Disclaimer: I don't own it. Duh.
Summary: All Alex wanted was to do something for himself for once in his life. MI6 wouldn't even let him do that. The world was weighing down on him, as heavy as stone. Lots of K-Unit and Yassen… Oneshot.
Recommended Listening: The Stone by Dave Matthews Band (the lyrics at the beginning and end are also from this song)… right now I'm listening to a live acoustic version of just Dave playing on Charlie Rose, if anyone cares…
Author's Note: Well, I hope this is okay - it's a be haphazard, and I doubt people will read it but it's the start of my Alex Rider career :). I know it's not my best work, don't worry... I'll try to be more impressive in the future. This isn't specifically intended to be Alex/Yassen slash, but I think you could read it that way if you wanted.
As Heavy as Stone
I've this creeping
Suspicion that things here are not as they seem
Reassure me
Why do I feel as if I'm in too deep?
Now I've been praying, for some way to show them
I'm not what they see
Yes, I have done wrong
But what I did I thought needed be done, I swear
Alex felt sick. He felt so, so sick, and dizzy, and a second later he was being sick, all over the floor, and he stumbled backwards a bit, reaching out to hold onto something and so tired that he didn't hear the swears echoing around him.
"Jesus Christ, Cub!"
"Fuck, kid, are you alright?"
"Leave me alone," Alex moaned, his voice raspy. He shuts his eyes tight, wishing all of the uniformed men would go away. They did the opposite, and suddenly there was a man supporting him, holding his nearly limp body. Alex tried to struggle, but he wasn't nearly strong enough so instead he moaned, "Go away, will you?"
The man didn't listen, and lead him over to what seemed to be a bed. Alex sat down, immediately taking stock of his injuries, still with his eyes shut. Numerous bruises and cuts, bruised if not broken ribs, broken wrist, and the bullet wounds. Those he could feel the most – two had grazed his back, one was lodged in his hand, and the last had hit his shoulder.
He opened his eyes to see roughly ten men surrounding him, and he quickly counted to realize there were in fact nine. Flinching away, he scrambled back as far as he could onto the bed so his back pressed against cold stone. Be strong, he reminded himself, be tough. Be weak later.
"Get away from me," he told them steadily, his voice laced with pain.
"Cub," a voice tried, and Alex's sharp eyes found the man and realized with a start it was Snake from his old SAS unit, "you need medical treatment, now."
"I mean it," he told them coldly. "Back up." No one moved. "Now."
And they did, slowly so that Alex could breathe again and take a look around the room. He was still dizzy, and it tilted slightly, but it was better now that the SAS men weren't looming over him. They were in a cell, he realized, which explained the stone. There were three cots in the room, one on each wall, and a medical kit on the floor, along with a bucket of water and blankets.
Shutting his eyes, Alex tried to remember what had happened.
First, there had been the familiar call to Blunt's office. They had needed him again, this time to lead teams of SAS soldiers into Malagosto, which had seemed like a monumentally bad idea to him. But since when had Alex's opinions mattered? Nevertheless, he had been right. Alex could still see the SAS men being gunned down by the obviously prepared Scorpia men.
And that had only been the beginning. Next had come the torture, where a cruel, mutilated man shot his shoulder and had his men beat Alex for information the boy didn't have. And he could do nothing but curl up in a ball and pray for it to stop. Then there had been Walker – Alex's former fellow trainee at Malagosto – who had for some reason had let Alex escape (albeit with several bullet wounds), whispering only two words into Alex's ear, words that sent Alex's head spinning.
Those words made unbelievable pain and hope surge through him at the same time, and Alex was surprised but at the same time not at all surprised. And all of his mulling over Walker's words and whether they were true had gotten him captured again, and put in the cell.
Opening his eyes and glancing around at the SAS soldiers in the cell with him, he wondered if they were the only survivors.
He leaned over and retched again.
"What did they do to you?"
Alex looked up to see a familiar face, Wolf's face, to be exact. He didn't seem to have any injuries which would be surprising except that Alex knew that K-Unit had been given the specific task of keeping Alex alive – and Alex had been told to stay in the back until they were sure it was safe enough for him to leave.
"What do you think they did?" Alex croaked, and Wolf winced. Wolf stared to say something else, but Alex's eyes were already drooping – from tiredness or loss of blood, he didn't know.
And then he was asleep.
------
There was noise, and Alex woke up with a start, only to find all of the SAS men backing away from the jail cell door, because there were five men with guns outside it. And in front of them was Yassen Gregorovich, who was calmly saying, "Stand against that wall, and don't move, otherwise you will die."
"Cub, come on," Eagle told him in a strangely gentle voice from his place on the wall, knowing it was useless to try to go over and help him. Alex didn't respond, he just stared at Yassen as the experience assassin walked unflinchingly into the cell, walking over to the medical kit, water, and blankets.
"Don't hurt the kid."
Alex's head snapped around and he's eyes found Wolf, who was standing proud and tall with his arms crossed. Alex hadn't ever seen a man look so stately and terrifying while captured, but in a way it made sense because it was Wolf, after all.
Yassen, however, wasn't intimidated. He barely even spared Wolf a glance, and simply asked Alex, "Can you walk, or do I have to have someone carry you?"
Alex stood up, a bit wobbly but he managed to take slow, measured steps towards Yassen, who nodded his approval.
The assassin followed Alex out of the cell and bolted it behind him, but he hardly noticed because all of his focus was on staying upright. Alex was certain he wouldn't be able to walk much farther, but luckily the destination Yassen had in mind was just the room next to the cell.
As soon as Alex walked into the well-lit room that was about the size of his bedroom, he collapsed on the cot pushed up against the wall. He noticed a chair across the room, on which perched a few bottles of water, a medicine kit, and a blanket.
Wordlessly, Yassen tossed the blanket to Alex and then carried the other two items over. Yassen bent down on his knees in front of Alex, ignoring the way the boy was swaying slightly as he forced himself into the sitting position. Alex stared at the blanket for a moment before returning his gaze to Yassen, who was studying the medicine kit and pulling random things out of it.
"So, Walker wasn't lying."
"No," Yassen said, not pausing in his work, "he wasn't."
"He's on you're side?" Alex asked, his voice sounding strangely calm even to his own ears.
"Yes – I was the one that recruited him, and therefore he always held me in a bit higher esteem than everyone else. And after Scorpia started to crumble, well…"
"So, you're not with Scorpia."
"Not anymore."
"Then whose side are you on?"
"I think you'll find, Alex, that there aren't really 'sides'. There are instead the people who want you dead, and the people who want you alive. I'm in the latter group when it comes to you, and that's really all you can ask for."
Alex didn't reply, and instead chose to glance around the room. They were alone – the men with the guns had stayed outside, he noted, and he wondered why.
He turned back to Yassen, who was carefully inspecting Alex's hand. Yassen sighed, asking, "Who did this to you?"
"Walker." Alex shrugged. "He had to, to make it believable that he was trying to shoot me when I escaped. The shoulder was the other guy – the one in charge."
"His name is Milton; at least, that's what he's known as. Not a bad guy, when he's not after you," Yassen commented. He carefully took gauze and Alex knew he was going to try to bandage up his hand. Alex looked up so he wouldn't have to watch – the pain was easier to ignore that way.
"No kidding," he muttered, gritting his teeth as Yassen put some sort of cream on his bloody-crusted hand.
Yassen worked in silence for a few minutes before continuing talking calmly, telling Alex, "I'm going to bandage this up because you'll likely be using your hand despite the bullet wound, but your shoulder will take too much time. We'll get you to a doctor."
Alex nodded. He was silent as Yassen worked; he knew if he opened his mouth at all he'd cry out in pure pain.
When Yassen had finally finished, however, Alex bit back the pain and asked, "What's the plan?"
"Get you out of here," Yassen said simply, "and the rest of my people, before this place is demolished."
"When will that happen?"
"Two in the morning – that gives us an hour."
"I hope you have a very fast car."
Yassen's lip quirked as he handed Alex a water bottle, but all he said was, "Being an assassin pays well."
Alex didn't need telling – he downed all of the water bottle before following Yassen out the door. He was still a bit wobbly, but the water had helped and so had being able to sit down for a good fifteen to twenty minutes.
The SAS soldiers were still in the cell, watching. Alex expected Yassen to do something, but the older man didn't even acknowledge the prisoners. He simply took a gun from one of the guards and a small backpack from another. He turned to Alex and gestured for the boy to follow him down the dimly lit hallway.
"Wait," Alex hesitated, glancing at the SAS soldiers. "Don't – don't just leave them here. I don't want them to die."
Yassen gave him a slightly incredulous look, raising an eyebrow. He didn't seem to like the idea very much.
"Besides," Alex tried again, trying to sound reasonable, "Scorpia will suspect you if I'm the only person let out. If all of us escape, the government can be blamed."
Yassen sighed, sending a disparaging look towards the men, before telling Alex coolly, "They'll take the other direction – there are too many to travel with us."
"Okay," Alex turned to the SAS soldiers, who were still behind bars. "You guys will go to the left – at the end of the hallway go left and then your next right, and after that you're on the main level. After that, I don't know where the exit is. Go quietly, and if you get caught keep your mouths shut. And it's in your best interests if you get out in less than an hour."
"And what are you doing?" Wolf challenged, his eyes darting from Alex to the assassin. His gaze hardened. "Don't think you have to sacrifice yourselves for us."
"Why would I do anything for you?" Alex asked a bit coldly, and this seems to stump Wolf. More quietly, Alex added, "I'm doing this for me – for the first time in a long time, I'm doing something for myself."
"He's an assassin – you can't trust him."
"I don't fucking care what you think. You don't get it."
And with that, Alex nodded at Yassen, who swiftly unlocked the cell the soldiers were in and told them calmly, "If you follow us, you'll die."
"Cub…"
Alex didn't say anything, he just followed Yassen away.
------
"This is for you, should you need it," Yassen told him calmly, handing Alex the gun he had obtained from the guard. "I already have one."
"I doubt I will use it," Alex warned him, and Yassen nodded to show he understood.
Their exit from the building – apparently it was actually a dilapidated mansion in the middle of the woods – was swift and problem-free. That was enough to put Alex a little on edge. Around him, things had a habit of never going right. Maybe Yassen just had astronomically good luck, he considered.
"The car is this way," Yassen told him calmly as soon as they had climbed out of the basement window. They were at the edge of the house and in view of several patrol men, but the darkness covered them until they could reach the forested area surrounding the house. "We'll fight through the woods, but we'll reach the road as far away from the entrance gates as possible."
"Okay," Alex gasped in pain as a branch raked against his incredibly sensitive shoulder.
"The brush is the worst right here – you see, it's already better."
Yassen was right – the underbrush was thinning. All of the trees were pine, and their branches were higher up. It soon became much easier to walk and avoid potentially painful situations.
"Thanks," Alex told him quietly. "For everything."
Yassen was silent for a moment before replying, "Your father would've wanted me to."
"You're not mad at him?" Alex asked – he didn't want to provoke Yassen or make the man change his might, but Alex was curious nevertheless.
Yassen pondered this before saying thoughtfully, "We both did what we had to do, Alex – I can't begrudge him for that. Besides, whether he was on my side or not, the man had plenty of opportunities where he could've killed me or let me die, and yet here I am."
"Do you miss him?"
"Of course I do." Yassen's voice was slightly surprised, as if it should've been obvious.
"I don't," Alex admitted. "You can't miss what you never had, I guess."
Yassen stopped and turned around so quickly that Alex almost ran into him. The man stared down at him and said matter-of-factly, "Yes, you can."
They were silent until they reached the car.
The car was as black as the night, which explained why Alex couldn't tell anything else about it. He shrugged and got in the passenger seat, buckling his seatbelt with difficulty.
"You're okay with me coming with you?" Alex asked, as if for verification.
Yassen pressed his foot down on the gas and said, "Do you want to come?"
"Amazingly enough," Alex admitted, "that's what I want more than anything else."
"Then, yes, I'd like you to come." Yassen kept his eyes on the road as he said, "I like you, Alex, no matter what you might think. Besides that, you're a very good spy, and you also deserve a lot more of a say in your life than MI6 gives you."
Alex was too moved and thankful and many other things to say anything, but Yassen seemed to understand.
Finally, Alex swallowed the lump in his throat and asked, "Where are Walker and the rest of them?"
"There were several routes my people took – we all have a rendezvous point a fair distance away to be safe," Yassen informed him, answering his question and still being vague at the same time.
"That's good," Alex responded. He fought back a yawn.
He could feel that familiar feeling of uttermost fatigue wash over him – his eyelids were heavier than ever, and he started seeing double. Alex tried to stay awake, not wanting to be weak in front of Yassen, which was kind of preposterous seeing as he couldn't get much vulnerable than he already was.
Despite Alex's best efforts, Yassen noticed.
"It's fine, Alex," Yassen told him gently. "You're tired. Go to sleep."
Alex tried to fight his drooping eyes, but for the second time he couldn't help it and fell asleep.
-----
When Alex woke up, he was not where he had fallen asleep.
To his astonishment, he found himself in a hospital bed with K-Unit surrounding him. He was instantly alert, sitting up and glancing around quickly. His former teammates seemed shocked at his behavior, but Alex didn't see what was so shocking about it.
"It's okay, Cub," Wolf says in the gentlest voice Alex had ever heard him use. "You're safe now."
"What are you doing here?" Alex asked bluntly. Panic started to spread through his veins like fire – Yassen was nowhere to be seen, K-Unit was with him, and pain was searing through his entire body.
"We followed you, of course," Eagle said, as if it were obvious. Fox's replacement grunted in agreement – Alex had forgotten his name.
"Why?" Alex asked, and everyone looked alarmed at the despair in his voice. "Why would you do that?"
"Don't be a martyr, Cub," Wolf snapped.
Then Snake said reasonably. "We weren't going to just leave you in danger like that. Give us some credit. Gregorovich is in custody at the MI6 headquarters, due to be moved to a more secure place in a few days – as soon as they can set up a safe and foolproof way of transporting him."
"And," Eagle added brightly, "you'll be out of the hospital by tomorrow. You've been out for awhile, you know."
Alex stared at the four proud members of K-Unit that had just successfully ruined his life, though they didn't know it. Alex found it kind of ironic – they had been so bent on making his life hell while he was training with them, and now they finally accomplished it the only time the were trying to be good to him.
Alex gave them all one last look before ignoring the throbbing pain and turning over onto his side away from the unit.
He couldn't stand to look at them.
------
The holding chambers in the MI6 headquarters were nicer than the one Alex had been in, but they were also much more protected. Alex took out the tranquilizer dart gun that he had snatched from Smithers and quickly took out the three patrolling guards, as he had done with the two guards monitoring the security cameras.
That done, Alex knew he only had thirty minutes before the change of guard. Hastily, he darted over to the door that had two of the four guards at it. Dragging one of the bodies up, he used the man's fingerprint to verify his "identity", and with a small click the door opened. Alex carefully put the limp guard back down and slipped into the room, not at all surprised to find Yassen sitting in there calmly.
They stared at each other for a long moment before Alex said, "You only have about twenty-five minutes before the change of guard."
"Right," Yassen said serenely, standing up with some difficulty, but not much. Alex watched as the man looked into his eyes and said, "Thank you."
"You did the same for me," Alex replied, trying to shrug it off.
"You can't come with me, you know," Yassen told him gently, and although Alex already knew, it was a blow. He wanted to go – yearned to go with Yassen that it physically hurt. But they had already tried that. Alex had tried to do something for himself, just once, and it hadn't worked out. He had to move past his wants and do what was best for everyone.
Quietly, the boy admitted, "I know."
"Do you have an alibi?"
"Yes – and I shut the security cameras off, so they have no proof."
Yassen appraised him thoughtfully before telling him, "Good work."
"Thanks," Alex said sheepishly before telling him, "the closest way out is to take the set of stairs at the end of the hallway and go up one flight – there's an emergency exit but I don't think an actual alarm will be set off."
"If an alarm does go off, I can avoid it," Yassen said, walking past Alex out of the cell. Alex followed him out, closing the door soundly behind them.
They were silent for a moment, just looking at one another, even though both of them knew it was a waste of time and unsafe on top of that.
Finally Alex broke the silence. "Maybe… maybe someday I'll see you again?"
Yassen gave him a small smile. "I would like that. I'll keep in touch, when I can manage it."
"Tha-that would be good," Alex admitted softly.
Yassen nodded and said, "Thank you, again."
Alex smiled dryly. "It's what we do, right?"
Yassen smiled back briefly before turning around and darting silently down the hallway. Alex watched for a moment before he turned around and walked to the other end of the hallway to the lift – he would be just in time for his debriefing with Mrs. Jones and Mr. Blunt. The two higher-ups would no doubt not hear about Yassen's escape for at least fifteen minutes, and wouldn't think of Alex, who would be sitting right in front of them at that time.
Alex glanced back at where Yassen had been only once before letting the lift take him up. The world was pressing down on him, a heavy burden he was destined to bear. He didn't have time for his wants and needs – he only had time for everyone else's.
And then the boy that was really more of a man did the hardest thing in his life.
He moved forward.
Oh, Unholy day
If I leave now I might get away
Oh, but this weighs on me
As heavy as stone and as blue as I go
I was just wondering if you'd come along
Hold up my head when my head won't hold on
I'll do the same if the same is what you want
But if not I'll go
I will go alone….