"You stupid fucking cunt!" Mijls' hand struck Lucy's face yet again. She glared up at him, nose and lip bleeding.

Meanwhile, Desmond was screaming his head off as he thrashed around, trying to get off the cross he was chained to.

It had been - or what he assumed to be - a week, and since that one night, Lucy hadn't been in his cell again. Apparently Vidic thought Desmond's head hadn't sustained any major damage, so he wouldn't need anyone looking after it.

"Shut up!" Mijls hissed at Desmond, pulling out his gun and hitting the Assassin with its butt, quite hard, on his temple. Desmond's eyes rolled back, and his head slumped with the force of the blow. His head was constantly hurting now; Mijls thought it was the most effective place to hit someone.

"Now tell me where it is!" Mijls screamed in Lucy's face, losing it. Desmond looked up slightly to see a blurry Lucy staring up at the Templar defiantly, her mouth tightly shut.

"Stupid bitch," Mijls growled, hitting her once more for good measure, then turned to Desmond. "She's been trained not to speak under torture, no? You left before that could happen, if I understand correctly."

Before Desmond could react - he wasn't even expecting it - Mijls whipped out a switchblade and sunk it into the Assassin's right shoulder. Desmond howled, mostly from surprise than pain, as blood began to seep out. He heard a gasp from Lucy.

Mijls let go of the handle, leaving the blade buried in Desmond's arm. "Now what will you do?"

It was really starting to hurt. Desmond started to buck his shoulders, trying to dislodge the blade, gritting his teeth and glaring at Mijls the whole time, who just grinned.

"Get... this... thing... out... of... me," Desmond managed after about thirty seconds. He could feel the muscles in his shoulder starting to rip, and feared any damage might be permanent. Not to mention the fucking agonizing pain.

Mijls rolled his eyes. "Pussy." The word sounded strange with his accent. Then he leaned forward and ripped the knife out; blood spurted onto his face and Desmond gasped audibly.

Mijls nodded to a guard, who produced a roll of duct tape - duct tape! - and wrapped it around the wound. Apparently Assassins weren't deserving of gauze. Desmond knew it would hurt like hell if he tried to take it off, especially with a healing wound.

Lucy had been watching this whole time, a furious expression on her face. Desmond could tell she was starting to get fed up.

Mijls thrust his face into Lucy's again, and she withdrew, still glaring.

"Where. Is. It. You stupid fucking cunt," he hissed again. Lucy didn't answer for a few seconds, and he slapped her.

"I don't know!"

"Liar!" He hit her again. "Where's the Apple?"

"I don't know!" She was beginning to cry, whether from the force of the hit or the severity of the pressure she was under, Desmond didn't know.

Now Mijls balled his hand into a fist and punched Lucy in the cheek, his temper overflowing. Desmond gasped and tried to wrestle free, but he found the pain radiating from his shoulder to be too much and slumped, watching in despair.

Lucy's cheek was cut and was now bleeding along with her nose and lip. Her brave demeanour had melted away and she was now struggling away from the blows crossing her face over and over. Relentless.

Mijls was just hitting her, his face a mask of rage. Desmond, still stunned, could only watch as Lucy became more bloodied with each blow.

"Please..." Lucy whispered through bleeding lips. Mijls ignored her.

Another guard stepped up and put his hand on Mijls' shoulder, causing the Templar to stop, breathing hard.

"Jacob, that's enough," the guard said softly.

Mijls took a deep breath, then shook his head and left the room, waving his hand dismissively. "Put them back in their cells."

"No..." Desmond needed to help Lucy. She was going to bleed to death, especially since she seemed to be half-passed out.

"No!" he shrieked as he was taken down. "Lucy!" They threw him in his cell.

Then it was dark.

Desmond threw himself at the door for a few minutes, bouncing his good shoulder off it, screaming bloody murder. He guessed that since he could hear Lucy screaming through the door all those mornings ago, the guards outside his cell must've been able to hear him, but either they weren't listening or they didn't care, because no one came to the door.

Desmond collapsed, breathing heavily. "Fuck!" he hissed, needing to get some frustration out.

He kicked himself back so he could see the camera, and glared at it, hating Templars.

"Hey, Vidic!" he cried. "You'd better listen, and listen well. Lucy used to work for you; you guys worked together. I've only been working with her for two weeks now, and I've come to like her. You two have been working together for years. So you're just going to let her bleed? Let me help her."

He waited, pretty proud of his little speech. Nothing happened.

"Dammit," he muttered, then sat against a wall. Longingly, he looked at the panel where the bathroom was. He finally understood what Lucy had said about suicide-proofing the room.