[ Desmond halts to a stop, on top of one of the roofs of the Business District. He was on his way back from checking out the place he'll be making his bar. The sound of Elizabeth's voice from the phone makes him stop and pull it out, staring at the screen in front of him. His body tenses and jerks all at once from the shock of it all. His eyes meet hers on the screen as he sees her. She's an ally. Something like a friend, and he's got no idea where she is. No idea where to find her. How to help her-- ]
Elizabeth!
[ He wants to run to find her, he wants to stand shocked. His body stays where it is as he sinks to the roof, staring helplessly at the screen. He wants to run to find her, but he knows there's no point. Elizabeth is gone. He's seen enough people die to know what the look in their eyes means. From the men in the Crusades to the men of the Renaissance and the streets of Constantinople, Desmond has seen countless people die. Even a few at his own hand.
This is different.
This is like watching Lucy die all over again. That heavy feeling that threatens to drag him down. The one that threatens to drown him in hopelessness. All Desmond can find it in himself to do is sit there. ]
[ Desmond halts to a stop, on top of one of the roofs of the Business District. He was on his way back from checking out the place he'll be making his bar. The sound of Elizabeth's voice from the phone makes him stop and pull it out, staring at the screen in front of him. His body tenses and jerks all at once from the shock of it all. His eyes meet hers on the screen as he sees her. She's an ally. Something like a friend, and he's got no idea where she is. No idea where to find her. How to help her-- ]
Elizabeth!
[ He wants to run to find her, he wants to stand shocked. His body stays where it is as he sinks to the roof, staring helplessly at the screen. He wants to run to find her, but he knows there's no point. Elizabeth is gone. He's seen enough people die to know what the look in their eyes means. From the men in the Crusades to the men of the Renaissance and the streets of Constantinople, Desmond has seen countless people die. Even a few at his own hand.
This is different.
This is like watching Lucy die all over again. That heavy feeling that threatens to drag him down. The one that threatens to drown him in hopelessness. All Desmond can find it in himself to do is sit there. ]
...Son of a bitch.
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