killers and prescription drugs courtesy of the Abstergo medical team. Dr. Sung had cleared her to be on this mission but not without some insurance that Skylar wouldn't experience any setbacks.
The SUV sat idling in the parking bay with driver and three recruits seated in the front. The back door clicked which was quickly lifted. It was an unspoken rule that no one touched Skylar's cases unless it was Daniel. The last recruit that made that foolish error nearly lost a hand from the latter's hidden blade.
Both occupied the very back seat as the Suburban pulled from the sidewalk blending into the evening ritual known as Rush Hour. The latest model of Fiat mingled with diesel truck and foreign imports with the sleek Suburban being one of many mechanical insects marching through the urban jungle.
All Skylar could think about the entire journey to the airport was what she wanted to do to Desmond and William Miles. Perhaps something subtle: A swift blow to the jaw would suit or maybe a few belts to the ribs, cracking one or two in the process. No matter though; one way or the other she would get what she wanted.
It was understood, however, Vidic would want to "interrogate" each before turning them over to her. He was obsessed over the Pieces of Eden like a pathetic man hopelessly addicted to porn. The idea made Skylar shudder in disgust. Whatever the old man carried out in his quarters after hours could stay in his quarters for all she cared. Seriously, he always leered at the various artifacts recovered the same way an 18 year old reacted to his first Playboy.
Shaking her mind free of the perverted invasions, her attention resumed to the sharp spires and ornately decorated rooftops and towers that signified the Vatican. Such fools those bloated bastards! They were permitted to think they were in control of their own destiny! Egotistical idiots! Nothing more than puppets for unseen puppet masters.
"Alright, Harlan has the location of the artifact pinpointed to this location."
William thrust the iPad into Desmond's unsuspecting hands. The younger Miles was slow to accept the device but could see the map with a virtual tack, marking the The School of Stolyarsky as their destination.
"It's part of an exhibit in the center library, resting in an Ancient Greek carving unearthed from the area recently."
"So what is this place a private school?" His son inquired in a boring tone.
"A private school?! You really think this place is a private school?! It happens to be the premiere music school for children! It was established in 1933 by Pyotor Stolyarsky! And you have no idea who that is do you? Your lack of culture is pathetic."
"Shaun," Rebecca jumped in.
"What?! It's nothing more than observation." The Brit huffed and went rigid in his seat.
"Right," she didn't trust his "observation." Leave it to Shaun to hurl insults.
"Alright that's enough," William chided both like misbehaving children. "Once we land we'll head to the safe house and set up."
Desmond didn't hear his dad's words as they simply slipped from one ear through the other. His mind was traveling down the road called revenge. Day upon day was consumed with thinking and waiting for his opportunity to appear. The hidden blade rested flush with his forearm, patiently awaiting the chance to taste Cross's blood. Only then would he allow himself to breathe.