Running.

"Are you okay?"

Watching.

"Me? I'm fine. You don't know me, but if you did, you'd know that I'm always fine."

White noise.

"Me? I'm fine. You don't know me, but if you did, you'd know that I'm always fine."

White noise.

"Me? I'm fine. You don't know me, but if you did, you'd know that I'm always fine."

White noise.

Danny stood in the shadows of the column. Two more days and it would have been their anniversary. Three years since their very first meeting. Danny coming down from a drug induced high, a night of clubbing and casual sex. He remembered his loneliness, back then. How he had stood right here, facing the river, mobile in his hand, ready to throw it. Ready to jump. He looked over the parapet at the dark water below. It still held an unspoken promise of peace, of letting go and giving himself over to the nothingness beyond.

Dawn was breaking. Only a few more hours, and the street behind him would become a bustling river of its own. Filled with busses and cars, people on their way to or from work; tourists using their mobiles to find the next destination; the odd cyclist. He would be back in hiding by then, taking his precautions before venturing out to the university. As always, he would be hiding in the shadows, vanishing in the crowd.

Danny closed his eyes and willed his mind back to that night, almost three years ago. How he had tried to reach at least one of his friends and failed. How he was about to throw the mobile, then turning in the last minute, losing and shattering it in front of him on the pavement. The sound. Thump, thump, thump. Danny smiled a small, desperate smile. He could almost hear Alex running. Crossing the bridge. Coming to a stop behind him, a bit out of breath.

"Mister Holt? Danny Holt?"

Danny's eyes flew open, every single muscle in his body tensed, ready to run. He did not turn around. Just stood still, fighting down the bile in his mouth, forcing himself to stay calm. His hands, hidden in the pockets of his black hoodie, were grasping the fabric as if trying to hold on to reality, on to something tangible. In his mind's eye, he recalled the agony of the past two years. Finding Alex dead, his decaying body hidden in the trunk; being framed for his murder; the papers smearing their relationship; Frances and her manipulations; everybody telling him lies about Alex; and then, Scottie. Danny failed to suppress a sob. A part of him wondered about the length of time gone by. All of these experiences together felt like a fraction of a second compared to their very first meeting now almost three years ago.

Who knows, he thought, this might be my last dawn. And whatever else they might want to throw my way, it will never take away my time with Alex.

He blinked a few times at the first rays of the sun rising in the East. Breathing in deeply, savouring the taste of the city, the river, the dawning day, and he finally turned around. He was ready to face them and their machinations.

The man in front of him stood patiently waiting on the pavement, taking a step back in surprise when he saw Danny.

"You do look like him!"

Danny had no time to think about that puzzling statement. Seeing the man in grey sweat pants and jumper, Danny let out a small gasp, hiding his mouth behind his right hand. All he could see was Alex. Alex in the same clothes that night. Alex crouching down in front of him.

"Are you okay?"

His voice had been concerned.

"Me? I'm fine. You don't know me, but if you did, you'd know that I'm always fine."

Danny had tried to put on his mask, to avoid a spiteful remark, to prevent pity showing in the beautiful eyes of this man. How was it possible, that this person, who he had never seen before... How were they the only person in the whole world that knew… That he was not OK. And he had given him his bottle, before he stood again and began to walk away.

"What about your drink?"

Alex had turned and answered.

"You can keep it."

Danny swallowed, tried to blink the sudden wetness in his eyes away. He had to regain some sort of control or they would be able to push him over in no time. As much as he had tried to carve out a new life for himself, most of it was still new and unknown territory. Rituals and rules, he was learning painstakingly slow, while people around him just assumed, he knew what he was doing. He had believed that they would leave him be, now, that Scottie was dead, and he had lost his last ally.

"Danny, we don't have much time," the man said in a low voice, a concerned frown on his face. "I've a car parked on the other side of the bridge. No CCTV. Follow me over there."

Danny looked confused when the man began to jog along, not even looking back and checking whether he followed or not.

Then, Danny surprised himself by slowly walking after the unknown man. He was still checking for CCTV, looking down and hiding his face when he passed the few other people, who were out this time of day. He saw the man entering a small car, and a few moments later Danny slipped in on the passenger seat. He put on the seatbelt, then shoved his hands back into his pockets. No need to parade his nervousness.

The man put the car into gear and drove off. A few minutes passed in silence.

"Bond, James Bond," the man said and turned to Danny. "Just call me James."

His eyes were tired, but smiling. That was new. Danny gave a small nod in return.

"I'm sorry about the clothes. My," James paused. "My friend thought it would help convince you to come with me."

Of course the man had noticed Danny's shock. Danny kept his silence. James had driven off without locking the car doors. The car was nothing like the others, he had been abducted in. If this even was an abduction. They fell quiet for the rest of the journey, a half hour drive through streets slowly beginning to fill with other motorists. James parked the car, then looked apologising at Danny.

"We'll have to walk a few blocks. Best keep your head down, we don't want to alert anyone of you–or me being here."

James added the last part quietly. They got out of the car and walked side by side this time, and again, Danny felt a sting in his heart.

"Are you... Are... Hehheh."

God, he had felt awkward. And giddy. And happy.

"I've run out of questions. Erm…"

Yes, totally awkward.

"Ask me. Please."

That voice! Danny had been overflowing with emotions, he couldn't yet name.

"Are you out?"

"No. If you want to go, I can understand that reaction."

Go? No way. If anything, he had felt like he wanted to jump Alex there and then.

"I don't want to go."

Never. He had not wanted to leave Alex then, or any time later. And he had missed him ever since that evening in the attic.

James indicated a small house, one in a long row of similar buildings, two floors high. This one had additional windows set in its roof. Two steps led up to the front door, and James opened it to let Danny in. They were standing in a narrow corridor, stairs on one side and an open door on the other end.

"We have to get up under the roof," James pointed upwards.

"James, did you get him?"

A posh voice shouted from up above in way of a greeting. Danny's surprised look was met with a shrug. They started to climb the stairs.

"Of course I got him. We're coming up now."

"Bloody git."

Now, James was grinning.

"He has tried to get hold of you the past two weeks, before he got in touch with me to help him," James explained.

"Oh, so it was him." Danny said, now almost on the top of the stairs. "I'd noticed someone following me."

"YES!"

James and Danny looked at each other, both alarmed, then the other man came jumping out of the room under the roof, arms lifted in wild agitation. Danny's eyes felt like they would popped out of their sockets. He had to hold on to the banister, looking at a mirror image of himself. Take away the glasses and change the hipster clothes to some of his rumpled ones, and this man would pass as his identical twin anytime.

"You do look like me!"

The man looked appreciatively at him.

"Danny, meet Sidney Perce. Sidney," James threw a pointed look at the other man. "Sidney, meet Danny Holt."

"Uhm," Sidney actually blushed. "Yes, sorry. But, Bond, it's working. And in the nick of time. The interval had been down to mere nanoseconds. You have to see this. Danny," Sidney was grabbing his arm and pulling him into the room."Danny, say something. Anything."

Danny stumbled over some electronics on the floor, before he regained his balance. A look around the room revealed that it was larger than expected. Several lofts must have been build into this one. Scattered around the place were large wooden boxes, letters and signs branded into the wood. Some were open, revealing wires, small metal boxes, and other inexplicable gadgets to him. Sidney was pulling him towards a row of large computer screens, set beside a wall, which closed off a part of the room, hiding whatever it was behind it. There were more boxes stacked along the sloping walls of the roof. Despite the very few and small windows, the room was bright and felt almost homely. Probably the furniture, a few chairs, coffee tables, and arm chairs helped. The chairs in front of the screen were well worn.

"I'm sorry," Danny said. "I don't know what to say."

The reply was a shriek from Sidney, who pointed excitedly at the screens. Even Danny could see something was happening. Lines of code, green against the black background, were flowing over the screens. Every screen seemingly showing a different part of the programme, if it was a programme. While Danny was looking at the screens, wondering what he in fact was looking at, everything slowed down and came to a halt.

"Say something, Danny."

Sidney was practically vibrating beside him.

"Why? Why would–"

Danny stopped mid-sentence, because the screens turned alive again. Only to stop a few seconds later. Danny looked at Sidney, then at James, hoping someone would explain what was going on.

"Sidney, you have to explain what we're looking at. I think, Danny deserves to know."

"I think, uhm," Sidney looked at James for help.

Danny just felt more and more confused. Another pointed look, and Sidney deflated a bit.

"Okay, I'll, well, Danny, I'm going to show you. But, uhm. Don't be alarmed. It looks, or you might. Well."

"Sidney. Now."

"Okay."

Sidney once more grabbed Danny's arm and pulled him forward around the corner.

In front of him was a small bed.

"Alex."

Danny might have shouted, might have whispered the name. He didn't know and didn't care. He took the three steps and sank down beside the bed, finding Alex's hand and taking hold of it. Alex stayed silent and still, his hand pliable in Danny's.

"Alex," this time Danny whispered his name. "What is wrong? What did they do to you?"

He held onto Alex' hand, but turned away from him, looking pleadingly at Sidney and James. Sidney was engrossed in his screens, the lines of code coming alive again and mirrored in his glasses. James grabbed a chair and placed it at Alex's bedside.

"Sit down, Danny. This is going to be one long story. I'll go and get some tea and sandwiches."