Prolog: The End

A/N: Hey there so I have been away from for a really long time. I have no one to blame but myself… my bad. So this is my first time writing Assassin's creed fanfiction so if I get things wrong sorry ^^' I hope to be updating every Monday but time will tell. I'm not sure yet but there might be yaoi in this depending on how things go. Hehe.

Happy reading!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the assassin's creed games they belong to UbiSoft in all there brilliant glory.

Pain. All-consuming, unbelievable pain! Starting from his hand and working its way up and over the rest of his body. It feels like he has put his hand in an open flame and left it there, he can feel the skin on his hand and arm as it starts boiling and burning, can feel the bones in his fingers fussing together with the intensity of the heat. The power of the sun, the solar flares, all focused on him, burning through him. All he can see is the image of Juno smiling cruelly down at him, becoming more solid, more real. The only thing that passes through his pain-filled mind is a never ending chant, 'Oh god oh god make it stop please make it stop-'

"AAAAAAHHHHHHHH!" the scream is ripped from his throat and no matter what he does he can't remove his hand from the globe in front of him. But it does not last long and then there is nothing. Only the soothing blackness, numbness that lets him rest at long last.

The feeling of weightlessness and calm is the only thing that he has ever known. The only thing that really matters, for he has no sense of self or being, only the soothing comfort of all eternity wrapped in the endless dark. In his peace.

'Why should I care? Here is safe, here nothing hurts.' He sees nothing and can feel nothing only a lingering awareness that he can't quite grasp.

'Something that I have forgotten perhaps?'

"Desmond." An accented voice says irately, causing said man to shutter as if he were cold. An image of a young red haired man wearing glasses, sitting in front of a computer screen with a scowl plastered on his face, flashes before his eyes. "Oh, what are you, a tiny child?" and just as quickly it's gone. Slipping through his fingers like sand through an hourglass.

'What was that? I don't-'

"Desmond." An overly cheerful female voice cuts across his thoughts. An image of a young raven haired girl with big headphones on slides into his mind. Sitting in front of the animus 2.0 looking exceedingly proud. "The Templars might have deeper pockets than us, but they've got no ambition, no passion, no competitive edge! That's why, even with all their resources, anything they can do I can do better. Faster, too." Then the vision shatters like glass before his eyes.

'Wait- wait am I…supposed to be Desmond?'

"Desmond." Dread fills him at the sound of this voice, dread and guilt. Unlike the others she walks out of the darkness, glowing brightly, chasing the darkness away, until she stands right in front of him. Blue eyes, blond hair tied in a bun, expression grim. "We're losing this war…"

"No, no, you're dead. I- fuck, I killed you I-" suddenly he knows he has a body, maybe he always did, as he tries to get away from the person in front of him. Only he can't, not really, because how do you hide from the dead? He can feel his legs give out on him, hitting the ground with a soft thump. Feels himself curl up, pressing his hands into his chest, lowering his head so he doesn't have to see. He's shaking like a leaf.

"I didn't… I love you and I-I… fuck. Please, I couldn't- please…" he sobs, it feels like someone is ripping his heart out and stitching it back in wrong. Everything aches.

A glowing foot comes into his field of vision, then a knee as she kneels down in front of him. He refuses to look up, shaking harder as wave after wave of emotions wash over him, things he hasn't felt since the darkness, since he thought he found his peace.

"Please, I'm so sorry." He whispers, whining in the back of his throat when she captures his chin and gently but firmly lifts his head up.

"It was not your fault Desmond." He shutters, closing his eyes and shaking his head, tears running down his face.

"How can you say that?" he asks.

"Desmond I forgive you, it wasn't your fault it was the Peace of Eden." She releases his chin and wraps her arms around him in a tight hug. Still he denies it because how can it not be his fault when it hurts so god damn much.

"Yes it is, yes it is, yes it is." He chants.

"No it's not, no it's not, no it's not." Lucy counters, somehow they're rocking back and forth, while she rubs soothing circles on his skin and he finds himself clinging.

He has no idea how long the two of them sit like that but slowly over time the rest of his memories come back to him. Many of them painful and some not even his at all. With every new memory he flinches because every memory is pushing him… pushing Desmond out of the dark and back in to the harsh unforgiving light. Finally the last piece comes and with it the end of his unstable condition. He pulls away from Lucy, just looking her over, a feeling of peace washing over him because now he knows that he's Desmond and he's dead.

A/N: Sooo good, bad, somewhere in that zone? Review and let me know! All flames will be used to bake dark-side cookies.