(A/N) Hey guys, sorry this is coming up slightly late, as usual, but I think you're beginning to acclimatise to my…delayed updating. But hey, at least you can all read through it now, and I promise that it's worth the wait, because this chapter pretty much sparks off our next story arc, and the reactions to this chapter are what will be fuelling the next couple of chapters. Interest piqued? Well hell, here you go! Written by the fantastic BrambleStar14, I can promise that this will be well worth the time spent reading it!

Enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Four – And It All Breaks Down

Alex Cross

Written by BrambleStar14

"You are a time bomb. And I have no intention of being around for the boom." - Mike Ehrmantraut

Alex walked up the street rapidly, hood up and avoiding contact with anyone else. It wouldn't do to be recognized right now. His steps were carefully controlled as he headed towards his destination with both finality and dread in his head. He knew it would have come down to this eventually, but now he had no choice. He knew that he had worried the others when he'd left the cafe like that, but at that point, manners and his teammates weren't exactly on his mind. Except for one.

He turned and walked towards the familiar building, clenching his fists for a second, before releasing the tension. With any luck, this wouldn't end violently. With luck. As a familiar twinge of pain ran up his leg, he recalled that luckhadn't really been on his side lately. Walking forwards, he tried not to think about the fallout that this decision could cause. For a start, he doubted any of his teammates would talk to him for a while. Kiara, Will, Arika and Ellen. He didn't know the others well. He had specifically not gotten to know them for this exact eventuality.

He hesitated for a second, standing outside the door. This was the exact moment that he could make his decision. If he went through with this, he had very little doubt he wouldn't go back. He thought of his teammates for a second, all of them. His friends. He stopped quickly. It was too painful. He turned around to go, when the choice was taken out of his hands. Jackson opened the door to his apartment.

Jackson seemed to have taken a lot of things into his own hands lately, Alex reflected with absolutely nobitterness whatsoever.

"Alex?" Jackson asked in surprise. Yeah, Alex thought viciously. After not speaking to you for a few weeks, I suddenly show up? Don't get comfortable. However, he said none of these things. Instead, he spoke with a controlled aura of calmness.

"Jackson. Can I come in? We need to talk." Jackson looked bewildered but nodded as he stepped back, allowing Alex to walk into the apartment. He wouldn't be there long. But, there was still time to change his mind. He turned around to face his erstwhile Captain, who was closing the door, watching Alex carefully.

"What's up?" he asked cautiously, brow furrowed. Alex sighed heavily, before shaking his head. He'd try one last time. If it didn't work then... well, they'd go from there.

"Jackson, it's about the team. Let me put this, quite plainly. You need to sort your shit out." Jackson blinked in surprise and went to speak, but Alex was having none of it, not this time. "No, Jackson, I'm serious. You need to man up and accept that the girls are here to stay. You need to accept that we have more women than men, you need to accept that we have new recruits and you need to actually be able to take challenges to your position!" Alex hadn't even realised he was shouting until he had finished.

Jackson recovered within seconds of the attack, face twisting into a furious grimace. "Why should I? It's obvious after that game!" he spat. "That those girls are going to cost us everything that we have worked for! Rampancy, gone up in flames! Because we put the team in their hands!"

"Last time I checked, Captain," Alex replied easily," you were in charge. But, oh yeah, your position is crumbling a little. You continually threaten the team and injured a mate. One of your best mates. Thanks for that, by the way."

Jackson snorted. "Oh yeah. I forgot. Your 'sprained' leg. How dramatic! Well, it won us the game, didn't it? What else matters?"

Alex sighed. He wasn't going to get through to Jackson while he was in this mood. He turned and began to pace around the room, keeping an eye on Jackson the whole time. It occurred to his that this was the most they'd spoken for a very long while. For a moment, he was filled with fleeting sadness, though the emotion was gone the second he looked at Jackson's furious features. He had gone too far this time.

"What else? No idea. Only perhaps, your bloody friends, you moron!" He was shouting again. "You're just so self-centred, obsessed with impressing your damn father that you hurt everyone around you! You're tearing Rampancy into shreds, Jackson!"

Jackson seemed thrown.

"I'm tearing it apart?" he repeated incredulously, face livid, contorted with rage. "I'm doing nothing! Those girls, and you two obsessed with them, are the ones destroying the team! And Coach just sits there, content as can be, happy in the knowledge that, at least Rampancy is going down in equality!" he stormed, before panting heavily. It appeared that he had temporarily exhausted his rage.

Alex was unrelenting. "Who starts the arguments? You do. Who is the one who can always turn the mood sour with a few words or even just a facial expression? You. Who injured his friends for a sport match. A pre-season friendlymatch. You did. Noticing a link, mate? It's you. It's all you and unless you change, it will always be you."

He sat down heavily on the sofa Jackson had against the wall, head in his hands. "We're all at breaking point here, Jackson. What do you want from us? How do you expect this to pan out? Go on, I'm riveted. I really want to hear this." He paused, watching Jackson with falsely bright interest. Jackson scowled at him.

"I don't know, Alex. But if the girls stay on Rampancy, we won't be getting anywhere anytime soon!" He broke off as Alex stood up, pointing a finger accusingly.

"There you go again! Jackson, it's more like if YOU stay on the team, we won't be getting anywhere. It's your attitude dragging us down and I'm not certain I want to be a part of it anymore." He stopped suddenly. Jackson looked stunned, brow creasing as his eyes widened. Alex might have found the situation funny if he wasn't so deadly serious.

"Yeah, Jackson, that's right. You're forcing everyone to the point where they are literally beginning to consider unthinkable actions. I don't want to go to Coach, but I will."

"Alex, wait a second. Think about this from my perspective!" Jackson almost pleaded. Almost. Pleading wasn't in Jackson's style. Alex was through with this charade.

"I'm done thinking about your perspective, Jackson," Alex commented easily, ignoring Jackson's obviously rising blood pressure. "I'm done with you. It's over. Because it's all led to this one, hasn't it Jackson. I could have ignored it as first. It was little things the whole team could have potentially ignored. But it got worse and worse, didn't it? And now we're led to this point. Jackson, what is it all for? Rampancy? Or perhaps your Captaincy feels threatened? Are you afraid of something? Because are you so worried that I'll end up taking your place if you continue, but you know no other way to act? Or are you terrified that Arika would make a better Captain then you?"

That did it. The next thing Alex knew, he was on the floor, tasting blood in his mouth, pain exploding in his jaw, racing straight to his brain and causing him to groan loudly. Jackson had very clearly hit him in the face, very hard. Alex groaned again and rolled onto his back, looking up at Jackson, who was staring at him with barely concealed fury.

"How dare you!" he raged. "I do everything for Rampancy! I carried the game! Those girls are destroying it all! And you're too blind to see it!"

Alex got to his feet slowly, rubbing his jaw with his left hand and examining the red streak on his hand after he pulled it away. He grinned to himself. It looked like Jackson had finally reached a decision. Looking up at Jackson, he pulled his hand back and swung it solidly into Jackson's temple, knocking him backwards with a shout. Seconds later, Alex jumped forwards again, slamming a palm into Jackson's nose this time, sending his head snapping back with a fine spray of red mist.

Alex stepped back as Jackson collapsed over the back of his sofa, groaning slightly as blood slowly ran down his face.

"You're poison," Alex spoke with venom, spitting blood at Jackson's feet as he glared up at Alex with hateful eyes, trying to get up. "You ruin everything you touch. Well, guess what? We're through." He turned and walked away slowly, feeling almost as though a great weight was lifting from his shoulders. Now that he'd made his decision, he felt a lot better, allowing a genuine smile across his face, despite the wound on his cheek and the groaning form of his ex best friend behind him.

"So that's it, is it?" Jackson yelled behind him, causing Alex to pause in the doorway. "You know what, why not leave? Just get out of Rampancy then if it's so damn horrific there! See if I care!" Alex smirked to himself in victory. He had hoped Jackson would say something along those lines.

"Sure thing. You won't see me at training from now on." Jackson stopped moving behind him and Alex turned, eyebrows raised, to see Jackson propping himself up on his elbows, some other emotion breaking through his rage that Alex neither cared nor wanted to see.

"But, where will you go? What- what will you do, Alex?" He sounded stunned beyond belief. Alex wasn't surprised. Here was one of his oldest friends and one of his oldest supporters walking out on him. But then again, it had been obvious that it was leading to this for quite a while now. He responded with something that he never really thought he'd have to say again, but he was Alex Cross, so it was no doubt coming.

"I'll find another team. I'm used to that, aren't I?" He tried not to think of Ellen and the rest. It hurt too much. Jackson tried to stand, legs still weak.

"Alex," he rasped slowly, but Alex was done.

"Fuck you, Rothe," he spat blood again, hoping that the lack of the nickname Jacky, or even Jackson, or a mocking Captain. They were truly done now. Alex walked out, leaving Jackson on that sour note as he didn't even slam the door, walking away from the ruins behind him.

As he walked away from both the building housing his battered ex-Captain and his decision, he pulled out his phone and called his agent.

"It's Alex," he spoke, turning for a second to the window several floors up, possibly only imagining the silhouette he thought he saw there, watching him. "I need a transfer. I don't care where. Just get me out of Rampancy."