An Autumn Solstice

Disclaimer: Let me check . . . no, I still don't own Dark Angel.

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: M/A

Summary: 'For the test of the heart is trouble . . .'

Author's Note: Blame my cartridge pen; it just doesn't know when to give the angst a rest.

January 2023

Somewhere a clock would be striking twelve. A new day, and with it a new year and new beginnings; and as fate would have it, for fate's sole purpose was to torment her, the twelfth strike also brought with it an old face, shattering thoughts of starting over afresh.

She didn't know how she'd forgotten, but she had. And frankly she was glad she had; relief seared through her veins but it was bittersweet; for with the welcome sight came a shock that shook her very core and made her mind spin without inhibition, leaving her entirely disorientated and nauseous.

Outnumbered, and outwitted, White dropped the arm which held his gun. He stared up in defeat as a larger circle of transgenics stood guns raised.

In the group were the familiar faces of the one team Max had ordered to remain behind outside the building – but they were hardly enough to make up the numbers that stood there defending them. On closer inspection she realised that scattered amongst her people were the undoubted black uniforms of the police; headed by Clemente.

But her focus was not on Clemente. Even as she had taken in the sight, her eyes had never quite left the face of the man who was unquestionably responsible.

She wished she had something she could say to him. But her eyes remained unblinking, her mind, feet and mouth stuck. Even when he opened his mouth, his green eyes wide in panic, screaming her name – she stood stock still, unmoving and not hearing.

For if she had, she would have turned to notice the ugly snarl that curled White's lips, the resolution that flickered in his dark eyes and the moment he pulled the trigger.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"You bastard," he had spat as soon as he had walked through the doors. With red rimmed eyes, fists clenched so tightly he was sure he was drawing his own blood with his fingernails, Logan approached the X5 who had dared to show him his face. Even as he had watched him swing his arm back, Alec had done nothing to stop him.

His head snapped back with the force of the punch. His cheek burned, red finger marks marring his skin as the fist landed in its desired spot. He let him punch him. He deserved it, that much he knew. Silently, Alec simply straightened himself out again. This apparently was the wrong thing to do, for it simply infuriated Logan further, and he pulled back for another punch.

Alec grabbed the Ordinary's arm before it had a chance to make contact again. The change in speed caused Logan to stumble into the X5.

Shoving Alec hard, he regained his footing and took a step backwards.

A heavy silence ensued; only occupied with Logan's laboured breathing.

"How is she?" Alec asked.

Not answering him, Logan turned back around and disappeared down the corridor.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

They were in the hospital. Clemente had insisted on Max being here. Logan had not disputed him when he had come barrelling through the doors of Harbour Lights. News of what had happened didn't take long to find its way down to Terminal City – after all he had been sat there with both Luke and Dix when he had heard the gunshot fired through the radio transmission. It shouldn't have been on in the first place, but Max must have accidentally switched it on in a tousle with one of the familiars. He had all but run out of there at the sickening sound.

But that wasn't all he had heard; and that particular sound had played over continuously in his head as he had driven at hurtling speed to the abandoned factory. He could recognise that voice anywhere, the agonising scream as he had called Max's name had unmistakably belonged to an X5 he had hoped had vanished for good. Gut instinct told him this was all his fault – and that gave way to blinding fury.

Seeing his face had been a devastating blow. Watching him saunter in, whilst Max lay dying, had been the limit of what he could handle. And so he had punched him. And oh, it had felt damned good. Numbing the pain and fear of possibly losing Max, if only temporarily, but it had been worth it to see the look of anguish flitter through those hazel green eyes.

He had had the nerve to ask him how she was. And Logan wanted nothing more to inflict more pain on him, and so he had said nothing. Silences saying more than words could possibly say.

Turning on the spot, he walked away towards Max's room.

His heart thumped loudly against his ribcage as his hand grabbed the handle to the door of her room. Hesitantly, he opened it, and stepped in.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

"So what happens now?" Mole asked, chewing more insistently on his cigar – cold blooded or not, having a gun against your head with death being imminent and inevitable would shake even the most resilient.

Clemente declined the coffee mug thrust in his direction. The suspicious stains rimming it enough to extinguish the urge for caffeine. Dewy shrugged his shoulders, and took a sip for himself.

"Well White's in our custody now, along with the rest of the familiars that were present. We have enough evidence to get them locked up, although I'm not sure how many years a sentence for 'attempted annihilation of the human race' carries."

No one cracked a smile.

Clemente's smile faltered a little, "But they won't be causing any more problems."

"Keep dreaming."

The voice startled them, and they turned around to see who had brought in a cloud of pessimism with them.

"There's hundreds more of them. For every Ames White you get rid of, another will pop up."

"You know, I think I preferred it when you were just a pretty face, pretty boy," Mole said.

Alec grinned fleetingly, before pulling out a chair and sitting down. "I don't mean to put a downer on the celebrations, but the hard truth is that these bastards can camouflage better than chameleons, which means they are still out there and can be anybody at all."

Clemente nodded, "But at least we know they're out there, that's got to count for something."

Alec simply nodded.

"Well I'm gonna head off to see how our favourite familiar's doing behind bars."

Alec stood up, following him slightly out the door, "Listen," he started. Clemente stopped and turned back. Alec shifted slightly on his foot, "Thank you."

Clemente nodded, "But I think you're the one who truly deserves that sentiment."

Alec's disbelief at such a statement must have shown through quite obviously.

Patting the younger man on the shoulder, Clemente smiled reassuringly, "She's going to be fine."

I hope so.

Alec watched as the man walked away.

"So," came the unmistakable drawl from behind him, "Are we gonna get a better explanation from you now that you're here in the flesh; cos I'm telling you that half-assed explanation down some cheap crackly phone line's not gonna sate my curiosity any longer – doesn't matter how pretty you are boy."

Alec chuckled, "You sure you don't have some feline in your cocktail there Mole?"

Mole readjusted his cigar as Dewy took a seat, his interest piqued, "I sure as hell ain't even a sixteenth pussy, now you gonna explain or not, cos you owe us big. Covering for you for three months wasn't easy."

Alec's smile faded, "Yeah I know. I really am grateful to all of you guys," his eyes landing on Luke and Dix as well, "but I think if I'm going to explain, Max needs to hear it first."

"Well what are you doing here then?"

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

It was 11 at night. The day had crawled by. Most of it had been spent in Terminal City catching up with old friends; most glad to see him back, others sceptical of his return, not that he could blame them, of course. Then there was Joshua; his reaction had been so utterly unexpected. He had simply grabbed Alec by the collar and shaken him for a good ten minutes, and then gone on to envelope him in a bone crushing hug for another ten minutes. Alec was stunned into silence, and the big guy's red, wet eyes didn't help things either. Alec had nearly started bawling there and then; his manhood be damned.

He had been procrastinating of course. But then he could always come up with good excuses as to why he shouldn't be visiting Max's bedside. Logan was as good a reason as any; the man was probably holding a candlelight vigil in daylight and wouldn't hesitate to burn out his eyes with hot candle wax if he so much as stepped a toe into her room. There was also the guilt – a sickening guilt in the pit of his stomach that was twisting his innards gleefully into knots.

This was his fault; there was absolutely no way of sugar coating it to soften the blow. This was entirely his fault. And that's why he was here now. She needed the explanation; that much she deserved.

The room was dark, curtains drawn over the small window on the opposite wall. There was a light being emitted from the machinery beside the bed, along with a soft continuous hum that filled the night time silence. The tick of the wall clock was loud against Alec's eardrums, but his focus was on the sight of the figure in the bed.

Stepping closer, he stopped just few centimetres short of her bed. Curly, dark brown hair framed the face of an unusually pale Max. The slight pinkish tinge of her lips was a stark contrast to the rest of her ghostly skin tone. Both her right and left hand had needle inserts, connecting her up to an IV drip and a bag of transgenic blood donated by Dewy – of all people.

The surgery to remove the fragments of the bullets from where she had been shot had apparently gone as successfully as possible. Part of the fragment had gone so close to her spine, the risk of removing it had been great; but the surgeons were hopeful. Together with her natural healing abilities, the prognosis was a good but cautious one. The overwhelming feeling of relief went without saying but it wouldn't lessen the guilt.

Sighing, Alec took the chair beside her. Logan had left only an hour ago; Alec had watched hidden as the nurses had literally forced him out – and that's when Alec had taken the chance to creep in.

He contemplated taking her hand in his, his hand hovering just above her still one; but something told him that would be inappropriate; almost as if he were taking advantage of her non-responsiveness. And so his hand fell back resignedly into his lap.

He sighed again, wondering what he could say to an unconscious Max. The problem was, he'd have to explain himself all over again when she woke up, and he wasn't sure if he would be able to do that. The other side of him argued that this way he could test run what he'd say for when the time came. But that wasn't the real reason he finally decided to open his mouth; this way he knew he'd be able to say the things he'd never be brave enough to say to her face.

"I've had three months to think about what I'd say to you Max, you'd think I'd have my story set straight by now, wouldn't you?" Alec paused as he processed his own question. "Of course you wouldn't," he smiled wryly as he shook his head. Max knew him well enough to know he was more of a spur of the moment kind of guy. The chance of him having a speech rehearsed was as likely as Dewy taking a shower even once a week.

"Well anyway," he continued, feeling increasingly self conscious talking into the eerily silent room, "I guess you want to know what happened that day; and I really wish I had some answers for you Max; but to be honest, I don't think I even know that yet . . ."

With a green duffel bag over his right shoulder, Alec didn't even bother to give his apartment another glance. There was no point, he had thought; familiarity would only have made his decision harder.

He had found himself pacing the small floor of his apartment after Max had left him, swallowing down glass after glass of scotch. The fiery liquid burned its way down to the pit of his stomach, neither blocking the pain nor self hatred. If he stopped pacing it would only force him to remember the feel of Max's lips on his, her hands in his hair and that horrified look in her eyes when she'd realised what they'd done. And then there were those two damn words, 'I'm sorry.'

And he couldn't take it anymore.

Not thinking, for thought would have tried to have reasoned with him and he was desperately seeking to avoid all reason, Alec walked deceptively calmly into his bedroom, grabbed a few items of clothing and stuffed them into a bag. The physical pain from his leg injury was long forgotten as all his thoughts and energy were consumed with what he was about to do. Turning back to his wardrobe, he grabbed one last object and attached a hastily written note to it.

Shutting the door to his apartment, he headed off out of the building and towards his motorcycle. Getting on to the bike, he rode off hoping against all odds that that the person he was going to see wouldn't be there.

And thankfully he hadn't been. Alec knew, if there was one person who could've made him change his mind and crumbled his resolve it would have been Joshua. But he didn't have time or heart for nostalgia, so he left the package on his doorstep and turned away, furiously ignoring the voices in his head telling him this was a mistake.

Max would hate him even more, he knew; but he had convinced himself that this would be better for everyone and that one day she'd thank him for it. He never really did believe that for one second, but desperation would force him to believe anything but the truth.

He didn't know how long he had been on the road; he was driving like an automaton, mindlessly riding where the roads led him. He wasn't entirely sure how many hours had passed; the sky had turned dark miles back. Heavy clouds hid the sparkling gems of the sky above him and the only light that greeted him were the artificial road lights far and few in between.

He needed sleep he realised but as he passed by a bar, lights still on, he realised his need (or perhaps desire) to consume more alcohol was greater. All ideas of finding a motel vanished as he parked his bike close to the kerb.

Turning off the engine, he pocketed the keys in his leather jacket and turned the collar up; well aware that the previous laser job on his barcode wouldn't be lasting too much longer. He walked into the smoke filled bar, and was pleasantly surprised to find it was fairly busy; the chances of being noticed fell three-fold.

Sliding on to a bar stool with practised ease, he ordered a drink, watching the room with an observant eye. There was a group of old men around a table in the corner with several empty pint glasses in front of them; a younger rowdy lot were crowded around the pool table – and they all sucked, the probable result of vast alcohol consumption. Alec smirked; he could probably drink twice as much as they had and still whip their asses blindfolded.

"I haven't seen you around here before."

Alec looked up to find an older woman staring down at him sceptically. She had light brown hair with numerous silvery grey strands tied up in a tight bun.

Alec tried his most charming smile, "I'm just passing through."

"Ah ha," she said not convinced at all, "Well we don't want any trouble is all – not on top everything else that's going on at the moment."

"Right," Alec nodded, gulping imperceptibly, "Well you won't get any trouble from me." He took a long sip from his glass. "So," he started carefully, "What do you mean by everything that's going on at the moment?"

The woman gave him an incredulous look, but it wasn't her that answered him.

"Where the hell have you been boy?"

Alec whipped his head around. A stout, balding man stood behind him staring at him with that same incredulity. Alec glanced down nervously at the long rifle in the older man's hand. He didn't notice him looking.

"Here, there everywhere," Alec answered weakly, thrown completely off guard. His preoccupancy with the gun meant he missed the brief nod the man had sent the woman behind the bar; and before he knew it, he was pulled back roughly as the collar of his jacket was also yanked down.

Heart beating frantically in his chest, he waited.

The woman shoved him back upright and slapped him on his back. "Not one of them," she declared.

The man in front of him then grinned toothily, and outstretched his hand, "Then welcome young man, I'm George, and that's' my wife Mary."

"Hi," Alec smiled meekly, his thoughts still on his narrow escape.

"So you really have no idea, whatsoever, huh?" George said.

"Nope," Alec lied easily, "None whatsoever."

An hour later, and Alec had wished he had given the bar a miss altogether and stuck to his original plan to find a motel, because once George got going, there was no stopping him. He had sat there and endured every slur known to man against his own kind. Apparently, transgenics were brought to Earth by some evil satanic cult that would unleash diseases of devastating consequences on mankind.

"I think I'm gonna head off," Alec said, finding a rare pause in George's monologue.

The man looked slightly put out, but it was only fleeting, "Where you gonna go? It's four in the morning?" The bar had emptied quite a time ago, Alec realised.

He shrugged, "I'll find a motel."

"Honey, there ain't no motel around here for miles," Mary said.

Alec opened his mouth to tell them he'd be ok when Mary interrupted him, "Why don't you stay with us the night?"

"Sure," Alec shrugged, having very little other choice.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Alec had honestly believed he'd be out of that place the next day, but Mary had taken quite a shine to him and wouldn't hear a word of his talk of leaving to roam the country. And so he had stayed put. He realised it was an incredibly foolish thing to do – the people obviously hated transgenics and the repercussions of when they found just who exactly he was, weren't worth thinking about. He knew that if worst came to worst, he could always cut and run. He was becoming quite adept at that.

The days seemed longer than usual with very little to do to challenge him. He didn't want to admit it, but he missed the excitement of Terminal City; there was always something to be done, and people to do it with. But he didn't want to dwell on it as thinking of Terminal City only served to remind him of those he'd left behind. He must have been having one of those moments just then, as a voice broke the tranquil silence,

"So let me guess, you're mooning over that same chick?"

Alec got up from where he was sat to look at the figure standing by the door.

It was Matthew, George and Mary's son. He was around the same age as Alec, and was nice enough, except of course for his stringent view of transgenics, which served only a reminder to Alec that he would have to be moving on soon – his barcode was beginning to peek through again.

"What chick?" Alec asked. He knew the answer himself; mercifully Matthew didn't, and only really meant to tease him not realising just how accurate his assessment had actually been. Despite Alec's attempts to forget Terminal City and most especially her, he found his thoughts kept straying to Max more often than not. Even miles and miles away he couldn't escape that look in her eyes.

Matthew rolled his eyes, "Whatever dude, but I'm not letting you sit up here by yourself pining away-"

"I'm not pining," Alec interrupted partly affronted.

"Like I said whatever, but we have a surprise for you."

Alec's interest increased a notch, "We?" he asked.

"Some of my mates and I found something you have got to see."

Alec shrugged his shoulders as he followed Matthew downstairs to the bar's basement.

"Hey man," one of Matthew's friends whom Alec recognised greeted him once they'd got down there. Another two Alec didn't recognise were also stood there, hands in jean pockets.

"We think it must have escaped from Seattle somehow, it's a smart ugly assed freak I'll give it that much."

It didn't even take those words for alarm bells to have gone off inside Alec's head. His heightened transgenics alerted him through his own keen sense of smell and hearing as to just what it was they had wanted to show him.

And he felt sick.

Hitting the lights of the normally pitch black basement, Alec found himself watching through gritted teeth, as two frightened eyes blinked open at the sudden light. He was tied up in the corner of the room, behind several kegs, crouching on the dirty floor. He was a cross between human and a rainforest reptile of some sort.

Alec stood still, his internal horror masked by an unyielding mask.

One of Matthew's friends grabbed a bottle of wine off one of the racks, unscrewed the cork, and then walked leisurely up to the transhuman.

"Hey, don't get too close man, it might give you rabies," Matthew sneered.

"Must be thirsty huh?" he walked right up to his face, and half crouched down to his level. The transhuman got more agitated, his cry muffled by the gag around his mouth. "Well how about some of this?"

Yanking down the rag of cloth, Alec watched as he forced the neck of the bottle down his throat and emptied the entire contents into his mouth.

The half reptile spluttered against the onslaught of liquid, before his tormenter proceeded to hit the creature over the top of his head with the glass bottle. It shattered into large shards around him, and before Alec even knew what he was doing, he had yelled a "hey!" and moved forward tugging Matthew's friend back harshly.

"What are you doing man? We're just having a little fun," the guy said.

Alec caught the eyes of the half reptile, ignoring the fact that all four men were staring at him at that moment. It took only one second looking into those hurt and vulnerable eyes before Alec realised with a snap where his priorities lay. Turning around, fist clenched beside him, he punched the one who had swung the bottle at lightening speed so that he hadn't had a clue as to what had hit him. The guy collapsed on to the floor, mouth bloodied, staring up at him in shock.

"You're one of them," Matthew said into the shocked silence, there was no question intoned.

Just as coldly, Alec replied, "Took you long enough."

"But you don't have a-"

"A barcode?" Alec smirked, "They don't make us who we are."

"You're a freak!" One of the idiots spat.

"And?" Alec shrugged, "What's your point?"

Matthew's face screw up in disgust, as he lunged forward. Alec easily caught the sloppy punch, twisted his arm behind his back and kicked him hard. Matthew went flying on to the floor.

Alec looked up at the other three men, rolled his head and shoulders, brought his hands out in front of him and cracked his knuckles, "So who's next?" he grinned.

Grabbing Matthew off the floor and half dragging him along, all four ran as if hungry hounds were fast at their heels.

Alec chuckled lightly. The half reptile transhuman was staring at him, confusion glittering in his eyes. He smiled lightly, as he approached him and gently worked to untie him, "Don't speak much do you?" Alec looked up at him as he untied his feet.

The creature said nothing.

Once freed, he was reluctant to move.

"Okay look," Alec sighed, "I'm not gonna hurt you." Turning around he showed him his barcode. "But we have to get moving now, those circus clowns are gonna go running for the police, and we so don't need that."

The half reptile nodded once.

"Good," Alec declared, "Come on."

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Once outside, Alec breathed a sigh of relief to find his bike still in place. Getting on and turning the key in the ignition, Alec rode out of the small town heading for the main road with the transhuman sitting on the back end of his bike. He thought he could hear the distant sound of police sirens behind him, and so instinctively sped up. Once he was sure he had lost his tail, Alec slowed down. The enormity of the situation hit him. What the hell was he supposed to do now?

He couldn't possibly drag the guy around with him everywhere; so much for being inconspicuous and blending in. Only one option seemed to exist; it was the only one that was fair to the transhuman – he couldn't ask him to be the Bonnie to his Clyde when he hadn't a clue what was going on. He deserved to be with his own kind.

Sighing, Alec fished out his cell phone from his jacket, and punched in the familiar numbers.

"Hello?" came the recognizable gruff voice.

"Hey Mole," Alec replied, holding his breath.

"Alec?" came the surprised response, "Where the hell are you?"

"Not important," Alec replied quickly, "Look, I need to-"

"Not important?" Mole but half yelled into the phone, "Max is on the damned warpath, everyone thinks you've skipped out on us!"

"I haven't," Alec said firmly, "I just needed some time out."

"Some time?" Mole said, "You've been MIA for nearly a month!"

"Look, I haven't called up to argue or explain; I called to tell you that I found a transhuman tied up in some lunatic's basement. Poor thing was being abused, I freed it and now I need an extraction. He should be back in Terminal City with others like it – doesn't speak very much English at all. So, will you help?"

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. Alec almost thought Mole had hung up, but then, "Okay, we'll be there . . . I mean someone's got to still care about his own people."

That stung, but Alec couldn't expect anything but anger.

"Thank you," Alec said quietly, "Please don't tell Max."

"Wasn't going to," Mole said coldly, "She doesn't need anymore of your crap."

"Right."

Mole removed the cigar from his mouth, and held the phone closer to his ear, "Where are you?"

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Alec watched as Mole and Dewy helped the half reptile into their mini-van. Dewy had said very little to him, as he got back into the driver's seat.

"Listen . . ." Alec started.

Mole glared at him, his cigar chomping stopping momentarily.

"I'm not abandoning you guys."

Mole said nothing.

"I just . . . can't be there right now."

Mole continued his homage to the art of silence. Alec shifted his weight, "I'm sorry."

And that apparently was all there was left to say, as Mole decided not to give him anymore of his time, and got into the car. Alec could only stand and watch as the rear of the van disappeared down the dirt road.

Alec had spent the rest of that night haunted by those words he had honestly believed he'd said in earnest. Was he abandoning them? And the answer to that question hurt, because the truth was ugly. He was running away. He'd accused Max of doing the same once, and now to add to his growing list of shortcomings was despicable hypocrisy.

Sitting out in the open air, with nothing but a bike and the clothes on his back; Alec had never felt more alone.

But with it came a new resolve.

He would fight with them and for them, but he would do it on his own terms.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

Stretching his long legs, Alec stood up from where he had been sat for the last hour. The hospital room was still dark, and the continuous hum of the machinery had forced its way into the background of his senses. It was still eerily silent except for his heavy breathing. His little jaunt back down memory lane hadn't been pleasant. With his explanation, he had forced open the huge barricades to his emotions, and they had come flooding back to him on a tidal wave. The despair, and loneliness, not to mention his own self hatred for his selfishness had been a feeling unlike any other – and he didn't want to be there ever again.

"It's funny," he said to the still unconscious Max, "You know I actually believed that I could just go on and walk right out of here, never look back, never think about any of you ever again, and that I could just get on with my life; but I guess you taught me more than I know."

He walked over to the window, and pulled the blinds back.

"I came back to Seattle that night," he started again, "and I went to see Clemente. I thought that I didn't have to be on the front lines to help fight this war; that maybe I could do so much more in some other way. And I did." Alec looked back at her.

"I made a deal with Clemente. You and I both know the guy can't stand White – too much ego in one relationship – kind of reminds me of some other people I know."

Alec grinned, "Yeah, I know, that's not funny."

"Anyway," he continued, "I said I'd help him get White, if he'd help with the antidote production. I remembered how difficult we'd been finding it to convince everyone of the Familiar threat, I remember Logan busting his ass trying to get us a hearing – but of course they just thought he was a psycho. Can't say I blame them, I mean the guy has some serious . . . never mind."

Alec took in a deep breath, "You know all those times when you suddenly got some intel you'd been searching days for to help the effort – that was me. Well more Clemente's men. Mole, Luke and Dix knew. They kind of had to out of necessity."

He walked back to the window, and stared out of the glass into the night sky.

"Last night was a set up. I set it up. It was the only way I knew we could incriminate White and catch him. Only, it didn't turn out exactly how I'd planned it."

He was silent for what seemed like an age.

And then finally, "You were never meant to get hurt."

Alec closed his eyes, his head dropping against the cool glass, knuckles turning white as he gripped the window ledge.

"But I did." The words were loaded, doused in double entendre.

Heart thundering in his ears, Alec shook his head in disbelief. Slowly he turned around not at all prepared for two wet red-rimmed eyes to be staring straight back at him.

Taking in a shaky breath, Max struggled to sit up still slightly groggy from all the anaesthesia. A sharp pain snaked its way down her spine as she shifted, still sore from the surgery, causing her to release a small gasp.

Alec hurried forward instinctively to help her up, but was instantly prevented by an icy cold, "don't."

He stepped back.

"I'm-"

"Just don't."

Alec stood still, lips clamped tightly together. The joy he should have been feeling at seeing her alive and well was only eclipsed by devastating guilt.

"Leave."

"Max, I-"

"Leave."

Alec nodded, as he turned towards the door. He spared her one last glance, but Max had already turned her head to stare out the window.

He shut the door softly behind him.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOX

A/N 2: Wow, I seriously thought that'd never end. This is quite possibly the longest chapter I've ever written! I hope you enjoyed it. Alec's verbal explanation of what happened was quite fractured, but that was what I was kind of going for – his head's in a million different places.

I'll keep my plea simple this time: please, please, please leave a review! Thanks for reading, cheers,

SmilinStar

xxx