Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me and I make no money with it.

Summary: "A strange expression flitted across the assassin's face and it took Alex a moment to figure out that it was amusement. Unfortunately, understanding didn't make the situation any less bizarre in this case."

Author's Notes: A time jump and some Yassen-Alex interaction. Always pay attention to the dates.

Date: Jan. 1st - 5.20 am, between Smile and Blood (Timeline: http :/ shiruy. livejournal. com/ 3602. html)

Edited: 14.12.10

12. Insanity

His head was all fuzzy, refusing to form a single straight-forward thought, but that was okay for now. His body was heavy and exhausted anyway, unwilling to let itself be moved, and he was comfortably warm. If he was in trouble for once looking for a way to escape could wait a couple more hours.

He rolled from his side onto his stomach and snuggled deeper into the covers, relishing in the warmth and softness. There was no way this was a hospital - which, lately, was one of the first things he checked for when he woke up and didn't know where he was - because the bed was way too comfortable, the blanket too thick and it smelled nice, like some kind of musky aftershave or something.

He was avoiding both opening his eyes and thinking about why he was there by taking deep, measured breaths, attempting to figure out what about the smell he liked, when a door opened and someone entered the room. Alex hadn't made a sound, he was sure that not even his breathing had changed, and still the person suddenly changed directions mid-step and instead of going somewhere to the right they approached the bed. Alex hoped he wasn't about to be shot in his pretend-sleep.

"Good morning."

The teen's eyes shot open and he stared up at the man standing next to the bed. Immediately, everything came flooding back. The mission. The hunt. Yassen.

[Barner.]

He said the first thing he could think of.

"It's dark outside."

A strange expression flitted across the assassin's face and it took Alex a moment to figure out that it was amusement. Unfortunately, understanding didn't make the situation any less bizarre in this case.

"Nonetheless it is morning. How are you feeling?"

"Okay, I guess." His voice sounded like someone had stuffed sandpaper down his throat. "Can I have a glass of water?"

Yassen nodded as if he hadn't expected anything else and turned to walk away.

More than a little bemused now, Alex rolled back onto his back and pushed himself upright with his left hand. Several so far unnoticed bruises protested the move, but the worst really was the straight line of persistent burning drawn across his shoulder blade. He had had unbelievable luck dodging that bullet.

He wondered what he must look like now, with two dead straight scars drawn across both his shoulders. But then, he was so scarred up by now that it probably wouldn't stand out too much anyway. And while the new wound hurt, the old one on the other side was more memorable by far. It had been given to him by his own copy, after all.

He heard water running in the next room over and the next moment Yassen came back, carrying a glass of water. Alex swallowed dryly, his throat feeling even more parched at the sight.

The Russian offered him the glass silently and Alex took it, emptying it in a few large gulps. When he looked up again the man was staring at him.

The teen froze, unsure how to react to such close scrutiny. He started in surprise when the assassin sat down on the edge of the bed.

"Your fever has gone down a lot."

Considering how woozy and out of it he still felt Alex felt very tempted to ask 'Compared to what?' But Yassen was already continuing.

"You have been in and out of it for a little more than two days. You had a case of moderate hypothermia that led to you developing a fever. You should be back to full health in approximately a week," the man explained.

The teen blinked... and blinked again. He was overwhelmed both by the fact that two whole days had passed, as well as the fact that he hadn't ever heard the Russian talk so much before. And that Alex owed him his life several times over didn't help the situation any either.

"I..." He hesitated, unsure where to even start. "Thank you. For helping me." The young spy couldn't imagine why Yassen had done it. For that matter, he had no idea anymore why he had decided to call the man. What the hell had he been thinking?

He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected - probably none at all - but he definitely wasn't prepared for the assassin's lips to quirk into a small smile.

"You have thanked me before, but considering your condition, it is no surprise that you do not remember."

Alex looked down, feeling strangely flustered. This was awkward.

"Uh, right. Then I'll just..." He wanted to say 'go', but to be honest, he was exhausted, didn't know where he was, had no idea how to reach MI6 and it was possible that Weller's men were still searching for him. Hell, he didn't even know where his own clothes were! Right now he was wearing boxers and a t-shirt that were both too big on him and he was so, so sick of other people undressing him while he was unconscious. Though it had most likely been necessary to save him from freezing to death.

The teen was grateful that Yassen didn't comment on the lost expression that momentarily appeared on his face before he could lock it down again.

"Then you'll just rest for now. You are not recovered."

Alex nodded and carefully laid down again, avoiding meeting the Russian's calm gaze. He was grateful for not having to think of a course of action himself for once but at the same time kind of annoyed that Yassen just went ahead and told him what to do. How was he supposed to handle this? Yassen wasn't his enemy anymore, but the young spy wasn't sure how else to deal with the assassin. It wasn't like they were friends or even just allies, was it?

The man shifted his weight and the teen's eyes automatically snapped back to him, permanent suspicion drilled into him by his experiences making him react.

"Do Weller's men have a reason to keep coming after you?" the Russian asked.

If only the young spy knew that himself. He shrugged tiredly. "I don't know why they came after me in the first place. I was just supposed to tag along to play cover, great as that worked out. My partner is dead."

Yassen watched him for several seconds, maybe looking for something, and apparently he found it because he nodded. "Let's hope they assume you drowned. That way you can leave in a few days."

Alex looked off to the side, unsure of how to take that. It sounded like Yassen wanted to get rid of him as soon as possible, and all things considered, it would only be logical that he did. It still left the teen with an uncomfortably heavy feeling in his stomach, which was just stupid. He was hurt because an internationally known and hunted assassin didn't want him around? Maybe it was time to talk to one of those psychologists MI6 kept attempting to send him to.

The bed moved and Alex watched as Yassen stood up, leaned over to take the empty glass and then started walked towards the door again.

"The bathroom is through here," he gestured at another half-open door. "We will talk more later."

With that he left and Alex found himself staring at a closed door. At least he hadn't heard the lock turn.