Heavy Rain, AC2 Shaun/Desmond fanfic.

[kai19999]

Title: Heavy Rain
Author: kai19999 
Pairing: Shaun/Desmond
Rating: T
Warning: Slash.
Summary: Three little words completely tore apart everything Shaun believed about Desmond, forcing Desmond to make the choice between Lucy or Shaun. Is an undeniable attraction or close friendship willing to take the strain of this new relationship?
Disclaimer: I do not own Assassin’s Creed and if I did that animus chair would be covered in... well... yeah.

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Heavy Rain


I’ll protect you.

He shouldn’t have been so foolishly hopeful.

“Shaun! Where are you going?” Rebecca shouted, caught in between her work and the option of following Shaun. The petite, black haired woman couldn’t tear herself away from her masterpiece, even if it meant only doing so for a few minutes. She watched hopelessly as the historian made his way out of the room. Desmond whipped around at the sound of a chair crashing to the ground. Lucy looked around him, only to catch the flash of grey disappearing behind the corner. Reluctantly, the blonde haired woman cast her gaze over to Rebecca, hoping desperately for an explanation or the news of a quick return. They couldn’t set up the Animus without Shaun, as much as they wish they could do so.

Desmond looked to the windows, listening as the rain relentlessly hit against the glass. It had been three days and the storm hadn’t let up; not even the slightest bit. Once again, Desmond shifted his eyes over to Lucy, who was staring at him softly. Did she know?

“Desmond... Can you go talk to him? Lucy and I will get our part set up while you do so,” she smiled, showing her pearly white teeth. He nodded in reply and began to make his way for the steps.

I’ll protect you.

Briskly, he descended down the staircase. How could he have let his stupid mouth slip up so easily? It was hard not to drop a line or two here or there. After all, she had saved him from the Templar bastards that wanted him so desperately dead now. A severe reversed case of white knight syndrome, it seemed. She had been the one who he could confide in, trust completely without a doubt. He thought they were going to be alone for the rest of the run from their corporate enemies. He had never thought that they would come into contact with someone else. Never once, had he thought of the outside world and those who lived - other than those who kept him captive - and helped him escape. Of course, it couldn’t have just been Lucy by herself. She needed help from the outside.

Walking down into the eerie warehouse, he saw Shaun as he was making his way out to the door far ahead. They had only been in the stronghold for two weeks and so far, there had been no warnings of Templars being nearby. Though, that didn’t mean that Desmond was allowed to go outside and act like a normal citizen. Desmond knew very few things about the lives of an Assassin, but there was one thing he knew for sure - they could never return to a somewhat normal life.

Without a second thought, Desmond vaulted over the stairs, landing solidly on the concrete ground in an instant. Jogging slightly, he jumped over a few boxes and began to make his way towards Shaun.

“Shaun, wait up!” He shouted, hurtling himself over a larger crate and making his way through the security gates at an agonizingly slow pace. It didn’t look as if Shaun was going to wait for him as he was making his way through the last safety precaution. “Shaun, just... damn it! Get your ass back here!” Desmond’s shouts for him to return were to no avail as he watched the man open the door slowly. He hesitated, standing in the doorframe, as if he was giving the novice a chance to catch up. Spotting the opportunity, Desmond picked up the pace and made his way through the last gate.

“Shaun, listen! I-” and before he could get out his apology, the door was slammed right in his face. He could feel the quick movement of wind whip past his ears. Feeling defeated, Desmond pressed his palm against the cold door, listening to the rain outside. He must be getting soaked, Desmond thought, leaning against the door. He watched as his hand lingered on the doorknob, uncertainty rising in his chest. Did he really want to get out there and talk to the angered man? He didn’t even know what he was against - the reason why Shaun Hastings was so livid. Sighing heavily, he twisted his wrist and slowly opened the door.

Shutting the door behind him, he watched as Shaun didn’t even acknowledge his arrival. The heavy rain poured down on them, like buckets full of water being dumped over someone’s head over and over again without rest. In just a few seconds, Desmond could already feel himself soaked to the bone. Crossing his arms, he slowly approached the man in front of him.

“Shaun?” He asked once again, already feeling his teeth chatter as streaks of rainwater poured down the side of his face. He waited for a response. The rain continued to fall.

“Shaun, talk to me,” he spoke louder this time. Desmond didn’t know what to feel; hurt, ashamed, confused? He tried to put the loose puzzle pieces together but they just weren’t clicking in his head.

“Do you say that to everyone, Miles?” When he spoke, Desmond wished he hadn’t followed him anymore, that he had stayed inside, dry and warm, and let the man vent his frustrations by himself. Desmond knew he only used last names when he was absolutely furious. Plus the cold venom that flowed in his voice was enough to kill a lion or a grizzly bear in one single dose.

“Say what?” He replied, completely thrown off. What had he said that would irk the man so much?

“Don’t play dumb with me!” He shouted, turning around, eyes blazing with fury. He had his arms huddled in front of him, grabbing his sides, teeth chattering. Desmond watched as he took off his glasses and attempted to dry them, but ended up making them worse. “Damn... glasses.” he grumbled, putting them back on. Desmond had to fight an urge to take them off, go inside, wipe them on a dry cloth, then come back out and stick them back on his pretty little British head. “You know what I mean,” he added in quickly, turning his back to him once again.

“No, I don’t. Tell me,” he pleaded, leaving his pride behind him as he walked forward. With every step closer in the dark mud, he could feel the tension grow thicker and thicker, until it practically became a barrier between them. He was only two steps away - two steps away from wrapping his arms around the man’s body and telling him that he would never hurt him.

“I’ll protect you.”

That was all he needed to say before the puzzle pieces finally managed to click together.

“Shaun, let me explain-”

“I don’t need to hear it, Miles,” Shaun snapped, then sneezed into his arm.

“Let’s go back inside, you’ll catch a cold and-”

“Miles!” He shouted, turning around. “Just shut up for one moment! I’m tired of the garbage you continue to speak of! Do you just use the same lines on everyone? Next thing I’ll hear is Rebecca saying that you promised to protect her. Will you sleep with her afterwards? Or have you already done that? I bet you had your fun with Lucy - she’s probably in love with you but you’re too damn ignorant to see it or even care! You stupid twat, thinking that you own the bloody place... You can’t just mess with people and then throw them out! Like it or not, we’re the majority of the few people you’re going to see for the next while - if we make it out of this alive. Christ, why did you even do it? Why did you even say it to me when it clearly meant nothing?” His words stung, each one sharper than the last.

“Why did you kiss me, Desmond?”

- - -

“What do you need to get off your chest so badly that it has to be done in my room?” Shaun hissed, crossing his arms as he shut the door behind him.

Desmond sighed heavily as he stalled for time. He had to say it, he just had to. Slowly, he began to walk around the room, observing all the newspaper clippings on the walls and the familiar drawings from the Database. He must have stolen the newspaper from outside. Or he could have just bought one with cash - it wasn’t like he was completely cut off to the whole world outside.

“What are you, a tiny child? Now spit it out and get it over with - you’re wasting my time. We can’t go around doing that, these days. The Templars are going to find us eventually and it’ll be your god damn fault if we’re not finished the sequences by then,” he scowled, adjusting the glasses on his nose. He continued to shoot his mouth off but Desmond completely tuned him out. All he heard were the quiet whispers of the people from 15th century Florence. He once again felt the Bleeding Effect detach himself from this world and pull him back into history the slightest bit.

“Well?” Shaun’s urgent voice snapped him out of his trance, bringing him fully back to reality. The whispers were gone, replaced with the sound of the lousy weather outside.

“Well what?” He had forgotten why they were alone together, in Shaun’s room. Why were they again?

“You stupid tosser! You wanted to tell me something privately! Go on, do it before I change my mind and return to... Hey! What are you do-” and before he could finish his sentence that he started ever so rudely, he was pinned to the wall by Subject 17.

“I’ll protect you,” and with those words that would constantly echo in Shaun Hastings’ mind, Desmond pressed their lips together. Stunned, the man couldn’t do anything as he felt Desmond’s tongue probe for entrance to his mouth. Hesitantly, he began to kiss back in a way he thought he could never kiss. It felt as if someone had taken the burden of his sexual tensions off his shoulders and tossed them on the ground, where they no longer needed to be tended to.

How could something he had so desperately sought after involuntarily in his dreams, become reality? Shaun didn’t know whether to accept it with grace or reject him and pretend it never happened. He could feel the warmth of the man’s arms as they slowly dropped down to his waist, holding him carefully. Slowly, Shaun opened one eye, then the other.

“Why... why would you do that?” He was still on the line between yes and no.

“... Because I needed to get it off my chest.”

“Oh.”

“... Are you alright? Maybe I shouldn’t have done it. Fuck. I screwed up, again.” He groaned, pulling back away from the man.

“No, twat - I mean... ugh, Desmond! Stop,” he mumbled, grabbing his arm. Slowly, he looked up to see the confident man cock an eyebrow. “I don’t like you - you don’t like me.”

“How do you-”

“Shut up, I just don’t like you. We’re always at each other’s throats, tossing insults consistently at each other and Lucy and Rebecca sigh with happiness when you finally get into the Animus and I get back to translating. This just doesn’t add up.”

“Your answer to the equation is right here,” he gestured to his hand, which was grasped tightly around Desmond’s arm. For a moment, Shaun’s voice wouldn’t work and neither did the muscles in his body - he couldn’t move his hand. As much as he hated to admit it, the novice was right.

- - -

“Why? Why would you trick me like that?” Finally, he could hear the hurt trickling in through his voice.

He gathered the courage to take one more step - but only one. Desmond looked down at the ground as he felt Shaun’s eyes bore into him, burning a hole into his forehead. “I didn’t trick you...” He managed to look up. Where was his confidence now? The rain pooled around his shoes, drenching his feet entirely.

“What did you do then? Cheat? Lie? Tell me, Desmond, I’m tired of guessing...” he sighed heavily, pushing the glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“I just... Shaun, I wouldn’t lie or cheat on you... honestly, I’m not that kind of guy,” he sucked in a huge breath, waiting for the backlash.

“What kind of guy are you then, Desmond?” Even as he braced for it, it still felt like a hard whip crack to his vulnerable back. Hit after hit, he thought he couldn’t take anymore. Hit after hit, he felt the biggest urge to give up and retreat back to the safety of his warm bed, to the safety of Lucy - who wouldn’t judge him.

Or would she?

It didn’t matter.

“Shaun! I don’t see her that way anymore!” He growled, feeling his defensive attitude rise. “When I... when I kissed you, I put everything else aside!” He clenched his fist, fighting the urge to run over and smack him in the nose. His vexation grew at the minutes ticked by without a response. He had to have something to say to that. But what if he didn’t? What if it was done right here? He wouldn’t be able to look at him the same. That would be the ultimate screw up - to completely destroy the relationship with the very few people he would be spending a chunk of his life with.

“When I told Lucy I’d protect her, you know what I meant! Shaun, she’s the closest thing I have to a best friend around here! I would... I would give my life for her.”

Obviously, that wasn’t what Shaun had wanted him to say.

“Twat! You’re just... you’re insufferable to be around. You pathetic, pompous asshole. Go do whatever the bloody hell you want - just make sure it doesn’t include me,” he frowned, shooting daggers at him with his eyes. Never before had Desmond seen such raw emotion daring to tear apart anything in its way. It sent chills down his spine, but that could have just been the ice cold rain running lines down his spine.

“Fine... I... I never meant to kiss you anyways! Who the hell would want to be with a dick like you?” Desmond spat back, feeling the hesitancy in his own emotion. “You’ll never find anyone! You’ll never know anything any different from what I almost gave you. Damn it, Shaun. You’ll be confined to your computer and never see the light of day ever again. You fail as a social human being.” The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could do anything about it. He watched as Shaun’s posture immediately straightened, shoulders tense.

“... You damn bastard!” He growled, raising his fist. Before Desmond could protest, he felt a heavy impact against his cheek and a loud crunching noise. Stumbling back, Desmond’s senses immediately picked up and he managed to block Shaun’s next attack. His legs wobbled slightly as he pulled back, ducking as Shaun tried to get him across the face once again. Already, he could feel the pain blossoming through his cheek, probably painting a dark purple pattern along with it. He knew Shaun was an Assassin, but he didn’t know he was this good of one.

He grunted loudly as he felt Shaun’s fist connect with his stomach, threatening yesterday’s breakfast to surface. A second hit, a third blow. He fell to the ground and doubled over in pain, clutching his stomach. Hair matted to his scalp, he flung his head back just to feel Shaun’s knee connect with his jaw. Flying backwards, Desmond landed on his back. Panting slightly, he tried to kick himself up but was immediately stopped by Shaun’s foot, which pressed down roughly on his chest. He felt the air escape from his lungs and he desperately inhaled, trying to retain it this time. To his surprise, he watched in shock as Shaun bent down and straddled him, winding his fist for another strike.

Closing his eyes, he felt as the man hit him once. Twice. He already tasted the blood in his mouth. Lucy and Rebecca would freak out once they saw him. Once he opened his eyes, all he met was a bright light of pure blue and pitch black around them. The rain fell as thin, silver slithers but they were hardly noticeable. Even as Shaun pulled back his hand for another hit, the man glowed blue - an ally’s colour.

“You... stupid... idiot...” Shaun hissed between his clenched teeth, letting his fist fall to his side. The rain continued to fall harder as he looked down at the bloodied mess in front of him. “I trusted you!” He shouted, grabbing the front of Desmond’s sweater. He could feel himself spiralling out of control as memories from him working on the field jumped out at him. He remembered killing his first man - the instant guilt he felt. It was short lived, as he had to continue running from his foe but it was still there. He kept telling himself he had pushed it away, that it was done and over with. But by looking at Desmond, he instantly felt the guilt bubble its way from the darkest corner of his heart and spill over onto his cheeks.

He wasn’t a man to cry, not even when he lost his first comrade. He only continued on, like a soldier in war.

Though with the rain pouring down as heavily as it did, Desmond wouldn’t be able to tell he was crying.

“Desmond...” He voiced, shaking slightly. His cynical attitude had been the cause of all this. Jealousy had flamed within him, but he had every right to challenge his words. But then a thought struck him. Desmond hadn’t even bothered to fight back. He did so weakly, giving an obvious upper hand to the older man.

“What the hell... do you want now?” He panted, grinning foolishly. Shaun instantly felt relief - why though? Why did he want to stay with him? Why did he want him to forget about Lucy and everyone else?

“I hate you,” he frowned, letting go of Desmond’s sweater abruptly. Desmond cussed loudly as he felt his head crash back to the muddy ground.

“Hate’s a.... pretty strong word,” Desmond smirked, sluggishly wiping the remainder of blood off his face, though the rain had mostly cleaned it up. There was definitely going to be severe swelling, Shaun could tell that much. Seeing Desmond back to his cocky self actually tugged at the corner of Shaun’s lips, daring him to smile. Slowly, he leaned in, feeling his chest tighten they kissed delicately. He could feel that he had split his lip right down the middle and that it was still faintly bleeding. But before he could pull back and help Desmond to his feet, he felt a tongue force its way into his mouth and for a moment, just like the first time, he froze. Your timing is just awful, Shaun thought as he pulled back.

“Hey-”

“You know what else a strong word is? Go fuck yourself.”

“That’s not a word, that’s a phrase,” he chuckled, lazily grabbing Shaun’s sides. Irritated, the historian looked to the sky and closed his eyes. He figured this wouldn’t be the last time he’d strike Desmond across the face. Scowling, he slapped the man’s hands away from him roughly. “Ah, bastard!” He groaned as Shaun got up and began to walk to the door. “Hey, help me!”

“Go fuck yourself, Miles.”

Sighing, Desmond rolled over onto his aching side. He managed to get up and stumble his way to the door, which Shaun had propped open for him. As he entered and slowly closed it behind him, he looked to see Shaun nowhere in sight. Shivering, he dragged himself through the security gates and locked each one up as he went through. Finally getting to the main area, he watched as Shaun looked over his shoulders and right at him. Drenched in rain, his facial expression was back to his usual poker face. He stood still as Desmond walked right up to him but stepped away when he saw Desmond motioned for a hug, or even a small kiss.

“No,” he growled as he rolled up his wet sleeves and twisted them, releasing at least a pound of rainwater onto the concrete ground.

“What? But I thought-”

“There are security cameras everywhere here. You’re going to tell her yourself, face to face,” he said, tight lipped, as he took off his glasses and began to make his way up the steel staircase. It felt like another blow to the stomach. Why did he have to tell her? “And stop sulking like a six year old. It doesn’t fit someone twenty-five years of age.” Everything he said made him want to grab the British man by the throat and choke him until he would deliver a near death and sincere, apology. Desmond looked up and counted all fifteen security cameras that resided in every corner of the warehouse. Once they made it to the long, dark hallway, he knew that they would be concealed by the lack of light. Apparently Shaun was thinking the same thing, as he pinned the man against the wall.

As he kissed him, Desmond couldn’t help but nearly collapse into his arms. Gliding his tongue against the bottom of his lip, Shaun smirked when he heard Desmond moan quietly into his mouth. He didn’t even flinch when he felt the younger man grab the back of his head, twisting his fingers into his auburn coloured hair. His hands cupped Desmond’s face, pulling him in as close as he could. Panting slightly, he pulled back, much to Desmond’s protest, and licked his lips.

“More... please...” Shaun grinned as he heard Desmond’s voice - it sounded as if he had ran a thousand miles. As he leaned in, Shaun pulled back further, letting Desmond’s hands fall back to his sides.

“You’ll just have to earn it,” and as he spoke those words, he began to make his way down the hallway and back to the room where Lucy and Rebecca waited anxiously for their return.

“Where’s Des- Oh my god! What happened to him?” Lucy shrieked, jumping out of her chair and rushed over as Desmond plopped himself down on the Animus’ chair. “Your lip... it’s bleeding! And I can see bruises already forming... What went on? Shaun!” She yelled, blood boiling inside her.

“He asked for it,” Shaun shrugged in reply, cracking his knuckles as he put his chair upright and sat down, as if none of it had ever happened. Rebecca sighed as he walked over to him, placing a hand gently on his shoulder and whispering something into his ear. Desmond only watched as an uncertain emotion unconcealed its self on his face. As if everything were in slow motion, he watched as Rebecca glanced subtly over at him and their gazes met momentarily.

She knows.

Breaking eye contact, he looked back over to Lucy, who was going on about his injuries. Her eyes were soft, filled with concern for her injured friend. She scurried over to a cabinet and rushed her way back, dabbing at the cut with alcohol. It stung quite a bit and it reminded him of Shaun’s cruel words. The whole moment took him back to his past, when he was six years old. When he fell down, scraped his knee, and his father and mother took care of him, treating it all as if it were a big event. But it wasn’t - it was just scraped knees. They hovered over him, giving him unnecessary reassurances and treated his wound. He looked at Lucy once again, who smiled and told him to lie in his bed. Just like his mother and father had.

“Lucy... I have something to tell you,” and as he spoke, he watched Lucy’s expression change with each word. As he finished his explanation, which took him longer than he thought was needed. Lucy’s face was solid, unreadable.

The heavy rain outside continued to fall, lashing out against the windows, making it the only audible sound in the whole room.