I am so sorry for the late update! I have a lot going on in my life so updates might be a little irregular. When people leave reviews it really motivates me to write, so please, please, please spend a few seconds to type one. Anyway, thanks to everyone who reviewed – I tried to reply but I didn't manage to get back to everyone, so sorry if I missed you. Enjoy.

Warnings: This chapter contains violence, torture and bad language.

Debrief

When Alex woke up he was no longer in the car. He panicked, assuming that they had been caught and that he was back in his cell, or perhaps somewhere worse. But then he realised that he was lying in a soft bed, hooked to monitors and a drip and pumped full of pain medication – the Boss had certainly never heard of pain medication. The ceiling was an unremarkable white plaster and was dull to stare at, so Alex sleepily rolled his head to the side. Tom was sitting next to him, leaning back on a chair with his eyes shut.

"Tom." Alex said, grateful that his friend was near. He watched as Tom opened his eyes and grinned.

"It's good to see you awake. They sedated you to treat you." Tom said.

"What happened?" Alex asked, confused. The last thing he remembered was falling asleep in the car. He still felt drowsy; like his head was spinning. It wasn't uncomfortable, just slightly off-putting.

"You fell asleep and wouldn't wake up when we finally got to Liverpool Street. So I carried you in with Jerry's help; we got some funny looks but as soon as we were in they knew exactly who you were. It seems like everybody has been looking for you. Anyway, your Doctor looked after you while I told this woman… Mrs James or something… exactly what you told me in the car."

"Mrs Jones." Alex suggested.

"Yeah that's it. Then they let me come in here and sit with you, but you were asleep for ages so I've been snoozing. Oh and Jack's on her way too – she went to stay with her family while you were gone. I think that they only let me stay because they didn't' want you to wake up and freak out or something."

"You talked to Mrs Jones?" Alex asked; slightly bemused at this strange turn of events.

"Yep. She made me sign the official secrets act too." Tom said with a grin. "Jerry had to sign it as well. He thinks I'm so much cooler now."

"How long was I out for?"

"Like eight hours. Your Doctor said that you would probably be coming around soon – he'll probably be to come and see you pretty soon." Tom said with a yawn. As if on cue the Doctor walked in, along with Mrs Jones.

"Hi Alex. I'm Dr Miles Clarkson. How are you feeling?" Dr Clarkson had a soft and friendly sounding voice that had probably been perfected from years of working with patients. Alex wondered how many of them had been agents returning from traumatic situations like his.

"Pumped full of pain medication." Alex replied, feeling woozy.

"I thought you would need it. Considering how long you've been in captivity for you're in great shape, but the welts on your back and your unhealed wounds and burns must have been very painful. You have a lot of scars, but it looks like a lot of your injuries have already been treated. Did you receive medical care while in captivity?" The doctor asked.

"Yeah. After every 'session'. They wanted me in good health for later." Alex explained. The doctor nodded before continuing.

"You're also a little malnourished and dehydrated. But your state of health is remarkably good considering that you've been held captive. Anyway, despite my opinion that you need to sleep, Mrs Jones wants to debrief you." Dr Clarkson finished, shooting Mrs Jones a disapproving look. She didn't even acknowledge it. Instead, she turned to Alex.

"If your friend leaves we can get started." Mrs Jones said, speaking up for the first time. She looked pointedly at Tom.

"I won't tell anyone what he says." Tom defended, obviously not wanting to leave his best friend's side. After all, he had only just got his friend back.

"I don't think you'll want to hear this Tom." Alex said with a sigh, "I'll tell you later, more nicely."

"If that's what you want." Tom agreed, and left the room, albeit fairly reluctantly. Mrs Jones waited until the door had shut before speaking. Alex didn't miss her enforced unfriendly expression; she was obviously shaken and was trying (rather unsuccessfully in his opinion) to hide it.

"We know you were grabbed on the way back from school." Mrs Jones continued, "So you can just start from your captivity.

"Ok." Alex closed his eyes, stepped into the past and started to recount the story.

Waking up was a slow process. The drug that they had given Alex left him in a bizarre state of lucid unconsciousness; he had essentially been hallucinating for a while. But gradually it wore off, and eventually he found himself sitting rather lopsidedly in a comfortable chair. He blinked slowly, becoming more aware of his surroundings. The room was attractive, with polished wood panels and a warm fire in the corner. The only thing out of place was a sinister looking table, with leather straps hanging off it. A man was sitting opposite him, with two bulky men standing beside him. Alex immediately nicknamed the man in the middle as the Boss – he reeked of authority and power.

"Where am I? Who are you?" Alex spoke slightly hoarsely; the drug they had used had left his mouth and throat feeling strange.

"You are at my facility. As for who I am… that does not matter. What does matter is what I want." The Boss had a distinctively posh accent, straight out of somewhere like Eton. It didn't match his heavy physique or bloodless face.

"What do you want?" Alex asked, not quite sure he actually wanted to know.

"I want you to become one of my people." The Boss said shortly. "You have quite a reputation for such as young person, Alex."

"You want me to work for you?" Alex summarised, irritated now. Why the hell couldn't all these people just leave him alone?

"You misunderstand. You will not work for me; I will own you. Anything I ask, you will do without question or comment. There will be no thoughts of disobedience; you will belong completely to me."

"I don't think that this is something…" Alex began, but before he could finish one of the henchman punched him in the stomach, winding him.

"You do not talk unless I have asked you a direct question, you just obey." The Boss snapped. "I will begin by breaking you down completely; you will become empty. Then I will train you and you will be mine. The breaking part is one I particularly enjoy; with you it may last for some weeks, perhaps even months. Now, is there anything else you wish to say before we begin?"

Alex was horrified, but he hid his expression. This man was clearly insane, and he was stuck with him. He decided to respond with a short, ugly swear word. But the Boss wasn't fazed; he just smiled.

"There is one thing you will always remember; from now till your death, I own you." The Boss continued. "I will brand it into your memory. Now take off your shirt."

"I hate to break it you but I play for the other team." Alex said with a smirk. As expected, he was rewarded with another blow. One of the henchman ripped his shirt off anyway, not even bothering to unbutton it. Being shirtless made him feel surprisingly vulnerable. He struggled as he was pulled over to the table in the middle of the room and strapped down – his wrists and ankles were first bound, before more straps were pulled across his body.

"You belong to me Alex. It's something I will not let you forget." The Boss went over to the fire and pulled out a branding iron. The end was red hot; the metal shaped to form the letters 'DR' enclosed in a circle. Alex tried to struggle against his bonds, but they were so tight he could barely move. He already knew it was too late. It took all his effort not to lose it completely, but he managed to maintain some kind of control. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and waited for the pain.

He didn't have to wait long. Alex screamed as he felt a blinding pain just above his hip, and smelt his flesh burning.

"It all went downhill from there." Alex finished, wincing at the memory.

"It's as we suspected. The man you described recruits his operatives with this particularly specialised method; they are the most ruthless and obedient in the world. When we raided the station you escaped from we found four other prisoners, all skilled intelligence workers from various agencies, who were part of the same indoctrination process. But the man you called the Boss got away." Mrs Jones said. She didn't sound particularly apologetic; nor did she elaborate (she didn't reveal the actual name of the Boss, for one thing). Alex's heart sank; he had really, really hoped that they would catch the Boss. Plus it was clear that, once again, MI6 was going to leave him in the dark like some petulant child unable to cope with the truth. Mrs Jones looked up at him, her face clinical. "What did they do to you?"

"Long periods of isolation intermixed with various creative forms of torture." Alex said slowly. The anger was beginning to build up inside him. He had come straight to MI6 for help, but they were treating him as though he had just come back from two months in the Bahamas'.

"Detail, Alex." Mrs Jones instructed. This little order set Alex off and the enforced calm he had been maintaining fell away. He suddenly realised how furious he was with everyone in this dark world that he had been pulled into.

"What do you want me to say? Do you want me to tell you exactly how it feels to be water boarded for what seems like hours? Or being burnt with a lighter every time the guy who smoked lit up, and waiting until he finished so he could stub it out on my skin? Or being locked in this tiny crate for what must have been days every time they couldn't be bothered to deal with me?" Alex's voice was rising gradually, his voice filling the room. "This has fucked me up and you know it. I don't have a chance now. Not a chance at being normal. Because I killed them and it felt fucking vindictive! I would do it again. So, no, I won't give you the gory details!" Alex yelled, blood pounding in his ears. Mrs Jones blank expression further angered him. "This was your fault. You made me into a weapon. You left me there for months. Did you even try to find me?" He hissed. "I don't want anything more to do with MI6, or the CIA, or even bloody ASIS. I am now ignoring you. I'll speak to my doctor, because quite frankly I want the pain meds and this bloody brand to be removed surgically. That's it. So you can tell Alan Blunt to go and fuck himself."

Mrs Jones had lost her emotionless expression as he had vented, and she winced at the final, spat out sentence. She tried to cover quickly afterwards, but Alex had already seen. He knew that she had once been a mother, and that this was probably increasing her obvious sense of guilt even more, but he figured that she deserved it. Trying to mask her sense of blame with an expression of cold indifference was not helping him, nor was it particularly convincing.

"Ok, Alex. I can see you're upset. We'll be in touch." Mrs Jones said, diplomatically, after a long pause. She got up to leave, shooting him a concerned look. Alex ignored her. He knew it was childish but right now he couldn't care less.

"Dr Clarkson. Please tell me you can get rid of the symbol." Alex said, turning to the bewildered doctor.

"Yes, that shouldn't be a problem. I know someone who is really very good in this field – but she's away for three more weeks in Somalia. She would be best; this kind of specialised burn needs a surgeon like her. So I'll schedule you in for when she gets back." Dr Clarkson informed him.

"That sounds great. Now can I go?" Alex asked.

"You need to heal up Alex." Dr Clarkson said carefully, obviously trying not to set him off again.

"I can do that at home. I just need rest, food and medication." Alex pointed out.

"This ordeal won't just go away. It's going to have a psychological impact on you as well as a physical one. You need time off from the world to heal. I would strongly suggest that we transfer you to St Dominic's Hospital." Dr Clarkson insisted.

"I'm fine." Alex said, as convincingly as possible. "You can't make me stay in hospital against my will."

"Alex. While most of you injuries are superficial or have already been treated while you were in captivity, you must be in a lot of pain. I'm also really worried about the possibility of PTSD." Dr Clarkson explained.

"I don't want to be in hospital. I just want to go home." Alex said stubbornly. Dr Clarkson sighed and looked at him, obviously realising that there was no way Alex was going anywhere near a hospital any time soon.

"If you are really unwilling to stay here then, since you're a special case, I suppose we could treat you at home. I would be happy to visit, and my colleagues would probably understand the situation." The doctor suggested.

"Fine." Alex agreed.

"I'll arrange an ambulance to drive you home later. But for now, sleep. You need to rest." Dr Clarkson said.

Alex tried to argue, but the Doctor had already emptied something into his drip and he felt himself, once again, drifting into a dreamless sleep.

I wasn't sure about this chapter, but I figured that I should post something. I hope you enjoyed it. A review would be really, really appreciated (plus you can tell me any characters or points you would like to be included).