A/N: Hi!

WHAT A WEEK, my friends, what a week.

I miss 3 days of school and everyone goes insane. Some people in my grade were suspended and it's all anyone can talk about - I have no idea what's going on.

Sorry this is kind of short. I need to get to the next chapter :P

And this is also a day late, whoops.

On the bright side, it's almost time for NaNoWriMo! Goodbye, GPA and productivity! (you think I'm kidding - my grades always drop in November. Too much writing, not enough time for school)

Alex leaned against the wall outside Danielle's room with his phone painfully jammed up against his ear. It rang hollowly four times then cut off, just like the other three times he had tried to call Ben. He hit redial and tried again.

And again.

No answer.

His fingers drummed against his thigh. Dozens of tiny muscles cricked in his shoulders from sleeping slouched in that awful plastic chair, and his eyes felt sticky from - crying.

Ugh.

Giving up on Ben answering his calls, Alex shoved his phone back into his pockets and reentered the room. Danielle sat up, her hair splayed out across the pillows, and gazed out the window. He couldn't tell what she was thinking - it was hard, with her. She guarded everything so closely.

Just like him.

Alex lifted his hand in a small wave, trying to catch her attention, but her eyes were glued to the city bustling around outside the window.

He cleared his throat. "Danielle."

After a few beats she blinked and glanced at him. "Yes?"

"Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine," she replied, absently twirling a strand of hair around her fingers. "Thinking about what you told me."

Alex internally winced. He'd caved and told her everything - the missions, the traumas, Ash, his parents, the thing he was working on now. Everything except how Jack really died.

At first, she hadn't believed him.

He didn't blame her - most people wouldn't. Teenage spies were the stuff of fantasies because no one would dare use a child in games of war, right? Except MI6, of course.

"Hey, it's all right."

She shook her head. "It's not, though. You tell me that it's not my fault what happened to me, but you blame yourself for something too. I can tell. How - how am I supposed to believe you, when-" her voice cracked suddenly and she glanced out the window again, eyes bright. "When you don't even believe yourself?"

Alex felt a steel grate slam shut inside his chest to hold back all the memories and guilt and blame that had tormented him for half a decade. He fumbled for words, a reply, anything to say and break the awful silence that descended between them.

"I believe you," he said at last. "That it wasn't your fault. That's why I keep telling you that, because if I can see it, you should too."

He remembered what he wanted to ask her and hated himself for even thinking of it, but it was the last resort he could turn to.

"But, Alex -" she began.

He cut her off. "No. please, Danielle - don't be like me."

Her gaze softened. She motioned him closer and, when he approached, threw her arms around his neck in a feeble hug. He could feel her arms trembling from the strain and wrapped his arms around her, careful not to dislodge the IV.

"Thanks," she said softly.

He didn't know what she was thanking him for. "Uh - you're welcome?"

She sniffed and he pulled away but stayed by her side, sitting on the edge of the mattress. Leaning against his shoulder, she closed her eyes and shifted to a more comfortable position.

"Hey." he gently jostled her shoulder.

Her eyelids fluttered open.

"Don't sleep yet - I have a question."

"What?" she murmured.

"You can say no. There are other ways we can do this. You don't owe me anything, so don't let that affect your answer. Would you be willing to help us arrest August?"

Her eyes shot wide open and she scrambled to sit up, fingers curling around his wrist and gripping tight. "You can do that? Please. I'll do whatever you want. I just want him gone."

Alex began to outline his plan.

It was dangerous.

It was illegal.

There wasn't time for anything else.

Two Months Later

"Are you sure about this?" Tom asked. He hovered over Danielle as she put the finishing touches on her bracelet - something Ben had procured for her, she hadn't asked where- and gently ran her finger around the razor-sharp edge. The bracelet was one of six bangles, each outfitted with a sharp blade and magnetic aluminum casing.

"Yes," she snapped, anxiety putting an edge in her voice. "For the last time, I'm not changing my mind."

"Okay," he said. "I'm just worried-"

"Don't be. It's fine."

He let out a tense sigh. "I know. I trust Alex."

"So do I."

And she did. He had explained to her his idea and hated himself for even suggesting it, not realizing that this was the push she needed to act on the ever-present desire to strike back at August, to make him feel some part of the torment he'd caused her for the last few years.

She hadn't counted on still having shaky arms and legs, muscles that refused to work, but the new drug she took was helping. She could walk now, an improvement.

Danielle uncapped the small bottle of pills and shook two into her hand. They were small, white, and stamped with a serial number. Taking them felt like shoving the barrel of a gun down her throat.

Morphine.

Taking a deep gulp from the glass of water next to her, she swallowed the two pills with a grimace. Tom sympathetically watched, and reached out to rub her shoulders. The gentle touch sent currents of relief through her blood as she took a slow breath and tried to calm down, wishing for the clock to move faster so she could get this over and done with.

Without meaning to, she leaned towards Tom. "Will you be in the van?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

"I hate those pills," she said. "They're what got Mum hooked."

"You won't."

She bit down hard on her lower lip. "What makes you so sure?"

He smiled and slung his arm over her shoulders. "You're better than that. You know better, and Alex would die before he let that happen to you."

"He'd better not."

Someone knocked loudly on her door. "Danielle! Are you ready?"

"Yes!" she called back, pulling away from Tom and flinging the door open.

Quinn stood in the hallway, already outfitted in dark cargo pants and a long-sleeved black shirt molded to his torso. He held a padded vest over one arm and some strapped contraption on the other, obviously in the process of getting ready. He saw Tom and gave Danielle a look with raised eyebrows.

She felt her face flush bright red and brushed by him without a word.

"No closed doors," Quinn muttered under his breath.

Tom, looking equally uncomfortable, strode over towards Alex. The two stood in the corner of the safe house's living room, conversing in hushed tones.

When Danielle descended the stairs, Clara leapt up from the couch, shiny hair swinging over her face, and hugged her.

"Dani! You don't look like yourself. Are you sure-"

"If one more person asks me that, I'm going to hurt them." Danielle rubbed her eyes, careful not to smudge the heavy makeup there. "I'm sure. I don't look like myself, that's the point."

Besides not wanting to look like herself in case of cameras at August's estate, she didn't want him to see her normally. She didn't think she could stand living any longer if she saw what August wanted every time she stared in a mirror.

Clara watched her, concern etched in her face. "Stay safe, okay?"

"Of course. Are -" Danielle swallowed, her mouth suddenly dry. "Are you coming?"

With a vindictive glower at Luke, who was standing in a huddle with Ben, Ian, and Quinn, Clara shook her head. "No. I'm not allowed." She flung her hands up with exasperation. "As if it's unsafe! I'm not the one with a stalker! And they're letting Tom go-"

"Hey," Tom called over. "I was there-"

"I was kidnapped," Clara hissed, her dark eyes flashing.

Tom scowled.

"Shut up." Alex stared at both of them with steel in his face. "This is not the time for bickering."

Danielle looked at him - Alex was dressed like Quinn, all in black, but he already wore a strapped holster slung over his back, sans the gun. His hair was shockingly gold against the dark clothing.

Luke detached himself from the other soldiers and strode to the door, tense and purposeful. "Are you ready? Let's go."

Danielle started after him but Clara pulled her back in a tight hug.

"I can't believe they're not letting me go," she muttered, her eyes glittering with tears. "Danielle-"

"I'm going to be *fine*," Danielle said firmly. Maybe if she said it enough, she'd believe it.

The smile Clara wore was sad. "Ian and Ben are staying with me."

Ben didn't appear too happy about that either, but Danielle said nothing, only nodded and bit her lip.

She wasn't worried about herself. Honestly, she didn't really care.

She just didn't want Alex to blame *himself* if anything else went wrong.

(line break)

The car ride to August's estate was filled with tense silence. Danielle sat in the back of the van - which, to her surprise, was a plumber's truck outfitted with surveillance equipment- on the metal floor next to Tom. Alex stood on her other side, occasionally raking his hands through his hair.

She nudged his leg. "Stop. You're more worked up than *me*."

His lips quirked up in a half-apologetic smile. "It's been a while." Something darker lingered unspoken in his gaze as he fixed his eyes on the blank screens and said nothing else.

Danielle pulled her knees up to her chest. She hated the clothes she wore - ripped, ragged jeans, a gauzy shirt with slits up the sleeves and a wedge cut out of the back. It was one of Clara's. Clara was a little taller than she was, so not only did the clothes not fit quite right, the shirt's back - or lack thereof- was in danger of revealing her scars there.

She pulled her hair forewards over her shoulders to hide the small black earpiece hooked over her right ear. The wire snaked down into the collar of her shirt down her arm, taped to the underside of her skin so it wouldn't show through the cuts in her sleeves.

"What happened?" Tom asked, as if reading her mind.

A thrill of fear ran down her spine as she glanced at him. He gestured to the ropy scar winding over her left shoulder.

She adjusted her shirt. "Nothing."

The look he gave her plainly stated his disbelief, and she stared at the bottom of the van.

"Are you-"

"Tom," Alex said warningly. "Leave my sister alone."

Danielle almost smiled at that. She and Alex had kept up the sibling charade during her stay at the hospital, and even afterwards. The conversations they'd had. . .

"So," Danielle said to turn Alex from his thoughts. "You're my brother, right? Tell me about Mum and Dad."

Alex smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "There was a horrible plane crash nearly eighteen years ago. Our parents both died. They were on a business trip - Dad was a stockbroker and he worked with the Royal and General Bank on investments. They left us behind with our uncle so they could have a break."

"What did Mum do?"

"She stayed at home. You were a handful, and I wasn't old enough for school. After the economy tanked daycare was too expensive. She didn't mind, though. Loved both of us."

"I was the handful?" Danielle shook her head. "Excuse me, Alex, but I'm pretty sure you were a terror as a toddler."

He grinned, more genuinely this time. "No. I was the perfect child."

"Who do I look like?" She didn't mind this, it was almost like a game.

Alex's eyes narrowed, scrutinizing her from head to toe. "You look like Mum, her hair, but you have Dad's eyes. I'm the other way around."

Danielle nodded, thinking on this. "What happened after they died?"

"We were sent to live with our uncle," Alex said immediately. "Ian. Then, when you were twelve, he died in a car wreck."

She twisted her face into a frown. Everything he said had happened, to him. "What's the real version?"

"Our Dad was a spy. Mum was traveling with him for something; their plane was bombed to assassinate him. Our uncle was a spy too, and he was assassinated." Alex took on a flat monotone, the story obviously one he had told before.

Danielle felt a stab of sympathy for these people she never knew. "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, well-" he raked his hands through his hair, sighing the kind of sigh that people made right before they started crying. "That won't bring them back."

Danielle said nothing else, but her hand drifted to the cross-shaped pendant that always hung around her neck. The silver plating had tarnished and roughened the underlying metal in some places but she was almost afraid to polish it. She barely knew what the shape represented; it was a gift, ten years old, from a man she barely remembered.

Alex watched her hand. "Where'd you get that?"

"From my Dad," she said. "Left it on the doorstep one day."

"Do you remember him?"

"No." Yes. Almost every day.

"I'll help you find him," Alex offered.

"It's okay. You're family."

She didn't tell him the real reason she never looked for a man with hair colored like barley: he would be ashamed of her, of what she became.

Better not to find him.

Tom nudged her in the shoulder as the van jerked to a stop, making her bang her head against the wall and hiss a breath out from between her teeth. "Ready for this?"

She tried to ignore the knots tying themselves in her stomach. "Yeah."

Alex hated the entire idea from start to finish, and he never would have suggested it if there was any other way. He almost called it off - surely there were other ways, other people to turn against the enemy.

There just wasn't enough time.

Danielle was wired with an earpiece/mic double that would allow them to hear everything that went on. Wolf had pulled the van into the open garage of a house across the street - the owners were away on vacation, they'd made sure the place would be empty. Due to the vacancy, Snake and Eagle had been by a few days ago to set up some cameras directly facing August's . . . mansion.

A disgustingly opulent mansion.

Wrought iron grates barred the driveway from any passing traffic. A winding cobblestone drive led up the hill to the front of the house, a large patio with grecian columns holding up a large, peaked overhang. The rest of the house, from the floor plans Ben had called in from a friend, was just as massive. A six car garage, indoor swimming pool, seven bedrooms, and a state-of-the-art kitchen made up the larger features, and Alex found himself worrying that they might not be able to find Danielle in time if something went grievously wrong.

"How does a criminal have this?" Snake muttered.

"Friends in high places," Alex said.

Snake didn't say anything, but his eyebrow twitched. He looked almost . . . guilty.

Wolf unbarred the van's back door and pulled it open. "Danielle, out."

Her face ashen, Danielle got to her feet and gripped the door for balance as she stepped down onto the concrete floor.

Alex quickly followed suit and landed on his feet with almost no sound. "Hey, you can end this whenever you like." He scrutinized her face, watching for any sign that she wanted to back out. He wouldn't fault her for it - hell, he didn't even want her doing this.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I want to do this, it's just - bad memories."

"It's your decision," he repeated, reaching out to wrap his arm around her shoulders. She took a shaky breath and set her jaw, determined. "This is my job, my life. Not yours."

She shook him off. "No, Alex."

"Watch the wire."

"I will."

"You don't have to be in there for long."

"I know."

"Just get him to say something to the effect of drug deals or coercion."

"I will." Her face had an ill-looking pallor and she checked her hair once more to be sure it was covering the wire. She clenched her fist around her necklace and dropped it beneath her shirt, out of sight.

"You'll be okay."

"Yeah," she breathed. "I know."

Even as she slipped out of the garage and walked down the driveway to circle up and around to August's gate, Alex's mind raced ahead to think of preparations for the concert. It was one week away. He wouldn't have waited this long except Danielle could barely walk one week ago after being stuck in the hospital for almost two months.

He'd visited her every day and spent most nights there.

She had told him. . .things.

The morphine made Danielle loopy - wait, no. Not loopy so much as relaxed. Alex could tell, with increasing accuracy, when her doses fluctuated in amount and frequency. She was more at ease, more relaxed than he'd ever seen her.

"I hate the medicine," she said cheerfully.

Alex glanced at her over the pile of sheet music he held balanced on his legs, mentally running through the piece. "Why?"

"It reminds me of August. He gave her pain meds, and it just progressed from there. She was paranoid before. Worried. Double-checked the locks at night, wouldn't let me leave my room. That was right after we moved into our new house."

"Your mother?"

"Unfortunately." Danielle's face had a faint flush and she took a swig of water from the bottle on her night stand. "Happened right after dad left."

"I'm sorry."

"Not your fault."

Silence ticked on between them for a few moments before she asked, "I wish I wasn't related to them, and you were my real brother."

He scoffed. "Trust me, you don't want that."

"But I do. I don't even want to think about them. You're nice. You stay with me for God-knows-what reason, you talk to me and you try to help me."

"Aren't you worried about getting hurt?" She should be, he thought. Before she became the next Jack.

Her lips twisted up in a bitter smirk. "Like that's anything new."

Alex stared at the grainy camera feed as Danielle walked up to the gates and punched the code into the black box. After a few seconds the electronic lock gave way for the gates to swing open and admit her to the property.

She trekked up the driveway to the front door. Alex sat behind one of the screens and pulled on the headphones that had a wireless connection to her earpiece, adjusting the settings so that the noise on her end filtered through the speakers.

"Can you hear me?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice a static burst of sound.

"Good."'

Everyone in the van heard the faint feedback as she rang the doorbell.

Wolf leaned against the wall, tuning up his gun in the cramped space. Snake stood silently with his arms folded over his chest.

Tom clenched the back of Alex's chair like a drowning man holding onto a rope.

Alex took a steadying breath and tried to remind himself that this had to be done otherwise the Prime Minister would be killed and Parliament would never concede a successor, not with the available candidates.

Alex had put together the plot when he found out during his research that Johann Icarus stood to become a member of the House of Lords if one of the members had to permanently rescind their seat. Another member of the same house was in good standing to become Prime Minister if the course of the next election went as planned, but she didn't want to wait that long. It was common knowledge that the Minister had been involved in shadowy circumstances with drug crimes before his career in politics, and since his approval had cracked down hard on the criminal underworld. What better victim for a drug-related assassination?

A few weeks ago, Ben had approached Alex with a folder full of scanned documents from the MI6 database confirming this theory and giving the name of the next potential Prime Minister: Jillia Lacroix. They also contained an interesting fact about her - she was suffering from leukemia, a degenerative disease of the blood.

Alex wondered if that had anything to do with the plot. The evidence against her was purely circumstantial, but it made sense.

Everything else - the microwave, the stabbing, the car wreck, the poisoned milk - it was all a distraction, something to mislead them from the main perpetrators in a plot older than England's constitution.

Alex was a fool.

He should have seen it earlier, but now here they were, scrambling for time, with Danielle walking into the arms of someone who wanted to destroy her in every way possible.

He should known.

Note - sorry for the awkward time skip! I gave myself too long a timeline for this lol