Chapter Text
Alex felt the bite of the knife that was pressed against his throat. It was snug enough that the simple act of swallowing caused the edge to press against his skin.
Alex should be afraid, instead he felt alive in a way he had never felt before. Every second around him seemed to slow down. He could feel his sweat start to bead on his brow, feel the goosebumps creep up his arms, and feel his heart thumping in his chest in a quick rhythm.
The man’s right hand was holding onto the knife. Alex could just see the gloved fingers, long and delicate out of the lower edge of his vision.
The man’s other hand, however, was firmly pressed against his stomach. Just forceful enough that it was both a way to keep Alex steady, and a warning not to move.
Alex felt a warmth start in his core and travel outward.
Alex knew this was not how he was supposed to feel when someone held a knife to his throat.
“Alex.” The man said, his voice was smooth and velvety like honey. His name was spoken so simple, too familiar for a stranger. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?” Alex replied. His brain felt like it was moving through fog. He tried to figure out what the man was referring to. But, the haze twisted and distorted everything. Alex settled on an answer, “I had too. I had no choice.”
The man hummed. And, Alex could feel the vibrations from the man's chest travel through him.
“There is always a choice.” The man spoke, his words were broad and wise. It was as if he could pick apart the very being of Alex and piece it back together to see if Alex was telling the truth. To see if Alex really had a choice.
In the haze of a memory, Alex’s brain latched on to a distant thought.
“She knows,”Alex started to say quickly. It was important to say and he had to say it before he forgot. His mouth was dry, and he struggled to get the words out, “I told her about you. She- she gave me orders. If I was to ever see you again… she wants me to kill you-”
“Sush.” The man interrupted, quieting him with a whisper. “This is not about that.”
“Then what is this about?” Alex countered.
“It's about you, Alex.” He said, the grip on the knife softened. It no longer dug into Alex’s skin. “It’s always been about you.”
“In what way?” Alex asked, for a second he was feeling weightlessness, almost like he was floating in the sea.
“In whatever way you want it.” The man said, moving his lips towards Alex’s ear, as the hand on Alex drifted lower.
Then, the alarm clock went off.
In an instant, the dream shattered and in its place stood reality. Alex lay blinking at the ceiling, hearing the sound bounce around in his ears as his heartbeat fluttered.
His face was flushed, and he felt an uncomfortable tightness in his gut. This was not how he was expecting to wake up.He felt some strange desire, mixed with fear and excitement. He just knew that dream would stay in his mind rent free for the next week.
Alex groaned, throwing a hand over his face, and using the other hand to slam down on the snooze of the alarm clock. He knew without looking that it was 6 in the morning.
His normal routine consisted of going for a five kilometer run around the perimeter of the estate, and then spending another half an hour working out targeted muscle groups.
It was a morning routine that was drilled into him since his childhood, and then expanded once he was training on Malagosto.
Now, he focused on a less rigorous but still active enough exercise plan.
Although the morning run normally helped to clear his head, Alex did not think running would help clear his mind from this latest dream. One day without it was not going to suddenly make him inadequate.
He stood up and shuffled himself over to the bathroom. He was lucky that his quarters came with an attached bathroom. It saved him the embarrassment of having to walk down the hallway to use the designated bathroom in the staff dormitory.
He flipped on the shower. Once it was the right temperature he stepped inside. He just wanted to take a shower and forget about the dream. So that he could finally move on with his day.
Instead, his mind kept returning to the dream, and the MI6 Agent.
There was something… about Yassen Gregorovich. No matter what Alex did he could not get the man out of his head. It was intoxicating, even hypnotizing. It drew Alex in and refused to let go.
Maybe… Alex had developed a slight crush on him. Something inside of him told him that it was not normal to crush on someone you only meet once. Especially not of the person who once held a knife to your throat.
It was about a year and a half ago that he first met Yassen.
The real incident was nothing at all like the dream that Alex had.
A year and half ago:
Alex knew he was being followed. The man had been trailing him and Tom for the past hour. Alex did not want Tom to get hurt so he sent him back to the hotel.
Alex then purposefully walked into an ally with the goal of being able to quickly and discreetly subdue his stalker.
Except, Yassen was quicker. Yassen managed to grab Alex, wrapping his arms around him and pulling the knife to his throat in a matter of seconds.
At the time, Alex had no idea who Yassen was. Alex saw the way Yassen moved, his quick yet delicate movements that were taught and praised on Malagosto.
Alex had at first assumed that Yassen was a student sent after him. It was a game the teachers sometimes played. Release the students in the city and have them hunt each other down. The goal was for both teams to avoid capture from the other, and the other to capture. It was like capture the flag, but if it was more realistic.
“Why did you kill him?” Yassen had asked him, the knife dug into his throat. Even without knowing who Yassen was, Alex could tell Yassen was trained on how to use it. There was no mistaking that he was a killer. The knife was held at the right place, with the right angle, for a clean kill.
Alex was not that scared. If Yassen had wanted Alex dead, Alex already would be.Yassen had proven that when he got the upper hand. Instead there was a reason Alex was still unharmed. It gave both of them time. Alex just had to be persistent and look for an opening to escape.
“You got to be more specific…”Alex responded cheeky, “I’ve killed lots of people.”
“Ian.” The name was spoken like a hiss. Like it was painful for the man to say out loud.
“Who?” Alex replied generally confused. The name seemed vaguely familiar, but did not bring a person to mind. “Look, bud, I don’t know who your talking about-”
In retaliation, Yassen’s knee jabbed into the back of Alex’s leg. The action teetered Alex off his center of gravity. The only thing stopping Alex from falling was the steady hand of the man behind him.
“The man you killed in London. Do you even know who he was?”
Alex’s mind fluttered back, first to the house, the gunshot and finally the burning photograph. He hated thinking about it, because the moment he did he felt guilt and grief consume his whole being.
Alex did not even want to give Yassen the satisfaction of an answer. He did anyway.
“He was my father’s murder.”
“W-what?” Yassen responded confused, his grip lessened suddenly, as if that answer was not at all what he was expecting.
Alex reacted quickly taking advantage of the opportunity. Three things happened at once; firstly, With his left arm, Alex pulled his elbow back and jammed it into Yassen’s ribs. He heard an audible crack.
Secondly, with his right hand, he wrapped it around the man's wrist. With a push he forced the knife outward and away from him at a diagonal angle.
Thirdly, Alex twisted his body around to move away, but the moment he did so the sharpened blade cut the soft skin under his chin.
Alex, now free, stumbled backwards. His hand moved to the stinging pain, and came away covered in blood.
He looked up, and made eye contact with Yassen for a second. Both of them were hurt and winded.
Then, Alex turned around and ran away.