Then everything had turned upside-down and suddenly he was being told they were leaving, going home. Only Desmond did not think of where they were going as home, he didn’t have a definition of home beyond where his brothers were because without them he was lost. To him they were home, not some geographical place on a map or some building, they were his family, his everything, all he had. At least until he’d made a friend. He hadn’t wanted to leave, he’d rather have stayed, because Leo was kind to him, and Salai made him happy, but at the same time he knew he could never just let his brothers go, and they would not leave without him, but they wanted to go home more than anything.
So he’d gone with them.
He sort of regretted it and was glad Altair didn’t know. It was true a prophet and his Sicarius shared everything, but some things Desmond wanted to himself. He had better control over his own mind than Altair and so had kept these feelings to himself or he knew Altair would have felt terrible for taking him somewhere he didn’t want to go. Altair would gladly give up his own happiness if his little brother was happy in his stead and Desmond couldn’t have that, he wanted Altair to have something he wanted for once and not what his brothers wanted. He was too selfless for his own good and Desmond made sure he never knew that he felt this was.
Desmond rocked back in the chair, the winds had started to die now. He’d bee almost angry earlier, angry he couldn’t be with Salai, angry that all of this had happened that he’d even been put in the position to feel this way. He knew the laws, Sheep and Assassins did not mix and even the seldom few who were accepted into their society had to fight tooth and nail to make anything of themselves, to become anything more than just a Sheep in the eyes of everyone else. It didn’t mean he didn’t feel the way he felt.
He couldn’t remember how long he’d sat there thinking, remembering, and still wonderfully stunned at what Salai had done. If he hadn’t seen it he wouldn’t have believed it really, it was almost to fanciful that the quiet Salai would have the guts to kiss his brother. Even if it wasn’t for him he’d still technically kissed him and now thinking along that train of logic Desmond giggled. Altair had been so pissed in the aftermath of Malik surprising him with that first kiss but this time he’d just been to shocked to do anything. Neither of them had been expecting it and in some way that made Desmond glad. He kept his third eye on Leo, Malik and Salai and hadn’t seen that coming, because the future wasn’t constant. Anything could change the future, and it was the jobs of the prophets to find the best futures and try to make them happen, and to then witness the events first hand through their Sicarius. But he hadn’t seen this, and for some reason that made him indescribably glad.
He hummed to himself and watched the storm die away, the sand sliding down the windows like rain instead of pounding against it, and the sun came back out. Desmond blinked at the sudden brightness and thought about getting up to dim the window but he didn’t want to. He propped his chin up onto his knees and stayed that was until the sky began to darken into a pure indigo color. Only then did he hop up out of the chair, his legs a bit stiff from sitting still so long and walked slowly back over to the Wellspring where he’d left his Apple. He sat down on the pillows, snatching up the orb as he did so, and rolled it between his hands in a thoughtful way his mind an entire country away.
Finally he opened his third eye and sank into the pillows as his normal vision ceased to be and the Animus swarmed across his eyes in a flurry of threads and strands. “Show me what I need to see,” he said softly, directing himself with his voice to focus on what he wanted to see. “Show me the path I want that won’t end in heart break.”
Re: Clipped (21j/21)
So he’d gone with them.
He sort of regretted it and was glad Altair didn’t know. It was true a prophet and his Sicarius shared everything, but some things Desmond wanted to himself. He had better control over his own mind than Altair and so had kept these feelings to himself or he knew Altair would have felt terrible for taking him somewhere he didn’t want to go. Altair would gladly give up his own happiness if his little brother was happy in his stead and Desmond couldn’t have that, he wanted Altair to have something he wanted for once and not what his brothers wanted. He was too selfless for his own good and Desmond made sure he never knew that he felt this was.
Desmond rocked back in the chair, the winds had started to die now. He’d bee almost angry earlier, angry he couldn’t be with Salai, angry that all of this had happened that he’d even been put in the position to feel this way. He knew the laws, Sheep and Assassins did not mix and even the seldom few who were accepted into their society had to fight tooth and nail to make anything of themselves, to become anything more than just a Sheep in the eyes of everyone else. It didn’t mean he didn’t feel the way he felt.
He couldn’t remember how long he’d sat there thinking, remembering, and still wonderfully stunned at what Salai had done. If he hadn’t seen it he wouldn’t have believed it really, it was almost to fanciful that the quiet Salai would have the guts to kiss his brother. Even if it wasn’t for him he’d still technically kissed him and now thinking along that train of logic Desmond giggled. Altair had been so pissed in the aftermath of Malik surprising him with that first kiss but this time he’d just been to shocked to do anything. Neither of them had been expecting it and in some way that made Desmond glad. He kept his third eye on Leo, Malik and Salai and hadn’t seen that coming, because the future wasn’t constant. Anything could change the future, and it was the jobs of the prophets to find the best futures and try to make them happen, and to then witness the events first hand through their Sicarius. But he hadn’t seen this, and for some reason that made him indescribably glad.
He hummed to himself and watched the storm die away, the sand sliding down the windows like rain instead of pounding against it, and the sun came back out. Desmond blinked at the sudden brightness and thought about getting up to dim the window but he didn’t want to. He propped his chin up onto his knees and stayed that was until the sky began to darken into a pure indigo color. Only then did he hop up out of the chair, his legs a bit stiff from sitting still so long and walked slowly back over to the Wellspring where he’d left his Apple. He sat down on the pillows, snatching up the orb as he did so, and rolled it between his hands in a thoughtful way his mind an entire country away.
Finally he opened his third eye and sank into the pillows as his normal vision ceased to be and the Animus swarmed across his eyes in a flurry of threads and strands. “Show me what I need to see,” he said softly, directing himself with his voice to focus on what he wanted to see. “Show me the path I want that won’t end in heart break.”
The world went white.
-fin-