Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt. 6

[asscreedkinkmeme]

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.6
Open

Sky World

≈ Comment anonymously with a character/pairing and a kink/prompt.

≈ Comment is filled by another anonymous with fanfiction/art/or any other appropriate medium.

≈ One request per post, but fill the request as much as you want.

≈ The fill/request doesn't necessarily need to be smut.

≈ Don't flame, if you have nothing good to say, don't say anything.

≈ Have a question? Feel free to PM me.

≈ Last, but not least: HAVE FUN!

List of Kinks
Kink Meme Masterlist
New Kink Meme Masterlist
(Livejorunal) Archive
(Delicious.com) Archive
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
#2 (Delicious.com) Archive
(Dreamwidth) Archive
#3 (Delicious.com) Archive <-- Currently active
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Fills Only
Discussion

Comments

Crazy!Desmond, Time travel

[(Anonymous)]

The Animus works a bit too well for Desmond and forms a mental link with one of his ancestors (author's choice). Unfortunately, his mind can't handle the large influx of memories, knowledge, and skills, and he ends up going rather insane. Not exactly drooling and chewing on his tongue insane, but definitely not quite right.

The mental link goes both ways, though, and the ancestor has been watching Desmond through his dreams. He sees that Desmond has been captured and is being 'tortured' with some strange contraption. Desperate to save this boy that he's connected to, the ancestor uses The Apple to get Desmond and bring him back to his time.


Can be gen or any pairing. The relationship between Ancestor and Desmond can be familial or romantic, but I definitely want them to be very close, with the Ancestor feeling rather protective.


Bonuses

-Crazy though he may be, Desmond is also perfectly capable of being a badass (thanks to the skill absorption from the Animus), much to everyone's surprise.

-Others are wary of Desmond, because of his oddness and the fact that he seems to know things that he shouldn't be able to (from the Animus memories).

Re: Crazy!Desmond, Time travel

[(Anonymous)]

Hello, writer!anon here with some good ideas, but curious exactly what sort of crazy OP had in mind? Because this sounds like the Bleeding Effect on steroids, which I will happily do (I love me some Bleeding Effect, even if this wouldn't be quite the same), but I don't want to mess up what you had in mind for the prompt.

Re: Crazy!Desmond, Time travel

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, there are so many ways for the mind to go snap, crackle, pop and I'd be perfectly happy with any of them. I prefer not to limit authors when I prompt.

I didn't really think on what type of crazy, I just had a general outline in my head - Animus goes haywire, drives Desmond crazy, mental links with Ancestor, Ancestor saves Des. Do whatever you like with it! :)


-OP

Re: Crazy!Desmond, Time travel

[(Anonymous)]

am very eager to see this written!!!

Against Time | 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Why am I doing this when I have two novels and a portfolio to work on, why? I blame you, OP, and your awesome prompt. And also my love for Desmond, my sadness over the conclusion of his story, and my leftover feels from AC4.

---

It wasn't the Bleeding Effect.

Whatever else could be said about it, it was not the Bleeding Effect.

The others thought it might be, whispering together when they thought he wasn't paying attention. Thought what had happened to Sixt- what had happened to Clay was happening to him.

But Clay had been forced to live through the memories of dozens of different ancestors, each for days on end in the Animus. All the different memories and languages and experiences bled together inside his head until he couldn't distinguish them from him.

Desmond only had Altair, Ezio, a bit of Haytham, and now Connor. It was a lot to have in his head, but he could compartmentalize, at least for long enough to get the information they needed.

There wasn't much they could do about it, even if it were the Bleeding Effect. They needed to figure out how to get deeper into the temple, they needed Connor's memories.

Days flew by while he was in the Animus. Rebecca assured him that all was fine and that she was monitoring his vitals while he plowed his way through the American Revolution. The only thing keeping him anchored to the fact that he was Desmond and not Connor were the database entries that would pop up every so often. He'd devour them, Shaun's snarky humor mixed with the facts helped pull him out a bit, remind him that that was then and this was now.

It made it a little harder to synch properly, but helped the negative sides of the Bleeding Effect drastically.

Still, synching was hard enough as it was. Synching with Connor was easier than synching with Haytham, but every single time he got in the Animus, it felt like his mind was pulling him towards Ezio's memories.

He guessed it made sense, he'd spent way more time in Ezio's memories than anyone else's. That, compounded with the fact that Ezio's mind was the easiest to be in, kind and friendly and welcoming in its own way, despite the undercurrent of grief that would never go away, made it hard to pull away towards Connor's more single-minded, strictly honor-bound, thoughts when Desmond was stuck in the Animus loading screen.

Which, coincidentally, was where he was when everything went to shit.

Honestly, he didn't remember most of it. He just remembered the loading screen, the lance of pain that had shot through his head, and then hands trying to steady him as he rolled out of the Animus chair and onto the cool stone floor of the temple.

Lines throughout the entire temple were glowing just as bright and strong as the door deeper in, but he barely saw any of that.

It felt like someone had driven a railroad spike through his head and he squeezed his eyes shut and someone tugged him onto his back, Shaun was asking what happened.

Afterwards, he'd be glad it was Shaun and not Rebecca or his dad. Because, despite being a historian who spent eighty-five percent of his time either in front of a computer or pacing back and forth before the door in the temple and swearing at it, Shaun had insane reflexes and was about four times stronger than he looked.

And because, when Desmond opened his eyes he saw four Venetian guards closing in.

He didn't remember springing his Hidden Blade, he just remembered the look of surprise on Shaun's face after he automatically deflected the strike and pinned Desmond's arm against the side of the Animus.

The guards were still there, like an afterimage that refused to fade rather than the ghosts of the Bleeding Effect, but Shaun was clearer. Shaun and Rebecca and Dad, who were both standing on the other side of the Animus in a temporary state of shock.

And when Desmond realized exactly what is was he'd done, he was out from under Shaun in a flash and sprinting towards one of the many alcoves in the temple, somewhere they couldn't follow him.

They tried to call him back, but didn't follow, presumably because they knew they couldn't and he hadn't gone for the exit, just somewhere away from the lights where he could hide and process.

Because it was like he was back in the Animus, seeing through Ezio's eyes.

Even when Desmond's eyes were closed, there was a faint impression of running across the streets of Venice that he could watch. And he could smell the canals and feel the breeze at the same time he smelled the musty, dank temple and felt the cool stone where he was curled into a ball in the corner.

A while after all that, when he thought he could, he'd go down and apologize to Shaun and hear how something had happened to the temple that interacted with the Animus and made him have some kind of seizure. Dad was annoyed at the delay while Rebecca tore through the Animus code, looking for any permanent glitches and trying to figure out what had caused the problem in the first place.

And if they noticed the way he stuttered through a sentence because Ezio was bartering with an art dealer and he wasn't sure which conversation to pay attention to, they didn't say anything. Likewise, they just shot each other worried glances when he kept swatting at his neck because of the phantom sensations of rain pounding against a hood that wasn't there and the way he'd go to run a hand through hair that was much shorter than it was supposed to be.

He didn't mention it either. Because it wasn't the Bleeding Effect. So why should he?

---

Despite everything that had happened in recent years, Ezio wasn't prone to nightmares. And, honestly, he wasn't sure the dream he'd just bolted awake from had been one.

"Ezio? Is something the matter?"

Blinking blearily and trying to orient himself, Ezio looked around until he caught sight of Leonardo, hunched over a table of sketches, but looking over at him with concern.

"I am fine," he said automatically, glancing over to check that the chest that contained the Apple remained by his pillow. He'd brought it for Leonardo to examine and had remained to guard both it and the artist. Despite not being an Assassin himself, Leonardo was highly valued by the Brotherhood for both his skill and loyalty and, from what Ezio heard, the Venetian guards were becoming a bit too accustomed to pushing his friend around.

"A nightmare?" Leonardo questioned, putting aside his work and coming to sit next to Ezio.

"I am unsure," the assassin answered honestly, cracking the lid of the chest just a bit to catch a glimpse of the Apple's glow and reassure himself that it hadn't changed.

"But you have some idea, yes?" the artist prodded with a slightly indulgent smile, the one that said he knew the answer to his question, but was giving Ezio the opportunity to lie if he felt he needed to. Leonardo was a good friend.

Which was why Ezio felt the need to tell the truth, "It was a dream, yet, more than that." His brow furrowed as he tried to come up with the right words, "It was far away and many years from now, I believe. I was watching a young man, I think this," he rested a hand on the chest, "was showing him to me."

Leonardo nodded, familiar with and fascinated by the Apple's strange properties, even if he had yet to make sense of them.

"I think he might be famiglia, he looks..." he looked very much like Ezio himself, with close cropped hair and darker skin, down to the scar dividing his mouth, "He was in some sort of device, there were others, they... the machine was harming him, but he could not move and they would not help. I could feel his pain." His voice was near-silent by the time he finished, his hands clenched tightly in the blankets as he struggled with the urge to go to the aid of this strange young man.

A hand covered his own and tightened, bringing him back and making him focus on Leonardo.

"I know it does not make sense," Ezio said, looking away, "I-"

"I find the pursuit of sense often hinders the pursuit of truth," Leonardo said, "I believe you, amico mio. But what can be done? You said yourself he is many years from now and far away. If he is your famiglia, he is strong and clever. He will prevail."

"Perhaps," Ezio found himself staring at the chest that contained the Apple, "Perhaps."

---

Sorry if Desmond isn't crazy enough, OP. I hope you liked it anyway!

Re: Against Time | 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Oh dear lord, I just about had a seizure from the amount of loveloveLOVE I felt when I saw this.

It's perfect. Desmond's perfectly crazy; Ezio's perfectly protective; Leonardo's perfectly understanding. It's just... ALKSJFKGHLL I LOVE IT!!!!

I can't wait for more!

-OP

Re: Against Time | 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

very nice start!

Re: Against Time | 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

IDK about the OP, anon, but this passerby!anon liked it a lot. This is an excellent start and I hope there'll be more soon. Also, are you planning on this to be gen or slash? Not that it matters, I'd love to read it either way, but I'm curious.

Re: Against Time | 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

Interesting. I like it.

Re: Against Time | 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

I hope you're writing more right now, because I want it!

Re: Against Time | 1/?

[(Anonymous)]

totally stalking this

Against Time | 2/?

[(Anonymous)]

Oh wow, people liked this a lot more than I thought they would. Hi, people! OP, I'm glad you're enjoying! Anon who asked about slash or gen, I honestly don't know, I'm just kind of writing it and whatever happens happens. Also, sorry everyone, I meant to get this up about four hours ago, but then there were donuts and I got distracted. But it is here now!

---

He was no Rebecca, or even Shaun, but Desmond was perfectly capable of coming up with a few theories about what was happening on his own.

Well, 'few' theories... one, really. In the Animus, they jumped from memory to memory, using the ones that required less synchronization to get to the ones that require more. At this point, Desmond was fairly sure that whatever this was, it had to do with all the memories in between.

Honestly, it was something of a comfort, having Ezio in his head when he desynchronized on Connor's memories for the umpteenth time.

It turned out that having a head with two people's minds at work made it really hard to access a third. How Clay did it, Desmond had no idea, but it definitely explained the insanity.

Rebecca kept muttering about how the Animus itself was fine, but the second they put Desmond in it they started getting really weird readings. Dad looked about ready to blow a gasket at all the delays.

Shaun just kept staring at him, like he knew something was going on but thought the best way to get Desmond to spill was constant disapproving eye contact.

The only time Desmond could really synchronize correctly were those few hours when Ezio would sleep. Whatever memories his mind was plugged into seemed to play out in real time, so for a while there would just be stillness, a slight sense of warmth and comfort, and the smell of Leonardo's workshop (wet paint and wood). Occasionally, there'd be the impression of a dream, but it was mostly quiet.

So the second Ezio was out, Desmond was in the Animus. It didn't last as long as it needed to, his progress through Connor's memories was positively glacial, but the second Ezio started to come around it was like someone was driving a railway spike through Desmond's head.

When he came out of the Animus those times, blinking rapidly, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw hurt, Shaun cranked the disapproving stare up to eleven and Desmond had to fight the urge to flip him off.

This session was lasting longer than the others. At least, it felt that way and Desmond would take what he could get. He could tell when Ezio started to come around, but he was so close to finishing this memory, he ignored the pain as best he could and kept going.

It turned out to be a mistake.

---

Ezio had tried to put the dreams out of his mind, he truly had.

Leonardo was right, there was nothing that could be done, not without tampering with the Apple, which was not something to be done lightly.

Ignoring it was an easy thing to say, but in practice it was near impossible. Not when he would close his eyes and simply watch as that young man was restrained and tormented.

He wasn't sure why he was being forced to watch this, but wanted nothing more than to end it. Too much of his family had faced hardship, it went against his nature to allow it to continue.

Then came the day that the pain he felt for the young man did not end when he woke.

At first he didn't understand what was happening, the sight of the inside of Leonardo's workshop had never been accompanied by such pain before. It was driving through his head, disrupting his thoughts so much it was a hardship to even remember to breathe.

He cast his eyes about desperately and saw the glow of the Apple, shining brightly through the cracks of the chest it was locked away in.

"Ezio," there was a faint clatter from across the room, "Ezio, what is wrong??"

"Mi dispace, Leonardo," Ezio managed over his labored breathing, groping for the chest and throwing it open, "I cannot leave him there."

The Apple felt warm in his hand and suddenly it did not matter that he didn't know how to use it. It leeched away his desperation and fed him power in return.

The workshop filled with light.

---

Shaun nearly fell off the bridge when Desmond screamed.

Normally, he'd have been camped out next to the Animus whenever a session was going on, especially after Desmond had that seizure, but this session had been going so well that he went to test one of his hypotheses about the temple door.

Clearly, he'd overestimated their good fortune.

And the sounds Desmond was making, it was like he was being slowly murdered, which meant a hell of a lot given how high his pain tolerance was.

So Shaun ran, snapping his legs out to their full length as he sprinted across the bridge toward the Animus.

"Get him out of there!" William was shouting, holding Desmond down on the Animus with difficulty as his son tried to arch away.

"I'm trying!" Rebecca shouted back, fingers flying across her keyboard, "It's not working, it's like the program's frozen. It shouldn't be able to do that!"

Glowing blue lines sprang into existence all around them, snaking across the temple floor and converging on the Animus.

The Animus started to glow golden. Rebecca yelped as her keyboard sparked and burned her, William shouted in surprise as he was flung away from the machine.

Shaun skidded to a halt, reflexively covering his face against the bright light enveloping Desmond and, by extension, the Animus. He tried to press forward, squinting through the light just enough to see the familiar silhouette of a hooded man made entirely of light reaching out to touch Desmond's face.

The light flashed one more time, so brightly he was sure for a moment that he'd been blinded, then dissipated.

The temple was still, dark, and quiet once more. But the Animus was empty.

Deep inside the temple, they heard Juno scream.

---

When the light beyond his eyelids finally darkened, Leonardo risked opening his eyes.

Ezio was unconscious, but the rise and fall of his chest was, thankfully, easy to spot. The most shocking thing was that there was a second man, a younger one garbed in strange clothes, sprawled across the bed and Ezio's legs.

The second man was also unconscious, uneven breath rasping through scarred lips that matched Ezio's. His head and shoulders were in Ezio's lap, his fingers grasping weakly at Ezio's shirt while the Assassin's left arm was curled securely around the young man's back, keeping him close.

In Ezio's right hand was the Apple, darkened now. Leonardo carefully plucked it out of the his friend's grasp, returning it to the chest and closing it firmly. After a moment, he also pushed it under a nearby table and piled half-finished projects around it before turning back to his guests.

The resemblance was clear, the young man was certainly related to Ezio. And even from where he stood, Leonardo could see he was feverish, probably ill. He needed treatment.

"Che Dio ci aiuti," he whispered under his breath, going to fetch medical supplies.

---

Updates are going to slow down during the week, as I have school and work, but I will try to get at least one more part up before next weekend!

Against Time | 3/?

[(Anonymous)]

I can just feel my Psychology grade divebombing straight into hell as I post this part, but it just wouldn't leave me alone!

---

Desmond was about ninety-five percent sure he was dead, or at least working on getting there.

Because his head was throbbing and hot, but he was also in a bed covered by warm blankets and it didn't smell like a hospital. It smelled like Leonardo's workshop, so clearly that wasn't right.

God, when was the last time he'd been in a bed?

He struggled to focus his senses when all he wanted to do was sink deeper into the pillows (yeah, pillows, as in more than one) and go back to sleep until his head stopped hurting. It had been drilled into him pretty much since birth that if you don't know where you are and make no effort to find out, you deserve whatever happens to you.

Opening his eyes was a bit beyond his current capabilities, or so he thought until something cool was draped across his forehead and he jumped badly.

"Ah, mi dispace."

This wasn't a memory he'd ever seen before. Grimacing, he forced his eyes open and tried to make the image swimming in front of his eyes solidify through sheer willpower. Eventually, it did- into a man with sandy hair, light eyes and a fond smile.

Yeah, that was definitely Leonardo. But the HUD of the Animus was missing, he couldn't feel anything beyond the covers piled up to his neck so he wasn't having another moment like before, and he hurt too much to be dreaming.

Actually, come to think of it, when had he fallen asleep?

"How are you feeling?"

Before he had a chance to say or do anything, a pounding knock came at the door and the pleasant expression on Leonardo's face vanished. He snapped his head toward the door, frowned, then turned back to Desmond.

"Stay here."

Then he flipped the blankets over Desmond's head and the ex-bartender made a surprised noise that, if possible, made his head hurt even more. Small miracles.

One benefit (for a given definition of benefit) of having spent so much time in Ezio's memories was that he didn't even have to hear distinct words to recognize the self-righteous tone of a guard outside and the nervously placating words of Leonardo as the painter stepped outside and closed the door.

Clearly, Leonardo was trying to lure the guard away from him. Well, away from Ezio. This had to be one of the memories that Desmond hadn't relived, a vivid dream, like the one with Altair and Maria. A very vivid dream. That didn't go away with pain.

This must have been a time Ezio was sick or hurt and had gone to hide out in the workshop. Desmond didn't feel injured, but sick? Definitely. His skin felt cold and clammy and tight and overheated all at the same time and he had the worst headache of his life. He could actually feel the pressure in his head, like his brain was pressing against his skull and that was a pretty horrible mental image.

It was impossible to tell where Ezio's pain ended and Desmond's began. But he could still hear Leonardo outside, the guard's tone getting increasingly agitated, and he knew that he had to do something. What was it with the guards and bothering Leonardo?

He forced his fingers to unclench from where they were holding tightly to something under the blankets and rolled toward the door, falling off the bedding to land on his hands and knees with a jolt that lanced through his head in a way he honestly thought he might pass out from. When the urge to vomit passed, he stood, fought it back again, and lurched toward the door.

The guard didn't even hear the door open behind him. His hand was raised to strike and Desmond moved almost without thought. Muscle memory was a weird thing when you didn't exactly remember using those muscles that way before and they clearly disagreed with you.

One hand covered the guard's mouth, a flick of the other brought out the hidden blade on the opposite wrist and one quick shove under the armor slid the blade right between his ribs.

He was dragging the body inside before he even really registered what had happened and by the time he did Leonardo was closing the door and directing him to where he needed to put the corpse. The artist was very casual about the whole stabbing thing, but he was probably used to it. Maybe he wasn't an Assassin, but Desmond had been paying attention to the fact that it was Leonardo who had pointed Ezio toward La Volpe, knew where to find Antonio, suggested talking to Sister Teodora, and figured out the prophecy of the Codex.

"There," Leonardo said, reaching out a hand to steady Desmond when he temporarily forgot which way was up, "Grazie for your help. Now, would you mind telling me your name?"

Desmond waited patiently for his uncooperative brain to make that sentence make sense, but someone else spoke before it could.

"I am curious as well," Ezio was standing behind him in a simple shirt and pants, looking rumpled and a bit peaky, but strangely pleased with himself. Again, Desmond waited for the universe to start making sense. The universe did not take advantage of this generous opportunity. Seeming to remember something, Ezio turned to Leonardo, "You should have mentioned the guards were giving you trouble."

"If guards who come to investigate my workshop keep disappearing, I will have to return to Firenze. Again."

Ezio lifted one shoulder in a shrug of acknowledgement and it was right about then that the only explanation that made any sense finally registered in Desmond's mind and he looked down at his hands.

One hidden blade, not two. Blood covered his right hand, cold and sticky now, soaking into the cuff of his hoodie, the new one they'd had to get after the first one was stained with blood from when Lucy...

This was a hallucination, it had to be. He dimly realized he was starting to hyperventilate

Something warm trickled down the side of his face, his neck, then into his collar. Ezio's eyes widened, "Fratello, perhaps you should-"

Good news- Leonardo was stronger than he looked. Bad news- Desmond's legs had decided to take the day off.

"Thanks, Leonardo," he muttered right before the world tilted dangerously and everything went sort of fuzzy.

---

"Will he be alright?" Ezio asked nervously. Between himself and Leonardo, they had managed to transfer the stranger from the floor back to the bed and Leonardo had succeeded in staunching the small trickle of blood that had begun to fall from the stranger's ear.

"It is hard to say," Leonardo said honestly, hands fluttering over their unconscious guest, "From the look of him, he should not have been able to stand. It is very strange, I could have sworn he was unarmed, yet he carries the same blade as you. And this clothing- the material is like nothing I've ever seen."

"The technique he used is one trained by the Assassins, so that explains the blade," Ezio leaned against a wall, pushed off it, and started pacing, "What we need to know is what is wrong with him."

"If I had to guess, I would say it is stress," the genius offered, "massive amount of stress on both his body and mind. That, plus whatever that device you saw did to him. We may just have to keep him comfortable and still and hope he can heal with time."

Ezio's scarred mouth twisted into a grimace, but he didn't have anything better to offer, "What can I do to help?"

"You can go and fetch supplies," Leonardo said, looking intently at the small metal tab on the front of the young man's outer garment, toying with it for a moment before pulling on it and looking amazed as the cloth split harmlessly, "I will see to it he has no other injuries."

"Molto bene, what do we need?"

When he didn't get a response, Ezio looked back from where he'd been pulling on his robes to see Leonardo looking down at where he'd managed to free the stranger of his top half of garments. The young man was thin, worryingly so, and old bruises littered his torso, all in different stages of healing.

Taking several steps forward, Ezio reached out a hand to curve around the bumps of ribs he'd been able to see from across the room.

"I think," Leonardo said carefully, "we should start with more food."

"Si," Ezio muttered darkly, turning toward the door, "Much more."

"Ezio," the inventor hesitated, "I trust you, and he has already save my life, but... he called me by name. He clearly is from far in the future, so why would he know my name? It makes so little sense."

The assassin could not help but feel a swell of pride in his friend at that, "You undervalue your own importance, amico."

Ezio clasped Leonardo's shoulder once, then left.

---

I'm not the only one who thought Desmond looked really thin in AC3, right? It may have just been the lighting in the creepy temple, but I have this headcanon that, what with the stress and the running around and the being in the Animus for days and not eating, Desmond just lost a bunch of weight really fast. And the bruises are just from climbing all over creation, he is pretty inexperienced at it.

OH HAI I WANT TO FILL THIS TOO (but not using Ezio)

[(Anonymous)]

Does it have to specifically be the Apple? Or could any piece of eden do the trick with the appropriate hand waving?

Against Time | 4/?

[(Anonymous)]

*stumbles in clutching a bottle of soda and a scantron* SORRY! Sorry I've been so late in updating, I hope this is in time for the anon who requested an update before they went out of town! School has just been really crazy and I HAD to do something on my novel revisions or I was going to have to flee the country. Hope this makes up for it a little!

---

They weren't idiots, they'd known something was going on.

The way Desmond would sometimes climb to a place none of the rest of them could reach, sit on an outcropping, and stare blankly, for hours, was enough to show something was up. Maybe they weren't quite sure what, if the Bleeding Effect had ramped up or if this was something else, but the way Desmond was indulging his hallucinations now spoke volumes about the situation they were in.

And now Desmond was gone and Juno was throwing a royal hissy fit farther inside the temple. Apparently, she hadn't seen this coming either. She'd come out to yell at them until Rebecca fired a taser at her and screwed up the projection for half an hour.

After that, Juno retreated deeper into the temple and William had them running every kind of diagnostic known to man on the Animus. Even then, Rebecca invented a few of her own.

Shaun, though, was going through the code line by line up until Desmond vanished. It looked like, ever since Desmond's seizure, something odd had been happening every time the Animus loaded a new memory of Connor. He'd seen that code before, he knew it.

"Rebecca, come look at this," Shaun called softly. William had dozed off in his chair about ten minutes ago- he'd already been up for twenty-five hours when Desmond vanished and it had been eight hours since then.

Having gotten the memo for silence, Rebecca walked quietly over to him, draping herself over his shoulder to stare at his monitor.

"That's Ezio's code," she said in surprise, batting his hand away to take control of his keyboard, leaving him to just sit there and look pretty while her chin dug into the top of his head, "What's it doing there?"

"I haven't the foggiest," he whispered back, "but there's a load more of it just before Desmond's seizure and right when he vanished."

"What about these lines?" Rebecca asked, highlighting part of the code, "I haven't seen that before."

"Looks like gibberish," Shaun muttered, "like those nonsensical emails we've been getting."

After humming agreement, Rebecca froze, "You're right. It's not exactly like them, but there's too many similarities for it to be a coincidence. Keep looking for more examples, I'll start some comparisons."

Pulling his glasses off, Shaun spared a moment to rub at his eyes and curse the completely inane situations Desmond could get himself into. He'd been trying not to contemplate too hard on possibilities, preferring instead to simply seek out answers rather than trying to will them into existence, but the longer they went without answers, the more he couldn't help but wonder.

What on Earth had happened to Desmond?

---

Desmond had decided he didn't like blankets anymore.

They'd been nice and soft and warm earlier, but now they felt like they were scratching at his skin and suffocating him. Every time he kicked them off, someone pulled them back on. He wanted to tell them to stop, but he couldn't quite remember how to make his mouth work.

His head hurt so bad.

Every so often, someone would haul him up and make him drink something, sometimes water sometimes something thick and foul, and he hated them for it. But he couldn't get his eyes to focus or his arms to move and at least the water was cold, so he gave in to the strong careful hands and drifted in and out of awareness.

After a particularly long period of blackness, he woke up to grey predawn light coming in through the shutters. His head still hurt like a bitch, but at least it didn't feel like it was going to break through his skull anymore.

Ezio was sitting near his feet, a small candle nearby letting him read a scroll that he looked away from when he felt Desmond's eyes on him. "Buongiorno. Your fever broke earlier this morning. How are you feeling?"

It took a second for Desmond to remember why Ezio was there and even longer for him to figure out how to respond to that question, "Better." It felt like he was choking on the word and Ezio stood, pouring a cup of water and passing it over, "Thanks."

"Nessun problema," Ezio sat back down and pinned Desmond with that particular gaze. Now Desmond knew what the recruits were always cowering about when they screwed up, "What is your name?"

That was actually a bit trickier to answer than it should have been. Because if he'd already been to the Vault, Desmond could hardly tell Ezio his real name without having to fend a lot of questions. Hell, Desmond had a lot of questions of his own and he needed to figure out at least a little of what was going on before he knew what he needed to lie about.

"Desmond Miles," he said after a moment. Ezio was rocking some scruff, but nothing like he'd been when he went to the Vatican. And from what he'd seen of Leonardo, his beard was still short and he was relatively free and unwatched by Cesare, if he was meeting with Ezio in his workshop. So Desmond was probably fine giving his real name.

It someone had told him a year ago that he'd be using facial hair to guess the year... he'd probably have reacted the same way he would if they told him he'd be seeing the Renaissance firsthand, actually.

"Desmond..." Ezio said contemplatively, "That is not a common name."

Desmond shrugged because, really, what could he say to that?

"Well, Desmond," Ezio stood and snuffed out the candle, plunging the room into darkness. Desmond shifted to Eagle Vision instinctively and was almost blinded by the blaze of blue that surrounded Ezio as his ancestor walked farther into the workshop. If possible, it made his head ache even more, "I must talk to Leonardo and you must continue to rest if you are to recover."

Honestly, Desmond wanted to argue that a bit, but at the moment being conscious just seemed like more trouble than it was worth. When he stopped feeling his pulse in his brain, he'd be better equipped to deal with this.

Also, he needed to find a tactful way to ask what the year was.

---

I know it's short, but at least it's the weekend now and I should be updating at least once more! Sorry again for the delay!

Against Time | 5/?

[(Anonymous)]

Guess who's been playing Brotherhood and procrastinating all day?

Me, the answer is me.

---

"Is he awake?" Leonardo asked as Ezio quietly slipped inside and closed the door behind him.

"Si, he was, but he's gone back to sleep now."

Seeing the pensive look on his friend's face, Leonardo chanced asking, "What's troubling you?"

"He seems very... comfortable here. He didn't ask where he was or who I was. It is as though he already knows," Ezio rubbed at the back of his neck, thinking, "I do not believe he is dangerous to us, but he knows far more than he should, that much is clear."

"Well, you said yourself that he appears to be trained in Assassination techniques. Perhaps he has heard stories?"

"Perhaps, but he should not be able to recognize me on sight," Ezio sat on a nearby bench absentmindedly. "When he is well, I will take him through Venice and see how much he has been trained. For now," he reached into one of the many hidden pockets on his person and retrieved a scroll, "I have something for you."

"Ah, another Codex page!" Leonardo snatched it up and Ezio could only be amazed that his friend's enthusiasm for decryption had only seemed to grow stronger over the years, "How exciting!"

As he had many times before, Ezio sat back and prepared himself for several hours that would consist solely of Leonardo muttering excitedly under his breath.

---

Working as he usually did long hours with very small text, Shaun had long ago learned to recognize the signs of headaches in comrades and gauge their severity.

William looked like he was heading dangerously close to migraine territory.

"So what you're telling me," the older man said slowly, like he was making absolutely certain that they knew that screwing up their diagnosis of what had happened to his son would have extremely dire consequences, "Is that what happened had something to do with Ezio and a Piece of Eden, but you're not exactly sure why it has anything to do with Ezio or why a Piece of Eden was able to interact with both the temple, the Animus, and Desmond? And that, whatever this was, the entire First Civilization apparently completely missed it as a possibility when they were looking into the future to figure out how to save the planet from burning? And we have no clues on what actually did happen to him? Am I getting this right?"

Maybe he would have taken this better if he'd had more than two hours of sleep. Maybe Shaun could convince Rebecca to drug William's coffee. He could bribe her with yogurt. And then hide when William woke up.

"We don't know for sure that the First Civ missed it," Rebecca responded carefully, "We're just guessing from Juno's temper tantrum. And we're working on pinpointing exactly what happened. The animus recorded it all, so we at least have some clues to work with. We're cross-referencing the code with the data we've already gathered to see if anything matches, but it could take a while."

"If there's one thing we don't have right now, it's time," William groused, but he knew they didn't have a choice. They all knew that. "Alright. What can I do to help find him?"

---

Desmond was maybe a little in love with Leonardo.

He figured that anyone would have the same reaction after coming out of what was apparently two straight days of sleep to find a pitcher of water, several different fruits, a load of bread, and a hunk of cheese sitting on the table next to their head.

Now if only he could get his shirt back, everything would be awesome.

Neither Leonardo or Ezio was anywhere in sight, but Desmond's headache was better (not gone, but certainly improved) and he managed to clean up a bit with some of the water and a corner of one of the many blankets so this was already turning out to be a pretty good day.

After standing and holding on to one corner of the table until the initial wave of dizziness had passed, he took a look around the workshop, careful not to touch anything. He saw drafts of a few paintings, none of which he recognized, a few sketches of strange contraptions, the mangled remains of the flying machine hung from the ceiling like some kind of partially charred trophy, and, finally, his hoodie, shirt, shoes, and hidden blade on the far table. Nearby pieces of paper showed sketches of the zipper and Desmond really hoped he hadn't somehow fucked up history with a zipper.

Thank God they hadn't gone into his pockets and found his cellphone.

He pulled on his shirt and hoodie, then tugged on his shoes. Grabbing his hidden blade, he slid it onto his arm and secured it, already feeling himself relax slightly at the familiar weight.

He really should have known better.

"Going somewhere?"

It was only some sort of deep-rooted instinct to avoid embarrassment that kept Desmond from jumping five feet into the air and shrieking. He hadn't even heard the door open.

"I wasn't planning on it," he told Ezio honestly, flicking out his hand to spring the blade experimentally, then sheathing it again, "I just don't like to not have this on hand."

"Hmm," there was that look again, "You seem to be feeling better."

"I am," it was true, at least. Maybe in a day or two the headache would even be gone.

"Bene," Ezio turned to the door, "Come with me."

"Where are we going?" Desmond tried, without much hope.

"Out."

He knew it.

---

Please excuse the shortness of this, that was just the best place to end it.

Against Time | 6/?

[(Anonymous)]

Aha! I managed to squeeze one more fill out of this weekend!

---

"Now," Ezio said, when they were on top of the tallest fucking tower in Venice, "I'd like to ask you a few things."

Desmond had a vague hope that Ezio and Leonardo wouldn't have spent so much effort to make sure his brain wouldn't kill him only for Ezio to push him off the top of a tower if he didn't answer the necessary questions exactly right. Gotta keep that hope alive.

"Uh, sure man," he agreed, fighting the urge to just sit down in the very center of the roof so he wouldn't keep feeling like he was going to fall any second. He'd been up here as Ezio before, thanks to Shaun's love affair with Renaissance architecture, but it was different when falling could have very real consequences. At least it was cloudy out, so the sun wasn't murdering his head, "What do you want to know?"

Ezio's eyes narrowed. Shit. "I would like to know why you are in possession of the skills to keep up with me as I climb."

"Ah, well-"

"I would also like to know how you came by that blade and the technique to wield it."

"Yeah, funny story-"

"And I would like to know how it is I dreamed of your plight and was able to use the Apple to call you here and why you seem so knowledgeable of this time and location despite the fact that you come from many years from now and far away."

Okay, well, at least that solved the whole problem about Ezio knowing he was from the future. Still, Desmond knew he needed to tread lightly. If someone suddenly showed up and said they'd lived through all the memories in his head, he'd probably shoot them in the crotch. Did Ezio have his pistol yet? Yeah, if he had the Apple, he had the pistol. Awesome.

Still, there was also one thing he needed to ask.

"My 'plight'?"

Ezio gave him a look, but answered, "I saw your captors put you in that strange machine. I do not know what it did, but I felt your pain as my own."

Oh... okay, that explained the Apple-kidnapping. And suddenly the lingering suspicion that this is all come crazy hallucination flew out the window because this situation might actually plausibly be happening.

Giving into impulse, Desmond sat down right where he stood because he was nearly positive he was going to fall if he didn't. But what was the thing about captors? Did he see what happened back at Abstergo or- oh. Ezio thought Desmond's dad and Shaun and Rebecca were forcing him to use the Animus. This was just getting better and better.

"Perhaps you should have rested a bit more," Ezio said reluctantly. Desmond could only imagine how pale he'd gotten.

It was best to start where he wouldn't have to lie, he guessed. He swallowed once, twice, and started to talk, trying very hard not to stare because that was actually Ezio.

"I was born into the Brotherhood..."

---

Rebecca had been whipping her head back and forth between two monitors nonstop for the past four minutes and if she didn't quit second guessing herself Shaun was going to go over there and snap her headphones in half.

Upon reflection of that thought, he realized the sleep deprivation was really starting to wear on all of them.

"Find anything, Rebecca?" he asked in the most genial voice he could muster when his eyes burned whether they were open or shut.

"Um..." Well, that tone of voice was a yes, if a hesitant one. But why would it be a problem if she'd found something they could work with? The computer technician shot a look over at where William was hovering over a laptop. Right. If they didn't get his son back soon there was going to be hell to pay. So maybe Rebecca had found something, but it wasn't something they could work with?

Standing and rolling his shoulders to try to coax the vertebrae in his spine back into some sort of proper alignment, Shaun wandered over to her station as casually as he could manage and asked quietly, "What is it?"

Waving her hand at the code on the left, she said "This is the code from when Ezio infiltrated the Vatican," she gestured to the right screen, "this is the one we recorded from when Desmond disappeared. And this," she highlighted two very similar strings of code on the monitors, "is what showed up when someone used the Apple."

He could be forgiven for needing a minute to work through that, "Are you telling me that it was the Apple that snatched Desmond right out from under us?" he pointed to the small container by the Animus, "the Apple that no one has taken out of there since we arrived?" Shaun had personally double checked the location of the Apple after Desmond had disappeared and it hadn't changed at all.

"Yeah, and what's weirder," Rebecca highlighted two different chunks of code on the left screen, "the code is different depending on who's using the Apple. This is Rodrigo and this is Ezio. And over here..."

Shaun squinted at the right screen, took off his glasses, cleaned them on his sweater, rubbed his eyes tiredly, put his glasses back on, and gave the screen a well-deserved second look, "That says that Ezio took Desmond. Using the Apple."

"I was kinda hoping you'd tell me I was wrong."

Glancing over at William, Shaun understood Rebecca's hesitation to bring this up. It was crazy, even for them. But Minerva had left a message for Desmond from thousands upon thousands of years in the past. The idea that Ezio could reach across time from only a few hundred years ago wasn't the most insane thing they'd seen in the last few months.

Still, that didn't really help them figure out what to do with this information. And they couldn't exactly keep it from William now. All that remained to be determined was who would have to tell the emotionally chaotic father that his son had been kidnapped by someone who'd been dead for roughly half a millennium and they had no idea how to get him back.

Digging a hand into his pocket, Shaun produced a coin, "Call it in the air."

First Fill Writer!Anon Here

[(Anonymous)]

Hey, writer!anon here. Sorry for the lack of updates this past week and weekend, things have gotten a little more hectic with school, work, and holidays than I thought it would. My finals this semester are a smattering of research papers and two Psych classes, all of which I need to be working on. Add that to working and the book revisions I have to get done and the fact that the holidays are upon us and this anon has a very, er, rocky familial situation and my time is being eaten up and any time I get to myself goes toward trying to get my stress levels down.

Now, don't worry, I'm definitely going to finish this story, I'm not planning on it being too much longer, but I might have to take a little time before I can tackle it. Bear with me please, fellow anons!

Against Time | 7/?

[(Anonymous)]

Writer!anon felt very, very bad about having to take a short break from the story, so she pounded out the next chapter really quickly and now her eyes are burning and she has to be at work in four hours, but she feels better about herself as a person and hopes this makes sense and that you enjoy!

---

By the end of his story, Desmond was only half paying attention to the words he was saying. The other half of his attention was entirely on Ezio's incredibly impressive poker face. The man wasn't even twitching. Desmond had no idea whatsoever if Ezio believed him or not. He was hoping so. He didn't want to get pushed off the church.

Though, he doubted he'd get pushed off after Ezio and Leonardo had gone through so much trouble to keep him alive. They'd seemed to know who he was, sort of, which was strange. They'd been so amicable. Sure, Ezio was giving him the third degree now, but before he'd been pretty relaxed. Of course, before Desmond could barely stand up on his own. That probably had something to do with it.

What he really wanted to know was how exactly he got to Venice and whether he was actually in Venice or this was just another massive hallucination. A really detailed hallucination that he'd somehow managed to work himself into. He doubted it, because he'd never had his own body in the Bleeding Effect dreams before, that had always been a blurring of the lines between him and Ezio and really hadn't been as much of a problem ever since he woke up from that coma. Still, it was hard to break the habit of questioning reality after it had been so ingrained in him lately.

It was only while he was winding down in his retelling of events that Desmond saw the analytical light in Ezio's eyes and realized that he wasn't just giving background on himself, he was providing the second half to a story. He just needed the first half to go with it.

"... And then I woke up in Leonardo's workshop. You know the rest." Hunching his shoulders under his hoodie, Desmond squinted out against the light of the setting sun that reflected off the canals and right into his eyes.

"So this machine, this 'Animus', allows you to view the past?" Ezio asked. His voice was controlled. Carefully controlled.

Desmond swallowed and dug deep for some white lies, "As a passive observer, yeah. We needed to find a way to help the planet, so we went looking for people who might know. Unfortunately, most of those people were dead."

"And the Templars continue to attempt to gain control."

"Mostly they're just trying to do the same thing we are now. But they're trying to save the world so they can eventually enslave it. We're trying to save it so it can, well, just keep doing its thing." The breeze coming off the canals was cold without the sun to heat things.

Ezio's was looking a little too contemplative, "That machine was harming you, yet you continued to use it."

Desmond shrugged, "It's me or the world and I gotta say, my life hasn't exactly been contributing until this point. Fair enough, I think."

If Ezio frowned any harder his eyebrow were going to jump off his face and punch Desmond in the head. Time for a change of subject.

"What about you?"

Blinking in surprise, Ezio tilted his head, "What about me?"

"I don't remember what happened between laying down in the Animus that last time and waking up in the Leonardo's workshop. I know I didn't jump here on my own. And you said you dreamed about me and used the Apple to call me here. What's with that?"

Something the Animus hadn't really shown him was how hard Ezio really did think things over when he had the time to do so. After a moment, the Italian's mouth quirked up just slightly and he stood, "I believe that conversation requires the presence of Leonardo. Andiamo."

When Ezio leapt from the tower, he did it so casually that it took Desmond a moment to realize why it was so strange.

And then, when he realized he was expected to follow, he made a fist and clonked himself lightly in the forehead. Why did he get born into a family of crazy Assassins? Sure it was really interesting and important, but they jumped off buildings for Christ's sake. Why not dentists? Perfectly reasonable dentists would probably have been a much better fit. Though they'd probably have been equally disappointed in their bartending, motorcycle driving son, at least that would take the form of awkward holidays rather than the son being drugged, kidnapped, and spirited out of the country by a rival group intent on the enslavement of mankind.

There were some days he didn't entirely believe that he hadn't slipped on a spilled drink while on shift, cracked his head on the counter, slipped into a coma, and spent the last few months in an increasingly elaborate dream.

Ah well. He got into position for a leap of faith. At least this was fun sometimes.

He jumped.

---

"Are you seriously telling me that Ezio kidnapped him from the past?!"

There were days that Shaun was very pleased that he kept a trick coin on him as a souvenir from home. This was one of those days.

"Hey, I'm not telling you anything," Rebecca said, backing away from a William, who was steadily going more purple, and gesturing to the computer screens, "That's just what the code says. Take it up with the code."

"I'm not going to 'take it up with the code'. Even if that is true, how do we get Desmond back?"

"It's possible that the fact that the Apple was so close to both Desmond and the Animus made it easier to connect to the version of itself from Ezio's time," Shaun thought out loud. "It's possible that, now the connection has been made, we could try to access Ezio's Apple and bring Desmond back. I wouldn't recommend it of course, but as our situation does rather fit the definition of 'desperation'-"

"The Apple is dangerous," Rebecca broke in, "You remember Altair's Codex pages, what happened with Lucy. Des couldn't control himself. If he's with Ezio, he's safe. We know what'll happen if we pit past and future versions of the Apple against each other."

"We don't know," William agreed. "But we don't have a choice. We need Desmond, so we have to try. Time's running out."

---

Writer!anon hopes to return soon to finish out this story and thanks everyone for being so understanding in the meantime!

Re: Crazy!Desmond, Time travel

[(Anonymous)]

shame this thread's gone quiet. i liked those stories

Against Time Write!Anon

[(Anonymous)]

*peeks head in* Hello? Yes, I do not know if anyone is still reading this, but I am still alive and terribly, terribly sorry for leaving this story for so long. Whether or not anyone is still reading, I will be making a concentrated effort to finish up this story over the next week or two (I'm not sure how much longer it's going to wind up being. Maybe five parts?).

Once again, terribly sorry.

Against Time | 8/?

[(Anonymous)]

Oh, God, don't murder me, please, I'm sorry!

--

When the sun wasn't shining bright overhead and making Desmond's migraine worse, he found that he quite liked Venice. He remembered it at carnevale, all bright colors and lights and fireworks... it had been wonderful.

But even though it was nowhere near carnevale, the spirit of Venice seemed to be just as strong. As the city wound down for the evening, its energy didn't dissipate at all. All that happened was the day crowd slowly began to be replaced by the night crowd.

Ezio gave a friendly wave to some courtesans Desmond vaguely recognized and they laughed amongst themselves, a few waving back.

"Who's your friend, Ezio?" One called. She was wearing a pale green dress and had something predatory about her grin. Not Templar predatory, but definitely enough to make Desmond hunch his shoulders under his hoodie and try not to blush. Laughing, Ezio just waved again as they walked past, ignoring the disappointed groans.

Leonardo's workshop was just around the corner and Desmond nearly walked right past it when he found himself staring in awe at a blacksmith's shop. It was a blacksmith he'd seen in the Animus before, but in Ezio's mind it was just a blacksmith's shop. It was a whole other thing for Desmond to hear the ringing sounds of metal on metal as the workers forged, smell and feel the heat radiating from the shop.

Ezio's hand snagged him by the back of his hood before he could walk into a wall, tugging him into the entrance of Leonardo's shop, "Distracted, fratello?"

"Curious," Desmond corrected, determined not to be embarrassed at being hauled around by his hoodie. He had the advantage of knowing Ezio did that to his recruits in the future, used hoods and capes as handholds and to position recruits where they were needed and to keep Ulrico, the most... lively recruit, from chasing after courtesans.

Attempting to shrug it off, he followed his ancestor, lifting his head to see Leonardo's smile as the artist greeted them happily.

Then his foot landed on the inside of the threshold and his entire world went white.

--

"I would like to go on the record as stating I think this is an awful idea, but have nothing to offer in alternative," Shaun said plainly.

"Consider it recorded," William said, lifting the Apple from its box next to the Animus. Of the three of them, despite Shaun's knowledge of history and Rebecca's knowledge of technology, William was the one with the bloodline to use the artifact, much to the others' chagrin.

Rebecca was practically vibrating in her chair, fingers twitching as they typed, "I've got it narrowed down to a few years, but nothing exact. You're going to have to find the exact 'when'. Fortunately, I can tell you that you should be looking in Venice."

"Timeline and geography might not mean much once you start with that thing, though," Shaun brought a hand up to rub at his mouth as he thought. "You might try just focusing on Desmond as strongly as you can and trying to get the Apple to lead you to him before you try to use it for anything."

William didn't respond, just clenched his fingers more tightly against the smooth surface of the Apple. Light flared, both from the Apple and the Temple. Static hovered over the nearest chasm. Rebecca had had to taze Juno again to keep her from interrupting. It looked like the 'goddess' was still having trouble materializing.

Still, lightshow aside, it was the tamest use of the Apple Shaun had ever seen. William didn't seem to be struggling with it, though there was something in his face like.... frustration?

"He's there..." William was muttering, "but he's not close enough..."

Looking over, Shaun met Rebecca's eyes and found in them the same uncertainty he was feeling. Should they ask for clarification? Would that disturb William's concentration, his search for his son? Should they just sit back and observe?

Something in the air seem to sharpen abruptly. Something unfamiliar twisted in William's face.

"There."

In an instant, the light became blinding and there was a screeching, grating, metallic sound that felt like it resonated to Shaun's bones.

And there was nothing he could do.

--

"Desmond!"

Desmond's body was enveloped in white light, held suspended a short distance from the floor. A beam of light led from him to the shaking chest under piles of half finished projects, the one that contained the Apple.

Leonardo watched for an instant, trying to decide what course of action to take, but Auditores were more the 'act first, analyze later' type and Ezio lunged forward, stretching out a hand to make contact with Desmond.

Another flash of light and Ezio was on the floor, clutching his hand.

Whatever was going to be done needed to be done soon and could not be done directly to Desmond. Rather, it was the Apple that was causing the situation, so it was the Apple that must be dealt with.

Projects were sent scattering as Leonardo hurried to unearth the Apple. He wasn't sure what he planned to do with it, but surely something must be possible.

The instant he opened the lid of the chest, the Apple shot out, streaking over his shoulder and toward Desmond before he even fully registered the movement.

A heavy 'smack' filled the room and, by the time he turned, Ezio had gotten to his feet and braced the against the floor, struggling to hold the golden sphere back with his good hand from where it was straining to reach his descendant.

It was easy to see the stress in his face, the way he was trying to force the Apple to obey him, as it had before. But it wasn't working this time.

There were very few occasions on which Leonardo acted without thinking something through, at least for an instant. That moment, though, was one of them.

Scrambling forward, he threw his hand out, his thin fingers falling into the gaps of Ezio's calloused ones as his palm landed against the heated golden metal.

Sensations immediately flooded his mind. There were two opposing forces, one distantly familiar, the other far more so. It was but a thought that allowed him to lend the strength of his mind to Ezio's.

Almost instantly, the other presence vanished.

The light flickered out of existence, the Apple cooled in their joint grasp.

Desmond finally hit the floor.

Against Time | 9/?

[(Anonymous)]

OMG you guys are still here??? *straightens shirt* *fixes hair* I am SO SORRY this took so long, I just got caught up with two books I had to finish writing and new classes and work and family and adkfha;sdfh SORRY.

Oh, I almost forgot-

*revives OP*

---

When Desmond returned to consciousness, it was with a great deal of reluctance and no small amount of mental swearing.

He felt like he'd been hit by a planet. That was covered in spikes. While on fire.

On the upside, there was something soft under his head, even though it did feel like he was on the floor. The wood scratched against his oversensitive skin when he flexed his fingers, just to make sure they still worked.

"Desmond?"

It was so strange to hear his name in that accent. The way Leonardo said it made it sound... denser, like it was just more.

He forced his eyes open and figured that the blur over his head was probably the ever-familiar artist, "What happened?" Light was all he remembered, but whatever had happened had breathed angry life back into his previously-fading headache.

"I believe the Apple reacted to your presence," Leonardo mused, moving to sit cross-legged at Desmond's side, as the ex-bartender didn't quite feel like moving yet. "Ezio is taking it somewhere safe."

The Apple. Right. He remembered the feel of it in his mind, but he hadn't been the only one there. The other presence had felt like... like his dad. There'd been an edge of desperation to it and-

Oh.

Fuck.

--

Shaun was moderately sure there had been an explosion, but he couldn't smell any smoke. Just the thick scent of ozone that made his hair stand on end and coated the back of his throat.

He was flat on his back, staring up at the ceiling of the cave before he even registered he'd opened his eyes. There was a ringing in his ears and it took him a moment to listen past it, to the utter lack of sound in the cave that usually amplified every little shift until they sounded like phantom whispers.

Rocks scratched at the exposed skin of his forearms as he dragged himself into a sitting position. The odd stiffness in his muscles was forgotten when he saw William sprawled on the ground, the Apple inches from his outstretched fingers, and beyond him, Rebecca.

The rise and fall of Rebecca's chest was easy to spot, but William was looking a little singed, so it was him that Shaun went for first, seizing his shoulder and shaking it roughly. "Wake up!"

Rebecca stirred behind him, that was good, but William took a while, long enough that Shaun forced himself to check the older man's pulse and make sure he was still breathing.

"What the hell happened?" he demanded as William looked around in a daze.

After blinking a few more times, William's eyes widened and he scrambled for the Apple before Shaun could stop him. A look of fierce concentration swept over his face, before being replaced with frustration as the Apple remained dark, "It isn't- he's not there anymore!"

"What are you talking about?" Rebecca demanded. She looked like she'd been a little scraped up when she fell, but was otherwise fine.

Growling and looking like he was about ten seconds away from chucking the Apple into the nearest chasm, William elaborated, "I could feel Desmond before, but he was distant. I almost had him, but someone else interfered. I was trying to move past them, but then someone else's mind joined the Apple and... kicked me out." The last few words were saturated with grudging respect, "I think it was Leonardo da Vinci."

Shaun felt his eyebrows skyrocket. "Well, that would make sense. In a battle of minds, I can't think of a person in history who would be able to best da Vinci."

"But what now?" William exploded, "We need Desmond back, time is running out!"

Silence fell, aside from the crackle of static that was Juno trying to project herself nearby. They all ignored her.

--

"Assolutamente no!"

Ezio looked up from where he was picking at the thick bandages that swathed his burned hand at the loud exclamation from Leonardo's house. He was returning from where he had hidden the Apple and was more than a little surprised to hear Leonardo's voice raised in anything other than excited exclamations.

"Ah, Ezio!" Leonardo cried in relief when the assassin entered, "Perhaps you can talk some sense into your discendente."

Ah yes, that was Desmond, propped up against the wall and watching Leonardo warily. Smart of him. When Leonardo was upset about something, he could rail about it indefinitely.

"You should know I'm hardly an advocate for any sort of sense, amico."

The look Leonardo gave him told him that his attempt at levity was not appreciated at the moment. "He says he wants to go back!"

Ezio froze, something in his very essence rebelling against that, "Assolutamente no."

"Yeah, that's what he said," Desmond grumbled, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck. "But I have to."

"You certainly do not," Leonardo insisted. "The condition you were in-! And you wish to return?"

Desmond looked at Ezio like he was expecting some sort of help from him. When Ezio refused to give it, his descendant merely sighed, "They need my help."

"And you need to survive!"

It didn't look like that argument convinced Desmond, so Ezio stepped forward. "Fratello, your life is important."

"Everyone's life is important," Desmond countered. "There's almost no time left. No time for a backup plan, just time to finish what I started. If it's me for billions, what's it matter?"

Leonardo looked pained, "You speak as though you have already decided to die."

"I'm amazed I made it to twenty-five." Desmond said dryly. "Believe me, I'd rather stay. But that wouldn't help anything. Not really. And hey, it's not like I'm walking to my death here, not for sure. A few more days in the Animus-"

"The machine which torments you??"

"-a few more days and I'll know." Desmond ran his hand along the outline of the bracer under his sleeve. "I go back and we don't know what'll happen to everyone. But if I stay, they'll definitely die."

Nothing is true.

A sound argument, but one Ezio wished to fight against all the same. The idea of sending Desmond back to that time was abhorrent and yet... was there really a choice?

Everything is permitted.

"You need not sacrifice yourself," Ezio tried, but Desmond didn't seem to be listening to either of them anymore. In fact, the young man seemed to be deliberately blocking them out, like he was trying to convince himself that he needed to go back.

"I don't think it's a sacrifice if there's a fight," he said quietly, like he didn't really care either way. That he'd accepted it long ago and was only just realizing. "And even if it is, that's fine, as long as it's for a reason."

Despite himself, Ezio looked at his flesh and blood and felt pride.

He also felt a very strong urge to strip Desmond of his weapon and find a place to lock him away until he could properly recover from the pallor that clung to his skin and the way his flesh held tight to his bones.

It was a struggle to decide which feeling to side with.

---

Writing that last scene made me strongly want fic where Ezio and Leonardo are Desmond's dads okay shutting up

Against Time | 10/11

[(Anonymous)]

New kitty cat is settling in nicely and I was finally able to sit down and write. Technically, it's still within the time frame I gave (at least, in my time-zone), so I don't feel too bad. Thanks for being so understanding!

--

Ezio didn't want to take Desmond to where he'd hidden the Apple, but knew it was likely for the best. Leonardo probably wouldn't speak to him for a week, and he was fairly sure he deserved that, but he was also sure that he needed- Desmond needed- to do this.

Speaking of Desmond, he walked next to Ezio, eyes darting about in rampant curiosity under his hood. They could have taken the rooftops, but Desmond was so battered and Ezio strongly suspected the young man was in large amounts of pain as well. The thought that Desmond wouldn't be able to handle a rooftop run did little to help Ezio's feeling of foreboding, but he kept putting one foot in front of the other.

It felt like he was aiding the death of a family member, when he'd already lost so many. He couldn't believe that he was allowing it to happen, but couldn't bring himself to stop either, not with Desmond's trust in him, not knowing what was at stake.

As they approached the Thieves' Guild and Desmond's entire demeanor changed from enjoying Venice at night to reluctance, Ezio almost called it off. But them Desmond straightened, breathed, and moved forward.

And Ezio had no choice but to follow.

--

William wanted to try again.

While Shaun knew they needed Desmond back, all wanted him back on some level, he wasn't so sure he wanted to trust the sleep-deprived, half-panicked father with a borderline-magical artifact so soon after the man had received a head injury.

Still, he wasn't the one in charge of the Assassins, Shaun was just the historian.

So they started setting up. Rebecca was more prepared this time, wanted to fire up the Animus and use it to monitor and record what happened in data form, so they could compare it to the data they already had, if they failed again.

As for Shaun, he wanted to see what happened with the temple. Stopping Juno from projecting temporarily was easy, but the entire temple had responded when the Apple fired up. It made sense, First Civilization technology reacting with First Civilization technology, but he wanted to know more about why. Was it acting as a catalyst? If so, could they harness it themselves?

He was pacing the temple, trying to figure out how he should monitor it, when a golden glow lit up the middle of the cavern. The flashback to when Desmond had disappeared was unwelcome and unhelpful and made his heart launch into over drive before he even took his first step.

"You weren't supposed to start yet!" he shouted as he reached Rebecca, who was watching with wide eyes as William was engulfed in light.

"We didn't!" she shouted back, "It activated on its own!"

Oh, bloody hell.

--

Ezio wasn't sure Antonio had believed his story about the Apple and Desmond until the thief actually got a good look at Desmond and saw the similarities.

"He looks as though he could be your brother," Antonio said under his breath as Desmond took the Apple in hand.

He didn't answer, couldn't. What could he say? That he wished he could welcome Desmond as a brother? That he desired more than anything to stop this before Desmond could meet the same fate his own brothers had?

Antonio seemed to know. He left them without further comment.

Desmond sighed, tossing the Apple lightly. "This thing... I've seen it through centuries and it hasn't changed. You wouldn't think something this small could last that long."

"Desmond," Ezio hesitated, then pushed on, "you do not have to return. There is a place for you here."

Fingers tightening on the golden metal showed the effect those words had on his descendant. "I do have to. If they tried to get me back, it means they know I'm missing. That means their time moves with ours. I could stay here, live out my life, but in a week, they'd be dead. I couldn't live with that."

Ezio forced himself to exhale. Desmond had argued that going back didn't mean certain death for him, and perhaps that was true, but there was something about the way he moved, like he knew he was living his last hours. It wasn't defeat, it was acceptance, and that was terrifying.

"Tell Leo thanks for me, okay?" Desmond held the Apple between his hands and Ezio's heart lurched as he realized that Desmond was truly about to leave.

"Fratello."

At Ezio's voice, Desmond paused, and Ezio found himself struggling with what to say. This was the last chance he would have to say anything and all he could think about was how he wished to see the light of hope in his descendant's eyes. How he wanted Desmond to look a week, a month, a year past himself and see a future. A good future.

Or, at the very least, the possibility of one.

"You will always have a place here."

There was a pause, as though Desmond didn't know how to accept those words, but then something about him softened and he smiled.

"Thank you."

Desmond's grip shifted, the Apple began to glow. The room flooded with light quickly, but Ezio did not close his eyes until Desmond had been completely enveloped.

The light faded, but he heard the thud before he was able to blink away spots and see that the Apple had fallen and that he was now alone in the room.

--

Days passed. Leonardo broke his silence only to protest the fact that Ezio continued to sleep with the Apple at his bedside and, as such, continued to suffer nightmares.

Ezio refused to relocate the Apple, though. Desmond suffered and there was nothing he could do to stop it, but at the very least he could see it through to the end, to the final moment that Desmond had been so insistent was coming.

And when that moment came, when Ezio awoke screaming to Leonardo's frantic attempts to snap him out of his slumber, he had one completely selfish moment of wishing he'd left the Apple with Antonio.

Because he had to turn to look at Leonardo and, even though he could see in his eyes that his friend knew what had happened, he still had to say it aloud, to confirm it for both Leonardo and himself.

"He's gone."

--

THIS IS NOT THE END OF THE STORY, THERE IS ONE MORE PART.

The last part may take a little longer to put up because I'm planning on it being longer than the others, but have patience, it shall be up soon!!

Against Time | 11/11 [FINALE]

[(Anonymous)]

Well, this has been a wild ride. I would like to thank OP for the awesome prompt and the opportunity I was given to explore it. I would also like to thank everyone who kept checking this thread, even though they would have been totally justified in thinking I was the worst and would never update. I hope this final part is all you could have hoped for. Much love.

---

For a long time, there wasn't much of anything. It was like he was drifting, on that ledge of semi-consciousness right before sleep, where everything was weightless and dreams were just as believable as reality.

Occasionally, he'd almost think he heard something, but then he'd be drawn back to near-sleep.

Time was hardly a solid concept. Years could have passed, or minutes, but Desmond didn't care to keep track of them.

He became aware in stages. First, he noticed that the foggy silence had been replaced. It was still quiet, but there was a sound like wind passing through buildings and grass, of the world shifting as people went about their lives.

Second was that he was lying on something. It was warm, like sun-heated concrete, but not as rough under his fingers.

It felt like he was solidifying, condensed from smoky confusion into something real and living. He was concentrating so completely on the feeling that he nearly jumped ten feet in the air when a small hand landed on his arm.

His eyes flew open and beheld a familiar face leaning over him. A young boy, dark hair hanging around his ears, was crouched next to him. Desmond could only stare as that face broke into a huge grin.

"You are here!"

"Um," he looked around. It looked like he was lying in one of the streets of Firenze, but that canal over there looked like it belonged in Venice. And was that a mountain in the distance? Deciding to focus on the main question at hand, he turned back to the boy, "Petruccio?"

Nodding rapidly, Petruccio took Desmond's hand in both of his and tugged impatiently, forcing Desmond onto his feet, "Come, come, the others are waiting!"

Everything had a surreal quality to it as Petruccio dragged him through the streets by the hand, but for some reason, Desmond couldn't bring himself to believe he was dreaming. Everything that was happening was borderline absurd, but it felt more real than anything else ever had. He wasn't tired, he didn't hurt, he felt like he could focus without the help of adrenaline for the first time in years.

The city was bare of people, but not in a creepy way. It was more like... the feeling of being in the bar after hours, the odd sense of freedom of being alone in a place that usually held so many people and the knowledge that the solitude was only temporary.

He should have been questioning it, all of it, especially the dead boy who was leading him around by the hand. But then, wasn't he dead too now?

Only, it turned out they weren't so alone when they rounded a corner and saw two figures walking ahead of them.

"Federico!" Petruccio called, waving with his free hand, even though they weren't facing him, "Claudia!"

Desmond almost tripped over his own feet.

But sure enough, when the two figures turned, they were familiar to him. What was startling was that their faces lit up in recognition. "Desmond!" Claudia called, surprised and pleased.

Federico gave a delighted laugh when they met in the middle of the street, reaching out to clasp Desmond's free arm, "You've arrived at last!"

"Uh," Desmond had no idea how to react. He didn't know what was happening at all. "What's going on?"

Claudia's smile was somehow both sweet and mocking. "It is a long story. Petruccio, you should take Desmond to Father. We will find the others."

"Si, I will."

Before Desmond could ask anything else, Federico and Claudia had both taken to the rooftops, moving as though it were as easy for them as walking. "What others?" he asked in the ensuing silence.

"You will see!" Petruccio promised, childish glee evident in his face at the prospect of knowing a secret. He resumed tugging Desmond through street after street, before pausing at a crossroads and frowning.

Down the road on the left, Desmond actually spotted a few familiar buildings. They had surrounded the Villa Auditore in Firenze. But Petruccio was intently considering the road on the right.

"He will want to know you are here," the boy seemed to decide. "It will not take long."

Desmond didn't even bother to question. If he started, he'd just drive himself insane.

So he followed Petruccio down the road up a flight of stairs, and found himself pulled into an alcove where Petruccio knocked on a very familiar door. He'd barely processed just where he knew the door from when it swung open.

"Buongiorno, Petruccio! How can I-" Leonardo cut himself off when he saw Desmond. For a moment, they simply stared at one another. The inventor looked younger than when Desmond had seen him last, but his eyes were much older.

That was all he was able to distinguish before Leonardo launched himself at him in a hug.

"You came," the painter said, relief evident in his voice, "you really came!"

Desmond returned the hug as best as he could when Petruccio still hadn't let go of his hand, "But where are we?"

Laughing, Leonardo pulled away. "Ah, well, that's a little more complicated, I'm afraid."

"We are going to see Father," Petruccio said.

Nodding like this made perfect sense, Leonardo said, "I will join you soon, I must put away this project."

"We will meet you at the villa."

"So will your dad explain what is going on?" Desmond asked as he was towed back onto their previous path. He was beginning to feel like a yo-yo.

"Mother will help."

And then the Villa Auditore came into view.

Desmond had avoided it in the Animus. The wave of secondhand emotion he got from Ezio would overwhelm him whenever he came into view of his old home. But now it stood tall and pristine, as it had been when Ezio's family still lived, like a symbol of all things good.

Petruccio had no reason to stand and stare at it, though, so he tugged Desmond out of his awed state and drew him into the courtyard where, sure enough, Maria Auditore was waiting, "Mother!"

Maria smiled and opened her arms for her son to run into, which finally made him let go of Desmond's hand.

Then she looked up at Desmond and reached out to him.

It was so strange, seeing all the people from the Animus, from memories he didn't have, acknowledge him. But Maria was just so... loving that Desmond hesitated a moment before stepping toward her. He wasn't sure what made him bow his head as he approached, but Maria laid a gentle hand on his cheek and pressed a kiss to his brow.

"Welcome home, Desmond."

When he looked back up, the kindness in Maria's face made him feel like a lost child, "Where are we?"

"That is an excellent question." Giovanni Auditore stepped out into the courtyard, "It is good to see you Desmond."

"Everyone keeps saying that," he heard himself say distantly, "but no one explains why."

Giovanni let out a breath of laughter, "Allow me to answer your questions then, if you will?" He motioned at the door and, after a moment, Desmond walked inside.

He was led into a room he'd never seen before. Though, to be fair, he'd only seen about three rooms in the entire house. It wasn't a very large space and most of it was taken up by a large, circular table with a mirrored surface.

"I cannot tell you for certain where we are, for I do not know myself," Giovanni said, running a hand along the edge of the table as he walked around it. "A sort of afterlife, we suppose. This is a sanctuary, for our family and those we consider family."

Well, that explained Leonardo. And the whole, you know, dead thing. "An afterlife?"

"Well, of a sort-"

The door burst open and that was the only warning Desmond got before something slammed into him hard enough that he was vaguely surprised he didn't feel pain. But then the thing was hugging him and, oh it had a ponytail. "Good to see you, Ezio."

Ezio grinned when he pulled back far enough for Desmond to see his face, "You worried us, fratello. You were meant to be here months ago."

Desmond frowned, "What do you mean?"

Federico walked into the room behind Ezio and went to stand by his father. "We were able to watch our bloodline through the generations with this," he tapped his fingers erratically over the smooth surface of the table.

Staring at the reflective substance that the table was made of, Desmond firmly reminded himself that he shouldn't be freaking out that they'd been keeping an eye on him, that he'd done pretty much the same thing, and at least he wasn't Haytham.

"Your death was nearly a half year ago," Giovanni said gently.

"Then why did I take so long to get here?" The though of six missing months was disturbing. Then again, he hadn't thought he'd have any months at all, so he probably shouldn't be looking a gift horse in the mouth.

"We don't know either," Leonardo said, hurrying into the room, arms piled with scrolls. "I've been trying to figure it out. It is as though you took longer to settle."

"You are the last of the bloodline," said Maria. "And the mirror has not worked since your death."

"So, now what?" he asked, at something of a loss. "If this is the afterlife, why continue looking at the living? We can't influence it."

A shuffle of cloth came from the direction of the door, "That remains to be seen."

That voice carried chills across Desmond's body. It was so familiar and took him back through countless memories.

Altair stepped into the room Claudia at his side. "Safety and peace, brother."

Desmond's mouth felt dry, but he managed to say, "Safety and peace."

Though he was the only one with a hood on, it was possible to see Altair's lips quirk into some semblance of a smile. He reached into a pouch on his robe and pulled out-

"The Apple?"

But Altair shook his head and, when Desmond looked closer, he could see that the silver orb was see-through. Altair held it as though it had substance, but it looked like an after image.

Ezio shifted next to Desmond and also retrieved an image of the Apple. "We have carried these with us, since arriving in this place. We believe that, as we leave parts of ourselves with the Apple, it leaves parts of itself with us."

Hesitantly, Desmond reached into his pocket. He flinched when his fingers touched cool metal, but forced them to take hold of the sphere nevertheless.

"They all hold power individually," Altair explained, "but not enough to achieve anything. Together, however..."

"You think we can do something?" Desmond asked, pressing the pads of his fingers tightly against the surface of the pseudo-Apple.

"It is a choice you must make," Maria said gently, her hands resting on Petruccio's shoulders. "You have all made many sacrifices."

Federico nodded, "We could stay here. Let the living fight their own battles."

Claudia scoffed, stepping forward, "We are Auditores. We are fighters. We should fight."

It was only after a few moments of silence that Desmond realized they were all looking at him.

He'd been running from the Assassin's his whole life. But now, well. He could fight or he could walk away.

It wasn't even really a choice in the end. After all, it looked like he was an Auditore, albeit a few generations late.

He lifted his hand and Ezio and Altair did the same. The ghosts of the Apple flew together, glowed brightly, and solidified into one. The sphere hovered over the mirrored table, then slowly lowered, sinking into the surface like it was liquid.

The image reflected in the table swirled and distorted, changing from the room to a twist of fog and then, finally, to rolling waves.

--

Shaun hated boats.

Shaun hated boats and Abstergo and Miles...es. One had gotten himself killed right when he got useful and another had run off without so much as a goodbye.

And Shaun missed both of them, the complete bastards.

It didn't help that he kept getting seasick. At least he could blame the redness of his eyes on that.

His mobile buzzed in his pocket and he debated throwing it into the ocean so he wouldn't have to deal with whatever new problem had come up. Unfortunately, his conscience won out and he fished it out of his pocket.

Instead of the name of the contact who had messaged him, there was simply a string of numbers and characters that made no sense. No one should have had his number but a few select people, the phone was encrypted.

He almost ignored the message, probably should have. But curiosity got the better of him and it wasn't like the mobile wasn't a burner anyway.

The message stared up at him.

"In another moment, down went Alice after it, never once considering how in the world she was to get out again."

Is it wrong to compare death to a rabbit hole?

Fin