What he wasn't expecting was to wake up, again, staring at himself in the mirror with blood all over what appeared to be golden armor he was wearing. He blinked, frowning. It was a dark, sticky-looking concoction, dirt making it thick and pasty like bad movie graphics. And it was all over the armor.

"Fuck, can't I just stay dead?" he hissed, straightening and taking stock of his situation.

He had a spear in his hand, the Staff at his back, and he could feel the power of the Pieces of Eden flowing through him, filling him. Gauntlets, breastplates, a helmet, and more, he had an entire set of armor that seemed to conform to his body as he tested it.

"Not yet," he heard a familiar voice say, and he looked to see Desmond sitting on the sink top, arms crossed. He looked much older than twenty-two. "I'm not that good. I need your help, and since you're me, we can merge together, right?"

"Where are we?" he growled as he noticed the ruined bathroom, the eviscerated Abstergo goons lying on the floor.

"Abstergo. Juno partnered with Rikkin. I'm not strong enough by myself, even with the armor of the gods and your training. I didn't let them put me in the Animus, like you said."

Des frowned, gesturing to the filthy armor. "So these are Pieces of Eden?"

"Hey, I followed your instructions to the letter, and Minerva taught me how to bring you back," the boy (ha! Boy? Always. He was Des's boy) snapped with a scowl, and Des snorted.

"Hey, if you're done talking to yourself in there, we could use some help," he heard, and he spun around.

Clay was standing there, clutching a bloody shoulder as he staggered in with Lucy's help. Both looked frazzled, and neither one of them looked happy to hear him talking to himself. Of course, that wasn't anything new. He paced over and took Clay from Lucy as she started rummaging through a small backpack she was carrying full of supplies. He helped him sit against the wall before cutting his shirt off. Desmond was watching him from the counter as he did this, silent, until he looked at the boy-man and looked proud.

"Clay? Lucy?"

"They're alive," Desmond said, "and they're our lovers."

His eyes flew open. "You're kidding."

"Hey, Wonder Twins, get your shit together," Clay snapped as Lucy sighed, pulling out scissors, tweezers, and some thread.

"Clay, come on—"

"We're losing the bathroom! How are we gonna get to Juno if we lose the bathroom and our lives?" Clay hissed, and Lucy frowned at him as she pulled out the tiny bottle of hydrogen peroxide.

"We can do this."

"No," Des said, gripping the spear tighter as Desmond began to fade.

"We'll talk more later," Desmond murmured, grinning. "Just aim for the Eye."

Des quirked an eyebrow but said nothing more to him as he faded. He could feel the familiar padding accompanying the sensation of Desmond joining him in his mind, just like the bleeding effect but better. Rebecca and Shaun were coming; there were twenty or so men outside the bathroom trying to get in even though he had overridden the lock on the door, and they were one floor away from Rikkin and Juno. Perfect for him, not for the goons. He looked around the bathroom, at the destroyed stall doors and the bodies slumped over the toilets, the sinks missing chunks and the soap dispensers hanging open like the mouths of astonished spectators, and could hear the doorway trying to be overridden. Lucy was frowning at him. He was back. He was back again, in a solid body, with the young boy he had spent so much time with who was now a man (now himself). And none of his ancestors.

"Did you even hear anything I said?" she hissed as she worked with Clay's shoulder.

"No," Des repeated, starting toward the door. "No, I didn't need to. You get the hell out of here. I'm going to take care of Juno and Rikkin."

"Not by yourself you aren't!" Lucy snapped. "What if—"

"Get yourselves and everyone else out of here. When I destroy the Eye, there's going to be the equivalent of a nuclear explosion according to history, and if the Eye is destroyed, then the armor will be destroyed as well and—"

He didn't know why he was saying this. He was destined to die, it seemed, just when everything looked better. He scowled. Clay looked like he was in severe pain, probably was, and he needed to get out of here. This was not going to be a clean ending. None of his endings were. Not even as he wore the alleged "armor of God."

"A chain reaction of nuclear explosions," he growled. "Get everyone you can as far away from here as you can."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" Clay snarled, and Des was getting antsy. He could hear them getting closer to breaking down the door. "We just finished collecting them!"

"I'm going to destroy all of this. All… all the Pieces of Eden. They're all gathered here. All forty-eight of them now, and I'm going to completely destroy all of them. That's the equivalent of forty-eight nuclear explosions in one tiny area. Got it? Then let the schizo do his work," he responded, narrowing his eyes at Clay, who seemed genuinely shocked.

"You're not the same person," the man muttered, and Des sneered. "Wait, Des? You stopped fading? Minvera's trick really worked?"

"I always knew you were a clever son of a bitch. You can ask the other Desmond that, too."

"Other… Desmond?" Lucy questioned as Clay's face split in glee.

"Des!"

"You just called us Wonder Twins."

"That was nickname for you since you first hooked up with me."

Des walked over to the door as he looked at Clay with a grimace and a nod, feeling the spear charge beneath his fingers, and he gave his best battle cry as the bathroom opened.

Thirty men were a joke with his skill and his armor.

He watched Shaun and Rebecca come running into the hallway as he stood there, frowning at the bodies. He could feel the blood sliding down his cheek and into the armor, fighting the urge laugh at how messily they had died. They put up a good struggle, but they relied too heavily on gun power. That was too easy. He nodded a greeting and walked the other direction, to the last staircase and to his final destination.

"Get them out of here and clear the area," he called over his shoulder. "I'm nuking this place."

He entered the stairwell and paced up the stairs. It was eerily silent.

"Thanks," Desmond said, and he glanced at the now-grown boy as they walked together. "Looks like we still lost in the end, didn't we?"

Des paused, smiling sadly. "Yeah, but at this point I just want to rest forever. I'll have died four times."

The boy looked at him. "Sorry for bringing you back again after you faded out. It was fun, you know, living our life. It was great until Rikkin came to power and partnered with Juno."

Des inhaled. He remembered releasing her. His mini me had done him proud. With a nod, he tightened his hold on the spear and finished walking up the stairs with purpose. They reached the door shortly after, and he was surprised to find someone looking a little like the hologram of Minerva waiting there with a frown.

"It was all I could give you to right the wrongs you brought by unleashing Juno," the woman said, her image shorting out.

Des quirked an eyebrow when he saw the Piece of Eden flickering there, in the wall. Nevertheless, he nodded once.

"Thanks. I think it's time we end this for good, don't you think?"

Minerva snorted, and Des rolled his eyes. Desmond was gone.

"It will never end, not so long as—"

"Just shut up," he growled, already tired of listening to her. "I'm here, all right? You know, Shaun once said something interesting to me. He said that human nature is man's tendency to destroy himself. Well, I'm gonna say he's right. It's gonna happen, again and again, and we won't be able to stop it, but I'm here to right the fact that I let Juno out, okay? Be happy with what you can get because either option wasn't going to end well."

Minerva was silent, the image flickering in and out.

"How the hell are you here, anyway?"

"Punishment," Minerva hissed, "twisted retribution for abandoning Juno, according to her."

"That makes two of us who can't stay dead," Des said with a huff as he placed an armored hand on the entry pad and watched the door slide open.

He was surprised to find a large, open office, with red carpeting and shelves lined with the Pieces. He stepped in, hearing the door shut as Minerva wished him the best, and stood there. It was sparse in the huge room. There was a large desk at the far end, and entire wall of windows, and he could see Juno standing near one of them, watching him with a disgustingly warm smile. An imposing, black, leather chair behind the desk kept the person, Alan Rikkin, faced away from him.

"You came," the man in the chair said, and Des stepped forward.

"I told you he would. Now is our last chance to persuade him, Alan," Juno said, stepping toward Des with her arms outstretched. "He looks like a warrior in the armor: a perfect poster child for the new world."

"I'm not joining anybody," Des growled, lifting the spear into an alarmingly familiar stance.

"Stop your childish fantasies, Juno," the man in the chair growled. "I have seen it. We are going to lose."

Juno frowned at the man in the chair as the chair spun around. Des snarled as he crouched into a fighting position. The man was young and in a black suit, with short black hair that was slicked back and with an eye that was a creepy bluish grey, cold and icy.

His other was the fabled Eye of Horus from the Egyptians.

It was pressed into his skin, replacing his other eye. Stark gold color shone brilliantly against pale skin, and the whole thing almost seemed to fit into his head perfectly, the tails of gold pressed tightly into him and probably welded there. He could feel the power flowing through it from where he was, could see the device working. Juno looked less than pleased when Rikkin rose.

"Then why do I get the feeling that you won't just let me kill you?" he growled.

Rikkin smirked, pulling out the Sword from behind his desk. Desmond could see the helicopter flying off outside the building. The others had probably gone to the roof for the chopper instead of all thirty-something floors to escape.

"You had me worried, at first," Rikkin said, looking over the sword with a fond look. "I thought that Juno's gift had been broken. You see, I looked ahead to the future to my death, and I saw us linked together in a battle of arms. It was absolutely horrifying and utterly thrilling all at the same time."

Des growled as Rikkin stepped around to the front of his desk, testing the Sword lightly.

"And then you died the first time in the temple, and I knew something had gone wrong. Imagine my relief when I saw you brought back to life by your friends. They're excellent friends, you know. Very loyal. Perfect subjects, don't you think? They could have been your disciples."

Des stood straight, narrowing his eyes at the knowing smile Rikkin sent his way. Juno was watching off to the side, frowning.

"But then you got hit by a car. I was extremely disappointed in you. I thought you had broken Juno's gift yet again."

He snorted, adjusting his feet a little bit apart and letting the spear dangle at the side. If the Eye of Horus said Rikkin was going to die, Des was going to let the man talk. Besides, it was an interesting account, and he would be the only one to ever hear it, and he had to give Lucy and the others time to get farther away.

"Nevertheless, Minerva did something, and we're still not sure what, but she brought you back. She has faith in you."

Des sneered.

"I have faith in you. I know you're going to kill me and Juno."

"The Eye of Horus is not always right," Juno hissed. "It was meant to guide."

"The Eye of Horus is the see all, end all," Rikkin responded, lifting the sword into a novice's fighting pose. Des crouched. "I'm not a skilled fighter. Not like you. But I will fight until my last breath, Miles, so prepare."

"You're a novice still: where are your greys?" he heard himself ask, wanting to laugh as he remembered all the novices he had trained over his many lifetimes.

Rikkin laughed. "Ah, yes, the fabled Bleeding Effect remakes your personality no matter what life it is. Will it help you or harm you in our fight?"

"It's saved me plenty of times," Des hissed, beginning to circle. "And their souls are no longer with me, though their cheek and talents are."

He could see the power in Rikkin's stride, despite his novice stance, and he knew that Rikkin was more powerful than he had initially thought. A good ploy, but not good enough. Silence reigned for several minutes as they silently assessed each other.

"Will you please get on with the fight before I take matters into my own hands?"

"Yes, we all know how well you can fight, Juno," Rikkin said with a snort. "You used to spar with me. I know how you fight."

"He does not."

"I'm sure I'll fight you anyway, Juno," Des said. "Get a ticket and get in line. Don't you know anything about final bosses?" he continued, but it wasn't really him. He could feel Desmond speaking, drawing out the conversation. "Final bosses always have multiple stages. I'm fully expecting to fight Rikkin, then the both of you, and then you take him over completely, and we fight you before we get the chance to destroy either Piece of Eden. That's how these things work."

"We?" Juno asked, looking decidedly curious and pissed off.

"Oh, yeah," Des said, "you didn't know? There's two of me in one body." He grinned toothily. "So it's technically it's a fair fight, two versus two."

"What does that mean?" Rikkin asked.

"He's stalling, Alan," Juno hissed. "Start the fight."

"This is my last conversation, Juno—"

"You could be wrong!" Juno snarled. "The Eye of Horus is—"

"The eye to the future," Desmond supplied, more than willing to help with the vicious cycle of self-fulfilling prophecy, upbeat and perky and the both of them laughed internally at the look that scrawled across Juno's face.

Des sneered again. The chopper was relatively small now, so he could fight in knowing they were out of the building.

"I've been waiting for this for a long time now," Des huffed, and with a barked laugh, he found himself flying forward to meet the Templar in a clash of weapons.

He felt the jolt of the Sword when it struck his spear, heard the ring of the weapons in his ears. He snarled, backing off and swinging down the hooked end of the spear before ducking under the swing. He clashed weapons with him again, feeling the power transfer from the Sword to its brethren, and he drove the butt of the spear down in vain attempt to strike Rikkin's foot. Although, remarkably, Rikkin was right: he wasn't a good fighter. But he did pack a punch.

It was almost painful to act worse than he actually was, to drag the fight out longer to give the others more time, ducking and weaving, poking and prodding, but never actually landing that final blow. It was nearly antagonizing to not be able to just flip the man over and ram the spear through his skull for the sickening crunch that would come with it.

Nevertheless, it was still disappointing at how quickly he had the man disarmed and on his back when he finally grew bored of pretending. With a sick grin, Des watched him.

"You weren't kidding. You do suck at fighting," Des said with a chuckle.

Rikkin laughed from his spot on the floor, pushing himself up and leaning back on his elbows. With a warcry, Juno rushed at him, and Des twirled around, avoiding the slice of the sword as he swept the ground with the spear in an attempt to knock her off her feet. She gracefully avoided it, and he snarled. He wasn't going to win if she fought.

But the Eye of Horus should make quite a nice blast.

As Juno swung at him again, he jumped out of the way and backed in an arc until he was in between her and the man. Then, with a twisted grin as Juno realized the mistake, Des laughed, spinning on his heel as he raised his spear, watching with sick satisfaction as he stepped forward enough to drive the spear into the man's eye, hearing the crack of the metal and the sudden pressure change of the atmosphere as the man jerked as if dying, and Des watched the body explode.

But as silence and darkness overtook him, at least he could say it was less painful than the other times he had died.

And when he opened his eyes again, he was finally in Heaven, in Paradise, in wherever spirits went when they were dead. He would find out soon enough. The bed was comfortable; the sheets were silk, and his pillow was down. His bed had a canopy with the wispy white curtains and the window open to let in the soft golden light of the sun, the cool early morning breeze, the smell of the sea, which meant he was by a beach, and there were white fluffy clouds rolling along in the sky. He could hear the gulls screeching in the background, the quiet beginnings of the city waking. The walls were a soothing peach with white trimming, and he closed his eyes again with a smile. He was dead. He was free.

"How are you still here."

His eyes snapped open, and he looked to the doorway.

Only to see his father, Clay, Lucy, Shaun, and Rebecca standing there.

He wondered if it was too much to stay dead. He sighed heavily, lifting a hand to run through his hair. This room was Heaven. Perhaps they had all died as well.

"Why did you rescue me?" he responded, frowning. "You know, after dying four times, I think I've earned my eternal slumber."

"Four times?" his father asked, stepping over to frown at him, placing a hand on his forehead. "You've 'died' once—"

"Actually, no," he could hear himself say, but not actually say himself as he jerked away. It must be Desmond. "He did die four times. He died the first time a long time ago, like, thirty million years ago, the old codger—"

"Hey!" Des snapped, sitting up as he felt control taken from him.

"—and then again when he committed suicide, and then again when he released Juno a second time after helping me, and then again when he killed Rikkin and Juno."

His father was frowning, staring at him intently. Des raised an eyebrow as he adjusted to sit up more comfortably. He felt good. He felt well-rested and content as if he was finally living the good life. He looked out the window to see seagulls flying, and his eyes closed as he inhaled deeply, listening to their screeches and the early morning murmurs of the beach-goers. The breeze caressed his face, made him smile softly as it curled around his head and down his neck, tickling his arms and playing lightly across his chest.

"Gotta problem?" he finally asked quietly, reveling in the utter contentment he felt.

"I told you, Wonder Twins," Clay said, his shoulder still bandaged up tightly as he settled on the bed. "He talked to himself in the bathroom, too. Then again, it's nice to see the two of you again. Oh, and, congratulations on wiping out half of Italy, by the way."

Des's eyes shot open wide as he looked at the one-time Subject Sixteen. His mouth was dry, and his stomach, clenched. He knew that there would be considerable damage from the explosions, but half of Italy wasn't worth it.

"Don't listen to him—"

"Yeah, once you blew up Abstergo, which we have on film might I add, the blast was powerful enough it triggered the volcanoes there. Did you know how powerful those volcanoes are—"

"Desmond," Lucy said, joining him on the bed as well as Shaun and Rebecca walked over. "You did not wipe out half of Italy."

"Of course," Shaun griped, "you wiped out only a half a dozen cities around there."

Des's mouth closed, and his lips pursed before turning into a frown. He looked at Clay, who was wearing an infuriating smirk. Then, he sighed, closed his eyes, and turned his face toward the window again, feeling another breeze enter with another breath full of strong sea air.

"Dick," he muttered, and Clay laughed.

"Was he like that, too, in your time?" he heard the little Desmond ask, and he nodded, glancing out at the others from his lounging against the headboard.

"Yeah. He hasn't changed at all—well, except for the fact that he's no longer painting Abstergo in his own blood. You know, nothing major."

The others were watching him with suspicious curiosity, and Des closed his eyes again, sighing.

"I wish I were dead. For real. No more of this stupid 'alive again' stuff."

There was a heavy silence in the room for a minute before he opened his eyes and looked around. If Abstergo was officially gone, then the assassins were in control again. It was just a cycle, something that humans did. Lucy was watching him from his left with his father, and Clay was on his right. Shaun and Rebecca were standing at the foot of the bed.

"Well," Shaun started, "it'd be all fine and dandy if you were dead—if we didn't need someone who knew how to run this bloody Order."

He wrinkled his nose halfheartedly. He had led four lifetimes full of death and pain, and all he wanted was to rest. "What?"

"Congrats, Mentor," Rebecca said softly.

He was silent for a moment before he sighed, closing his eyes again. He wasn't going to enjoy this in the slightest, but he supposed his lineage could do nothing more than lead the Order. They were incompetent, and perhaps they needed it. Desmond agreed quietly, saying that he was enjoying this utter peace inside of him, this wonderful beach morning, this quiet energy humming through his system and the warmth that shivered out with every breeze, the soft sheets pooled around his waist. He wanted to savor this moment, perhaps for the rest of this life.

"Fine, but you have to promise me no more dying until I'm officially gone for the final time."

As the others laughed, he figured that maybe he could keep going as long as this peace in his breast remained and the contentment continued to feed his strength.

Okay. So I have to ask what you thought. XD I can't tell you how may times I've reread this because I wasn't sure of it. The more I read it the more I realized why I hadn't posted it. Maybe it's time to delve into the redone Hunchback/AC story and post. It might keep me sane from this ridiculous master's program.