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!