A/N: This was mostly inspired by a request over on the kinkmeme. Someone was wondering what would have happened if Cross hadn't been consumed by the Supreme Hunter. The first few paragraphs were written before I had any idea where the fic was going, so it might be a little disjointed.
He'd been too distracted at first to notice, his mind still trying to sift through Randall's memories, all of them jumbled and out of order, random voices whispering in his mind as he clutched his forehead, eyes closed. It was easy to forget Cross was even there, still standing behind him, hands planted on his hips as he watched, expression grim.
Randall picks up what looks absurdly like a butcher's knife, but not quite out-of-place in the makeshift operating room. His arm is spurting blood from the bite- the girl's bite, the infected girl's bite- and he has no time to hesitate. He raises the knife, his heart skipping a beat, but there is no other choice- the girl watches him, serenely, her mouth dripping red- and he brings it down, hard, the blade cutting easily through his own flesh.
He heard footsteps, vaguely, but couldn't tell if they were in his mind or not. He shook his head, images of a bloody stump flashing before his eyes, heavy breathing in his ears, a baby's pitiful cries- Cross stepped into his field of vision, head slightly cocked, peering at him like a child watching ants on the sidewalk. Alex shook his head again and the onslaught of memories dimmed, pushed to the back of his mind- still there, always there, but manageable.
"Are you okay, Mercer?" Cross asked, and Alex ignored him, walking over to the missile. He could almost feel Cross tense up, the air between them somehow changing; and he knew, once and for all, exactly how the man saw him. He raised his hand, shaking slightly, and input the codes to disarm the missile.
Cross's radio was on, picking up the chatter of Blackwatch soldiers and Marines on deck and around the city. Cross watched him closely, but something was different- the way the Captain looked at him, the way he carried himself around Alex, the way his hand was never too far from his taser. Cross had reason enough to be uneasy around him, though they'd shared the same goals, but Alex wasn't stupid enough to believe the man trusted him, and vice versa.
But the situation was different now, and he wondered exactly when things had begun to shift, exactly when Cross had let up with his snide remarks, verbally prodding any exposed opening he could find, attempting to control the uncontrollable through words alone. Alex had only gone along with him out of a lack of options, and shared experience hadn't changed his opinion of the other man much: Cross was an arrogant jackass, self-serving to the end. Why Alex had stepped in to save him... he would never know.
Cross is pacing while Blackwatch soldiers surround the compound, firing into the mob of infected outside the chainlink fencing. The Captain glances around, first to Randall, then to his men, giving the occasional order with the wave of a gloved hand. His face was composed, but his movements were anxious; short steps in one direction, then another, all the while fingering the grenade launcher mounted on his left arm, impatiently. Randall pulls him in and gives him orders, departing on the chopper, and Alex's clawed hands curl into the cement as he watches his quarry escape, watches Cross let him escape. Nevermind the plan- fuck the plan- he wanted to do this now, to end this, to get his answers once and for all...
A soft growl interrupts him, and he only just manages to turn his head before something heavy swipes at him, sending him flying from the edge of the building. He lands heavily in the sea of infected, crushing the unlucky ones in his path. The rest jump on him, overgrown fingernails trying to dig into his flesh, flesh that is rapidly turning to hardened armor. Another crash from behind, frantic shouts from the soldiers, and he looks up to see the beast towering over him.
"Mercer?" The Captain was standing behind him now, close- too close. Alex bared his teeth a little at being interrupted, but this was no time for reminiscing, really. He looked at Cross, noting the man's pale face, sensing the way his heart was beating a little too quickly. Chalk it up to the situation, maybe- the man had just committed mutiny in the worst way. "Did you disarm the bomb?"
Alex glanced down as his hand, long fingers still resting lightly on the keypad. The countdown had stopped at 4:32:21, green digits flickering on the screen in idleness. He had saved Manhattan- essentially- so why didn't he feel happy?
The beast threw itself at him, faster than he would have expected for a creature of its size. He rolled out of the way, barely missing the crude blade that was the monster's arm, throwing infected out of his way as he put distance between himself and it. The monster roared, taking another swipe as his retreating back, then seemed to change focus. It lumbered toward the fence, the soldiers firing uselessly as it reached out and tore it down, metal warping and snapping in its grasp. Cross was firing at it now, too- a grenade detonated in its face, melting the skin there, exposing rows of incongruously human-like teeth in its jaw. Then, the flesh knitted back together, and Cross began to look worried for the first time.
He could hear footsteps above, on deck. Christ, it sounded like the whole Army was up there, along with a full complement of gunships. He tilted his head in question at Cross. The man only stared grimly back at him.
The monster was closing in- ignoring Alex, brushing him away when he leapt at it, even as his blade arm dug into its torso, snapping ribs, slicing through internal organs; it all healed immediately, much like himself- too much like himself. This was the same monster he had fought in the Hive, had to be. But instead of fighting Alex this time, it was focused on Cross, and that wouldn't do.
'Come on!" he growled, running up the creature's back, digging his now-clawed hands into its thick, pinkish skin. The creature shook itself in a vain attempt at dislodging him, giving Cross a split-second to dash away, out of its reach. Alex caught his eye, only for a moment, and what he saw there was indecipherable. Then Cross was firing grenades into the creature's face, one of them taking him full in the chest, throwing him back into the mob.
"What's going on?" Alex muttered, shaking is head, pushing his hood down to expose face and matted brown hair; he couldn't keep doing this, he had to clear his mind. Cross was up to something- not entirely unexpected, but as usual not something he'd given much thought to. Being betrayed was nothing new to him, after Karen, but this- this didn't feel right. He had counted Cross as an ally, however grudgingly, however much of an asshole he was, this just didn't feel right.
Cross stepped up beside him, examining the console, probably to confirm to himself that the bomb had been disabled. Then, he sighed, running a hand over his head, slicking back a few stray strands of dark hair that had fallen out of place. Alex had never seen him make such a casual gesture before. It was wrong.
"Get out of the way, damn it!" Alex's blade arm swept through the crowd, dismembering any infected stupid enough to get in his way. He leapt onto a truck to survey the scene. The monster had taken out most of the soldiers, with the aide of countless infected swarming around it, and Cross was backed up almost to the far wall of the helipad. The monster was closing in, and it was after Cross- for whatever reason, it wanted him and him alone. Alex growled; he couldn't let that happen.
He leaped over the remains of the fence, letting his armor melt away to give him more speed. The creature was reaching out- Cross was bringing up the taser, his teeth grit in a snarl- and Alex collided with the creature, jarring it, making it stumble. He latched on to its neck and wrenched it back with all his might, throwing it off balance. It crashed against the wall, cracking it and throwing up chunks of cement, and Alex held on tight.
"Did you get your answers, Mercer?"
The soldiers were running somewhere, it sounded like a stampede. Jesus, what was going on? He looked at Cross, and the man just looked tiredly back at him, arms folded over his chest.
"I guess," he replied, trying to focus on the sounds from above. Too many things were happening at once, too many thoughts and voices in his head; he just couldn't focus, especially not with Cross looking at him like that. The expression was difficult to read; he'd only seen Cross look at him that way once before. What- something crashed behind him, and he whirled around to see Blackwatch soldiers, heavy boots echoing off the steel walls around them, mechanical voices shouting orders through the gasmasks.
"I'm sorry, Mercer," Cross said, and before he could react, something hit him in the back of the neck, digging in, sharp and burning. He reeled away, tearing the needle from his skin, already feeling the effects of the drug. "I do feel sorry for you... but I can't let you walk away from this."
"You-" Alex rasped, trying to keep his eyes open. He stumbled into the cart holding the missile, sending it wheeling away as he fell to his knees, eyes blurring. The soldiers were closing in.
Alex brought his blade arm down, cutting through the monster's spine, putting his whole body into it. The monster roared, a wet, choking roar, blood spraying from its jaws. It lurched, hit the wall again, and this time the cement shattered, exposing steel reinforcements beneath, and the water of the bay churning below. Alex's blade came down again, and again, blood flying, covering everything around them, and then they were falling. He let go, clinging to the remains of the wall, and the creature's momentum carried it through, impaling it on the bars, and finally into the water. It flailed, fixing dimming eyes on Alex's as it began to sink, far too dense to swim, oily blood staining the water reddish black. Then, it was gone.
"I- Cross-" he slurred, trying to shift into armor. His senses were leaving him- sight, sound- until he was alone in the darkness of himself. He fell to the floor, face impacting with a thud, splitting a lip that healed almost instantly, leaving behind a drop of smeared blood. With effort, he rolled himself onto his back. Someone was standing above him, silhouetted against the lights.
"Mercer!" Cross walked over to him, warily; the infected were still coming, but the few of his men still standing were keeping them away. Nobody seemed to question as Cross looked down into the water, then back at Alex. Alex dropped down beside him, bladed arm melting back to normal.
"You- you saved my life, Mercer." Cross seemed distracted somehow, but his astonishment was obvious. He looked up at Alex with that unreadable expression, brow furrowed, then back to the infected horde closing in on them. "Thank you," he said at last, then turned away from him to focus on the walkers.
That expression, Alex thought. That damned expression. He knew what it was, now. He finally realized, watching the figure standing above him, blurred vision failing fast. He knew.
Cross had looked at him, guiltily, then turned his back and walked away.