#Rebecca got dangerously close to Shaun’s eyes

[sneaky-eel]

I wanted to at least do something for pride before it is over.

[annathescavver]

What Remains of Us Chapter 4

There was a note on the floor. It was plain, just a slip of paper, and someone had pushed it under the door for her to find. Question was, who?

Rebecca crouched and picked up the paper. Unfolding it, she read the words written on it: I got your message. Meet me in maintenance room 4, just before the cafeteria.

Suddenly mindful of where she was, she stood and backed away from the door. This was Patriot. As long as it could be believed, she had finally made contact with Patriot. Relief mixed with worry in her stomach and she began to pace.

She’d done as Desdemona said. As soon as she’d arrived in the Institute, she had plugged in the Railroad’s communication device and the script had been sent. There had been no response, and she’d wondered if anything would come of it. Or worse, she’d feared being caught. Since nothing had happened in the few days she’d been living in the Institute, she figured she was fine.

And now this.

Patriot wanted to meet with her. They wanted to help. They had risked themselves, and their place inside the Institute, to contact her.

The severity of the situation was not lost on Rebecca. She straightened her spine and tucked the message deep into her pocket, where it wouldn’t be lost. Later, when she found a way to completely destroy it, she would do so.

Shaun wanted to speak with her that afternoon, something about a way she could help the Institute. Until then, she had time to herself. She was supposed to be learning about the Institute, after all. Getting to know the scientists and showing interest in their work - as long as she took care not to look too involved - would be good. Getting to know the person the Railroad codenamed Patriot counted, at least in her book.

So she did so, leaving her room and heading for the rendezvous point. The doors opened to her, these ones unlocked and open to everyone. It seemed like most hallways had doors on either end, as if the Institute was prepared to lock down all areas. Considering their work, it was entirely possible.

There were maintenance rooms scattered around the place, each for a different set of tools or a different department. The one she needed was in a back hallway, far from eavesdropping ears. She kept an eye on her surroundings, hoping to attract little attention as she walked. It seemed like most of the residents paid her little mind. The exception was some of the scientists. One or two stopped her, asking if they could ask her some questions or otherwise gather data about the surface world.

She considered agreeing to some of the scientists’ wishes. It couldn’t hurt to let them run their tests or do whatever it was they needed to do. None of that could compromise her mission, and maybe she could help them realize the surface world wasn’t the scary wasteland they seemed to think it was.

That was for another day, however, and so she evaded them and made her way to the maintenance closet. Checking one last time to make sure she wasn’t followed, she opened the door.

Someone was already there. He was seated on one of the crates, hands folded before him. He had short blonde hair and kind eyes, and his handshake was enthusiastic.

“Hello, you must be Patriot,” Rebecca said quietly.

“Yep, I guess so. I’m not sure where you get the name, though. I got your message the other day, but I hesitated to respond right away. Anyway, the name’s Liam Binet. I work with my father in robotics.” Liam nodded towards the door. “You should probably close that. I know, it’s kinda cramped in here, but we won’t be here long.”

Rebecca did as he suggested. “Okay. You help synths get to the surface, right?”

“That’s right. I try to get synths out of here as often as I can without attracting suspicion. It makes it easier that I work in that department. I can’t help them beyond that, but I know that if they can at least make it to the surface, they have a chance.” Liam sat on the crate again and waved for her to sit as well. “I just always hope that someone gives them some help. I mean, I know they’re not helpless in any way. But the surface is dangerous and if someone can help get them started...”

Rebecca slowly sat down. “Well, a lot of the time, someone does.” She hesitated, spinning the wedding band on her finger. “The Railroad picks up a lot of them.”

Liam gaped at her. “The Railroad?” he echoed. “Holy...I never imagined that I would be working with them. I guess I can rest a little bit easier, knowing that the synths do get help when they get up there. Hmmm….well, I can assume you work with them, too.”

He gave a wry chuckle. “Don’t worry, friend, your secret’s safe with me. Considering you know about me and my actions, I think we can strike a compromise. Now, with you being here, we can make bigger plans.”

“What kind of plans?”

“I mean, we can get more synths out, and faster. We’ll still have to be careful, but I know there’s a lot of them ready to go.”

Though Rebecca liked the idea of getting as many synths out of the Institute as possible, she knew that would draw more attention to the issue than she was prepared for. She was in the Institute to do more than free synths, and she feared getting them all in trouble this early.

“Oh,” she said. “Alright. Let’s hear your plans.”

Liam stood up. “I have a friend among the gen 3’s. We’ve been working together on this whole operation for a few years now. Let’s go talk to him, see just how many synths we have to plan for.” He walked to the door and stopped just before it. “We may want to talk about something else on the way. Just in case any of the others are watching.”

They left the maintenance closet, Liam leading the way towards the robotics wing. Along the way, he asked her about the surface and how things worked up there. Once they were in earshot of others, he audibly invited her to see the work he and the other scientists were working on, and she audibly agreed.

Inside he led her over to his workstation, waving towards the screen. “Pretend you’re interested,” he instructed, voice pitched low. He pulled up a diagram on the screen and started pointing out parts to it. After a minute, he stopped and, without looking up, spoke to the synth working near the desk. “Hey, Z1. This is Rebecca. She’s with the Railroad and she’s here to help us.”

Z1 kept his face impassive as he continued his work. “Can we trust her?”

“I think so. How many synths are there waiting to get out?”

“Thirteen.”

“Thirteen, got it. And there will be more, I’m sure.” Liam thought for a moment, still occasionally gesturing to the screen. “We can get them to the relay, but it won’t be easy. The SRB keeps it locked tight and only certain people can get up there. I can’t get up there too often, myself. But with your help, Rebecca, we can just use the code. How do you feel about getting it for us?”

“I could do that,” Rebecca said. “Where would I find it? I’m not good at hacking things.”

“That’s a fair question. Ayo probably doesn’t keep it written down anywhere. That’d be too risky.” Liam switched to another screen before sitting down and pulling out some kind of prototype from his desk to show her. In between his casual narration, he continued, “See, I’ve tried to hack my way past it, but I need an old-fashioned username and password. If I were you, I’d ask your friends for help. There might be something left behind when the Institute went underground all those years ago. Check the old offices, or even the homes.”

Rebecca wasn’t sure how she was getting to the surface, but she didn’t mention that. “Got it. In the meantime, what will you two do?”

“We have to get the others ready to leave. It’ll take time to do this right, but everyone knows that. The synths have been waiting a long time for a chance to get out of here, and they won’t want to rush things and ruin it.” Liam finally stood upright and turned to Rebecca. “You get that, and we’ll be in business.” Louder, he said, “See? I told you robotics was pretty cool. You should talk to Doctor Navarette. She’s a wizard when it comes to programming stuff.”

“I see. Yes, I’d love to speak with her someday. I’m still trying to wrap my mind around all of this stuff.” Rebecca caught Z1’s eye and gave a slight nod. As Liam walked with her to the door, she said, “Thanks for taking the time to show me. I’ll have to see if the other departments will consider doing the same.”

“Oh, I’m sure. Around here, a lot of us really like talking about our current projects. Give us the chance to go on and on about it, and well, there you go.” With a genuine laugh, Liam turned back towards the lab. “I’ll see you around.”

Back in the main area, Rebecca considered her options. She had to find a way to get to the surface. She couldn’t use the relay without the same password, or attracting attention. She wished she could leave of her own volition, but it seemed Shaun was hesitant to give her the ability to teleport. Of course, that was understandable, but it still grated on her nerves. She had chosen to come here. She was not dragged or fooled.

Well, perhaps fooled. She sometimes felt like she was a fool for even wasting her time trying to get inside the Institute. Though she knew her older self - the one that wanted to find her son and bring him home - didn’t know better, she still wished she had done something else with her time. Sure, making the friends she did was something she’d never trade, but she could have focused on other things.

There was no sense dwelling on it, and again, how could she have known? How could she have known her son was actually the leader of the Institute? A sixty year old man, raised and taught by the same faction that she and her friends sought to fight? It was something that she still hadn’t quite processed, and she knew it would haunt her for a while.

Perhaps if she got on Shaun and the directorate’s side, she’d be given more freedom. Maybe she could request the ability to return to the surface. She knew they’d argue. Why go up there? It’s too dangerous. What do you mean, go home? Your home is here. Lasty, she could hear Shaun’s patronizing tone: You could do so much here, in the Institute.

The words made her skin crawl and she scrubbed her hands up and down her arms. Checking her Pip-Boy, she realized it was time to meet with Shaun. Swallowing back her misgivings, she walked up to his office.

There was another person there, a woman with silvery blonde hair pulled into a bun at the nape of her neck. She seemed to be checking Shaun’s vitals.

“Heartrate’s fine. Blood pressure isn’t too bad.” The woman turned to her bag and put away some of her tools. “Are you taking your medicine?”

“Yes, doctor,” Shaun said tiredly. “I’m taking all my little pills.”

“Great. That will keep your symptoms down and help you feel better.” There was no trace of irritation in the doctor’s tone, but perhaps there was the faintest tightening of her jaw. She looked up and saw Rebecca. “Oh, hello. You must be Rebecca. I’m sorry, I know you two are family, but I do ask that you respect patient privacy.”

Rebecca blinked. “Sure, of course. I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

She went to leave but Shaun spoke up. “No, no. It’s fine, doctor. I’m just an old man getting his check up, it’s nothing to hide.” He offered Rebbeca a smile, one that almost reached his eyes. “Good to see you, Mother.”

“It’s nice to see you, too,” Rebecca said. “You said you wanted to talk to me about something?”

“Right, I did. Doctor?”

“Yes, I’ve done what I need to do. I will be back in a few weeks.”

When the doctor left, Rebecca turned back to Shaun. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, yes. Like I said, I’m just an old man. Running the Institute will do a number on you, I’m afraid.” He laughed and the sound was strained. “Now, onto what I have to tell you,” he continued, standing up. “You know we have a problem with escaped synths. Without our influence to guide them, rogue synths are a danger to those around them. They must be stopped. We do our best to do so, but we don’t get all of them.”

Rebecca bit her tongue instead of saying what she really wanted to say. Which was: If you’d leave them alone, you’d realize most of them aren’t threats. And they’re escaping the Institute to get away from you and have their own lives.

Shaun seemed to accept her silence. “So, these rogue synths need to be dealt with in some way.”

Rebecca’s stomach twisted and she fought to keep a straight face.

“There is one that has taken over a group of what the Commonwealth calls “raiders” and has been terrorizing the area. I’m assigning a courser to you, and I want you to bring this synth back.” Shaun kept eyeing her and when he detected no reaction, he continued speaking. “I will give you the coordinates and then you should head up to the relay. I will have the doors unlocked for you, like I did when you first arrived. Gather your supplies and if you need anything else, I’ve told the Synth Retention Bureau to lend you a weapon. Do you have any questions?”

“No,” Rebecca said, her voice coming out evenly. Somehow. “Get my supplies, go to the relay, bring back the synth. Well, I do have one question. Why me?”

With a sigh, Shaun straightened his jacket. “The directorate doesn’t quite think you’re ready for what we have planned for you. I am speaking for you, Mother, and they trust my judgment, but I cannot change their minds completely. This is a way for you to prove yourself. I’m sure you’ll be fine. You braved the surface world, remember?”

“Yes, I’ll manage.” She cleared her throat. “Will I meet the courser there, or will they be here?”

“It will be waiting for you. Here are your coordinates.”

There was nothing else to say. She nodded and took the dismissal, leaving the room before she lost her composure.

Bring back an escaped synth.

The horror of that sank in and Rebecca buried her face into her hands. That went against everything she and the Railroad stood for. It made her angry and sick, and yet she knew she had little choice. She had to stay on the Institute's good graces, at least long enough to get information for the Railroad and to free the thirteen synths Liam told her about. One synth, one who had apparently turned into a raider and was hurting other people, was not worth the lives of all of the rest.

The thought brought her little comfort. Squaring her shoulders, she went to her room to prepare.

[creednight]

Death with Dignity

Inspired by the song of the same name by Sufjan Stevens. The meaning doesn’t exactly fit, but the song just makes me feel so many emotions. Inspired by this post!!  It’s really long, just a warning, and angsty. I love afterlife stuff and will probably do more for this, but I wanted to get this one out. Also, as a point of reference, Edward is the age he is in AC 4, Haytham: AC3, Ezio: Revelations, Connor: Post AC3 and Altair AC 1. 

The buzzing stopped moments after it started, but Desmond’s body still feels like it’s vibrating. He remembers lights and a searing heat traveling up his arm, a loud booming sound, the buzzing and now this silence. 

Are his eyes open? Yes, it’s just dark. 

“H-hello?” he calls out into the black sea while walking forward. 

Walking? He glances down to see his body in his usual garb, that’s a relief. Is this Heaven? Hell? Do Assassins go to a special in between?

Up ahead he spots a white light and makes his way towards it. The sound of footsteps fades in and the light seems to rush towards him. He shields himself, bringing his arms up as he’s engulfed by light and warmth. 

Once again, he opens his eyes and is met with a garden. It looks familiar, a memory nags at the back of his head as he steps around the rows of crops towards a house on the other side of the field. He feels a sense of warmth bloom in his chest as he approaches.

The house is two stories built with some kind of light brown stones with an old wooden pergola attached to one side of the house. Desmond recognizes this style from Ezio’s memories. It hits him like a train and he stumbles into one of the support beams of the pergola. 

“Easy there, mate,” a voice calls as a body flanks Desmond’s side.  He glances up into the blue eyes of a blond man and frowns. “God?” The man barks a laugh and pats his back hard. “Nah, I’m more like the devil ‘imself actually.” “Who are you then? Where the hell am I?” Desmond stands up and takes a step away from this man. He stares at him longer, watching as the man’s blue eyes grow soft looking at him. Realization dawns on him and he exhales. “You’re the pirate.” “Aye, I’m Edward Kenway, captain of the Jackdaw,” he puts out a hand. When Desmond takes it he pulls him in and wraps an arm around his neck with one arm and ruffles his hair with the other. “An’ you’re Desmond, ain’t ye? We’ve been waitin’ for ya!”

“Wait what?” Desmond takes a step back, his arms up as if to hold Edward in place. “I’m dead, right?”

“Aye, thas’ right,” Edward nods as if it should be obvious.

“Then where am I? What do you mean ‘we’?”

Waving his arm inwards, Edward grins at the boy. “Come on, you’ll see. Yes, you are dead, but you’re home now.”

“Home?”

There’s no reply as Desmond is brought around the house to an open courtyard with a large table set and full of food. Music plays from somewhere in the background and suddenly Desmond doesn’t feel so heavy anymore. The burning pain he felt moments ago, the buzzing he heard is all gone. It almost feels like the animus...

“Ah, Desmond,” a deep voice calls.

Desmond turns to see a younger than expected Haytham, maybe in his thirties at this point, dressed in Assassin’s attire despite his turnover later in life. For a second, Desmond feels bitter, after having been through Connor’s life; it’s a struggle to be able to face this Kenway. Haytham holds out his hand and offers a wry smile.

“I understand your emotions, but what’s done is done,” he reasons and then grins when Desmond accepts his hand. “We’re here now.”

“I’ll think about it,” the younger assassin shrugs his shoulder before turning to see another figure show up. This time he grins and sticks his hand out. “Ratonhnhaketon, it’s an honor.”

The Native American smiles at Desmond, his hair is longer and pull back out of his face. He looks much older than his twenties and is dressed in his traditional assassin’s robes. His girth is intimidating close up and Desmond fully understands why some Templars shrank away from him in the Animus.

“The honor is mine,” Connor shakes his hand then reaches up to grasp his shoulder and pull him closer to the table. “There are plenty of people here to meet you.”

“Oh?” Desmond feels himself relax and more figures begin to appear in the courtyard.

He recognizes some from the database, other people his ancestors knew, other assassin’s who have made their mark in the Brotherhood. Others he doesn’t, he never did read too much into the database, preferring to just use what was needed. Man, he wishes Shaun and Rebecca were here...

“Why the long face?” Connor pauses in his tracks when Desmond’s face crumples up a fraction.

“M-my friends... my dad...” he stammers and wipes at his face with the heel of his hand. “I did this to protect them a-and...”

“It’s alright, lad,” Edward comes up on Desmond’s left and offers him a pat on the back. “We all understand the sacrifices you put in and what ya lost along the way. It’s going to hurt for a while, it’ll get better.”

With a nod, Desmond shakes off the grief to make it through this strange party. Connor resumes in bringing him over when a tall, not taller than Connor, figure comes up. He recognizes the man and nearly falls to his knees.

Ezio Auditore dressed in the robes from his time in Masyaf, gazes at Desmond with a slight smile and bright eyes. The two gaze at each other, Desmond cannot fathom this moment. Having relieved this man’s memories for so long, dealing with his pain and his happiness, so much so he couldn’t tell himself apart from him makes this moment so surreal. Finally, the italian reaches up with both hands and grasps Desmond’s shoulders.

“For all those years I never understood that message, you were the one,” his voice is deep and it rattles Desmond. “It is nice to finally meet you, Desmond. Desmond, it’s you.”

“E-ezio...” Desmond is speechless and damn he hates himself for it. What kind of man is he? “Shit. I don’t know what to say.”

Ezio’s booming laughter fills the courtyard. “Come sit, we will find the words together.”

Ezio takes the spot across from Desmond with Connor sitting on the younger man’s left and Edward on his right. One by one the crowd takes a seat and Desmond watches as the table fits everyone comfortably as they converse with one another. He gazes at all the faces in awe.

“I’m not related to everyone here am I?” he wonders out loud.

“Not necessarily,” Ezio explains while piling some food on his plate. “These are all of those in and associated with the Brotherhood...”

“Federico? Claudia? Is that Petruccio?” Desmond feels his heart ache at the sight of Ezio’s family. He remembers the depression he went through trying to sift through Ezio’s grief that was messing with his head. The deaths of the Italian’s brothers and father haunted him for a long time.

Ezio grins as his family materializes on his left, Desmond’s right. They grin at him, all of them looking more mature than when he last saw them. Federico wasn’t frozen in his early twenties from his death. He’s grown into a man, strong jaw, five o’clock shadow and elegant hair. He’s supposed to be older than Ezio, but his appearance is that of a thirty year old.

Petruccio is in his twenties, he’s still got his boyish looks about him, but it’s charming. Obviously an Auditore with that smile and lean muscled build. He would have made a fine assassin had he lived.

Claudia had grown up in the Brotherhood, her eyes are sharp and focused. Her lips, even while curled into a smile is dangerous. She’s beautiful and dressed in a deep red dress with cream ribbons in her hair.

“I see the Auditore genes run strong in your family,” Ezio comments with a grin, eyeing Desmond’s beard.

The young man raises a brow. “I mean, I did get some girls in my time too.”

“Unfortunately, he is most like you, Brother,” Claudia snorts.

“Nonsense, he clearly looks like me,” another voice interrupts and Desmond whips his head up to see Altair standing there with Maria Thorpe at his side and their two sons behind them.

Everyone at the table greets the new arrivals with a slight bow of their heads and smiles. Desmond stands up, unable once again to find the words when faced with Altair. He’s gonna punch himself in the face for being this fucking stupid in front of his ancestors. Who is he? Shaun?

“Look at his face, Altair,” Ezio gestures to him. “Clearly me.”

“His eyes,” Altair gestures while grinning at Desmond. “Me.”

“You all look the same,” Connor butts in with a flat tone.

This diffuses the argument as laughter bursts around the entire table. Desmond takes a seat as Altair and his family fills in the spot on the other side of Ezio. Dinner commences then and while Desmond has a long path of grief to go along he can’t help but feel good being surrounded by all his ancestors. They’ve been through the war he just got out of, they’ve seen the horrors and felt the losses. He’s here with them now and he can only wait and see what comes next.

[sleepyfan-blog]

@gunplayreyes​

here’s your thing

The two of them had gone to a hotel, paying in cash for two rooms and both of them in disguise.  Shaun and Rebecca were out on a grocery run and would be sharing the other room. They were on the run – as they always seemed to be – from the Templars, dodging around large cities and when they had to use unencrypted phones, they used burner phones once to other numbers that were used a handful of times before being deactivated.

William was arguing with the front desk lady about something after he had paid for the room, so Desmond had trudged over to the room that matched the card and slid the keycard in the slot, waiting for it to beep and enter the room, closing it carefully behind him. He performed the standard checks that one did in a hotel room – that there were enough pillows and blankets, that the sheets were fully clean and that there were no listening devices or other technological bugs that might watch or listen to them, double-checking with his second sight. Desmond found it incredibly useful that his second sight did allow him to easily spot such things… And to his relief, there was nothing dangerous to them in the room.

There was a window in the room – large enough for the both of them to escape out of if necessary, and as they were on the third floor and there wasn’t an easy way to climb up there – if you weren’t an Assassin at least – it should be fairly safe. Desmond opened the window enough to breath in some of the fresh air, smiling a little as he looked at the charming little town that they were currently in. His left arm twinged a little and he rubbed the skin, glad that his arm had mostly healed from the damage that had been done when Juno had been released. Lying bitch had told him that his death would be instantaneous and painless. It had been neither, and though Desmond had tried not to scream in pain as the electric energy stabbed into his body, he was unable to stop himself. The memories of what had happened a few months ago started to remind him of what he had very nearly lost.

Desmond hadn’t expected was his father to appear out of nowhere and wrench him away from the eye, the Sword of Eden in hand as he struck Juno down just as her consciousness was about to escape the confines of the Temple. His father’s face had been twisted into a protective snarl as he struck her down, hissing “Did you really think I would sacrifice my son to you, you miserable phantom! Or that the others would not have a contingency plan in place, when you tried to escape? You have been manipulating humanity for far, far too long, and your shadowy reign dies here!”

Juno had screeched angrily and coughed, struggling against the blade, her eyes blazing with fury. She started to fade along the edges, but seemed to be still clinging to what little life she had left “And what of the world? Killing me dooms almost all of your people to a fiery death, and it will be on your shoulders William Miles. Your daughter was willing to sacrifice her life to save humanity as it is. I would be there to guide your squabbling, warring people to a greater unity. There is still a chance to save your people. Join her in death and I will survive.”

“You are wrong on a number of things. First and foremost you blind bitch, Desmond is my son and I am proud of all he has done. He… You have sacrificed much in order to save humanity, and this possibility was something that was only very recently found to be the best bet for humanity to survive and be free. Juno would not let you leave the Temple once you entered, which is why we didn’t tell you. That and… Finding the Sword of Eden proved to be difficult. I… I didn’t want to raise your hopes up falsely, son. The world is safe, it is you who will die this day. The Reign of the Precursors has long since come to an end, and you are nothing but a dying shade.” William growled again, twisting the blade and activating it’s ability, forcing the lightening to pulse through Juno, causing her to scream and shatter into thousands of pieces of strange code. He was holding onto Desmond protectively, helping the younger Assassin stay on his feet.

As soon as the last fragments of Juno had vanished, William let the Sword drop to the floor, holding onto Desmond and pulling the other into a tight embrace. “I have been a shitty father, and a poor teacher. But I love you, Desmond. You… You wanted the freedom to fly and run as you pleased… Which is why I did not have the others pursue you as ardently as they could have, after you ran away. There is medical help beyond the door and I will make sure that both the Apple and the Sword will be hidden separately and well. You have done wonderfully, Desmond.”

Desmond knew he had been half-delirious from the pain, couldn’t help the broad grin that appeared on his face. The praise that his father had lavished upon him – and that his father had called him son and stood up to what fancied herself as a goddess to use his chosen pronouns… A small giggle escaped him. “You… You called me son… You… You love me…” He hugged the other back as best as he could, his left hand hurting more than he had ever thought it was possible for it to hurt.

“Of course. You are my son. I never said it enough, and that is a terrible failing on my part. But Desmond.” There was sternness in his father’s tone. Warning and a frown that meant that Desmond was In Trouble. “Do not die on me. Do you hear me? You are stronger than this. I believe in you. We found a way to overcome the Precursors, you will not succumb to their desire to have you dead.”

“… I’ll try, dad. It… It hurts so much.” Desmond responded, realizing that the blackness that had been at his fingertips of his left hand was starting to spread up his arm and he was suddenly so cold… Darkness was starting to eat at the edges of his sight as well, and panic seized him. Desmond had never been able to fully verbalize any of the reasons why he had run from the brotherhood. From his father. No one else was n the room, and as he was pretty sure that he was going to have to disobey Bill’s order about dying, he gave into the impulse that he had been fighting against at different points since his dad had come crashing back into his life. He leaned in closer to William and went up on his tip-toes and kissed the other on his lips. They were alone and as he was probably going to die anyways, he wanted to taste the person he had been fantasizing about since he was fifteen.

“I… I love you too. Jus’ … Not the way that I’m supposed to.” He whispered after the brief kiss, pulling away from his visibly startled father. “… Sorry…” With that, Desmond could not fight the darkness eating at the edges of his vision anymore and passed out in his father’s arms.

Desmond had woken up, of course. In something that looked very much like a hospital room. In a sense, it had been, but it wasn’t from a recognized hospital, but rather the medical ward of one of the few permanent Assassin Bases in Europe. They had flown him in from Italy to wherever he was. He knew that from the helpful – and sarcastic – note that Shaun had left him at his bedside. His blades had been taken from him, but were next to the note on the bedside table. There was an IV attached to his uninjured arm – as well as an explanation as to what the hell was being put into his veins so that he didn’t rip the drip out as soon as he was aware enough to do so.

… Not that Desmond would have done that. Probably. But the precaution and the explanation had been nice. They had kept him bedridden for two weeks – and hadn’t put him in the animus once. Bill had been absent those two weeks, needing to put out metaphorical fires all over the world as the head honcho of the Brotherhood. But Desmond had seen Shaun and Rebecca almost every day, and Shaun had actually been nice to him… Which probably meant that the acerbic Brit had thought that he was at death’s door or something.

He had healed well, and after a couple of awkward and private conversations with his father once they had left the base the two of them had come to an agreement. They would… Explore Desmond’s… Desires for William, carefully. If either of them felt uncomfortable, both would back off, and Desmond would be the one to initiate things of a more intimate nature. Desmond was just glad that Bill hadn’t rejected the notion and locked him up in a mental facility and thrown away the key … Although the Templars probably would have found him sooner or later that way. The fact that his dad was willing to even consider indulging his illicit wants was… It was a marvel that Desmond was quietly grateful for. He just hoped it wasn’t because he had helped to save the world or anything like that as he didn’t want to push the physicality that he wanted from his father if Bill truly didn’t want it.

One train ride where Shaun and Rebecca had flown on ahead to set things up where they had a private sleeping car had served to show that Desmond’s dad was absolutely up for anything that he was, given that after Desmond had kissed Bill again and asked the other to fuck him, William had enthusiastically indulged him. Even with his increased healing ability, some of the marks that the older Assassin had left on him had only just healed by the time they had caught up with Shaun and Rebecca. Not that Desmond had minded wearing the hickeys that Bill had left on his neck.

“I thought that you were going to take a shower as soon as we got in.” Bill called out, waking Desmond from his daydreaming. There was a note of concern in the other’s voice as the older man walked over to him.

“Huh? Oh… I was but… It’s a nice view and I got lost in thought. My own thoughts, not one of the others’ this time.” Desmond responded, knowing that his father was worried about the Bleeding Effect. Whatever Juno had been attempting to do while slowly killing him, it seemed to have stripped Desmond of most of the Bleeding effect. Occasionally he did see people who were hundreds of years dead, or hear the voices of his ancestors’ loved ones… But it was much less often than it had been before he had nearly died.

“I hope those were happy memories you were thinking of. I was able to get Shaun and Rebecca’s room on the other side of the hotel from ours, so that we have privacy. The walls here are rather thin, but so long as we are quiet… If you like, we should be able to indulge in being alone in a room together for more than an hour or so.” Bill remarked, voice dipping into something close to a seductive purr.

Desmond shivered in anticipation, a small smile appearing on his face as he turned to face his dad and moving in closer to the other and pressing a kiss to the other’s lips, humming happily at that “I think they’ll be grateful for that as well… As I saw Rebecca grab a box of condoms and wave them at Shaun with a grin while we were at that convience store this morning. You should have seen the way Shaun flustered. It was really funny. But I saw them kissing a bit after that – not that they saw me.”

Bill scoffed a little and chuckled “I see.  Unfortunately I need to check on a developing situation. A potential descended of Shay Cormac has been found by Abstergo and if they’re able to go through that man’s memories…”

“They… They’ll show his memories as a game, something worse than when they bastardized the memories of Mentor De Grandpere’s life. Neither one of them deserve that.” Desmond responded with a growl, an unhappy frown appearing on his face.

“… You know of who Cormac is… How?” William responded, a rather surprised expression appearing on his face.

“Haytham knew him, and I did see a couple of memories of him as Haytham. I found out more through Connor – he and Aveline found out what happened to the then New World brotherhoods and why when Cormac confronted the two of them after the revolution was over for a couple of years. They… They very nearly came to blows, but Connor looked too much like his father for Shay to be able to strike fatally. Not that he knew who Connor was to his grandmaster at that point.” Desmond explained quietly. “I… I’m gonna have a shower and then see if I want to go swimming. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

“I’ll tell you. Be safe Desmond.”  Bill assured him, watching the younger man leave.

~

Hours found Desmond in his father’s lap, with the other’s fingers deep inside of him, twisting and teasing him as he moaned and gasped into Bill’s shoulder, shuddering at the pleasure that the other was sending through his body. “Ah! D-daddy! P-please! Ngh…I-it feels so g-good!”

“It’s supposed to, my son. I enjoy having my fingers so deep inside of you, the way you clench around me… And the sounds that you make, soft but oh so sweet… There’s a good boy. Let the pleasure take you.” William instructed, voice gentle but firm as he continued to move his fingers in and out of his son, pressing a kiss to the other’s lips.

Desmond continued to writhe and gasp in his father’s lap, his fingers dragging down the other’s back as he tried to keep himself from being too noisy “A-AH! D-dad… Ngh… P-Please!” He was trying to ask the other to fuck him, but every time he tried, more nonsense escaped him instead.

“You’re so wet for your daddy… Hmm… I’m quite flattered. You’re getting close to coming, aren’t you? Then again, I have been teasing you for some time. I’m glad that your stamina in this is improving wonderfully. Not that I mind making you come several times. You make the cutest noises and faces when you come. That’s it… Good boy… Do you want me to fuck you properly, or would you rather I take you with just my fingers?” Bill asked, continuing to tease his son, a playful smirk curling on his lips.

Desmond whimpered and gasped, wanting to plead for the other to fuck him properly, but every time he tried, Bill’s fngers would tease him and he would lose all sense of coherence “I… Daddy… Please! Nghaaah! Want… Want you… Please! Ah…. You’re… so hard… Do-Don’t you want to…?”

“Don’t I want to what, Desmond? Be specific, son.” William instructed with a wicked smirk on his face. His fingers continued to tease and move inside of Desmond, as he patiently waited for the other to respond.

“Fuck me! W-with your cock, d-daddy! Please!” The younger Assassin begged a bit louder than he had meant to, clapping one of his hands over his mouth, a worried expression appearing on his face. The walls of the hotel were concerningly thin, and while there wasn’t anyone in the adjoining rooms, Desmond could not say the same for the hallway.

“Shh, shh. You must remember to be quiet Desmond, but you have been so good so far. If that is what you want, I am happy to indulge you.” Bill purred, gently pushing Desmond away just far enough so that he could undo his belt and pants with one hand, pulling out his rock-hard cock. He had also pulled out a condom and a small bottle of lube from his pants with the hand that currently wasn’t inside of Desmond. He held out both things to the younger man, saying “Unless you’d rather I take my fingers from you, you will need to prepare me, as I do not want you to be sore. This is a reward, not a punishment after all.”

Desmond blushed a little, but nodded eagerly, moaning and nearly dropping both the condom and bottle of lube when bill teased his clit with his thumb. “Y-yes daddy!” He fumbled with the condom and lube for a bit, his father’s very gifted fingers distracting, but he managed to roll the condom onto the other’s cock and slick it up carefully – having remembered to put a bit of lube in the condom to make sure that it didn’t break. Both of them were clean, but neither of them wanted to deal with other potential consequences of their actions, either. Once the other’s cock was properly ready, Desmond scooted closer again, sitting up on his knees as his father’s fingers left him, moaning behind a hand as he slowly sank onto his father’s cock, shuddering and moaning in desire and delight.

“You are so gorgeous and handsome, son. And you feel incredible around me. Move when you are ready… Even though I want to flip us over and fuck you into the mattress, you have been such a good boy, as I promised, tonight is for you.” Bill praised again, pressing loving kisses to the other’s lips and face. This was far from the first time that they had been together, but with Desmond’s healing factor, the other would always be virgin-tight every time, which was one of the reasons why Bill was always very careful when stretching the other for him.

“T-thank you daddy!” Desmond responded with a bright grin, kissing the other back before steadying himself a little. After a couple of moments he put his hands on the other’s shoulders, shifted his knees a little and started to ride the other’s cock, moaning and gasping in time to the rhythm that he was keeping, moaning and gasping every time his father’s cock filled him up completely, a soft whine escaping him when his motions had the other’s cock nearly leaving him entirely.

~

A pleasurable haze of time later, the two of them had finished, showered and were in their bedclothes. Desmond was cuddled into his father’s chest, a small smile appearing on his face. “Thank you. tonight was wonderful.”

“You are welcome, and I thoroughly enjoyed tonight as well.” William responded back earnestly, brushing a finger along one of Desmond’s cheeks tenderly. “We need to sleep – we will have to head off early tomorrow. Cormac’s descendent is in one of three Abstergo facilities and Rebecca can hack into the closest one which will tell us for certain where they are. The closest facility is three days by car.”

“… We save the world and yet the Templars still continue on. But at least we don’t have to deal with Juno.” Desmond responded with a sigh, shaking his head.

“Yes, but the world continuing as it is… Is a good thing. The brotherhood will be able to overcome the Templars, and that… Newly acquired ability of yours should help us find the Pieces of Eden – if you want to go hunting for them. I won’t make you.” Bill responded quietly “… The templars won’t leave you alone, but if you don’t want to kill, I won’t force you to.”

“I… Thanks dad. I want to help the brotherhood. To continue fighting but I… I don’t think I can kill. I… I hesitate too much and that will get me killed. But I’m pretty good at getting people to talk to me. As a good bartender should be able to get his patrons to become chatty and sociable so that they’ll drink and stay longer.” Desmond responded, a determined expression appearing on his face.

“I will keep that in mind. Thank you, Desmond.” Bill responded. The two of them talked about nothing much for a little while longer before falling asleep.