Alex had always known he had practically nothing in common with the other students at school since his first day two years ago. He was perfectly at ease with his weirdness. There were others who were immigrants, that were orphans who had been adopted, some had medical conditions and some were in therapy. There was even another in the year above, who had tried to kill herself. Despite ticking all those boxes, Alex was not bullied; strangely most of his class treated him like a sort of special needs project crossed with a lucky mascot. His scarily protective older brother thought that was unreal, that super scary ex-spy boy was mothered by even the wrestling team. High School in Georgetown had turned out to be an easy ride.

The Sasha persona was a quiet introvert, with odd touches of mania when out of his comfort zone. Joe was a perfect balance of cool in his own skin, geek and outcast. Both of them had with better than predicted grade point average considering their bad boy reputation at fourteen. Joe still spent more hours hacking than studying and Alex was not that bothered about school in general to try hard at either studying or fitting in.

Alex had almost forgotten how shit life could be, when everything went south on a seriously uncool Thursday. Everything had been normal, considering his after-school intern position with a bunch of do-good lawyers working on pro-bono cases for all comers. A position gained from Mimi's network of contacts. His fluency in six languages, meant he occasionally did interviews with immigrants, but most Thursdays he filed, answered the phone and did boring repetitive office work between 3 and 8. Today was no different as he sat and stuck labels on envelopes to various sponsors and affiliates. Only three volunteers regularly braving the death by boredom in the name of civil liberties.

Two uniformed police officers had arrived, looking for some poor soul on this firm's books. From leaning over his never ending pile of dull correspondence, Alex pushed his chair over to Kayla's desk. The pair planning on enjoying a ring side view of Ivy League educated legal team versus donut eating cops. If he had know there was going to be entertainment, he'd have made popcorn.

As the resulting impasse played out over client confidentiality, Alex's phone vibrated and he exited to the privacy of the rear alley, a spot normally only occupied by the smokers on staff. An archive box was used to prop the fire door open, Alex's mood had lifted as his caller was his boyfriend. "Hey, how's life in Boston, beautiful?". Paul had graduated High School last year and was a freshman at MIT, with more than an outside chance of being finishing his PhD before Alex finished his own planned Nursing training.

There was a dramatic prolonged pause before Paul Roscoe began his practiced dear John speech, "Babe, I can't make it to your prom. Schedule clash with the frat."

Ever the realist, the young man noted there were no endearments for him from his lover. "Sure thing, its gets me out of needing a tux anyway." The unsettling feeling of impending rejection made Alex slump back against the dumpster, waiting for his assumption to be confirmed.

After a cough and another pause, Paul continued, "Its just, well, you're going to Mexico this summer 'volunteering'" The last word sneered as helping out at a medical drop in centre in the slums was the last thing on earth the heir of billions would do. "Its just our thing, dating, its not practical considering I'll be in San Jose as a company intern. It was fun while we were both at school, but we have different life goals. You with MSF or UNICEF, whatever; and me, well, living in the real world."

Alex smiled ruefully, looking at the pile of cigarette stubs, wishing he was smoking at this precise moment and he made the decision not to ask the real question on his mind about the person who had replaced him in Paul's affections. "Sure. Different goals. That sounds nice and clinical." It made sense as during his last visit to New York for New Years, Paul had been distant and standoffish when they went out, but had been his usual hug bug and sex god at home. The big picture was that internship was Paul's stepping stone to being full board member at 21 and fitting in with the high society, the ideal of normal and very much staying in the closet. Someone at college was OK with a secret relationship, whereas Alex was out and proud at home and at school.

Paul then continued on to his big finish, "You have always been cool about an open relationship in the past, only you don't date or see people. College is about having fun. Have some fun, Al. Pining for me is not living. Its been great. We'll still be friends. Its just I've moved on. You need to as well."

Alex moved into the building and steeled himself for the big goodbye. "Yeah, it was good, but you've grown out of your flirtation with being queer, I guess. Doesn't fit in with your frat buddies, does it?" Rather than hear excuses, Alex switch off his phone. Now there was no need to conform to any nice boundaries or the plan to be as normal as possible. Plan B had always been at the back of Alex's mind, as Plan A had been to get well, finish school and try to be happy. Plan B was being the full on anti-government activist. The young volunteer knew he had been expecting Paul's need to conform would win over his teenage infatuation. It had never been about promises of forever, but it still left a hole in his life. Trust, great sex and companionship had been enough to keep Alex happy. Maybe he just had very low expectations. He had no wish to keep a stiff upper lip, so he went to straight to Kayla and spilled the beans on his new status as single. "I'm done. FYI, Paul's just dumped me, so I'm off to see my BFF Lola to eat ice cream and chocolate till I puke."

…

Lola Hernadez had done her set at Chez Regina. She was a delivery worker by day and was a fabulous star of lip synching three nights a week. Of the guys here, she alone remained female 24/7, as she was in transition. It would take her another four to six years to afford surgery, but she had never been Laurence. It had been Sasha who had encouraged her to be true to herself. School had been less than impressed with her stance in her senior year, but being different and standing out from the crowd had given her inner steel. Something she needed in spades dealing with the more shitty comments at work and on the street. In the claustrophobically small dressing room, the last person she expected to drop by, was her tall, skinny and almost terminally shy friend from school. Sasha had the look of desperation and hurt carved on his handsome face. He had arrived with a full grocery bag. "Hi, hun? What's up?" She knew her friend's schedule and Sasha was normally three blocks over being a perfect image of a young Democrat volunteer, making his mom proud until 8, when they usually met up for coffee and donuts to moan about how boring work was. Her friend was 45 minutes early.

"Paul phoned. He's got new life goals and is free to fuck everyone at MIT and not feel guilty. So, I've bought four tubs of Ben and Jerry's, three boxes of Belgian truffles and a box of triple chocolate chip cookies."

"Oh, babe. I hate being right about a guy, but he was a friend with benefits; love was never on his agenda."

"Never on mine either." Paul had been one of the few people the former spy could trust and be himself with. Life with Sarov had left him too broken to expect anyone to love him without a huge amount of emotional blackmail and threats of beatings involved. "Paul was the one to say the love word to me, he wanted a relationship, the one to want more than fucking. Guess being popular at a top fraternity means you need to ditch your freak of a boyfriend." Alex accepted the hug from the only person he had connected with a High School, as he had told Lola just how bad things had been in Russia. Without mentioning anything spooky, the chief organiser of the very small LGBTQ society had fully empathised with an outsider, used to being ostracised by friends, beaten and surviving serial stays in clinic caused by hiding one's sexuality in a country where gay equated with sexual deviant.

…..

Lola was spread out snoring on Alex's bed. The sleepover had involved watching Alex's favourite movie, the outrageously bad and very funny Undercover Blues. Popcorn, ice-cream and cookies had been eaten; though the chocolate was currently hidden with Alex's journals for future consumption. It was 4AM and Alex couldn't sleep so was listening to the BBC World Service through earphones, not music, art nor anything worthy, but a current affairs panel discussion. Then Alex heard the cold, nasally, bland tones of Alan Blunt discussing the recent arrest of a terrorist cell in East London and the fine work of GCHQ, Special Branch and MI5. The promised retirement of that child-abusing bastard had not lasted two years as the man was now a security adviser for the shadow cabinet. Alex made it into the bathroom to puke and then knew it would take more than brushing that bastard's abuse of power under the rug to keep that man retired in obscurity and without allies. Alex had been too preoccupied playing the normal teenager, but as he stood looking in the mirror after washing his mouth out; there was the reflection of the kid who had been a complacent puppet, play acting happy families with that psycho Sarov.

There was blood on his arms, the floor, the teenager slumped down beside the towel rail. There was the proof he had broken every rule in the book as he crashed back into reality and threw the broken razor in the bin, howling at his own folly. The cuts were shallow, but a testament to the fact the hurt, betrayal and confusion caused by Blunt was all still under the surface, unresolved. He tried to ignore the shouts from the hall from his family and his best friend. He wanted to be alone to process this complete loss of control, when the lock broke and Charlie stumbled in.

The big man's presence softened to open body language as he surveyed the damage to his son. "Oh, Sasha. Its Ok. You remember the emergency action plan. Mom's gonna call Luke. It'll be a stay at the clinic we visited. Voluntary, not forced. Can you manage that?"

Alex nodded, shivering. He let his dad get the first aid kit and bandage his arms. "Nothing too serious. A trip to the emergency room first though. I'll take you."

The general looked at his wife, "I'll get Sasha sorted. Joe sort out breakfast for Lola and take her to work. Mimi darling, Joe, I'll keep you in the loop once we get the emergency room sorted and transfer over to Middle River." Family came first for the Canterbury's, the General would take emergency leave and retire if needed. They had adopted Sasha knowing it would mean long term care and support, not just fostering. The kid had been let down too often, used and abandoned. He and Mimi had well rehearsed back up plans for all emergencies. Joe just nodded as he comforted Lola, who was as shocked as he was at this incident of extreme self harm.

….

Joe sat staring at his bagel and Lola sipped her coffee. She noted time was going oh so very slowly this morning.

"So, like Sasha has a history of this, as you know. Only the blacking out bit is new, but not unexpected. Its been on the cards that he has alters, a personality disorder. The trauma before, means he moulds himself to be neutral. I think he's most comfortable like that, only things happen that mean he can't keep in control, the nice mask slips. He hates himself in those moments for being weak. He is not suicidal, just complicated." The dark haired teenager wished more than anything he could make everything right for his brother, but breaking up with that selfish oaf Roscoe was probably for the best in the long run. "I have a game plan. I'll get all our friends to rally round. We expected a bump anyway considering graduation and me going to college. Sasha has a year out to chill and consider his options. We are going to weather this. Don't worry. It'll be OK."