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
#2 (Livejournal) Archive
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Part 1
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
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Discussion

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"Are you sure you don't want to eat something before we start?" Stillman asked Michael, her face full of concern.

"So you can clean it off the floor when we're done? You really do like to give yourself extra work."

"Okay, Michael." She shook her head, punching buttons on the animus console. "Lie down when you're ready. I've turned off the auto-desynch, but we'll still be monitoring your vitals. Don't worry - I'll pull you out if something goes wrong."

He lay down on the animus. Soft clicks as the machine configured itself to his body. Immediately, Michael began to sweat, his heart thumping in sudden panic. This was normal, now. It had started happening after the first time he'd attempted the torture memory.

Just like a lab rat.

"Breathing," Stillman reminded, and he schooled himself from rapid, shallow breaths to slow, deep ones.

Stillman handed him a face mask, attached via a tube to the animus. "Put this on."

"You're joking, right?"

"There's nothing flowing through it right now. I've spoken to Warren, and we agreed that you'll remain conscious. But if your breathing gets out of control, I'm going to need a way to keep you calm."

"I'm not wearing it, Stillman," Michael said.

She frowned. He knew it bothered her that he refused to use her first name, but it was simply one small way he had found to resist. Any hint of warmth he showed her brought him closer to cooperation with Abstergo. It would be easier if she'd just been an asshole like Vidic, but Stillman kept reaching out to him, determinedly compassionate, no matter how many times he rebuffed her.

"I know you have no reason to trust me," she said.

"You're right. I don't trust you."

"Michael, Ezio repressed this memory completely. It was extremely traumatic -"

"No shit, was it really? I'm not wearing it."

Stillman threw up her hands, helpless. "Fine. I'll just have to pull you out if you hyperventilate, and we'll start this whole thing again. Your choice."

"In that case, can I choose not to do this at all? I don't remember seeing a 'let me out of this shit-hole' option on the consent form. Maybe because I never signed one."

Vidic had wandered to the other side of the room, impatient but unwilling to interfere. Michael had made sure that his "input" only ever made things slower, and eventually Vidic had learned to let his assistant operate the animus. A small victory, but Michael exploited every division between the scientists that he could find.

"You know, I can't wait until this place gets audited. Although I have a suspicion it's linked to some part of the government anyway. That true, Stillman?"

"Michael, please -"

"Why are you doing this?" Michael asked her, his voice low and intense. "You believe in what you're doing? Or are you just following orders?"

"There are things you don't understand," she said, her voice suddenly cold. "But right now, if you want to stay conscious, I need you to cooperate."

The screen slid down over his face, and Michael fought the second wave of his physiological reactions to the animus. His palms and fingertips were wet on the contact points, and his shirt soon stuck to his back. The heart monitor beeped in warning, then subsided.

"I understand one thing pretty well," Michael said as his vision dimmed and he smelled the familiar blood and filth of the torture chamber. The walls of the Castel Sant'Angelo came slowly into focus. "You're a fucking coward."

“Where is your base, Auditore?”

The tip of Cesare’s dagger worked its way under the fingernail of Ezio’s left index finger. With a quick twist of the blade, he flicked the nail off. Ezio sank his teeth into his own lower lip and bit down.

Michael tasted blood. Having done this so many times before, he wondered whether he might be able to dissociate from the pain, but that wasn’t the right word for what he was doing.

The animus tutorials had stressed the importance of immersion, of forgetting yourself, letting the life of your ancestor subsume you. From the start, Michael had done so effortlessly. It helped that Ezio had such a strong personality. In fact, if he ever got out of the lab, Michael suspected he would miss his ancestor dearly. He had grown to deeply respect and admire the Assassin. It was an honour to live his memories - and when Ezio wasn’t having a day as shitty as this one, it was easy to want to be him. To rally to his cause. He wondered if Abstergo had thought of that - they could hardly have found a better way to recruit him to side of the Assassins than to force him to relive the memories of Ezio Auditore.

Now Michael was finding that, contrary to the animus tutorial briefings, he could be himself and Ezio at the same time without desynchronising. He was in the past and the present simultaneously - lucid in both.

”Where is your base?” The dagger tip eased under another fingernail.

Ezio shuddered and looked over Cesare’s shoulder, focusing on the brick wall behind the Templar. He had been playing a game, to distract himself - imagining that the marks on the wall formed shapes, like letters, words in a strange language. He slid into his eagle’s sight and it seemed as though the letters glowed white-hot. He stared at them until they burned into his soul.

When the guards brought Piero, Michael watched in agony from Ezio’s eyes and his own. At the point where Ezio’s heart began to pound frantically, he listened with dread for the animus voice but heard only poor Piero’s sobs. He was through.

***

“You made it, Michael,” Lucy said, as the animus screen slid away.

Michael lay still. He was crying openly, and he didn’t care.

“After Ezio was returned to his cell, I managed to create a save point.” Lucy pushed his hair back from his eyes to examine them. “You’ll never have to go through that again.”

He had no memory of being moved to his room, but some time later found himself huddled on his bed with a sense of overwhelming isolation and despair. Now that the immediate task of conquering the memory had been achieved, he had no plan, no strategy. He drifted into sleep feeling utterly alone.

“Where is your Brotherhood now, stronzo? No-one is coming for you.”

Ezio leaned against the stone wall of his cell to ease his aching back.

"We aren't supposed to let him do that," said the taller of his guards.

"Go in there yourself and beat him, then," said the other. “Why do you think we're doing double shifts? He's already killed four other guards."

The Assassin moved to the iron bars and gripped them so he would not fall down. It gave him a distinct sense of satisfaction to see both men back away.

"Listen to me," Ezio said. "Piero is no more than a boy; he knows nothing. Take me back to Cesare."

Both guards laughed. "Don't worry, Auditore. We will."

***

When Michael woke it was night, and Warren Vidic was standing in his doorway.

“I want to speak to Lucy,” he said, sitting up. This couldn’t be good.

“Miss Stillman isn’t working tonight,” Vidic told him. “Move him out, please.” Vidic stood aside as four security guards entered Michael’s room to roll him to his front.

“Fuck - get off - assholes.” Michael struggled as his hands were pulled behind his back and secured quickly with plastic cuffs.

“You had every chance to cooperate,” Vidic said. “You knew the animus console was off limits. Attempting to break into our system was really the last straw. You’re a liability, Mr White, and I believe you’d be less so in a coma.”

“No - no. Lucy! Don’t let them do this. Lucy!”

There was a sharp pain in the side of his neck, and he blacked out.

The day - or evening, or morning; it was all the same to Ezio - wore on. Eventually he found that he was unable to remain standing, and collapsed in a corner. The taller guard picked up a loose stone and made to throw it at him, but the shorter, more intelligent one caught his arm. "Idiot! Do you mean to give him a weapon, and make his tally six?"

The tall guard shrugged, and had the grace to look ashamed. "Well, we should do something. He isn't allowed to sleep."

"He's not sleeping. Hey - Auditore!"

Ezio grunted.

"We'll let you rest there, all right? But you have to get up if anyone comes."

With that agreement made, Ezio was permitted to remain lying on the floor. He dozed fitfully, thinking of Piero, mad with guilt. Ezio told himself that he had known other fighters with an eye missing, that his apprentice would recover. Find his own way. He was an Assassin, after all.

He stirred at the sound of a heavy thunk. When he looked up, his guards were lying on the floor.

He pushed himself into a wary crouch. Nothing good had happened to him since he entered the Castel Sant'Angelo, and he could scarcely believe that his luck had changed for the better. Then he saw the familiar shape of the throwing knife embedded in the throat of the taller man. He looked at the other - a crossbow bolt was buried precisely between his eyes. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, hope burned low in his belly.

A small hooded shadow slipped in front of his cell door, and Emiliana Santi began to pick the lock. Two larger shapes guarded her back.

"That was your crossbow bolt," Ezio rasped. She was an expert marksman; one of his best. He stood, smiling.

"You know my work, Maestro," she said, grinning back. As though trying to raise the alarm, the barred cell door screeched as she pulled it open, just enough for him to leave the cell.

"We cleared the way as best we could, but we may have to fight our way to Piero," Emiliana said. "Can you walk?"

"Yes." Thank God he had been able to rest a little. "How do you know where he is?"

"We heard him screaming," she said shortly.

"Give me a blade," said Ezio, but Emiliana was already pressing the hilt of a short dagger against his palm. His shoulders had stiffened, and he prayed that his arms would work enough for him to fight.

"This way." Emiliana signalled to her brothers. Bastiano scouted ahead, and Vittorio paced behind, as the Assassins moved out.

It was too late to save Piero.

Bastiano found his cell quickly enough, and seeing his ruined face and body, turned back to Ezio and the others looking pale and sick. Piero was dying, and the sooner his suffering ended, the better.

"I'm sorry," Ezio said, crouching beside his apprentice. He smoothed back his hair, looked into dazed brown eyes for the last time. Then he pushed the blade into his throat, quick and clean.

"Requiescat in pace. It was an honour to fight beside you, brother." He gently closed Piero’s eyes, then stood up. "It is done." He put a hand to his head and stumbled. Vittorio, tall and broad-shouldered, caught him easily.

"No, I can walk," Ezio said. Then he fainted.

***

He woke beneath the stars to clean air that smelled of rain, and the sound of his apprentices conversing in subdued whispers. The night was chilly, but of course, they could not risk a campfire. He stirred, rubbing his aching head, and his brothers fell silent.

Bastiano was at his side in an instant. "Here's water," he murmured, and held Ezio's head so he could drink. Emiliana and Vittorio watched from the shadows. Ezio seemed to have acquired several extra cloaks, layered over him like blankets, while his apprentices were missing theirs. He realised that he could not see Piero.

"Piero," he said, raising himself up on one elbow. Pain lanced through his body.

"I know, Maestro." Bastiano pushed his chest gently down. "Lie back. Don't try to talk."

Ezio submitted to the first instruction, but not the second. "What do you mean, you know? What happened to Piero?" he persisted. "Did you find him?"

His apprentices stared at him, then looked at each other.

"What is the matter?" he demanded. "Tell me what happened to your brother."

"Piero is dead, Maestro," Emiliana said softly.

Ezio laid a hand over his eyes. "How?"

"Cesare's men captured him."

"I hope he did not get the same as I did." He shuddered. "Was it quick?"

"Si," said all three of his apprentices at once.

"Thank God." Ezio slumped. "I do not suppose we could recover his body?"

"Not without compromising the Brotherhood," Emiliana said. "I'm sorry." She touched his arm. "Rest, Maestro. In the morning we will need to move quickly."

He heard his apprentices quickly discuss sentry duty. Vittorio and Bastiano bedded down on either side of Ezio, close enough that he could feel their body heat, while

Emiliana took the first watch.

"Thank you, Emiliana," he said to her a while later.

"What for, Maestro?" The whites of her eyes flashed in the darkness.

"I was beginning to think I would die, there."

"Did you really think we would not come for you?" she said. "Have faith. We are with you until the end." She turned back to scan the area with sharp attentive eyes. "Now be quiet, so I can listen."

He obeyed.

***

Subject Sixteen drifted in the animus, drugged and spiralling without control. It was getting easier to slide out of himself and into the data. He had infinite time, now, and thought of many things - of gods and ancient wars, and the limits of human knowledge. But mostly, he thought of a Brotherhood that echoed through history - and he knew that like Ezio, he would never be alone again.

This was just. . . so amazing. I loved every single bit of it, but the ending actually made me start crying. You're the best, writer anon :)

Thanks Anon for commenting :D

Piero seemed to grow his eye back in this chapter ;)

Hahah, derp, so he did. Whoops :D Thanks for pointing it out.

This was really... really good. I loved everything about it, but I especially loved Vidic's horrid grammar xD

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Kink Meme - Assassin's Creed pt.2

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