Virus in the Machine
May. 23rd, 2012 07:57 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
esp_dragonFandom: 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: Swearing, 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. Pretty much ignoring all of Prototype 2, apart from the one instance, and it's not plot relevant to P2. Also bumping Prototype to the year 2012.
Spaaaaawned bydogmatix. XDDD
Overuse of italics and ellipsis, gaaaaaaah. D: I'm sorry!
Genre: Friendship
Word count: 6,647
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 wasn't developing a cold 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 being 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 turned his attention to 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.
Shaun raised an eyebrow as Desmond helped himself to thirds. "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 cravings for meat and well, there were worse things to want to eat.
"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 safe house wasn't exactly on the big side – and it said a lot about their situation that a post-virus-stricken city was considered safe. And 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 the 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. Just something a little more mundane.
He continued having dinner, ignoring his worries.
* * *
"Aha!" Rebecca crowed, punching the air. "Got it!" She waved to Desmond before indicating the Animus. "Try 'er our 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. 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 files on the laptop, boredom and restlessness starting to make itself known to him. 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. Woah, 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. Just 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 that that happened? Had the Animus' glitching knocked some of his 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 lead him to the question of whether he should tell the others. He was talking to a voice in his head 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 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 that everything was normal, 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. 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 himself.
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."
He 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'd 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 a good sign, 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. 'You can go poke in my memories to pass the time – 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 of amusement someone had when they were sitting back and about to watch something very interesting.
…Desmond mustered his 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.
* * *
The next couple of days ran smoothly with no more hiccups from the Animus, though Alex's memory stayed stubbornly stuck. Either it was 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.
Strangely, even though Desmond was finally in a working Animus, 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.
'What do you think about seeing Manhattan for ten minutes once we're finished 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.
* * *
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 that 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 could soar above his enemies and land 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 could glimpse before the…tentacles had encompassed his view was far too 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, shock exploding through 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 it had killed him when Alex had released it, 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, his breath catching 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? Wouldn't that mean there was a ton of Infected running about right now, and how didn't the rest of the Assassins seem to be affected - 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 becoming 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 my cells 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 been 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 the 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. The others had been glad when they'd seen him approaching the exit; seemed like they thought he'd been cooped up for too long and were just waiting for him to explore.
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'd never stayed inside for so long,' Alex mused.
'Guess going outside'll be something 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.
A cautious shake of the head. 'I think…if you just have skin contact, that should be enough to get their DNA.' Sounded easy.
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 wearing a t-shirt and he hurried over.
He brushed the man's arm as they passed each other and just knew he'd been successful, making his way towards a deserted alley.
Ducking into a doorway, Desmond lifted his hand up and stared at it.
'Think of that guy you just touched,' Alex instructed.
He did and then there were tentacles writhing over his skin. When they settled back down, Desmond's skin was darker, his tattoo gone. He lifted a hand to his hair – longer and curlier. Okay. That had been kinda simple. Right, anyway, now to get moving.
Once Desmond was sure no-one was looking at him –and pulling up his hood for extra protection, to Alex's endless amusement- he jumped – and holy fucking shit he was suddenly several feet in the air, wind whipping through his hair. He landed fairly well, staying on his feet, not leaving a mark on the ground.
Alex snorted as Desmond jumped again, this time towards a building. 'You don't have enough mass to leave creators in the ground.'
Alex had been right about it being instinct; Desmond didn't know what happened but he was suddenly sprinting up the side of the building like he was still vertical. His hood slipped off and Desmond raised a hand to bring it back up, there was…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 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.'
Amusement was sent in his direction. 'No-one looks up.'
Desmond was going to trust that, seeing indistinct flickers of so many times Alex had been leaping over people's heads with the people 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 try 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.
'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.
'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?'
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 what he was doing so Desmond had an easier time.
Getting into Ragland's morgue wasn't that difficult and Desmond peered around cautiously, not seeing the doctor anywhere. No sign of Dana either.
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. "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 picked to point at. Desmond ignored Alex's snort. "As for proof – you two first met when he had been injected with an antivirus and you worked together to develop a cure for it. Consuming the right Hunter after injecting it with some of the antivirus was involved." Desmond wasn't sure if that was enough, but it wasn't as if he was lacking in memories to bring up.
Ragland 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.
'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.
"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.
"What are you doing at the hospital? Oh, wonderful, you got hit by a car and got taken into A&E, didn't you?"
"Hey!" Desmond protested. How did Shaun even know where he was? Did the earpiece have a tracker on it?
Wait.
Desmond stared as Ragland pulled Dana out, and she looked like she was only sleeping. 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 back on him.
'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!"
Okay, 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. "Can you bring the POE?"
Silence.
"…You know, if that'd come from anyone else, I would have expected them to be kidnapped."
Desmond winced. It did sound like that, didn't it?
'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're bringing it – and I really hope you have a good explanation for this."
He did, but the others weren't going to like it.
The sound cut off and Desmond realised he had been 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 it," 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 of if he was there, they have 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…" his dad said carefully, 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. "This isn't something we can discuss right now, is it?"
Desmond let out a breathless laugh. Talking about how he'd been infected by a sentient zombie-causing virus? "No, it's not."
"We'll be there as soon as we can."
It was another twenty minutes (maybe; Desmond hadn't been keeping that close an eye on the clock) before he was told that the others were waiting for him outside. Making sure he was in his own appearance (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 here if he needed anything.
Shaun's eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Desmond come out but he followed him into the back, closing the door behind 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 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 and his dad's reactions, but they weren't surprised, merely waiting.
Rebecca quirked an eyebrow at him. "We did the math: it took us under 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 other explanation is that you were infected by the Mercer virus." Shaun sighed, looking over Dana's comatose form. "And now we find you with the body of Mercer's sister…
"So," Shaun said, leaning back, his arms crossed. "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."
"Why didn't you tell us this?" his dad asked quietly from the driver's seat.
"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. "You want to use the POE to…" -Rebecca waved a hand- "help Dana?"
He nodded, his eyebrows drawing in. 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 that he had supposedly unleashed.
Rebecca shrugged, a wry smile on her face. "We're Assassins fighting against Templars who specialise in misdirection and misinformation; we're used to not believing what's publicly known."
Except Alex Mercer releasing the virus was true, but Desmond was going to keep that to himself.
"And we've spent days with you while you've been infected, right?" Shaun added. "We're already…" He trailed uncomfortably.
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 from that.'
"He doesn't think he can spread by the air – there needs to be contact and an open wound."
There were three simultaneous sighs of relief.
So. Desmond's eyes were drawn to the glowing form of the Apple as it rested on the table-top. Gently, Rebecca held it out for him, Desmond stared at it, not moving. The last time he had touched this, Lucy had died. Hopefully, this time, Dana would live. He raised his hand 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 rough from disuse. "I know you can shapeshift, jeez; I picked it up listening to the Blackwatch chatter."
Oh, this was going to be fun to explain…
'But she's back,' Alex said, relief singing from him.
Yeah, she was. "Listen, Dana," Desmond said, "there's stuff you don't know but we probably shouldn't talk about that right now."
Dana glanced at Rebecca and Shaun, then nodded slowly. Desmond's dad took that as a signal, and the van rumbled to life.
Desmond couldn't stop watching Dana as the van started moving, which he guessed was because of Alex, but he became aware of a vicious amusement 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. 'Heh. 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.
_____________________________________________
Have I mentioned that I adore writing dramatic irony? *grin*
Aaaaand after all my thinking about how the confrontation was going to play out… it happens off screen. *facepalm*
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
…Yeah, this is so not finished. XD;;;;
I'm wondering if I should make a 'shiny: bodyshare' tag at this rate. XD;; … Eh. *goes and adds it*
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: Swearing, 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. Pretty much ignoring all of Prototype 2, apart from the one instance, and it's not plot relevant to P2. Also bumping Prototype to the year 2012.
Spaaaaawned by
dogmatix. XDDDOveruse of italics and ellipsis, gaaaaaaah. D: I'm sorry!
Genre: Friendship
Word count: 6,647
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 wasn't developing a cold 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 being 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 turned his attention to 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.
Shaun raised an eyebrow as Desmond helped himself to thirds. "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 cravings for meat and well, there were worse things to want to eat.
"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 safe house wasn't exactly on the big side – and it said a lot about their situation that a post-virus-stricken city was considered safe. And 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 the 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. Just something a little more mundane.
He continued having dinner, ignoring his worries.
"Aha!" Rebecca crowed, punching the air. "Got it!" She waved to Desmond before indicating the Animus. "Try 'er our 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. 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 files on the laptop, boredom and restlessness starting to make itself known to him. 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. Woah, 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. Just 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 that that happened? Had the Animus' glitching knocked some of his 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 lead him to the question of whether he should tell the others. He was talking to a voice in his head 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 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 that everything was normal, 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. 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 himself.
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."
He 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'd 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 a good sign, 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. 'You can go poke in my memories to pass the time – 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 of amusement someone had when they were sitting back and about to watch something very interesting.
…Desmond mustered his 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.
The next couple of days ran smoothly with no more hiccups from the Animus, though Alex's memory stayed stubbornly stuck. Either it was 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.
Strangely, even though Desmond was finally in a working Animus, 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.
'What do you think about seeing Manhattan for ten minutes once we're finished 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.
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 that 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 could soar above his enemies and land 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 could glimpse before the…tentacles had encompassed his view was far too 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, shock exploding through 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 it had killed him when Alex had released it, 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, his breath catching 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? Wouldn't that mean there was a ton of Infected running about right now, and how didn't the rest of the Assassins seem to be affected - 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 becoming 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 my cells 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 been 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 the 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. The others had been glad when they'd seen him approaching the exit; seemed like they thought he'd been cooped up for too long and were just waiting for him to explore.
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'd never stayed inside for so long,' Alex mused.
'Guess going outside'll be something 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.
A cautious shake of the head. 'I think…if you just have skin contact, that should be enough to get their DNA.' Sounded easy.
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 wearing a t-shirt and he hurried over.
He brushed the man's arm as they passed each other and just knew he'd been successful, making his way towards a deserted alley.
Ducking into a doorway, Desmond lifted his hand up and stared at it.
'Think of that guy you just touched,' Alex instructed.
He did and then there were tentacles writhing over his skin. When they settled back down, Desmond's skin was darker, his tattoo gone. He lifted a hand to his hair – longer and curlier. Okay. That had been kinda simple. Right, anyway, now to get moving.
Once Desmond was sure no-one was looking at him –and pulling up his hood for extra protection, to Alex's endless amusement- he jumped – and holy fucking shit he was suddenly several feet in the air, wind whipping through his hair. He landed fairly well, staying on his feet, not leaving a mark on the ground.
Alex snorted as Desmond jumped again, this time towards a building. 'You don't have enough mass to leave creators in the ground.'
Alex had been right about it being instinct; Desmond didn't know what happened but he was suddenly sprinting up the side of the building like he was still vertical. His hood slipped off and Desmond raised a hand to bring it back up, there was…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 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.'
Amusement was sent in his direction. 'No-one looks up.'
Desmond was going to trust that, seeing indistinct flickers of so many times Alex had been leaping over people's heads with the people 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 try 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.
'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.
'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?'
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 what he was doing so Desmond had an easier time.
Getting into Ragland's morgue wasn't that difficult and Desmond peered around cautiously, not seeing the doctor anywhere. No sign of Dana either.
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. "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 picked to point at. Desmond ignored Alex's snort. "As for proof – you two first met when he had been injected with an antivirus and you worked together to develop a cure for it. Consuming the right Hunter after injecting it with some of the antivirus was involved." Desmond wasn't sure if that was enough, but it wasn't as if he was lacking in memories to bring up.
Ragland 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.
'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.
"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.
"What are you doing at the hospital? Oh, wonderful, you got hit by a car and got taken into A&E, didn't you?"
"Hey!" Desmond protested. How did Shaun even know where he was? Did the earpiece have a tracker on it?
Wait.
Desmond stared as Ragland pulled Dana out, and she looked like she was only sleeping. 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 back on him.
'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!"
Okay, 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. "Can you bring the POE?"
Silence.
"…You know, if that'd come from anyone else, I would have expected them to be kidnapped."
Desmond winced. It did sound like that, didn't it?
'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're bringing it – and I really hope you have a good explanation for this."
He did, but the others weren't going to like it.
The sound cut off and Desmond realised he had been 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 it," 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 of if he was there, they have 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…" his dad said carefully, 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. "This isn't something we can discuss right now, is it?"
Desmond let out a breathless laugh. Talking about how he'd been infected by a sentient zombie-causing virus? "No, it's not."
"We'll be there as soon as we can."
It was another twenty minutes (maybe; Desmond hadn't been keeping that close an eye on the clock) before he was told that the others were waiting for him outside. Making sure he was in his own appearance (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 here if he needed anything.
Shaun's eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Desmond come out but he followed him into the back, closing the door behind 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 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 and his dad's reactions, but they weren't surprised, merely waiting.
Rebecca quirked an eyebrow at him. "We did the math: it took us under 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 other explanation is that you were infected by the Mercer virus." Shaun sighed, looking over Dana's comatose form. "And now we find you with the body of Mercer's sister…
"So," Shaun said, leaning back, his arms crossed. "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."
"Why didn't you tell us this?" his dad asked quietly from the driver's seat.
"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. "You want to use the POE to…" -Rebecca waved a hand- "help Dana?"
He nodded, his eyebrows drawing in. 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 that he had supposedly unleashed.
Rebecca shrugged, a wry smile on her face. "We're Assassins fighting against Templars who specialise in misdirection and misinformation; we're used to not believing what's publicly known."
Except Alex Mercer releasing the virus was true, but Desmond was going to keep that to himself.
"And we've spent days with you while you've been infected, right?" Shaun added. "We're already…" He trailed uncomfortably.
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 from that.'
"He doesn't think he can spread by the air – there needs to be contact and an open wound."
There were three simultaneous sighs of relief.
So. Desmond's eyes were drawn to the glowing form of the Apple as it rested on the table-top. Gently, Rebecca held it out for him, Desmond stared at it, not moving. The last time he had touched this, Lucy had died. Hopefully, this time, Dana would live. He raised his hand 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 rough from disuse. "I know you can shapeshift, jeez; I picked it up listening to the Blackwatch chatter."
Oh, this was going to be fun to explain…
'But she's back,' Alex said, relief singing from him.
Yeah, she was. "Listen, Dana," Desmond said, "there's stuff you don't know but we probably shouldn't talk about that right now."
Dana glanced at Rebecca and Shaun, then nodded slowly. Desmond's dad took that as a signal, and the van rumbled to life.
Desmond couldn't stop watching Dana as the van started moving, which he guessed was because of Alex, but he became aware of a vicious amusement 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. 'Heh. 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.
Have I mentioned that I adore writing dramatic irony? *grin*
Aaaaand after all my thinking about how the confrontation was going to play out… it happens off screen. *facepalm*
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
…Yeah, this is so not finished. XD;;;;
I'm wondering if I should make a 'shiny: bodyshare' tag at this rate. XD;; … Eh. *goes and adds it*
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Date: May. 24th, 2012 06:13 am (UTC)C&C: Hmmm, I dunno if the other Assassins would be willing to bring the Apple out to Desmond. I suspect they'd bring Des back to base rather than bring the Apple out into a potentially dangerous non-secured area. And possibly ony one (or max two) of them would show up to fetch Desmond, so that at least one person could stay with the Apple. I suspect Shaun probably could put the pieces together into a 'Desmond is infected' theory and the incredible speed was strong evidence that something weird was going on.
If Desmond is going to start talking to himself in the middle of the morgue while Ragland is still present, he should probably give Ragland a heads up that he's talking to someone on the other end of a line of communication, as opposed to randomly talking to thin air. =P
Maybe have Dana wake up and have her reunion with Alex/meet Des without an audience? They could just be keeping quiet, but that shapeshifting thing, I'd epxect a lot more interest in that.
He froze. "How did-?" Right – it had been Shaun who had given him the files in the first place
Files? What files?
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Date: May. 24th, 2012 06:43 am (UTC)omg ALL THAT SNARK. XDDD So wasn't expecting that.
XD;;;; I did have the reasoning that since all the Assassins were tumbling out to make sure Desmond didn't get picked up by Templars, leaving the Apple by itself in the safe house would be a bad idea, but yeeeah, having someone staying behind in case they're contacted or something would make a whole lot more sense. XD;
And in my head I'd had a line about Desmond lifting a hand to press a button on the earpiece to talk back to Shaun, but that obviously didn't get put down and that probably still wouldn't be enough. *facepalm*
*nods* Yeah, that would make more sense. (All these hanging threads, noo. XD;;;)
The Manhattan files that Desmond had been reading earlier, whoops. XD;;
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Date: May. 24th, 2012 06:54 am (UTC)Lifting a hand to press a button would be almost enough. I think all it needs past that is maybe Desmond going "Oh hey Shaun ^^;;;" and maybe to Ragland "I just need to take this" or something to that effect.
Hanging threads are the bane of a writer's existance. XD And Alex/Desmond might also want to fill Dana in on what's happened since she was kidnapped, because boy has she missed a bunch of stuff. Doesn't have to happen onscreen or anything, but she's probably wondering what happened with Greene etc.
Ohhhh, those. X3