Chapter Text
All things considered, Brendan Chase wasn’t especially cruel to Alex; compared to her last stint as his captive, she could almost say she was treated well. Most of her time was spent alone in her room.
The only event of note happened about a week after her physical with Three. Brendan brought her to his room about once a day, but that day in particular, he chose to take her in her own room.
Alex did a fine job at distancing herself from her body whenever Chase raped her; unfortunately, her absence of mind that day was her undoing. Perhaps if she had paid more attention to the mattress - and her gadgets stashed inside - she would have been able to prevent the blush and lipstick from becoming dislodged and rolling out of the small opening left in the mattress.
The sound of the gadgets hitting the floor and rolling was deafening to Alex, and Chase heard it too. Without a moment of thought, he pulled out and jumped off the bed. Even Cleopatra was fumbling for a way out of the situation as Brendan Chase slowly picked up and investigated the items; even if he didn’t immediately identify them, there was no doubt in Alex’s mind that he knew they were gadgets. Her only saving grace was the fact that the matchbook and notepad were flat and stashed deeper within the mattress; they hadn’t been discovered.
“Alex, ” Chase said in a slow, low voice, “Mind telling me what these are?”
She clenched her jaw and stayed silent. The punishment would come either way. As he approached her on the bed, she flinched away.
“I’m not surprised, love. I knew you were behaving too well.” He chuckled and roughly grabbed her hair to bring her face up to his level.
At least he wasn’t exactly mad, Alex thought.
“I am just happy I can finally show you the Box,” He said with too much glee.
As it turned out, Alex would have preferred Brendan Chase to be angry and irrational as opposed to his more calculating self.
The growl of her stomach seemed to echo throughout the small room. Alex could hardly remember a time when she wasn’t so hungry and cold and dehydrated and sweaty. Everytime she closed her eyes, the room would fill with all sorts of alarms and sirens and noises. Alex could’ve swore she had spent longer than 40 hours in that hell-Box. Perhaps the worst part of her torment was the happiness she felt when Brendan opened the door and pulled her back into the world.
Knowing the manipulation tactics did little to stop her from feeling gratitude to her captor; frankly, she didn’t care if it meant she could leave the tiny steel prison. Besides, any possible Stockholm syndrome she was developing wouldn’t last long if all went to plan.
With a grip on her bicep, Brendan pulled her through the halls while she stumbled to keep up with her injured leg. They reached his room, and she carefully averted her gaze when he lifted her onto the bed and stood in front of her.
“Well?” He asked.
It took a bit for her head to stabilize over her shoulders, but she didn’t miss a beat once her world righted. With no small amount of effort, Alex wrapped herself around Brendan’s midsection, “I’m sorry. So sorry,” she repeated between sobs and gasps. “Please don’t put me back there. I’ll do anything.” The act was Cleopatra’s, but that didn’t mean all the other parts of Alex didn’t believe every word she said.
“Truly, love? I can promise to never again put you in the Box, even when you upset me, but I have a couple conditions. How about you call me Brendan? No more ‘Chase’ or ‘asshole’ or ‘dickhead’,” He tested.
“Okay… Brendan,” The name felt strange and sour on her tongue.
“And you’ll no longer wear clothes. Even outside of either of our rooms.” Brendan said.
“Okay,” Cleopatra knew better than to hesitate, and Alex was far too scared to say anything else.
A lot could be said about Brendan Chase, but no one could claim he didn’t get results.
Alex Rider wasn’t sure what inspired her to escape the day she did. Perhaps something in her snapped or perhaps her gut told her it was time; she chose to believe that it was because Cleopatra was finally ready to come back out. She made her move exactly one week after her release from the Box; that room terrified her more than she was willing to admit.
She sat huddled in the corner of her room - she was always cold and Brendan took away her blankets - and she waited until after her lunch was delivered by the guard; if she wasn’t called on during lunch, then she wouldn’t be called on until dinner. She moved over to the mattress and with shaky hands undid the seam once more on her mattress. After the first incident, she went to great lengths to ensure nothing larger than her pinky could fall out.
As soon as her hand grasped the matches and notebook, she steadied and Cleopatra took the lead; Chase may have her locked up naked in a Scorpia mansion, but she was the one with the incendiaries.
When a guard entered her room hours later to take her to Chase, she had the items gripped in the palm of her hand. When she got to his room, and he led her to the bed, she slid them under the side of the mattress furthest from the door. And when he reached his completion and took a few moments to catch his breath, she got up under the guise of wiping herself off and palmed the explosives. With her back towards Brendan, she removed a single match from the book.
Finally, Brendan noticed her suspicious behavior, “Alex?”
She struck the match and turned back towards him. Brendan froze when he saw the look in her eyes; how had she never realized how scared he was of her? With the unhurried movements of a woman with nothing to lose, she placed the rest of the matches and the notebook on his chest. At last, she dropped the lit match on top and ducked.
Then she lost consciousness.
Fire rained down from the sky, and funnily enough, Alex found the sight both comforting and familiar. She thought back to ages ago, when an oil drum exploded and covered her in scars; it may have hurt her, but she had gotten to see Jack afterwards. Maybe she’d get to see Jack once more.
Finally allowed free roam around the mansion complex, Alex left the body behind in the hangar as she wandered down the halls. Distantly, she knew she had to leave, but the growing inferno around her did nothing to thaw the cold ache within. Has she always felt so cold? Numbly, she remembered her lack of clothes. Ever since she was released from the box, Brendan refused her any sort of cover; as she struggled to remember what it was to fall asleep and wake up and live warm and unafraid, she found herself back in front of Brendan's room.
No. Not Brendan’s. He was dead.
Holy shit. Brendan Chase was dead.
She pushed the door open and entered the room with the enthusiasm of someone who had just finished a busy shift and was ready for sleep. No one could stop her; even the fire had yet to find the room. Maybe she could squeeze a nap in, Alex thought.
She sat on the bed, only noticing the pain from her leg after she took her weight off of it. She kicked her feet onto the bed and eagerly pulled the blankets to cover her. The warmth bathed her in a way she had long missed. The warmth reminded her of Jaxon’s island - Alex was never so cold on the island.
She must need a nap, she thought after a wave of faintness passed over her. With a contented sigh, she closed her eyes and snuggled further into the warm blankets.
When she heard the door open, she was torn between feigning sleep and checking to see who dared disturb her. Then a hand firmly grabbed her shoulder, and she reacted on instinct. Before her eyes had opened, the owner of the hand was already fighting to stay upright beside the bed.
“Alex,” an oddly familiar voice whispered urgently.
She had to rub her eyes before she could believe them. Even then, she could only sit up on the bed and stare.
“Yes,” he said in response to her unasked question. “It’s me.” After Alex failed to react, he tried again, “Come back to me, Alex.”
“Yassen, you’re here?”
“We just went over this, Little One,” he said in subdued exasperation, “We don’t have much time.”
“Why? Brendan’s dead.”
The concern in Yassen’s face was the most emotion he had ever shown Alex. She was surprised that she didn’t feel the need to flinch when he gently grasped her chin and turned her head back and forth to examine her face and eyes. “The complex is on fire, Alex. Are you able to walk? We need to get out.”
“You’re awfully calm to be standing in a burning building,” Alex observed. To answer Yassen’s question she planted her feet on the floor and immediately fell as she tried to stand. “Nope,” she said with mild amusement.
“Let me carry you,” Yassen said; Alex watched curiously as he pulled off his jacket and led her mostly limp arms into sleeves. He zipped up the oversized jacket once it had been situated around her, and she would’ve felt embarrassed if she were more self aware.
He hoisted her up, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn’t realize her world was spinning until Yassen held her steady. He was warm, and he smelled like soap and smoke. “Yas?” She spoke up.
“Yes?” He began the task of escaping the burning building.
“Are you here to take me away?”
“A little late for you to ask,” Yassen commented, “But yes. I’ll get you to safety, Sashenka. Just hold tight.”
“You saw him, right?” She asked after a few more moments.
“Who?” Yassen inquired with mild interest - or concern.
“Brendan. He’s dead, isn’t he?”
“Brendan Chase is dead,” He confirmed. “I saw his body on my way in.”
“I killed him before, but it wasn’t him,” the small girl in his arms tried to explain.
“Okay, Alex.” Yassen didn’t bother trying to follow up - he’d get nothing from her with her current state.
The next time Alex awoke, she was riding in the passenger seat of a car. Aside from the seatbelt, she was unrestrained; unless, of course, the door was locked. Sluggishly, she moved her arm to grasp the handle of the door.
“ Alex! ” The driver of the car yelled at her as he yanked her away from the door by grabbing her other arm. “ Stop doing that. ”
“Yass-?” She began to question just as all her memories flooded back - far too fast. “Wait. I kill- You save- Stop? Stop what?”
He released her arm. “Stop trying to open the door; we’re going over 130 km an hour. You have been doing that for the past 15 minutes.”
“Oh. Sorry,” She said without sincerity. Wiping the tiredness out of her eyes, she tried to process her life. “Where are we? How long have I been out?” It was almost too dark outside to see the road.
“We’re half an hour away from Munich.” Yassen checked his watch. “You’ve been asleep for 10 hours now.”
“What happens when we get to Munich?”
“I have some friends that can fly us to Lithuania.”
“Why Lithuania?”
“I have a property there. It’s very isolated and peaceful.”
Alex turned to scrutinize Yassen. She was never good at reading the man, but at that moment he looked almost sheepish.
“I figured you’d need some time to recover after your ordeal; however, we can part ways in Munich if you’d prefer.”
“Lithuania sounds nice right now. I don’t think I’ve ever been.”
For kilometers, they drove in silence. As the lights of the city began to show in the distance, Alex stiffened ever so slightly. If Yassen weren’t Yassen, he wouldn’t have noticed; he glanced her way.
“What is it, Little One?”
“I- uh. I need the morning after pill. And-” Her voice shook as she spoke. “And a test. To see if I’m…”
“Of course. I can pick them up in Munich. Are you hungry?”
Alex hesitated to answer - she had no appetite, but her body needed food.
“Do you remember the last time you ate?”
She shook her head.
“I’ll pick up some fruit and crackers. Water?” He held out a bottle of water which Alex slowly accepted.
Instead of drinking, she looked searchingly at Yassen.
“If I wanted to drug you, Alex, you’d still be asleep.”
After taking a few sips of water, Alex found her voice once more. “I thought you were dead.”
“Good. That means my efforts at hiding were successful.”
“I dug into your past - even cashed in a favor for more information just in case Blunt was lying to me again.”
“Find anything interesting?”
“Asking so you can tie up any remaining loose ends?”
“Can’t a man be curious?”
“Your curiosity is dangerous.”
“The same is said about you. You changed the subject.”
“I’d be lucky to learn the brand of clothes you wear,” Alex laughed, “You’re practically untraceable… Yasha.”
“Impressive, Sashenka. You might be the first to call me that since I was a child. How’d you find that one out?”
“I don’t think it’d be a good idea to reveal my sources.”
“Right again, Little One.” His smile faded; his expression turned bittersweet, “You’ve changed quite a bit.”
Alex snorted, “Is that your way of saying I’m smarter now.”
“Not smarter exactly. More restrained. Less cheeky.”
“For better or for worse?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Does this mean you’ve come out of hiding?”
“Yes.”
“Did you do that for me?”
It was Yassen’s turn to examine her. “I did.”
“Why?”
“Because you were captured and needed help.”
“Why do you care? And why did you only do it now?”
“I’ve always cared, Alex. I am sorry it took so long for me to find you. I was living off the grid, so to speak, and I didn’t know you were in trouble until recently. Last I heard, you were safely tucked away with the Pleasures in the States.”
“The plan was to stay that way. I guess the world had other ideas,” Alex sighed.
“Are you planning to go back to MI6?”
“Haven’t decided yet. I might if leadership changes. Are you going to go back into hiding?”
“Maybe. I don’t have the same advantage I did before; it’ll spread quickly that I’m not dead.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was my decision. Your safety is more important than my privacy.”
“Because of my father?”
“Because of you.”