Chapter Text
Alex’s eyes were watering, his hair whipping in the wind and everything around him blurring as he sped downhill as fast as he could. The early morning wind was biting his face, but he kept his focus sharp not to lose his balance as the skateboard jumped over another little crack on the asphalt.
Alex’s mind worked furiously as he tried to come up with a plan to apprehend the men he was chasing. The two figures on bikes pedalled furiously, getting smaller and threatening to disappear behind another corner any second now. They weren’t aware that they had been spotted, that someone was chasing them.
The hill came to an end, the street started levelling and Alex crouched lower to keep his momentum. He weaved around a rusty bike rack to turn a corner. He went through the map of the city in his mind. He had been here for weeks now, and the layout of this part of the town was etched into his brain to the last detail.
Alex made a fast decision and kicked hard to gain more speed. He passed a blinking crosswalk and cut left, grabbing a lamp post, wheels shrieking as he hooked into an alleyway. It was tight and grimy, scattered with broken glass and trash bins. One wrong turn and he’d be eating concrete. But it would cut the corner. He should be able to get ahead of his targets.
The skateboard brushed an empty metal can, sending it clattering across the hard ground, the voice echoing around the walls. Alex hissed and narrowed his eyes. “Come on now…”
The alley spat him out with barely a meter to spare as a car had to hit the brakes to avoid hitting him. There was a sound of tires screeching and a crunch of metal-on-metal as another car slammed into the rear bumper, unable to stop in time. The man behind the wheel of the first car looked startled by the sudden appearance of a teenager in his path. As Alex met his eye, his face turned furious, he blasted the car horn and started shouting, the actual words never reaching Alex’s ears from inside the car but he could make a guess that they were not anything nice.
Alex tried to look sheepish and appropriate amount of spooked as he waved his hand in apology before kicking more speed to get away from the wreck. As he got a better view past the two tangled cars, he could already see that his plan had worked. The cars had created a blockage at the intersection, forcing the men he was chasing to direct their route down to a smaller street – a street that Alex knew – led to an underpass that was blocked due to construction.
Alex took deep breaths, trying to calm his beating heart. He stayed low, one foot dragging lightly on the pavement to slow his speed. The underpass was only a few blocks ahead. Alex saw the two men disappear into the darkness of the tunnel and he stopped the board, kicked it from the ground and placed it on the grass beside the sidewalk. There would be no need for it anymore.
He moved silently now, keeping his steps feather-light, checking the surroundings. There were temporary construction signs, some big tools waiting for the early workers to arrive but lying abandoned for now. There were no cameras and only one way in and one way out. Perfect.
Alex stepped into the dark tunnel, keeping himself near the walls that were tagged with old graffiti. He could see the two figures that had come to a stop before a metal chain and concrete blocks that had been set up to prevent any passersby from entering further.
“Seriously?” one of the men was saying. His voice echoed slightly under the bridge.
“Told you we should’ve cut across the lot,” the other snapped. “Whatever. It doesn’t matter. No one saw or followed us. We’re good. Let’s just turn around and find another route.”
Alex kept his distance, hiding in the shadows to get a better look at the pair and make an assessment before taking any action. They both stepped off their bikes, starting to turn around. Their hoods were still up, and backpacks hung loose over their shoulders. Both had a firm hold on the handlebars of their bikes. They seemed fit and athletic but lacked the grace Alex had gotten used to seeing on a trained and experienced fighters.
He made a judgment and stepped forward, letting gravel crunch under his foot.
Both heads snapped towards him.
“Get lost, kid!” The taller one said instantly, having a threatening tone in his voice.
“Yeah,” the other added. “I thought little kids like yourself should be in bed by now. Don’t you have a curfew?”
Alex just shrugged and kept walking a little closer. “Probably. But I couldn’t just let you go now, could I? You left quite a mess behind you.”
Alex caught the alarm in their eyes. The shorter one cursed under his breath.
“You stupid kid,” the tall one growled. “Picking a fight with us. Who do you think you are, the police? You’re going to regret not minding your own business.”
The man dropped his bike and reached into his backpack. Alex saw a flash of silver and his instincts kicked in immediately. He ducked to the side, keeping his head low and his vital areas covered.
There was a sharp hiss, scent of chemicals, and the feel of something wet covering his arm.
Alex looked at his sleeve that was now covered in dark red. There was chemical mist in the air, hitting his eyes and making them water. Alex coughed and lost his focus for a fraction of a second. He could hear the other bike also hitting the ground and took a defensive position.
But it was a critical moment too late. He was still a bit unbalanced, blinking rapidly to clear the water from his eyes when he saw the first strike approaching. He managed to block the punch by grabbing the man’s arm and he twisted it to get his opponent to lose his footing. But the second man was already on him and his punch caught Alex square across the cheek before he could fully duck. He lost his hold of the other guy and staggered back, vision blurring.
Before he was able to reorient himself, the follow-up strike came fast—and landed hard.
He could feel the resounding crack as much as he could hear it.
Pain detonated in his face as the man’s fist connected with his nose. Alex reeled backward, blood pouring down over his lip. His head was spinning, and eyes watering more from the sudden shock and pain.
His knees buckled for a second, but he didn’t fall.
Instead, he gritted his teeth as the taste of iron filled his mouth and used the motion of his stumble to pivot. He managed to dodge another wild swing and grabbed the nearest guy’s hoodie in both fists. He yanked him forward and rammed his knee into his stomach. The man let out a guttural grunt and folded over, gasping.
Alex shoved him aside just in time to see the other guy charging at him. Blood was running freely from Alex’s nose now, hot and sticky, but his focus was laser-sharp, his instincts clear due to the adrenaline running through his veins, familiar and intoxicating.
Alex ducked the tackle aimed at him and twisted his body to the side, letting the attacker’s own momentum carry him forward. As the man stumbled past, Alex delivered a sharp elbow to the back of his neck. He crashed face-first into the ground, still holding the metallic can in his hand.
Alex stepped on the man’s upper back, keeping him down as he took the can full of red spray paint to himself.
“Thanks,” Alex grinned at the enraged man and reached down to pinch the pressure point in the guy’s neck. The man had a look of confusion flash through his face before losing consciousness, his body going slack under Alex’s feet.
Suddenly he felt someone grabbing his jacket. The other man seemed to have gotten his breath under control again and was yanking Alex hard away from his fallen friend. Alex tensed his muscles, spun forcefully on the man’s hold, lifted the spray can, and jammed the nozzle straight into the attacker’s face.
The man shrieked, stumbling backward, clawing at his eyes and tripping over his own bike. He went down hard, whining in pain and shock. But Alex didn’t stop. He stepped forward, kicked the bike out of the way, and slammed his foot down into the attacker, knocking the air out of him again. Finally, the man went limp.
Alex let the spray can drop to the ground with a clank and looked around him. Blood was dripping steadily from his nose onto the pavement. He wiped it with the back of his hand and winced. “Brilliant.”
There was red paint everywhere, on the ground, on the walls, smeared across the other guy’s face like a mask, and still dripping wet from Alex’s own sleeve, mixing with the blood he had wiped from his face.
“Just brilliant,” Alex muttered, his voice coming out thickly and nasally.
He looked at the two men again, making sure neither was getting up, and finally pulled out his phone.
It was time to make a call.
A clock was ticking steadily in the corner, being the only sound in the room. Alex sat slumped in a hard plastic chair that felt like it had been designed specifically to punish anyone who used it. His hoodie was drawn up and the crumpled tissue under his still-bleeding nose wasn’t doing much to staunch the blood. He felt his nose throbbing in sync with his heartbeat.
Across the cheap metal desk, Joe Byrne looked like he’d rather be anywhere else. They were tucked into the corner of the local precinct station, in an office borrowed from an overworked sergeant.
Byrne tapped a pen against a folder. He had been staring at Alex in silence since getting here, looking alert and focused, but small signs betrayed him and the fact that he had probably been woken up from sleep way earlier than he would have wanted. His shirt was a bit crumpled, like it was snatched and put on in a hurry, and there was the smallest drop of coffee stained on the label of his jacket.
The silence stretched as they stared at each other, Byrne searching for the words and Alex cataloguing the deputy director of the CIA. The pinch on his mouth, restless tapping, wrinkles in the corner of his eyes…
“So,” Byrne finally began, breaking the silence. “You’ve been in San Francisco...what? A month and a half now?”
“Five weeks and three days,” Alex said automatically. He had been counting.
Byrne exhaled through his nose and rubbed his temples like he was trying to ward off a migraine. “Right. My mistake. In five weeks and three days, you’ve been detained eight times. And those are just the official ones that the local cops bothered to report.”
Alex shifted in the chair. “Come on, I wasn’t detained every time. Once they just asked me to sit in the back of the car while they verified my ID.”
“Oh, well, thank you for the clarification.” Byrne leaned back and dropped the pen. “Seven detentions then. And you know as well as I do that that ID was fake. You were wandering around in a restricted area. If they had looked more closely or used their brain a fraction more, they would have known that there was no way a teenager would have access to that part of the piers. You would have been arrested. So, eight times.”
Alex opened his mouth to retort, but Byrne held up his hand. “I don’t want to hear it, Alex. Add in the incidents I personally had to clean up, and we’re into the double digits.”
Alex didn’t answer. He crossed his arms and they glared at each other across the table.
Byrne opened the file in front of him with exaggerated movements and started to read. “Theft, assault, property damage, careless driving—”
“It was a skateboard!” Alex protested.
“Still, you ended up causing a collision and endangering traffic,” Byrne looked at him sternly. “And it was a stolen skateboard, may I add.” He pointed at a line on the document in front of him. “Theft.”
Alex huffed and broke the eye contact to glare at the wall instead. This was not the first talking down he had gotten and, in his mind, Byrne always managed to make everything sound worse than it actually had been.
“We have gone over this a thousand times, Alex,” Byrne continued, sounding resigned. “You see something suspicious or illegal, you call the police. You don’t need to—no, you are not allowed to—investigate this stuff on your own or go around chasing people.”
“I did try to call the police,” Alex muttered.
“After you had already attacked the two men,” Byrne exclaimed with frustration. “That is not what I mean, and you know it!”
Alex stayed quiet, refusing to meet Byrne’s eyes, so the man continued. “Do you know how this looks? A man calls the police after someone rear-ended him, reporting a teenager skating around recklessly, and as the police were led to the scene in the underpass by the noise of confrontation, they find you next to two unconscious men. Red paint everywhere. You are lucky I know you and believe your version of the story. Otherwise, the reports received from the other parties involved would have deemed you very guilty for everything listed here. This would lead to a substantial number of fines or even jail time with the assault charges.”
“Well, I am guilty,” Alex shrugged, finally meeting the man’s eyes.
“Don’t tempt me, Alex,” Byrne warned. After a while, something softened in his expression as he looked at the teen sitting across from him. He let out a deep sigh. “I thought you wanted out of this. Wasn’t that part of the reason you moved to the States? To get distance between you and MI6 so you wouldn’t need to put yourself in danger anymore. You are being reckless, and you are going to get yourself hurt.”
Just as he said this, the tissue Alex held under his nose had become so drenched that the blood started to run down his hand as the paper was not able to absorb anymore of it. Byrne handed him another tissue and Alex grabbed it, tossing the dirty one to the bin next to them.
“Thanks,” Alex said quietly and held back a wince as he placed the clean tissue against his face.
“That was the agreement, wasn’t it?” Byrne continued. “You’d come here, stay with the Pleasures, and focus on catching up with school. Work with a therapist. Try to have some kind of normal life. That was what you wanted.”
“It is what I want. I am trying,” Alex said, but knew that he didn’t sound convincing.
Byrne narrowed his eyes. “Really? Because the Pleasures seem to think you’re working all that out with me. And I was under the impression you were handling that with them. Care to explain that little piece of miscommunication?”
Alex hesitated. “I thought I could manage it. I didn’t want anyone watching over my shoulder.”
Byrne let out a short, humourless laugh and rubbed his face with both hands. “So, you’re playing both sides and hoping no one compares notes. Very smart. Very mature. You are fifteen. You are supposed to have someone looking out for you.”
“I didn’t mean—” Alex started, but was cut off again.
“You don’t get to play it both ways, Alex. If you don’t want to be part of this world anymore, then you have to stay out of it.”
Alex took a deep breath.
“I don’t know how not to,” he finally confessed.
That stopped Byrne for a moment.
Alex looked down, feeling like it would be easier to explain when he didn’t have to see the man’s worried expression. “I’m trying. I am. But I can’t sleep. I can’t sit still. I feel like I’m crawling out of my skin most days. But when I’m doing something, it’s like the only time I can think. Like Jack isn’t dead, like I’m not stuck pretending I belong in some normal life that makes no sense anymore.”
Byrne didn’t speak for a while. When he did, his voice was softer. “I get it. I do. But this? What you’re doing, all the fights and this recklessness…I can’t allow it to continue.”
There was a pause as Byrne leaned forward, clasping his hands together in front of him and waiting for Alex to meet his eyes. As Alex lifted his gaze, Byrne continued. “I’ve given it some thought, and I’ve come up with a plan.”
That statement made Alex hesitate as he wondered what the man had come up with this time. Would he be sent to another mission? A small, tiniest part of Alex, that he had forbidden from himself, trying to bury as deep as he could, felt unhealthy excitement about the idea. But only for a fraction of a second before the reality and dread settled in. He swallowed hard and waited for the judgement.
“I know you don’t want any intelligence agency watching over you or controlling you, and I can understand why,” Byrne began slowly. “But I have decided that I will need to keep a closer eye on you. And that means to have you physically close too, where we can actually see you.”
“You’re taking me to Langley?” Alex asked, defeated.
“No, of course not,” Byrne waved a hand. “I would not want to take you away from the Pleasures as we all want you to settle in with them. And did you honestly think that I’m travelling here all the way from Virginia each time you manage to get yourself in trouble? I’ve been stationed in San Fransico almost since your arrival.”
Alex felt waves of guilt and embarrassment wash over him. He hadn’t stopped to think about what it meant that Byrne was there, in person, each time he had to be bailed out of the consequences of his actions. Alex felt his cheeks heat up as the realization dawned on him. Byrne obviously noticed his discomfort and looked a bit smug over it. Bastard.
“Sorry,” Alex muttered. “So, where have you been staying?”
“Don’t worry about it. I assigned myself to be the one to see that you settle here. Didn’t think it would be quite so busy task, to be honest, but I hope we are able to prevent you from spiralling further and thus allow me keep the rest of my hair before losing all of it to the stress,” Byrne gave him a smile and Alex felt himself relax a bit.
“As to your question, we have a small, temporary placement in the city. It’s mostly operations tech unit for now, keeping us close to Silicon Valley. We got people like analysts, programmers, data miners, and such working there. I expect you to come there,” Byrne said. “Every weekday, starting tomorrow. Until school starts or we come up with something better. There is no field work or assignments for you. You’re not working for us. I want to be clear on that. But you’ll be there. In the building. Around people who can keep an eye on you.”
Alex blinked. “What, like I’m being babysat?”
“Exactly.”
“I don’t want a babysitter,” Alex declared.
“Well, now you’ve got one anyway,” Byrne stated matter-of-factly. “You can thank yourself for that.”
Alex scowled, but he couldn’t deny that. “So, what am I supposed to do there? Just sit around all day. If I’m not working for you.”
“You’ll do what you were supposed to do for this past month and a half—”
“Five weeks and three days.”
“—your schoolwork. You’ll notice you won’t be able to slide through the cracks anymore as I’ll contact the Pleasures and we’ll work out your enrolment to school for the autumn semester and request learning materials for you to catch up on,” Byrne finished looking pleased with himself.
It was a solid plan, Alex could admit. Except for a couple of minor issues.
“Won’t the team wonder why there’s a teenager lurking in their department? And isn’t the stuff they’re working with classified?”
Byrne gave a noncommittal shrug. “Some of it’s restricted. Some’s open. But your clearance is high enough for everything. Because you’re now technically a U.S. citizen, there’s nothing stopping us from adjusting your authorizations in MI6 to fit CIA. They haven’t formally closed your file in Britain anyway.”
That made Alex’s stomach twist. “So, I’m still on the books?”
“Somewhere in the foggy basement of Vauxhall, yes. But they are not able to assign any missions to you without our approval. As I said, you are a U.S citizen now and that means you are under our jurisdiction too.”
The knot in Alex’s stomach eased lightly. He still didn’t trust himself to be totally safe, even if MI6 needed permission from the CIA to use him, but it did bring some peace of mind.
“Alright, but you didn’t answer my other question,” Alex continued to challenge. “Won’t they wonder why I’m there? What if they start to dig?”
“Oh, I’m counting on them trying,” Byrne nodded, seemingly unbothered. “They’re curious by nature. That’s part of why they’re good at what they do. I guess we’ll find out just how good your Mr. Smithers really is, won’t we?”
Alex frowned. “You’re putting Smithers' work to the test?”
“Call me curious”, Byrne shrugged. “He is one of the best there is. Built most of your firewall personally, as I’ve understood it. Let’s see how long it takes a team of the Agency’s best to hit a wall.”
“You’re using me as a test case,” Alex accused.
“True,” Byrne stated without a beat, standing up. “But this is the best solution to keep you out of more trouble. If you didn’t want anything to do with us, you should have stayed out. I gave more than enough chances. You start tomorrow morning at seven-thirty. I’ll send you the address. Meet me at the main sub-level, Cyber Operations Division.”
Byrne picked up the folder from the table, made his way across the room, and knocked on the door a couple of times. It opened almost immediately. A young officer was standing in the hallway and peeked into the room. Byrne gave the folder to him and turned to look at Alex.
“Pleasures have been informed where they can come to collect you. You’ll wait for them here. See you tomorrow, Alex. Don’t be late.” With that, Byrne exited the room. The door closed behind him.
“Your guardian is here.”
That was all the interaction Alex got in the precinct after Joe had left. He was led outside where the familiar car was waiting beside the sidewalk. Alex approached the vehicle and opened the door.
Edward Pleasure didn’t say a word as Alex slid into the passenger seat of the Prius. The car door shut with a quiet click, and Edward pulled away from the curb. He merged into traffic, his grip on the steering wheel a little too tight.
Alex didn’t look at him. He kept his eyes fixed on the window, watching the city blur past. The blood had stopped running from his nose, but he was well aware that his current appearance was not helping with the situation he had found himself in. He still had one sleeve covered with the red paint, and there was dried blood in his collar, hands, and face. His skin felt itchy.
They were halfway down the block before Edward spoke.
“You didn’t call,” he said, his voice tight with suppressed anger. “We got woken up by the police. Again.”
Alex flinched. “I meant to. I just...didn’t get the chance. Byrne came there and they didn’t allow me to call anyone. And he got it handled. There was no need to bother you.”
Edward sighed. “That’s not the point, Alex. We are your guardians.”
“I know,” Alex said, finally turning to look at him. “I’m sorry.”
“I wish I could believe you. But you say that every time you get arrested, then a couple of days go by and here we are again,” Edward said, keeping his eyes on the road.
“I wasn’t arrested.”
“Detained, then,” Edward’s jaw clenched. “Do you really think this is sustainable?”
“Not you too,” Alex snapped. He was tired and in pain and didn’t have the energy to listen to this again. “I already went this through with Byrne. I don’t need another lecture.”
“Yes, you do!” Edward’s tone was harsh. Alex tried to get his annoyance under control. It wouldn’t do any good to escalate the situation; Edward had never sounded so angry before.
“Fine then, I know it was stupid. You don’t need to worry though, Byrne has it under control. We have an arrangement,” Alex said, forcing his tone to be even.
“You’ve been saying that for over a month now. And all I see is the situation escalating. I’m sorry Alex, but for now, I can’t trust your word for it.” The man’s words cut deep like a knife.
Alex clenched his fists in his lap and took a deep breath. “But this time, there really is an arrangement. Byrne’s going to call you. He said he’d explain everything. He wants me at the CIA’s temporary base, under supervision. It’s sorted.”
Edward hummed, clearly not convinced, and Alex felt deep shame and regret. As he always did after causing all this trouble to so many people. Each time swearing to himself not to do it again. And then failing. Spectacularly.
Silence settled between them, uncomfortable and heavy, before being broken by Edward, who now had a tinge of worry in his voice. “Do you need that checked out?”
Alex didn’t need the man to elaborate on what he meant. His nose had already started to visibly bruise on top of being almost covered with dried blood.
Alex shook his head, ignoring the throbbing caused by the movement. “No. It’s fine.”
“I thought coming here would help you,” Edward said, turning the wheel. “A fresh start. Out of MI6’s reach. Just you, Sabina, and us, a quiet place to breathe.”
Alex didn’t answer. He looked out the window. The city was slowly waking up as the morning progressed. Lights were turning on in apartment windows, joggers were running on the sidewalk, and a garbage truck was growling in the distance. And all of it felt too ordinary for him. It was too slow.
The digital numbers of the clock on the car’s dashboard turned to 7.30. Alex felt like the whole day should have passed by now. It couldn’t have been just a few hours since he woke up and managed to screw everything up again.
“I know why you did it,” Edward said eventually as they got closer to their destination.
Alex hesitated, then said, “Then you get it. I couldn’t let them get away with it.”
“I do get it. But still, you cannot do this again,” Edward cut in firmly. “You don’t get involved. I’m a journalist. I knew what I was getting into when I started publishing those articles. Especially with the current political climate. This is part of the job now. People don’t like to be challenged. They lash out.”
“That doesn’t mean I just let it happen.”
“Yes. It does,” Edward said sharply, finally turning to look at him as they came to a stop at a red light before their street. “Because it’s not your place. You’re not a spy or a soldier anymore. You don’t have to protect anyone. You let the adults handle it.”
Before Alex could form a reply, Edward turned the corner onto their street. The house came into view and both of them fell silent.
The front wall and driveway were covered in crude, hateful slurs and threats with violent symbols and grotesque drawings. The red paint bled across the white walls and garage door like an open wound.
Edward parked without a word, his knuckles white on the steering wheel.
Alex swallowed hard, his throat tight as he read all the hateful words painted on the walls. All the threats aimed at Pleasures. “They deserved worse than what I gave them.”
“Go inside, Alex,” Edward sighed. ”We’ll talk more after Byrne calls.”
Alex lingered a second longer, staring at the mess of red paint and the raw proof of what had driven him to act this morning. Then he got out of the car and headed for the door, the sharp chemical stench of spray paint following him all the way. Behind him, Edward remained in the car, staring at the damage in silence.
Joe Byrne had arrived in his office to see a file placed on his desk. He set his coffee down, extra strong today for being woken up at what felt like in the middle of the night, and pulled out his chair. He flipped the file open and frowned.
It was a police report about property damage. Byrne looked at the information about the reporting party: Edward Pleasure. He let out a deep sigh. Ever since arriving in San Fransico and learning about Alex’s regular brush-ups with the law, he had demanded to be informed about anything regarding Alex or the Pleasures.
Joe picked up his coffee and browsed through the file. There was not much information. Suspected time of the vandalism, early that morning, two suspects who were already in custody. No details about how they were detained. No surprise there as Joe had personally seen it kept away from official reports.
There were high-resolution photographs attached to the file, printed directly from the responding officer’s report. Byrne’s eyes scanned each one in silence and then exhaled slowly, leaning back in his chair.
So that was what Alex had seen. That’s what he’d chased those two idiots for. He had assumed it was just another adrenaline-soaked stunt, a rush of action to quiet the storm in the boy’s head. Hell, he hadn’t even asked. Alex had been behaving in such a way lately that he had figured the kid saw someone tagging a random building and decided it was a good enough excuse for a skateboarding pursuit.
Byrne flipped the folder shut.
He hoped that his plan to keep Alex close and on a tight leash for a while would work.
Because if the boy kept up his current path, there would come a point where Joe wouldn’t be able to help him anymore.
He wished it didn’t come to that.
Joe took a sip of his coffee and decided to call the Pleasures right away.
Better to get it over with as soon as possible.