Chapter Text
Alexander's mission in life had always been to make something of himself. And now, he had his shot.
His father had left when he was two years old, and hadn’t bothered to send so much as a birthday card now and then. Worse, every few years the alimony payments would stop and Alexander had to watch his mother stress over court dates and making ends meet. His mother, who worked multiple minimum-wage jobs to keep them afloat, always said that her son would achieve great things someday with that brilliant mind of his.
In his darker moments, he feared that he wouldn't; that somehow his father had known he was good for nothing, and that was why he left. Irrational as the thought was, and as much as he didn't care for the opinion of a bum like his father, it would still come to haunt him at night.
He studied each school subject with fervor, devouring every source of knowledge he could get his hands on. Because there was no telling which piece of information may come in handy someday. His teachers adored him, and he relished in their approval.
In the wake of the increasing pace of discovery of the 21st century, he opted for a career in science. In his usual bout of rotten luck, it was mere weeks after his Master's thesis defense that The War started.
The government was quick to shut down its borders in the wake of reports saying that the enemy was employing a biological weapon the likes of which hadn't been seen before. No one was allowed in, to minimize contagion, or out, because "a national emergency of this scale means it's all our citizens' duty to stay and contribute to the resolution of the crisis". Points were raised about totalitarianism, freedom, and fascist regimes, then were debated and shot down mercilessly. As if the government wanted to prove its opposition right, internet service was soon disabled across the country.
The following riots were met with brutal violence.
Alexander traded letters with his university contacts, at least the ones he could locate. He hadn’t seen John Laurens in too long, his best friend stuck in his hometown on the other side of the country. The whole situation was quickly escalating, and a number of his acquaintances had heard of unmarked vans collecting experts on various fields of science in the middle of the night. And the accounts of these events were far too consistent to discard them as ‘just rumors’...
Although he would hardly put himself in the same category as his professors and other influential names in the field, Alexander kept a duffel bag packed. Just in case.
The ‘just in case bag’ came in handy one cold October night, when they came for him. Even if his insomnia hadn't been keeping him up until 2 am, he would have woken to the sound of a van door slamming shut right outside his apartment. Jumping into action, he slung the duffel on his shoulder and dropped a pre-drafted letter on the desk - there was no easy way he could say goodbye had his mother been awake. The men in black, rather stereotypical examples of their kind, were just a few feet away from the door when he opened it. They stopped and eyed him warily, clearly expecting a fight. Alexander swallowed down his anxiety, heart pounding in his chest, and tightened his handhold on the duffel.
Then he calmly walked straight past them.
"You two comin' or what?", he threw back with faked bravado, and hopped into the vehicle.
This was his shot. He was not throwing it away.