But was it worth it? Should he tell Desmond how futile it had all been, how close they had gotten, only to be foiled? But if Shaun revealed this to Desmond, then Desmond, with his bloody idiotic and ginormous heart, might stupidly try and do something to get back into shape. They'd already fucked him up enough. They had all done enough, to him.
"Y-yeah..." Shaun stumbled over his words, and jerked away from Desmond's grasp, feeling like he was the slime of the earth. "Yeah."
"Shaun?" Desmond said, worriedly.
"Will they let you leave?" Shaun asked, abruptly.
Desmond blinked, and looked to the mirror-wall. His gaze was rather grim. "They haven't, so far," he said dryly.
Shaun grabbed the side of Desmond's face, and drew him close. Desmond startled, wanting to draw back, but the look of Shaun's face had him stay still. "Shaun?" He ventured, hesitantly.
"Do you want to?" Shaun whispered, harshly. His glasses had fogged up. "Leave?"
"Is it safe?" Desmond asked, and Shaun didn't have the heart to ask for clarification -- whether Desmond believed it was safe for him, or for others.
"They will let you rot away here, in the name of your safety," Shaun said, quietly and quickly. In his chest, he felt a dense thickness descending, like terror. But this had been festering for months, with the realization that both sides cared little for the individual...and that he, himself, had begun to care for the individual far more than the whole. "They will only take you out to use you."
Desmond's eyes flickered between Shaun's eyes, back and forth, like indecision. "Shaun?" he tried again, his own voice a whisper. "What about you?"
Good old Desmond, Shaun thought, and instead of grief or the usual disdain, his heart flooded with fondness. Stop thinking about others, and start being selfish, will you?
"Desmond, are you in shape?" Shaun drew back, voice loud.
"Uh," Desmond seemed back to his usual, stupid self. Fabulous. "Not like I used to," he said. "But at least I'm not lying around all day."
"Good," Shaun said. "Let's run."
"Wha--" Desmond startled, and Shaun grabbed his hand like a vice, and fled out the door with him.
The effect was instantaneous. Voices exploded behind them in a flurry of panic, people from the room adjacent to Desmond's -- those who had been observing behind the mirror-wall -- flooding out like ants.
"Hastings!" the driver-cum-doctor was yelling behind him. "Hastings, what in the name of--"
"This way," Shaun yelled, taking a turn down that nauseatingly pristine hall way. The stupid woman who he'd earlier wanted to punch blocked their way, screaming something in a high pitched voice. Shaun barreled her into a wall, and she dropped like a stone. Satisfaction rippled through him. He should punch people more often.
"Shaun," Desmond sputtered. They were still holding hands, running out into the basement, up the stairs. "Where are we going!"
"Out!" Shaun exclaimed. "Lucy and Rebecca are waiting for us outside!"
"What!"
Shaun did not pause in his running, ignoring the loud yells coming from behind them. "I talked to them when I discovered you were alive," he explained steadily. "We all decided to rescue you. Through code, of course, the Assassins always monitor our conversations."
They stumbled out of the clinic, Desmond out of breath. He was still not wearing any shoes. "How--?" he heaved, sweating.
"You're really out of shape," Shaun remarked with a grin born of a reckless glee, and just in time a van swerved into their vision, back door already open, with Rebecca holding out a hand. They scrambled on -- Rebecca heaved Desmond in, with Shaun pushing in from behind -- and off they went, like a bullet.
"Rebecca!" Desmond gaped, still out of breath. The engineer burst into tears and tackled Desmond, holding him tight. "Gack!"
"We were all so worried!" she sobbed. "Oh gosh, Des, I am so sorry!"
"Is Desmond all right?" Lucy's voice asked urgently from the driver's seat.
"'Becca's currently choking him," Shaun grinned. He'd taken out his laptop, and was busy typing away at it. Erasing their tracks. Causing a bit of electronic mayhem back at the Assassin's Headquarters, to mess them up a little. Seems they still had holes, hah.
Fill [11/14]
"Y-yeah..." Shaun stumbled over his words, and jerked away from Desmond's grasp, feeling like he was the slime of the earth. "Yeah."
"Shaun?" Desmond said, worriedly.
"Will they let you leave?" Shaun asked, abruptly.
Desmond blinked, and looked to the mirror-wall. His gaze was rather grim. "They haven't, so far," he said dryly.
Shaun grabbed the side of Desmond's face, and drew him close. Desmond startled, wanting to draw back, but the look of Shaun's face had him stay still. "Shaun?" He ventured, hesitantly.
"Do you want to?" Shaun whispered, harshly. His glasses had fogged up. "Leave?"
"Is it safe?" Desmond asked, and Shaun didn't have the heart to ask for clarification -- whether Desmond believed it was safe for him, or for others.
"They will let you rot away here, in the name of your safety," Shaun said, quietly and quickly. In his chest, he felt a dense thickness descending, like terror. But this had been festering for months, with the realization that both sides cared little for the individual...and that he, himself, had begun to care for the individual far more than the whole. "They will only take you out to use you."
Desmond's eyes flickered between Shaun's eyes, back and forth, like indecision. "Shaun?" he tried again, his own voice a whisper. "What about you?"
Good old Desmond, Shaun thought, and instead of grief or the usual disdain, his heart flooded with fondness. Stop thinking about others, and start being selfish, will you?
"Desmond, are you in shape?" Shaun drew back, voice loud.
"Uh," Desmond seemed back to his usual, stupid self. Fabulous. "Not like I used to," he said. "But at least I'm not lying around all day."
"Good," Shaun said. "Let's run."
"Wha--" Desmond startled, and Shaun grabbed his hand like a vice, and fled out the door with him.
The effect was instantaneous. Voices exploded behind them in a flurry of panic, people from the room adjacent to Desmond's -- those who had been observing behind the mirror-wall -- flooding out like ants.
"Hastings!" the driver-cum-doctor was yelling behind him. "Hastings, what in the name of--"
"This way," Shaun yelled, taking a turn down that nauseatingly pristine hall way. The stupid woman who he'd earlier wanted to punch blocked their way, screaming something in a high pitched voice. Shaun barreled her into a wall, and she dropped like a stone. Satisfaction rippled through him. He should punch people more often.
"Shaun," Desmond sputtered. They were still holding hands, running out into the basement, up the stairs. "Where are we going!"
"Out!" Shaun exclaimed. "Lucy and Rebecca are waiting for us outside!"
"What!"
Shaun did not pause in his running, ignoring the loud yells coming from behind them. "I talked to them when I discovered you were alive," he explained steadily. "We all decided to rescue you. Through code, of course, the Assassins always monitor our conversations."
They stumbled out of the clinic, Desmond out of breath. He was still not wearing any shoes. "How--?" he heaved, sweating.
"You're really out of shape," Shaun remarked with a grin born of a reckless glee, and just in time a van swerved into their vision, back door already open, with Rebecca holding out a hand. They scrambled on -- Rebecca heaved Desmond in, with Shaun pushing in from behind -- and off they went, like a bullet.
"Rebecca!" Desmond gaped, still out of breath. The engineer burst into tears and tackled Desmond, holding him tight. "Gack!"
"We were all so worried!" she sobbed. "Oh gosh, Des, I am so sorry!"
"Is Desmond all right?" Lucy's voice asked urgently from the driver's seat.
"'Becca's currently choking him," Shaun grinned. He'd taken out his laptop, and was busy typing away at it. Erasing their tracks. Causing a bit of electronic mayhem back at the Assassin's Headquarters, to mess them up a little. Seems they still had holes, hah.