A/N: Sorry for the delay, this week was pretty busy. It's a bit shorter than usual, but I felt it got to a good stopping point. Enjoy
Chapter 2
Alex made his way towards his cabin, still thinking about what the Sergeant had said. Without knowing quite how he got there, he found himself standing outside his cabin door. He walked in, automatically taking in every detail of the room, and sat down on the bed. I'd like to send some of my men there if that's how they all turn out, was what the Sergeant had said. But how exactly had Alex turned out? Who was he? A superspy with a 100% record? A hero? Or was he actually something a lot more sinister? A cold-blooded murderer whispered a voice inside his head, and Alex could not deny it. How many people had he killed, people who had their own families who would mourn their deaths? Was Alex even human anymore, or had his blank emotionless mask taken over his mind, so that he could no longer feel? After all, just yesterday his entire foster family had been killed, and Alex had not shed a single tear for them.
Suddenly there was a great pain in his chest, and before he knew it, he was sobbing into his pillow, his body heaving with suppressed emotion. He cried for Edward and Liz, who had taken him in when there was no one else for him to turn to, who had treated him like their own son despite the danger he brought with him. They had paid for their generosity with their lives. He cried for Sabina, who had held him in her arms that first night, when he had woken up from a nightmare to an unfamiliar house. She had shown him how to live again, even though her friends mocked her for hanging out with someone two years younger. She had made him laugh for the first time since Jack's death. Now she had been taken away from him too.
Eventually his sobs subsided, and Alex wiped his eyes before looking at his watch. He was surprised to see that it was already lunchtime, and even though he was not particularly hungry he got up and started making his way to the mess hall. On the way there, he carefully reconstructed his blank mask until only his slightly puffy eyes left any indication of the emotional turmoil he had been in just minutes ago. As he entered and made his way over to the queue, he heard the whispers of the soldiers starting up around him. It's just like school again, thought Alex wryly. He patiently waited for his turn to receive the slop that they called food, before moving to the emptiest corner of the room to eat his meal in silence. Having quickly forced the meal down, he got up, put away his tray and left. The entire time, he didn't make eye contact with a single person.
Returning to his cabin, Alex decided to settle himself in and familiarise himself with what he was supposed to do. The cabin was slightly smaller than the one he had shared with K Unit, and contained a bed and a small bedside cabinet on one side and a desk on the other. Alex noticed that next to his bed was a black duffel bag, which he had seen the first time he came in but, in his haze of thoughts, hadn't registered. At least MI6 had had the decency to replace some of my things, he thought. Starting to unpack, Alex found two sets of standard military kit, some underwear, a towel and a bag of toiletries. Not a single piece of civilian clothing in sight. Typical bloody MI6 thought Alex angrily. Picking up the empty bag in frustration, Alex suddenly realised something. The supposedly empty bag was heavier than it should be. Closely examining the lining, he found a loose thread and pulled hard, resulting in the bottom of the bag splitting open to reveal another hidden compartment. Inside, there was a package with a note attached:
Dear Alex,
I'm sorry to hear about the deaths of the Pleasures, especially after what happened to Jack. I thought you might need something to remind you of civilisation whilst you're at BB, so I did some rooting around on the computer and found these. Hope you appreciate them.
Yours,
Smithers
Alex smiled sadly, glad to know that at least Smithers still cared about him. Opening the package, Alex found a simple silver three-picture photo frame, with a picture of his parents holding him as a baby on the left, a picture of him as a ten-year-old with Jack and Ian in the middle, and a recent picture of him with the Pleasures on the right. Silently thanking Smithers, Alex carefully placed the photo frame on his bedside table.
Sighing, he turned away from the happy images to look at the folders lined up neatly on the shelf above his desk. Each folder contained a record of a unit's shooting scores from their weekly lessons, as well as any extra notes. Alex spent the afternoon carefully reading about each member of each unit, taking note of their strengths and weaknesses. He also found a large file containing the learning requirements for SAS training, and spent a good few hours devising lesson plans for the coming weeks. Eventually he finished, and Alex went to bed with a feeling of accomplishment and a faint hopefulness for the future.