Author's Note:

Happy New Year! I've a wonderful winter break and am actually looking forward to the coming semester. Now, if you think we've done something interesting with magic now…well, I hope you feel the same later when we actually do a crossover. Just so you know, Sho-dono and ARE planning on writing a sequel and maybe a few oneshots besides "This Isn't Wonderland". *looks around shifty-eyed and whispers* The crossover wasn't my idea…

The crossover(s) may not have been your original ideas but once I put them into your head you RAN with them. By the way, please check out our one-shot "This isn't Wonderland", it doesn't become relevant to the current plot for a few more chapters but we would like to know what you all think of it anyway. Thanks.

Chapter 12

When Yassen opened his eyes the soft light of the library seemed entirely too bright, "Do not move, child. Your body is still adjusting to your awakened blood. You need to be careful."

"Ugh…is it normal for my fingers and gums to itch?" the Russian was surprised at the shear whininess of his own question; when was the last time he was the last time he was ever that childish?

Peng paused for a moment wondering if he should mention the more... obvious changes. "Well... let's just say you should avoid scratching any itches for a while."

The assassin narrowed his eyes, "Give me a diagnostic report." He knew he was being rude but this was his body, not some random object.

Peng sighed, "Claws, extended teeth, improved senses and strength. I would say that until you get used to your limits you refrain from doing anything that could potentially harm you." Not that the child would listen but it was worth a shot.

Yassen sighed, "I want to see Alex."

"Alright. You can see him if you can walk there on your own."

The younger male tried to push himself into a standing position; all he managed to do was sit up and even that left him winded. He turned to glare at the snickering Asian beside him, "You could help."

The dragon managed to get his snickering under control, "Oh no. Last time I tried to help you move about you nearly took my head off. You can get yourself to your Sashka's room on your own."

Yassen loosed a low growl from his throat in annoyance before forcing himself to stand, grasping the nearby chair when he began to fall. The Russian dragged himself from the library and, using the wall for support, made the slow journey to the ex-spy's bedroom.

"Stubborn child... and what do you mean I smell like feet?"

The blue-eyed man laughed when he heard his grandfather's comment; it was incredible that he could hear that even when he was standing just outside the bedroom door, a full hundred meters and several walls away. The assassin walked in only to see his angel withdrawn into himself once more. Not that that would stop him from holding the youth; it just meant that the blonde wouldn't be ready to listen to what Yassen had to say.

He reached out to touch Alex's cheek but paused when he noticed his nails. They weren't much longer than before but they were undoubtedly much sharper. He would need to be careful not to hurt his angel. Turning his fingers in, he brushed the teen's cheek with the back of his hand.

"Alex, Ангел мой, wake up. There is so much that needs to be said, dearest Sashka; come out of that pretty head of yours for a little while and talk to me," he whispered softly, teasing affection laced in each word.

Alex didn't respond, he couldn't even hear the assassin.

"Care to explain how I am to reach him, Grandfather?" he didn't turn around but simply knew the elder was at the door.

Peng smiled slightly, his grandchild was already adapting to his new strengths, "You will need to reach him in what Sorcerers call a Mind Meld. It would be easier if I helped you."

"Then help," he replied while nuzzling Alex's neck; something in him found the place that joined neck and shoulder on the last Rider utterly fascinating.

Peng rolled his eyes at his grandson's actions; it seems he'd found his affectionate side. "Relax," he ordered as he moved closer.

The assassin immediately obeyed, settling himself more comfortably while drawing his angel into his arms. He fits perfectly against me; how did I refuse myself the pleasure of touching my Sashka all this time? he marveled, keeping one ear on the Chinese man behind him.

The elder placed one hand on Yassen's head and the other on Alex's. He softly began to chant and the ancient words slowly lulled the Russian into a trance. "Relax and let yourself drift; Alex may be withdrawing but he is simultaneously begging for attention. Let him guide you in..." The world warped away from the blue-eyed male and was replaced by a mindscape that almost made him do what he'd prided himself on never doing: retreat.

It was, like his own mind, a cell where a memory played over and over again. There in the middle of the cell's back wall was Alex, chained and forced to watch his torture again and again.

"You're nothing but a whore, bitch; nothing but MY whore," the memory Snake whispered in memory Alex's ear before brutally whipping him. In the image the ex-spy was hung from meat hooks through the shoulders, a blindfold over his eyes, and an obscenely large butt plug thrust into an already torn and bleeding anus. After long, agonizing minutes the ghostly member of K-Unit changed from a whip to cigarettes and, when he grew bored of burning, he switched to a knife. "No one is coming to get you; no one will save you. Isn't that right, pet? You're not worth enough to ANYONE to merit saving; you're just a dirty slut. SAY IT!" he shouted, backhanding the filth-covered blonde when he wasn't quick enough to answer.

"N-n-no one is c-c-coming to s-save me. I-I'm not worth a r-r-rescue. I-I'm n-n-n-nothing but a d-d-dirty s-slut..." he whimpered out brokenly.

Yassen turned away from the horror only to look at his beloved Sashka being assaulted by...himself. A phantom Yassen sneered at the shackled teen, "I hate you. I've always hated you; you should have died instead of John. You sniveling piece of shit, why would I ever want someone as worthless as you? You've only ever been a burden, an obligation to a dead man's memory. God, how I hate having to save you. Why won't you die already?" The false image punched the youth in the solar plexus before continuing, "You couldn't manage to commit suicide properly; the mangy mutt pulled you out and barked for help. I had to spend more time, more money, more supplies on a failure. That's all that you are: a failure and a filthy whore. You'd let anyone fuck you, wouldn't you?

"Bet I'd just have to smile to get you to spread your legs; you'd do that in a heartbeat if it meant I'd pay attention to you." He stepped back and loosed a kick to the young man's already pained gut, "You were willing to whore yourself out to MI6 even after Jack's death because it was the only way you felt close to me; you clung onto the hope that I was alive and that I would eventually rescue you from the world of espionage like some knight in shining armor. You can't ever be someone normal because then I wouldn't even notice your existence; can't be anything but a spy or an assassin and you hate both jobs. Boo-hoo, grow a backbone already."

Yassen felt like throwing up, his gut roiled, and a fierce protectiveness burned in him. With murderous intent he took a step towards his phantom self ... only to have an iron-like grip to grab hold of his shoulder, "Do not!" It was Peng.

"Release me old man," the assassin snarled, trying to pull himself free.

"That is nothing but a twisted memory," the Asian murmured softly, keeping his grip tight, "What you need to do is heal his actual self."

"And where would I find that?" the pale man grit out; everything in him at war with the rage and sorrow he felt at Alex Rider's plight.

"I do not know." Peng said simply, "That is for you to find." The dragon made the mistake of loosening his grip slightly and with a roar Yassen launched himself at his false twin. Just as his first blow landed on the side of the others head the entire mindscape dissolved.

"ALEX!" Yassen shouted, "Alex, where are you?" The assassin began to run, the world around him warping and shifting between grotesque memories, each more ghastly than the last. "ALEX!" he shouted once more.

A small, pained whimper drew the assassin to a cold, muddy training field. There was a shooting range to his left, a zip-line to his right and directly in front of him was a viscous victory tower and training course. In the middle of it all was his angel, running laps; every injury he had ever received in the 'line of duty' was fresh and bleeding. His breath was coming in pained gasps even as his legs kept going and going as if he couldn't stop. "Alex..."

"Have to keep going, have to get better. Not worth anything if I'm not the perfect teenage spy. If I'm not a spy I'm no one and I'll lose Yassen again if I'm no one," the blonde repeated the same sentences over and over as if it were a mantra; all the while, tears streamed down his scratched and bruised cheeks.

Yassen could only watch in shock for a moment before he moved forward directly into Alex's well worn path. The teen showed no sign of slowing, as if he was blind, "Alex," Yassen intoned gently as the ex-spy drew closer. "Alex," he repeated before grabbing the blonde about the waist, halting his progress. As soon as the young man's feet left the ground he went wild.

"Put me down! Put me down! I have to be perfect for him to notice; put me down!" he screamed, thrashing and flailing recklessly; sobs tore at his raw throat. "I have to; please, I have to."

"Stop, Sashka, stop. I'm right here; I'm noticing you right now. Just look at me, little Alex," the assassin reassured calmly, his new-found heart breaking for the youth.'

Alex's struggles slowly ceased, only to dissolve in tears, "You hate me. You've always hated me."

"No, I've never hated you; not for a single moment in time," he lowered them to the ground and began to rock the browned-eye man. "When you were little, your father would take me to visit you between missions. I used to play with you the entire time I was there; you always smiled and reached for me the second you noticed I was in the house. Those are my happiest memories, Ангел мой."

Alex's breaths continued to hitch but he made no move to answer even as his small hands clutched desperately at Yassen's shirt.

"Will you come back with me, little Alex? Kia and Dr. Peng are so very worried about you and I'd like to hold you in my arms back in the real world."

The blonde continued to cling to the assassin but slowly, he nodded. Gently, the Russian slid an arm beneath Alex's knees and lifted him into his arms.

"Let's go home." And Yassen smiled fondly at the young man, at his heart before the mindscape vanished.