asscreedkinkmeme | Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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assassin's creed

Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

Assassin's Creed Kink Meme pt.2
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List of Kinks
(Livejorunal) Archive
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Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
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A/N: Omfg, this story was headed in a completely different direction and yet somehow I ended up writing these last 5 parts. Stupid plot bunnies! I have sincerely have no idea how I got to this conclusion! Still, I hope these last parts are enjoyable xD;;

--

Shaun wasn't a natural-born assassin, but he'd always had the ability to see how supposedly miscellaneous information fit together. It was like his very own Eagle Vision, except that instead of seeing the world in terms of ally or foe, he drew sense from raw data.

It hadn't been intentional, though he'd certainly been keeping an eye out for any mention of Desmond in all the emails he intercepted, Assassin or Templar. Higher-ups in Abstergo had a tendency to exchange sensitive information using rather abstract euphemisms -- for instance, whenever they were talking about Desmond, they would use the key word Martini. Haha, Shaun thought dryly. So clever.

Given these parameters, Shaun deduced that Abstergo had found intel that the Assassins were keeping him in a safe house somewhere, recovering. A prod in the right direction had Shaun understanding that the Assassins were helping Desmond recover because they had ulterior motives. Naturally, wanted to see if they could use him to get the Apple. Same as the Templars.

Shaun didn't know whether to be disgusted or understanding. What he did know was that he wanted to see Desmond again. To apologize? To sympathize? He hadn't thought that far ahead yet.

It should have been harder to find the safe house, but Shaun was rather talented at finding things. He Bcc'd Lucy and Rebecca in an email to the Assassins' Headquarters, inquiring to see if he could be allowed to visit Desmond. He also enumerated a rather long list of the cracks they had in their security, berating the idiots who didn't know how to encrypt their emails properly. Fortunately for him, Headquarters wasn't annoyed at him for prodding. They thanked him for the warnings, and informed him they were moving Desmond. They then added that he would be escorted to Desmond in two days' time.

Lucy immediately called him, after, angry at the approach he'd taken, telling him Headquarters could have easily taken his intrusion the wrong way. Then, after ranting for a long minute about his stupidity, she burst into tears and told him to say hello and sorry to Desmond for her. She was still on a mission, she said carefully, and could not abandon it halfway through. Shaun let this soak in. Considerably mellower, he assured her he would do that for her.

Just minutes after, Rebecca hacked into his computer and opened a chat window on his desktop, startling the shit out of him before he realized it was her. She excitedly told him she'd heard from Lucy and that she'd gone ahead and done her own digging, unbeknownst to their employers, and that insofar as she could tell, Desmond had been moved to X facility, not far from where Shaun was. She also sent him a compiled .pdf of the files they had on Desmond, revealing sensitive information that implied Desmond was not completely sane all the time, though he did have lucid periods.

Through a subsequent complicated string of text-based emoticons, Shaun deduced Rebecca was still upset about what they'd done to Desmond and wished she could be there to personally apologize. So, Shaun promised to say hello and sorry to Desmond for her, too. Rebecca replied " ^(TToTT)^!!! ty & gl bby~~!! m(__)m " and logged off.

Shaun was nervous as the weekend approached. He didn't know exactly what to expect, how the meeting would go. The files on Desmond were brief, there were no images to accompany the reports. What exactly did they mean by 'lucid periods'? Would he remember who Shaun was? Would Desmond blame them all, if he did? He spoke again to Lucy and Rebecca, and steeled his nerves.

A car came by for him on the designated day. They drove him to a nearby clinic: it was a shabby-looking thing from the outside. Inside it looked just as shabby. There was a trapdoor leading to a nasty-looking basement. There was a door there, which opened to a ridiculously pristine-looking hallway. Haha, Shaun thought again, dryly. Everyone's so fucking clever.

There were a few nurses milling around, but otherwise this underground safehouse/prison was empty. The Assassin driver-cum-doctor walked him to a closed waiting room, and told him to wait in there. Shaun barely restrained himself from hacking into the laptop in the middle of the room, noticing a few discreet cameras on the walls. Habits die hard, he supposed.

"He's lucid, today," a new person popped in, smiling benignly. He barely registered it was a woman. Shaun wanted to punch her. He smiled caustically instead.

"Can I see him now, then?" He bit out around his teeth, forced grin in place.

"Yes," she beamed. "Follow me." Clearly she had no sense of self-preservation.

She led him to yet another door, which had a blank nameplate. Blank because Desmond was not supposed to exist? Blank because he had nothing left in his head? Shaun suppressed an urge to tear the plate off. Stay calm. Stay calm.

"He's inside," she said. "There's a mirror on the wall -- we can see in, from there, in case anything happens."

"Thank you," Shaun said tightly. So Desmond was under watch 24/7? It was like he was back at Abstergo, Shaun thought, bitterly. He'd left one cage to end up at another.

He wasn't expecting what he saw when he opened the door.

It was a decent-sized room, mostly white. One wall had a large mirror taking up most of the surface. There was a low bed in the corner, untouched. All the furniture was nailed to the floor.

And, some feet away, a shaggy head of dark brown hair was facing away from him, hands casually inside pant pockets.

"Desmond?" Shaun ventured, blinking.

"Shaun!" Desmond turned around at the sound, grinning. He'd been having a staring contest with the mirror-wall, it seemed. He was dressed in white slacks and a slim white shirt. He had no shoes, and his beard had been meticulously shaved off. His exposed arms revealed he was still thin and pale, but he was standing, and walking. "They told me you were coming to visit, and I could hardly stop myself from pacing a hole into the floor all day."

"You look good," Shaun said, stupidly.

"I feel much better," Desmond agreed, and scratched the back of his head. His knuckles had band-aids on them. "Do you mind if I hug you?"

Shaun blinked. "What," he heard himself saying, from afar.

"I haven't hugged anyone for a while," Desmond began, and then startled when he found himself being tackled by an armful of Shaun. "Gack!"

"You bloody - mad - bastard," Shaun heaved, his heart exploding through his chest. He hadn't realized it, but he was crying. He'd done a lot of that, lately. "I can't..." he shoved a startled Desmond back, holding him by the shoulders. "Why in hell's name did you do that to yourself?"

"Uh?" Desmond blinked.

"You thrice-damned martyr," Shaun yelled. All he could see in his mind's eye was an unconscious Desmond, wasting away: slowly, slowly, going mad. "You bloody idiot!"

"Sorry?" Desmond grinned, confused.

"Lucy and Rebecca feel terrible," Shaun heard himself saying, angrily. "They feel like murderers. I feel like a murderer!"

"You're not a murderer," Desmond said.

"You don't know that!" Shaun snarked. "You don't know anything! You're as smart as a bloody welcome mat!"

"Hey, now," Desmond frowned, crossing his arms. His god damn skinny arms.

"Look at you," Shaun said, bitterly, grabbing his shoulders.

"I thought you said I looked good," Desmond murmured.

"I thought you were dead," Shaun admitted, quietly. "Where have you been?"

Desmond looked up to the ceiling. "Here, mostly," he said mildly. "Or so they tell me."

Shaun looked up at him, silent, questioning. Or so they told him? Why? Because he was rarely 'lucid'?

"It's hard," Desmond began, avoiding Shaun's eyes. "I don't know where I am, sometimes."

"We did this to you," Shaun said, quietly. "We let this happen."

Desmond met his eyes then, and smiled. It looked genuine, and Shaun wanted to strangle some sense into this thick-headed, bloody retarded individual, who owned the biggest heart he'd ever known.

"It was worth it, wasn't it?" Desmond shrugged. "And, I'm okay. Mostly." He placed his hands on Shaun's elbows, as Shaun's arms were still extended between them, his hands tight on his shoulders. "I still remember how to mix a martini."

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.

"You all," Desmond said, sputtering. "Why?" He looked a little lost. "You betrayed the Assassins...?"

"They weren't going to let you go," Shaun snarled, looking up from his laptop. "They were just going to use you further."

Desmond's eyes dimmed, and his hands shook a bit. But his gaze was steady. "They don't have the Apple? But I found the location. I know I did. I did not dream that up."

There was silence, and Rebecca winced. "You see, Des," she said softly. "We did find it, but we couldn't get to it. Only a descendant..."

"Of Ezio and Altair can, huh," Desmond muttered. He peppered off angrily into another language, and all three of them sat up ramrod straight, alert. Rebecca and Shaun's eyes were glued on Desmond, tense. The man gestured quickly, saying something, catching Shaun's eye. Desmond trailed off, shook his head, and looked at his hands, flexing them. Shaun thought he was hazing in and out of himself.

"...Desmond?" Shaun said, hesitantly.

"It's me," the man said, quietly. He shook himself again, for measure, and grinned weakly. "Still me. Sorry for the scare... it comes and goes."

Lucy was dead silent from her end, and Rebecca looked horrified, tears coursing down her face.

"I am so sorry for what we did to you, Desmond," Shaun said, looking rather lost and angry.

"Don't," Desmond said, and held up a hand to stop their arguments. "I did what I did knowingly. But, back to the Apple -- so the Templars don't have it, either?"

"No," Rebecca had gotten ahold of herself, and wiped away her tears. "They might know where it is, though. The Assassins have posted up people to keep watch over the Temple while they wait to get someone new to fetch it for them. For being masters of the shadows, they are rather obvious in their tactics." She pointed to Shaun's laptop, shrugging.

"Well, then let's go and get it," Desmond said, nodding. "Before they do."

"That's exactly what we don't want!" Shaun barked. "We got you out so they wouldn't use you like that! You're not just a thing, Desmond, you're a person!"

"Then what was all I did for, huh?" Desmond cried, and his eyes fogged a hazy gold. He slammed his hands down on the truck, and exploded in a fury of Arabic. Shaun and Rebecca both visibly jumped, and Desmond looked down, snarling in frustration at himself. Viciously, he hit the side of the truck with his fist, and phased back into English. "...rather we get it than let the Templars have it! We can't let that happen!"

"Desmond, if we go for it, the Assassins will believe we've betrayed them because we want the Apple for ourselves," Lucy spoke loudly over the roar of the van, glancing back for a second before going back to the road.

"Then tell them we still work for them," Desmond said, fiercely. "I don't want any of you suffering for merely wanting me to be free. Tell them I'll go get the damn Apple for them."

Desmond had changed, Shaun thought. At the beginning, he'd been a mild-mannered, good humoured bar tender, slightly in over his head. But now? He'd been forced to mold into something else, something vicious and quaking with purpose beyond any of them.

But.... he hadn't broken. Even through everything, he was still Desmond. Bloody big-hearted, big-headed Desmond Miles.

He could kiss the idiot. Fortunately, he still had some modicum of self-restraint. He'd already exhausted all the reckless in him for the day.

"You are an idiot," Shaun told him, caustically. Desmond's head swerved around to look at him, already an angry retort on his lips -- "but if that's what you want, it's not a bad plan."

Desmond blinked. "it's not?"

"We can make it work," Rebecca nodded, slowly. "It'll save all our asses, really."

"It'll take some convincing for the higher ups to not want to kill us," Shaun muttered, already typing out something. "But they'll understand. Eventually."

"They should have known we wouldn't have abandoned you," Lucy said as she steered expertly around a curb, and her eyes were shining. "You're one of us."

"Lucy..." Desmond looked shocked, and then looked around him. "Rebecca, Shaun...you all..." he blubbering into Italian, and grinned stupidly, unaware of his switch, and seconds later just as easily phased back into English, "...so crazy. I love you, guys."

"Yeah, yeah," Shaun said, and though the vice around his heart was still tight, he was so very glad Desmond was back with them. The big idiot could hardly do a thing without them. "Stop crying, you ninny."

"You're crying too," Rebecca teased, wiping the corner of her eyes.

"Am not," Shaun hid behind his laptop, blushing furiously. What was up with all these water works! he thought as he hastily rubbed his face.

"First things first, though," Desmond said, and they all looked up at him -- Lucy briefly, still intent on the road. "I really need to get back into shape," he said, and melodramatically raised his shirt, poking his soft belly. "What kind of an assassin is this pudgy!"

"Pudgy?" Shaun gagged. "Desmond, you're practically a skele--"

"Shaun is," Rebecca interrupted him, giggling. She reached over and poked Shaun in the side, his rather squishy side, causing him to jerk with a startled hack.

"I am not pudgy!" Shaun was so red, the tips of his ears had turned purple. "And don't poke me without my permission!"

Desmond looked at them both, and grinned from ear to ear. From the front, Lucy was laughing. Rebecca patted Desmond repeatedly on the shoulder as she laughed herself to tears, other hand on her stomach, shaking. Shaun huffed, crossed his arms, and glared at them all.

Everything wasn't all right -- in fact, they had all just dug themselves into a private hell, what with pissing off the Assassins with this crazy stunt. Not to mention Desmond's brain was half-way fried, what with him phasing in and out of foreign languages and bursting into abrupt moments of aggressively. But he was smiling, now, and they had a plan, and, if Shaun had anything to do with it, it would work it all out. He wouldn't let it end any other way.

--

A/N: AHHHH THIS WAS SO SAPPY I'm so sorry annons, this poor story rolled to a queer, disjointled end xD;; I sort of ran out of steam there. BUT! It was a fun ride, and I thank you all for your lovely comments <3 I hope it was enjoyable! Thanks for the wonderful prompt, OP~

Magnificent fill! Hurrah that Anon.

I love the twist you put in there, with Des really being half brain fried by the Animus and just randomly going off in other tongues.

;_____; I luv you anon. Seriously, I never expected this kind of a response to my prompt. I really loved the end of this, even though it's a little disjointed like you said. I think my favorite parts there at the end were Desmond randomly lapsing into other languages, the driveby rescue, and Rebeca prodding Shaun's pudge, lol.

Thank you so much, awesome anon!

This was really interesting! Thanks for sharing, anon ^_^

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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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