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darkicedragon · 3 years

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Fanfic: Virus in the Machine

Fandom: Assassin's Creed/Prototype Summary: The Animus is malfunctioning, and Desmond is developing a cold. Then his week gets a whole lot weirder. Pretty typical, really. Rating: PG-13 Contains: Fighting and death in the Animus Notes: Set post-Revelations for AC, set post-Prototype. Spoilers for Brotherhood and Revelations; spoilers for all of Prototype. Outright ignoring Prototype 2, apart from the one instance, and it's not plot relevant to P2. Also bumping Prototype to the year 2012. Additional side note that this was written before AC3 was released. Spaaaaawned by dogmatix. XDDD Massive, massive thanks to her awesome work with the beta-read too! Genre: Friendship Word count: 11,721 Status: Work in progress (sort of… This part is finished, anyway.) LOADING… LOADING… LOADING… ERROR. UNABLE TO SYNCHRONISE. ERROR. UNABLE TO SYNCHRONISE. ATTEMPTING TO SYNCHRONISE. LOADING…

"Yeah, this isn't working," Desmond said to the great white expanse around him. This was, what, the fourth cycle it had gone through now? He heard Rebecca's frustrated sigh as the world started to fall away with tinkling chimes. "I don't get why Baby isn't accepting you! She was fine with you before!" There was a pause. "Unless…" He raised an eyebrow. "Unless what?" "Maybe something happened while you were in her?" Desmond winced, memories of the Island deleting itself flooding his mind. "That…could be it." Who knew what that had affected? Rebecca was rubbing her head when Desmond came out of the Animus. "This is going to be an interesting problem to fix, but I'm game." She threw him a grin before settling into her chair, her hands a blur over the keyboard. Pushing himself off the Animus, Desmond made his way to the kitchen-area to have something hot to drink; he'd been feeling warmer than usual lately and he just hoped that after all had happened, he hadn't gotten ill on top of everything. * Whatever Desmond was suffering from, it wasn't a cold – there was no sniffing or sneezing, and while he felt warmer than usual, almost clammy, his mind was clear. As clear as it had been before he'd been kidnapped by Abstergo. And that worried him. It was almost too clear; if Desmond wanted to, he could recall Altaïr's memories with no problem and then if he tried to think about something that had happened while he was bartending, he could do that too. No interference, no ghosts, no memories trying to jostle each other out of the way. It was like his memories and genetic memories had finally been organised into a library where its books stayed in place and, more importantly, separate from each other. He didn't want to delve into the memories too hard though, in case it was merely a pretence and as soon as he poked in the wrong place, it all fell apart worse than before. Shaun raised an eyebrow as Desmond helped himself to his third sloppy-joe burger that night. "Where exactly are you putting it all?" He shrugged, obeying his stomach's demand for more food first. "Hey, I haven't eaten in this body for how long?" He'd been feeling hungrier and hungrier ever since he'd caught whatever-it-was; he seemed to have a craving for meat and well, there were worse things to want. "Yes, but…" his dad said carefully, watching him as he ate, and that was something Desmond was going to have to get used to again, having his presence near him. "You're supposed to have small meals so your body can get used to digesting again." He paused and then sighed softly. "You haven't been throwing up, have you?" "No – you would've heard me," Desmond said dryly. Their new safehouse wasn't exactly on the big side – and it said a lot about their situation that a post-virus-stricken city was considered safe. Desmond grimaced as his mind suddenly connected the dots between their current location and his health. Fuck, his luck couldn't be that bad, right? He'd seen the pictures and videos though – he wasn't mindless or eating people (yet, one part of him pessimistically whispered, but he shoved that away) so he wasn't infected by the Mercer virus. Plus, if he was infected, then the others should be as well since they were hardly more than three minutes away from each other at any given time and he was the only one reaching for the fourth bun. He continued having dinner, determinedly ignoring his active imagination; he had more than enough on his plate already without adding 'infected cannibal' to the list. * "Aha!" Rebecca crowed, punching the air. "Got it!" She waved to Desmond before indicating the Animus. "Try 'er out now." "All right," Desmond said good-naturedly as he slid in. It didn't take long for the white world to come up and he waited to see if whatever Rebecca had done worked. LOADING… LOADING… SYNCHRONISATION COMPLETE. Oh, good. Desmond let out a relieved – SYNCHRONISATION: 70% "Uuh, Rebecca?" "That's weird…" He could hear her tapping away, but it didn't budge. "She's still a little glitchy, but she should be okay. Still wanna give it a shot?" He nodded. "Yeah, sure." * Everything was running pretty normally; Desmond got to learn about his new ancestor, Shaun provided entries for anything he could possibly have an interest in and Rebecca updated him about the Animus' problems (which weren't changing). The problems started when Desmond had to find his first target. He'd activated his eagle sense and froze, his mind halting in shock as his entire vision went red, a high-pitched sound echoing around him. "Shit! Desmond, your synchronisation just dropped to forty!" "Yeah," Desmond replied, dazed, "I'm not surp-" The shriek was getting louder. He whirled around to find the source and his eyes widened when he saw a rapidly expanding circle of –grey? Normal colour?- coming in from his left and then passing him. "…Did you just develop sonar?" Shaun demanded in disbelief. "I don't think so…" That couldn't be right. Still, his vision had been telling him something, so he started making his way over in that direction. "Make sure you don't use your eagle sense again," Rebecca warned him. "Who knows how Baby's going to react next time." "Got it." * Habit, unfortunately, is a hard thing to break. Desmond had gotten to the area that his vision had indicated but there was a crowd there and without thinking, he activated his eagle sense again. The world flashed red but almost instantly, there was an answering call, the man on the outer edges the source of the expanding circle. He wasn't glowing gold but a bright red, and Desmond stared as his vision apparently became x-ray, suddenly seeing the man's heart and neural network. What the fuck…? The world greyed out, the usual shimmering sound accompanying him as he desynchronised. Shaun cleared his throat. "Well, that was, uh, interesting." Desmond snorted, eyeing the space around him. There was a sigh from Rebecca. "Gonna have to call it quits here so I can find out what's wrong with her." Again, he wasn't surprised, and Desmond waited to be brought out of the Animus. * Desmond flicked through some of the Manhattan files on his laptop, boredom and restlessness starting to make itself known. At this rate, he was going to start playing Solitaire but- '…Where am I…?' Desmond froze, not wanting to even breathe. He couldn't have. After what had happened in the Animus so he could sort his mind out, he'd gained another voice in his head already? 'Uh…' He sighed, tipping his chair back onto its back legs. No visual hallucinations (yet), only auditory so far, and well, they were seeing about the thirty seconds. 'I'm just a hallucination…?' The chair legs hit the floor with a bang. Whoa, wait, why did that sound like the hallucination was responding to him? 'Because I can hear you.' The voice was dry, but there was some humour to it, and Desmond could feel the other's hidden confusion. That was new; normally he only heard and saw things. Oh…fuck. Desmond leaned his head in his hands. Great. He was talking to Connor in his head. Barely a day into his ancestor's life and Desmond was already losing it. '?' There was a quiet pause. 'I'm not "Connor"; I'm Alex.' He lifted his head, blinking. That wasn't… But now that he was paying attention, Alex's voice didn't sound like Connor's. But how had that happened? Had the Animus' glitching knocked some of his other ancestral memories loose or something? "So…what year is it for you, then?" Because apparently his mind deemed this important. Alex sent him some amusement, but that quickly faded, and if he'd had a face, Desmond was sure he would be frowning. 'I don't remember.' "Huh. Do you remember anything? Where you're from, being an Assassin…?" He waved towards his hidden blade. 'An assassin?' Images flickered in Desmond's mind's eye, and he couldn't help but snort at the people shrouded in black. "No, not those kinds of assassins." Alex sounded like he was an adult though, so if he hadn't been brought into it by then, he was probably from one of Desmond's non-Assassin branches of the family. So, that led him to the question of whether he should tell the others. He was talking to a voice in his head (and he was fairly sure the thirty seconds had passed by now) but for some reason this felt more…real than the other hallucinations, but that was like comparing watching a blurry film to a phone-call. Still, the next important question (which really should have been the first, but since when had Desmond's head worked in the usual way?) was: "Thinking about taking over my body and killing my teammates?" If Alex had eyebrows, Desmond was sure they would have risen. 'No.' He felt like he was being sincere and Desmond was mollified with that, trying his hardest to suppress memories of Lucy. 'I don't think I could; I think I can only watch…?' "Yeah, let's not go testing that theory, huh?" He got a chuckle for that comment. 'It's your body.' Which could be taken in so many different ways but Desmond was interrupted from retorting by a clearing of the throat. He froze, ice running through him. Shit. He shouldn't have been talking out loud! He tilted his head back, pretending everything was normal (and it was, now that Desmond thought about it, which was just a little depressing), and saw his dad standing there, looking at him curiously. "Testing what out?" "Uh." Great, wonderful start there. "Seeing what would happen if I tried to connect to the internet." He waved towards his laptop for extra emphasis. "Don't exactly want to bring the Templars to our door." "You don't have to worry about that," his dad assured him, "they've been fitted to be untraceable." Well, fuck. He'd been bored out of his mind for no reason? "Huh. Really?" His dad responded with a smile and then nodded towards the door. "Rebecca thinks she's fixed the problem with the Animus." Desmond was already on his feet before his dad had finished. * Desmond could feel Alex's curiosity when he approached the Animus ('"Soul"? Why would you name it that?' 'I didn't; don't ask me what was going on in their heads.') but he tried to keep his attention on what Rebecca was saying. Lying down, Desmond waited to get in the Animus. 'What are you doing…?' 'Would you believe me if I said I was going to relive one of my ancestor's lives?' A small considering pause. 'I guess I'll be finding out.' Desmond couldn't help the small grin that flashed across his face as the world fell away. * Alex had been quiet while Desmond worked through Connor's memories, but he could feel that his ancestor was keeping a tight hold on his questions, intense curiosity still leaking through between them. By the time he was exiting the Animus, Desmond wondered if it would just be faster for Alex to go through his memories than trying to answer them all himself. Desmond had been trying to keep an eye on his own thought processes in between everything else but he felt fine and everything seemed to be running the same as usual. Which didn't change the fact he was still talking to his ancestor in his head. Rebecca hummed, still focused on her laptop. "I think that was the last of the bugs," she told him, a finger tapping on a key. "I'm not entirely sure, but she seems to like you again." Desmond nodded to show he'd heard, rubbing the back of his neck. "Think I'm just going to hit the sack right now." More for the fact that there was no way he would be able to keep track of talking with the others while trying to answer Alex's questions at the same time than actually feeling tired. At least his hunger seemed to have finally settled down to something more normal so missing dinner wouldn't be too bad. "You okay?" He smiled at her, seeing her worry. "Yeah, just fine." Okay, so talking to his ancestor in his head wasn't good, but there hadn't been any merging of personalities or memories, so that was definitely better than some of the other stuff he'd gone through. * Desmond stared up at his ceiling, surprised he was actually feeling sleepy. Huh, maybe he hadn't been lying as much as he thought he was. And Alex was still burning with questions. And still not asking them, waiting, though not exactly patiently. Desmond couldn't stop the wide yawn that escaped him, and he shook his head afterwards. "You don't really need sleep, do you?" he asked softly. The door was closed, but it couldn't hurt to be careful – though, keeping his thoughts in his head would probably be a lot better. Alex turned the question over, considering it. '…I guess I don't, without a body. I'll need to rest my…mind, but I don't think I'll need to do it as much as you. Why?' He shrugged, already feeling his eyelids getting heavier. 'If you can poke through my memories, you can bring yourself up to speed that way – you're going to end up seeing them one way or another anyway.' Either by accidently tripping over them or Desmond bringing it up himself; at least this way, Alex could have most of his questions answered. 'If you're sure…' 'Yeah, I am.' He yawned again, harder this time. 'Just don't make me have nightmares,' he joked. Except Alex seemed to be taking that seriously. 'Mm. All right; I'll make sure you don't.' Desmond fell asleep before he could think of a response to that. * 'Desmond.' '…Wha-?' 'I think you should wake up.' There was something in –it took a second for Desmond's mind to catch up and give him the information he wanted- Alex's tone, but it wasn't urgent, so Desmond flailed an arm at him. Which wouldn't work since this was all in his head, but he really didn't care at that particular moment. 'Shaun sounds kinda pissed.' 'Shaun always sounds pissed; it's his default setting.' 'Yeah, but…' A sigh. 'You're going to wake up anyway,' Alex muttered. There was amusement there, the kind someone had when they were sitting back and about to watch something very interesting. …Desmond mustered enough energy together to crack an eye open. Shaun was standing by his head, arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. "Oh? Is Sleeping Beauty finally awake now?" "So long as you didn't kiss me to wake me up," he replied. He breathed a laugh at Shaun's squawk. "Or else I'm going to punch you." "Yes, well," Shaun said, flustered, "I wasn't that desperate to wake you up." Desmond waved a hand at the other man. "I'm up, I'm up." He waited until Shaun was gone before getting out of bed. "How much did I sleep in?" 'Hell if I know. Can't exactly see anything unless you're looking at it.' That was a good point. The only way he'd know would be if he switched his laptop on, but that was a waste of time. Humming, Desmond started getting ready for another day in the Animus, only to freeze as someone yelled from far away. It wasn't anyone in the safehouse –Desmond knew what they all sounded like and this accent was all wrong- and Desmond's stomach dropped out from under him when he recognised it from yesterday's session with Connor. Fuck! Dammit, he'd hoped – but he could hear it clearer now, building in volume and number: people's cries as they died, their normal day conversations overlapping and coalesce into a low babble of nonsense. Desmond gritted his teeth and shut his eyes as the first ghostly figures flickered into view. 'What the hell?' 'It's the bleeding effect,' Desmond explained, peeking around him and still seeing them there. They looked more solid than usual, more defined. That was ten seconds now. Another twenty to go. 'Another twenty until what?' Alex asked, his tone dangerous. 'It's… All the time I spend in the Animus, all the stuff Connor is doing? I'm learning it.' Had they just passed fifteen? Shit, Desmond did not like how long this was going for its first run. 'I know that.' But Alex was listening, watching everything that was happening with a critical eye, looking for threats. 'Thing is, I'm taking on his memories at the same time and…yeah. This is the result.' The hallucinations still weren't abating and Desmond's heart kicked up a notch. Shit – fucking – okay, so Alex talking to him had turned out all right, but he wasn't becoming Alex, and Desmond could already feel the little slide of his thoughts, going from 'Connor' to 'me', the slight hiccup where he couldn't place whose memories were whose, the unconscious shift in the way he stood. Except the hallucinations disappeared between one blink and the next, and all Desmond could do was sway on his feet as his brain tried to adjust to the sudden change. The air rang from the lack of sound, and Desmond's eyes kept trying to find the hallucinations, focusing in and out. "What just happened?" he whispered. The bleeding effect normally ended by the hallucinations fading off or flickering into the background, not abruptly stopping. Was this it? Had he finally gone insane…? 'I…think I did something,' Alex admitted reluctantly. Desmond blinked. Then his jaw dropped open. "You – you did?" Swallowing thickly, Desmond cautiously prodded at the memories he had just been seeing. He saw it only in his mind's eye and when he pulled his attention away, the memory disappeared from his sight instantly. The mixing of his sense of self and Connor's had gone too, Desmond firmly knowing exactly who he was. 'Yeah. It's just - When you were hallucinating like that, the inside of your head went kinda nuts. Not all of it, just some of the memories started rattling around. And - I don't know, maybe it's because I'm in your head, or seen enough of your memories already, but the ones that were freaking out all "felt" like Connor's, and I was trying to concentrate on what you were seeing, so I…nudged those towards the rest of Connor's memories to make them settle down.' There was a drawn-out pause. 'I did it automatically, all right? I wasn't thinking and…' There was a frustrated sigh, Alex's thoughts tumbling against each other. And Desmond gaped harder when he realised Alex was trying to apologise. "Why are you sorry?" he blurted out. Maybe talking would help distract Desmond from mentally throwing himself at Alex's feet, wrapping his arms around his legs and never letting go. Because after all the weeks of trying to keep his head together and failing, still feeling his sanity slip bit by bit after every session in the Animus, having someone who could help him was an absolutely amazing feeling. 'Because…' Alex trailed off as he heard the rest of Desmond's underlying thoughts. 'Really?' And Alex still heard them anyway. Gah. "Really." Desmond sighed and sat down heavily on the edge of his bed. "Look, whatever it is you did? Keep doing it. Believe me, you have my full permission to muck around in my head if you have to." Alex didn't seem very convinced so Desmond tried for a different approach. "Have you seen my memories about subject sixteen? Clay," he corrected himself. Even after all the time he'd spent inside the Animus, talking with the remnants of Clay's memories, Desmond still found himself thinking of him as 'subject sixteen'. Maybe it was just a little easier thinking of him as a faceless subject than someone who had sacrificed himself again for him. Desmond shoved the thoughts away before they could spiral. There was a careful pause as Alex tried to find the answer, missing where Desmond's thoughts had nearly gone. Or maybe he was politely ignoring them. Who knew? 'He was the one who painted your room with bloody symbols,' Alex eventually said. "Yeah. Him." Desmond nodded, then flopped back, feeling the blanket under him. "That's what'll happen to me if the hallucinations last for more than thirty seconds." Alex didn't say a word, stunned. "So, like I said: go right ahead next time I hallucinate – I like being sane." 'I'll keep that in mind…' * The next couple of days ran smoothly with no more hiccups from the Animus, though Alex's memory stayed stubbornly stuck. They figured it was either because of how Alex had ended up in Desmond's head, or Alex had actually been amnesiac at one point in his life. It did bother Alex, but there wasn't much they could do about it. They had also started a small routine where, after every session in the Animus, Alex did a bit of 'spring-cleaning' of Desmond's head, making sure his memories were all in the right place. Strangely, even though Desmond was finally in a working Animus –and making good progress with Connor's memories, go him- the feeling of restlessness didn't leave him, growing with every passing day. Alex was similarly affected by it and it was getting to the point that Desmond was pacing his room as soon as they were out of the Animus. The rooms were suddenly too small, and Desmond felt the lack of fresh air like something was crawling over his skin. He'd found himself wandering more and more towards the exit, making whatever excuse he could to just be there for a few minutes. Which, okay, he could take a hint. 'What do you think about seeing Manhattan for ten minutes once we're done here?' Desmond asked as he got into the Animus. Relief was Alex's answer. 'Sounds good.' Desmond just hoped the restlessness didn't carry over too much or else he was in for an exercise in frustration. Surprisingly though, most of the session went off without a hitch; that should have been enough to warn Desmond that something had to go wrong near the end of it. Fuck! Desmond ducked a bullet and threw himself to the relative safety of a tree. Except that meant he'd just doubled-back and ended up running straight into the soldiers that had been chasing after him. He started scaling the tree but he knew he was going to be pulled or knocked down in about two seconds. Maybe if he – 'Use your tendrils!' 'My WHAT?' Desmond demanded, and fuck, there went his grip. He was able to push himself off though, and he was high enough that he soared above his enemies and landed behind them. 'Tendrils.' A very fucking awkward pause. 'You can't use them…?' Desmond grunted, dodging something pointy aimed at his head, his hidden blade drenched with blood. 'Of course not! Why do you-' A flurry of images, a fucking monster attacking him/Alex –but he recognised it but dammit, now was not the time to be trying to remember where from!- and that monster was suddenly in engulfed in- 'The FUCK was that?' 'Tendrils?' Alex offered hesitantly, and Desmond just gave up after that, bracing himself for the pain that reverberated through him as he was shot in the chest. Before the world could reform again, Desmond said, "Hey, I think I'm done for the day." Rebecca laughed. "Yeah, I wouldn't want to do that so soon again either." Once Desmond was out, he headed straight for his room, switching on his laptop as soon as he got his hands on it. 'Desmond…?' 'Alex.' Desmond took a breath, not sure what the fuck to think. 'That wasn't human.' Not that he had much of a leg to stand on with his First Civilisation genes, but apart from his eagle sense and reflexes, he was human. He'd felt the hunger Alex had had, the eagerness to…consume the – that was what it was. As soon as his laptop was ready, Desmond started searching through the stuff he'd been looking through when they'd first arrived in Manhattan. 'No, it wasn't,' Alex acknowledged quietly. 'Yeah…' And that wasn't the only thing that was off about all this. 'You were remembering something that happened only a couple of weeks ago – you can't be my ancestor.' There it was, and Desmond scanned the pictures of those 'Hunters'. Unless of course the Hunters had appeared somewhere else in another time, but the buildings that Desmond had glimpsed before the…tentacles had encompassed his view were far too tall and modern. 'But – I don't-' Alex was a whirl with confusion and Desmond was right there with him. What the fuck had happened? Desmond scrolled down, skimming over the contents but he paid attention when Alex suddenly focused on one particular picture, recognition exploding from him. A pale, sickly looking man with deep shadows under his eyes, though that was partially hidden under a dirty hoodie. The man denounced for unleashing the Mercer virus. Alex J. Mercer. Desmond could only stare, his mind completely blank. 'I released the virus?' Alex said softly, disbelief emanating from him. 'I – No. I didn't. I didn't.' The last word was a hiss, dull anger replacing his disbelief. Alex took a shuddering breath, and then as if something that been tripped, both he and Desmond were overwhelmed with memories, Alex's memories. Waking up in the morgue, releasing Elizabeth Greene, finding out he had never been Alex Mercer, but was a sentient virus that had absorbed the man's memories after Alex had released it and died, believing them to be its own. The nuke going off below him seconds after it had been dumped in the sea. Desmond found himself sprawled over his table, his face resting on his keyboard. He blinked, and then his breath caught in his throat as his hand rippled, a morass of red and black tentacles hissing into view before settling back into his hand. '…Shit,' Alex whispered harshly. "I'm infected," Desmond said faintly (an Infected, some part of Alex's memories tried to correct him). "But I didn't…" He swallowed. It wasn't like he knew how the virus spread. There was an uncomfortable silence on Alex's side. "What?" he asked, resigned to whatever worse news there was. That was his life, after all. 'I was, uh, caught in the explosion over the sea,' Alex carefully pointed out. And Desmond could see that, see as the helicopter was engulfed in flames, see as the helicopter spiralled…into the sea… "Please do not fucking tell me I drank you." 'Uh…' That – how did that even work? Shouldn't that mean there was a ton of Infected running about right now, and how weren't the rest of the Assassins - oh, of course. "It's because of my genes, isn't it?" Desmond groaned. "My genes fucked me over again." 'I don't know,' Alex said, giving an impression of shaking his head. 'That's the last thing I remember before this.' Desmond sighed, a long slow breath. How it had happened didn't matter; it didn't change the fact he was (an) (I)nfected. How long did he have until he became a Walker? And to think, losing his mind and thinking he was Altaïr or Ezio or his brain shutting down used to be a worry. At least then he wouldn't have been eating people! 'I…can stop the infection,' Alex offered. 'I can control every part of me, so I can halt the spread, but…I don't know about changing you back.' There was buried guilt there that Alex tried to hide but Desmond could still feel it. It was better than nothing; definitely better than becoming a Walker. "All right," Desmond said, nodding, bracing himself. 'Okay.' Desmond started feeling warm, a thrum underneath his skin, but that quickly died down after a few seconds. 'Done.' Desmond blinked. "…That's it?" He'd been expecting…more. More pain or something…flashier. 'I just had to tell myself to stop replicating.' A mental shrug. 'And-' Apparently Alex's memories came in waves because there was another wash of them, this time centred around a woman with red hair. Who had been stolen right in front of Alex's eyes. And had been in a coma when he'd gotten her back. 'Dana!' Alex gasped. Alex's –the human- sister, but this Alex cared for her as if she were his too. 'I – we have to see her! I need to know if she's all right!' "Alex," Desmond said, gritting his teeth against the onslaught as bits of information started flashing up in his mind's eye. Where Dana was being kept, where it was on the map, what Ragland had said. "We can only stay outside for ten minutes – we can't make it to the hospital in that time!" 'Yes, we can,' Alex said stubbornly. "Look," Desmond said as he rubbed a hand over his face, "even if I'd mastered every Assassin move and had kept training every day of my life, we still couldn't make it." A self-deprecating laugh, and Desmond started at the sound, not expecting that from Alex. 'You're thinking like a human,' he said not unkindly and holy fuck, Desmond was suddenly viewing Alex running up buildings, performing multi-storied leaps from a standing start and…gliding. Did he mention shapeshifting? Because, yeah, shapeshifting was in there too. "Oh…" Desmond didn't say anything for a few seconds, just watching the memories play out. "I – yeah, okay, we can make it. We probably won't even have to worry about the ten minutes if I can change what I look like." 'You won't be able to do as much as I…could, but it should be enough. Ragland's morgue is underground, so that should provide some protection too.' Desmond nodded, closing his eyes and seeing the path he should take. Now to get out of here without arousing too much suspicion. * And…that had been too easy, Desmond sighed after fitting the earpiece in. His dad had seemed relieved when Desmond poked his head through to the main room to tell him he was going out for a few minutes; seemed like the others thought he'd been cooped up for too long and were just waiting for him to explore. He'd gotten the usual warnings about staying out of sight and keeping in contact via the earpiece, but that was it. Then Desmond's thoughts halted as the first gust of fresh air coasted over his skin and he almost shuddered, something in him responding to it like it had needed it. 'I've never stayed inside for so long,' Alex mused. 'Guess going outside'll be something else to pencil into the schedule.' It didn't take him long to get used to it, and already, Desmond felt lighter, more energised. The restlessness that had dogged him for days lifted away like it had never been there in the first place. 'So…' Desmond drew out as he scanned the area around him for people watching him, 'how do I do this?' Alex pulled away, thinking, and then sighed. 'It's instinct for me: I go near a wall; tendrils appear at my feet.' '…Right. Helpful.' Desmond eyed the wall right next to him before he started jogging down the street. '?' 'We need to see if I can actually change what I look like.' He'd seen bits of how Alex did it, and Desmond really hoped he didn't have to do the same. Consuming a person by absorbing them whole via tentacles, gaining their memories at the same time? Not something Desmond wanted to do, especially since he'd just gotten rid of Altaïr's and Ezio's. A cautious shake of the head. 'I think…if you just have skin contact, that should be enough to get their DNA, and you won't get their memories either.' Well, that didn't sound too difficult. There wasn't a lot of people milling about but Desmond grimaced when he realised the closest people around him were women. Yeah, just, no. He kept searching. '? What's wrong with them?' And Alex honestly sounded like he didn't understand what the problem was. 'They're women,' Desmond pointed out. The confusion didn't clear, Alex still waiting. Oh, god, he was going to have to explain? 'They have breasts; I am not going around with breasts!' Alex was still unmoved. '…You want to waste time looking for a guy.' And unimpressed. Thankfully Desmond spotted a guy not too far away from him except dammit, the only exposed parts were his hands and face. Which wasn't surprising seeing as they were well into November but it would have been nice if he had a bigger surface to work with. At least the guy had stopped at traffic lights, waiting for them to change. Just a small 'accidental' nudge, nothing out of the ordinary should do the trick… Steeling himself, Desmond made his way over, raising his hood up at the same time. "Whoa, whoops, sorry 'bout that," Desmond said after bumping into the man, his hand flashing out and brushing the man's hand. He sent the man a guileless smile to counteract his glare and then carried on, somehow just knowing he'd been successful taking the man's DNA. Desmond glanced around to find some place to shift his appearance in…and couldn't find a convenient alleyway. 'Manhattan doesn't have that many alleys.' '…You're serious.' Why was none of this going as easily as Desmond wanted it to? A snort. 'Yes.' But – then – how the hell was he supposed to change his appearance without drawing attention to himself? 'Just shift here; so long as no-one's looking directly at your face when you do it, no-one'll notice.' Desmond's jaw nearly dropped open. 'You cannot - how can people not notice a guy suddenly going a few shades darker and his hair changing colour between one look and the next?' 'The hood helps,' Alex said dryly. 'They'll assume they were looking at someone else, or they'd remembered wrongly.' A small shrug. 'Wouldn't you think the same?' The retort that was on Desmond's tongue died. Any normal person would think that… 'What if they have a camera?' You couldn't argue if someone had solid evidence. If it was uploaded on the internet and the Templars found it… 'Does anyone have one out right now?' Desmond looked around, and he could see a few around people's necks and in other people's hands, but none were pointing towards him. '…You're sure this is going to work?' A nod. With a short sigh, Desmond could feel his heartbeat quickening as he hunched his shoulders and bowed his head, hoping that would be enough to cover most of his face, shoving his hands in his pockets at the same time, trying to hide as much of his skin as possible. He couldn't believe he was going to attempt changing his appearance in the middle of a busy street, but it wasn't as if he had any other choice, not without wasting even more time. Once he was ready, and after he'd checked that there was no-one looking directly at him from under the rim of his hood, Desmond gave one small nod. 'Think of that guy you just touched,' Alex instructed. He did and then he could feel the tentacles writhing over his skin. When they stopped, Desmond brought his hands out and saw that his skin was darker, his tattoo gone. His hidden blade was still there, a little looser than before, but he wasn't going to dump that, even if that identified him as an Assassin. Desmond lifted a hand to his hair – longer and curlier. And no-one was staring at him, pointing or screaming. Okay. That had been surprisingly easy, even if his heart hated him right now. But anyway, time to get moving. …Uh. 'Changing in front of people won't draw attention, but jumping and running up a building will.' 'By the time they notice, you'll be too far to see properly.' 'Cameras,' Desmond reminded him flatly. 'I really don't want to announce my presence to the Templars like this.' Or ever. 'How will they know it's you?' Alex asked pointedly. Desmond couldn't help his embarrassed wince. …Right. That had been the reason why he'd changed his appearance in the first place. 'And they'll assume I'm back long before thinking of you,' Alex added quietly. So they had the choice of the Templars finding out there was a virus-powered Assassin around, or panicking the public because they thought a virus-powered bioterrorist was back. Which he was. Aaand Desmond was just going to cut that thought short before his head started going around in circles. He walked over to the closest building, and he could already feel the tendrils curling at his feet in preparation as he tilted his head back to look up at it. Taking a deep breath, he jumped – and holy fucking shit he was suddenly several feet in the air, wind whipping through his hair. On instinct, he spun around so his feet touched the building and then he was sprinting up the side of the building like he was still vertical. He could hear screams and horrified yells below him, but all too soon, they faded from hearing. His hood slipped off and Desmond raised a hand to bring it back up; there was…a twist of something, and then he just knew the hood would stay in place and it did when Desmond flipped onto the roof. He wasn't even breathing hard and Desmond couldn't help the grin that spread wide across his face. He was loving this. Okay, the fastest route would be by air, but then a thought occurred to him, making him frown. 'We're going to be seen.' Not that that really mattered now – being followed on the other hand… Amusement was sent in his direction. 'No-one looks up.' Desmond was going to trust that, after everything else he'd found out, and seeing indistinct flickers of so many times Alex had been leaping over people's heads with them none the wiser, so that just left him actually flying. …Why did he have a feeling it was going to be the same deal? '…Instinct?' 'Instinct.' A brief pause. 'Jump and spread your limbs slightly.' Great. Taking a deep breath, Desmond launched himself into the air and did as he had been told; the air just seemed to catch him and then Desmond was gliding. It took him a few tries to figure out steering (and the 'dashing' as Alex put it, he would leave for another time, when he wasn't trying to wrap his head around the idea) but it was already starting to feel like second nature to him. Desmond hadn't chosen a very good place to leap from though since he nearly crashed into the adjacent (and taller) building straight away. He twisted to land on his feet –'Didn't even need to brace myself, huh.'- and was instantly running up the new building. Another multi-storey high leap and he was in the air again. 'Hey,' Desmond said when they were probably about halfway there and looking like they would have a couple of minutes to spare, 'you've been kinda quiet this whole time.' He didn't know what to expect, but he'd at least thought Alex would have been interested in the scenery or something. As far as he could tell, Alex hadn't been paying attention to the outside world. But then again, this sight was probably normal for him. 'It's…' Alex was giving off an aura of tightly controlled worry. 'How do I know this isn't the same? What if I've consumed you and our memories have scrambled together?' Desmond shrugged, then swore as that caused him to suddenly dive. 'This is different; you don't think you're me.' He paused, and breathed a laugh. 'And if you have? Congratulations – you've just inherited "save the world" from my shoulders.' '…I really hope I haven't consumed you then.' Alex relaxed slightly though, watching what Desmond was doing and correcting it so Desmond had an easier time moving around. Getting into Ragland's morgue wasn't that difficult and Desmond peered around cautiously, not seeing the doctor anywhere. No sign of Dana either. Probably a good thing though – less questions asked if someone came down and saw a clothed, breathing woman on one of the slabs. The door on the other side of the room opened and Ragland came out. As soon as Ragland realised he was there, he paused, raising an eyebrow. "Can I help you with something?" "It's…" Desmond sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. He hadn't thought about what he'd actually say once he got here, too focused on actually getting here. "I'm looking for Dana," Desmond said cagily, in case there were listening devices around. Ragland blinked and then his lips pursed slightly while he glanced at Desmond's still raised hood. "Prove to me who you are." Uuh… 'He thinks I'm you.' 'I noticed,' Alex replied dryly. Lie or not lie. Hm. It would be obvious that he wasn't Alex, especially when he couldn't change into his form (not that they'd attempted to, but Desmond really didn't want to try that out now). Letting out a breath, Desmond focused on his own appearance, his skin tingling as it changed. "I'm not him," Desmond stated, though Ragland would have already figured that out. "But he's…here." Head, heart, it would still be wrong whatever he chose to point at. Desmond ignored Alex's snort. "As for proof…" Uh, damn. Desmond had too many memories to pick from, all trying to be the one Desmond could use. It was kind of like trying to grab a pebble when a bucket of them was pouring down on your head. It felt like that too. And that there was Alex rolling his eyes. 'Here.' The jumble of memories cut away to focus on one particular memory and Desmond watched it for a few seconds to get the gist of it before trying to summarise it. "You needed access to the Penn Station bodies to try and find a cure for the virus, and Alex-" The words were already tumbling out of Desmond's mouth before he realised he was also translating Alex's thoughts about what had happened "-ended up playing bodyguard on the opposite side of a glass wall." 'He wouldn't stop complaining.' There was more, but it was mostly an undercurrent of thoughts and Desmond couldn't hear them. Desmond managed to catch himself before he added that part too. '…Yeah, I'm not going to say that to him. Attacking zombies are kinda stressful, you know? People panic.' 'Some people panic,' Alex opined dismissively, clearly feeling put-upon by squeamish civilians. Desmond was only just able to keep a grin from spreading across his face. Fortunately Ragland hadn't seemed to notice the hiccup in Desmond's attention, and the doctor nodded slowly before sighing. "I'd wondered what had become of him when the nuke went off," he said quietly. "When he didn't return… "Dana's here," Ragland said as he moved towards one of the coolers. "I had some tests done and as far as I can tell, there's nothing in her bloodstream that shouldn't be there." 'She still hasn't woken up…' Alex said softly, fretting. 'What are we-' "Where the hell are you?" Shaun's voice suddenly bellowed in Desmond's ear, making him jump. "Ow." …Oh, fuck. Desmond had been primarily worried about getting to the hospital undetected; he'd forgotten the others would notice if he wasn't back by the ten minute deadline. He caught Ragland staring at him, and he indicated the earpiece with a wave of his hand. A look of understanding flashed across Ragland's face, and he nodded. "What are you doing at the hospital? Oh, wonderful, you got hit by a car and got taken into A&E, didn't you?" The what and what? "Hey!" Desmond protested, shaking his head. Focus on the important stuff first. Like how did Shaun even know where he was? Did the earpiece have a tracker on it? Wait. Desmond stared as Ragland pulled Dana out - she looked like she was only sleeping, except that illusion was broken by the IV drip attached to her arm, the listless movement of her head. They didn't know what had been done to her while Greene had her, but the Assassins did have something that could possibly help. "Can you come here?" Desmond asked urgently, feeling Alex's attention on him again. 'What are you thinking…?' "Of course we're going to you, you idiot!" Shaun snapped. "And when you're back, we're tying you to the building so you can't wander away!" Ouch, that was one really worried Shaun there. "I'm not hurt," Desmond explained, hoping that would calm Shaun a little bit, "but…" He swallowed, taking a breath. "I need you to help me bring someone to the safehouse." Travelling at how many miles per hour, jumping dozens of yards in the air and landing? No, he was not going to be jarring Dana like that over and over again to get to the safehouse. Silence. "…I really hope you have a good explanation for all this," Shaun said quietly. Alex had caught where his mind was going, and there was surprise there. 'You're going to use…?' "It's worth a shot." "What?" Crap. Wrong method of communication. "Just…trust me." There was a rustle and then the distinctive sound of a car door closing. "We've been doing that since we met you," Shaun murmured. "We'll be there as soon as we can," Shaun said in a louder voice. "Don't go anywhere else, understand? Do I need to use smaller words?" Desmond rolled his eyes. "No." "Good." The sound cut off and Desmond realised he was standing next to Dana, stroking her hand, Alex feeling slightly embarrassed but unrepentant. "…Please tell me my body was just following directions and you didn't control my body," Desmond muttered. 'I wasn't actively trying to do it,' Alex admitted. A quiet sigh. 'I needed a closer look.' "Well, if I had any lingering doubts about him being there, they've been cleared up," Ragland said, hiding a smile. "Thanks," Desmond said dryly. There were a few moments of relative quiet as Ragland got back to work, Desmond staying by Dana's side, Alex's thoughts going around in circles. The earpiece crackled. "Desmond…" Rebecca said slowly, and Desmond blinked, paying attention. "How did you get to the hospital?" "That…" Desmond sighed, screwing his eyes shut. "I'll explain once you get here." Somehow. "I'm in the morgue." "Body snatching, Desmond? Really?" he could just hear Shaun say. Oh, the irony. "Well," Desmond said, looking at Dana's face again, "she's still alive, so not exactly." More silence. "We can't talk about this over the channel, can we?" Desmond let out a breathless laugh. Talking about how he'd been infected by a sentient zombie-causing virus? "No, we can't." A sigh. "All right. Be there in twenty." Desmond hadn't been keeping that close an eye on the clock but all too soon, he got the message that the others were waiting for him outside. Making sure he looked like himself (which just sounded weird), Desmond picked Dana up, cradling her head against his shoulder. Ragland waved a hand when he thanked him as he left, telling Desmond that he'd always be there if he needed anything. Rebecca frowned when she saw Desmond come out with Dana in his arms, but she didn't say a word as she followed him into the back, closing the door behind them. Shaun had turned around in the driver's seat, his mouth open to say something, but he stopped short when he saw them. "Desmond," Shaun said tightly once Desmond had laid Dana out on a chair. "Mind telling us why you've apparently stolen Dana Mercer from a morgue?" He froze. "How did-?" Right – it had been Shaun who had given him the files detailing what had happened in Manhattan in the first place. "But then again," Shaun continued on like Desmond hadn't said anything, "it would have been nice if you'd told us you were bloody infected!" Desmond gaped at him, his eyes wide. He checked Rebecca's reaction, but she wasn't surprised, nodding to show she knew too. She quirked an eyebrow at him. "We did the math: it took us almost forty minutes to get here by van - you made it here in just over ten." "Unless Assassin abilities now include 'teleportation' –which would be rather useful, by the way- the most likely explanation is that you were infected by the Mercer virus." Shaun sighed, looking over Dana's comatose form. "And now we get here to find you with the body of Mercer's sister… "So," Shaun said, leaning an elbow on the window, his lips a thin line. "Care to fill in the details?" Desmond let out a long breath, rubbing the back of his neck. Well, at least he didn't have to worry about them not believing he'd been infected; now how to say what had happened without looking crazier than usual. "I…" He let out a helpless chuckle. "We're not sure what happened – just, one day, I'm messing about on my laptop, and then Alex was talking to me. He didn't remember anything so we just assumed he was my ancestor." "…Just so we're clear here - when you say 'Alex', you mean Alex Mercer?" Shaun asked, his eyes narrowing. "Uh, yeah." Well, yes and no, but now was probably not the time to get into that whole situation. "Shit, Desmond, why didn't you say anything?" Rebecca asked softly. "Because we need what Connor knows and we're running out of time – we couldn't waste who knows how long trying to fix my head again, especially since that wouldn't have made any difference." He stared down at his hands, closing his eyes as he felt the tendrils convulse under his skin. The silence that surrounded him probably meant the others had seen that. A hum and Desmond opened his eyes, seeing Rebecca looking over Dana. "So you knew where Dana was because of Alex?" "Yeah. She'd…" Desmond blew air through his teeth. "Stuff happened." His eyebrows drew in as he went over their reactions. That was weird. "No-one's freaked out or anything by this?" He'd just admitted that he had the mind of a bioterrorist in his head and was infected with the virus he'd supposedly unleashed. Rebecca shrugged, a wry smile on her face. "We're Assassins fighting against Templars who specialise in misdirection and misinformation; just because the media blames Alex Mercer for releasing the virus, doesn't mean it's true." Except Alex Mercer releasing the virus was true, but Desmond was going to keep that to himself. "And it's not like there's a lot we can do about it, is there?" Shaun added, his tone softer than Desmond expected. "We've spent days with you while you've been infected. Chances are, we're already..." He trailed off uncomfortably, looking away. Desmond blinked, then mentally poked Alex. 'I don't know,' he admitted after a pause. 'The Walkers spread the infection through scratches and bites but I'd never…' He shrugged. 'If…I spread through the air, I don't think Manhattan would have survived.' "He doesn't think he's airborne," Desmond told them. "There needs to be contact and an open wound and anyway," he said, considering, "if you're not showing signs by now, you're clean." Since the usual incubation period for the Mercer virus was… Yeah. Way too fast. "Well, that's one bit of good news," Rebecca said with a grin as Shaun sighed in relief. The van started moving then, and Desmond leaned back, letting the rumble soothe him. He couldn't stop watching Dana though, and he guessed that was mostly because of Alex, making sure she was still there, that she hadn't fallen into an awkward position. "Do you have a plan?" Rebecca asked, her face lit up from her laptop screen. "About Dana – don't have to tell you it could make things difficult if we need to make a run for it." "Then again, we do have some experience with that," Shaun muttered under his breath, and Desmond wasn't sure if he was supposed hear that. He'd pretend he hadn't. "Yeah – I hope it'll work anyway." Desmond sighed, tugging at his sleeve. "Ragland doesn't know why she's like…this," he said, waving at Dana. "But, I think the Apple might be able to help," he admitted quietly. She glanced up at him, her eyebrows raised. "The Apple?" she repeated. He gave one slow nod, his stomach churning. "Yeah." They didn't know the exact extent of what it could do, but it was because of that he had hope it could help Dana. So long as… Desmond hoped the Apple didn't have any more secrets to unleash on them. Rebecca studied him intently for a few seconds before letting out a long breath, rolling her shoulders. "You sure you wanna do that?" He huffed, shaking his head. "It's the best chance we have of waking her up." If Ragland hadn't found anything in the time Dana had been in his care, and she hadn't woken up naturally with nothing else in her system weakening her or stopping her, then maybe something outside the usual scope of normal medicine would have better results. There was no reply for that, not that he'd been expecting any; they knew he was very aware of the dangers of using the Apple. It wasn't long until Desmond started to become aware he was hungry again. He frowned, eyeing the cabinets that surrounded them. They'd been in Manhattan for a few weeks already so everything had been cleared out and anything left had probably gone off already but… He got up, searching through them for anything edible anyway and eventually found a couple of breakfast bars squirrelled away at the back of a drawer. It was better than nothing so after checking the dates, he started eating them. Alex was paying attention to what he was doing, a squirming guilt rising from him. 'What?' 'That's…not going to be enough.' Desmond stopped chewing and looked at the wrapper suspiciously. He knew that, but the way Alex had said it… Desmond was becoming aware that his hunger was familiar, not from Alex's memories, but from his own. When – right, when he'd been ill. … Stifling a groan, Desmond screwed his eyes shut, rubbing the bridge of his nose. 'Was it because of you I suddenly started eating my own weight in meat?' A small nod. 'Great. That's just…great.' And Desmond could feel Alex was right, his stomach still demanding food at the same volume it had before he'd eaten. 'That's going to happen every time I use the tendrils?' 'Yeah.' He let out a loud sigh. He should have expected that, really, but so long as he didn't start wanting to eat something while it was still alive, Desmond was fairly sure he could deal with it. Desmond was able to finish the rest of the bars in peace and they were silent for a few minutes. It was while Shaun swore at the traffic under his breath, Rebecca making sure that they weren't being followed, Alex started grumbling, restless. 'We'll be there soon,' Desmond tried to reassure him. Alex gave off an impression of making a grimace. 'We're moving too slowly.' 'Only because you're used to taking the more direct route.' A snort. 'Like I said: we're moving too slowly.' Desmond spread his hands. 'Well, if you want, I can get out and we'll be at the safehouse way before the others.' He tried to keep his tone as innocent as possible, but there was no way Alex wouldn't have picked up he was teasing him. Glaring. Alex was definitely glaring at him. 'No. We're not leaving her alone.' More flickers, not of memory, but of imagined worries (if the van was in accident, if there were still Walkers or Hunters about, if the Assassins were found by Templars or Blackwatch or Gentek. What if he failed to protect her again?). 'So, all we can do is wait.' 'Fine.' While Alex continued to grumble after, it seemed more for something to do to pass the time and an attempt to not have his worry about Dana take over everything. Eventually, Alex started poking around his own memories to keep himself occupied; it wasn't long until Desmond heard a muffled groan. '? What's wrong?' 'I can't believe I went through this again.' 'Went through – oh.' Desmond could see Alex's memories and they shuffled so Desmond could see the parallels between what Alex had gone through the first time compared to this time. 'At least no-one was trying to kill you this time?' A snort. 'No; they're trying to kill you, which means indirectly killing me,' he added as an afterthought. Which was a weird way of thinking about it, and it made Desmond realise something. 'Since you're in me now, does that mean I'm invulnerable to most weapons?' That would be pretty handy. There was a small pause as Alex mulled it over. 'That would depend on how much of me is in you,' he said slowly. Alex's attention turned inward and Desmond had only a second to check on Dana again before he felt Alex's bewilderment. '? What is it?' 'Dammit,' was the near inaudible reply. That didn't sound good. 'Alex…?' For a couple of seconds, Alex didn't say anything, which really didn't help to ease anything. 'I stopped myself from replicating but there's still more than when I regained my memories,' Alex told him quietly. Desmond's breathing stuttered. Fuck. Alex had perfect control over himself; had something happened to affect that when Alex ended up in his body? 'I don't understand. I'm not replicating now - how did I start and stop without noticing?' There was a pause. 'The only time it could have happened is…' He trailed off, realisation sweeping away the rest of Alex's emotions. 'When you were using your abilities.' What? Desmond stared as the back of his hands darkened, twitching and rising into black strands with flashes of muted red beneath. Tendrils of biomass writhed in sympathy with the ever-tightening knot in his stomach, the slamming of his heart. Which, fuck, meant Blacklight was active right now. Desmond knew he had to calm down, that was the rational thing to do, but his body wasn't interested in logic, and panic continued to steal his breath, tighten his chest. He couldn't seem to stop once he'd started; Desmond's eyes were fixed on the multiplying black-and-red tendrils that were lifting off his hands, spreading towards his wrists and fingers, and one strand twitched aside to show something dull off-white that could only be bone- Alex's cool presence welled up, quelling the erratic tendrils of biomass with a practiced ease. Desmond's stomach hurt, his heart still beating wildly in his chest, and he felt colder than before but. No tendrils. No tendrils. That was all that mattered. He let out a shaky breath, bowing his head and resting his hands at the back of his neck, feeling every muscle quiver. Fucking hell, his life was so screwed up. He was going to have to monitor his emotions more closely now, so he wouldn't end up becoming completely infected. And Desmond couldn't stop his mind inanely comparing his situation with the Hulk's - except instead of worrying about turning green and destroying everything in sight, he had to worry about turning tentacle-y and eating everyone in sight. A strained laugh escaped his lips as he squeezed his eyes shut, trying to keep it together through sheer force of will. "You okay?" He waved a hand in Rebecca's direction, trying to appear as calm as he could, except his smile was weak, barely even there. "Just - found out I'm a bit more infected than we thought," he said, his voice a little hoarse. And he'd just kicked himself even further down the Infected scale. …Great. There was a sharp intake of breath and Desmond glanced up to see her staring at him. "Anything we should be worried about?" "No," he said instantly, shaking his head. He paused, focusing on Rebecca, double-checking. She gazed back at him, her eyebrows rising in question. He was still feeling hungry (actually, was he hungrier now?) but it was still directed towards food, not people. "No," he said firmly, relief flooding him. The way things were going though, he was going to end up more virus than human. He let out a long breath when Rebecca nodded, getting back to work on the laptop. His stomach was still churning, practically trying to eat itself, but it could have been so much worse. 'Hey, thanks for stopping…you know,' he told Alex subdued, but sincere. There was an uncomfortable silence. 'There wouldn't be anything to stop if I wasn't here,' Alex said quietly. Desmond closed his eyes, just breathing in and out. 'True,' he said slowly as he shrugged, leaning back again. 'Can we…talk about this later?' Because, really, he kinda needed time to sort through his thoughts and gut reactions to everything they'd found out within the last…two hours? Was that all? 'Hm,' Alex agreed. They lapsed into silence for the rest of journey. * Desmond's dad was waiting for them, unsurprisingly, when they finally reached the safehouse, but Desmond's eyebrows rose when he saw the Apple innocuously sitting next to him, glowing softly. It hadn't been there when he'd left and Desmond threw Rebecca a look; she merely grinned, waving as she passed to already start setting her laptop up again next to the Animus. He glanced down at Dana, his heart thudding in his chest. "Could you bring it to my room?" he said, trying to talk with a suddenly dry mouth. Being surrounded by strangers wouldn't be the best thing to wake up to. There was of course the problem of if something other than Dana waking up happened (and Alex snarled at the thought) but…no-one had been able to stop him last time. 'I will,' Alex promised grimly. That actually did make Desmond feel better slightly, and his lips lifted in a small smile as he brought Dana to his room, easing her onto his bed. He shook his head when his dad tried to hand him the Apple, gesturing awkwardly to the bed. The Apple had latched onto him as soon as he'd touched it last time so he wanted to make sure they were alone, just in case it happened again. Once his dad was gone, closing the door behind him, Desmond let out one long breath, half pacing his room, his eyes drawn to the Apple every time he passed it. So. The last time he had touched this, Lucy had died. Hopefully, this time, Dana would live. He eventually stopped and stood next to it, staring at it as he tried to steady his nerves, but it didn't do much. No consolations, thoughts or changing his breathing could make him take that first and final step towards the Apple. 'Desmond,' Alex said quietly after a few minutes had passed, 'do it.' Closing his eyes and swallowing, Desmond reached down and grasped it, feeling the cool metallic smoothness under his fingers. The reaction was instantaneous, the Apple lighting up, but Desmond couldn't see that, because there was something else in his head, a curious thing, and it trilled when it found Alex, pleased. What, why-? Whatever-it-was (Seriously? Was this the Apple?) lifted information from Desmond's mind, about Dana and what he wanted to happen and then Desmond found himself blinking away the spots in his eyesight, not having a clue what just happened. Except Dana was heaving a giant gasp, her eyes snapping open. 'Dana!' Desmond was sure he'd shouted that out loud too, and he didn't know whose emotions he was feeling at that particular moment, but they were worried. Dana skittered away as soon as she saw him though, and Alex drew back, hurt. Augh, dammit. Of course she wasn't going to recognise… "Dana, it's all right," Desmond said softly, holding a hand up. "I'm-" "Alex?" …Was the hoodie really that distinctive? She must have read something in her face, because she chuckled, the sound husky from disuse. "I know you can shapeshift, jeez; I picked it up listening to the Blackwatch chatter. Only you look at me like that." Both Desmond's and Alex's thoughts crashed to a halt. That wasn't – crap, maybe Alex had consumed him. "So, what'd I miss?" She was looking around curiously, trying to pull herself up into a sitting position at the same time. When Desmond tried to help her, she waved him away, rolling her eyes. She grabbed an unopened bottle of water from beside Desmond's bed and raised an eyebrow in question; Desmond had already nodded before he realised he'd done it. What had she missed? A lot. Desmond sighed, pushing his hood back so he could rub the back of his head, watching her as she drank. "Dana," he said softly, "I'm not Alex." As far as they were both aware. And there was the ripple of tendrils again; Desmond winced, backing away from her, ignoring the twist in his stomach as best as he could. Shit, he was really going to have to learn how to control his emotions quickly. Dana froze, staring at him. Which was better than screaming and running away, Desmond supposed. Or throwing the bottle at him. "Then who are you?" she demanded, attempting to scramble out of bed. "Desmond," he told her quickly. "Alex is…" Fuck. How much did Dana actually know? If she knew about Alex's shapeshifting, what else had she heard? Did she still think Alex had only been changed by the virus, or had she found out Alex was the virus? 'I don't think she would have treated me as her brother if she knew.' And Dana was glaring at him, waiting for him to finish. "Alex is what." They couldn't lie to her but telling the truth… "Randall initiated Operation Firebreak," –Dana's eyes widened at the name; so she knew about that too- "but Alex was able to get the nuke out over the sea and dump it there before it went off." He paused, his eyes sliding away as he waited for Dana's reaction. "Okaaay." Desmond glanced at her, and saw she was frowning. That was not the expression either of them had been expecting. She raised an eyebrow before bringing her knees to chin level, wrapping her arms around them. "I know my brother can take bullets to the face, okay?" she muttered. "They've used rocket launchers and tanks against him and he still came out fine. Just…tell me the truth: did he die doing that?" When Desmond didn't answer straight away, her lips became a thin line. "Look, whatever you think I don't know I probably do, so how about we lay our cards on the table and get this over with." Somehow, Desmond doubted it, but he nodded all the same, feeling Alex's uneasy acceptance as well. "What do you know about the connection between Alex and the virus?" he asked cautiously. He got a humourless smirk. "Nice try, but you first." '…Alex?' A weary sigh. 'She should know her brother died.' There was pain there, loss, and Desmond could feel Alex pull away and try to pay as little attention to what was going to happen as much as possible. He looked away, crossing his arms. "Alex stole a vial of the Blacklight virus from Gentek as a security measure when he found out he might be killed for being involved with the Blacklight project. He was caught in Penn Station where…" -Desmond swallowed- "he smashed the vial. He was shot there, killed." He took a breath, his hands tightening around his arms. "The virus entered his body and reanimated it, taking on his memories at the same time." He stopped, waiting for Dana to take on this information. "Good. So we're on the same page then." He snapped his head around to stare at her, and she gazed defiantly back. "That means you can tell me whether my brother died from the nuke or not, right?" Desmond was having a bit of a hard time trying to compute what just happened. So was Alex. "You – wait, you knew?" "Yeah. Wasn't sure if Alex knew but…" She shrugged. "I found out just before the Hunter grabbed me." Desmond continued to stare and then finally tried to gather his thoughts, shaking his head. '…She still sees me as…?' 'Yeah.' It still took him a bit of time to say something. "Alex didn't die, but he didn't exactly come back-" Fully? With his body? In his body? "-the way he expected." Dana eyed him critically for a second. "He came back as you?" "…We're still figuring that out." He was fairly sure he was actually Desmond, but who knew? He flexed his hand, feeling the familiar dig of the hidden blade. "All I know is Alex talks to me in my head, and I have the same abilities he has." Mostly. She breathed a relieved laugh, leaning back on the wall. "This is some fucked up world we live in." Desmond snorted, glancing at the Apple where it was resting near his foot. "You've got no argument from me." They both fell silent then, Dana playing absently with the bottle in her hands, a contemplative look in her eyes. While most of Alex's attention was on Dana (checking and rechecking that she was all right, both physically and about the situation), Desmond became aware of a vicious anticipation starting to grow from him. '? What are you thinking about?' He got the impression of a grin that was more baring of the teeth than anything else. 'Dana's here and she's all right; now we can concentrate on stopping the Templars.' Desmond blinked, realisation dawning in him. With his new abilities, maybe they had a chance of winning this war. ___ So I have some transiting head-canon that Alex either has TWCB genes or Blacklight/Redlight had some TWCB genes injected into it at some point. :3

#protocreed #prototype #Assassin's Creed #desmond miles #alex mercer #rebecca crane #shaun hastings #william miles #bradley ragland #dana mercer #fanfic

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