Hey guys, I hope you've all had a good holiday break! I went away over the break, which was so much fun (hoping to get a few travel posts up on IG eventually). But when I got back, I was really sick and jetlagged (plus I've only been back at school for a week but I already have two assignments due tomorrow and an exam Wednesday). Hopefully once I get settled back into school, I'll be more active on IG (because I was kind of MIA over the past few weeks). Read on for some intimate Gralexei!

Gonna reply to reviews on the previous chapter, thanks so much to everyone who reviewed!

Guest 1: You've picked up on a plothole that I haven't quite managed to answer! :P For now, I'm going to say that Alexei's dad gradually let his ego get the better of him plus he became more harsh after Karina disappeared, as a way of dealing with that pain. And I feel like I portray him as way more of an asshole compared to the original books ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Guest 2: I was actually planning on having Grace meet Tanner and Jordan at the end of Take the Key and Lock Her Up in Alexei's POV, as a fun, fluffy epilogue. Even though I agree that it's not canon, you're definitely on the right track with what's going to happen ;)

Disclaimer: I do not own the Embassy Row series and all the characters (except for Tanner and Jordan and Alexei's Moscow friends (Roman, Eugene, Josef, and Yulia), who are my own creations). They belong to Ally Carter. I am merely using her characters and plotline to create this fanfiction. This fanfiction is purely for entertainment purposes and would not exist without Ally Carter's wonderful works.

The events that happen in this fanfiction are not meant to be representative of real life. Any similarities to any real-life events or fictional works is purely coincidental and not intentional (with the exception of the original Embassy Row books by Ally Carter since this fanfiction is literally See How They Run but from Alexei's, not Grace's, perspective). The character's actions may not always reflect my own opinions or views. Based on what happens in this chapter (spoiler alert), I do not condone physical violence.

Trigger warning: mild to moderate
This fanfiction is rated T, for suggestive themes, language, and violence. This chapter contains very mild language (probably the least amount of swearing I've ever had in a chapter), physical violence, and mentions of blood. Read at your own discretion.

Chapter Fifteen: A Brief Respite

I turned to find Jamie plowing his way through the crowd, knocking aside the surrounding men with a single blow each. I knew Jamie was an excellent fighter but this was a whole other level. I could almost feel the anger and rage radiating from Jamie as he fought the men and yelled at them to back off.

With a start, I realized he was fighting for me. He was beating up all those men, going full power on them because of me. If it weren't for him, then I would have been much more bruised and bloodied. There was no way I could ever repay Jamie for this.

Someone grabbed me from behind. I tensed up but relaxed when I saw Dominic at my side, pulling me towards Grace. I limped my way towards her, pain jolting up my leg every time I stepped with my bad ankle. There was a look of horror on her face as she gave me a once-over.

"I'm okay, Gracie," I managed to get out. I gave her a reassuring smile, despite the pain I was in. I didn't need, or want, her to worry about me. She had enough to deal with already.

"Get him home," Dominic ordered, pushing me towards Grace. "You know the way." I didn't have time to ask Dominic what he meant. Almost immediately, he had turned back towards the crowd.

Grace pulled my arm around her shoulder. She dragged me towards an empty alley. I limped alongside her, wondering where we were going. I wanted to ask but didn't want to break the silence. I didn't mind it though. I was just grateful for another shoulder to lean on, someone to support me.

I only realized what was happening when she suddenly reached down, hitting something on the street. The tunnels. That was what Dominic must have meant. Undoubtedly, that was the safest way to get me home without getting caught.

When Grace had popped the tunnel entrance open, she pushed me towards the ladder. I gingerly climbed down it, trying to be mindful of my sprained ankle.

As soon as I stepped into the tunnels, it was like I had entered a whole other world. I was overtaken by the darkness but it was surprisingly comforting. Combined with the silence, it was almost peaceful, a stark contrast to the noise and glaring torches of the mob.

I felt Grace nearby, her presence comforting. It was nice to know that she was here with me and that I didn't have to go through this alone. She took a flashlight out of her pocket, turning it on. I flinched, squinting against the intense, almost painful brightness, as the tiny beam lit up the entirety of the tunnel. Thankfully, Grace shifted the beam away from me, giving my eyes a break. However, I could still feel her taking me in, her eyes running over every inch of my bruised and battered body. It was almost unsettling to be scrutinized like that, especially by her.

"Don't," I said. I didn't want her worrying about me in that way. Yet, that didn't stop Grace from reaching towards me, touching my forehead. Her sleeve came away covered in blood, my blood.

"No, Gracie. Don't look at me like that. I'm fine." I didn't need someone to coddle me. I could deal with a bit of pain and tough it out on my own. I was more than capable of taking care of myself.

"You are not fine!" Grace exclaimed, as she ran her fingers through my hair, pushing it away from my forehead. "They're monsters."

"Come on," I said, taking Grace's hand. "We should get home." It was the smart thing to do, to get her back to the safety of the American embassy before anyone could find us. However, I didn't move. I couldn't move, not when Grace was standing so close to me. I couldn't help but stare at her, taking in how beautiful she was. I wondered what would have happened if I had been the one to kiss her at the party, not Spence. Maybe none of this drama would have happened. Yet, if that were the case, I wouldn't be standing here with her right now, alone in this dark tunnel deep underground. Down here, away from the mayhem of the crowded streets, it felt like we were the only two people in the world.

"Gracie." I exhaled her name like a sigh, as I looked down at her, pushing her hair away from her face with one hand. I slipped my other arm around her waist, pulling her close to me. I didn't ever want to let go of her, not when I had her in my arms, where I could easily protect her. I took a deep breath, taking her in. "What are we going to do?" As long as I had her with me, I felt like we would be able to do anything and take on anyone we wanted.

I leaned in closer, resting my forehead against hers. I couldn't stop myself, not when her presence was so intoxicating. I closed my eyes, relishing this moment. If I had to leave Adria, I might not ever get a moment like this with her again. I pulled her closer, holding her to my chest as I took long, deep breaths. I felt her heartbeat against my chest, its steady rhythm calming me down. In this moment, standing with Grace and holding her in my arms was all I needed.

I remembered how I tried so hard to make a relationship with Lila work. However, I never felt anything more than friendship with her, even when she kissed me. It was similar with Yulia. Although I had felt more towards her, it wasn't enough to extinguish my feelings for Grace. With Grace, it was so different. Even though I was just holding her, I felt so much more than I ever did with Lila or Yulia. I had never felt so strongly about someone before, especially a girl. I felt so alive, like every single nerve in my body was on fire. Yet, at the same time, I felt a great sense of calmness, like Grace was grounding me to the earth and letting me know that I wasn't alone in this great big world.

"It will pass, Alexei," Grace said, bringing me back to the present. Suddenly, the seriousness of my current situation came crashing down on me.

"Will it?" I asked. Locked in that embrace with her, everything felt fine. But now, as we were slowly bringing ourselves back to the real world, my situation started feeling more dismal. I could only hope that it would pass and I could go back to living my life normally.

I pushed Grace away from me but at the last second, took her hand. If I had to be away from her forever, I didn't want to let go of her just yet. I kept holding her hand as she led us down the tunnels, aiming her flashlight at the unknown, shadowy depths ahead of us. Even though I knew these tunnels pretty well, thanks to my mother's map and all the time that I had spent exploring them, I still felt like something new was waiting for us, something dark and ominous that would threaten our lives if we weren't careful.

I climbed over the wall to the Russian embassy, after ensuring that Grace had safely made it back inside the American embassy. It had hurt like hell to do so but it was the only viable option for me to get back into the embassy. Even though it was pretty late at night, I couldn't risk taking the main road back to the embassy, in case I was noticed again. Besides, the trapdoors leading into the basements of each embassy were not an option, in case my father was having another clandestine meeting down there.

I walked in through the back door, taking the back stairwell up to my room. Once inside, I nearly collapsed on the floor. It took everything I had to settle down in my desk chair instead. Almost immediately, I heard a knock on my bedroom door. I looked up to find Mikhail coming in. He simply raised an eyebrow at me, taking in my bruised and battered body.

"That bad?" I asked, not wanting to hear Mikhail's response. He simply gestured towards the bathroom. I slowly followed him in, feeling pain all over my body with each step. By the time I made it in, Mikhail was already running a couple washcloths under the tap. I took that as my cue to sit down, so that Mikhail could once again clean me up.

"I really hope you won't make a habit of getting into fights," Mikhail said, as he started wiping down my face. I just shrugged. At the rate I seemed to be going, and the way fights seemed to find me, I wouldn't be surprised if that eventually turned out to be true. I noticed the white washcloth progressively getting redder.

"The cut on your forehead has reopened," Mikhail stated. I stood up, to look at myself in the mirror. I grimaced when I saw my reflection. I couldn't tell if I looked worse after the fight with Spence or the fight with those men tonight. My face was absolutely covered in blood, thanks to the reopened cut on my forehead and a new cut on my lip. My eyes were ringed in bruises and my right eye had swollen shut again. I looked like an absolute trainwreck. It was honestly a wonder that I wasn't dead yet.

"Sit, Lyosha," Mikhail said gently. I obediently sat back down, to let Mikhail finish cleaning me up. He wiped off all the blood on my face, as well as most of the blood coating my knuckles and my hair. He helped me take my shirt off, which I hadn't realized was covered in blood, and cleaned a large gash on my chest.

"Thank you," I said, once Mikhail had finished. "You didn't have to do this again."

"I'd rather not have you deal with the aftermath of a fight alone," Mikhail said, wringing out the washcloths. "I've been there and it's not pleasant. If you got into another fight, I wouldn't mind cleaning you up again."

"I promise I'll stay out of fights."

"I imagine that'd be a bit difficult, considering your name is all over international news?"

"I'm never going to live that down, will I?" I asked, with a sigh.

"I doubt it. Unless you managed to get your name cleared which, unfortunately, seems a bit unlikely." As much as I hated to admit it, Mikhail was right. I wouldn't be able to go back to my normal life until my name was cleared. I had no idea if that would ever happen, given how all the evidence seemed to suggest I had murdered Spence.

"Don't worry, Lyosha, like I said earlier, I will always believe that you are innocent. It's just a matter of getting the public to believe the same," Mikhail said.

"And that's why I've decided to give up my diplomatic status and immunity," I said, biting the bullet. I saw surprise briefly flash across his eyes before he composed himself again.

"That's not going to be an easy thing to do," Mikhail stated, looking at me intently.

"No, it won't be. But it'll be the only way to convince the public that I'm innocent. If I keep my diplomatic immunity, the police won't be able to question me and the public will continue to believe that I murdered Spence. I have to let the police question me, to prove that I'm innocent."

Mikhail murmured in understanding. "Of course. That's an extremely valid point. Have you discussed this with your father?"

"Not yet. I will tell him in the morning."

Mikhail nodded in approval. "That sounds like a solid plan. Your situation has only been adding to your father's stress. He's told me that the sooner you make a decision, the sooner the embassy can move forward." I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. I wasn't surprised that my father just wanted to get me dealt with so he could move onto more important things. He probably couldn't care less about what I decided to do.

"He just wants me out of his hair, doesn't he?" I asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Mikhail hesitated, an indication that I wasn't going to like his answer.

"Well, for one, this isn't good for diplomatic relations. As the new ambassador, your father really wants to strengthen Russian ties with each embassy." Of course. It always came back to diplomatic relations. My father had always been big on that. Now that he was the ambassador, I could only imagine how much diplomatic relations affected his everyday decisions.

"Do you know what my father wants me to do?"

"He didn't say," Mikhail admitted, his face open. I took a moment to let that sink in. I knew Mikhail would never lie to me. My father, on the other hand, I wasn't so sure about. He had lied to me and tested me many times as a child. Especially with the shows that he could put on in public, I learned to grow very wary of him and never quite trusted him, always feeling like I was walking a fine line with him.

"Would you like me to be there tomorrow morning when you tell your father?" Mikhail asked.

"I think I'll be alright. Thanks though." As much as I would have liked to have Mikhail by my side, this was something I'd have to do on my own.

Mikhail nodded in understanding. "Of course. I'm here if you need me."

"Honestly, I can't thank you enough for always being there for me." Ever since I was a child, Mikhail had always been there to pick me up after every bad day and scraped knee. I didn't realize that would extend to fights, now that I had gotten older.

"Lyosha, you don't need to thank me," Mikhail said, looking at me sincerely. "I'll always be here for you. If not in body, then in spirit." I nodded, unbelievably thankful for Mikhail's kind heart. He wrapped me in a warm hug. I sunk into it, not wanting to let go. I could always count on Mikhail to ensure that I felt loved and had someone to turn to. I honestly didn't know what I would do without him.

"I'll see you in the morning, okay?" Mikhail said, after I broke off the hug. I simply nodded in response. "Have a good night, Lyosha. Sweet dreams."

I once again awoke to the extremely enticing smell of food. As I rolled out of bed, I felt a wave of pain move throughout my body. At least I didn't have a pounding headache. My stomach suddenly grumbled, only making the food smell that much more intoxicating. Sure enough, I found a tray of food sitting on my desk. It was obvious who had left it there, even though there wasn't a note on the tray. I honestly didn't know what I did to deserve Mikhail and his unwavering love for me.

I removed the serving lid from the tray, revealing a plate of scrambled eggs on toast with sides of baked beans and avocado. It was still steaming hot, likely just prepared. I immediately devoured the contents of the plate, washing it down with a glass of ice-cold milk. Again, there was a small cup of water with two Advil pills, which I also downed.

Just as I had finished the water, I heard a knock on the door. I was unsurprised to find Mikhail walking into my room.

"You look better," Mikhail commented, taking me in.

"All thanks to you," I replied. "Though I'm still sore everywhere."

"That's normal. You really should take it easy. You've had a very rough few days." That was an understatement. Two hardcore fights within forty-eight hours of each other. It was honestly a miracle I was still alive and functioning.

"I'll try." In reality, Mikhail and I both knew that wasn't going to happen. Thanks to my father, I always pushed myself to my limits, forcing myself through the pain. I had a very difficult time taking it easy because I was so used to going all the way, and more.

"What else has my father said about me to the media?" I asked, treading carefully.

"You know your father, he hasn't said much," Mikhail said. "The key point he keeps making is that you're protected under diplomatic immunity and that the embassy will be privately discussing your next steps."

"Wow, my father really wants me to quickly come to a decision, doesn't he?" I muttered. "Has he had any meetings about this?"

"Not that I'm aware of. He hasn't discussed this much with me." It looked like he wasn't kidding about this being solely my decision to make.

"Are you still thinking of renouncing your diplomatic status?" Mikhail asked.

"What other choice do I have? If my father wants me to come to a decision, then this is the decision I've made. The longer I wait, the worse this will be dragged out. I just want this to be over and renouncing my diplomatic status is the quickest way to do so."

Mikhail looked at me intently, a grave look on his face that worried me. "Lyosha, I will always support you, whatever you do. I just hope that you've really thought this through. By giving up your diplomatic status, you'll be losing so much more than just that."

"I know. And I am prepared to lose all that." I knew I was sacrificing a lot, like general protection in Adria and exemption from criminal allegations. It was funny how diplomatic immunity was supposed to be the one thing to keep me safe and protect me from harm. Now, it was stifling me and keeping me from moving forward. The longer I drew this out and stayed protected under diplomatic immunity, the worse things would get. The mobs would keep protesting and Spence's real killer would remain free to commit more murders as they pleased. So yes, I had to give up my diplomatic immunity now, in order to end this all as soon as possible.

"It looks like you've really given this some thought. In that case, I'm not going to stop you from pursuing this," Mikhail said. Although his face was neutral, I could still see the concern in his eyes and knew that he really was looking out for me. Even if he didn't necessarily agree with my decision, I knew he would support me to the end. Besides, I knew that giving up my diplomatic status was the right thing to do at this time; I could feel it all the way to my core. There was no going back now, just moving forward.

"Your father is in his office doing paperwork. He's not overly busy at the moment and seems to be in a relatively decent mood," Mikhail said. I nodded, taking in the underlying message. Now was a good time for me to tell my father about renouncing my diplomatic status and immunity.

"Are you sure you don't want me there, for moral support?" Mikhail asked one last time.

"I'm sure." I had prepared myself for this, facing the music alone.

"Let me know how it goes after, alright?"

"I will." Mikhail smiled then took the empty tray from my desk. We walked out of my room together in a comfortable silence.

"Good luck in there," Mikhail said, giving me a supportive pat on the back. I glanced over at the closed double doors to my father's office then back at Mikhail. He gave me a nod of encouragement before heading off. I took a deep breath, steeling myself for what was to come as I knocked on my father's door.

"Alexei. What a surprise," my father commented, opening the door.

"I have made my decision," I said, trying my best to sound confident. My father simply nodded, opening the door wider to let me in. I saw piles of paperwork and an open laptop on my father's desk as I walked in. Yet, he made no motion to sit back down at his desk, instead, standing by the large windows. He didn't say anything as he stared me down, like he was expecting me to make the first move.

"I have decided to renounce my diplomatic status and thus, my diplomatic immunity," I stated, after a brief silence. I wasn't sure how my father would react. Part of me expected him to be angry, to yell at me and throw me against the wall, or beat me up again. However, his reaction was the last thing that I expected.

"Excellent. I am glad you were able to come to a decision so quickly," my father said, nodding. Although his face remained perfectly composed and neutral, I could have sworn there was a hint of approval in his eyes. Had I actually done something right, for once?

"I am disappointed that you did not take advantage of my high level of diplomatic immunity," my father continued, as he started pacing. "However, now that you have renounced your diplomatic immunity, you can be taken in for questioning. As you can imagine, all of this political unrest is making the situation worse. Once the politics are out of the way, the situation will become much more rational. Only then, can the murderer of the cadet be found and tried." My father looked right at me as he said that last part. I gulped, trying not to balk under my father's intimidating stare. Did he still think I had murdered Spence?

"Whether or not you murdered the cadet is for you alone to know," my father said, answering my unspoken question. "Nonetheless, settling this diplomatic unrest will allow for a proper, unbiased investigation into the cadet's death and a subsequent, rightful punishment for the accused." He paced more, looking out the window before turning to me again.

"The sooner your decision is made public, the better. I will set up a press conference, announcing the renunciation of your diplomatic immunity, and a formal questioning with law enforcement." My father walked over to his desk, grabbing his phone. He immediately started tapping around on it, before making a bunch of phone calls. I stood there silently, watching my father pace as he talked. It was a rapid mix of Russian, Adrian, and English that was quite hard to follow. When he hung up for the last time, he turned towards me, a smile on his face.

"The press conference has been set up. I will be heading over to the American embassy shortly, to discuss the press conference and the implications of your decisions with the American ambassador and his staff. After that, the press conference will be held from twelve noon until two p.m. today. At that time, an official vehicle will take you to the central police station for your questioning. I expect you to be well-dressed and on your best behaviour. Is that clear?"

"Yes, father," I replied, obedient as ever. I would do what was right and not mess this up. I would go to the police station and answer all their questions. After all, I had nothing to hide and I was doing the honourable thing. Yet, it still felt like I was walking into a trap.

"Can I trust that you will stay out of trouble in the meantime? Will you stay in the embassy until you are to be taken to your questioning?" My father gave me a hard look, like he was staring into my core, trying to determine if I was telling the truth.

"Yes, father."

"Excellent. I will see you then. You are free to go," my father said, with a nod. I nodded back then headed out of his office.

As I walked back up to my room, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off. I wasn't sure what it was; maybe it was the way my father so easily accepted my decision without relentlessly questioning me or the way he managed to arrange a press conference and an official questioning so quickly. Either way, if something were to happen to me, I had to let someone know, someone who would share and understand my fears. There was only one person who would really understand what it felt like to be walking into a death sentence, one person who knew what it was like to be fighting against the whole world. Grace. It was time to say goodbye to her.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Next chapter will be up between Jan. 26 and Feb. 3.

I felt like this chapter was a bit filler. Yet, it's significant in its own way, as you will see in a few chapters. I included a couple foreshadowy bits; we'll see if anyone picks up on them ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ See you in a few weeks!