She Sees Me Raise the Knife

She sees me raise the knife.

"He needs to be given a break!" Lucy Stillman protested yet again, following her boss down the hallways of Abstergo.

"No he doesn't," Warren responded, flipping a page on his clipboard. "He's perfectly fine."

Lucy stepped past him and planted herself in front of him, stopping the Templar in his tracks. "He's been in there for nearly a day now! Haven't you learned from any of our past subjects?"

"Excuse me Miss Stillman," Vidic said venomously. "I don't think you're really in a position to argue with anyone right now; you're on very thin ice as it is. Now, if you'll excuse me..." He stepped around her and continued down the hallway.

Lucy stared after him, shoulders slumped. She sighed heavily, feeling the weight of worlds pulling down her heart. "Don't worry, Michael," she whispered. "I'm still on your side."

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Lucy paced back and forth in front of the Animus, where Sixteen had been for at least thirty hours. She was torn between helping him and losing her job and any hope of helping the Assassins. Finally, losing patience and knowing she would be the only one in the room for a while, the blonde pulled Sixteen out of his ancestor's memories.

He woke with a start, eyes snapping open. Immediately he sat up, scanning the room for any dangers. There was a strange, wild look in his eyes, like he was seeing things others couldn't.

"Woah," Lucy urged, placing her hands on his shoulders. "Don't get up too fast."

"Stay away from me!" Sixteen hissed, recoiling. But then the insane look vanished from his dark eyes, and he blinked. "L-Lucy?" he stuttered.

"Yeah." Lucy slapped a smile onto her face, though she felt dread pulling at her heart; Sixteen had obviously been in the Animus far too long. "I thought you needed a break."

"Thanks. I r-really need..." He rubbed the heel of his hand into his forehead, making a strained noise, as if he couldn't remember what word he was about to use. "...This," he finally forced out.

"Maybe you should lie down..." Lucy suggested, gripping his arm and helping him off the Animus.

"Th-thanks," Sixteen repeated, eyes growing unfocused. He looked so tired.

"Hey, Lucy?" he asked softly as she was helping him toward the bed.

"Yeah?"

"What... what y-y-year is it?"

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Screaming. Screaming, a high pitched sound, every second projecting raw pain and suffering. Lucy couldn't handle it any more.

"What the fuck, Warren?" she half-pleaded. "Let me in!"

"I'm afraid I can't do that." Vidic, standing in front of the door, a solid obstacle despite his age. "Who knows what would happen if we interrupted whatever he's dreaming about?"

"He's in pain!" Lucy yelled. "He needs to wake up!"

"Maybe if you hadn't let him out of the Animus, this wouldn't be happening."

"Agh!" Lucy projected a sound of frustration and helplessness. "You're unbelievable, you know? What happens if he dies?"

"Just like the other fifteen times; you should know how it works by now, Miss Stillman."

"That's a person! A human being!" Lucy screamed in his face. "Not one of your fucking guinea pigs!"

Warren remained calm, infuriating her even further. "It's not my fault, nor the fault of the company if anything were to happen to him."

She punched him. Right in the nose. Blood spurted out and Lucy felt her hand bruise under the force of the punch. Warren stumbled to the side, clutching his face, blood pouring down his face. The Assassin stepped forward without so much as a glance at him, and pulled on the door handle.

It was locked.

"FUCK!" Lucy howled, slamming both hands against the door. She bowed her head, breathing deeply, feeling her eyes stinging. "Michael!" she called. "I need you to wake up!"

The screaming continued, and Lucy's tears began to fall.

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"Get your sorry ass in there and get him back in that Animus!" Vidic roared a few days later, nose still cut.

Lucy obeyed, slinking, like a dog who had been kicked, into the bedroom. Sixteen was sitting on his bed, staring at the place where the wall and ceiling met, a hundred different emotions in his eyes: fear, pain, anger, and... wonder.

"Ah, the moon..." he whispered. "I can see the stars.."

"Michael?" Lucy asked softly, approaching him.

Sixteen sighed, not moving or even turning his head. "My mind is gone," he breathed, seeming to accept the fact.

"Don't say that. You just need a longer break," Lucy said stubbornly, but her voice faltered near the end; these were empty words, and he knew it just as well as she did.

"Lucy..." He turned toward her. "I c-can't wait any longer." Sixteen rose, moving past her, keeping his left side hidden, then reached the door and locked it.

"What are you doing?" the blonde asked worriedly, feeling frightened.

"I'm ready to go," he whispered.

"What are you—?" Lucy stopped and her heart seemed to stop as Sixteen raised his left arm, a knife clutched in his shaking hand.

"She sees me raise... the knife."

A flash of silver, and Lucy felt something warm hit her face. It wasn't until she saw the crimson river running down Sixteen's arm that she realized his blood was on her.

The knife clattered to the floor and Sixteen used his now-free hand to make small swirls in the blood on his arm. He sighed, sounding content, and wet his fingers again, raising his left hand to the wall. He began painting...

Lucy squeezed her eyes shut and dropped to her knees; she didn't want to see what was happening, didn't want to hear it, wanted to pretend it was all a bad dream. Sobbing, knowing what was happening yet didn't want it to happen, she covered her face with her hands. But that didn't stop her from hearing Sixteen moving around her, his footsteps growing slower and heavier over time, until a dull thud echoed around the room as he hit the floor.

I can see the moon...

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Desmond was the Assassins' only hope; Lucy knew that now. But with every day that passed, she grew more and more unsure if she was really doing the right thing by forcing him to do this. He didn't want to be in Italy; she could see it in his eyes. He wanted to go home, to have nothing to do with the Assassins or Templars. Sixteen would've jumped at the chance to help.

Stop it, she commanded herself, closing her eyes. He's dead now, and there's nothing you can do about it.

"Hello."

Lucy's eyes snapped open. Sixteen?

"This is... uh, they - they call me Subject Sixteen."

She slumped, staring at her screen. Desmond had found one of the glyphs while she hadn't been paying attention. This was just a memory of Sixteen, a projection. He was dead.

"Listen. I don't have much time, there's something I... have to show you. We have been lied to this whole time..."

He sounded like he was on the brink of cracking, like his mind was stretched so far he couldn't even put a sentence together without tremendous effort.

Rebecca was looking over at her. It wasn't until Lucy inhaled air into her lungs that she realized she'd been holding her breath since he started talking.

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"I can't do it!"

This was it. The final glyph. Lucy thought she was prepared for anything, but not this.

"Can I do it?" Sixteen whispered, pain in every syllable. "Will it set me free from this... endless ring of time?" His voice rose. "I feel the guillotine cut my throat, the bullet hit my chest, the water fill my lungs. The blood spills out... thick and red."

Lucy inhaled sharply and squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out her memories from a month ago. She felt the blood hit her face, saw the calm look in Sixteen's eyes.

"It's time to get out."

She couldn't help it. A choked sob escaped her mouth and she felt like there was an iron band around her ribs, preventing her from drawing breath.

Lucy heard the click that meant Desmond had found the right access code. A brief pause, and then Sixteen was back. His words felt like a punch to the stomach.

"Ah, the moon... I can see the stars..."

He sounded exactly the same as he had a month ago. So peaceful. She knew what was coming next.

"My mind is gone."

Lucy covered her face with her hands, trying to breathe but unable to. All at once, she was reliving what had happened. Memories flicked through her mind, each cutting into her heart with a blade of regret and anguish.

"Lucy..." His words worked their way into her brain, dragging up the image of that knife, flashing silver, then red as it cut its way into his flesh. "I c-can't wait any longer."

The Assassin reluctantly opened her eyes. Desmond was using the Apple to push pieces of a prehistoric skeleton into the shape of a modern human. Sixteen's voice still echoed in the background. "I'm ready to go."

"She sees me raise... the knife."

She'd told herself she wouldn't cry. She knew this was coming, knew that the final glyph would be hard to watch. Lucy half-considered leaving the room, but that would be more trouble than it was worth. Too many questions.

Despite this, she wanted to be anywhere but there. She felt her eyes stinging, water beginning to blur her vision.

"Wow." Rebecca's voice echoed through Lucy's earpiece. Immediately the blonde shook her head and breathed deeply. She hadn't noticed that The Truth had been decoded and watched by everyone but her.

"Was that what I think it was?" Shaun wondered aloud.

Lucy took a shaky breath. "We'll send the video out for analysis as soon as Desmond's done in the machine," she said quietly, but felt her tears somewhat echoed in her words.

Desmond seemed to sense this. "You okay?"

She sighed. "He'd be able to explain the whole thing to us. If only we could..." She stopped, feeling herself losing control of her emotions. "Ask him," she finally breathed out, whispering so no one would hear the emotion in her voice.

Both Rebecca and Shaun were looking at her now. She pulled out her earpiece and set it on the table, sighing deeply.

Lucy kneaded her forehead with the heels of both her palms, unable to get Sixteen's voice out of her head. She sees me raise the knife. He didn't deserve this. He didn't deserve any of this. He should be alive right now.

And it was her fault.