Desmond's POV
Altaïr and Malik show me around, and I feel exhausted from all the time travelling that has happened.
"Desmond, you look tired," Malik says.
"Yes, let's show him to his sleeping quarters," Altaïr replies.
"Sleeping quarters?" I ask, slightly confused.
"Bedroom," Malik says. I chuckle and they lead me to a small room with a bed, a small side table and a window.
"Get some rest. We'll show you around Syria in the morning," Altaïr says.
"Okay..." I mumble, crawling into bed.
"Goodnight, Desmond," Malik says. They leave the room, and I'm asleep in a matter of seconds.
Altaïr's POV
"I can't believe he's here. Desmond, the one who taught us to be teenagers in his era, is here," Malik says. I nod.
"It is quite unbelievable."
"What do you think we should do while he's here?" Malik asks. I think for a moment before walking to my room and pulling out some spare assassin robes.
"He can wear these. It will help him blend in with the others in the Order," I say.
"Good idea. Are you going to train him?" Malik asks.
"Of course. He might as well learn while he's here."
Malik nods and walks back to his office. I go to Desmond's room and place the robes on his table. He's sleeping soundly, and I smile.
I missed him a lot.
Reaching into my pocket, I carefully unfold the drawing I have of the seven of us in a group hug. The picture of Desmond and I playing dodgeball is hanging on the wall in my room, as well as the sweater he gave me.
I close the wooden door of Desmond's room softly and walk down the hall towards my room.
There's so much to do when he wakes up.
A/N: Yay I updated!
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Blasted to the Past: Sequel to Ripped from our Time
FanfictionThe assassins have gone back to their time. Desmond Miles believes everything is over and that all will go back to normal. But when the Animus has a serious jinx for the second time, things are put in reverse.
