First chapter = disclaimers
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Alec stared miserably out the window. The weather in Westchester was dreary and raining – a perfect match to his mood. Idly, he fingered the hem of the shirt he had been given when he had arrived at the mansion from whatever godforsaken place he had been held at.
The trip back had been unremarkable except for the fact that he had learned his rescuer's name was Logan. Not that the hairy man had introduced himself. The pilot, Scott, had gotten into a macho tiff with the gruff man and had called him 'Logan.'
Between the fact that he had been rather efficient at removing the guards and the fact that Scott did not particularly care for him, Alec was forming a very high opinion of Logan.
Not, of course, that his dislike of Scott had anything to do with actually knowing him personally. He only "knew" him through his correspondence with the recently deceased Jean Grey.
When Alec had spent his short time with the professor, Jean was just a telepathic student learning how to control her powers. He had become friends with the red haired girl in their mutual struggle to keep the outside world where it belonged. Outside.
As a result, he had indulged in his teenage woes about his fellow classmate in England. Jean had listened for hours on end while Alec expounded on every subject that could possibly relate to James. It had been a good thing to do, as he had never needed to ramble on about the subject to anyone else.
In turn, Jean had shared her exuberance when she fell in love with Scott. Alec knew just about everything that Jean knew about Scott, or at least the parts about him that he'd known before he faked his own death. While he had been supportive of Jean's romance, he had privately put Scott into a little box with the stuffed suits of MI6. A box entitled "People you don't like, but have to stay friends with, so you annoy them."
A sad smile twitched at Alec's lips. Jean had been a good friend. He supposed that was why he had picked Xenia when she had come into his organization. Her attitude was completely different, but her face could have doubled for Jean's.
Not that it mattered anymore. His sources had informed him of Jean's death just before he had had his final run in with James.
Alec sighed and went to staring back out the window. He was not sure what he wanted to think about. It, in fact, went against every instinct to think about anything. Agents just conveniently shoved every unwelcome thought into the back of their head somewhere and forgot about them. But, Alec did not have the luxury of doing that.
He had messed up his entire life, and he had not even had the fun of doing it himself. He had apparently been brainwashed by a buxom woman with questionable taste in clothing. The worst part was that he knew exactly how she had gotten in. Contrary to popular thought, a telepath was not all powerful. When one goes into someone's mind, the owner of that mind has just as much control, if not more, than the invading telepath. For the invader to do the damage that had been done to Alec's mind, she had to find a point of entry, otherwise his mind would have simply fragmented and made him a useless vegetable.
And of course, he knew exactly what that point was. It was not the feelings he had developed towards James. Alec had spent years recognizing and accepting those and dealing with the consequences of them.
It was the fact, that for one moment in time, Alec had seen those feeling reciprocated.
He could still smell the rankness of his clothing as he had wakened to find himself cradled In James's arms. The other man had a death grip on Alec's body. As Alec had turned his face upwards, he could see a vacant stare in James' eyes.
He could still remember the wild hope that had sprung to James' face when the dark haired man had realized that Alec was moving.
Alec had been about to make a properly acerbic quip when James had interrupted him with a tortured voice, "I thought you were dead."
What happened after that was still a bit of a blur in Alec's mind. He could not recall who exactly moved first, but what he was sure about was that there was quite a bit of physical activity involved, and that while James' women always got the plush and exotic hotels, Alec was treated to the hayloft of an abandoned barn.
Alec had awakened first the next morning, and he did not wake happily. He knew what the day would bring. He had seen James dump hundreds of women, but he new that there would not be a clean break for them. James held a very high amount of control over his emotions, and Alec had seen the tumult that was behind James' shields.
He also knew that James Bond by his very definition would not and could not have a relationship with a man, especially not one who he happened to work with on a semi-regular basis.
So, Alec had made the first move. He spared himself having to listen to James give a modified version of his "We're over," speech. Alec simply dove right in the instant James had woken up. He told him about how they would just forget about what happened. Their very lives were mired in secrets, what was one more? And so forth and so on. He did not remember exactly how long he rambled on for, but he knew that the only words that James said were a plain, "Alright, Alec."
They had never spoken about it again, and it had haunted Alec until the day that he had gotten caught while infiltrating the Hellfire Club.
"You have an unhealthy penchant for blaming yourself," Charles Xavier's voice cut into Alec's morose remembrances.
Alec turned from the window to look at the professor, "Were you poking around in my head, or was I broadcasting?"
"Neither, actually, I've just had too many students who have perfected that particular facial expression. It wasn't your fault, Alec."
"Oh, but it was. You know, people always try to tell you that it wasn't your fault. But in someway it always is."
Charles shook his head, "That isn't true, and you know it. Perhaps we open doors to something bad happening, but is it the housewife's fault that she got robbed because she left the door unlocked? Isn't it truly the burglar's fault because he went in there with the purpose of stealing?"
Alec dismissed him with a wave of his hand, "It isn't the same thing."
Charles did not respond, and they sat in silence. Alec sat uncomfortably while Charles merely waited for him to make the next move.
"How did you know where to find me? And for that matter, why did you come to get me?" Alec finally asked in order to break the silence.
"It is very simply actually. When they revived you, your power signature spiked dramatically. I could feel your pain and confusion, and I sent a team to rescue you."
"That's very noble of you," Alec said bitterly.
"Really?" Charles asked calmly.
"Maybe I'm just not worth salvaging, why don't you spend your time rescuing some poor, abused mutant that needs you?"
Charles shifted his head slightly, "I thought that was what I was doing."
Alec's gaze snapped back furiously to glare at Xavier for a second before he began to chuckle, "Professor, I think you have been around your teenage students too much. I don't recall flippancy as part of your normal counseling technique."
Charles laughed quietly himself, "Perhaps not, but it worked didn't it? You have always been a challenge Alec."
"I wish I would have been more of one to the ice queen in the white leather. Why did she run away? Your Mr. Logan is intimidating enough, but she took off too quickly," Alec mused.
Charles sighed and leaned back into his chair, "I must admit I have been pondering that question myself. The only logical solution is that she had something more valuable to keep from us than you."
"Now there is an encouraging thought," Alec grumbled.
Charles merely smiled, "It isn't your problem to deal with right now. "
"I know, I know. I need to go on my bonny road to recovery."
Charles shook his head, "Actually, you are on the road to a physical examination. I think we need to know exactly what they did to you."