Scars of Time

[madimpossibledreamer]

Main Points: Assassin's Creed/The Secret World
Summary: Desmond gets some of the pieces in place to take down the Park.
Word Count: 1894
Rating: Teen

 

        At some point, they’re probably going to have to figure out a different place to meet (probably break into the abandoned kindergarten or something, as much as Desmond gets the feeling that it might be haunted like everywhere else on this godforsaken island), because he feels kind of bad cramming so many people into a space designed for about half the number. If any Council agents wanted to use the room now, they can’t. He can at least try to make it quick.
        “We were delayed, a little. The Phoenicians attacked us on the way back, but then they just...withdrew.” Maybe they hadn’t realized at first they were associated with Desmond? That’s assuming they’re abiding by their whole truce they’d presented.
        “But then we followed them back to the house they’d been using as a base—it’s down that road,” Chelsea exclaims, excited, and nice. He’ll have to watch her form again, later, but it sounds like her mission gave her the confidence she needed. “And we waited for them to leave, and snuck inside. They’d set up more lasers, but we made it to the computer. They didn’t leave much, but they’re definitely Phoenician.”
        “Even put the Phoenician flag as the desktop background—that’s a purple ship with the outline of a lion on the sail, boss.” Desmond kind of hopes they’d at least made a try at securing it with a password or he’s kind of embarrassed for them. “Sounds like they’re using ‘organization’ rather than ‘sailors’ or ‘The Brotherhood of Phoenician Sailors’, like the old days.”
        Desmond carefully does not react. He can’t keep jumping at similar words; it’s a coincidence until proven otherwise. From the way Alice is staring holes through him, he might not be fooling her, but hopefully that’s just Alice being Alice, rather than him being incredibly obvious.
        “And they’ve been trying to keep out of the way of the Illuminati and Templars—even the Council, sounds like, so I don’t think they’re here on orders.” Taisa had been thinking about squeezing past for something, but on hearing them discussing the Council just kind of turns around and heads right back.
        Chelsea glances at the doorway and frowns before continuing in a lower voice. “They’d moved on to a new safehouse; apparently the old one was too dangerous, and they’re worried about losing agents. The surveillance is because they’re looking for two things in the amusement park; ‘their plans’ and ‘a piece’. No elaboration on what either means.”
        She doesn’t put any extra emphasis on it, so maybe, hopefully they’re actually lucky for once. Because if it’s really a Piece of Eden, he will scream. Then again, everybody’s just been calling things Artifacts, and if they’re this world’s equivalent...well, they’re dangerous, he’s felt the power of the sword, but it’s. Hard to put into words. Maybe...less focused? A lot of the PoE seemed to be primarily built to interface with humans, and maybe it’s just the fact that there’s so many other species in this world, but it feels like more of a side effect or afterthought in the Artifacts.
        “They thought Winter’s kid had the secret they were looking for. They were gonna interrogate him. And they’re back at their old tricks—they’re selling at least some of the Artifacts they’re collecting. They actually had a ledger, though I can’t make out most of it. Got pictures, though.” Selling, huh? Even if they do some kind of vetting process, they can’t be sure that they’re not handing something to someone who really, really shouldn’t have it.
        And—huh. That actually flags something in Desmond’s brain. “Did they mention what the currency they were getting paid in?” It’s less of a big deal these days, but back when it was more of a pain to do exchanges, sometimes that could be a clue as to the buyer.
        “….Actually, yeah. Marks of Favor and the occasional gold.” Which probably means mostly Council members, right? It’s...Okay, at best they’re getting a bounty from the Council for every Artifact they bring in. Which is unlikely, but he can hope.
        Might as well figure out what the Druids are up for. He glances at Nuala. “You mind keeping an eye on the park? We probably shouldn’t let the Phoenicians get whatever’s in there.”
        “I’ve already sent Francis and Brann. Francis has already begun forming bonds with the squirrels and ravens in the area.” Smart. Because while they weren’t at the car, that’s a perfect time for the Phoenicians to try to ransack it, and Desmond hadn’t even considered that because he’d been so worried about the nagging feeling that they were going to go after Winter himself. And it also means that he doesn’t have to worry as much about Chelsea and Lydia arguing if they’re not on their own.
        Which means it’s his turn.  “Mind backing them up?”
        “Absolutely!” Chelsea responds with enthusiasm. Lydia is...considerably less enthused, but she shrugs and moves over to stand with them all the same.
        “Have you heard the story of the Spear of Longinus?” Nuala asks suddenly. Is that supposed to be the Artifact in the park, or what?
        “Not really.” He shrugs.
        Chelsea jumps in. “It was supposedly used in the Crucifixion. Some legends say that a wound caused by the spear never stops bleeding.”
        Nuala nods, haunted expression much older than her face. “The land out there is similar. Any time it begins to heal, the wound reopens anew. If nothing changes, the scars of what has happened will never fade.”
        “Any ideas on how to make it stop doing that?” He’s already got some, but...especially if they’re inclined to help, it wouldn’t hurt to get a method that would work for them.
        “Druids consider water to be cleansing, although even one of Brann’s storms might not bring enough.” She smiles slightly. “We will help to the best of our ability.”
        “Great, thanks.” He stands, stretching. “I’m going to make a call, and then we’re going to go pick up someone that can maybe help.” He turns to Alice—not that he wants her to listen in, but he wants to make sure she’s fine—but she’s too busy setting up an empty cup for Bob to knock down over and over. She doesn’t look like she has an expression, but the fact that they both keep doing it probably means they’re having fun.

 

        Shaun doesn’t pick up again, which has Desmond worried, so he tries and it’s not until he just does a normal call that he gets an answer, and even then it’s...not great.
        “What do you want, Desmond?”
        Desmond can’t help it, he actually kind of shrinks back from his phone, because—
        Because this version of Shaun hadn’t treated him like an imposition, not in a long time, and just...God he hadn’t realized how nice that was. That, and the video. He’d actually kind of been looking forward to seeing if Shaun had bought a new outfit again or anything, but. Just audio again hurts. Shaun’s shutting him out. Rukh croaks angrily, jabbing his beak at the phone and almost knocking it out of Desmond’s hands.
        “If I’m interrupting, I can just…” Call back? Nah. Go? Yeah, probably, but he really doesn’t want to.
        “No, it…” Shaun stops, swallows, and tries again, and now the absolute exhaustion is really kind of obvious. “We have been informed that it is best to...limit contact. For the time being. Until Sonnac can persuade Dame Julia this is not unwise.”
        He sounds...scared. Which honestly kind of ticks Desmond off, because Shaun isn’t the kind of guy who should sound scared, aside from the occasional Isu visit, because there it makes sense. “Shaun…”
        But then Shaun talks over him. “I’m not—I’ll be fine. All the blood-oaths and the like are intact. But you…”
        He’s not even worried for himself, and not checking in and sending all the info he can (not all of which is even relevant, but everything he knows is interesting) has to be eating him up. The least Desmond can do is reassure him. “I’ll be fine.”
        “You don’t know that!” Shaun yells, before taking in a deep, shuddering breath. “You’re capable. I know that. I’ve seen that for myself. But that does not make you invincible no matter how many powers you have or how deep and unusual your connexion to Gaia. You might be experienced with your cult, but you’ve barely set foot into this world, and there’s…” Another breath. “Did you know, we’re not even sure Bees are absolutely immune to the Filth? Oh, there’s some sort of resilience, but Bees have been around for such a short time we don’t have the data. For all we know, it just takes more. Longer. And you can’t fight the entire Templar army, much less because I’m…”
        He bites that off, which makes for a good distraction, because it helps Desmond narrowly avoid just blurting out ‘wouldn’t be the first time’, which would definitely raise some questions it sounds like he shouldn’t be sharing with Shaun right about now. That really sounds like an (okay, second) aborted confession.
        And it’s not like he can say anything back, not yet, but he might as well give what he can. “I’ll be careful,” he promises, and Shaun’s breathing still sounds...not great. But better. “Should I go, or...?” Honestly, he doesn’t need to talk to Shaun. He just wants to.
        “Make it quick,” he orders, which is basically a ‘yes please’ which he’s not allowed to say. Not at the moment, anyway.
        “The Druids of Avalon are here. Six of them.” The cleansing magic stuff he can figure out on his own, but he wants to know where he stands with them.
        Shaun grunts, flipping through some notes by the sound of it. “They are every bit as noble as the sleeping king they follow, so yes, you can trust them, and yes, they’re probably there for the sword. They’ve probably noticed what I have. Irritatingly, I have since run into run into an account of a Norse expedition bearing something that could be Excalibur, among other rumors and tidbits, but it still isn’t adding up.”
        He doesn’t hang up, though, so Desmond risks it. “Any ideas on cleansing Atlantic Island Park?”
        “Trying to fix all the island’s problems while you’re in the area, I see.” Probably not helping his worries about Desmond pretty much fighting everything, but he only puts that together after Shaun’s already answered. “The Illuminati has already tried this bit, and it didn’t work out for them. Cleaning up after a retired colleague gone mad sorceror. I’d say the most powerful I know of is the blessing of Gaia, which you just so happen to have, but trying to use it on the entire park at once is likely to put you in a coma again. And doing it on one section at a time will likely be ineffective.” He pauses and then adds solemnly, “Do not put yourself in a coma again, Desmond, if you can help it.”
        He laughs. It’s not—okay, everything is fucked, but it’s not because he’s done anything wrong, and Rebecca and Shaun still care. “I already promised you I’d be careful.”
        “See to it that you are.” And then, when Shaun finally goes back to his tea, by the sound of it, he hangs up.