Desmond (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
moderndayassassin) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sixthiterationlogs2018-12-03 08:58 am
moderndayassassin) wrote in sixthiterationlogs2018-12-03 08:58 am
i'm done being a pawn
WHO: Desmond Miles
WHERE: Fountain; around the village,
WHEN: 12/3
OPEN TO: Anyone!
WARNINGS: Swearing for sure
WHERE: Fountain; around the village,
WHEN: 12/3
OPEN TO: Anyone!
WARNINGS: Swearing for sure
Fountain arrival; ota
His hand was going in slow motion as it reached for the key to saving humanity and releasing Juno. Despite knowing it was right, despite saying goodbye to the remaining people in his life, he was afraid as he took a deep breath and prepared for the end. His eyes closed ... and then suddenly he was opening his eyes surrounded by water. Desmond flailed, shocked and horrified, this was not the way he expected Juno to take him, and was he supposed to just wait until he drowned? No, this can't be right. His feet kicked and he broke the water into air, gasping and scrambling for the side of ... what the hell was this? His eyes hurt from the water and he dragged himself out, immediately shocked by the cold of the air around him. It hadn't been cold before, why was it cold?
Desmond shakily tried to stand but collapsed hard onto his knees, his hands catching his weight. He should be dead. Maybe he was dead. Or maybe this was something else. He sat back on his haunches, breathing unsteadily, and dropping this strange pack from his back to toss it aside. Who put that on him? Juno's face hazily appeared in his mind's eye, and his confusion turned into rage. Maybe he failed. Maybe this was Minerva, furious that he disobeyed. Frustrated, he did something very stupid and dove right back into the water, going as far as he could. He had to finish this. He couldn't thwart fate. He reached around of any sign of what to do, but it was dark and he sprang out of the water again, colder and more exhausted than before.
"Juno!" He yelled, searching the sky. "Minerva! Which one of you bitches did this?" Desmond spit out water, shaking from cold or shock. "Juno! Goddamnit."
Around the village the next few days, OTA
Desmond was unnerved by everything so far and deeply suspicious. It was an elaborate lie, it had to be. A trick. He went to the inn just because there was no where else to stop freezing and not starve as far as he could tell. He sat by himself in the furthest corner away from others, making certain nothing was at his back but the wall in case of stabbing. Occasionally he ventured up to the records there, reading it but skeptical.
Later on he can be seen in the bunker trying to make sense of what was down there and if his hacking had any use. He was wandering around the village, admittedly being a little creepy as he glanced at the houses and cased the joints. Eventually he claimed House 46 and sat outside, staring off into the distance, scowling.
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Lucy lowered her eyes to her torso, lifted her fingers to see the fresh red staining through the layers. “He’s going to kill me,” she muttered to herself, brows knitting. Connor was going to be so displeased that she’d pushed herself to this point when she should’ve been resting. She lifted her head and found Desmond there again, close, felt his hand at her arm ready to guide her, and she reached readily for him in return, trusting him, as the shift in balance was almost enough to make her feel as faint as he looked.
He was shaking, why? The sight of blood shouldn’t have been so distressing given all the time he’d put into the Animus. The things he’d seen.
The second apology came, the words broken, grief-stricken. She allowed him to guide her only so far before she was staring at him, puzzled and growing more and more concerned by the sight of tears. Was he...crying? “What’s...going on?” They only got so far when she stopped and grabbed at his arm, staring up at him.
Lucy was seeing him in a different light now. She saw him there but it wasn’t in this world, it was underground. It was darker. A black splash of light and symbols covered the air behind him. Her eyes searched his, moved over his face, the expression he wore. He was shrugged off then, the air leaving her lungs, like he’d driven his fist into her diaphragm. He had, in some way, the edge sharp, the cut clean and meant to—
“... no.”
That couldn’t have been right. He wouldn’t—
She began to back away, the horror of dawning realization now an expression she wore as clear as ever. Lucy felt sick. She could feel a fury creeping in for the pain she was in all because of him, a panic for what this meant. It was all too much at once that it was hard to make sense of just one thing. Was that what that meant, her last conscious memory being of him standing in front of her? “No.” Her breath hitched, came out shallow and quick. “No.” With all of her strength, whatever she had left, she took a sudden lunge forward to shove her hands roughly at his chest, to add a smear of her blood on his scrubs, uncaring of the slice of pain tearing at her side.
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He didn't stop her when she pushed him, stepping back with the movement instead and putting a little more distance between them. Her blood on his scrubs was a brand. All the death he'd seen and the death he'd caused, and he was pretty sure this was never coming off him, metaphorically. "I didn't want to," he started and then stopped. How can he explain? It was seconds to the outside world, but it felt like an hour for him. He didn't want to, but he did. "Juno took over my body. I fought her, fought so fucking hard, I didn't want ----" He could blame this on Juno. Desmond knew that. He could tell her that it wasn't his choice and it would be difficult, but it would give them both someone to hate instead of him. It might be kinder, to lie.
But everything came full circle eventually. He knew that much.
Desmond rubbed at his eyes, trying to swallow through the pain. "She showed me. That you were one of them." He was actually being very careful with a word like Templar, in case Connor came around. "I saw what your plan was. Subject 16, Clay, he knew too, but you know that. I got trapped in the Animus with him after." After he dramatically went into a comatose state from shock and possession. "She showed me what would happen if you betrayed us. Everyone would die. Only I could save the world, even if it meant I died too." Lucy couldn't have known that; no one knew it but Desmond, once he got his head on straight.
He swallowed and touched the blood on his scrubs. Fuck. What was his life? "So yeah. I killed you, and I killed myself, and if there was a way to do the second thing before the first thing and still save the world, I would've done it."
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Juno... "She couldn't have known." Hushed words. Her eyes were lowered to where his hand was touching his scrubs, the blood she'd left. "She couldn't have..." Then her eyes were back on his. "How could— You believed her?" It wasn't like Desmond could've asked her himself, if he'd been under a full body possession and had no control over his actions. But Lucy wasn't thinking about it like that.
Christ, he'd brought up Clay and that was like throwing salt into an already open wound, one she carried with her to bed every night, one that was constantly there, the Animus a bleak reminder. She'd tried so hard to not think about Subject 16, the promises she'd made to keep him safe, that she would see him out of Abstergo if he just helped her first. Lucy's hand pressed harder to her abdomen, the blood slowly creeping out along the teal material at the edge of her palm.
Then quietly, "I thought you would be different." There was a waver in those words; exhaustion, hurt, misery, the revelation, her fate. "But you're no better than him."
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There were few things that could sucker punch him better than comparing him to William Miles. And he knew exactly that's who she was talking about. His father the master manipulator, cold as ice, and the two of them were vastly different. Or maybe they weren't. Desmond felt the blow cut into hm, sharp and vicious, and he wanted to strike back, but she looked so defeated. And she was bleeding.
"We both let you down," he said quietly, agreeing. "I heard there's a hospital not far from here. It's by the inn." Desmond would've taken her himself, if he thought she wouldn't refuse just to spite him. "You need to go there, you're going to pass out if you don't." If she passed out, he'd carry her, but he can't offer to do that. He was physically keeping his distance so as not to scare her. "Just go get help, and you won't have to deal with me anymore. I'll stay out of your way." He had to make sure she would stay alive here, but after that, well, Desmond was great at running from his problems and shutting himself down.
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There were tears on her cheeks, she knew it but could barely feel them. She was broken, defeated, bleeding, and most of all, Lucy was numb. Still she lashed out. "Don't act like you fucking care, Desmond." It didn't matter that he'd slipped up moments ago, admitted that he'd fallen for her. "I don't need help, I'm fucking dead." It was such a shock to hear herself admit that. A swift breath was sucked in and she'd managed to hold back any kind of a sob wanting to escape, turning away from him.
Back onto the path she went, steps staggering briefly. She would follow it back across the water, back to where she lived. And Lucy hoped that he rotted in this Hell. That was all he deserved, as far as she was concerned.
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