Assassination's Note: Honestly, I never thought this would finally get finished because I kept second guessing the whole first part of it. But here we are! The story continues.

There was a tense silence that blanketed the room as Desmond stared at Malik with his mouth gaped open. 'everything.' He had to tell Malik everything that he'd been keeping under a tight lid. For very good reasons, may he point out, because who knows what would happen if Desmond did lay out all his cards on the table.

However, the look he was getting brooked no argument.

He couldn't weasel his way out of this nor could he dodge it by wording everything vaguely. It was a dangerous game he was playing now, all because he didn't want to lose his only ally and shelter. In other words: he was utterly and royally screwed.

Desmond swallowed the lump in his throat as he took a step back, distancing himself from the expectant look and to get his bearings. "Where...where should I start?" His voice was soft, hesitant, and was more or less speaking for himself than as a genuine question. "I..."

Desmond lowered his gaze to his hands, noticing with the briefest twinge of disgust that they were shaking. Honest to God shaking. He shook his hands before curling them into fists and locked his eyes onto Malik's.

"I want you to know that I wasn't lying about where I'm from. I never lied about that or anything I told you after either." He bit the inside of his cheek as he shifted, nerves making him restless. "I'm not an assassin, but I never lied to you about anything else. Just...I lived a pretty normal life until six months ago."

He took a deep breath before telling Malik of how he'd been at work, like it was just another day, about how Abstergo came storming into the bar and dragged him away from his normal life. Laid out the conversation he'd had with Vidic and threat that was issued if he refused to cooperate, but glazed over the reason of why aside from, "They just wanted another lab rat, I guess." Though Desmond could see Malik's expression darken as he continued to tell him all he knew and what he'd been dealing with.

It was a look of horror mixed with unbridled rage. The murderous kind of rage that thirst to spill the blood of those that had caused such pain and suffering to one someone cares for. It was the type of anger that Desmond knew he'd never want to be on the receiving end of.

"So, when you asked if someone forced me to do something..." He shrugged. "Well, that's it."

"'that's it?'" Malik flicked his wrist with a sneer. "'that's it?' Is that all you have to say?"

Desmond jerked and blinked. "Wha- y...yeah. I mean, what else is there to say -"

"Dezmund, they threatened to sedate you and would have inevitably killed you! How can you speak of it so casually?!"

"There wasn't anything I could do, Malik!" He rubbed his face and sucked in a breath. "There was nothing I could do. I was just a normal person that got dragged off into some fucked up version of Hell. What I knew then wouldn't have been able to help me get away. They had trained professionals and they would've killed me if I tried to resist." Desmond dropped his hands and gnawed on his lower lip. "Since asking you to help me train, I know more now than I did then. I can...I can protect myself better." He gave a bitter laugh. "Or I'm just being delusional."

Malik didn't say anything for the longest time and Desmond avoided looking at him. Least he find out Malik couldn't swallow the truth and instead decided to look at Desmond like he's nothing more than a pile of horse shit on the street. If he did then Desmond wasn't sure he could handle it. At least, not without swearing up and down and getting angry because no one believed his story.

Bile edged at the back of his throat when he caught sight of Malik's robe move away from the desk. His ears strained to try and find out just where Malik was going.

The back room to throw Desmond's clothes in his face?

The weapon rack to run him through and keep the Creed's secrets exactly that?

Outside to turn Desmond over to the guards? Use him as a scapegoat for all of Altair's deeds and clear his name?

He was so focused on all these terrible outcomes that he jumped when there was a 'clunk' just in front of him. Lifting his head, Desmond's eyes widened once he saw a bottle of wine on the desk and that Malik was opening it with renowned determination. Almost like he had to get it open before he gave Desmond his sentence.

With a rough swallow, Desmond took a step toward the desk and held out his hand. "I can get that open if you're having trouble."

Malik paused before he looked between Desmond and the bottle. His knuckles were white from how tight his grip had become since he grabbed it. "Yes. I could...use a little help." He passed it to Desmond and watched him as he got it open.

His posture was stiff, almost as if he's going to make a break for the exit at any moment. His fingers would slip, messing up one simple task. Unsteady and scared. Hyperfocused but trying to seem like whatever choice that's about to be made won't have him breakdown.

He could tell just from those ticks alone that Desmond had already decided that Malik was going to turn him away. Force him to leave and survive in a world he doesn't know much about. Desmond, all alone and lost, trying to make ends meet in a place he doesn't belong. Yet, despite everything, he's giving off the signs of a man resigned to his fate and is just waiting for the other shoe to drop.

This is what he has been afraid of since the very beginning.

Malik reached across the desk and placed it over Desmond's hand while trying not to show his displeasure in such a small act making Desmond almost jerk away. As if he was expecting Malik to hurt him. Or, maybe, he hadn't expected Malik to touch him so casually after the revelation of Desmond having secrets that he kept close to his chest.

"Dezmund."

There was a tick in Desmond's jaw and he was looking anywhere that wasn't Malik.

"Dezmund."

He saw a crack form, Desmond's wall crumbling and revealing the fear laying beneath.

"Look at me." Malik pressed his side against the desk to give himself more room to reach and he grabbed Desmond's wrist. The pulse under his fingertips fluttering and he could feel the tremors running though Desmond. "Look at me, Dezmund."

Desmond kept his eyes lowered, unable to bring himself to look at anything but Malik's hand. "Malik, if you're going to kick me out, just do it already. I know what I did was...is horrible. Unforgivable. But I just want you to know I'm..." He squeezed his eyes shut and rose his hand to cover his mouth. "I'm so sorry."

Malik's eyes widened after seeing the tremors take control and Desmond's hold on the bottle loosening to the point it started slipping. Releasing Desmond, he caught the bottle and set it on the counter before reaching out to grab Desmond's arm to stable him. The jerk had Desmond open his eyes and stare across the desk to Malik, blinking a few times to remove the sudden sting.

"You sound like a man that has resigned himself to the gallows. Cease such and breathe." He tightened his hold and shook Desmond. "Dezmund, you are letting your mind run wild and need to breathe before you can't any longer."

"But - but you're -"

"Cease." Malik narrowed his eyes and slowly let go of Desmond's arm. "You still need to tell me the rest of your story, after all. We will see where we go once you are finished." He gestured to the bottle with a raised brow. "That is what this is for as well. If some of it is painful, do not hold back. I know I will be needing some as well."

Desmond pressed his hand on the desk and looked toward the wine as he took in a deep breath.

He could smell ink, spices and faint traces of the wine.

He could see in color and could see that Malik had taken the bottle to hand it over.

He had a story to tell and had the smallest glimmer of hope that things would work out for the best.

Desmond took another deep breath and took the offered wine to take a swig.

Abbas sat astride his steed and held the reigns in one hand as he sheathed his sword. He cast a brief glance over the guards that had charged at his horse earlier, with little to no provocation at best. He scoffed and urged the beast to turn around to head back in Jerusalem's direction.

If only he hadn't been preoccupied with the guards, then he would've been that much closer. Not only that, but then he could recuperate in Malik's bureau before beginning his investigation. He was still unsure as to why Al Mualim chose him for this task, but Abbas was glad that the damned 'attack dog' hadn't been granted the luxury. However, to think that he would be picked to do an all important mission.

Abbas felt a smirk tug at the corner of his lip as Jerusalem came into view and he spurred his steed on.

He couldn't help but notice how the guards surrounded the entrance like they were expecting someone to try to enter the city. It didn't take long to figure out that they'd become hypervigilant after the last assassination Altair had likely done the last time he'd visited. Probably done as recklessly as his storming Robert in Solomon's Temple, no doubt. Having overheard Malik regal that tale personally, Abbas had no qualms to thinking that Altair had barely changed since he'd been stripped of his status. After all, one mistake's consequences did not mean that a person would learn the first time they're punished.

That and seeing Altair crawl on the ground like a sniveling rodent was the most beautiful thing Abbas had ever witnessed.

Abbas clicked his tongue as he pulled the reigns back, urging his steed to a stop before the gates. He hopped off and wound them around his hand a couple times before leading the horse to the stable. He ran his hand over its mane as he tied the reigns to the stable and gave its neck a pat before making his way into the city.

The guards didn't bother him as he ventured in, but Abbas kept his head down regardless as to not raise suspicion.

He only risked lifting his head once he was a few feet away from them and pushed his hood off his head. His eyes ran over the landscape, checking to see if anyone was going to attempt to deter him from his mission. Namely, those damned beggars.

Abbas turned after a moment and wandered down an alleyway, slowly making his way toward the bureau.

"Tell me more of this...'Abstergo.'"

Desmond bit his lip and looked down at his hands. He was almost certain he'd been breaking all the protocols that came with time travel, but Malik told him not to lie and he's all Desmond had here. Even if he tried to skirt the topic, Malik would get this look on his face. Like he knew all of Desmond's ticks. When he's sad, when he's getting excited about something...

When he's lying or trying to.

Desmond dropped his face into his hands and mumbled, "I'm screwing everything up by telling you all of this..."

Malik sat across from Desmond on the mound of pillows, both of them having relocated when Desmond's legs almost gave out a second time. All from Malik's urging and Desmond gratefully taking it.

"I highly doubt it." Malik tipped his head back to peer out the rooftop entrance. "If anything, we could possibly prevent them from establishing early. Prevent what happened to you to happen to anyone else they dare to hurt."

"Look, Malik." Desmond lowered his hands and furrowed his brows. "This is against basically everything scientists -" He waved a hand dismissively at the look he got. "I'll tell you about them later. Anyway, this is against everything in the 'do not do' list." Desmond shook his head and raked his fingers through his hair. "I don't know how to explain it. Abstergo was supposed to be a pharmaceutical facility. To better everyone's lives. Instead, I find out they're all fucking nutcases and doing fucked up shit."

Malik dipped his head down and tucked his thumb under his chin. "But you were chosen for a reason."

"Yeah." Desmond scowled and threw a hand up. "That's the messed up part and that's how I found out that I'm, somehow, related to an assassin. Far as I knew, my whole family was just a bunch of farmers."

"...this is troublesome."

Desmond blinked and twisted around to look at Malik. He noticed how his brow was scrunched up, his eyes steeling over and jaw set. How he was deep in thought and was bothered with what he may be coming to for a conclusion.

"Malik?"

Malik glanced over to Desmond as he lowered his hand as he parted his lips to speak, but stopped and tensed as he whipped his head toward the roof. "Dezmund, hurry. Go into my room."

"What? But -"

He stood and grabbed onto Desmond's arm, the grip tight and demanding, before tugging him up off the ground. "Go. Now." Malik gave Desmond a shove in the direction of his room and Desmond stumbled as he tried to catch his footing. "Hurry."

Confused, Desmond slowly nodded before turning and rushing to get into Malik's room. The curtain billowed for a brief moment once he slipped inside and the presence Malik had noticed made itself known. Abbas slipped into the bureau without a word and turned as he dusted himself off.

"Greetings, brother. I pray I did not come at a bad time." he offered.

Malik tisked and bent down to pick up the bottle he'd set aside after they'd drunk a good portion of it. "Worry not. I did not have any plans for the day anyway." He walked into the room over once he stood up. "How may I be of service, Abbas?"

Abbas followed after him, glancing around the room as he did so. "I simply ask for lodging for the next couple of nights. The Grand Master asked me to look into a possible disturbance in your district."

Malik set the wine down on the table and rose a brow. "And why have I yet to hear of this until now?"

"Peace, Malik." Abbas held up his hands. "I do not wish to start a fight. I am simply doing as the Grand Master has asked of me." He pivoted to the side and side-eyed the bottle after a few beats. "I see that today has not been well for you."

"It has been...trying. Today is a little harder than others."

Abbas nodded, slow and understanding. "I know it must still be hard. Having your only family taken from you so suddenly and before your own eyes."

Malik's jaw ticked. "Yes. It is." He released his hold on the bottle and placed it on the desk. "Now, brother, tell me of this disturbance the Grand Master speaks of. Perhaps I may be able to help find a place to start."

"Ah, yes. He has only informed me that something has changed here and that it may not be for the best. Though I doubt he speaks of the guards, as they have always been that way." He made a vague gesture to the outside. "Rather short tempered and simple minded."

"Of course. However, since the last leader has been assassinated, things have been difficult here." Malik rubbed his chin, making sure to keep his gaze from wandering to where Desmond had hid. Since hearing everything Desmond said, he has no doubt that he is the 'problem' Al Mualim speaks of. "Perhaps you should take to the square. Listen in on what they are saying, as it is the best place to hear what has changed in Jerusalem."

Abbas nodded, turning to leave the bureau but stopped once he reached the doorway. "If I may, brother...?"

"What is it?"

He glanced over his shoulder. "Before my arrival, were you talking to someone?"

Malik's eyes hardened for a moment before he closed them and made a dismissive gesture. "You are hearing things, Abbas. Now go and return when you're ready."

"Ah...of course. My apologies, brother. Thank you for your help."

He then made his leave and Desmond took that moment to poke his head out with a worried look. "Malik...you don't think..." Desmond stopped and tightened his hold on the curtain as he lowered his gaze to the floor. "You don't think he was talking about me, do you?"

Malik sighed and rubbed his temple. "I do not know, Dezmund, but we must be more careful from here on out."