Six

Alec sat in the armchair which was the only other furniture in the room except for the bed. He was drifting of to a troublesome slumber when he realised that he was not alone.

Someone tiptoed closer, a man by the hint of aftershave in the stale hospital air. Then the safety of a gun flicked off and Alec's eyelids shot open the same moment as the light was turned on. Although his eyes stung from the sudden change in lighting, he stared along a silencer attached to a Walter PKK into familiar blue eyes that radiated anger.

Alec's emotions were too confusing to decipher them right now - Fear, hate and strangely, friendship, warred with each other. He looked at Bond and refused to let any of them show on his face even when the cold metal pressed against his forehead.

"I don't buy it. This apparatus –" Bond's other hand shot forward and held a small metallic something into Alec's line of vision.

A shiver ran down Alec's spine, a reaction stronger than 007's gun could elicit. It was that Thing they had removed from his skull, the thing that had been part of a scheme to control his mind. He winced.

"This is supposed to be the reason," James' grimaced before he spat the words from his mouth, "of your betrayal?"

Alec blinked and forced himself to lock eyes with James again. He put as much arrogance into his voice as he could and said, "Buy what you want, believe what you must."

Bond stared at him, lips pressed to a thin line. Alec stared straight back. Neither of them was willing to be the first to look away. Then James spun around and left, as quickly as he had entered.

Seven

"What was your intention when you embarked on Mission Archangel?"

Alec lifted his left eyebrow and smirked. "To defect." After all, why should he deny it?

"Then tell me what happened in the facility - in as many details as possible."

He shrugged. If she thought she could get to him this way, let her.

When he started to speak, the MI-6 psychologist leaned forward but the expression on her face remained unchanged - clinical, cool and professional – while she studied him like a researcher would examine a rare species.

"...and then the base exploded." Involuntarily, his lips curled when he remembered the scoring kiss of the flames. "The doctors put together what was left, stitched the wounds and mended the bones."

"Mr. Trevelyan, why don't you tell me what you felt during the mission?"

It was not a question but a request.

Psychologists. He had been in too many sessions than not to know what to expect. He gave her a summary of what he had felt, concentrated on the obvious emotions and ignored those he could not place.

She pursed her lips, dissatisfied with his description.

"The man from your dreams. What does he look like?"

Alec gaped at her. How did she know about him?

"You mumbled during your convalescence."

Ignoring the beads of sweat that were forming on his brow, Alec mustered the courage he needed and described what he remembered -- not so much because MI-6 demanded the information but because he wanted answers himself.

When she finally turned the screen towards him, he sucked in a shuddering breath. The computers had done their work too well. Grigory's sadistic eyes stared at him, so vivid that he expected the right eye to twitch any second.

"Tell me again about Archangel. Tell me about him," her voice urged.

Her keen grey eyes scratched the surface of Alec's self, tugged at him to reveal the truth.

And Alec spoke. He spoke of pain and about sinking into the dark.

Eight

Thick mist hid the ships on the Thames from view. Sometimes, one of them cut through it and was momentarily visible as a dark silhouette before the mist pulled it back into its clutches. Only the sound of the ship's horn remained.

Alec shivered in the autumn wind. He felt like the captain of a doomed ship. For a year, he had been wrestling with his private demons to find a way through deception, truth and half-lies, only to discover that he was not gaining ground. Except that MI-6 now granted him some privacy and the opportunity to be outside of its impressive new headquarters.

Footsteps came into his direction, betrayed by the gravel. Probably they had not let him go outside out of generosity; they just wanted to keep his blood out of sight and off their hands. Alec straightened his back when the mist revealed 007, who steadily approached, hand in the pocket of his jacket.

Instead of pulling his Walter, James stretched his hand out. A bullet was lying on his palm. "I shot him."

Alec closed his eyes. There was only one person James could mean: Grigory. His stomach turned a summersault of disgust and strangely, regret. But when he opened his eyes again, only relief remained. "Thanks." Alec swallowed. He should say more but he was not a man to talk about emotions and he knew James was not either. "I...owe you."

With a hand that trembled, Alec reached for the bullet. Surprisingly, James closed his hand around Alec's for a moment. Then he let go.

Alec took the bullet, looked at it. It touched him that James had gone to the trouble to remove it from the corpse. After drawing a deep breath, he tossed it into the Thames. He glanced at James, who was now standing beside him, watching the river. It seemed that not all was lost; probably their friendship could be salvaged from the wreckage. Alec allowed himself a tiny smile, mirroring that of James. Time to start healing.