Desmond had finished the piece as Emiliano handed out the food, and they went back to work until Emiliano had gotten the hang of long division and Baby was complete. It was later that night when all was said and done, and they were lounging as Rebecca worked on yet another upgrade he had thought up. She was having a field day with it ("Finally, a chance to outdo Abstergo even more!").

"Desmond," Lucy began, "you haven't been complaining about the Bleeding Effect as much anymore."

Desmond was lying on the sleeping bags and blankets, working on his unfinished drawing of Shaun, Emiliano beside him reading something he had found.

"Well, I haven't exactly had time to think about between the Animus and teaching him."

"And doodling those ridiculous pictures of yours," Shaun hissed.

"Come on, Shaun, or are you just jealous they look better than you really do?"

"Oh, no, those are accurate pictures, Desmond. It's these horrid things you claim are 'diagrams' that I'm concerned about."

Rebecca grunted for him to turn the page, and Shaun obliged her. "What are you going to do while you're out of the Animus, sketch some more like a stalker?"

"Actually, I might go with Emiliano to check out that well."

"Huh?"

He turned to look at his boy, and he smiled at him. "You said Ezio often leads you there. Wanna go? It's night time."

Emiliano put his book down and hopped up. "Sure! Let's go!"

He was out of the Sanctuary before he could say anything else. Desmond rose, and Lucy stopped him at the entrance.

"Take Shaun with you. I'm going to stay here and help Rebecca."

"What!" Shaun yelped. "I think not!"

"Go with them."

Shaun sighed as he holstered his gun and rose. "Fine."

"Go spend quality time with your boyfriend and his kid."

Desmond grinned and wrapped an arm around his shoulders as they walked to the well, where both Ezio and Emiliano were waiting. He excused himself briefly, ran down and grabbed Mario's sword from where he had stashed it, admiring the assassin's symbol carved into the hilt. There was no way he'd use Altair's sword if it had potential to get ruined. He tucked the sheath into his belt and returned to the well. It was hard to open, but eventually, they wrangled it open and cast aside the concrete. Emiliano pulled out a shred of blanket for each of them and started down the well. Shaun griped the entire way down, and Emiliano was already leaping from ledge to ledge, following Ezio's ghost as Desmond helped Shaun down.

"You're bloody kidding me. I can't do that!"

"Come on, Shaun, you can."

It was damp; it was dark, and it was still smelly despite the kerchief. He led Shaun from ledge to ledge until they reached the halfway mark. Emiliano was feeling the wall as Ezio looked at it impatiently. Eventually, Emiliano yelped and staggered forward as part of the wall pushed in, and blue lines spread out from the indent. Desmond stepped back slightly, and Ezio tapped his foot impatiently as the wall opened. He moved inside, and Emiliano looked around briefly, the blue still glowing before he grabbed Desmond's hand and drug him and Shaun in. The walls closed around them.

"Fuck," Shaun said.

The lights went off, and Ezio disappeared as letters started glowing on the next wall.

"Huh?" Emiliano said. "What language is this?"

Desmond stepped up. "What?"

"Look—the Eye of Horus," Shaun murmured. "This is the same thing we saw from the Apple when you stabbed Lucy."

Desmond winced at the memory, but looked at the code. There seemed to be a pattern. "You know I have nightmares about that."

Shaun squeezed his hand affectionately before looking at the wall. "There must be a pattern. It doesn't look like we're going anywhere until we do."

Desmond sighed, and they started working. He and Shaun poured over the symbols, trying different letter patterns, different sound patterns. Nothing seemed to work as time crawled by. Emiliano nestled into Desmond's side, and Shaun pressed against Emiliano's side, against Desmond, as they tried to keep warmth between them in the damp and chilly air. Eventually, Shaun figured out that the different symbols must be different words, not letters, and it all clicked like the Chinese he had seen in Sixteen's blood.

"I've got it," he announced.

"Well? Read it!" Shaun hissed. "It's damp and cold. I want out."

He was silent for a bit as he finished translating it in his mind. "'So be it. Though I am not high, my magic branches sweep the sky.'"

"What?" Emiliano asked.

"It's a riddle?" Shaun muttered. "Bloody Hell—we're trapped in here, with a foreign language keeping us from getting out of here, and this stupid riddle—"

"A willow," Desmond said.

"What?"

"'So be it,' is talking about the will. 'Not high' is low. The only tree that has magic branches is a 'willow.'" He placed a hand on the wall and pushed. "It's a willow."

The wall lit up brilliantly, and he fell through. Shaun laughed when he fell, and Emiliano skipped ahead when more symbols lit up on the next wall.

"Here's another, Desmond!"

Shaun walked up behind him, drawing the kid close. Emiliano hugged him willingly. Desmond growled as he jogged up. It was certainly colder in here. These rooms must be deeper than he thought.

"Get going, git," Shaun said.

Desmond could've sworn he heard Shaun's teeth starting to chatter. He stepped close to them and studied the symbols. Damn, it was getting colder. It was a little harder to concentrate on the symbols this time, but he knew he had to. It probably would've helped if they were an entirely new set of symbols to figure out. Slowly, he pieced it together in the cold room, slugging through.

"The meadow's wealth I trade for gold, yet wisdom in my fruit I hold."

"Okay, Leonardo, get solving," Shaun hissed, stepping closer to him.

"To 'trade for gold' is to sell. But the meadow's wealth? That could be wheat, barley, soy crops…"

"Hay!" Emiliano said. "Then your answer would be 'hay-sell'—'hazel!'"

Shaun nodded. "Go for it, kid."

"Hazel!" he shouted, but the door didn't open.

Desmond growled and set his hand on it, pushing slightly.

"Hazel!" Emiliano shouted again, and the doors flashed open.

Shaun spooked when they heard something clatter to the ground, and they saw a pile of bones. They stepped through and flinched when the gate closed again, and they heard the bones crunch in the closing. The symbols glowed again, and Desmond translated quickly, shivering. It was like churning through a swamp as he stood there and stared at the glowing symbols, trying desperately to hurry.

"What force and strength cannot get through, I with a gentle touch can do—"

He exhaled shakily, rubbing his arms. It was much colder in here.

"—and many in a street would stand, were I not a friend at hand."

There was a brief silence as they all shuffled closer.

"A key," Shaun said, pushing on the wall. A small, thin keyhole lit up. "Bloody cor. What the Hell?"

Desmond stared at it. "We need the key—we need the key? What the fuck?" He was pissed off. "We try to figure out what Ezio needed, and we're led in to our deaths!"

"I told you that Goddamn shithead was up to no good!" Shaun shouted back, even though they were right next to each other to share heat. "But you just had to suggest following him!"

"Shut up, you fucker! I thought I was doing my kid favors helping him get rid of this stupid ghost!"

"So it's your fault, hm?" Shaun hissed at Emiliano.

"Leave him out of this, you ass!" Desmond snarled. "He did nothing! He's only twelve!"

"He's a thief and a liar!"

He yelped when his arm was forced forward, and he heard the hidden blade unsheathe from the contraption. It clanged against the stone, and Desmond blinked.

"Wait… The key is the blade?"

He slipped it in the crack and twisted his wrist, and the gate-doors clicked, lighting up to reveal an indent of the assassin's symbol. Shaun groaned miserably, leaning against the stone and sinking to the ground.

"We'll never get out of this place!" he moaned, and Desmond kicked him. "Ouch! You prat!"

Emiliano was crying against Desmond's side. The assassin glared at his lover, then to the child, and Shaun's eyes grew wide.

"I'm sorry, Desmond. I didn't know what was back here. I'm sorry I let you guys into this, and now we're going to die of cold and starvation and suffocation, and I'm so sorry!"

The boy was sobbing, muttering apologies of every kind. Desmond kept an arm around him, trying to get him to shush, trying to tell him it wasn't his fault, but the kid wrapped his arms around his neck and cried into his shoulder. He cried into his hoodie, and Shaun got up and stood on his knees, placing a hand on his back.

"Emiliano, this is not your fault. You're only twelve. If anything, we should blame Desmond because of his ridiculousness."

Desmond glared, and Shaun ignored him.

"You see, Emiliano, if he were anything like his ancestors, he would've known that there was something fishy down here, and instead of climbing down here and sacrificing you, he would've ventured in alone. He loves you, Emiliano, and he's not going to let you die down here. This man is too stubborn, too smart, and too incredibly stupid to die. He's like a cockroach, you know. They just don't die. And, since you're his kid, there's no way you're going to die either."

"So I'm a cockro—"

"No, he adopted you," Shaun quickly corrected, "but his asinine stubbornness has rubbed off on you, undoubtedly. He's not going to let you die. Neither of us are going to let you die, and we don't regret coming down here, because you're important to us, and if it gets that damn bastard of a manwhore to leave you alone, then this will be worth every second."

Emiliano was staring at him, his eyes red and puffy from crying, the edge of his mask wet. Shaun untied his mask, wincing at the terrible smell, and offered it.

"Now blow your nose, and we'll put Desmond to work."

"W-what?"

As Emiliano blew his nose, Shaun smiled softly. "We're going to have him carve for us an assassin's symbol."

Desmond shouted, "That's ridiculous—"

"You're up, MacGyver. Don't let your boyfriend and you child die down here."

Desmond growled, looking around for something to carve with, but aside from the glow of the riddle, the keyhole, and the assassin's sign, he couldn't see much. He rose and started feeling his way around. The walls were cold and clammy, and the farther he walked from the blue glow, the more the ground seemed to come apart, until he heard a crack and he slipped, falling into a pile of something. As he groped for a hold, he realized he was in a pile of bones. He almost wanted to puke. He scrambled up and brushed his leg furiously, when something bumped his leg. He tried to brush it away, but when it wouldn't, he presumed it wasn't bone. Then it hit him.

His sword.

Wait a second.

Mario's sword.

With the assassin's symbol.

He marched over and pulled the blade out.

"Why the Hell do you have a sword with you?" Shaun shrieked.

"I grabbed it just in case."

The hilt was much too small for the symbol, but the bright flash of blue and rumble that followed indicated a good sign. Shaun heaved a sigh of relief, and Desmond pulled them through, the temperature dropping another couple of degrees. This room was pitch black, and he extended his arms to feel around, only to be met by a wall.

"Damn… I think we're trapped," Shaun muttered. "Can you feel anything other than wall?"

"I feel you two. You're warm."

Desmond gritted his teeth. He wasn't going to die here. In a vain last attempt, he flicked on his Eagle Vision and turned to examine the walls. There, several feet above any normal human's reach, was a glowing gold projection, hardly big enough that they would've noticed even with light.

"Shaun, I'm going to need you stand on my back, and lift Emiliano onto your shoulders."

"What?" Shaun yelped.

"There's a ledge I'm going to direct Emiliano's hand to, and it's too far away otherwise. Just help me out, okay? At least you don't have to have some two hundred plus pounds standing on your back."

They squirmed around, and eventually, Emiliano had monkeyed onto Shaun's shoulders, and Desmond was on his hands and knees, regretting telling Shaun to stand on his back because fuck he was heavy, and his spine wasn't enjoying that at all, but he was giving Emiliano directions anyway through clenched teeth, and fuck did Shaun's toes shitting hurt when he dug them into his back to give Emiliano just a little more reach, and he managed to grab the rock and pull it out—and they were falling. Emiliano was screaming as Desmond pulled him close, twisting around and trying to gather his surroundings. He pressed the boy against him and groped blindly for Shaun's wrist, tugging him closer.

"Damnit, Desmond!" Shaun shouted, and he snarled.

At least they were both falling on their backs. And shit, it was getting colder. He grunted when they landed in a soft pile of something. Emiliano was still clinging to him, trembling, and Desmond realize it was a large pile of cloth. Without a second thought, he tugged Shaun closer, threw the clothes over them, and huddled underneath, trying to work warmth into their bodies again.

"D-d-damnit," Shaun hissed, his teeth chattering. "This-s-s-s is-s f-f-fucking Hell."

"Sh-shut up-p and c-c-cuddle us-s-s," Desmond growled, Emiliano pressed securely between them.

"H-how c-can I—"

Desmond pulled his mask down and pressed their lips together over the boy's head as he twined their legs together. Fuck, it was cold, and that kiss felt wonderful. He kept kissing him until the small compartment felt slightly warmer, and he broke apart from him, panting, Emiliano still snuggled securely between them. There was silence after that, and Desmond found himself drifting off to sleep.

He woke incredibly warm, nested in the blankets with his lover in front of him and his kid sandwiched in between them. They, too, were asleep, although it didn't look restful at all. At least they were warm. Desmond lay still until Shaun stirred, his eyes opening wearily.

"Hey. I'm gonna climb out and look around, okay?"

Shaun nodded, pulling Emiliano close as Desmond slowly wormed his way out of the pile of cloth. Shit, did he ever regret it as he rubbed his arms, flicking on his Eagle Vision and looking around. There was a glowing object farther away, and only one nearby. He staggered over it to see a piece of flint and a stone sitting there over a groove filled with an oily substance. Without a second thought, he forced his hands to grab the stones and begin striking them together. It was fucking cold down here, and he was trembling like Japan during an earthquake.

After several minutes, he heard Shaun's voice. "Do you need me to come out there?"

"N-n-n-n-n-no. St-st-st-sta-stay w-w-w-warm-m-m."

There—a spark—a flicker—a ray of hope—a splash into the oil—an explosion—and suddenly there was fire, and it was travelling far away. He was vaguely reminded of that movie—that treasure movie—but there was no treasure. It took him a moment to realize it was bones. Stone caskets and statues and bones and preserved bodies lined the corridor. Huge bonfires went up in intervals, burning slowly in thickly packed piles of something. And at the far end was a lever, with a platform that looked like it went up.

"Desmond?"

He could hear Shaun shift inside the pile of clothes, and he looked back at the fire below his fingers. It was going out, and he staggered to the nearest corner and stood in front of one of the bonfires, noticing the little river of oil that lead to it.

"H-h-here," he stuttered, holding his hands out. "Warm-warmth."

Shaun crawled out, and Desmond saw him flinch at both the light and the still chilly atmosphere. He walked over quickly.

"How are these burning?" Shaun said. "There's no air—"

"Catacombs. We're in my ancestors' catacombs. Apparently, either Maria or Claudia rebuilt Monteriggioni, and it fell to ruin not too long ago. There's what looks like a way out at the other end."

"Incredible," Shaun whispered, stepping closer to Desmond.

Desmond pressed against his side as he warmed in front of the fire.

"Do we wake Emiliano?"

That was soon answered with a whimper and a panicked call for both of them. Desmond hollered back, and soon, he had his kid gripping him tightly.

"A-are we almost done in here?"

Shaun rubbed his back gently. "Almost, kiddo. The exit's in sight."

"Before we leave," Desmond whispered, "I need to check out what was glowing."

They were silent a while longer before Desmond turned and started walking off, looking at the statues. His Eagle Vision was on, and he gazed at the rapidly growing glowing spots. Finally, he stopped in front of the glowing thing, and realized he was at the end of the catacombs. He flicked off his Eagle Vision and looked behind him to see Shaun stop briefly to look at each of the statues. He turned back to the glowing statue and froze, a scream threatening to tear from his throat. The ghost of Ezio sat on the opened marble casket, and Desmond wanted to cry at the life-size statue before him.

It was of himself. And he was standing, his legs slightly apart and both hands over the hilt of a sword—the Sword—and a cloak—the Shroud—draped across its shoulders. It was staring straight ahead seriously, and it looked almost real. It had an air of purpose around it.

"That's creepy, love."

Desmond swallowed and turned stiffly to look at Shaun, who was examining it closely.

"Bloody Hell, that looks just like you. Who carved it?"

Ezio scowled, and Shaun jumped when he noticed the ghost.

"Well, looks like you've got your… wait a second, are those Pieces of Eden?"

Desmond forced himself to look at the haunting statue, then reached out and touched the Sword as if it would eat him. It glowed brilliantly, and Desmond jerked back at the feel of power that flooded him.

"I thought the Templars had it."

Ezio clattered noisily, and Desmond carefully extracted the Sword.

"And I thought the Templars had the Shroud."

"There could be more than one. There are fifty pieces."

Desmond stood there, gazing at the life-like statue and inwardly cringing. There was something super creepy in knowing that everyone in the past knew who he was courtesy of some long-dead chick with a fetish for technology. Oh, and building him a grave before he was even thought of was also kinda freaky. Shit it all to Hell, this entire thing was just plain wrong. Fuck, it looked so eerily like him before he had stubble he was glad he had it now. The Sword seemed to pulse with power, and Desmond grimaced again.

"You should draw the rest of this."

He turned to see Shaun gesture to the rest of the catacombs.

"There's even a statue of Ezio with a filled grave. I take it he didn't rot away in Constantinople."

He would draw it, the pictures seared into his memory like a brand. There was no way he'd forget this soon.

"Can we go, Desmond?"

He glanced at his kid, reaching out and wrapping a hand around his shoulders. "Y-yeah."

He started heading for the exit, and froze when he felt something drape across his shoulders. It was the Shroud. The one that had been on his statue, which was near his grave, and fuck it all that was fucking creepy. He pushed Shaun onto the platform, flinching when he saw Ezio waving at him, and pushed the lever in. The platform jerked, and they were being raised to the surface again. He felt Shaun's hand on his shoulders, and turned to look at him, spooked.

"You're not dead yet, mate."

His grip tightened on Emiliano's shoulders.

"I'd consider it a tremendous honor to have a grave like that."

"I don't want to die yet," Desmond whispered as the platform stopped, and they were met with a tunnel.

He forced himself to start walking, the Sword in his hands and the Shroud on his shoulders.

"You're not going to die for a long time with the Shroud and the Sword. A… Killer combination, if I do say so myself."

Desmond scowled at his smirk, then groaned pitifully. "Why did I have to follow him."

"Thank God you have a brain about you," Shaun said, "otherwise we'd be freezing to death in those chambers."

"We almost did."

There was silence between the three of them as they kept walking. Each man had a hand on Emiliano, their footsteps almost muffled by the wet dirt beneath their feet.

"You know," Shaun began again, "Leonardo da Vinci was born twenty years after Joan of Arc died."

"Okay?" Emiliano said.

"You don't think Ezio followed the Templars to Constantinople to retrieve the Sword—do you?"

Desmond pursed his lips. "That could be it. I remember hearing about the Sword in those memories, and we never did finish them before I woke up."

"That's what I thought."

They were silent a time more before the ran into a wall.

"Dead fucking end."

"No," Desmond said, "there's always a way out. Let's try up. It worked last time."

"And we ended falling down," Shaun deadpanned.

Desmond groped blindly, not surprised when he felt a wall perfect for climbing.

"All right, monkey boy, start climbing."

Emiliano started climbing up. Desmond turned to Shaun, unable to see him in the darkness. He was silent for a while before he sighed.

"Fuck," he whispered.

"What?"

"I just…"

Shaun sighed, felt up to grab his chin, and pulled him in for a quick kiss. "Head up, Miles. Now that we know you can crack those codes easily—which we should've been able to tell from the rate you flew through Sixteen's glitches—and now that we know just how smart you are, things are going to get easier."

"Uh… Desmond?"

He looked up the hole, only to be met with darkness. "Yeah?"

"There's something blocking the exit."

Desmond sighed and began climbing up the walls as Emiliano climbed down. "Do I have to do everything?"

Shaun hollered up the darkened hole, "Of course, mate. You've got a lot to make up for since you lied to us for so long."

"Didn't I just prove myself back in the catacombs?"

It was a large, stone slab. He'd have to move it while dangling precariously from the sides of the holes.

"No, consider that the tip of your retribution."

He scowled when he heard both Emiliano and Shaun laugh. He finally managed to push the stone away, and climbed up. He was in a graveyard, several miles outside of Monteriggioni. As a matter of fact, he couldn't even see it anymore. And he was lost as shitting fucking Hell's bitch.

He wasn't going to mention when he said that last line out loud, but he was sure Shaun heard him when he heard the voice coming up the hole.

"Desmond? What's wrong—oh, God, don't tell me we're surrounded by Templars."

"That might actually be a little bit more preferable right now."

"What?"

He waited patiently until both Shaun and Emiliano were out.

"Shit."

"Yeah."

"Hm…"

"What's wrong?" Emiliano asked, pushing the stone inch-by-inch back over the passage.

"We're lost."

"No, we're not. This is where my mom's buried."

Desmond blinked. "You can get us back home?"

"Yeah. Follow me!"

Desmond looked at Shaun briefly in the moonlight. It seemed like it hadn't changed at all. They took off after Emiliano, who vaulted over the fencing and started running toward somewhere. Sure enough, Monteriggioni loomed in the distance shortly after, and Desmond slowed as Emiliano got winded. Shaun started panting beside him as they slowed.

"Damnit, you pillock," Shaun growled at him.

"What?" Emiliano looked slightly confused.

"No, Desmond. If he wasn't so smart, I'd have kicked his ass from here to China by now."

Desmond grinned. "Aw, babe—"

"Don't call me that!"

"—you're just upset because you get a boner for smart men."

"No," Shaun said, tazering him in the side with his hand, "I get a boner for good-looking men. Intelligence just happens to be one of my kinks."

"Kinks?"

"Well, yes, Desmond," Shaun said in a matter of fact tone as he drew himself up and pushed his glasses up his nose.

Desmond wondered how they were even on still. The man was incredible. And filthy—they were all disgusting. Emiliano scowled.

"I don't want to hear what turns you on," the kid growled. "I'm not Desmond, and I think you'd look ugly without clothes on, so don't tell me about what gets you going."

"What? Why you little—Hey!"

Shaun was chasing after Emiliano, ready to tackle him, and Desmond started chasing after both of them as they sprinted back, up over the walls and into the Sanctuary. Lucy was thoroughly shocked to see them again, relieved and overwhelmed they hadn't been captured by Templars. She asked what happened and where the Sword and the Shroud had come from, and Emiliano regaled it all to her and Rebecca, and Desmond and Shaun shared a look—neither one of them remembered it quite that way, but they let him have the tale as they lay on the sleeping bags and pillows, completely out of breath and bone weary. They politely declined the hugs, ready to sleep, and although Shaun fussed, he eventually fell asleep on Desmond's chest as he watched him draw the statue and the Pieces of Eden.

The Shroud was draped over both of them as Emiliano wolfed down a meal Rebecca made. And Desmond found himself drifting off despite the glorious smells of food. Apparently, they had been gone for a day.

"And now that you're back, Des," Rebecca said, "you can build for me the necessary part for this upgrade! Awesome!"

But Desmond never heard her, fast asleep with the Sword tucked partly underneath him and the Shroud across him and Shaun as he tightened his hold on his lover, the half drawn picture of the historian lecturing Emiliano in front of Ezio's statue now forgotten as he slept.