October 1, 2012

-/-

He makes it through a month of animus fuelled nightmares and sleepless nights before Desmond decides he has a question that really can't wait any longer for an answer. By this time he's squatting in the basement of a ruined Italian villa that used to be the home of another of his ancestors, Ezio Auditore. Desmond likes going through Ezio's memories because they don't mean anything to him. It's a lot less complicated.

But he has questions he really needs the answers to, if only for his own peace of mind. So one night, after hours of tossing and turning on a rough stone floor in what feels like the world's cheapest sleeping bag, he gets up to see who's still asleep. Lucy and Rebecca are his first and second choices. Lucy likes him (maybe even as much as he likes her), and he thinks he could probably convince Rebecca to do him a favor.

So of course Shaun is the only one awake when Desmond gets up. He glances over at Desmond, scowls, and asks "What are you doing up?"

"Can't sleep," Desmond says. He does his best to sound casual, but Shaun clearly isn't buying it. He puts down the document he's been squinting at and turns around in his chair.

"Trust me," he says. "If you're having problems, I'm not the one you want to talk to about it."

This is fine with Desmond, who has no desire to share his feelings with the other man, but it does give him an idea. "You sure?" he asks.

"Very sure."

"Oh," Desmond says, and waits just long enough for Shaun to turn around and get back to work before adding, "Are you sure? Because there's something I saw in the animus a while ago that's really been bothering me, and I thought, you know, maybe if I talk it out with someone it'll make more sense. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'd rather be talking to Lucy, but she's asleep-"

"Fine!" Shaun throws up his hands. "Listen, if this is an animus issue, why don't I just stick you in and you can figure it out yourself? And stop bothering me while I'm trying to work, maybe?"

Desmond just barely manages to hide his grin. Victory.

"So this is an Ezio memory?" Shaun asks, leaning over Rebecca's computer.

"Altair," Desmond corrects. "He would have been four- almost five."

"Huh." Shaun finishes whatever he's doing to set up the memory and steps back. "Well if you want to run around in a toddler's memories instead of getting some real sleep, that's fine by me. Just do it quiet, yea?"

"Yea," Desmond says, and climbs into the animus chair.

"Oh-" Shaun hesitates before starting the last sequence of commands that will get the animus booting up. He actually looks legitimately worried. "And don't tell Rebecca, alright? She gets really upset when anyone else messes with her animus."

"Sure," Desmond says, and Shaun nods. That's the last thing he sees before the familiar boot up screen of the animus.

The memory comes up almost immediately. Altair, looking exactly the same as Desmond remembers him from the day they first met, is alone somewhere in Masyaf. It's dark, but Desmond can feel wind, so he knows it's outside somewhere. And Altair is huddled against the wall, pushing his back against it with a special kind of intensity that tells Desmond he's worried about falling. The older Altair, the one whose memories Desmond went through as Abstergo's prisoner, has no fear of heights. But fearlessness isn't the kind of thing anyone's born with, and Altair hasn't developed it this early.

He's crying. Desmond can feel tears on his cheeks, and a tightness in his chest that means Altair's been crying for a while now. He doesn't know what the tears are for, but one thing he learned over the ten months Altair was with him is that kids cry a lot, even kids being raised as assassins. The only difference is that assassins learn to cry alone, which is probably why Altair's climbed something tall in the middle of the night to do it in private.

Something makes a sound behind him.

The boy makes a noise that can only be described as a squeak and tilts dangerously, almost falling. At the last second, an arm reaches out and grabs hold of the boy. Altair clings to it for several seconds before eventually, slowly, letting go. He scoots backward again until he's wedged into the same corner he started in, and studies his rescuer with wide eyes. It's a woman, but not like any other woman he's ever seen. She's tall, and sort of… glows. Altair stares at her, and Desmond can feel the hesitation and confusion practically radiating off him in waves.

His own feelings are a lot closer to downright shock, because he recognizes the woman. She's the same one he's seen in Ezio's memories, in the hidden room under the Vatican. Minerva, she called herself. But what is she doing here?

She doesn't speak, and after a minute or so Altair manages to stammer out- "Wh- what are you doing here?"

Minerva doesn't answer, doesn't even look at him. Instead, she stares over him, at someone or something he can't see. But he can hear a voice, a man's this time, floating out of the darkness like some kind of spirit. Altair twists around- carefully, so he doesn't fall this time- but doesn't see anything.

"Minerva," the voice says. "Your mission was to observe the timelines. Not to interfere."

"It is one child." Minerva's voice is dismissive. "He would not have fallen if I had not appeared. I merely corrected the mistake."

"Hmm." Altair shivers as the ghostly voice echoes again. "Perhaps you were not ready for this assignment. Return home and we will reevaluate your position."

"But, Tinia-" Minerva scowls, and it strikes Desmond that she looks much younger than when Ezio saw her.

"No," says the voice. "Mapping the timelines is a job that takes the utmost self-control, and I don't think you're up to the task. Now come back."

Minerva sighs, but a moment later her image starts to flicker out. "No!" Altair yells, and jumps to his feet. "Wait!" He stumbles, starts to fall again, and reaches out. At the last possible second, just before she vanishes, Altair's reaching fingers close around Minerva's arm.

For a second, all of time and space flashes in front of them, and then Altair gets a glimpse of a room filled with cold metal and strange glowing lights. A large man (maybe the man with the angry voice?) stands at the front of the room, glaring at Minerva as she steps out of a strange machine. Desmond wonders if it might be sort of like an animus, but made for seeing the future instead of the past.

But this scene lasts for only a second. Then Altair, terrified by everything he's seeing, lets go of Minerva's arm. As soon as he does, he goes spinning off through time again. Desmond recognizes a lot more of what he sees than Altair- men with guns lying in trenches, an astronaut taking his first steps on the moon, a group of samurai fighting with swords- but not all of it is familiar to him.

Then, abruptly, it all stops, and Altair lands on something soft. Well- relatively soft. Desmond never could afford a decent mattress, and there's no doubt that Altair has somehow, through some miracle of time and space, found himself in the apartment. Back in the world outside the animus, Desmond can hear Shaun swear and run off to wake Lucy and Rebecca. He doesn't pay any attention; he finds himself fixated on the memory instead. He's seen it from one point of view already, but it looks like now he'll get to see it from Altair's as well. It's definitely the weirdest thing he's ever been through in the animus.

Altair shivers, and curls himself into a ball in the corner where the bed meets the wall. He buries his head in his arms and spends a long time trying not to cry. After a while, he pulls a blanket off the end of the bed and wraps it around himself, hiding as best he can.

Desmond can hear voices outside the animus by this time- not just Shaun's, but Lucy's and Rebecca's as well. Rebecca still sounds half asleep- even something like this isn't enough to wake her up. Then again, from what Desmond's seen of her so far, only coffee is really capable of doing that.

"What's going on?" That's Lucy's voice- anxious, concerned that something's gone wrong. "Is Desmond okay?"

"What?" And that's Shaun. "Yea, I guess he's fine."

"Why are we all awake, then?" Rebecca grumbles. It's really more of a mumble, to be honest. Desmond can barely make the words out over the sound of a huge yawn.

"Listen," Shaun says. "It's not Desmond. It's this memory-"

"Why is he in the animus at all?" Lucy asks. "He's in it enough during the day- the last thing we need is an extra session in the middle of the night! What were you thinking?"

"He came to me and asked for it," Shaun says. It's the first time Desmond's ever heard him raise his voice, and Lucy falls silent. "But look- it's one of Altair's memories. It's from when he was really young, like four or five or something. And-"

"Hang on." This time it's Rebecca that interrupts, and she sounds a lot more awake. Desmond can tell by the direction her voice is coming from that she's stepped over to her computer. "Shaun, what am I looking at here? You said it's an Altair memory, but-"

"But this is modern," Shaun finishes. "Yea, I know."

"Where is this?" Lucy asks. "An apartment somewhere?"

"Look," Shaun says. "Someone's coming in."

By this time, Altair has managed to almost cry himself to sleep, but his eyes shoot open when a stranger comes through the door. Altair watches as he strips out of his clothes and pulls on fresh pants. He's about to put on a shirt as well when Altair shifts on the bed and the man freezes. Altair tenses, readying himself to jump off the bed and run at the first sign of danger. But when the man finally turns around, Altair finds himself too frozen to move. Even when he curses (Altair doesn't know the word, but the tone of voice is impossible to mistake).

"No way," Shaun says, but he's the only one that speaks. Other than his voice, the room is dead silent. It's not just the silence of people that don't happen to be talking- it's the absolute stillness of people too shocked to move, much less speak.

Altair is staring, eyes wide as saucers, at the Desmond in the memory, leaving the present day Desmond with the uncomfortable feeling of looking himself in the eye. He can feel Altair trembling, completely uncertain what to do. It's not until past Desmond sighs and lets his angry expression soften a little that Altair acts. By this point, he's desperate. He's seen too much already tonight, he has no idea where he is, and he badly needs a friendly face. At this point, he'll take a face that isn't angry.

Altair lets out a strangled sounding sob and leaps at past Desmond, who manages to catch him just before Altair dissolves into a huge mess of tears. Somehow, in the time it takes him to run out of tears, he ends up curled against the man in bed, still lonely and homesick and upset, but feeling a little safer than when he was alone.

Past Desmond says something to him. Altair doesn't know the language, but he takes the opportunity to ask all the questions that have been boiling just under the panic in his head since he got here. "Where am I?" he asks. "Who are you? How did I get here? Can-" he swallows down new tears. "Can I go home?"

Altair doesn't understand any of the answer, but he hears 'Desmond' twice, and guesses that maybe it's his name. "My name's Altair," he says.

"Altair," past Desmond repeats, and Altair nods. That's about the time when the two of them start to nod off, and the memory ends.

-/-

October 1, 2012 (Later)

-/-

They're all staring at him when he comes out of the animus, but Shaun's the first one to speak. Desmond's not surprised- he's known the man less than a month, but it's not hard to figure out that the man talks when he's nervous.

"Were you going to mention this?" he demands. "Ever?"

"No," Desmond says. "But…" But he needed to know more than he needed to keep Altair a secret.

"Desmond…" Lucy's voice is barely audible. "I am so sorry."

"Yea." He shrugs. "Me too."

"Did you know?" Shaun asks. "Who he was? Where he was from?"

"Not until Abstergo snatched me," Desmond says. "I knew there was something different about him, and I knew he was being raised as an assassin. But the rest of it was a surprise."

"How long was he with you?" Rebecca asks- her first words since Desmond came out of the animus.

"Ten months, more or less," Desmond says. "The last time I saw him was the same day Abstergo came for me. They were…" he hesitates, then realizes there's no way to say this that won't sound stupid, and goes on. "They were the best ten months of my life."

Lucy shoots the other two a significant look, and they back off, leaving her and Desmond alone. They don't look happy about it, but they go. When it's just the two of them, Lucy asks, "Do you want to talk about it?"

Desmond doesn't answer right away. He's never talked about any of this before. Sure, there were people in his life that knew about Altair when he lived in New York. His boss. A couple of neighbors. But Desmond never told any of them more than the barest details, because he knows how insane most of it would sound. Then again- this seems like a good time for crazy.

"When I was on my own, my life was a complete mess," Desmond says. "I didn't have anything to live for, so I didn't care what I did with my life. You told me you looked at my file- I'm sure whoever put it together mentioned that."

But Lucy shakes her head. "They didn't even know about you until about a week before they sent in a team to get you. Your information got into some database, and after that, they didn't waste any time."

"I was wondering about that," Desmond says. "How they found me. I mean, I was careful. Nine years of fake names and getting paid under the table, and then-" he stops abruptly, because he's just figured it out. "Oh," he says. "I am an idiot."

"You're not-"

"I got too comfortable. With Altair, I thought…" he can't quite meet Lucy's eyes. "I thought maybe I could have a normal life. I got my act together. I'd just been hired in a new job. And I put Altair into Kindergarten."

He glances at Lucy just in time to see her smile. "You signed the most infamous assassin of the last millennium up for Kindergarten?"

Desmond tries to scowl, but she's right. It is a little unexpected, and he finds himself smiling himself. Just a little. "Yea," he admits. "He was pretty against it at first, but I mean, you should have seen him after his first day."

"I wish I could have," Lucy says, and sighs. "Trust me, you're not the only one that wants a normal life." By this point, they're sitting side by side on two of the folding chairs they brought down to the basement. Desmond reaches out and takes her hand. They sit like this for several minutes before Lucy manages another question. "What was he like?"

"Weirdest kid I ever met," Desmond says. "I mean- I guess I know why now. It can't be easy to just skip nine centuries in about half an hour."

"Probably not," Lucy agrees.

"But he was happy," Desmond says. "Most of the time. And he definitely knew what he wanted out of life. He told me once that he wanted to become the best assassin ever."

"Looks like he got what he wanted," Lucy says.

"Yea…" Desmond frowns. "Is it horrible to say that I wish he hadn't?"

-/-

October- Date Unknown

-/-

It's easy for Desmond to lose track of time when he can't leave the animus, and he's been trapped in the machine for a while- ever since he found the apple in Rome, and it used him to kill Lucy. Or he killed Lucy. He's still not sure what the difference is, or if it even matters.

But finally- finally- it looks like he'll be getting out soon. He's been following Ezio as his ancestor hunts down the keys he needs to unlock Altair's library under Masyaf, and they've finally reached that point. Ezio has said his final goodbyes to the order that's shaped most of his life. This is it- Desmond knows this is it.

But then Ezio turns to leave the library, and Desmond… doesn't. He looks around warily, but after Ezio leaves the room, he's completely alone. It's weird, but then- what isn't these days. At least he's in his own body now, instead of one of his ancestors'. It makes for a nice change, Desmond reflects as he wanders the ruins of Masyaf. There has to be a reason for this to suddenly happen, and it doesn't take him long to find that reason.

Altair's standing on the second floor landing of the keep when Desmond makes it to the front door. He looks only half solid, like the ghosts Desmond's gotten used to seeing from the Bleeding Effect, but the Bleeding Effect doesn't usually trouble him while he's still in the animus.

Altair has his eyes closed, and an apple cupped between his hands. Desmond hesitates, then takes the stairs up. He makes it to within a yard of Altair before he suddenly stops. The scenery around him shifts, from ruined Masyaf to the whole version from Altair's memories, and finally to the bare island of the animus's core programming. Out of habit, Desmond looks around for Clay, and is more than a little relieved to not see him there.

Altair opens his eyes and takes in their surroundings without letting his expression change at all. Desmond waits in silence. He's not sure what's going on here, and he's more than happy to let Altair take the lead here.

Altair looks tired and sad and a lot less confident than Desmond is used to seeing him as he says, "I wasn't sure I'd be able to do this." He's looking at the apple instead of at Desmond. Desmond looks straight at him- this version of Altair is about the same age as the one from the memories Desmond went through back at Abstergo. And actually- he looks at the dirt and bloodstains on Altair's robes, glances at his injuries, and decides that it might have been only hours for Altair since he killed Al Mualim.

Time travel- he is so, so done with time travel.

"Yea?" Desmond asks. He hesitates, because he's not quite sure which question to ask first. He settles on "What exactly did you do?"

"Ah…" Altair studies the island. "I have no idea. But-" he takes a deep breath and gestures to the apple. "I was looking at this and I thought, well, it can do a lot of impossible things, right? And I wanted to know if you were real."

"If I- what?" Somehow, this isn't at all what he was expecting.

"It was one year a long time ago," Altair says. "I was young, and when I went home…" he shrugs. "There were other things to worry about, and after a while, the whole thing seemed like a dream."

"Oh," Desmond says. "It's only been a couple months for me. I mean- a long couple months, but still…" And somehow, he ends up telling Altair everything that's happened. At the end of it, they stand in silence for a long time. It's been months since Desmond's seen Altair, and years since he's seen Desmond. They're both different people than they were when they shared a tiny apartment in New York, and if Desmond had to guess, he would have expected this to be incredibly awkward. It's not.

"That's a very strange story," Altair says at last.

"Yea," Desmond agrees. "I know, I lived it." He doesn't want to talk about it anymore, so he changes the subject. "How did you get back?" he asked. "When they came after me, you were already gone."

"The same way I got there in the first place," Altair says. "A woman that looked like she was made of light came after me. I got the impression they hadn't planned on me ending up in 2011. So she took me home and that was the end of it, until now."

"First civilization," Desmond sighs. "I'm starting to think they were all insane."

The light around them is getting thinner. Either the apple's running out of juice, or Desmond's about to be pulled out of the animus. Whichever it is, it's obvious they're almost out of time.

"So I guess this is goodbye," Desmond says. Altair nods, just once. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For…" for (almost literally) falling into his life last November. For giving him a reason not to kill himself with alcohol poisoning. For coming back to say goodbye. "You know. Stuff."

"Yea," Altair says. "You too. Thanks for…"

"Stuff?" Desmond supplies.

Altair smiles, and for a second his face looks more like the four year old's than the master assassin's.

Then Desmond wakes up, all the way up, out of the animus and back into the real world. He feels a lot better than he has since before Abstergo took him. It might have been easy to explain that last scene as a creation of the animus, but Desmond doesn't believe it. Earlier, he'd told Lucy he wished Altair hadn't gotten his wish, hadn't grown up to become a master assassin.

He realizes he's okay with it now, realizes that he wasn't so much upset to see Altair all grown up and become an assassin. He just doesn't know how to cope with seeing a kid that used to rely on him suddenly so… different.

Only, maybe he's not as different after all. It hasn't escaped Desmond's notice that less than a day after Altair kills his mentor and father figure, the man's going out of his way to talk to him. And so they've said goodbye- with all the other insanities in his life right now, he has no problem believing they'll see each other again.