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Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again	By : Imoshen Category: +A through F > Assassin's Creed Views: 3972 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin's Creed nor do I make money by publishing this story.

Chapter List
- 1-Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again
- 2-Part 2
- 3-Part 3
- 4-Part 4
- 5-Part 5
- 6-Part 6
- 7-Part 7
- 8-Part 8
- 9-Part 9
- 10-Part 10
- 11-Part 11
- 12-Part 12
- 13-Part 13
- 14-Part 14
- 15-Part 15
- 16-Part 16
- 17-Part 17
- 18-Part 18
- 19-Part 19
- 20-Part 20
- 13
- 14
- 15
“Take it. He won't need it anymore”, Malik told him and held out the coat for Altair to grab. It was still raining and he only wore thin white pants with a white t-shirt and the fabric was clinging to his body like a second skin by now – not to mention he was freezing and his lips already turned blue from the cold. He nodded slowly and took the dirty fabric, the man Malik had taken it from laying dead in the alley. A homeless, and the coat smelled just like it but Altair didn't mind and just put it around his shoulders. The sleeves were too long just as the rest of it was too big but it did the trick and warmed him at least a little though it was still wet. Malik still wore what he'd been wearing all day, black shoes, business pants and a white shirt with a tie, soaked as well but he wasn't as cold as Altair.

Altair himself felt tired, confused and as if somebody had pulled out his brain and stuffed it upside down back in. He had no idea how much time he'd spent in that machine, didn't know how much they have seen but at least he was free – for now. “They were wrong, weren't they?” Malik stood up again, licking over his lips as rain run down his cheeks, dripping off his nose.

It took Altair a moment to process the words. He had a terrible headache, his throat was dry and he felt dizzy plus his ancient memories were so strong that it was difficult for him to stay in the present. “Wrong about what?”, he asked softly and his voice sounded just as tired as how he really felt.

“About remembering the modern world.” Malik actually smiled a little. “About remembering this time.”

Altair shrugged with his shoulders and pulled the hood up, his face falling into deep shadows. “'course I remember”, he muttered softly, wiping his face with one hand. “I was confused at first though but... yeah I remember”, he sighed and looked at Malik. “I remember everything, I remember everything from jumping down Masyaf's walls to waking up this morning and going to work.” He looked lost for a small moment before he turned his gaze back on Malik who was leaning heavily against a wall, arms crossed in front of his chest. “And what's with you? Did they put you in that... thing as well?”

“No”, Malik shook his head. All it really took for him to remember was to hear Altair's voice, to see his face, smell his scent and not just his memories returned but also the forbidden fruits of his desire.... He didn't say it and kept silent instead. He sighed deeply and pushed himself off the wall. “We need to get out of the rain... we need to find a place to stay.”

“We leave the city. I know a small motel just outside the city's limits. Looks like shit and I think the only people staying there are rent boys and drug dealers.”

Malik nodded and nudged the dead man's leg with his foot.

“Check his pockets. Maybe he has some money on him”, Malik noted at the homeless and his nose wrinkled up with mild disgust – the body was already rotting, the foul scent of something sweet and sour invading his nostrils; he'd been probably dead for a couple of days. Altair leaned towards and turned the man around and on his back, feeling inside his pockets. They were empty and he thought for a minute. “Give me his shoes”, Altair nodded at Malik and he crouched down, pulling the boots right off only to let them fall a second later.

“Shit, no. You don't want to wear his boots”, he said and Altair looked up and over Malik's shoulder. Oh. Yes, no he didn't want to wear his shoes that seemed to be right. Apparently the man got an infected toe at some point, didn't treat it until it got so bad that maggots were wiggling inside the wound eating their way through his flesh, through bones and skin. “Fuck it”, he said and grabbed the boots, shaking them and reached with his fingers inside, cleaning them out as good as possible. He found something else besides maggots inside them and pulled out the bills he was looking for, putting the money back into his own pockets before he put on the shoes.

“Let's get a cab then”, he told Malik and walked past him, the man following Altair suit and out into the streets.

It didn't take long for them to get a cab to stop – it took by far longer finding someone actually driving them. Altair smelled disgusting and Malik had to breath through his mouth to keep himself from gagging. In the end they finally found somebody, an elderly man, a Russian from how his accent sounded who agreed to drive them for some extra money. Altair just shoved some of the dirty bills into his hands and told him to keep the change. They drove in silence, Altair watching the bright lights from the city rushing by the window, the night the darkest just before dawn. His mind was traveling just as fast as the car was speeding along the streets and it brought him back to Masyaf and Al Mualim, back to his childhood, his real childhood, the memory of his father's death tasting bitter on his tongue, the picture of blood covering the grounds with his head laying next to his body filling his vision. When he looked back down on his hands again he saw the wrecked car of his parents turned over on the Autobahn, the piece of flesh sticking out from beneath the debris, a piece of flesh which had once been a hand. He muttered soft words to himself, humming an old melody he'd thought he'd forgotten. Altair felt Malik's eyes on him, watching him as he sung softly to himself but he ignored the man and closed his eyes instead.

They didn't speak a word until they reached the motel, the both of them stepping out of the car. Altair waited as Malik went inside, renting them a room and returning only a few moments later, leading Altair to a door with the number 13 on it. He pushed the key into the lock and the door jumped open, a foul smell greeting them. “Get inside”, Malik urged him and switched on the lights.

Altair sat down on the bed and he really didn't care about the stains on the sheets or the wallpaper coming lose or the fact that the air was really moist and sticky. He thought he heard water running somewhere from behind the walls and looked up when he heard feet shuffling over the floor, Malik sitting down next to him.

“This is a dream, isn't it?”, Malik muttered softly and Altair understood all too well. He was confused himself, terrible so. He felt foreign in his own skin, he felt like an invader to his own mind. This was him, Altair, the guy who tried saving money to go back to school, who never stayed for too long at one place because he'd moved so much during his childhood he didn't know how it felt to be at home. This was him, Altair, an assassin who became Grandmaster before the age of thirty, who had watched the woman and man he loved die, killed by the enemy, who'd lost his son to betrayal. He felt miserable when he thought back to his past life, felt miserable at how much sense everything suddenly made.

“It's a nightmare”, Altair answered him and he looked sideways, watching Malik from the corner of his eye. While Malik's presence offered him comfort it also freaked him the fuck out. He slumped a little and leaned close to Malik, his head resting on the man's shoulder. “Just let me sleep”, he told Malik as he knew the man had other plans with him. “No”, Malik shook his head and Altair sighed because he'd known the answer long before. Malik shifted his weight, scooting further away from Altair which caused him to lose his balance and he dropped down onto the bed, his cheek hitting the sheets. They smelled like piss and he shot up again. “Why did you do that?”, he asked Malik, scrunching his nose.

“Don't act like an idiot”, Malik simply told him. “And for god's sake, will you please take off that coat and shoes? I swear I'm going to throw up if you don't.” This – this was the Malik he remembered, the one he grew up in Masyaf with. His tongue and mind sharp, his words like venom. He wondered if Malik felt the same as he did – two minds being crushed together to become one.

Altair groaned heavily and rolled off the bed, standing next to it and felt Malik watching him from the corner of his eye. “Do you still have that cellphone she gave to you?”, he asked him while his fingers worked on the boots, pulling them off his feet and he kicked them away, sending them flying across the small room.

Malik scoffed. “I threw it away when we were driving across the Hudson.”

Altair hummed in an approving manner, peeling the wet coat off his shoulders and let it drop to the floor. “Good... “

It was strange how easy it was to fall back into old habits, how easy it was to relish Malik's presence, how easy it was for their minds to click again, for their survival instincts to kick back in. He felt more like the Sleeping Beauty who finally woke up; and yet, it wasn't the same at all. Theyweren't the same. While so much was just the way it used to be, there was so much more which had changed now and Altair didn't know what to make out of it. He wondered what would happen once the adrenaline wore off when he got the time to think again...

“Malik, we need to talk-”

“Go shower first”, he interrupted Altair. “I'm not going to talk to you when you smell like a novice who's been hiding in a manure pit for the whole day.” Yepp. Definitely the Malik he once knew.

Altair grumbled a reply and Malik's head shot up. “What was that?” And Altair straightened his back, his fingers gripping the hem of his soaked t-shirt and lifting it up and over his head before he let it drop onto the floor as well. “I said it's nice to see you didn't change at all – or so it seems”, Altair muttered and watched how Malik looked away, the faint traces of a blush standing on his cheeks and his lips broke into a grin.

“Now who's the idiot here?”, Altair pondered and shoved Malik's head playfully as he walked pass him and entered the bathroom. He switched on the lights and it looked just like the rest of their room as if it has not been cleaned in a very long time. Altair chose to oversaw the bathroom's flaws, stripped naked and turned on the water, waiting until it got warm and he stepped inside and underneath the spray. For a moment he just stood there and waited for his body to warm up again, steam rising soon and engulfing him like a comforting blanket. He scrubbed his head and he thought he felt something crawling over his skin – he really didn't want to know what else had been inside that coat. Only when he felt clean again he turned the water off, grabbed a towel and put it around his waist, walking back into the room. Malik still sat on the bed, head hanging low between his shoulders with his hands folded between his thighs. He looked up when he heard Altair walking back inside, his hair still wet from the rain. Altair did a 360 in front of him, showing his body from all sides and held his arms to each side of him. “That's better?”, he pondered with a sly smirk and Malik nodded.

“We'll stay for the night – we move again tomorrow”, he concluded with a heavy sigh and slowly stood, rubbing his wet hair as he eyed Altair. None of them spoke for a few moments and it wasn't one of those comfortable silences. Altair grew slowly restless and he caught himself by avoiding Malik's gaze, something he hadn't done in a very long time. It made once more clear in what an unbelievable situation the two of them were. He knew Malik, was familiar with him and still, he could be very well a stranger standing in front of him. He knew nothing about him and yet everything and the thought made his hair stand to end, it made Alair kind of sick to the stomach as it was so very much confusing.

When Altair didn't say anything, Malik opened his mouth again. “What were they looking for?”, he asked Altair, his voice raspy while he pulled his tie from his neck. He narrowed his eyes. “If it's that damn artifact again I hope you made sure for nobody to ever find it again.”

“No”, Altair shook his head, the word soft and just barely above a whisper as Malik's simple question had pulled him right out of his past into the present and back again. “They're looking for the Chalice.”

“The Chalice? But that's-”

“Adha”, he whispered and pressed his lips tightly together until they were nothing but a thin white line. Her name felt like a sharp knife, cutting into his guts and piercing through his heart. There hadn't been a day where he hadn't thought about her, but those thoughts he kept to himself, didn't share them with anybody.

“But she- they took her and-”

“And nothing. She was lost then, she's lost now, dead for centuries”, Altair told him bitterly.

Malik rubbed his face with both hands and looked up the ceiling, sighing again. “You need to explain this. What they did to you, how that thing works you were in.”

It made Altair somehow angry. The way how Malik acted, the way how he chose his words with such accuracy as if he'd never had this modern life. He swallowed it all down. No good would come out of it if he would follow down that path. Altair sat down on a nearby chair and he did tell him, told him everything he knew and told him everything about how he ended up at Abstergo's the first place. His hair was almost dry when he stopped and he looked up at Malik who had hardly moved, just standing there and listening to his words.

“And what were those memories they'd watched?”

“The ones before I left for France-”, and at this Malik took a sharp inhale of air, “- and the ones when I was there.”

“Why? What happened there that they would be interested in them?”

“It's none of your business”, Altair simply told him. He could tell Malik was hiding something so he didn't see the point in telling him anyway.

“None of my business?” Malik scoffed while Altair walked over to his wet clothes, picking them up and put them over the heater, turning it on so they could dry. “I think it's very well my business. Come on now, novice. Spill it.”

Altair fell back into the chair and shook his head. “You don't need to know...” Besides – the less he knew the safer he actually was.

Malik groaned and he walked up and down the small room like a trapped animal. “You are so frustrating Altair. Stubborn as ever.” Malik stopped in front of him and glared down on him. “What else is it you're keeping to yourself?” His eyes narrowed at him and they grew dark and cold, distant maybe.

“I assure you it's nothing, Brother-”

“Nothing?” Malik snorted again. “Yes, of course it is.”

It was the moment Altair finally lost his patience and he stood, stepping in front of Malik and glaring at him. “It's nothing”, he hissed and closed the gap between them, his chest touching Malik's. He could see his own reflection in Malik's eyes and he thought he saw his history whirling inside of them, showing him the long forgotten key to his past and it made him overcome with his own emotions. He leaned in closer, his hand coming up to rest on Malik's hip and-

“Altair, don't. Stop it.”

“Why?”, he muttered but did pull away, licking over his lips. “Why can't we just-”

“Because we can't!” Malik glared at him breathless with his fingers clenched to a fist. “Look at you, you're pathetic”, he practically spat the last word. “What about Maria? Did you even think about her?”

Altair's eyes narrowed and he held his breath for a whole of two seconds. “Is this how you think about me?”, he asked Malik quietly and his voice was trembling with unleashed anger. “You think I haven't thought about her? You think it's just that easy for me? You think ever since I woke up I haven't thought about my family, about my sons?” Altair snorted but his eyes grew softer and then he sighed.

“All of this- all of this is just a reminder of how much I've failed. How I failed the Order, my sons, my wife – you. I thought I did the right thing back then, I didn't. I've watched my wife die right in front of my eyes, dying through the blade which was meant for me.” Altair laughed bitterly, empty and shallow. “What, you think I'm betraying her? That I betray the woman who died centuries ago? I'm not.” He looked up, meeting Malik's eyes. “She knew.”

“She knew? About what?”

“About me.”

Malik seemed confused, puzzled. “Explain.”

“What's there to explain Malik? Nothing is true. And everything is permitted. Isn't that right?” He smiled bitterly sweet at him. He released a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I'm not going to talk about this with you. You didn't want to listen back then, I doubt you're going to listen now.”

When he looked up again he saw something change behind Malik's eyes and for a moment he thought he remembered, he thought Malik knew, would maybe understand.

But maybe his mind was playing tricks on him because Altair watched how Malik turned around wordlessly and closed the door behind as he nearly fled into the bathroom.

He sighed as he heard the water running just a few seconds later.
- 13
- 14
- 15
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Down The Rabbit Hole And Back Again