Author's Note: Based on the fic that I could find online, it seems I'm the only person on the planet who is a Continuum fan, particularly fond of Alec Sadler, and a hurt/comfort/whump nut (if I'm wrong, please prove that to me by posting your fic here!). So, I had to write this ficlet to get at least some of it out of my system. It's a pretty much pointless AU for The Dying Minutes (S3 ep 12) with added whump.
Alec welcomed all interruptions, no matter how painful, no matter what they might mean. The solitary whiteness of the glass cage was enough to drive anyone mad, let alone someone who had so much to think about. Nothing to do but wallow in all the regrets and self-pity for who knew how long. At least the Freelancers occupied his mind with something else when they wanted something of him, and as long as they wanted something, they'd keep him alive. Whether that was a good thing, he couldn't quite decide. Maybe it would be easier if they just ended it, for once and for all.
Still, every time he heard footsteps, there was a faint spark of hope that refused to be quenched. A foolish passing thought that Kiera had changed her mind and come back for him. He hated himself for being so naive, but he couldn't help it. The rational part of his mind knew perfectly well that she wouldn't do that. She was with the Freelancers now, and she had chosen the other Alec.
This time was no different. He heard approaching steps and looked up, but it was just Miller, the Freelancer he had come to hate the most.
"So, did you bring that poster?" Alec quipped.
Miller, as always, did not react at all to his words, just stared at him with a stony face full of contempt. "Catherine may have made a deal, but I consider that expired now. I tolerated it long enough. You were never meant to be in this timeline, and there is only one solution for these problems."
He hit a button on the cage wall, and as had already happened several times before, Alec heard the hiss of air flowing out of the cell. Unlike the previous times, though, Miller did not stay around to see the effects. He turned and walked away, and did not look back.
"No, no! Miller! Wait, come back! I'll-" Alec banged on the transparent wall, but stopped almost right away. He would what, exactly? What did he have to offer that could make them change their minds? Having lived one week longer didn't exactly give him a huge advantage. The other Alec had all the skills and knowledge that he had.
He leaned his forehead on the wall, gasping. This was it, then. Time was up for the time traveler, finally, and now he knew the truth: no matter what he had thought during his dark hours in this whiteness, he did not want this. He did not want to die. There was so much that he could have done, there was the future that he would have helped create, whether it was Kiera's or something completely different. There was Emily, who would not even know why he had disappeared. At least she was alive. His time jump had not been completely in vain.
Were they simply sucking the air out or feeding something in? Or was it just the carbon dioxide building up? He wasn't entirely sure. Right about now was when Miller had stopped, those previous times when they had tortured him.
He knew he was hyperventilating. He just could not get enough oxygen in. There wasn't enough. The walls were misting over - or was that only the haze in his eyes?
His vision was growing dim, and he felt his knees give out. As he crashed to meet the floor, his pale reflection stared at him from its transparent surface with an expression of pure panic.
How long would it take? Not long now, he was sure. Painful, dreadful, but quick. He would lose consciousness soon. A few minutes without oxygen and there would be brain damage, and then he would be gone and nothing would matter anymore.
The final minutes of the great and powerful Alec Sadler who never came to be.
This place was straight out of a nightmare, with all its glass walls. A maze from her very worst dreams. Kiera had never even realized you could hate a place this much before she had come to know this prison. And this was where she had left Alec. It was better than the alternative, a simple elimination, which Catherine would have preferred. Better, but only slightly…
Or perhaps it had been exactly the same.
The only cell that was occupied was Alec's, and he was lying on the floor. Not curled up, like the last time she had seen him, but face down in an awkward heap that reminded her too much of so many dead bodies she had seen, his skin the same color as the white clothes they had dressed him in.
No, no, no, she could not possibly be too late!
She hit the switch to open the door and pulled him out. He wasn't breathing. The air was all wrong in the cell, or rather, there wasn't any. No oxygen left. They had wanted him removed from this timeline, and they had decided to do it whether she had made a deal with them or not.
She set him on the floor next to the cage and ran a quick medical scan. The text on the CMR display blinked bright red, warning that the subject was in critical condition. Ventricular fibrillation detected. Immediate defibrillation required.
She could do this. She had done it successfully before, although in 2077, she had always been in contact with a medic who could guide her through the steps, and getting it wrong would probably do more harm than good. Not to mention that this wasn't just any injured stranger. This was Alec. Her Alec, her friend, the one she had betrayed. Kiera took a deep breath. Standard first aid protocol. She knew how to do it.
She activated the correct settings on her sleeves, lifted his shirt and placed the sleeves agains his slim chest. She felt his body convulse as she shocked him. It would work. It couldn't' be too late. She wouldn't accept that.
She lifted her hands and scanned again. To her extreme relief, the EKG reading settled into a rapid, but life-sustaining rhythm. Red warnings still blinked on the CMR, though. He still wasn't breathing.
How much time did she have? She had not seen Catherine, and few other Freelancers whose faces she remembered had not been there in the hallway. They could show up any minute now. But for him, the question of time was even more critical. A few minutes without oxygen, and he might never fully recover, even if he did survive.
She crouched over him to give him two initial rescue breaths. His chest rose as it should, but he remained still and lifeless.
"Come on, Alec. I'm getting you out. I know I was wrong. Give me a chance to fix this," she said, more to herself than to him. Even that low voice seemed to echo loudly in the emptiness of the prison.
She gave another set of breaths, and was rewarded with a wheezing intake of breath and a few coughs from him.
"Yes, that's it, come on!" she cheered, still half afraid that it had been too late.
His eyes opened wide, the pale blue a stark contrast to all the whiteness. He gazed at her, blinking, his expression completely bewildered. "Kiera?"
"Yes, it's me, I'm sorry, and we need to go. I'll help you."
"I'm hallucinating," he said, his eyes narrowing.
"No, believe me, Alec, this is very real," she said, squeezing his shoulder to accentuate her words. "And we really need to go." She thought she could already hear approaching footsteps, and she did not want to get stuck in a fight with him close by and still in less than perfect shape.
He had lifted his hands to pull down his shirt, and they lingered above the red marks on his chest where she had shocked him. She knew the burns would remain painful for a while. She could see the realization of what had happened dawn in his eyes, and that flash of calculating intelligence was enough to convince her that he was all there.
"I would have died," he stated.
"I wouldn't let you, and I won't let you. Never again. I'm so sorry, Alec. I messed up, and I know it now. Come on, we have to get out of here."
She put her arms around him and helped him stand up, keeping an eye on his vitals to make sure he stayed as stable as could be expected.
"I knew you would come," he said, still sounding slightly breathless. "That doesn't mean I'm not mad at you, though."
"We can talk about it later," she said curtly, guiding him towards the exit.
He leaned heavily on her as they started walking, but did not say anything else.
In her thoughts, she thanked the designer who had had the presence of mind to add the first aid functions to the CPS suit. Of course, she could guess who that had been, or rather, who that would be. That genius inventor now depended on her to get him out of here alive, and then, hopefully, they could mend the rift between them, because it wasn't too late. It had been far too close, but she had caught him just in time.