Author's note:
Okay, I'm stuck with editing and editing these last two chapters, full of self-doubt and adding and removing scenes all the time :D
So I decided that I'm just going to publish these as they are now because otherwise I'll never get it done. So double chapter drop today, the last chapter of this story will follow soon.
Sorry if the pacing is off but at some point I noticed that I'm just stretching and stretching this, trying to include scenes to cover all the loose ends or plot holes and characters etc. and something just had to be cut off that this story can come to it's conclusion at some point :)
Thank you for all of you who have left a comment, I treasure each one of them. Also thank you for everyone who has stuck with this story from the beginning to its end. Last chapter will be posted soon!
Colonel Sanders paced the length of his office, his usually composed demeanor shattered by the weight of what he had just learned. His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, his shoulders stiff with tension as he sent angry glares outside. It was dark, just past midnight but he knew there wouldn't be any rest tonight.
"This is... unbelievable," he muttered, his voice low and tinged with outrage. "Scorpia, embedded within the SAS? Within the British military itself? And at such high levels?" He stopped pacing and turned to face Mrs. Jones. "How did this happen?"
Mrs. Jones sat calmly across his desk, her fingers steepled as she watched Sanders carefully. "It didn't happen overnight, Colonel," she said evenly. "Scorpia is nothing if not patient. They've spent years—decades, even—building their network. Infiltrating institutions like the SAS is exactly the kind of long game they excel at."
Sanders shook his head with disbelief. "And some of them are here? In the camp? Right now?"
"Yes," Mrs. Jones confirmed, her voice steady. "Several, in fact. That's why I brought you into this, Colonel. We need someone with your authority and expertise to assist in containing this situation. These people are highly trained and dangerous. If we don't act decisively, it could compromise more than just this camp."
Sanders exhaled sharply, running a hand over his face. "And you're certain about the intel? There's no room for error here. If we're wrong—"
"We're not wrong," she interrupted firmly. "The information comes directly from the interrogation of Scorpia operatives captured in the aftermath of this incident. Combined with cross-referencing the intelligence your men were able to gather from the resort, we've been able to identify them beyond a shadow of a doubt. My people have spent the last day to make sure of that."
"You're telling me," Colonel Sanders said, his voice low as he slowly sat behind his desk, "that you've known about these Scorpia agents for a full day, and you didn't inform me immediately?"
His eyes narrowed at Mrs. Jones. "You allowed them to roam freely around the camp—around the prisoners, around the children. Do you have any idea what could have happened?"
Mrs. Jones met his gaze calmly, her posture unflinching. "I understand your frustration. But there were reasons for the delay."
"Reasons?" Sanders exclaimed. "Do you have any idea what kind of risk you took? What if they'd compromised the prisoners? Or worse, harmed one of the children? This camp is under my command! I should have been informed."
Mrs. Jones folded her hands on the desk between them. "Colonel, I assure you, the decision was not made lightly. We couldn't afford to tip our hand. If those agents had suspected that we were aware of their identities, they might have tried to escape or, worse, acted in desperation. We had to be absolutely certain we had identified every sleeper before taking any action."
"And what if you'd missed one? What if they'd already made their move while you were sitting on this information?" Sanders challenged feeling frustrated for having this same argument with Mrs. Jones yet again. It was always like this with intelligence agencies. Sanders knew he shouldn't be surprised but their way of working rubbed him wrong every time.
"They didn't," Mrs. Jones replied matter-of-factly. "Our surveillance teams were monitoring them closely. Every suspect was accounted for at all times. The safety of the camp was never compromised."
"That's a hell of a gamble," Sanders shot back, his tone sharp with irritation. "You're asking me to trust that your people had eyes on every potential threat in a camp this size, with all the chaos we've been dealing with. I can't run an operation like this if I don't have all the facts, Jones."
"This wasn't just about the camp," Mrs. Jones said. "This is about dismantling Scorpia's network within every institution they have infiltrated to. If we'd moved too soon, we risked missing key operatives, giving them opportunity to evade capture."
Sanders felt his jaw tightening as he processed her words. "You should have trusted me. You should have brought me in the moment you knew."
"And I would have, if I hadn't had to verify your own status first," Mrs. Jones said and Sanders's eyes widened slightly, a flash of offense crossing his face before he quickly masked it.
"You're not compromised, Colonel," Mrs. Jones stated simply. "I'm confident of that now. But we had to be thorough. Scorpia's reach has proven deeper than anyone anticipated."
Sanders exhaled sharply. "Fine. But don't think for a second that I'm okay with how this was handled. From now on, I expect to be in the loop."
"Understood," Mrs. Jones said but Sanders knew better than to take her word for it. He gave her a curt nod nonetheless, tapping the file that was placed on his desk.
"I knew Scorpia was a threat, but this… This is a cancer. A rot in our own ranks. And some of these names…" He shook his head. "People I've served with. Trusted."
"I understand how difficult this is," Mrs. Jones said, her tone softening ever so slightly. "But we can't afford hesitation. The safety of the country depends on rooting them out now, before they can cause any more damage."
Sanders straightened. "Tell me then, what's the plan?"
Mrs. Jones leaned forward, flipping open the folder to reveal rows of photographs, each accompanied by a name and rank. "We'll be conducting simultaneous detentions. Our teams are already in position. For these persons in the camp, we'll coordinate with your most trusted personnel to ensure swift and quiet apprehensions. For those outside, MI6 has already deployed agents to intercept them at their respective locations."
Sanders flipped through the pages, scanning the names and faces of soldiers who had betrayed their country. His expression darkened. "This will cause a stir," he said grimly. "The SAS doesn't take kindly to internal scandals, especially one of this magnitude."
"Which is why we're keeping this as contained as possible," Mrs. Jones replied. "The public cannot know the way we have been compromised. The fallout would be catastrophic for national security. This will be handled internally."
Sanders closed the folder, his expression hardening. "I'll need to brief my team. Only the most trusted soldiers and officers."
"Of course," Mrs. Jones said. "And, Colonel—be careful. These people have nothing to lose. If they suspect they've been compromised, they won't hesitate to act."
Sanders nodded, standing and adjusting his uniform. "I'll make sure we're ready. This ends today."
In one of the camp's barracks the sounds of boots being removed, belts unbuckled, and uniforms tossed onto bunks filled the air as J-Unit was getting ready to lay down and rest after a long day. Viper sat on the edge of his bunk, absently fiddling with the strap of his watch. He'd spent most of the day watching over the kids and Alex, and his unit mates were all too aware of it. They hadn't bothered him with questions during the day but now he could feel their curiosity radiating towards him.
"So," Lynx began, leaning against the frame of his bunk. "You know we are dying from curiosity over here. What exactly happened to you? We haven't gotten any information regarding it even though it was hell of an operation."
Viper gave a noncommittal shrug. "We were captured, escaped and you came in to take care of the enemy. I don't know what more to tell you."
Bear joined in on the conversation, tossing his boots to the side. "Right. And I'm sure that's all it was. Come on, Viper. Spill. And what's the story with that Alex kid? I mean, the rest of you barely had a scratch and he looked like he had been through a grinder."
"Yeah, Lynx and I were the ones who found him by that lake. Kid was barely holding it together. "Falcon said the concern and horror still fresh on his mind. "For a minute I really thought he was a goner. Worse shape than any of the others. What happened out there?"
Viper froze for a fraction of a second, his hands stilling on his watch strap. "I wasn't there for all of it," he said carefully.
Lynx raised an eyebrow, his gaze narrowing. "Come on, Viper. Don't give us that. Surely you can tell us something."
Viper's jaw tightened. The truth pressed against the back of his teeth, but he couldn't let it out. He, Jaguar and Snake had been debriefed, and the instructions had been crystal clear: under no circumstances were they to discuss what had happened to Alex or the details of their captivity—not even with their own unit.
"Actually, I'm not allowed to tell you anything," Viper said finally.
Bear frowned, crossing his arms. "What the hell does that mean? We're a team, a unit. When something happens to one of us, we are let in on it. There should be no secrets, you know that. Especially this kind, it could compromise us in the field if we don't know what happened or how it might've affected you."
"I know," Viper said huffing with frustration. "And I hate keeping things from you. But orders are orders. And coming from the very top this time. I can't say anything."
The room fell into a tense silence. Falcon leaned back, relenting "So, we're just supposed to accept that? No explanation, no context? To anything that took place?"
"Yeah," Viper confirmed looking at his unit mates. "That's exactly what you're supposed to do. I don't like it either, but it's not up for debate."
Lynx exchanged a glance with Bear, then sighed heavily. "Fine. But I'm worried for that kid—if he's in trouble..."
Viper's gaze dropped to the floor. "Trust me," he said quietly. "If there was anything I could do to help him, I would…"
The conversation was interrupted by a sharp knock on the door. Viper glanced up, his brows furrowing as Lynx moved to open the door to reveal the familiar figures of K-Unit.
"Evening", Wolf greeted them. "Colonel Sanders has called us to gather in barrack seven."
Lynx exchanged a glance with the others. "Any idea what this is about?"
Wolf shook his head. "He didn't say. Just that we should be there as soon as possible."
Viper stood, already reaching for his gear. "Got it. Let's move."
The unit dressed quickly and efficiently, boots laced and jackets pulled on with practiced precision. No one spoke as they got ready, but there was tension in the air as each one of them was wondering what could have happened for Colonel to call them in this late in the evening.
When they stepped outside, the night air was crisp, the camp around them eerily quiet. K-Unit led the way and as they got to the barrack, they noticed some other units already gathered there, faces serious as everyone waited to be briefed on whatever had prompted this late-night assembly.
Colonel Sanders stood near the front, speaking in low tones with a few senior officers. As the members of K- and J-Unit stepped inside, Sanders turned his attention to them and approached the group.
"Viper. Snake," Sanders said, his voice low. "A word."
The two exchanged quick glances before stepping aside with him, a short distance away from the rest of the soldiers.
Colonel Sanders crossed his arms as he met their eyes. "I'm afraid I can't allow either of you to participate in tonight's operation."
Viper's brows shot up in surprise. "Sir, with all due respect, why not?"
Snake frowned. For the two of them to be singled out, it could mean only one thing. "If this is about the recent events..." Snake started but was interrupted by Colonel who held up a hand to silence them. "That's precisely the issue. You're too close to the situation. Besides, I have different task for you tonight. I need you to head to the infirmary and keep an eye on the kids and their parents, and Cub. They'll need someone they trust nearby."
Viper opened his mouth but hesitated. He didn't object to the idea of someone keeping watch over the kids, but being excluded from whatever the rest of the units were doing tonight didn't sit right with him. "Sir," he said carefully, "we've been in this from the start. We can help—"
"You've done your part," Sanders said firmly. "And I need your focus elsewhere now."
Snake exhaled heavily, his hands curling into fists before he reluctantly relaxed them. "Understood, sir."
"Good," Sanders said, nodding. "Now go. That's an order."
Viper and Snake exchanged a glance, their frustration of being left out mirrored in each other's eyes. But they knew better than to argue further. With a stiff nod, they turned and began making their way towards the infirmary, their footsteps heavy in the silent night.
Snake made his way down the dimly lit corridor towards Alex's room. As he reached the door, he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath before pushing it open gently, careful not to wake Alex in case he was already asleep.
Inside the room, a faint glow of a bedside lamp was casting long shadows across the walls. Snake's eyes immediately registered that there were two figures in the room instead of the one he had expected. Sam was slumped in a chair beside Alex's bed, his head tilted at an awkward angle as he slept. Alex on the other hand was sitting upright, his eyes sharp and alert despite the weariness etched into his face. His posture was tense, his body ready to spring into action in a moment's notice.
It was clear Alex had been asleep just moments ago—his hair was tousled and the blanket slightly askew. But the way his eyes tracked Snake's movements and the subtle clenching of his fists spoke volumes. He had snapped to alertness the moment the door had opened.
The contrast between the two teens couldn't have been more obvious. Sam, peaceful and unaware, while Alex was instantly guarded and ready for a fight. The sight twisted something deep in Snake's stomach as he stepped inside the room.
"Relax, Cub," Snake said softly, raising his hands in a placating gesture. "It's just me."
Alex's shoulders eased slightly. "Snake," he said, his voice sounding thick and tired. "What's going on?"
Snake turned slightly to close the door behind him. "Colonel's gathered some units. Something's going down, but don't worry about it right now. I'm here to keep you company for a while."
Alex frowned, his gaze flicking towards the door as if he could see through it. "Something's going down? What does that mean?"
"It means nothing that you would need to worry about tonight," Snake said and glanced at Sam who was still fast asleep in the chair, his head lolling to one side. With a small sigh, Snake leaned forward and placed a hand on Sam's shoulder, shaking him gently.
"Hey, Sam," Snake said softly. "Time to wake up."
Sam stirred, blinking groggily as he straightened in the chair. "What? Where…?" he mumbled, rubbing his eyes.
"Go join the others for the night," Snake instructed. "I'll stay here with Cub."
Sam hesitated, his gaze shifting to Alex, who gave him a faint nod. "He's right Sam. Go get some proper sleep."
Reluctantly, Sam stood, stretching with a wince as he worked out the kinks from sleeping in the chair.
"Okay," he said, glancing between Snake and Alex. "Good night then, I suppose."
"Good night," Snake replied sitting down on the chair that Sam had just vacated.
Sam nodded slowly, casting one last glance at Alex before shuffling out of the room, the door clicking softly shut behind him.
Snake turned his attention back to Alex, who was now leaning back against his pillow but was still looking tense. "You look like you're ready to jump out of that bed," Snake observed quietly.
"Force of habit," Alex shrugged.
"Hmmm," Snake hummed, settling into the chair, crossing his arms and leaning back as Alex shifted under the blanket. Alex's eyes remained open, his gaze flicking to the door every so often, as if expecting something—or someone—to burst through. Snake noticed the tension; the way Alex's focus was sharp and his body coiled like a spring.
"Get some rest," Snake said softly. "I'm here. Nothing's getting past me."
"I'll try", Alex muttered.
Snake watched as Alex continued to shift restlessly, adjusting his blanket and pillow again and again. Snake didn't say anything, just leaned back in the chair trying to find comfortable position and hoping that Alex would be able to fall asleep soon.
Alex stopped fidgeting, the movements aggravating his injuries and stared at the ceiling, his mind a whirl of thoughts. The idea of letting his guard down, even for a moment, was still hard for him. But his body was exhausted, his injuries aching, and the weight of the last few days pressed down on him. And there was something about Snake's calm presence that felt steady. Reliable. Safe.
He glanced at Snake, who caught the look and raised an eyebrow. "What?" Snake asked quietly.
"Nothing," Alex murmured, turning his gaze back to the ceiling. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing himself to relax.
Maybe I can sleep, Alex thought, forcing his muscles to release the ever-present tension, and for the first time in what felt like forever, Alex's body began to relax. His mind starting to quiet as he let himself trust that Snake would keep him safe. If even for tonight.
Alex shifted again, his movements becoming slower, less tense. Little by little, his breathing evened out, and his body sank deeper into the mattress. Snake watched as Alex's grip on the blanket loosened, his features softening as sleep began to take hold.
By the time Alex was fully asleep, his face had lost the guarded tension it usually carried. He looked so much younger like this, Snake observed, feeling a wave of relief seeing the kid finally at peace. He leaned back further in the chair, his eyes flicking to the door and then back to Alex.
"I've got you Cub," Snake whispered, and swore that from now on, he would do everything in his power to keep the boy away from harm.
When Alex woke, the first thing he noticed was the absence of the dull ache that usually accompanied a bad night's sleep. He stretched cautiously, wincing slightly at the pull on his ribs, but even that discomfort couldn't diminish the sense of restfulness that filled him. He hadn't had nightmares—at least none he could remember. The pain meds probably helped with that, but Alex couldn't shake the feeling that Snake's presence had played a role too.
He blinked against the morning light filtering through the window and turned his head to see Snake still sitting in the chair, his arms crossed over his chest.
"Morning Cub," Snake smiled at him, looking tired but still alert.
"Morning," Alex replied, his tone lighter than it had been in days. "You stayed the whole night?"
"Orders are orders," Snake said with a faint smirk. "Besides, it looks like you slept well. First time in a while, I'd guess."
"Yeah," Alex admitted and shifted to sit up straighter. "Thanks. For staying."
Snake waved him off. "Don't mention it. I was just doing my job."
But Alex didn't miss the faint warmth in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment that it wasn't just about orders. It was also about looking out for him.
Snake stood up, stretching with a yawn. "So, feeling ready to face the day?"
Alex hesitated, then nodded but before he could reply a soft knock interrupted them and Sarah entered the room.
"Morning," she greeted warmly. "Alex, time for a quick check-up before we start the day okay."
Snake gave Sarah a polite nod. "Right, I think that's my cue," he said, turning to Alex. "I'm gonna leave now. See you later, Cub. Don't give her too much trouble."
"See you," Alex waved as Snake stepped out, closing the door softly behind him.
Sarah was already moving to his side, getting out her stethoscope "How are you feeling this morning?"
"Better," Alex admitted. "Slept well for once."
Sarah gave him an approving nod. "Good to hear. Let's make sure everything's healing as it should."
She worked quickly and methodically, checking his pulse, listening to his breathing, and inspecting the bandages.
"The wounds look clean," Sarah remarked. "I think we can leave most of them uncovered for now and let the air do some good. Just try to avoid bumping them, okay?"
"Got it," Alex confirmed.
Sarah carefully rewrapped the deep cut on his palm, the clean gauze snug, keeping the stitches stable. After finishing with his hand, Sarah moved to disconnect the IV from his arm.
"How's the pain today?" she asked as she withdrew the needle, pressing a cotton ball to the site with gentle pressure.
"It's not so bad," Alex said, taking over to hold the cotton ball himself. Truthfully, the ache in his ribs and foot hadn't eased that much, but it was bearable.
Sarah gave him a skeptical look. "Alright, I'll take your word for it. Now, we need to start getting you up and moving. Staying in bed all day isn't going to help you heal faster."
Alex grimaced but didn't argue. Just as he was trying to gather the energy to start moving out of the bed, Sam bounded into the room, a bright smile plastered on his face. It looked like Alex wasn't the only one who had had a good night's sleep.
"Come on, Alex! You've got to come to breakfast with us," Sam urged full of energy as he reached Alex's bed. "You were holed up in this room the whole day yesterday. Everyone's waiting and they all want to see you."
Alex shot him a wary look. "I don't know, Sam. I'm not sure I'm up for it."
He had managed to avoid facing his classmates' parents the previous day and had hoped to continue his hiding for one more day at least.
But it seemed he was not given that option as Sarah perked up at hearing Sam's suggestion. "Actually, that's an excellent idea. Breakfast in the mess hall sounds like a perfect way to start moving around. It'll give you a chance to stretch your legs."
Alex groaned inwardly. He glanced at his arm, the stitched up, grim looking wound was fully displayed now amongst the deep bruises. Alex brushed softly against the faintly visible stitches on his neck. What a sight he must be. The thought of walking into a crowded mess hall, with all the soldiers and his classmates' parents there, filled him with dread.
"I'm not sure that I…" Alex started to protest again.
Sarah, however, wasn't having it. "Nonsense," she said, disappearing for a moment and returning with a pair of crutches. "You'll do fine. Just take it slow."
Taking a deep breath, Alex clenched his teeth and slowly began to push himself up, his body protesting with a sharp ache as he tried to get out of bed. Every move seemed to set off a dull wave of pain, but he bit it back. Finally, Alex managed to sit straight at the edge of the bed taking a moment to steady himself.
"I really don't feel like it", Alex said trying to weasel his way out of this one more time.
"Come on, you've been through worse than a little walk down the hall", Sam said, trying to sound upbeat but visibly concerned as he watched Alex's struggle.
"Well, you're not wrong. Okay, fine. Alright then", Alex let out a shaky breath as he took hold of the crutches, his knuckles turning white as he gripped them tightly and slowly rose to his feet. His entire body felt heavy, the pain meds making him feel a bit woozy, but he managed to stand. He couldn't lean properly with the hand that had a deep cut across his palm, but he still managed to keep most of his weight off the foot that was bound in cast.
"See?" Sarah said, giving him an encouraging smile. "You're already doing great. I'll be just down this hall if you need anything."
Alex nodded, gritting his teeth as he took a step forward. The crutches took some of the weight off his injured foot, but each movement still sent a jolt of discomfort through him. He felt clumsy and embarrassed, staggering forward with unsteady and uncoordinated steps. Alex just wanted to turn around and crawl back into bed, but Sam was already holding the door open, looking at him expectantly.
"Alright, let's get this over with," Alex muttered, trying to sound casual. Inside, though, his heart was pounding, and he could feel his nerves creeping up as he took another unsteady step towards the door to start his journey to the mess hall.
Alex gritted his teeth as he pushed himself forward leaning on the crutches. Each step jarred his bruised ribs, and the wounds on his side and leg pulsed with a dull ache. But Sam was there, encouraging him forward with an enthusiasm that made Alex's stomach fill with mixed gratitude and dread as they got closer to their destination with each unsteady step.
"Come on, almost there," Sam encouraged, opening the door to the mess hall and holding it so Alex could manoeuvre his way inside.
The noise hit him first: laughter, voices and the clatter of dishes. Alex felt his heart pound as he scanned the crowded room. He noticed multiple faces looking at his direction with curious expressions. Alex swallowed hard and looked at the table where his classmates were sitting accompanied by their parents.
"Ready?" Sam asked, noticing Alex pause.
"Yeah," Alex replied quietly, trying to summon up some semblance of normalcy as they headed towards the table.
The hum of conversation faded as they approached. Heads turned, and his classmates' parents glanced up, taking in his bruises and other injuries with barely disguised concern. He gave a small nod to Henry and forced a half-smile at Ellie, Will, and Liam, who were watching him closely. He noticed their eyes drifting from his face to his neck that had a dark bruise around it accompanied by a grim looking wound. Alex suddenly felt very self-conscious.
Henry stood up, gesturing to the empty seat beside him. "Alex, it is so good to see you up and around. Come, sit."
"Thanks," Alex said, gripping his crutches tightly as he lowered himself into the seat. Sam took the spot beside him, looking pleased as if he'd accomplished some mission of his own. For a moment, Alex was aware of all the gazes fixed on him. He could see it all written on the faces of the adults sitting around the table—the curiosity, the concern, all the burning questions.
"Hey, Alex!" Ellie greeted him from across the table, breaking the silence that had settled around them. "Glad you joined us. We weren't sure you'd come but Sam was sure he could get you here."
Alex looked beside him and saw Sam grinning and looking pleased with himself. The man sitting beside Ellie, his father Alex presumed, leaned forward, his eyes warm with gratitude. "Listen, we know what took place and we can't thank you enough… for everything you did. For keeping them safe."
Alex's chest tightened. "I just… did what I could. We all helped each other out really."
The man gave him a nod. "Still…Thank you." His voice was filled with such gratitude that it almost made Alex squirm in his seat. He wasn't used to getting thanked about his actions and there was still the lingering feel of quilt, like it was his fault that everybody had gotten dragged into this in the first place. Alex swallowed hard and just gave a curt nod before turning his attention to the breakfast.
The conversation slowly resumed around him, his classmates picking up where they'd left off, chatting and laughing about lighter things. And though he had dreaded this moment, sitting here now, surrounded by the normalcy of breakfast and familiar faces, Alex found himself relaxing, just a little, as the attention shifted away from him.
Alex listened the conversations around him but didn't participate. The conversation in their table was kept in everyday things. Alex could feel the curious looks brush over him from time to time but nobody addressed him directly. He was happy about that since topics like family, school and hobbies were not so straight forward, easy conversation themes around him anymore. All of it shadowed by MI6 and their meddling.
Alex glanced up from his plate as the mess hall door swung open again, revealing a familiar figure. Talk, or in this case, think of the devil, Alex though as John Crawley walked into the space, dressed sharply in a suit and looking very much out of place because of it. He was scanning the tables before his gaze settled on their group and he started to approach them. His expression was calm, professional, and entirely too unbothered for Alex's liking.
"Alex," Crawley greeted evenly, nodding in his direction. "Glad to see you up."
Alex felt a wave of irritation. Of all the people from MI6, Crawley was the one he'd least wanted to see—besides Mrs. Jones, of course. "Crawley," he said, a bit of venom leaking into his voice.
Crawley, seemingly unbothered by Alex's tone, continued, "I hope you're feeling better. It's so good to see all of you together, safe and sound," he added, glancing at Alex's classmates and their families who smiled politely to him.
"No thanks to you", Alex muttered and held Crawley's gaze as the man gave him a pointed look after hearing his words.
"Is there… something we can help you with?" Henry asked, sensing the tension between Crawley and Alex.
Crawley clasped his hands behind his back. "Actually, yes. Mrs. Jones has requested a meeting with all of you in the command center in thirty minutes."
Alex's heart sank, his jaw clenching. A meeting with the head of MI6, with the whole group together, just what he'd been hoping to avoid. He felt Sam's curious glance at his side, but he kept his gaze fixed on Crawley.
"Can't it wait?" Alex asked, trying to keep his tone even. He really didn't feel like facing MI6 and military politics early in the morning.
"I'm afraid not, Alex," Crawley replied. "We have important matters to address."
Alex let out a quiet, frustrated sigh, giving Crawley a reluctant nod.
"I'll see you all in the command center, then," Crawley said smoothly before giving a polite nod to the group and walking out, leaving an air of tension in his wake.
Around the table, his classmates exchanged curious glances. Alex met Henry's eyes briefly, catching the concern in his teacher's eyes.
"A meeting with the head of MI6", Liam whispered in awe. "You have to admit, it is kind of cool."
Alex remained silent and took a bite of his toast. Well, they would soon see themselves the ways of working with MI6. And based on Alex's experiences so far it was not cool. Not cool at all.
Rows of chairs were arranged in front of a wide table where Mrs. Jones sat with several neatly stacked folders in front of her. She looked around the group with detached professionalism as she cleared her throat, directing her attention to each person before settling on Alex.
"My name is Jones and I'm the current head of MI6. I want to thank you for joining me this morning," she began reciting lines, that sounded like something she had went through many times before. "I know this has been a tiring time for each of you. First, let me say that MI6 and our partners are grateful for your patience and understanding through these difficult circumstances."
She paused, her gaze shifting to meet each parent's and student's eyes.
"Now, as you may be aware," she continued, "the nature of the events has brought you into contact with sensitive information related to national security. Due to the nature of Alex's background and the threats we face, the need for confidentiality is of utmost importance. This is where the Official Secrets Act comes into play."
She picked up one of the documents on the table and held it out for the group to see.
"This Act is a binding agreement," Mrs. Jones explained, "that you will not disclose any information regarding what you have learned, witnessed, or experienced about Alex or any other MI6 related matters. This is essential, not only for your safety but also for the safety of others involved in ongoing operations. Breaching this confidentiality can have serious consequences."
The room was silent, and the gravity of her words seemed to settle over everyone as they exchanged concerned glances.
Mrs. Jones leaned forward slightly, her expression softening a fracture. "I understand that this may feel like an added burden, especially given the trauma you've already endured. But please know, it's only through absolute confidentiality that we can ensure these kinds of events don't reach beyond those directly involved."
Henry raised his hand hesitantly, drawing her attention. "So… this means we can't speak about any of this with anyone else? Not even our families? or…" Henry glanced at Alex. "The other teachers. I mean… wouldn't it be helpful for Alex if the school was informed about his—circumstances."
Mrs. Jones gave a slow nod. "I understand your concern, but the fact remains that any discussions regarding what happened must be confined to the people in this room or with approved MI6 personnel."
Henry frowned, his uncertainty giving way to determination. "But if we informed only Alex's teachers or even just the headmaster, it could make a significant difference. They'd understand his absences, the struggles with his grades. I've been teaching him for years now, and I've seen how much this has affected his education. Surely, that's worth considering"
Mrs. Jones studied him for a second before answering. "I know your intentions are good. But the more people who know about Alex, the greater the risk to his safety. And I'm sure we can both agree that his safety must come first. These are the compromises we have to make."
Henry's jaw tightened, his voice carefully measured but laced with frustration. "And has anyone asked Alex if he's willing to make those compromises?"
Alex could feel the weight of the room shift towards him, every gaze now fixed on his face. He groaned internally, wishing he could disappear. Staring at the floor, he half-hoped it might open up and swallow him whole, sparing him from the awkwardness of the moment. He didn't want to talk about this in front of everyone, didn't want anyone fighting his battles or becoming further entangled in the mess of his life. As no convenient escape materialized, Alex lifted his gaze reluctantly to meet Henry's worried expression.
"It's fine," Alex said, forcing the words out despite the bitter taste they left in his mouth. "I've managed to catch up on schoolwork before. And Mrs. Jones is right—the fewer people who know, the safer it is for everyone."
Henry's frown deepened, doubt clear in his eyes as he studied Alex. "Are you sure? Because if there's a way to make things easier for you—"
"Mr. Donovan," Mrs. Jones cut in. "Alex has been through this before. He knows what's at stake. I assure you, he is being given the resources he needs to succeed while keeping his safety intact."
Henry hesitated before he exhaled, leaning back slightly. "If you say so," he said reluctantly, his tone tinged with resignation.
"Really, it's fine," Alex repeated with a small smile, trying to reassure his teacher even as a part of him wished he didn't have to. Alex just wanted them to move forward and be done with this meeting. But the conversation wasn't apparently over as Sam's mother leaned forward to put her two cents in.
"I'm sorry," she began, and Alex could hear underlining anger in her voice. "But I can't sit here and not say something. I'm aware that I don't know enough regarding this situation you have going on but I think I've understood enough. And I have to say that the fact that the British government, or at least MI6, is involved with a boy his age… it's terrible. No kid their age should be subjected to anything like this."
Her words hung in the air, heavy and charged and Alex shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his gaze fixed on the floor again.
"I understand your concern," Mrs. Jones said evenly. "The circumstances that led to Alex's involvement with MI6 were the result of decisions made by my predecessor. Those decisions were highly controversial, and there is a reason he is no longer in charge."
Sam's mother narrowed her eyes. "That may be, but it doesn't change the fact that this boy, this child, is still dealing with the consequences of those choices."
"I won't argue that point," Mrs. Jones replied. "And as for what happened here, it was not something we planned. We never intended to put Alex—or any of your children—in danger. Alex's prior association with MI6 is no longer active. He is not involved in any current operations and he had no mission here."
Alex's eyes flicked up briefly, catching Mrs. Jones's carefully chosen words. She wasn't lying, not technically. But she wasn't coming clean either and Alex could hear what went unsaid. Mrs. Jones didn't deny having anything to do with it; what happened in the park or about his involvement with MI6 in the first place. It was true that Blunt had played the larger role, but Mrs. Jones wasn't innocent in all this
Same as with what had happened in the park. It wasn't planned for, just got out of hand, if Mrs. Jones had told him the truth earlier. It was all carefully crafted to be truthful without revealing the full picture. Alex frowned but stayed quiet, irritation simmering just beneath the surface as he silently willed this conversation topic come to an end.
Somehow, hearing the adults talk about him this way, trying to defend him, made him feel…used. Made him feel like a victim. And he couldn't stand it, the idea made his skin crawl. Alex focused on his breathing to block out the discomfort creeping through him.
"It still doesn't sit right with me. He's just a boy," Sam's mother said, lips pressing into a thin line.
"I agree," Mrs. Jones agreed. "And I assure you, my focus moving forward is to ensure Alex's safety and well-being. We are committed to supporting him through his recovery."
There was a beat of silence before Sam's mother leaned back, her expression still troubled but less confrontational. "I hope you mean that."
"I do," Mrs. Jones replied firmly, her gaze flicking briefly to Alex who met her eyes. Alex studied her expression, gouging for hints of deception or fraud in her words. But she wasn't the head of MI6 for nothing. Alex couldn't say if she truly meant what she said or just wanted to ease the minds of the adults in the room.
The silence was broken by Liam's mother, who shifted uncomfortably, looking towards her son and then back to Mrs. Jones. "What about counseling? If any of the children need support after this—and I'm sure they will—how does that work under the Official Secrets Act?"
"We've taken that into account," Mrs. Jones replied smoothly. "MI6 has cleared professionals available to provide psychological support such as Dr. Whitmore that you've already met. We'll be arranging follow-up care in London to ensure that each of you, especially the children, has access to the resources you need. These individuals will also be bound by the Act, so confidentiality will be maintained."
Her explanation seemed to ease some of the tension in the room and Mrs. Jones turned to gesture to the folders in front of her. "Now then, I'd like each of you to review and sign this document. If you have any further questions, I'm here to answer them. Once signed, this legally binds you to the confidentiality I've outlined."
Slowly, the adults took the folders handed to them by Crawley, who had been standing by quietly, and began reading through the documents. Mrs. Jones waited patiently, watching as each family member, children and parents, signed their own agreements. Once completed, she gathered the documents and gave a firm nod of approval.
"Thank you," she said with a note of finality before taking a small breath, preparing to continue.
"Now, I understand that what I'm about to say may be difficult to accept," she began. "However, it is imperative that we maintain a consistent narrative about what happened. The story we've prepared is as follows: During your navigation exercise your group got lost due to the bad weather. During this time, Alex sustained an injury while attempting rock climbing in the storm. This will explain any visible injuries when you return to school."
Henry's expression turned incredulous as his previous irritation raised its head. "Alex went to rock climbing? In a storm? That's… well, that's just. How can you expect us to pass that off as the truth? As if we would get lost because of a weather when we had Viper with us or we would let anyone go climbing in the bad weather that supposedly got us lost in the first place. That's just ridiculous."
Sam nodded, joining in on the conversation eyes flashing. "Nobody's going to believe we just got lost and Alex had an accident. It doesn't even make sense."
Will, sitting beside Sam, looked bewildered. "Yeah, especially since Alex looks—well, he looks—not like he had just some climbing accident."
"We can state that Alex went to climb without your permission and got hurt. Because of this and the bad weather, you got lost and it took you some time to find help and get out of the woods", Mrs. Jones raised her hand, silencing the growing arguments. "I understand your concerns. But we must maintain this story to protect everyone involved. Anything else risks compromising the safety of each of you—and Alex."
Alex, who had been sitting quietly again, looked up with a detached expression. "It's fine," he said sounding resigned. "So, the story goes like this. I wanted to go climbing, didn't listen when I was told it was not allowed, got us all lost and hurt myself. Got it."
The room fell silent, each classmate glancing at him with a mix of hurt and sympathy. Sam shook his head.
"That's not right", he said sounding furious. "I refuse to say that you got injured because of something like that. You saved us all Alex. I can't go to school and say that something was your fault when that's not true or that you got hurt because of your own actions. It's not fair. If we say that everyone's going to blame you about having to leave here and…No. It's not fair."
"And my point stays", Will butted in. "One look at you and nobody is going to believe that you ended up looking like that because of a rock-climbing accident. No way."
Alex shrugged slightly. "Well, nobody ever believes the cover stories anyway."
And that effectively quieted them all as they grimaced. It was true after all. Alex's absences and his excuses of 'being sick' had been the topic of rumours for quite some time. Rumours, that some of them had been involved with creating and spreading. Will felt heat creep up his cheeks and neck as he tried to swallow down the embarrassment that Alex's words had gouged up.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "Right."
Ellie frowned. "But… Alex, they're going to ask questions. And you shouldn't have to lie about something like this."
"I've done it before", Alex said looking at his classmates. "And you have to understand, the truth is something that can't be told to anyone outside this room. I mean it. When they ask questions just stick to the story. They'll give up after some time. They always do."
Will shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "And… when we go back, we just act like everything's normal?" he asked looking at Alex.
"Yes," Alex said quietly, a hint of resignation in his tone. "That's the best way to keep everyone safe. If we start behaving differently, people are going to suspect something and only going to ask more questions. The story has to be consistent."
Will's shoulders slumped and he couldn't quite meet Alex's eyes. "I don't… I don't want to go back to how things were before. It doesn't feel right after everything." His voice wavered, and he struggled to find the words. "After all, you...And I was..."
"It's okay, Will. I get it. We all just need to keep things as normal as we can. That's how this works," Alex's voice was steady and there was a strange calm in his words, as if he had already come to terms with this.
Mrs. Jones watched the exchange. "I realize this is a lot to ask. But maintaining this cover story ensures that none of you, nor your families, are exposed to further risks. I trust you will all do what's necessary."
Sam shook his head again, exhaling slowly, and looked over at Alex, who gave him a small nod of reassurance. They all knew there was no real choice here, but it still felt wrong.
Mrs. Jones took in the room, glancing from each parent to each student. As there were no more arguments about the previous topic she moved onto the next subject on her list. "Now that that's settled, we can talk about your stay in here. You'll be free to leave the camp already today. We are arranging transportation to London for you. It shouldn't take too long."
Alex's face remained impassive as he looked at Mrs. Jones.
"And what about me?" he asked. "Do I get to leave with them?"
Mrs. Jones met his gaze steadily. "You have the option to stay here in the camp until you're stronger, or we can arrange for you to continue your recovery at St. Dominic's."
Alex has a stubborn line forming in his jaw. "I'd rather go home. I can manage follow-ups at St. Dominic's, but I'm not staying there."
Mrs. Jones looked him sternly. "Alex, you've been through a lot, and you are still in the early stages of healing. I'm not comfortable with the idea of you staying on your own until you've had a bit more time to recover. You're allowed to go home when your guardians arrive and the doctors deem you healthy enough. Not before that."
Alex opened his mouth to argue but Mrs. Jones, sensing his displeasure, stopped him before the argument even left his mouth. "The camp or St. Dominic's Alex. Those are your choices."
Alex huffed and glared at Mrs. Jones. "Fine", he said, still pouting. "I want to go to London."
"St. Dominics then", Mrs. Jones nodded to him. She let the silence grow briefly before closing the folder in front of her, marking the end of the meeting.
She stood and addressed the room. "Thank you all for your time. I trust you'll follow everything we've discussed. We'll inform you when the transportation is ready for you to get back to London. If there are further questions, I'm available to answer them later."
The students and their parents began to rise from their seats, the scrape of chairs filling the room as quiet murmurs spread among the group. Henry offered Alex a sympathetic look but said nothing as he joined the others and headed towards the door.
Alex stayed seated for a moment longer, gripping the edge of the chair tightly. He wasn't eager to face anyone just yet, not with the mix of emotions swirling inside him. His classmates had already been asked to keep secrets they didn't want to, and now they were leaving with their families while he was stuck, once again under Mrs. Jones' watchful eye, not allowed to go home.
As the last parent exited the room, Sam hesitated by the door, glancing back at Alex. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
Alex forced a small smile. "Yeah. Just a bit tired. Go on. I'll catch up later."
Sam looked unconvinced but gave a reluctant nod before stepping out. Alex waited until the sound of their voices faded down the hallway before exhaling deeply, rising to his feet with the help of his crutches and started the slow journey back into his room.
The infirmary was quiet when Alex returned. He lowered himself onto the bed, his body aching from the tension of the meeting and his injuries.
He stared at the wall for a long moment, letting the quiet wash over him. It was both a relief and a curse, giving him space to think—something he wasn't sure he wanted right now.
Today, his classmates would leave with their families, and he would be going to St. Dominics. Alone. Again.
The thought made him feel hollow. But at least he would be in London, not stuck in Wales. He dragged his hand across his face. For now, all he could do was focus on getting through the next few days.
Liam, Ellie, Will and Sam sat together on a grassy patch outside, the crisp air filling their lungs as they took in the quiet moment, the open space feeling like a gift. The sun's warmth brushing against their faces and a soft breeze tickling their hair.
For a while, none of them spoke, simply reveling in the freedom to breathe, to think, to exist without immediate danger or crippling fear. In the distance, they could hear the voices caused by the camp activity, a reminder of where they were. But right now, sitting outside in each other's company, it felt like they could escape the weight of all that had happened, if only for a moment.
There were no parents hovering over them, no soldiers bustling around, no counselors trying to pry into their minds. The adults were busy with practicalities, tying to coordinate their return to normal life.
Sam leaned back on his hands, closing his eyes briefly as he let the sunlight wash over him. "I will never take fresh air as granted again, I can tell you that," he murmured.
Ellie, sitting cross-legged nearby, smiled faintly. "Yeah. It's nice to just… be outside again. No walls, no bars. Just this." She gestured vaguely at their surroundings.
Will stretched his legs out in front of him, staring at the horizon. "It's weird," he said quietly. "Going back home, back to school. Trying to pretend as if this never happened."
Liam, lying flat on his back with his arms crossed behind his head, let out a sigh. "I know. But it all kind of feels also so distant now you know. Like a bad dream."
The group lapsed into silence again, each lost in their own thoughts.
Sam shifted as the quiet moment gave way for the thoughts occupying his mind. "I still can't believe we have to go along with that stupid cover story," he muttered, picking up a stick from the ground. "Alex doesn't deserve that."
Will nodded in agreement. "Tell me about it. It's so messed up. He saved all of us, and now we have to tell everyone that he's the one who got us lost? It's complete garbage."
Sam's grip on the stick tightened as he stabbed it to the ground. "It's bullshit, is what it is."
Liam furrowed his brow as he looked at the sky above him. "I know. It's not fair. But I don't think we have a choice. They made it pretty clear that this is just how it is."
"I hate it too," Ellie admitted. "But what can we do? We just have to act like nothing's changed, try to make things look as they were before."
Will hesitated, his gaze drifting to his hands. "I don't know how to go back to treating Alex like… like I used to." His voice grew quieter, almost ashamed. "He saved my life, our lives. I can't just go back to being a jerk to him."
Sam looked at his friend. "You don't have to, you know. We can keep things normal without treating him like crap."
Will shook his head. "I don't think it's that simple. If we don't go back to how things were, people will start asking questions. Especially with the lie about him messing everything up regarding this trip. If we just ignore something like that it will raise suspicions." He exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. "This sucks."
Before anyone could respond they noticed a figure approaching them. Crawley was walking across the yard looking straight at the group of students.
"There you are. I wanted to inform you that your transportation back to London will soon be ready and you should join your parents now," Crawley said, stopping a few feet away.
Liam sat up looking at Crawley. "What about Alex? Is he coming with us?"
Crawley shook his head. "Alex will travel separately later. He's needed here a little longer."
Sam stood without hesitation. "I want to see him before we leave."
"You may, just remember that we're on a schedule," Crawley pointed out. But Sam was already stepping away, giving a sharp nod. He glanced back at the others. "Go on, I'll catch up with you guys later."
"Don't worry, we'll come get you when we have to leave," Ellie assured him. "Take your time."
"Thanks," Sam smiled and waved as he turned around and headed to the already too familiar building to meet Alex before they had to leave.
The door to Alex's room creaked open and Alex glanced over, half expecting to see Sarah with another round of checks or perhaps Ben or one of the soldiers stopping by again. But it was Sam who stepped inside his room, closing the door behind him. He stood by the doorway looking around the room until meeting Alex's eyes.
"Hey," Sam greeted. "Mind if I sit with you for a bit?"
Alex shifted slightly to make space on the bed. "Sure."
Sam sat down beside him with a sigh. "We're leaving soon."
Alex nodded, his gaze dropping back to the blanket on his lap. "Yeah. I figured."
The thought of his classmates leaving filled Alex with a surprising sense of sadness. Here, in the camp, Alex didn't have to pretend, and his classmate didn't have to worry about any cover stories or keeping his secrets. But all of that would change once they were back in London. Back in school. Alex wasn't sure he was ready for it.
Sam must have caught something in his expression because he offered Alex a reassuring smile. "You know, I wish you didn't have to go to St. Dominic's alone. It doesn't seem right. After everything…" Sam trailed off, his words hanging in the air.
Alex shrugged, forcing a nonchalant tone. "Well, what can you do? Besides, I'll manage. It's fine."
Sam leaned back, staring at the ceiling for a moment before speaking again. "You'll let us know when you're there? I mean, I know we'll have to keep up the whole cover story and not be seen with you in the hospital, but…I think we could still visit right?"
"Sure, you can visit and I'll let you know. Would be nice to have some company," Alex said feeling a little more at ease with the idea that he wouldn't have to spend all his hours in the hospital alone.
Sam nodded and smiled faintly at him, but Alex could see tension in his posture. Sam wasn't looking directly at him, his fingers fidgeting with the edge of his sleeve. Alex waited, not daring to push, trusting that whatever was on Sam's mind would surface eventually.
Finally, Sam exhaled and looked up at Alex. "There's… something I need to talk with you," he began hesitantly.
Alex nodded, feeling weight behind Sam's words. "Go ahead."
Sam hesitated again, glancing around the room as if the right words would come to him from its corners. "How do you do it?" he suddenly blurted out.
"Do what?" Alex asked confused.
"Go back to normal," Sam clarified. "After everything you've been through… How do you just… keep going? Pretend like nothing happened? Because I don't know how to do that."
"Well, it's not easy," Alex admitted. "And it's not really about pretending nothing happened. It's more about… finding a way to keep moving forward, even when everything feels wrong. You focus on what's in front of you, and you don't think too much about the rest. At least, that's what I've done.""
Sam nodded slowly, but his brow furrowed as he leaned forward. "I still feel trapped," he confessed. "Like, sometimes, in my mind, I'm convinced I'm still back there. It all...it just keeps playing in my head, over and over."
Alex swallowed hard, his own memories threatening to surface. "That doesn't go away overnight. It takes time. And sometimes, you can't do it alone. Talking to someone helps. Even if it's just a little."
Sam looked at Alex, his expression conflicted. "You mean like a counselor?"
"Maybe," Alex shrugged meeting Sam's gaze, "or a friend."
Alex hesitated, his stomach twisting. It was now his turn to scramble around for words, to find a way to say what he really needed to say before the others would leave the camp.
"Sam," Alex began, his voice low and hesitant. "There's…also something I need to say."
"What is it?" Sam asked.
Alex gripped the blanket, his knuckles whitening. He didn't want to bring this up—not now. But he had to. Sam deserved to hear it.
"Back there, with Petrov and Quinn..." Alex started slowly. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry I made you a part of that."
Sam's face paled visibly at his words, and he couldn't hide how the way he flinched as though the words had physically struck him. Alex's chest tightened at the sight. He couldn't help but to feel that it was his fault that Sam had to carry this burden on his conscience.
"I didn't have a choice. You weren't supposed to be in that space with me," Alex continued, his voice shaking slightly. "I tried to think of another way. And I—" He stopped, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "And I know I dragged you into it. I didn't want to and I regret that. More than I can say."
For a moment, Sam didn't speak. His eyes darted around, and Alex could see the tension in his jaw, the way his hands gripped his knees. Finally, Sam exhaled shakily. "I've… been seeing it," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "In my dreams. Over and over."
Alex's heart sank, guilt crashing over him like a suffocating wave. "I'm so sorry, Sam. I—"
Sam shook his head. "I know you're sorry but like you said, there was no other way. You saved us all Alex and I guess…If that choice had been on my shoulders…" Sam's voice drifted into silence as his expression sifted to one full of consideration.
They sat in silence for a while. Alex not knowing what to say and Sam deep in his own thought.
"Have you done it before?" Sam broke the silence after a while, his voice quiet. "Killed someone, I mean."
Alex froze, the question making him feel like a bucket full of ice water had been dumped into his gut. His first instinct was to deflect, to protect Sam from knowing the full truth. But then he thought about what they'd been through. How he had made Sam accomplish in killing two people. If anyone deserved honesty in this matter, it was Sam. But it was hard, so hard, to face his classmate and admit it.
"Yes," Alex whispered, blinking rapidly, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I have."
"How do you deal with it? With the…quilt?" Sam asked slowly, turning to look at Alex.
"I don't know," Alex admitted quietly. "I don't think I've figured that out yet."
"It's... always there," Alex continued, his voice a bit shaky as he turned to look at the door, avoiding Sam's eyes. "It's like this weight that never really goes away. Some days it's lighter, and I can ignore it. Other days... it's all I can think about." He paused, his fingers clenching as if fighting against the pressing memories. "I try to remind myself that I did what I had to do. That there wasn't another choice. But it doesn't always help."
Sam nodded slowly, considering his words. "Does it ever... get better?"
Alex shrugged, his gaze still distant. "Sometimes. But then something happens, and it all comes back. The memories, the what-ifs, the... faces." He swallowed hard, his voice growing quieter. "You just... learn to live with it. You have to. Because if you don't, it'll eat you alive."
The room grew heavy with unspoken words, the kind that lingered and pressed down like a weight on Alex's chest.
"Could you... tell me about it?" Sam asked quietly looking at Alex.
Alex's mind raced, caught between wanting to share and the fear of burdening Sam even more. "I don't know, Sam," he sighed. "I don't want to put all of that on you. You've already been through enough."
Sam shook his head. "We've both been through it, Alex. And... I keep thinking about what happened. It's like it's stuck in my head, and I can't get it out. Maybe if we talk, it won't feel so... heavy."
Alex looked away, his throat tightening and heart hammering in his chest. He could feel the emotions welling up, threatening to break through the fragile barrier he'd built to keep them in check. His mind began to churn, unbidden, with images and memories—faces of people who were dead because of him, who's death he had caused with his actions.
Hugo Greif, Damian Cray, Julia Rothman, Desmond McCain…Julius, Petrov, Quinn—Walker. There were so many, some were people whose names he didn't even know, had never heard. Alex felt like throwing up. The memories pressed down on him, making it hard to breathe. His chest tightened, and he tried to keep his hands from shaking.
"Alex?" Sam's voice was soft, tentative. He reached out, placing a hand gently on Alex's arm. The touch broke through the swirling storm in Alex's mind, grounding him just enough to pull him back to the present.
Sam's eyes were filled with concern. "You don't have to tell me," he said. "But I'm here. And maybe... maybe it could help. Both of us."
Alex swallowed hard, his jaw working as he fought to keep his composure. He glanced at Sam, seeing the genuine care and understanding in his expression.
The room seemed to grow quieter, as Alex stared at Sam, wondering. Sam had seen him at his worst, had been there when he'd done the unspeakable, and yet still looked at him with something other than fear or disgust. Alex had killed two people right in front of him. And Sam had been involved, dragged into the horror of it all. Yet here he was, offering understanding, offering to listen.
Maybe Sam could handle it, Alex thought. Maybe he wouldn't turn away, wouldn't see Alex as something monstrous once he knew the full truth.
Alex's fingers tightened into fists as he fought the wave of self-loathing that always came with thinking about the world he'd been forced into. He swallowed hard, his gaze dropping for a moment before he met Sam's eyes again.
"You don't know what you're asking," Alex warned. "It's not going to be a nice story. It's... ugly. I've done some bad things."
Sam didn't flinch. He nodded keeping gaze steady and calm. "I know," he said simply. "But I still want to hear it. If you're ready to tell me."
Alex hesitated for a moment longer, then gave a small, reluctant nod. "Okay, but don't say I didn't warn you."
Sam leaned back slightly, giving Alex the space he needed while still keeping close. "I'm here," he said quietly.
Alex took a deep breath, steadying himself, and started to speak.