Chapter 6

The bandages came off of Danny's eyelids the next morning, enabling him to see. Alec had had a pair of glasses made up in his prescription to replace the ones that had been lost. Figuring out how they'd put them on the bandaged head and face without causing the wearer pain took a bit of maneuvering, but they finally sorted it out.

Alec was relieved to be able to roll his young friend out of the hospital that afternoon, with his leg in its cast propped up in the wheelchair and a large bag of his medications and replacement bandages perched on his lap.

The bandages on Danny's head and face had been reduced from fully wrapped around his head to a band across his forehead and another around his nose and cheeks over the worst of the burns. The ones on his hands now resembled fingerless gloves rather than mittens. The red, peeling skin on his fingers looked painful.

Alec wasn't sure if the lack of bandages covering the raw, red skin and obvious cuts and bruises made it better or worse. It did mean that Danny was healing, so he took it as a win, unpleasant as it was to look at.

They got horrified and curious stares when they reached the hotel where they would spend the night. Alec made sure to give anyone who looked a scowl they'd never forget.

Danny huffed softly. "Are you glaring at them, Alec? Or are they really that terrified of me?"

Alec grunted. "They should keep their eyes to themselves."

"How can they," Danny said mildly, though his uninjured hand shook on the armrest of the wheelchair. "when I look like the invisible man? Or a mummy. Pity it's not closer to Halloween. I'd have a smashing costume this year."

"What do you need a costume for, when you dress like an old man every day?" Alec snarked. Danny's many wooly jumpers, which he wore regardless of the season, were a common source of teasing by Alec.

"I like my cardigans, thank you," Danny responded with excessive priggishness, his spine still stiff with strain. "They're very comfortable."

"You look like a kid dressing up in his grandfather's clothes."

"This hypothetical grandfather must have wonderful taste, in that case."

"Good god."

. . . . .

Their train was to leave the station at 9:00 AM, so they had the rest of the day and night to rest before their trip.

That night, Alec dutifully measured out the correct dosages of Danny's medications and changed the bandages, smearing the healing ointment all over the leg wound and burns to prevent infection and scarring.

He had handed his phone to Danny so he could read Q's message (all ones and zeros, which Alec recognized was binary code, though he was unable to read it).

Whatever the message was had the boffin smiling, so naturally, Alec asked what it said.

"Oh, it's...it's a tech joke. You wouldn't get it. It would take too much time to explain, and then the joke wouldn't be funny anymore."

Alec supposed that that was fair, but Danny must have sensed that he was pouting internally, because he sighed softly and started to explain it. As predicted, the joke was not funny once it had been thoroughly explained.

"That's ridiculous."

"It's a joke."

"Still, it doesn't make any sense," Alec insisted.

"It's a joke!"

. . . . .

The plan was to take the train from Niamey in Niger to Oran in Algeria, a journey which would take almost an entire day and night.

Q had booked them a room on the train that was thankfully big enough for Alec to wheel Danny's chair in. Danny had crutches, but the cast on his arm and bruised ribs made them awkward to use.

Alec settled Danny on the lower bunk bed, eliciting a relieved sigh from the younger man. He was still in considerable pain, and the constant nightmares whenever he closed his eyes left him exhausted.

His charge taken care of, Alec tossed his bag onto the top bunk and climbed up.

"Alec," Danny said drowsily, "Are you going to take a nap, too? It's nine in the morning." Then he said, apologetically, "I kept you up last night, didn't I? Maybe you should just put me on a pl-" He choked on the word again.

"I'm going to catch up on my reading," Alec said, pulling a paperback out of his bag and settling down into a comfortable position. "I slept well enough," he reassured his friend. "No need to change our plans. Go to sleep, Danny."

He finally relaxed enough to crack open his book when Danny's soft breaths slowed, indicating that he had fallen asleep. Hopefully the kid would be able to get some actual rest before the nightmares started.

Sure enough, Alec was a third of the way through the book when Danny began shifting and tossing in his sleep, accompanied by small, distressed sounds. Alec clambered down and gently shook his shoulder.

"Hey," he said softly, "Hey, kiddo. Wake up."

The green eyes snapped open, looking around wildly, disoriented. The skinny chest gasped for breath.

"Hey, it's okay. You're safe," Alec said, resisting the urge to ruffle the messy hair; the skin on the sunburnt scalp was still sensitive. "Hey, there you are," he said when Danny finally focused on him, blinking rapidly to make out who he was without the help of his glasses. "Time to wake up."

"Alec?"

"Who else? Are you hungry? It's past lunch. I'll order something." One normally couldn't order food to eat in the individual rooms, but Alec could be very persuasive if he put his mind to it. He wasn't going to subject Danny to more stares than necessary by making him go to the dining car.

Danny stared up at the underside of the top bunk. "Not really," he said, sounding too tired for someone who had just woken from a nap. "You go ahead."

Alec sat down on the bed, gently so he wouldn't jostle any injuries. "That wasn't a request, Danny," he said seriously. "You have to eat something or the meds will upset your stomach."

Danny turned his head away towards the wall.

Alec sighed. "Toast and soup it is."

The younger man said nothing, and continued to lie on the bed, staring blindly at the wall while Alec ordered their late lunch.

"Danny." Alec sat on the edge of the bed again. "I know it's hard, but-"

"But he gave his life for me, so I'd better appreciate it?" Danny said tersely through thinned lips.

Alec sighed. "No. He would have died regardless of whether you were there or not. But you're alive. You survived. You can't dwell on what happened."

Danny squeezed his eyes shut and his breaths grew shaky.

"I've had comrades die, too. It's not easy, dealing with it. But you can't keep feeling guilty about it. It'll eat you up inside."

Alec watched the tears roll down the sunburnt cheeks.

"Is this the first time you've seen someone die?" he asked softly.

The thin shoulders rose and lowered in a short shrug. "My godfather."

Ah, Major Boothroyd, who had been Q before the current one. "Your godfather was in his eighties and died in hospital after a good, long life happily blowing things up in his labs."

"He was nice," Danny said in a soft, broken voice, and Alec knew that he wasn't speaking of the old man, but of Woodslow. "He was funny, too."

Alec sighed and reached out to touch the casted arm. "He was. I'm glad he opened up enough to you to show that side of himself." He smiled softly. "Seems you have a way with us double-ohs, eh?"

Danny shuddered.

"I'm not planning on dying anytime soon, Danny," Alec said, correctly interpreting the cause of the trembling. "I might die, but it's the job. He knew that. We all know that. It doesn't make it any easier for those of us left behind, but it's not unexpected."

Danny sniffed.

"I know that you weren't expecting it, and I'm sorry that it had to happen on your first mission, and that you got hurt like this. I'm sorry that you had to make the kinds of choices that no one wants to make." Alec sighed and prepared to strike. He didn't want to, but the kid needed it, if he was going to continue working at MI6, especially in the position that he was being primed for.

"But that's how it is with this job. I know- I know that you've wanted to work for Q-Branch for a long time, maybe to the point that you might have idealized it. But it's part of a bigger organization, and it deals with death all the time. We kill and we get killed. If you can't deal with it…"

Alec got a heated glare, cutting him off without a word.

"I can deal with it."

He smiled inwardly. There. There was the fiery attitude that the little spitfire hid under all those hideous jumpers.

He stood to answer the knock at the door. "Then you're going to eat?" he asked lightly.

"Yes." Danny struggled to sit up on his own. Alec let him.

He was a strong kid. He'd survived the crash, and he'd survive the aftermath. Alec would make sure of that.

. . . . .

The long train ride from Niamey to Oran in Algeria took until midmorning the next day. Even though Danny had slept for most of the journey, he collapsed into the hotel bed in Oran with an exhausted sigh.

Q had been thoughtful enough to allow them a few hours to rest in a hotel in Oran before their seven-hour ferry ride across the Alboran Sea to Alicante in Spain. Then they would spend the rest of the day and night at the hotel there.

Alec watched his young friend carefully for signs that he was about to have a meltdown of some kind, but he seemed to be adjusting to his grief and dealing with his pain and trauma well enough on his own.

Of course, there were the nightmares, which Alec knew from experience was something near impossible to prevent. Time and closure were the only salve for them. Time they had plenty of, but closure would have to come later.

From Alicante, they would take the train through France to Calais,where they would stay overnight at a hotel, taking them to the end of their third day of travel. The ferry ride from Calais to Dover was a short one, then a couple of hours on the train would have them home in London around noon.

Tanner had messaged that Woodslow's funeral would be the morning after their arrival in London. Alec debated on whether to tell Danny or not; on one hand, it might provide the closure he needed, but on the other, the funeral might be too much for him to handle right now.

In the end, he had told him. The younger man had sat silently, staring at his fingers, which were picking at the bandages on his hands.

"Did you find out?" he asked presently. "How he died?"

"There was no sand in his lungs," Alec said gently. "He died before the storm."

Danny's lower lip quivered before he gained control of it. "That's- that's better, isn't it?"

Alec thought about it for a moment and nodded. "Yes, I'd prefer it that way. Suffocating isn't a nice way to die."

The younger man let out a gusty sigh and his shoulders sagged in relief. "Thanks, Alec."

. . . . .

Alec felt the tension in his shoulders loosen a little as he pushed Danny's wheelchair out into Vauxhall Station in London. Commuters bustled past them, hurrying to get to their destinations.

There were still curious glances at the bandages on Danny's face, of course, but Alec was in a good enough mood to let them pass.

"Alec. Alec, stop."

"What's wrong?" Alec scanned the area, looking for threats and seeing none that stood out from the ordinary. His hand went to his weapon.

Danny pointed at a dark corner. "There's a kitten."

"What?"

The insistent finger pointed more vigorously. "There. A kitten."

Sure enough, there was a shivering, grey lump of fur in the corner.

"We're not- No, no, stay in that chair," Alec said, and pushed Danny's shoulders to press him back into the chair. "We'll go get it. Sit your skinny arse back down."

Stifling an aggrieved sigh, Alec maneuvered the wheelchair towards the corner and to the miserable-looking kitten who froze and looked ready to bolt.

"Don't scare it," Danny scolded softly.

Alec paused for a moment, unsure as to how to approach the terrified kitten. Then he shook his head, realizing the ridiculousness of an assassin being afraid to approach a damned kitten.

"Alright," he murmured, "Are you going to make this difficult for us?"

The kitten stared at him with glowing yellow eyes. Alec could see its rapid, nervous breaths, but it didn't move.

"Okay," he said gently, moving forward in a crouch to make himself seem smaller and less intimidating (imagine that, an inner voice scoffed, an assassin trying to seem less intimidating?).

Finally, he managed to get his hands around the small creature, which immediately began squirming in his hands.

A soft cardigan was held out to him. "Here," Danny said, with an intent expression on his face, "In here. It's warm."

Danny, now in only his shirtsleeves, accepted the shivering bundle with a soft coo. "It's alright, little one," he said softly, cuddling it to his chest. "I've got you. You're safe now."

The pitiful creature opened its tiny mouth and let out a forlorn mewl.

"Yes, I know," Danny sighed, "But it's going to be okay."

. . . . .

Tanner was waiting for them when they arrived at MI6. He raised a curious eyebrow at the bedraggled kitten bundled in Danny's cardigan, but otherwise said nothing.

"006," he said, looking at Alec, "She's waiting for your report." He paused. "She's not happy with you."

Alec sighed. "I know." He looked down at Danny, who returned his gaze steadily.

"I'll be okay, Alec," he said quietly. "You shouldn't keep her waiting."

Alec relinquished control of the wheelchair to Tanner, who maneuvered it towards the medical wing, and made his way up to his meeting with M.

. . . . .

Growling angrily under his breath, Alec stormed towards Q-Branch, where he had been ordered to go ("Straight there, Trevelyan, and no side trips"). MI6 employees flattened themselves against the wall as he passed, their eyes wide open in terror at the sight of a murderously irate double-oh.

He barged into Q-Branch, causing one tech to fumble and drop a tray of test tubes and another to set his eyebrows on fire.

"Ah, 006," the quartermaster said, approaching him with some trepidation. "I don't suppose you've brought back any of your equipment?"

Alec stared at him with furious eyes.

"No, of course not," Q muttered. "Silly of me. Ah, I've got your equipment ready for your next mission," he continued, leading the way to his desk.

Alec's next mission was to be a four-month job in Siberia. It was partly punishment for disobeying M's orders, and likely partly to prevent Alec and Danny from solidifying their emotional ties to each other, courtesy of the Psych department.

He would be leaving immediately. He wouldn't even have time to attend Woodslow's funeral.

Alec waited impatiently as Q explained all of the gadgets and how they worked. When he finally, finally had his plane ticket in his hand and was about to turn to leave, the old man cleared his throat nervously.

"How is he?" he asked, somewhat timidly. "Is he alright?"

Alec softened. The old man was very fond of his protégé, after all. He was bound to be worried sick about him.

"He's…" Alec noticed the rest of the Q-Branch techs in the vicinity very obviously trying to listen in. "He'll be alright."

The techs exchanged worried glances, as though debating amongst each other whether to believe Alec or not. Now no one was pretending to do anything other than listening to Alec's news.

"He's not right now, but he will be," Alec clarified.

Everyone down here liked their young colleague, whom they treated as a sort of cute, ridiculously intelligent mascot. Alec had made it a point to watch each tech's interactions with Danny to make sure that there were no bad feelings or jealousy towards his friend. He had only detected genuine admiration for the genius' brilliance and creativity.

"Don't mention planes around him, at least for a while," he added. The boffins were supposed to be smart, but there were different kinds of intelligence in the world. The denizens of Q-Branch tended to not be very good at figuring out appropriate responses to personal situations.

Serious, understanding nods all around.

A small man, balding and very nervous - the head of Danny's department, Michaels or Michaelson or some such name - approached Alec.

"Thank you," he said anxiously, "For looking after him. He's- That is, we- We like him," he stammered, worrying his sleeve. "He's so gifted and easy to get along with, and well, he's a nice lad. So thanks for taking care of him."

Alec stared at the fidgeting man, then glanced around the room. They all had the same grateful look on their faces.

Damn the kid, Alec thought. He'd have to work on rebuilding his reputation after this.

. . . . .

Alec had just enough time before his flight to go see Danny.

He met Tanner rushing out of the hospital wing as though hellhounds were nipping at his heels.

"What happened?" he demanded.

Tanner loosened his tie and mopped his sweaty brow. Alec had never seen him so...on edge. Tanner was usually unflappable in times of crisis, which was why he made a good Chief of Staff. There was always a crisis going on somewhere.

Tanner eyed Alec warily, as though he thought he might bite, then sighed.

"I debriefed Frobisher," he said, using Danny's alias.

Alec didn't like it, but he understood that it needed to be done, since Danny was the only one who had survived the mission and could report on what had happened on the ground.

"He was...upset. Quite understandably, of course," Tanner continued. "By the time we finished, his father was there outside and well…" He gestured helplessly.

"Ah," Alec said.

He had never met Danny's father, but he could well guess what had happened. Damien Drake had retired at the height of his double-oh career to raise his infant son, so it was very likely that he felt quite strongly about his son's well-being.

"Yes," Tanner sighed, looking relieved that his ordeal was over. "Erm," he said, collecting himself. "Good luck on your next mission."

He looked rather sorry for Alec, nearly as sorry as Alec felt for himself. Four months in Siberia in the middle of winter!

Alec thanked him quickly and rushed to see if he could catch Danny before he had to fly out.

He found his room, then cracked open the door to check on father and son.

Danny was curled up against his father, sobbing brokenly into his chest.

The ex-agent's eyes snapped to Alec's through the crack, and his arms wrapped even more protectively around his son.

Alec nodded and closed the door. He regretted not being able to talk to his friend before his long mission, but there was no time to wait, and this was a private moment that he could not intrude upon.

. . . . .

Note:

I'm writing this during the COVID-19 pandemic, so I couldn't find any actual trains going this route for reference. I don't know if it's because travel has stopped, or if it's because there isn't an actual route, but for the sake of the story, please accept my travel itinerary. I could have had Alec and boffin drive home, but that didn't seem very comfortable (75 hours in a car seems pretty long. I don't know how comfortable that would be for an injured person, even if they made frequent stops at hotels along the way). Anyway, I did some clicking around on Google Maps and this is what I came up with.