8 Relapse and Recovery

A tense silence plagued the four temporary inhabitants of the dank cellar room. Their thoughts wandered, so many questions of what had happened barely an hour ago. The guy that had been introduced as Alex had provided short and cryptic information, then left without a trace. Rebecca even wondered if it had been real at all. Though, if it had been a dream or a play in her head, how would the others be able to remember it? It had to be true. Or this- Everything that had happened for the past few hours had also been a dream. Pinching herself didn't help. It all felt so surreal. But it had to be true. It had to be real.

Lucy watched with concern as her friend sat down on a fold-out chair to check on the Animus' codes and make sure all the software was updated and running smoothly. It was almost physically painful to see her friend so distraught. Her movements were almost mechanical; stiff and slow. Lucy didn't know what she could do to help either. The guy had been incredibly shady, and she didn't like his way of seemingly putting himself above them, as if he was some kind of an upper being. Not only was it condescending, but it was also incredibly annoying. What was his problem anyway?

Blue eyes trailed over to Shaun where he stood bent over his table reading through the notes and articles they'd gathered on their way here. Eyebrows were fuzzed and he wore a deep frown. She wondered if he were concerned about something other than what they'd just been through. Surely, there was the threat of being discovered, and the details Becca had told them about Manhattan island being overrun by some kind of biological plague, but there was something else on his mind. She saw that.

"Any news on the templars?" she asked aloud, diverting all her attention to the brit. He blinked and looked up from the table. He looked almost confused for a moment. Had he been daydreaming? Maybe just caught up in his own thoughts.

"No, it's as empty as in my pockets" he finally said and looked back to his table, grabbing an article on his left. He focused so intensely on it his eyes might just pop out of his head. Clearly, something was up. With all of them, not just Shaun and Rebecca. Desmond was holding back on something, and it obviously had something to do with the guy in leather. She'd have to ask him about it. Now was actually as good time as any, since he wouldn't get into the Animus anytime soon anyway.

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Dana was almost surprised to hear Alex enter the apartment. The last few times he'd been silent as a ghost and had scared her half to death when asking her a question while she was sitting at her laptop, or when she spotted him in the sofa. For a second she pondered on why he was here again, the fourth time today. What concerned her more though, was the expression on his face. He'd seen something he was not happy to see. Not that he ever seemed to be happy these days, but the creak of his eyebrows seemed deeper than when she'd last seen him. He was in thought.

He had slumped down in the sofa with his arms crossed and gaze glued to a spot on the floor. Dana almost didn't want to disturb the scene. Not because it was peaceful - it was anything but that - but because it seemed like if she did as much as take one wrong step and accidentally made one of the floorboards creak, he would explode. As far as Dana knew, Alex had never been the type to think before he acted, and was more about action before it was too late. Then again, he'd always been brilliant and quick to think. Maybe he did know the consequences of his actions, but decided he was buff enough to take it, and proceeded anyway. That one seemed more likely, even if Dana still doubted that he would actually consider his options.

"What happened out there Alex?" she finally said, almost inaudibly from where she sat in her chair at the desk. She hadn't dared coming any closer in case it would risk a violent outbreak from her brother. That line of thought were heavy to walk through. He was her brother, but it was as if she barely knew him anymore. He'd changed so much since moving to New York. Whatever crap had happened here in the city - in the heart of Manhattan - it must've been awful. Had he been involved in it? At the center of it all even? Clearly, it had made an impact on him, and maybe even greater than what she had first thought. She had to fight a shudder at that. What in the lord's name had happened that could've made her brother so ... cold?

As if she wasn't fed up enough - when he rose from his seat with haste and took a step closer to her, she couldn't help the flinch. Wide eyes looked at him as if she was a deer caught in the headlights of a car. The hurt look on his face was so brief she would've missed it if she wasn't looking so intensely at him. It made the guilt smash into her face and settle in her stomach. Maybe he was different, but he was still her brother. He would never hurt her. If she didn't believe that, she might as well have gone crazy.

"We have to get rid of them" he said suddenly, eyes averted. His fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles whitened - if that was even possible with how pale he already was. For a second she wondered what might've caused that. True, he wasn't one for glazing under the sun, but living in New York you were bound to get at least some color. He didn't truly wear that hood all year around ... right?

"Them?" she asked dumbfoundedly, eyebrows scrunching. Only a second later she caught on to his thoughts. The people he had been talking about earlier. The woman he had saved only a day prior. He had assured their safety and now he wanted to get rid of them? Then what had been the point from the start? Why? She could only imagine what the term 'rid' meant for him.

"Them" she stated, gaze falling to look at her feet. Alex stayed quiet, but she could hear a shuffling and footsteps as he started pacing. It was a habit he'd picked up and practiced quite often lately. She chanced a look and noticed the tense shoulders and stiff movements he'd adapted. Normally she'd take it as a sign of some underlying stress and possible anxiety, but was that true for her brother as well? He was quick-witted and intelligent, always knew the answers to the questions and solutions to the problems. There was a good chance he hadn't ever gotten stressed before since he always knew what to expect. She could suspect that this was all new to him. To ... feel. However weird that might sound to her.

"Alex" she said softly as she stood up from her chair. He stopped his pacing long enough to glance at her over his shoulder. If only she knew what he was thinking this could be so much easier. "It can't be that bad". Oh yea, great start. If it wasn't bad, he wouldn't be pacing, would he now? She cursed herself inwardly, but couldn't come up with anything better to say. She settled with a gentle smile instead. If he suspected things were bad, perhaps he could find out their names. If they just knew that, she could find out more about them. Surely, there had to be some information somewhere. It was basically impossible to just disappear from the web. If they didn't have some kind of an expert with them. That could complicate things. Greatly.

"It's bad" Alex mumbled, barely loud enough for her to hear him. Her eyebrows scrunched up into a scowl at this, but she didn't say anything further. He was in thought. "They're bad".

Could he be more cryptic? Bad as in bad people? Bad for them? Bad at something? A bad influence? Surely, nothing could be more of a bad influence than themselves, hiding away in an old apartment as they were. But then again... Those other people were hiding out in the basement. It did seem a bit shady.

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For the third time that day, Desmond wondered why they seemed to always get into trouble when they arrived to a new place. At least it wasn't some godly being making ghostly appearances and speaking in riddles. He was way over that. Gotten enough of it for three lifetimes onward. Yea, no, no thank you. Curse this precursor crap and all of their concoctions. Why couldn't he just have a moment of calm and peace by himself for once? Just one moment. That was all he asked for.

"Desmond".

The soft voice of the blonde distracted him from his thoughts enough for him to open his eyes. He'd been ignoring the world and pretending to be asleep on the mattress, but maybe he didn't do very well with that. Or she was just speaking his name to see if it would work with just that to wake him up. It probably wouldn't if he'd actually been asleep. Fading in and out of consciousness like he'd done the last few hours meant half of the time he was in a deep slumber, and the other half he was squirming where he lay, unable to get any rest. As of now, he'd given up on trying. He preferred the ease of just closing his eyes rather than the restlessness that came with the strange dreams he was having in his sickened state. Maybe he was having a fever?

Brown eyes peered at Lucy, looked her over from top to toe. He noticed she was holding something - seemingly clutching it in her hands. It looked like a bottle with some kind of liquid in it. He couldn't be sure with the blur still in his vision though. If only he'd been more thoughtful. If he hadn't gotten caught, he would've gotten the information needed to find Becca and-

"Rebecca-" he gasped, trying to sit up. The pain from his wound slowed his movement, but he refused to let it beat him. Lucy put a hand over his shoulder in what he assumed was an attempt to get him to lie back down, but he shrugged it off. He didn't need consolence. He needed to know if Rebecca was safe. If it had all been a dream or if he had to get a move on. Eyes scanned the surroundings and-

She was here. Previously typing away on the keyboard of her laptop, but now sending him a reassuring smile over her shoulder. Desmond exhaled heavily and hung his head. She had either been safe all this time, or she had gotten out of trouble by herself. Perhaps someone else had rescued her? Wait a minute... He did recall a vague memory of waking up earlier and seeing her there. Or was that a dream too? He didn't know, and frankly, it wasn't important. She was safe, no matter how she'd gotten out.

"Desmond" Lucy repeated softly, and he gave a grunt for a response. He didn't feel like talking right now. Perhaps he should just listen and try to get some rest... She held the bottle out in front of his face, and he accepted it without another word. Unscrewing the cap, he took a whiff - odorless. Water? To be honest, he was rather thirsty - a result of the bloodloss he suffered from. The fluid flushed down his throat in big gulps. It felt like ages since he'd had anything to drink, his throat feeling drier than a desert. The water seemed to be harvested from heavenly springs - it was utterly delicious. He'd never say no to a gulp again if it kept being this good. It probably wouldn't, sadly.

"Have anything to eat as well?" he croaked while drying his mouth with the back of his hand. He was famished. Part of the healing process, he guessed. Lucy didn't respond, but went over to a box to his left and picked up a small package that she handed to him. He wasted no time on wondering what it could be, ripping up the plastic and digging his teeth into the now exposed sandwich. Ham, cheese and lettuce. This too was completely and utterly delicious. His eyes shut as he chewed in a bliss-like state.

"Did you make this?" he asked, mouth still half full and a finger pointed at the sandwich in his hand. Lucy's expression was confused at first, and he smiled softly at her. "It's so good" he added while taking another bite. She chuckled at him, then sat down beside him on the mattress.

"I suppose I did" she said, a smile brightening her features. Desmond couldn't recall the last time he looked at her - actually looked. It had been so much stress lately. Running, running and more running. They barely had any time to stop and take a moment to eat, and when they did it was hastily. Sure, the pressure was still heavy on his shoulders, but now when he wasn't at his peak he couldn't exactly do much.

He noticed the somewhat absent expression on Lucy's face and went to ask about it, but she was faster than him on this occasion. "You should get some rest" she said with a pat on his shoulder. He cocked an eyebrow at her. Resting was basically all he had done since he got back inside. Or at least it's what he'd tried to do. He'd been more or less successful lately, dreams and pain disturbing his rest. Couldn't he at least get a chance to try being useful? "We need you back in the Animus as soon as possible". Ah... Responsibilities. He should've known that.

"Baby will be ready when you are, Desmond" Rebecca said from her seat and fired a smile at him. Oh well, what choice did he have? He swallowed the last of his sandwich and laid back down on the mattress. Lucy moved to give him the space he needed and he rolled over on his side to have his back to the others. He really didn't sign up for this. He had tried to do something good, and now he was stuck in bed for it. He should tell them. Tell them what he had seen up in the hallway. He should-

But then exhaustion overwhelmed him and he fell into the depths of Neverland, dreaming about lost boys, sunken ships and magical fairy dust.