CHAPTER 9- Resting Place.

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Alex stood in the empty house, staring. It was very obvious it hadn't been lived in for near a month. It was dark, though he noticed from the microwave clock that it still had power. He didn't feel like turning on the lights.

He walked to Jack's room, not sure what he would find. But it had been cleaned up, the bed made as if Jack had simply gotten up for the day and hadn't come back.

Alex sighed his exhaustion, sitting on the edge of the bed. "Well, it's done," he told her. "I know it's not how you would have wanted it, but that's it. I'm free of them. They were right about one thing. This is what it was always going to take. I'm just sorry I couldn't have done it before they got to you."

He laughed at himself. "Although I'm pretty glad you're not here to see what I've become. I don't think it was a price you would have been willing to let me pay."

He put his arms on his legs and bent his head over them, the pain from the last few hours finally hitting him as his adrenaline level returned to normal. He shook his head. "What do I do now, Jack?" he whispered miserably.

He hadn't thought this far ahead. Getting out had never been his plan. He had simply kept moving, intent on destroying everything in his path. He had succeeded, and had somehow even managed to come out alive. And now he was lost. There was nothing for him, nowhere to go. He couldn't stay here. Too many people knew him, and would start wondering how come he wasn't back at school, if he had found a new Guardian.

He couldn't go back to school. He was beyond that. He had killed hundreds of people in cold blood, merely for the act of revenge. He had brutalized two human beings in aide of that plan, and taken pleasure in it. He had even managed to fall in love with the world's most deadly assassin.

Alex sighed. He could, he supposed, go to SCORPIA and ask for a job. The destruction of MI6 was sure to earn him some points, but then he'd be right back where he started, being used until he was used up and then tossed away.

God, it didn't matter. He was too tired to think of that. He just wanted to close his eyes and never open them again. Flopping back onto the bed, he decided that it sounded too good to ignore, and fell asleep, not caring that he was still bleeding heavily.

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Alex blinked, finding the harsh light of the sun streaming through his window too bright. Then he blinked again, this time in confusion. Sunlight? Jack's room didn't have a window next to the bed. He forced his eyes to focus more clearly, and realized he was in his own bedroom, in his own bed.

Frowning, he looked down at himself, seeing the multitude of bandages that covered him. Everything still hurt, and his shoulder felt like it was on fire, so he couldn't have been out for long.

He slowly pushed himself off the bed, realizing his chest might be bare, but someone had dressed him in track pants. He listened hard, but couldn't hear anyone in the abandoned house. Reaching over to his bedside table, he opened the drawer and was surprised to find his guns and ammunition in it. Loading the gun he normally wore at his hip, he left the room. "Jack," he said, activating the gun.

Alex made his way carefully down stairs, his back pressed to the wall. A quick glance told him no one was in the kitchen, and he could see most of the living room from the bottom of the stairs. That left only his Uncles office.

His heart pounding, Alex moved around the corners of the house, making sure to glance in every direction. His muscles were tense and ready for anything, while the adrenaline circulating his bloodstream cushioned him from the pain of his wounds.

When he did come to Ian's office, he near stopped breathing. Sitting at the desk, quickly typing, was Yassen Gregorovitch.

Yassen looked up as he heard the sound of laughter coming from the doorway. Surprised, he frowned. Alex looked pale, shaky and like he was going to collapse in about two seconds. "You should not have gotten up."

"What are you doing here?" Alex asked, ignoring the man's rebuke. He leaned heavily on the frame, letting his gun arm drop.

Yassen stood up and had reached Alex's side in a few lengthened steps. He put his arms around the boy's waist, as much for personal comfort as for support. "I had to see if you had made it out alive. I knew you would come here."

Alex let himself lean into the man's support, inhaling his clean scent. "I'm glad you're here," Alex whispered, allowing himself to feel his love for the assassin. "I'm so tired."

Yassen felt him sway, and tightened his grip, pulling the boy closer to him. "Then you should rest. We can stay here for a short time, while you heal." He felt Alex nod, and then go limp in his arms. Concerned, he picked the boy up and carried him to the couch. He quickly checked over the bandages he had made, and cursed. Alex's move from downstairs had reopened some of the gashes. Grateful that his lover was, at least, alive, he set to work again.

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Alex placed the flower gently on the grave in front of him. He had brought only one, knowing that Jack had considered it a waste for people to buy many and then just leave them here.

He and Yassen had been in Chelsea for two weeks. He was healing quickly, and they were getting ready to be on the move again. SCORPIA had an assignment for them that would take them both to China.

He almost laughed, at that. SCORPIA had been ready to hand him the world on a platter if he would join them, as well as a very nice salary. He was already a legend among them. He had been prepared to turn them down, but had known he couldn't. He was steadfast in his devotion to his lover, and Yassen seemed equally determined to remain with him, convincing the Board that where Alex went, he would go too. They had even assigned Alex a code name to go by. He had found it intensely amusing to choose Cub. One last slap in the face of the organization that had created him.

And what else could he do? He knew what he was capable of, now. Life would never be the same. Every once in a while he would wake at night, wishing that he hadn't survived what he had done. He felt no remorse for it. He felt empty. When he looked at the world now, he saw people going about their pointless lives, completely ignorant to what was happening around them.

But then Yassen would hold him or make love to him, and remind him that he wasn't alone here, and that he was still capable of emotion. Would remind him that he still had one more reason to fight for. They lived their lives inside the walls as simply two men in love, and once outside those walls, both men were the stone killers they had been trained to be.

No, not what Jack, Ian or his parents would have wanted for him, and definitely not what he would have wanted for himself, but it was a life. And it was his.

He heard a twig snap behind him, but didn't move. He didn't have to. "Have you come to kill me?" he asked.

"No, lad. I can't even find it in myself to be angry with you," Smithers replied.

Alex turned to look at him. "You know why I did it?"

Smithers nodded sadly. "It was their own fault, I'm afraid. If they had left you alone after your Uncle, well, none of this would ever have happened. But they didn't, and the scorpion they played with finally stung them."

"You could come with me, Smithers. Your talents would be appreciated," Alex offered.

Smithers chuckled. "It would be a nice change of pace, but no, lad, I'm afraid not. You've got your loyalties now, and I've got mine. I just wanted to say thank you, for warning me."

Alex smiled. "You really were a good friend to me."

Smithers studied him. "But you didn't think twice about it when you walked away, did you?"

"No, Smithers, I didn't," Alex answered softly.

Smithers sighed and nodded. "I expected as much. No, I think we're both where we're meant to be. I just hope you can have a peace with it you never could with them."

Alex stood. "I hope I never see you again, Smithers, as we'll both be on opposite sides, but I do wish you well."

Smithers turned and walked away. He had said enough farewells to this boy- this man- and he wouldn't do it again.

Alex watched him go, thinking about what he said. He turned back to Jack's grave, and thought about the lover who was waiting at home for him, preparing for their assignment. "Yeah, we're where we're meant to be."

The end.