Disclaimer: Since I haven't read Russian Roulette yet, I can't possibly be Anthony Horowitz… Sigh…
PART 4: Back From the Dead
Karma…
Forget SCORPIA. Forget the other terrorist groups that wanted him dead (though there were less now than five years ago). Forget that it had been four years since he truly went head to head with anyone, and that the balance should have evened out by now…
Karma was what would do him in in the end. Because it always seemed to pop up when he least expected it—but really should have. Now though… he just felt like death warmed over.
Of course, there were perfectly logical reasons for it, though why it had to hit that day of all days. However, the next day, or even the day before would have been perfect—if there really was a perfect timing for something like this.
Granted, he should have seen it coming from a long way off. Both Ben and Luke had been telling him for days that he wasn't doing anything to help his situation. Little sleep. Irregular eating habits. Nightmares. General stress. It was like someone was reading the recipe for perfect seizure conditions, and he had fallen into the trap without even looking back once.
Although it had been several weeks since the last series of seizures, he was, by all reckoning due for another set. It hadn't improved much since he had gone back to school, still missing swaths of classes because he was so exhausted and brain numb by the time the seizures finished. There was a reason he was only attending the University on a part-time scheme…
Maybe I can pass it off as another kidnapping attempt… He shook himself, knowing that that definitely wasn't the answer to his problems.
It had been a shock when only two weeks earlier Ben had informed him that two of his oldest friends were returning to London. It was a big city; there was a low probability that they would even see each other. He hadn't understood the implications until later. They had both been accepted to UCL. The same university he attended.
By the time the news filtered down to him, MI6 had already made their action plan—a fact that he had grumbled about for several days. MI6 was planning to reveal him—despite his protests that such an action wasn't really necessary. They weren't even in the same year or career! However, his own security was supposedly more important than his juvenile wishes.
Since starting at UCL, he had made a few notable changes to his personal history that made it harder for his past to inadvertently stumble across him. Very few realized that he had changed his name right before starting university, and the few that did, seemed to acknowledge that it was a long overdue change. What most didn't know, was the change in all the records that had gone along with it as well. School records, living history, parental information… Everything had been changed all in the name of protecting himself.
Now with the presence of people from his past, there was the likelihood that a few comments in the wrong place could compromise his safety. Though really, how much he needed it now, he wasn't entirely sure. He hadn't had someone actively trying to kill him in… nearly two years. It seemed that the front was holding up rather well…
Looking back on it all, Alex wondered where he had missing the glaring signals. It was all a great big trigger for higher stress levels—something that he was supposed to avoid. However, it wasn't like there was a book that recommended methods for coming back from the supposed dead, and reintroducing yourself to your friends. After all, the dead were supposed to stay just that. Dead.
"Err… Alex?" A hand touched his shoulder, and he couldn't help the startle reaction that followed. Seizures made him touchy… "Ben just messaged me to say they were in the building."
Alex swallowed. It seemed that the time was there. Where's a good kidnapper when you need one…? "Okay…" He still wasn't feeling well. In fact, he had a sinking suspicion that the seizures weren't done with him for that day. They had taken up the nasty habit over the past year of sneaking back for a second attack on far too many occasions. "Guess that's my cue to get myself together then."
Next to him, Luke leaned over and caught his gaze. "You don't have to stay long. Keep it short and sweet." He patted the bed with a grin. "This bed'll be right here waiting for you."
A hint of a smile crossed Alex's face, before shaking his head. He had put himself through enough already—he wasn't going to back out at the last moment. After all, they had thought he was dead for nearly five years. The least that his friends deserved was an opportunity to tell him—to his face—that they never wanted to see him again. Because, what else could they want? He had deserted them. Ditched when it became too much. Left them mourning over someone who wasn't dead. He had done nothing—all in the name of protecting them. "They deserve more than that."
Luke's lips pressed into a thin line, but he refrained from saying anything more. They had argued about this off and on for the past couple of days. To be honest though, Alex was glad he didn't press, because he wasn't sure he had the energy to carry on an intelligent argument. After all, he was barely functioning at fifty percent.
Alex sighed, before pushing himself up off the bed in MI6's infirmary. It had been his crashing place for the last handful of hours, having been deposited there once Ben had carefully rearranged all their premade plans. He had thrown everything into chaos, just by having a simple seizure.
Luke caught him under the elbow, giving him a hand until the initial dizziness wore off. The seizure had been no worse than usual, meaning that provided nothing more happened, the after effects would probably last for about a day or so. Which was good, since classes would be starting up again in just over a week, and really, his classmates were understanding—they had learned rather quickly that he had fragile health—but even they would wonder a little if he missed the first days of class.
He sighed again, but didn't comment at Luke's inquiring look. Instead, he struggled to get his shoes on and make himself look at least slightly presentable. A little better than death warmed over… He settled for a scowl at the mirror, since there really wasn't anything he could do about the way his skin looked whiter than paper or the fact that the shadows under his eyes that had slowly been growing were now impossible to miss.
Luke's face loomed over his shoulder in the small bathroom a couple minutes later. "Braden just came by. They've got the papers signed."
Alex swallowed. It was time. Part of him had been hoping that they'd be stubborn and refuse to sign. Then he wouldn't have to see them. That was just wishful thinking though… "Now or never."
Luke gave him an exasperated look. "Do you want company?"
He shook his head. Better not to overwhelm them.
"Take your time going up then, okay?"
Alex rolled his eyes. "Yes, mother."
Luke gave him the look, patented by older brothers everywhere.
"Yeah, sure. Can't go faster than my one speed, you know."
Luke snorted. "Yeah… which is 'get there as quickly as possible, leaving no room for injuries.'"
Alex gave Luke a rueful grin. "Yeah, well… you know me. Always getting into the worst of it."
"You'll be fine."
Alex just shrugged, before grabbing his cane from beside the bed. Although for the most part he got around without the extra support, he had gotten used to the safety it provided him—thanks to Smithers upgrades. After the seizures though… it just provided another level of security and independence. It was less of an actual need and more of a habit most other days.
With one last sigh of resignation, Alex started to make his way to Ben's office—where his former best friends waited. Who knew what kind of reception he was going to get…
It really was a bad sort of day when he was actively hoping for some kind of uproar in the usually calm workplace. Merely because he knew that if something happened, he'd be able to put off the inevitable meeting… However, despite the fact that he was within the heart of MI6 headquarters, there were no explosions, fights, or suddenly convenient kidnappings. Just the knowing gazes from the few people that still knew him around the place.
Really, there were still quite a few that knew a little about him—though they didn't know about his past. He had stopped needing an escort a while ago, but they still remembered him—and some of the new ones as well, since he inevitably dropped in on their training at least once.
Of course, very few actually understood why he looked so shaky.
By the time he reached Ben's door, he had a white knuckled grip on his cane. He had already rehashed numerous versions of how it could all go down—the worst of which were from his nightmares. He honestly didn't see how Ben and Luke could think that everything would be fine in the end. They would be so angry with him…
When he hesitated outside the door, it was only the minute trembling in his legs that made him push onward. He was reaching his limit of energy, and the pounding in his head was picking up again. He wasn't sure how long he stood there, only that there was a sudden spike in his headache that convinced him to get moving.
A recipe for disaster…
He rolled his shoulders, trying to belay the tension that was working itself through his muscles. After all, it wouldn't do to let them know just how keyed up he was about this meeting. Pulling on the most natural and neutral expression he could manage, he pushed open the door and stepped in.
Tom and Sabina.
He hadn't expected his breath to catch in his throat. He hadn't expected the sudden pain at seeing the familiar faces—ones that he had only seen in his nightmares for the past five years. Their expressions were blank and waiting—not hostile like he had expected. But that almost hurt him more.
He swallowed, trying to pull up the calm façade again, but this time it wasn't working. His expression was caught somewhere in the middle. "Hey guys."
Sabina stared at him with a blank expression, and he barely suppressed the automatic flinch. There was no recognition, no acknowledgement of who he was. Tom, on the other hand, seemed to know him right away—despite the changes.
"Alex!"
He tried to smile, though he felt like it came out more as a grimace rather than anything else. His hand tightened on the handle of his cane, before pushing the door closed behind him. "Hi?" He didn't dare use the door as support, no matter how much he wanted to.
Then came the reactions he had been expecting. Shook and confusion from Sabina, so strong that he wanted to simply melt into the walls. And the look of hurt and betrayal from Tom… it was copied almost exactly from his nightmares. A swooping sensation charged through his stomach, and Alex carefully blanked his face.
He wasn't allowed to run away.
He met Ben's eyes across the desk, but didn't bother saying anything. He had predicted this, and no one had believed him.
"Have a seat, Alex." The man nodded toward the one remaining chair, positioned somewhere between the safety of behind the desk and the danger of his former friends.
Their expression of shock hadn't disappeared, so it was with a little bit of uncomfortableness that he walked away from the safety of the door and potential escape. He gathered together the remnants of his energy—it wouldn't do to look weak in front of them—and maneuvered across the open space of the room. He felt their stares on his back though, making him all the more aware of how much he had changed in the last five years.
They hated him. It was clear. He had abandoned them. And in his opinion, they were perfectly within their rights.
He sank down into the chair, but refused to show the weakness he was feeling. If nothing else, he wouldn't let them know how much this was affecting him.
"Are you feeling up to this?" The question was soft, carrying just loud enough that Alex could hear it. Not that anyone else would understand the French… but that was unimportant.
He clenched his jaw. "Of course." Not.
Ben sent him a frustrated glance. "You're as pale as the wall. You don't have to stay the entire time."
"I'll be… fine." The truth of the matter was, he wasn't sure he'd be able to even make it out of the room. His energy levels were at an all-time low. He could have done with at least a night of sleep—and probably a good several cups of coffee (which he wasn't supposed to have in the first place). And the twitch that had picked up in his hands on the way up… probably wasn't a good sign.
Of course, if he fell asleep in the room—unlikely, but possible—then Ben would be more worried than usual. So he just had to keep himself together until they were done with the inquisition and he could sleep off the effects for the next couple of days.
"But… how… I mean…" Sabina was the first to regain her voice, this time filled with accusation. "They said… They told us you were dead!"
Alex barely managed to suppress the flinch at the sheer vehemence directed toward him. This was exactly like his nightmares. His friends hated him.
"Miss Pleasure, do please sit down." The exasperated note in Ben's voice told Alex that this wasn't the first time his friends had expressed their unique stubbornness. Alex had tried to explain beforehand though. After all, they hated him. "I realize that you may have a lot of… unexpressed emotions about this topic, but I assure you that attacking him won't do anything for you except make a lot of powerful people angry."
Alex blinked, wondering when Sabina had gotten off her chair, looking for all the world like she wanted to throttle him. She sat with little grace, fixing a fierce glare on Ben.
"And I suppose you pretend that you're protecting him." Tom spat out. "I know what happened before. He had prospects and MI6 ruined them."
Alex's heart jumped into his throat. That didn't fit with his nightmares. He was supposed to hate Alex. Not be angry on his behalf… "It's not like that anymore, Tom." It was the first thing he had said to his friends, and knew immediately that his words weren't believed. He just wanted to get to the part where they said that they hated him for leaving and pretending to die and that they didn't want to see him ever again. Then… life would be able to continue as usual.
"Sure."
"It's not." Ben insisted. "Let me at least explain before you try jumping to too many conclusions."
Alex heard a sharp huff from Sabina, but she didn't say anything. Alex himself just stared at his hands, catching bits and pieces of what Ben said, as he tried to explain Alex's last couple of years in as few sentences as possible. It all seemed rather disjointed to Alex's brain, but then, Ben seemed to know what he was doing.
"—hid on the streets—"
"—French kid—"
"—he lived with me."
"—terrorist threat—"
"—at UCL now."
Alex felt like he was swimming up a long tunnel, and he shook his head, wincing when it only served to aggravate his headache. His friends were both still glaring. They didn't believe Ben. Or him.
"And now what, he's a normal student?" The biting sarcasm in Sabina words brought Alex back to himself for a moment, catching onto the topic at hand. It brought back just where he had been the last time she had seen him—in the midst of a depression so deep that his only escape had been to leave the country. Of course she didn't believe that he could possibly be normal again.
"Yes… more or less."
Something told Alex that Ben hadn't mentioned his ongoing medical problems, and he wasn't sure if he was thankful for that or not.
"Excuse me if I don't believe you."
Alex sighed, and opened his eyes, not realizing they had closed in the first place. The others seemed to have forgotten his presence too. "This is my second year at UCL." The words took more energy than he had expected and he had to struggle to pull together the remainder. "I've been studying part-time in the Linguistics program. My health doesn't permit full-time." His lips curled oddly, remembering the old excuse for not attending school regularly. His health. Funnily enough, this time it was true. "I swear."
From the unamused expression on both of their faces, Alex knew that he was just fighting an uphill battle. He honestly wasn't sure why he was even trying. His dreams had been telling him the answer for years now. He had lied to them too much, and now… there was just irreparable damage.
Soon, they too would be gone from his life forever.
A/N: Here's the latest installment, along with a heavy dose of Alex-angst… Just two more chapters to go (because I said this was a short little thing), and really the next chapter should really put a wrap on it, more or less. ^_^
Let me know what you think in the comments!
S.B.L.
