Alex woke up to the feeling of someone watching him. Opening his eyes he saw a familiar shadow looming beside him. Danny with his lopsided smile and bright eyes watching him intently. Alex could feel his heart skip a beat, his hand reaching out to touch the beloved face in front of him. Only then did he become aware of the top spinning on the small bedside table. Spinning continuously. Round and round without faltering.

With a gasp Alex woke up, bolted halfway out of bed before he became aware of his surroundings. The dimmed light almost made the white room feel homey and welcoming. The image of Danny still in his mind, Alex was heaving for air. Five days since Alex had installed the webcam. Five nights with the same dream, the same nightmare. The same feeling of terror and despair when he was shocked into wakefulness.

It took several minutes before Alex dared to move away from the bed and start his morning routine. Too early, like the other days, but TRS would not question it. The nightmares were an interference which the program tried to soothe him through. Letting the lights be dimmed longer than normal, even provide a few extras with the daily food rations. Alex hid his face in his hands, trying to regain control with his emotions, willing his body to calm down.

He had kept updating and maintaining the TRS, going about his daily practices. There had been the occasional irregularity in the program, keeping Alex' hopes high about having reached someone outside. This morning TRS had several runtime errors in its log as well as a few new sets of algorithms. The latter seemed to be a response by TRS to some events in the outside world. TRS was programmed to not only learn and react, but also to actively influence events which had potential to create financial gain for Spectre's organisations.

Wit his face a blank mask, Alex analysed the data, numbers, objects. With a carefully considered movement he took the top and let it spin. He watched it as intently as ever, keeping tabs on the rhythm of his breathing, trying to calm his pulse. The top fell. Alex drew a deep breath. He looked through the log a second time, somehow managing to keep his hands from shaking. There was a pattern in the disruptions. Alex had to tear his eyes away from the screen to avoid alerting TRS to his agitation. Alex stood and went to the bookshelf behind him. When he took a book, he risked a direct look into the camera lens. For a few moments he just stared ahead. Then he blinked. Short. A longer blink. And short again. He turned away with the book in his hands, humming his sad melody and started to pace up and down in the small room.

It had begun.

Alex had no idea how Q-branch or whoever was on the other side of the camera had managed to stage the disturbances in the outside world with such precision, but he had no doubt about the intentionality behind them. At this point, TRS was able to react to a plethora of incidents ranging from the smallest rise and fall of stock markets to a killing spree committed in the murder capital of the world. It would instigate its own manipulations, altering headlines and black out news feeds.

The log clearly showed that TRS was reacting, unable to gain any grounds on whoever was upsetting its usual machinations. The continuous updates of algorithms were turning into error messages. Alex could watch how TRS slowly was turning down parts of its program to keep control of the core system. Having been a passive bystander for most of the day, Alex finally sat down and started a new line of attack from inside the program itself. His Trojan horse was executed, disguised as a small update to the part of TRS which contained an image recognition program. Inconspicuous, just like the original total return swap program was used banks in their national and international transfer of virtual assets.

While Alex was watching the code being executed, TRS' control of certain parts of his Internet access was weakening. For the first time in his months of capture, Alex was free to read news sites, uncensored by TRS. And within seconds his world was turned upside-down.

Naturally, Alex had set the image recognition program to look for Danny in every available media outlet, including CCTV and newspapers. Pictures of Danny were shown on the computer screen, the dark mop of unruly hair, his soulful eyes, the fine lines of his mouth. All of that had made Alex heart clench in longing. When he read the first part of the latest article accompanying a particular beautiful shot of Danny walking down a street, Alex pushed back his chair, violently knocking it into the bookshelf, before he rushed into the bathroom and vomited into the toilet.

Dead. He is dead, was the only coherent thought swirling through Alex' mind. He knelt in front of the toilet, having emptied himself several times. He did not heed the tears, the snot and vomit, smeared all over his face after a futile attempt to clean it away with his shirt sleeves. He was staring at the white tiles of the bathroom. The shower and its curtain, pulled neatly away to one side. The glass door out into the white room, half open. The floor, spotless. The towels, folded perfectly, hanging side by side on the rack. Clean, tidy. Sterile. Empty. Void.

The retching had eventually stopped and Alex was left sitting numb on the floor, his back against the wall of the bathroom. Staring into the nothingness that was to be his future.

"Did you imagine you'd spend the rest of your life alone?" Danny's words were spoken softly, without any judgement.

"Yes." His firm answer.

"I can't begin to understand what that must feel like." Neither had Alex. Had not known what it really would feel like to be alone. For the rest of his life.

"You always knew you would find someone?" Alex had be disbelieving. How could he not have known back then? Danny had been sitting right next to him. Patiently waiting for Alex to realise the love they shared for each other.

"Always."

Alex had failed. Failed Danny in so many ways.

There was only one thing left to do. Now. Alex managed to stand up, strip of his shirt and clean himself. He found a new shirt and went back to the computer. If he should have had any doubts as to stopping TRS, they were gone by now. TRS had to be torn down, had to vanish from this Earth. And once that was accomplished, Alex would find a way to end his own life. Taking his knowledge of the core programming of TRS with him.

Determined, Alex returned to his desk. He took the top and let it spin. It stumbled and fell predictably. This was no dream or nightmare. This was reality in all its terrifying clarity.

With new purpose, Alex restarted his programming. The error messages had accumulated while he had been away from the laptop. TRS was trying to protect its core functionality. So far, even Q-branch seemed to have been unable to break into the innermost parts of TRS. With a viciousness hitherto unknown to himself, Alex hit the keys. His mind tunnelling in on his self appointed task, turning him into the apparently emotionless machine, Frances, MI6 and later Spectre always had wanted him to be. The fuel needed to create the algorithms was coming from the well of emotions he had kept in check for the past months. From the fury of having failed Danny. From the injustice of being this close to coming back, only to find the love of your life had been taken away.

It became a dance between the three of them. Q-branch and Alex attacking from two sides, keeping up the pressure when one of them had to regroup, decode, and assemble a new part of the program. It felt like they were connected by telepathy. The third participant stumbling and stalling as the day wore on. Several times the lights in the white room were flickering, not that Alex would need light to continue his fight. Peripherally he recalled not having eaten anything since that morning. Or was it already the next day? He had no idea how long he had been in front of the machine, tirelessly keeping up with his partner from Q-branch. He was by now sure there was only one person on the other end. The execution of the new codes had become flawlessly intertwined with Alex', leaving TRS scrambling for any kind of purchase.

Then, Alex stopped. He had heard noises from the door. The silence, normally only broken by his tapping on the keyboard or the rustle of his clothes, was now accompanied by some commotion outside the door. The door, which led straight into his room. Meaning, the second door on the other side had to be open. Alex looked at the latest code, which was translating to machine language right now. It would be the last part necessary to finally close down TRS. Alex stood. Made sure the view to the screen was clear for the other to see. He waited.

The door broke open. A man, blond with piercingly blue eyes and blond hair stood in the doorway, holding up a gun, pointing directly at Alex.

"Q?" The man said, clearly talking to someone in his earpiece.

Alex was calm. His right hand was hovering over the keyboard, waiting for permission to set the very last part of his program in motion. Taking down TRS for good. His left was clutching the top, grounding him in the moment.

The man listened with a small smile forming on his face. He was handsome, Alex thought. The furiousness of the past hours or days was no longer apparent in Alex' face, which had turned into the blank mask of a man who had nothing left to lose, nothing left to live for.

The man indicated to Alex, looking pointedly at the computer and lowering the gun.

Alex pushed the return key. The lights went out for a short moment, then came back on in full force, blinding Alex. When he had his vision back, the other man had stepped aside making room for a newcomer.

Danny.

Alex stood rooted to the spot. His eyes wide open. He did not move. Barely dared to breath.

Danny took a step forward, into the white room. His face was as open as Alex remembered it. Had imagined it. Alex swallowed.

"Can I come in?"

Alex' nod was almost imperceptible.

Danny's face lit up in a smile. Brighter than the sun, it felt to Alex. He remained silent, standing absolutely still. Not the slightest smile, only his breath was quickening; his eyes the size of saucers.

Danny stopped in front of him. Alex could feel tears well up in his eyes. He could not speak. With the utmost concentration, he turned his left hand and revealed the top. No words were spoken. They both looked at Alex hand. It was shaking.

Carefully, Danny took the top and set it spinning on the desk. Alex could not look. He closed his eyes, pressed the eyelids together and listened. To their breathing, the humming from the computer and the faint grinding of the top, while it was spinning. And spinning. Alex made a small sound of distress. And grinding turned into a louder clack. Several clacks, as the top tipped over the edge of the desk and came to lie motionless on the floor.

Alex knelt down as if to collect the top. He still could not look at Danny.

Danny had knelt down opposite of Alex.

When Alex after long moments raised his eyes, Danny was watching him closely. He was waiting patiently, the smile sure and steady. Danny took the top and offered it to Alex. He took it, brushing Danny's fingers as if by accident.

The touch felt like a lightning bolt through his body. Alex flinched, barely suppressing a sob. The first touch of a human being for almost a year. Too much input, too many senses stimulated in ways which had been muted for far too long.

Danny looked alarmed, but remained calm.

"Are you okay?"

Danny's soft spoken words turned a switch in Alex. It brought him back. Back to their beginning, back to the now and here. His tears were flowing freely now. But he could not find words, only nod, afraid he might break the spell and Danny might vanish again.

"Can I hug you?"

Alex wanted to scream out his answer, wanted nothing more than to feel Danny close, being held securely in his arms. Nothing. The words would not come.

Danny tilted his head slightly, looking questioningly at Alex. Slowly, Danny stretched out his arms, inching closer towards Alex, who was shaking violently. He closed his eyes. The sounds, the scents and the warmth closing in on him, it was too much. Too little. He wanted to throw himself into Danny's arms. Wanted to close the gap; wanted to run, to get away.

The touch was tentative, a whisper only. When Alex stayed, shaking, the touch became firmer. A real embrace, enveloping Alex in Danny's arms, in Danny's body. Strong hands moved gently, caressing Alex' back. Danny was babbling sweet, soothing nonsense.

Alex wanted to stay.