Disclaimer: I don't own any characters blah blah blah owned by Anthony Horowitz blah blah blah don't sue me.
Summary: "You can't escape from a prison until you recognise you are in one. People who have chosen to live within the limits of their old beliefs continue to have the same experiences. It takes effort and commitment to break old patterns." - Bob Proctor
Slight AU (Alternative Universe), characters acting slightly OOC (Out Of Character). Parts are taken from the TV series, books and my imagination.
(A.N: There are some suggested songs with most of the POVs. They helped me write this - they also helped me cry while writing this. Listen to them or ignore them - it's up to you. Either way, have a box of tissues nearby.
Also, I've started crossposting to Ao3.)
A
(Breaking Benjamin - I Will Not Bow. Willyecho - Killer Inside of Me)
He needed to convince Yassen. The man would never go ahead with it otherwise.
SCORPIA were under the impression that MI6 had sent him to spy on them like they had done with Hunter before (ignoring Alex's - truthful - insistence that he wanted to escape their manipulations). Yassen's loyalty, as the operative who had directed Alex to SCORPIA, was called into question. Though Yassen might not have killed Alex out of a sense of debt to his father, that put Alex firmly in the assassin's debt.
Alex always paid his debts, regardless of whether the recipient considered them one.
Which left Alex in the position of convincing an assassin to "kill" him without the SCORPIA analysts listening in realising Yassen needed convincing, while also doing it in such a way that the man didn't figure out he was being convinced. He had a headache just from thinking about it.
The best lies have elements of the truth laid in them.
"Smithers is the nickname of MI6's gadget person. For some reason, they're fond of me," Alex started, staring at a point behind the man's right shoulder, looking at the grimy walls of the room he'd been thrown into five hours ago. He'd been bored within an hour, after he used up the paper writing letters the intended recipients had little chance of reading.
"We know that Smithers is male," Yassen stated, his lip twitching upwards slightly. Alex huffed, muttering, "well you can't blame me for trying to protect the one person in that place who wasn't pleased to be blackmailing a teenager into doing their dirty work for them" under his breath.
"Anyways, he likes to tell me about his work. Sometimes he even lets me take some prototypes without Blunt's permission. Here, feel my chest," he instructed, pulling off his shirt.
If this were a cartoon, Yassen would have had a question mark hovering over his head. As it was, the man froze, and his eyebrows seemed to jump up his forehead.
"Excuse me?"
"Feel my chest. Does it feel like skin?"
"Should it feel like something else?" Yassen asked a few minutes later after he'd (eventually) complied with his request.
Alex hummed, before launching into a rant about Blunt, Jones, and where he'd go if he had the opportunity to run away from their influence. He stopped when the intercom said something he couldn't understand, but Yassen stood and gestured for Alex to walk in front of him, pressing a gun into his back.
"Of course, if I'd managed to run away from MI6, I'd need to send a letter to Jack and Tom to tell them what happened in case MI6 tried to manipulate them. Maybe you could have delivered them," Alex laughed, shaking his leg out to get rid of a cramp and accidentally showing Yassen the pieces of paper stuck in the back of his sock.
"Did you know Smithers was working on a Kevlar top that looked and felt exactly like real skin? He said it would slow the wearer's pulse to almost nothing if pushed in the correct place, allowing the wearer to play dead for up to ten minutes. Pity I didn't manage to take one".
Y
(Beth Crowley - Hard To Kill)
He'd been trying to find a way to save Alex without getting himself killed up to the minute he stepped into the boy's cell. He'd been amused with little Alex's ramblings and attempt to protect Smithers (they knew a lot more about him than his gender, but Yassen didn't mention that). He'd decided to send the man a present for having more common sense than the heads of MI6 when he heard Alex's demand for Yassen to feel his chest.
Yassen complied, holding back judgement on whether Alex was trying to send him a message or if the pressure of living under Blunt's yoke had finally shattered his mind. The teen's subsequent rant about MI6 and escape ideas had him leaning more towards the first option. The voice over the intercom instructing him to bring Alex to be executed was received by an internal bout of desperation and an external show of compliance. He couldn't think of a way to save them both within the current circumstances.
He would deliver the letters in Alex's sock to their intended recipients. It was the least Yassen could do, since it was because he had directed Alex to SCORPIA that they were in this situation.
It wasn't until Alex mentioned "Smither's" latest invention that Yassen understood the purpose of his ramblings. Now feeling what he classified as cheerful (and everyone else classed as one step above emotionless), he directed the teen to the courtyard where all SCORPIA operatives and board members who'd been residing close to or in Malagosto were gathered.
Julia Rothman, in a dress that Yassen could have recognised if he cared, spoke about "rooting out traitors" and "will be dealt with". Standing five paces away, Alex was looking calm. Yassen wondered if he'd considered the possibility of someone else taking a shot at his head after Yassen shot him. The teen looked at him and, under the guise of scratching his neck, tapped the area of his shirt covering his heart.
When Julia looked at him after finishing her speech, Yassen raised his handgun (one bullet) and shot Alex in the heart. He momentarily panicked when he saw blood appear on the shirt but presumed "Smithers" had added that feature to the Kevlar suit. The on-site medic announced the lack of a heartbeat, and Yassen turned to the (five) gathered board members.
"Shall I dispose of the body?"
After five minutes of the gathered members communicating by pages (which were then incinerated), heads nodding and shaken, they reached a verdict.
"Bury him on the grounds. No one will be able to find him. You know where the shovels are kept".
Yassen inclined his head, turned to the teen and, lifting him in a fireman's carry, walked towards the courtyard's exit. By the time he'd reached the door, the letters in the boy's sock were relocated to his coat.
When he reached the small wooded area on the island, Yassen laid the teen on the ground. Before digging the "grave", he took out the letters. One for Jack (the housekeeper), one for Tom (the best friend) and… one for him? Glancing at Alex (who hadn't moved in eight minutes), he pocketed the first two letters and opened the one for him.
It took Yassen ten minutes after finishing the letter to realise he was on his knees.
It took him a further ten minutes to realise he was silently crying.
J and T
(Erich Lee Gravity Remix - Unsteady. WAR*HALL - Dead Man Walking. Unlike Pluto - JOLT. Hurts - Somebody to Die For.)
Tom walked into the house behind Jack, closing the door as she'd asked him to. Ignoring the radio Alex seemed to have forgotten to turn off, she walked into the kitchen. There were two letters, a collection of metallic objects, and two notes on the table that hadn't been there when she left the house. Jack cautiously made her way over, wary in case someone was in the house. According to the note beside the metallic objects, someone called "Y" had been in the house and had collected the things ("listening devices") from around the house and destroyed them. "Y" had also delivered two letters to them, apparently written by Alex.
Shrugging at Tom's questioning look, she passed over the letter with his name and opened her own.
Hey Jack,
I'm sorry.
If you're reading this, Yassen delivered it to you.
If you see a black-haired man with a scar on his right cheek, don't tell MI6.
I've escaped from MI6 permanently.
Don't be too angry with Yassen if you see him; I'm sorry I manipulated him; it was the only way I could leave MI6 behind.
You won't see me for a while: ask Yassen where I am if you see him.
Since I'm officially dead, I left everything to be split between you and Tom.
Look after each other and Yassen. I don't know how he might take it.
I hope you enjoy being a lawyer.
Love,
Alex.
Jack looked over at Tom.
"Swap?"
He shrugged and held out his letter. She looked it over: it was almost identical to hers, except for the last line. Tom handed back her letter.
"So…" she pronounced.
"He managed to get away from those bastards with the help of a man called Yassen - he's probably "the man with the scar" Alex was always talking about - though it sounds like he may have been manipulated into it and may not be pleased about it. However they managed it, Alex is now declared dead, and the man is the only one who knows where he truly is," Tom extrapolated. "Now, the only question is, where is Yassen?"
Jack nodded, then froze. The letters hadn't been on the table when she left, nor had the radio been on. She didn't think Alex had a radio in his room…
"I think I might know," she confessed, before turning and starting towards the stairs.
As expected, Alex's bedroom door (open the last time she saw it) had been closed over. As they crept along the hall, they could hear a man with an accent talking, apparently to himself.
"... if you are watching this, then I've been dead for at least thirty minutes…"
They gaped at each other; Tom took out his phone and quickly typed something before showing the screen to her.
Whatever Alex made him do, he isn't taking it well
Jack nodded, coming back to herself when the man raised his voice.
"The two people standing outside have five seconds to come into the room before I shoot you through the door."
Tom stared wide-eyed before throwing open the door and stumbling inside, Jack following.
A dark-haired man was sitting in the corner of the room, with a view out the window looking out to the garden. He was in line with the mirror, but his upper body was turned to face the door, a gun pointed towards them. He could have been any age and, even with the scar on his right cheek and dark circles under his eyes, would be described as handsome. Tom presumed this was Yassen, but he looked familiar.
After a second, the man lowered the gun.
"Tom and Jack, I presume," the man stated.
He saw Jack nod from the corner of his eye: her questioning reply of "Yassen" garnering a slight nod.
"I know you!" Tom exclaimed. One side of Yassen's mouth spasmed slightly.
"You bumped into me at your school, yes," he stated. "You may as well stay and get a front-row seat. Everyone else will find out soon".
After trading glances, Tom sat on the floor while Jack sat on Alex's bed. He saw the camera angled to pick up everything Yassen did on the mirror's reflection. The gun was placed on his lap, and the man turned back towards the mirror. Tom didn't think he realised, but he was rubbing the thumb and index finger of his right hand over a piece of paper in his pocket.
"I should have died four times. If I had died the third time, as I'd intended, I wouldn't have killed anyone. The first time…"
Tom listened as the man told his life story to the camera. He didn't know why Yassen was doing it or why he'd chosen to do it here, but he listened.
It was one of the saddest stories he'd ever heard, made even more so because it was told in an emotionless tone, like the man was reading a script. By the time Yassen was talking about sneaking back into the house of the man who'd kept him as a slave, Jack was crying silently, and Tom wasn't too far off. Hearing about how he put the gun with five bullets into his mouth, Jack gave a small cry and threw her arms around Yassen. In any other situation, the sheer confusion on the man's face would have been funny.
"What are you doing?" Yassen inquired in the same tone.
"What do you think?" Jack half sobbed.
"Trying to get close enough to stab me," he stated with certainty. It was then that Tom started silently crying, looking down at his lap. That statement showed how affectionless his life must have been.
"Then why did you let me hug you?" Jack asked indignantly. The man shrugged.
"You deserve the opportunity. At least I would experience someone hugging me again".
"How long has it been since someone hugged you?" Tom asked, almost sure he wouldn't like the answer. The long pause, as Yassen thought, only cemented that idea.
"My mother hugged me the morning she died," he finally replied. Tom cursed, and it was a mark of how much that news affected Jack that she didn't scold him.
"What do you mean by "you deserve the opportunity"?" Tom queried after a minute.
Yassen's left shoe twitched slightly, and something passed through his eye.
"What did the letters Alex wrote for you say?" the man deflected.
"That he's managed to escape from MI6 with your help, though you may have been manipulated and might not react well to that; that you're the only one who knows where he is; and he wished us well in school and as a lawyer," Jack stated.
The sound that came out of Yassen's mouth was a laugh, yet it wasn't. It was broken, harsh, and had no humour in it. The piece of paper Tom had seen him stroking was tightly clutched to his chest.
"I didn't know. I believed him. I had no reason not to - all SCORPIA operatives knew Smithers made new kits for their agents, and their sources mentioned Smithers was fond of Alex, went above what was instructed to do for him," Yassen pleaded, seeming desperate for them to believe him. "I sent him to SCORPIA; I thought they'd get him away from MI6. Instead, they decided to use him to test my loyalty".
"His father trained me and saved my life at one point. They thought I might be more loyal to Alex than to them. Alex was talking about what he'd do if he got away from MI6, how he'd need to get letters to the two of you before he disappeared. I was to be his executioner; I was trying to think of a way to get us both out of there alive. Yet there he was, discussing travel plans and asking me to deliver those letters to you".
"Then he started talking about Smithers having a prototype for a skin-coloured and textured Kevlar vest, how pressing a certain point could inject a substance to slow down your pulse. How someone could easily be fooled into thinking you're dead if needed. As we walked to the place where he would die, I decided that I would expose MI6, show the world their true colours, before I joined Alex-"
"Is that why you've set up a camera here? So you can record a video to be released with an information dump you've organised?" Tom interrupted, feeling a bit of vindictive pleasure at the thought of MI6 getting everything they deserved.
Yassen twitched slightly, as if he'd just remembered they were there.
"I collected information on as many of the intelligence services as I could in case I ever needed blackmail material to get a job done. I have it set up on a server that will send all the information collected to every news agency, politician and civil servant in the world that has access to a computer. It is set to release if I don't send it an email with a specific string of numbers and characters for a month. If I send a different phrase, it sends regardless of how long since my last check-in. I'm making a… cover video to go with its release to the world in around five minutes."
"Nice one!" Tom exclaimed vindictively.
"Where did Alex go?" Jack asked. Yassen gave a whole body shudder, hand clenched tight around the paper.
"What I didn't realise until I looked at the letters was that he'd written one for me," he stated. His fingers slowly unfurled from the page before he stood and threw it out the door, a peculiar expression on his face. Tom noticed he'd grabbed the gun as he stood, likely to make sure it didn't fall and accidentally fire. The man gestured towards the page and turned his back to them, looking out at the garden. Jack jumped up and hurried towards the page.
Tom was a second behind her, which meant he was close enough to see Yassen's body language change. The man was looking down at the gun.
"We've had a long run, you and I," Yassen muttered: Tom could barely hear the man's voice. "You've been there on two of the four occasions I should have died. I had to look through the new layout of the building to find you. The first time, you had one in you; the second, five. As the phrase goes, third time's a charm. You won't fail this time, with six in you". He sighed.
"Despite everything I've experienced in the years since, I've never forgotten how you taste in my mouth."
"NO!" Tom yelled, jumping towards the man: Jack, bending down to pick up the page, turned around.
It was too late,
Yassen put the gun's muzzle into his mouth and, staring out the window at the garden, pulled the trigger.
(NF - Paralyzed)
Yassen,
Any debt you may feel you owe my father is more than repaid.
MI6 would always want to use me.
If I ran, they'd look for me.
If I hid, they'd find me.
If I tried to work for someone else, they'd take me back.
So I went to the one place they couldn't follow me.
I told you I wanted to escape from MI6.
True.
I told you I wanted to visit different places around the world.
True.
I told you Smithers had designed an invisible Kevlar vest.
True.
I told you I'd managed to take the prototype.
Lie.
I'm sorry.
I manipulated you.
But I'm weary of this.
I wanted a painless exit.
And I knew you could give me what I craved.
Thank you for trying.
Thank you for caring.
I'm sorry for how I repaid you.
I wish we'd met under better circumstances.
Please don't do anything too drastic.
Спасибо.
Мне жаль.
Я тебя люблю.
Alex.
(Royal Deluxe - I'm A Wanted Man)
(On a laminated sheet of paper attached to a stick stuck in the ground within the Rider garden)
Here lies Yassen Gregorovich.
Died aged 35.
His childhood died at 14.
His innocence died at 17.
Here lies Alex Rider.
Died aged 14.
His childhood died at 14.
His innocence died at 14.
May they find some version of heaven.
May their enemies find some version of hell.
Críochnaithe
(A.N: I hope this wasn't too triggering or too sad. I cried while writing parts of this, especially when listening to the suggested tracks.)