Too Close to Love You

Pairing: Altair x Malik
Fandom: Assassin’s Creed
Rating: T
Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Language, Yaoi
Disclaimer: I own nothing, I make no money.  As much as I’d love a pet Malik, neither he nor Altair belong to me.

“Men!  To arms!  Kill the assassins!”

“Shit” Malik whispered to himself as he looked toward his younger brother.  Kadar’s eyes were wide with fear as he met Malik’s gaze.  Malik felt his stomach drop, he knew Kadar shouldn’t have come here, especially not with how Altair had been acting since his last promotion.  They both drew their weapons as Robert’s men ran at them; swords clashed and the two assassins were forced backwards toward the wall.  

Malik used all his strength to push the Templar away, quickly driving his sword through the man’s chest before he was quickly replaced by another man.  He chanced a glance at Kadar, who was struggling with a very large Templar and had been completely backed against the wall, giving him no way to escape.  Malik gritted his teeth and kicked the Templar in front of him in the stomach as hard as he could and turned to run to Kadar’s aid, just in time to see the Templar plunge his sword into his younger brother’s stomach.  The novice assassin screamed in pain and slowly slid down the wall to the floor.

Malik fell to his knees, his ears rang and he could only stare as the life faded from his brother’s eyes.  He then felt a searing pain shoot through his body from his left arm, he looked to see blood pouring from a very deep wound just above his elbow.

---

Malik screamed as he awoke covered in sweat and breathing heavily, pain still shooting from his missing arm.

“Are you alright?” Malik flinched as Altair touched his arm, the master assassin looked concerned for his lover.  Malik felt guilty for wanting to punch Altair in the face, the man had redeemed himself, he’d already been forgiven, why were these nightmares bringing up such bitter feelings towards the man he had fallen in love with?

“Yes, I’m fine.  Just a bad dream.  I’m going for a walk” Altair looked troubled as he watched Malik stand up and put his robe on.

“Do you want to talk about it?” the master assassin asked, sitting up in bed.

“No, go back to sleep” he snapped, immediately regretting it upon seeing the hurt look on Altair’s face, but he couldn’t help getting annoyed.  He felt so conflicted, he still loved Altair, but at the same time hated him with every fibre of his being.  He needed time to sort his head out.

---

The cloudless night sky was beautiful as Malik sat on a bench just outside of the castle staring upward.  But as soothing as the stars were, he couldn’t bury the burning hatred he had begun to harbour for Altair.  These nightmares had suddenly started to haunt him again a few months ago, he thought he had already grieved and moved on from his brother’s death, but it seems the Templars and Al Mualim had just been a distraction and now with nothing else to occupy his mind, the memories had come flooding back.

“Fuck…” Malik put his head in his hands, he did love Altair.  His heart ached at the thought of leaving him, but he also wanted to hurt Altair, badly.  He wanted Altair to feel the same pain as the loss of his brother and arm had caused Malik.  

Malik made up his mind at that moment, he needed to leave.  It was the lesser of two evils.  He made his way back up to the castle and sat at Al Mualim’s old desk with a piece of parchment and a quill.  He tried to quickly scrawl a note, screwing up several sheets in frustration, what could he possibly say?

He eventually found the words to put to paper and crept into their bedroom.  Altair was sleeping soundly and Malik faltered for a few seconds, was this what he really wanted to do?  He took a few deep breaths and composed himself, if he didn’t leave now things would just get worse.  He placed the letter on his pillow and left the castle, he mounted a horse and with tears sliding down his face, he rode into the night.

---

Altair awoke with a start, the early morning sun shone through the window onto his face and he rubbed his tired eyes as it had taken him a while to get back to sleep after Malik’s nightmare.  It had been happening more and more often as of late and it was beginning to worry Altair, Malik would never talk about them and he was becoming very distant.

Altair rolled over to check on his troubled lover, and panic rose within him when he noticed Malik was not there.  He noticed the sheet of paper Malik’s pillow and closed his eyes, this was not happening, it had to be a nightmare of his own.  He picked up the note and began reading;

“I’m not one to break promises and I don’t want to hurt you but I need to breathe.
There’s just no right way to say I need to move on.
At the end of it all you’re still my best friend but I can’t hide or lie to myself anymore.
It feels like I am just too close to love you.
There’s nothing else I can really say.
I’m going away to make a new life for myself, please don’t look for me.”

Altair kept reading the note over and over, hoping the words would change and that Malik had not left, eventually screwing it up and throwing it away.  A searing pain tightened his chest and he wanted to scream and cry like a child, how could Malik do this?

Altair stood up and quickly threw on his clothes, ready to go looking for his lover, but sat down on the bed again.  Where would he look?  The world is a massive place and Malik could be anywhere.  The master assassin put his face in his hands and wept silently, he had never felt pain like this before.  The sharpest sword couldn’t compare to this, it felt as if a part of him had just died.

---

“Master Altair!”  Altair looked up from his desk as one of the novice assassins ran up to him.  It had been at least six months since Malik had left, but Altair still hadn’t recovered.  His eyes were dark and his skin was pale through sleep deprivation and not eating properly, he was irritable but did his best not to be too harsh on other assassins.  

“What is it Kaarim?” He seemed a little afraid of Altair.  He was no older than twenty, but was also one of the more promising of the novice assassins, Altair saw a lot of himself in Kaarim, so was a little harder on him to make sure he didn’t become arrogant like he had.

“I received word from an informant that Malik may be in Jerusalem” Altair’s eyes widened and his breath caught.  Malik couldn’t possibly be in Jerusalem, that was way too obvious.

“You’re sure?” He stood up and made his way around the desk until he was face to face with Kaarim.  The novice assassin stuttered slightly.

“I-I cannot say for definite master, but the informant saw a man matching Malik’s description working at a stall in Jerusalem’s Middle District.”  Altair smiled and put his hand on Kaarim’s shoulder.

“Thankyou.  I’m going to Jerusalem to see for myself.  Tell Kabir that he is to be in charge until I get back.”  Kaarim nodded, turned and left.  Altair took a deep breath, hope causing butterflies to flutter in his torso, Jerusalem had been so obvious that he hadn’t even thought to check there.  He went to his bedroom where he kept his now rarely used weapons and gathered supplies for his trip.

---

It was early morning when Altair arrived in Jerusalem, he sat atop one of the many towers, using the viewpoint to take in his surroundings.  Memories of when Malik was in charge of the bureau filled his head, the insults, the day he was forgiven, the night he confessed to Malik.

He suddenly noticed movement in the city below, the vendors were beginning to head to their stalls.  Altair performed a leap of faith into a haystack nearby, he felt exhilarated, even though he wasn’t looking for a kill, he had missed the hunt.  He stuck to the shadows, keeping hidden to the best of his ability and started roaming the streets of the middle district.

It was reaching the end of trading hours and Altair was about to give up hope when he saw a basket stall at the end of a street just outside the border of the middle and poor district.  Altair’s breathing quickened as he pressed himself further into the shadows, it was definitely Malik, he was conversing with a customer and Altair would recognise his voice anywhere.

“Thankyou sir, you won’t be disappointed.” Malik finished the transaction and collected the last couple of baskets in his remaining arm and left the stall towards the poor district.  Altair stalked the older man, staying far enough away so as not to be detected but close enough to never lose sight of him.  He was constantly going over in his head what he was going to say to Malik, he just wanted to grab him and kiss him but they hadn’t seen each other in six months.  He wanted a proper explanation as to why Malik left without a word.

Malik ducked into a small hut and closed the door behind him, locking it.  Altair cursed under his breath, he shouldn’t have expected to breach Malik’s home so easily.  He quickly circled the building, looking for another entrance, he found there was an area at the back of the building where Malik kept the baskets he made for his stall, it was accessible by climbing on to the roof and jumping down.  Just as he did this, the back door opened and Altair scrambled to hide behind it as Malik came through to put his baskets down.  The master assassin slid around the door and into his ex-lover’s home, waiting for the man to come back in.

---

Malik placed his spare baskets on the floor in the storage area at the back of his house and sighed heavily.  He had missed Jerusalem, but had become increasingly lonely since he had left Masayaf, it’s difficult to make friends when you’re a freak with one arm.  He considered himself lucky that he had managed to set up a mildly successful stall so that he wouldn’t be homeless.  His mind wandered to Altair and how he was coping, maybe he had moved on.  Malik felt a pang of sadness at that thought but quickly shook it away, it was his own fault if Altair had found someone else.  

The nightmares had stopped since he left which was what he wanted, and all bitterness toward Altair had also gone, which just left a longing to be back with him.  Malik wondered if maybe he hadn’t needed to leave in the first place, if he had just talked to Altair about it they could have worked through it.  

“I need a drink” Malik mumbled to himself as he turned to go back into his home.  As soon as he passed through the door he knew he wasn’t alone, his hand hovered over the dagger he kept in his belt as he quickly scanned the room.  His eyes fell on a tall, dark figure emerging from the shadows.

“Hello Malik” His eyes widened and he felt his stomach drop, he stood and stared, completely dumbfounded about who was standing in front of him.

“What are you doing here?” he choked out almost inaudibly.

“To get answers, your note was not exactly informative” A wave of guilt washed over Malik and his eyes dropped to the floor.  Altair’s tone was cold and he didn’t look like he’d been coping well over the past few months.

“Can I get a drink before you start interrogating me?” Altair crossed his arms but made a gesture to go ahead.  Malik grabbed a bottle of wine from the shelf behind him as well as two glasses, offering one to Altair who accepted.  Malik downed his glass in a couple of gulps and poured himself another, he was going to need it.  “So what do you want to know?”

“Why did you leave?” Altair growled before taking a gulp of his own wine.

“There isn’t a simple answer to that question.”

“Then start talking. We have all night.” Altair snapped.  Malik flinched, he hadn’t heard this tone from Altair since Solomon’s Temple.  He knew he deserved it though, he just really didn’t know how to answer the question.  There was a deafening silence for a few minutes as Malik desperately tried to find the words he needed.  Altair then suddenly slammed his free hand on the table. “Why aren’t you answering me!?  Whatever was wrong we could have worked it out!  Not only did you leave me you deserted the assassins, I could kill you for that!”  

“Then kill me!” Malik screamed, throwing his glass on the floor.  It shattered spreading razor sharp shards far across the floor. “I’m sick of being a freak, I’m sick of the nightmares! I left because I was sick of going to bed every night with the man who killed my brother!  I thought I’d be happier if I just left it all behind and made a new life but I was wrong okay?  I’m worthless!  I was a useless assassin, I’m a useless stall vendor, I’m a useless person…”  He took the knife out of his robes and held it out for Altair to take. “So if you want to kill me, do it, you’d be doing me a favour!”  Malik barely had time to react as Altair slapped him across the face, causing him to drop the knife in shock.

“Don’t you ever talk about yourself that way” Altair snarled as he grabbed Malik by his shoulders and pushed him against the wall behind him.  “You were one of the best damn assassins in the brotherhood, arm or none.  You’re not a freak, you’re beautiful…”  Altair then leaned in close and Malik saw tears in his eyes as he whispered “And you’re not worthless, because you mean the world to me.”  Altair then pulled Malik close and kissed him hard, Malik felt tears fill his own eyes as he relaxed into the embrace and returned the kiss.  Altair broke the kiss and leaned his forehead against Malik’s, still gripping him tightly. “Don’t make me go back without you, I can’t live without you.”  Malik couldn’t answer and just began to sob.

Hours went by in silence as the two assassins just held each other basking in each other’s embrace and healing the wounds the last few months had caused them.  Altair broke the silence with a whisper.

“I love you, Malik Al Sayf, and no amount of time apart will ever change that.” Malik had to try not to start crying again.

“I love you too Altair… Let’s go home.”