A/N- My computer died. Not kidding. Then when I got my new computer after a while, I found out that because it's a chromebook, I had no Word, or any other typing document kind of files to upload. But now, my dear friend Merlyn Pyndragon has shown me how to take from Google docs and copy/paste into a document through here. Thanks, dearie!

Also, this is taking a turn that I didn't think of before. So, this is a bit of a time skip and a filler chapter. Sorry! And thanks for the reviews!

It had been five weeks.

Five weeks since Malik has seen Altaïr alive. He was terrified, horrified, and lit with anxiety so deep that he could hardly sleep at night. A few search parties had been sent out to look for him, and informants were kept on the watch, but nothing seemed to turn up. Three weeks into his disappearance, Al Mualim had gathered the Assassins in Masyaf to announce the death of his closest pupil, and a farewell was said to him, a stone placed in the ground beside his fallen brothers, despite having no body. That of itself was nothing new. Many of the markers had no bodies lying beneath. It was simply an occupational hazard of living such a lifestyle.

But it was worse than he could possibly imagine. Faced with the death of the man he had began to grow close to again had ripped through him like a frozen knife, with a white hot poker shoved in directly after the wound was made. Even then, Malik felt his heart seem to drop from his very being.

He had not been the one to decide where to place the headstone. And yet, when he came to the ceremony- invited, of course, by Al Mualim who decided he might be better with some time off- the dai had found himself dropping to the ground. Altaïr Ibn La Ahad had been etched into a piece of granite, and sat only a mere foot and and a half away from the stone that read Kadar Al-Sayf. Malik hadn't known what to do with the placement. He could feel his heart beating out of his chest in that moment, and it had never seemed to slow after.

And here he was, two weeks after that. His work in the bureau was anything but slowed, and yet he noticed a difference. Things were quieter, the assassins more subdued, and even his own words lost the bite they usually possessed. Things had changed.

Malik didn't like it.

But there was nothing he could do.

..-...-..

Altaïr didn't know how he got out.

All he knew was that he was in pain. Each day, he had seemed to grow a little bit more, getting just a bit bigger, but he had yet to get back to his actual age. And with it, the little things became more and more, until his body was caked with blood and dirt, until he shook and trembled and collapsed into unconsciousness each time he was thrown back into the cell.

With more and more pain came the lessening of his thoughts towards anything but getting out. He hurt, everywhere. If he could just escape…

And that's exactly what he did. He managed to knock out the guard dragging him back to cell. He stole his keys and ran as fast as his trembling legs would let him, lanky frame getting in the way. All elbows and knocking knees, it was difficult to get past each level of security. But he did.

In all of his commotion he created, he forgot entirely about the Apple of Eden. That didn't really matter to him, and it didn't occur to him until long after he ran from the rubble of a castle in the desert. He didn't stop running until he absolutely could go no longer. Altaïr blacked out in the middle of the sand.

..-...-..

The first thing Malik noticed was the eerie silence. The sounds outside his bureau that usually was filled with the throngs and cacophony of the markets below were suddenly quiet, only a few hoofbeats making their way through the walls. Frowning, he set down his quill slowly. Hand over the knife hanging under his dai robes, he slipped out the side entrance and into the streets.

What greeted him was something he had not expected. His blood ran cold, and yet his heart suddenly shot from the ground to his throat.

On the back of a man's horse lay a young man, beaten, bloodied, nearly naked, and unconscious. Malik couldn't help the gasp that pulled from his throat.

"Altaïr!"

A/N- Yeah… Filler… But no worries! Things pick up! Along with some caring Malik!

Please review!

~L~