The next two days passed quickly for Alex. It was dreadful, that first night that he'd had to knock on Yassen's bedroom door at two in the morning to ask for his pills. Their chat had alleviated some of his despair, but not all of it. Not by any means. Alex still needed the ritual of it. Yassen handed them over without comment, allowing Alex to pad back to his own room without following. Alex appreciated the space- it would have been utterly meaningless if he'd insisted on supervising the whole thing.

Pressing his clenched fist to his lips and inhaling the chemical scent didn't inspire the same relief as before. He breathed deeper. Nothing. Quashed the urge to lick one of the tablets.

Perhaps it was because he knew the other man knew. That if Alex didn't come back soon that he'd come looking. That'd he'd count the pills. It was hard to be certain that Alex was choosing to live while also knowing that Yassen would forcibly revive him if he chose otherwise.

Maybe that in itself was a comfort, if a frustrating one.

Yassen had been waiting up to retrieve the pills when Alex returned to tip them into his palm. The room had reeked of crisp, cold pine air and tobacco. It was no surprise; Alex had heard the window shut as he approached the door. He hadn't said anything except to wish Alex a good night. Returning to his room, Alex lay awake staring at his ceiling until his eyes slid shut of their own accord. Having a room to himself was a little odd now: he hadn't realized how used to the small sounds of Yassen moving about in order to fall asleep himself. The second night had gone just the same.

During the day, his demons were a little easier to deal with. The bunny slopes were open, though the snow was thin, icy, and wet. Alex played around on the snowboard Yassen had rented for him for a few hours, mostly to justify to any observers why they'd come to the resort town in the first place. Once that was out of the way, he quickly busied himself with the previous generation PlayStation gathering dust in the entertainment center. Many of the games lining the wooden shelves were ones he'd already beaten on Tom's console, but he found several that he'd always meant to play but hadn't gone around to.

Socializing was another thing he didn't have to worry about. Frequently visiting them was an outdoors cat that liked to supervise the properties on behalf of her human owners, imperiously staring at Alex through the sliding glass door until he relented and let her inside. Purdy was a fat, white, long haired thing with bright yellow eyes and a purr that reminded him of a diesel engine. She also tended to meow in response to any sound directed at her. Alex had gotten fond of carrying her around the house with him, stroking her ears and maintaining a never-ending conversation that earned him the occasional eye roll from the assassin.

Really, it was his fault for pointing out how much Alex liked animals in the first place.

Yassen spent most of his time on the computer doing something with the dark web and finding them new identities. Alex didn't ask much more than that, so they sat in silence in the living room for most of the day; Alex playing his games and talking to Purdy while Yassen stared at his computer screen as though it contained the secrets of the universe.

Halfway through Castlevania, Alex glanced over at Yassen from where he'd sprawled out on the couch, Purdy balanced on his lap. He paused the game and stretched. "Any luck?"

Yassen didn't look away from the screen. "Not yet."

Alex hummed and began tickling the feline behind her ears, feeling her purr vibrate deep within her chest. "What if we stayed here awhile?"

"You have to go back to school." Yassen said automatically.

Alex shrugged. "I can't really do that with MI6 looking for me anyway. Not here. Maybe I'll get lucky and Smithers will give them enough trouble to not bother with us."

"If he lives that long," Yassen muttered, typing something.

Alex stiffened. "What do you mean by that?"

Yassen looked away from his screen for the first time. After a moment, he leaned backwards in his seat and cracked his spine. "Your gadget man has gone AWOL with a lot of classified information and the intent to use said information to damage the agency. If MI6 hasn't killed him already, they will before official charges can be filed against them." Yassen shook his head, apparently immune to Alex's rising panic. "He knows this, little Alex. Why do you think he didn't insist on you leaving Kingman with him? I doubt it was because of any actual faith in me."

Shooting to his feet, Alex dropped a displeased Purdy on the couch and yanked out his iPod.

Smithers couldn't be dead! He was too clever for one. Alex swallowed, mind racing. He knew he should have demanded to know why the man hadn't pushed him harder about leaving Yassen. Spinning the trackpad, he quickly selected the call feature and watched the screen change. "Why didn't you say something before?"

Yassen stood as Alex tucked in one earbud. "What are you doing?"

"Calling him. It's untraceable, remember?"

Yassen held his hand out for the device. "It's too risky."

Alex glared at him. "It's not. His gadgets have never let me down before. Besides, I promised him I'd call once in a while to let him know I was still alive. I won't tell him anything important."

Yassen grimaced and let his hand drop. "I'd rather you tell him nothing at all. You don't know what's important and what's not. There's a dozen innocuous details he could probably use to piece together our location."

"You can talk to him too, if you want," Alex grumbled, offering Yassen the second earbud. "I just want to make sure he's okay first."

It seemed like ages before the screen confirmed that Alex had connected to the satellite and dialed the only number saved to the contacts list. He was practically chewing on his pounding heart. Smithers had risked a lot to make sure Alex was okay and to get him some gadgets. All the man wanted in return was the occasional call to ensure he was still alive and Alex hadn't even managed that. He was a complete jerk. Now, Smithers could be dead and Alex would never know for sure.

"Alex, my dear boy! It's so wonderful to hear from you!"

Alex sagged in relief, forcing Yassen to lean with him to avoid tugging his earbud out. Not only was Smithers alive, but he'd gone back to his old, jovial self. The man's American accent had been alright, but his somberness had been another thing altogether. "Oh, good. I was so worried about you, Mr. Smithers. Yassen said MI6 was probably going to kill you soon if they hadn't already. He's on the line too."

"There's no need to fuss. He's not wrong in that they're trying, but I have no intention of letting them succeed. I've taken many precautions to ensure Dr. Wood and I remain undetected and perfectly safe from harm until we've finished negotiating the terms of our witness protection and testimony agreements." Smithers cleared his throat. "What about you, Alex? I hope you're doing well. Forgive me for saying so, but you seemed rather under the weather, the last time we saw each other."

Alex snorted. "You seemed well yourself. I'm much healthier now, thanks for asking. It turns out that I was eating so poorly because of some tears in my stomach and throat, but now I'm on these pills for it."

"That's wonderful news. I take it you've been seen by a doctor?"

"That's right." Alex bit his lip, but decided not to say anything about all the other problems she'd found. He didn't want to worry the man, especially when Mr. Smithers had already done so much already. The last thing he wanted was for Smithers to keep going out of his way. It was enough to know that the man was alive.

O

So this was the infamous Mr. Smithers. Alex's descriptions had mostly been focused on events as opposed to details, but somehow the man's unnaturally upbeat manner of speaking came as no surprise. Yassen wasn't entirely sure what he was expecting from the man's voice. It was a little younger than he'd expected. Careful. Probing. Asked plenty of open ended questions while offering only a few reassuring details in return.

"Very glad to hear it, old bean. How goes your pill problem?"

Alex winced. "About the same as ever. It's not any worse, anyway."

Yassen eyed him askance, but didn't chime in about his latest issue. He saw no reason to provide any information at all, so he hardly took issue with Alex's terse answers. So far, Alex had done a decent job of keeping things vague and making no references to specific locations. Smithers hadn't even asked.

Expression blanking, Alex stared unblinkingly forward. It took Yassen only a split second to realize that Alex was having an absence seizure. Mentally, he began counting.

Mr. Smithers made sympathetic noises. "Sometimes no news is good news. Do be cautious, though. These things are notoriously difficult to judge on your own."

Yassen interjected before Alex could be expected to contribute. The boy hadn't seen fit to mention his seizures and Yassen didn't intend to change that. "He isn't judging it on his own, it's being carefully monitored," Yassen pointed out. "I can assure you, his use isn't escalating."

"Ah, Mr. Gregorovich. Finally, a voice to put to the name."

Alex blinked and glanced at Yassen, startled.

Yassen held up six fingers- the number of seconds Alex had been out of it. The boy scowled and opened his mouth, but Yassen had grown tired of listening in. If speaking to the gadget man was unavoidable, he might as well gain something from it. "I need to know everything you do about the injections Alex received from MI6. Dr. Wood was able to pass on your letters, but I imagine you summed things up out of consideration for you audience. I want everything."

"May I ask why?"

"I'm certain you can guess."

"I try not to presume."

Yassen inhaled slowly. Sharing information was a tactical decision that would benefit them both. What Smithers was really asking for was his motives. Those would hardly come as a surprise. "Very well. Alex's withdrawal was worse than anticipated and I need to know what to expect long term. The doctor I took him to was adequate for solving his short term problems, but treating him once we're settled will likely require more information than I currently have."

Alex fidgeted with his earbud, frowning.

Smithers gave a short, thoughtful pause. "You surprise me, Mr. Gregorovich. I'd have expected your first priority would be the chemical interest in your blood."

Yassen refused to be sucked into admitting his attachment to the boy outright. It was a conversation he was sick of having. "I already know what makes my blood interesting. I imagine there will be many disappointed people when the mystery is solved."

"I see. Well, I'm afraid I essentially explained things in my notes to the degree that I understand the A216 trials. While I've dabbled in the medical field here and there, I'm certainly not a doctor. At least, not of medicine. If you'd like, I'd be happy to give you a copy of the files that I, shall we say, liberated. Perhaps a physician would be able to make more of them than I can." The clattering of a keyboard filtered across the line. "Do you know how to set up an untraceable email account, Mr. Gregorovich?"

"I have several." Yassen glanced at the desktop and rattled off an address, already fairly confident he understood enough to avoid tracing from the former MI6 engineer. There was little he could do if Smithers were to include some sort of virus with the information, but he would just have to trust that the other man wouldn't compromise them. It was an acceptable risk considering the value of the information.

Alex cleared his throat. "You said Briar is with you?"

"I'm here," came the cheerful voice.

"How long have you been on the line?" Yassen demanded. "Who else is listening in?"

"Just me. Smithers called me in a minute ago. I've been traveling with him. We're trying to recruit Scalia too. Get the whole band back together and all that jazz. But never mind about that, how have you guys been? I bet your hair is even longer, Alex. Have you been conditioning like I told you to?"

Alex sighed. "It's so much work. I don't want to."

"It's so worth it, I promise. Besides, you don't want to get split ends!"

Yassen did his best not to roll his eyes. Failed. He tugged on Alex's earbud in a clear signal as he said, "Get Mr. Smithers off the line, Wood. I want to talk to you alone."

"Why?" Alex asked, fingers clamping down on the earphone. "What am I not supposed to hear?"

While he couldn't avoid some kind of explanation, Yassen wasn't sure how truthful he wanted to be. The last time he'd talked to the not-a-real-CIA-agent, it had been unexpectedly cathartic in a way he hadn't allowed himself since John had left Scorpia. Hearing her tinny, annoying drawl on the other end, now telling Smithers to 'shoo', only made him realize he needed it again. Her advice had been unexpectedly solid, but that was more of a bonus than anything. Honestly, he was annoyingly aware of how much he just wanted someone to listen to him complain without having to explain Alex's history of bizarre behavior in order to get them up to speed.

As unflattering a revelation as it was, at least it was an outlet that didn't involve drinking.

Briar saved him from answering. "Client-patient confidentiality, Alex! If he wants to talk about how much he hates your hair for the next hour, that's his prerogative. Also, the X-Files can't watch themselves. You can have a turn next. I'll tell you everything that's been happening on the Jersey Shore."

"You watched ahead without me?" Alex tipped his head back in a whine. He growled a quick 'fine' and handed Yassen the earbud. "Don't run down the battery," he warned him, scooping up Purdy and taking the stairs up to his room.

Yassen paused, pulling out a cigarette and cracking open the sliding door that led onto the balcony. He was up to two packs a day, but quitting one bad habit was already asking a lot. "Wood?"

"Still here," Briar said. "Smithers is in the other room getting the files ready to send. So. How's that midlife crisis treating you?"