Each of these will stand alone, with warnings, pairings, and notes in the heading.
Title: cat in a cage
Disclaimer: not my characters.
Warnings: none
Pairings: none
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 325
Point of view: third
Alec hates being caged. He hated it as 494, back at Manticore, when he slept in a concrete box like all the X5s. He was luckier than Max, though—he wasn't alone. Listening to the others breathe, he could forget the walls.
Cats are solitary creatures, but some are more social than others. Alec doesn't know what's in his cocktail, which of the great predators he's got swimming in his blood, but he hates small spaces. He hid it at Manticore, a weakness he couldn't let the handlers know about. After the Berrisford debacle, after 493's madness—no. Any more problems and he'd be used for spare parts.
He's out now, though. He's free and his own man. He can go where he wants, when he wants; he can do what he wants.
And then White shoves him in a cage. Alec wakes already feeling trapped and wishes he had claws to sink into his captor's belly. He snarls low in his throat, but he is an actor. He'll play White long enough to get away and then he'll make a tactical retreat.
And then he's trapped by an explosive in his neck. He wants to scream and rip White apart, but even a tiger(is he part tiger?) can't take on a dozen guns and come out alive.
Alec survives, though. He always survives. Max hates him, but he looks like her dead brother, so he doesn't expect that to change.
Leave, the cat whispers. New territory.
And he should, he knows. What appeal does Seattle have? Max and White, and memories of Rachel. No reason to stay.
But he doesn't leave. Only Normal seems to actually like him, but he refuses to flee. He can go where he wants, when he wants, and he won't be chased away.
He's not caged anymore. The cat grumbles, Stupid cub, but Alec is determined to see this through. He's free. It's his choice now. And he chooses to stay.