Malik awoke in a bed, a thick headache coating his mind and filling his skull with a stubborn layer of fuzz that slowed it down, and his body covered in a thin blanket, breeches still on his legs but skin otherwise bare. A painful ache shuddered down his non-existent left arm as if he had pulled the muscles. He huffed a breath and groaned, turning his head to look at the space where his absent limb should have been in hope that it would remind him that pain there was impossible. It never worked, no matter how many times he relived that heady, blurry memory of the saw biting into his skin.
He yelled a vicious curse and heaved himself to the right, scrambling away from what he saw.
Beneath the thin sheet a clear outline of bones could be seen, spreading right the way into a wrist.
The door banged open, there was a flurry of movement and flowing robes. Hands pressed down on Malik's shoulders until he lay back down, still staring at the skeletal limb clinging to his ruined shoulder. Altaïr hovered above him, shushing him as Maria knelt on his other side saying, 'it's all right, Malik, it's all right.' He sucked in shaky breaths through his nose and hissed them out through his teeth, muscles tense and still ready to leap away.
“It was the Apple.” Altaïr said gently and placed a bare hand at the top of Malik's neck, thumb stroking along his jaw. “It's been growing whilst you were asleep.”
Malik continued to gaze wide-eyed and fear-stricken. Across his body Altaïr and Maria shared a furtive glance. A metacarpal slowly moved the blanket with it's snail's-pace growth.
“It's actually happening?” Malik eventually croaked out, disbelieving. Maria nodded earnestly and placed a hand gingerly over his growing fingers. He gasped shakily even though he couldn't feel her touch.
“Malik you must tell me how it is you got the Apple to restore your arm.” Altaïr said as he rearranged himself on the bed, and stroked along Malik's exposed collarbone, fingering a scar that dissected it on the right side. Inside Malik burned with shame. One question, eh? Wouldn't become addicted to the power, hm?
“Not now.” He mumbled, eyeing the silhouette of the five bones protruding from what would become the back of his hand.
“Mali-”
“Not now.” He repeated more firmly and wrenched his gaze away from his half-formed limb to meet Altaïr's eyes. His stare was returned evenly. Maria cleared her throat quietly.
“I have to get back to Yusef.” She said softly and moved her hand to press against Altaïr's forearm warningly before scrambling to her feet and walking back through the door she entered from. Her stomach curved with a second child. Altaïr's hand slid up Malik's stubbled neck.
“I'm keeping you in the nursery until I feel assured that you'll be okay. Yusef's cot has been moved into the room next door with Maria.” Altaïr said and sighed.
“I think I can manage on my own.” Malik grumbled just to be difficult.
“Can you move it?”
Malik looked towards the bare bones of his left arm and tried to move his wrist. It remained still and unyielding to his will.
“No.” He eventually replied. Altaïr sighed heavily again and Malik looked back to him, the sight of his arm nauseating. “But I can't stay here.”
FILL [2.a/?]
He yelled a vicious curse and heaved himself to the right, scrambling away from what he saw.
Beneath the thin sheet a clear outline of bones could be seen, spreading right the way into a wrist.
The door banged open, there was a flurry of movement and flowing robes. Hands pressed down on Malik's shoulders until he lay back down, still staring at the skeletal limb clinging to his ruined shoulder. Altaïr hovered above him, shushing him as Maria knelt on his other side saying, 'it's all right, Malik, it's all right.' He sucked in shaky breaths through his nose and hissed them out through his teeth, muscles tense and still ready to leap away.
“It was the Apple.” Altaïr said gently and placed a bare hand at the top of Malik's neck, thumb stroking along his jaw. “It's been growing whilst you were asleep.”
Malik continued to gaze wide-eyed and fear-stricken. Across his body Altaïr and Maria shared a furtive glance. A metacarpal slowly moved the blanket with it's snail's-pace growth.
“It's actually happening?” Malik eventually croaked out, disbelieving. Maria nodded earnestly and placed a hand gingerly over his growing fingers. He gasped shakily even though he couldn't feel her touch.
“Malik you must tell me how it is you got the Apple to restore your arm.” Altaïr said as he rearranged himself on the bed, and stroked along Malik's exposed collarbone, fingering a scar that dissected it on the right side. Inside Malik burned with shame. One question, eh? Wouldn't become addicted to the power, hm?
“Not now.” He mumbled, eyeing the silhouette of the five bones protruding from what would become the back of his hand.
“Mali-”
“Not now.” He repeated more firmly and wrenched his gaze away from his half-formed limb to meet Altaïr's eyes. His stare was returned evenly. Maria cleared her throat quietly.
“I have to get back to Yusef.” She said softly and moved her hand to press against Altaïr's forearm warningly before scrambling to her feet and walking back through the door she entered from. Her stomach curved with a second child. Altaïr's hand slid up Malik's stubbled neck.
“I'm keeping you in the nursery until I feel assured that you'll be okay. Yusef's cot has been moved into the room next door with Maria.” Altaïr said and sighed.
“I think I can manage on my own.” Malik grumbled just to be difficult.
“Can you move it?”
Malik looked towards the bare bones of his left arm and tried to move his wrist. It remained still and unyielding to his will.
“No.” He eventually replied. Altaïr sighed heavily again and Malik looked back to him, the sight of his arm nauseating. “But I can't stay here.”