Desmond felt groggy at first, and didn't remember much of what had happened, but after a quick briefing from the girls and a snide comment from Shaun, he soon freshened up enough to get the memories rolling in his head. They had arrived to Manhattan with their minivan - how they did was still a question without an answer - Rebecca went missing after heading to the store - they still hadn't gotten the groceries they needed, by the way - and then there was the distant sound of a grenade going off a few floors above. Desmond had went to investigate and found the creepy guy in the hallway. He still wondered where he had went and how he could be so quiet. It was all rather surreal. Then the radio. A brief conversation - or perhaps monologue was a better word - that had mentioned Rebecca's last name. Stupid as he was, he had headed out the door and scrambled over the rooftop like he was some goddamn superhero, and actually managed to find what he was looking for. In the haze of his anger, he'd knocked the first four unconscious, but made the grave mistake of trying to attack someone who'd already spotted him. The result was one dead commander and a wound from a dagger in his left side. He still didn't know if he'd been lucky or the marine had been an amateur. Desmond doubted the possibility that he'd been stabbed, then left to bleed out on the pavement. They couldn't possibly be that cruel. Could they?
His train of thought was interrupted by Lucy's scolding voice, "Now that you're up and about, would you care to share what the hell you were doing out there?". She was standing with her arms crossed over her chest in front of him, brows furrowed and lips curled in a frown. She was visibly pissed, and didn't show even an ounce of either concern or gratitude. Desmond scowled at this and opened his mouth to protest. Before he could form words though, she interrupted by more scolding, "You are the last person with a connection to Ezio. If you die out there, we have no way to access the genetic memories of your ancestor". This silenced Desmond, as he had no idea how to respond. What Lucy said was true, and he had nothing to counter with. Except...
"We need Rebecca to run the Animus. Or did she teach you how to set it up?" he said sternly. Now it was Lucy's turn to glare. She pressed her lips together into a thin line, and her bright blue eyes seemed to stare into his very soul. But he wouldn't back off. He knew he was right, just as much as she were. For a long moment, they glared at each other, but eventually Lucy growled and turned her back to him. She grumbled something under her breath, but Desmond wasn't interested in hearing it. He looked away when Rebecca walked up to the other girl, and they started whispering to each other. He pushed them out of his conscience and inhaled deeply. The pain was already throbbing in his side, but he didn't want to lay on a mattress all day. The effort would be a test of his pain threshold, no doubt. He braced himself, held his breath and pushed himself up on his feet. A groan slipped through gritted teeth and the room went for a spin, but he managed to keep standing until his vision cleared again. The pain was pounding in his side. Bad idea to get up before he was fully healed.
Now that he was back up on his feet he heard a loud rumble from the depth of his abdomen. Damn, he couldn't even remember the last time he ate. And Rebecca hadn't possibly gotten any groceries with her after getting hauled in by templars. Speaking about, he'd have to ask how she got away from them later on. Right now, the priority was to get food. If not... Lucy would most surely want him back inside the Animus. She always wanted him inside that godforsaken machine. Not a moment of calm and rest. Not even with a fucking bandage covering half of his torso would he be allowed to take a break. It was driving him sick how hellbent Lucy was on getting him to keep working. He hated it. He hoped she'd calmed down after his little rant last night, but apparently it hadn't been enough. Nothing was enough for that woman. Not him, not his actions, not his attempts to do something good. The only thing that seemed to be enough for her was Rebecca. Rebecca that he had tried to save. That he had searched for and gotten stabbed for. He had literally risked his life for her. And all Lucy could do was to glare and yell at him like he was some damn object for her to rage out on. Alright, he could see her point about him being the last in his bloodline, but was that really such a reason to call him out and hate him? Goddamn if he knew. They'd have to talk once she'd calmed down again. If she would.
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A New ManhattanFanfiction
Alex Mercer, amnesiac, is trying to find out what happened to him and what he has become since waking up in a morgue. Desmond Miles, suffering from post traumatic stress, needs to get over his fears in order to save the world. Will they find streng...