Chapter 1: Heartbeat

Fanfiction by Krystal Shepard

This story was brought out of one question: What if Lucy could not get Desmond out before Abstergo found something else about him that they could attempt to use?

So, yes, Desmond will be just a little bit tortured in the beginning few chapters. Until Lucy, Rebecca, Shaun, and one other person, I don't know whom yet, gets him out. Of course, there will be a mention of rape, but the majority of it will be consensual.

I am ignoring the fact that Lucy is a traitor in the actual game in this. Believe me, I don't like her very much, but there is one other character that I dislike even more. My anger at her is diminishing, so she is still here.

THIS IS A YAOI BETWEEN SHAUN AND DESMOND. If you have a problem with that, then please DO NOT READ. I would rather not get any reviews stating that this should not be a yaoi or anything along those lines. If you do not mind this, then please read. I hope you enjoy this.

R&R!

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Desmond Miles was pacing around his small, Abstergo-provided bedroom.

Lucy had promised that she would try anything to get him out, but days had passed since then, and since Desmond was stuck in his room, he did not know what her hold-up was. The first few days were a bit rough, as his Eagle Vision had awoken that first day and these red symbols were visible to his eyesight. Of course, whoever this Subject Sixteen person was would have left him something to remember him by… He had, luckily, gotten used to seeing the bright red symbols on the walls and floor a couple of days after his little exile. However, after trying to figure out what they meant and failing miserably, Desmond took up his pacing.

…He was shocked there was still a floor underneath his feet he has paced that much.

Desmond stopped in front of the door to the Animus room and stared at it. What was taking Lucy so long? Was Vidic somehow stopping her from doing this, or maybe some other obstacle was in her way? By this point, Desmond had thought of just about everything that could be holding the blonde Assassin up. From she had to wait for confirmation from any other Assassin's helping her, to she was forced to leave without him; Desmond even considered the thought that she had lied to him! However, just because he thought of those things, it does not mean that he believed any of his ideas.

His eyes subconsciously narrowed at the door. A growl slid out from his scarred lips, and Desmond suddenly punched the metal door hard. He knew that he would not be breaking the door down, much less opening it, any time soon, but he still felt oddly satisfied at the little outburst he had. Desmond leaned against the door, pressing his forehead to the cool metal. "What the hell is going on out there?" Desmond groaned to himself as his golden eyes slid shut.

His life had been a living hell after being brought to Abstergo; after all, being told that you would die with either choice that you made kind of had that effect on people. Desmond still did not fully understand what they were looking for, but from what he remembered from Altaïr's memories, he knew that it would not be pretty. What his purpose was in all this was still, however, a mystery to his mind. He had provided them with what they wanted; why were they keeping him alive for now?

Desmond had been so lost in his thoughts, he did not realize that he had slid to the floor and was close to passing out. Once he had felt his eyelids starting to flicker open, though, he knew. And he just let himself fall into the depths of sleep-deprived knocking out.

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Desmond woke much later to a hazy feeling in his mind. The first thing that he noticed was that he was sitting upright in a chair, not slumped over on the floor of his room. He attempted to open his eyes and look around, but found a blindfold tied tightly around his head.

His arms automatically jerked in a vain attempt to rip the blindfold off, only for Desmond to realize that they were behind his back and cuffed to the back of the chair he was sitting in. He grimaced, thinking, 'This is it. I'm done for now; Abstergo's just going to get rid of me.'

To his greatest shock, and relief, that was not the case.

He could faintly hear voices through the haze, but could not discern any words or specific people. Desmond attempted to appear as if he was still unconscious, considering the circumstances. However, it was very difficult to when he felt someone tilt his head up from where it was resting against his chest.

Desmond attempted to control his breathing, to keep it from becoming erratic, and the act seemed to be working. The voices were becoming slightly clearer to his hazed mind, and he could at least distinguish one voice from the collective: Warren Vidic.

The hand at his chin released it, and a very familiar voice clearly said, "Warren, you truly do not know whom you have here, do you?" Desmond stiffened slightly, as fingers trailed lightly against his right shoulder. No, it couldn't be, that man was too much of a hard ass to side with the Templar's…

Vidic replied with something incoherent to Desmond's ears, and he was partially glad that he had not been able to figure out what was said. The fingers trailed up to his jaw before gliding back down his neck, sending small shivers of fear down Desmond's spine. That odd fear confused him; if the person was whom he thought it was, then, one, why was he here, and two, why did it seem as if the man scared him shitless? Desmond had no real reason to fear him, after all.

The man connected to the fingers laughed outright at whatever Vidic had said. "As I thought, you only think what the Council tells you to, not the way you should be," that familiar voice said, and the way it was said made Desmond's hope of him being on his side diminish. "This is a fine specimen of when someone has enough First Civilization DNA in his bloodstream to be considered one of the First Civilization. I've been looking for him these past nine years, since he ran away from the compound and made his way to the United States somehow."

Desmond truthfully did not mean to stiffen completely, to the point that they could notice. Now, he could understand what Vidic was saying. "Ah, so he is awake. Do you want me to sedate him again, Miles?" Desmond cringed; so it was true…

"No, I will. You all are dismissed; I would like some time alone with my 'son'." Desmond heard shuffling of feet as about three to five people left, and then those irritating fingers left his neck. Desmond shifted slightly, now uncaring if he was acting or not. The man in the room with him knew better than that.

"Desmond, Desmond, Desmond. Did you really think that I would not find you again?" that voice crooned, and judging by his footsteps he was slowly circling Desmond. "I always knew where you were, and where you were going." Desmond instinctively scowled at his words.

"Better than being cooped up in a compound in the middle of nowhere South Dakota," he spat out, going on the defensive. The chuckle that came from the man brought a growl out of Desmond. "What the hell do you want with me?" he asked, grinding his teeth as he did.

The blindfold was torn off, and his chin was roughly lifted up to a certain William Miles' face. A sadistic smirk was curving his father's lips, and if Desmond knew any better, he would think that he had a very bad idea of what could happen. "Oh, Desmond, you really don't remember what happened in the Russian compound, do you?" The crooning was back in full force, in a stark contrast with the look on his face. "We never were in South Dakota. That might be where you forced amnesia onto yourself, but never in my life have I been anywhere close to that Assassin compound."

Desmond's eyes widened, and his Eagle Vision flickered into activity, just for a second, causing William to gain a red haze over him. 'Shit,' Desmond thought as he jerked his chin out of William's tight hold. "What the hell are you talking about? I've never been to Russia in my life!" he yelled, confusion seeping into his tone. 'This won't be good. Damn it.'

William shook his head and pulled out a needle. "Looks like I am going to have to bring you out of this state. How sad."

The needle plunged into Desmond's exposed right shoulder, and he flinched at the slight pain. "Wha…" Desmond started saying, but then the very strong sedative that William hit him with took effect. He slumped over in the chair he was sitting at, completely unconscious again.

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The first thing Desmond felt when he started slipping back into consciousness was a pervasive cold. He knew, however, that he was also in his little room again, if the uncomfortable mattress said anything about it. Desmond sighed and rubbed his head, hoping that it was just a dream and that he was still waiting for word on what they were going to do with him. He opened his eyes to see the same room, but there were two guards stationed inside the room now. He could not hold back a scowl; so much for the small amount of privacy he had. "On your feet," one of the guards said when Desmond sat up in bed. Desmond raised an eyebrow, but didn't feel like getting into a fight just yet. He was still completely out of practice, no matter how much has bled over from Altaïr.

Desmond stood, and soon was following the guards down several hallways. He forced his jaw to keep shut, especially when they walked him through an entire floor filled with Animus'. How many of them did they have?

He did not have enough time to think about it, however, seeing as how he was then ushered into what looked like a torture room. The examination table in the center of the room was a solid metal piece, and was either rusted or covered in what had to of been blood. Chains, ropes, and file cabinets lined the walls, and there was a desk in the opposite corner from the door. The guards left at that point, leaving him alone with the figure behind the desk.

The figure glanced up, and coldly ordered, "Take your jacket and shirt off and get on the table." Desmond clenched his jaw; now unsure whether or not he should push his luck and refuse. Then, he spotted the whip at the man's waist, and the line of scalpels lying innocently on his desk. He took a deep breath, and slowly did as he was ordered.

This was going to be another living hell; that much was obvious.

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CLIFFHANGER! I know, I know. William is one hundred percent dedicated to the Creed. He wouldn't do anything against it.

…But who was it that let Daniel Cross into the Order? Whose compound went shockingly untouched? And (spoiler alert) how did the Templar's know where the keys into the Grand Temple were? Cross was at each location where there was one. Someone has to be the leak, and Lucy, by the time Assassin's Creed III takes place, isn't around to be that leak. William Miles also does not look enough like Desmond for there to be any paternal relation between them. I'll explain more of that in the next chapter.

Until then, see yah's!