Synopsis: Every toy is broken eventually and this one was ready to break.
Toys
They'd ruined him.
They'd taken a teenager with a bright future and moulded him into a spy walking into the shadow of death.
They'd turned him from a student to a weapon.
Like a parasite they'd slowly sapped all the family and life he had and when he realised it was too late - he was too far in and he'd only scratched the surface.
He'd dived deeper mixing with assassins and traitors not knowing that it was his home.
He didn't see the net until he'd tried to get out.
He was a toy, a pawn in the endless war between MI6 and Scorpia. It was not simply good and bad - Alex had begun to learn that just because they had good intentions didn't mean they were inherently good. Look what they'd done to him.
They had made him become whatever they needed and they had needed a weapon, now they had a perfect one.
Well, not exactly. Like every toy there was cracks appearing; small deficiencies like his attempts to get away and the nightmares that haunted his sleep. Not to mention the betrayals he'd committed.
Still time and time again he jumped through hoops for them, performing circus tricks for the hope of a normal life. He still hadn't given up hope even though he knew it was over. They'd locked the gates and thrown away the key.
Hope didn't make a damn difference, it just made it hurt more.
Blunt would sit on his desk playing with his toy soldiers and lives.
Jones would have minty fresh breath as she sent men to their deaths - it wouldn't make a difference, Alex couldn't change a thing.
He could die though.
Then they'd find a new Alex and replace him. Another poor kid's life ruined.
Better to live and hope for better.
He doubted he would live much longer though - the scars weren't just skin deep anymore, the cuts were getting inside, they were hurting and his organs were taking the toll.
He'd scared off eight physiatrists who'd tried their luck with fixing him. He was already permenantly damaged.
His heartbeat was in a constant eratic samba of fear because of the situations he was in and he just lived off the adrenaline.
They'd made him kill. He wasn't any different from the people he had killed - he just did a better job.
He was a toy. One of Blunt's toy spies.
But every toy breaks eventually and Alex was ready to snap.