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“You go burn them to the ground, but make sure you come home – you’ve got a lot to come home to.”
Doesn’t he know it.
“I’m coming home, I promise.” He takes a deep breath and feels all of a sudden utterly exhausted.
“Right, I’m just going to…” he trails off as his eyes dart to the closed door of the living room.
“Mmhmmm.” Jack gives him a knowing look.
“What?”
“Just don’t stay up too late – sounds like you’ve got a big day tomorrow.”
“I won’t. In case you can’t tell I’m completely wiped. I just want to… y’know, say hi or something.”
Or something…
Jack’s still giving him a knowing look, the hint of a smirk on her lips. She pulls him into a hug and he feels himself sink against her, drawing comfort from the solid embrace.
“Night Jack.”
“Night Alex.”
.
He knocks on the living room door softly, in case Kyra really is sleeping, and, hearing her ‘hello?’ he slips inside, closing the door firmly behind him. She’s sat cross-legged on the sofa, back propped against the armrest, duvet tucked around her and computer open on her lap. He leans against the door watching her, feeling a goofy smile spread over his face before he can stop it.
He likes that she’s waited up for him. He likes having her here. He likes having her to come home to.
She snaps the laptop shut and the sound breaks him from his reverie. “Is it over?”
He sighs. He’s not looking forward to telling her. “Not exactly…”
The ghost of their kiss, of everything they’d left unsaid, hangs between them and he wants to tell her what’s happened but is suddenly scared to.
The moment of fear breaks when she reaches for him – she always was braver than him – stretching her hand towards him, and he goes for it, moving from his place against the door as if he’s a magnet drawn to her presence.
He sits on the edge of the sofa, unwilling to let go of her hand, and their fingers curl around each other, one hand exploring the contours of the other as he thinks.
“He… it was a set up…”
And he tells her everything.
The bar fight. The prison sentence. Scorpia’s approach. The undercover mission. His dad becoming… becoming one of them. The letters he’d seen from his dad to Julia Rothmann. Yassen. The relationship they’d had. And then… his voice cracks and he almost can’t continue. Him. Alex. Because his mother was pregnant with him and his dad wanted out and so they set it up and when Scorpia found out about the double bluff they… they had killed his parents. What was it Alan Blunt had said about his father – “he chose you”. Oh God.
Kyra is quiet, allowing him to process, and suddenly he realises that it’s the first time he’s finally, finally actually processing it – the truth. The real truth.
“My dad, he… wanted out. Because of us. My mum and… me.”
He shudders slightly.
“But they never got a chance to be a family. Not properly. And I never got a chance to have parents because Scorpia took that from us.”
Her hand is gripping his more tightly now and he’s suddenly aware she’s spent a long time coming to terms with her parents’ death, what Scorpia took from her, and the feeling that she is responsible for it all.
“Sorry,” he mutters. Cross with himself, but also oddly glad that she of all people will understand. She’s felt these things before. Guilt. Blame. Anger. A need for revenge.
He meets her gaze over their linked hands because he needs someone to keep him grounded and safe if he’s going to be equipped to deal with Scorpia tomorrow. Today? God… He’s so tired.
“You said that your father wrote letters to her, to the Widow... Do you think she loved him?” Kyra asks.
He has wondered. Is this why Mrs Rothmann wanted him to be part of Scorpia?
“Yeah. Yeah I do.”
“Do you think… is she trying to punish you?” her voice shakes now.
Yeah, he does. But he won't tell her that.
“I don’t know … All I know is that, despite… everything. He, my father I mean, was…” his voice cracks again but he doesn’t mind so much because it’s just him and Kyra and he trusts Kyra entirely. “He was… good.”
“Yeah.” She’s rubbing her thumb over and around his and he finds it oddly soothing.
“And my mum… I guess she was just collateral damage when they decided to kill my dad.”
He sniffs and is surprised to find that a tear has run down his cheek. “She… she was a hero too.”
Kyra hums in response.
“I hate that.” He brushes the tear away furiously. “I hate that they had to be heroes. Why couldn’t they just be parents?”
Her fingers explore his, encouraging him on.
“And but for a twist of fate I’d be dead too.”
Her hand is firm against his, their fingers intertwined, and it’s the only thing keeping him sane.
“I’m glad you’re not.”
He finally lifts his head to look at her and she’s serious Kyra now – giving that contemplative look she gets that’s more often than not pointed at him in worry.
He gives her a half smile. “Me too.”
Her fingers continue to rub his and it’s all he can do not to lean back and close his eyes and let the soft comfort of her presence lull him to sleep. How, how did he get so lucky? Yesterday he hadn’t seen her in weeks and now… Now they’ve kissed and they’re holding hands and yet the transition has felt so, so easy and so, so natural. Like it was always meant to be this way.
“So… what’s next?”
The words are whispered, scared, and he doesn’t want to respond.
“I…”
“You want to go back. You're going to help Alan Blunt.”
“Yeah…”
She’s quiet, contemplating his words.
“Yeah,” he repeats, gives her palm a gentle squeeze and then pulls his hand from hers to wipe and rub his eyes, “I’m going back. I have to finish Scopria – for my parents and,” he looks up at her, suddenly surprised by the intensity of her gaze but happy to meet it, “for your parents too.”
He pauses, not sure if he should say what else he’s thinking. “But also… But also because if the city they are targeting is London then…” he looks up at her, “I need to do everything I can to make sure that Jack, and Tom, and you are safe.”
She looks away from him for a moment, processing, and then, finally – “okay. I get it.”
He’s surprised. “You do?”
“Yes. I don’t like it. But I get it.”
“Really?” he feels like an idiot but can’t quite believe it.
“Mmmm. For now.”
He laughs.
“It’s your parents, right? My parents too. So I get it.”
She smiles at him shyly. And then; “we have this in common now and… these things… these things are horrible but at the end of the day it’s family and you do what you need to do.”
Damn. When did Kyra get so bloody wise?
She lies back on the cushions, shimmying her shoulders down into a comfortable position, head on the armrest and legs stretched out the length of the sofa, snuggly tucked up in the duvet Jack has given her. She stretches and folds her arms behind her head, a queen surveying her kingdom.
“But in return I was thinking that I need a promise from you.”
Ah ha… The catch…
“Oh?”
“Yes. Maybe after this… Maybe if you finish Scorpia and get your revenge… Maybe no more saving the world for a while?”
He laughs, utterly relieved at her reaction. He goes to lie next to her, stretching out on his side, his body crammed in the little space between the back of the sofa and her, elbow propping him up.
“But what ever will we do without it?”
The smirk she gives him is so intense, so suggestive, so evil that he almost can’t move.
“I know of a few things.”
And her hand moves up to the back of his head, trailing through his hair, pulling him to her, and their lips meet again. His arm goes around her automatically, and he’s running his fingers through her hair now and then down to cup her chin as their lips move together. And he suddenly realises that if there’s ever anything he’s going to go out and fight his life for, it’s this.
She nibbles his lower lip and he finds himself groaning slightly because it feels so, so good and then she’s tentatively darted out her tongue to touch his and he caresses hers back and feels her smile into him. Oh God he wants to stay here forever, to feel this forever.
They take their time this time, lips battling lips, his hands exploring her hair, running over her shoulder and back to tentatively settle on her waist, her arms gripped around him in a way that feels so safe, so protected, so secure he almost can’t bare to break their embrace.
And they just… explore.
Eventually and reluctantly he pulls back and rests his forehead against hers. “I should… get to bed.”
“Okay.” She nudges her nose at his cheek, nuzzling him. “Go on then.”
His eyes drift shut at her touch, her breath warm on his skin.
He groans again and makes a wholly unconvincing attempt to get up and leave. Kyra just smirks at him, apparently completely unconcerned at his predicament.
Their fingers are intertwined and fit perfectly together and he drops a light kiss on the linked hands. “Thanks… thanks for waiting up.”
“Of course.”
With Herculean effort he pushes himself up to a sitting position and yawns, his knees hooked over her stretched out legs, feet hanging off the edge of the sofa. Oh God it’s nearly 2am. She’s giving him a shy smile, peering up at him and he can read the unspoken words in that worried look on her face and in the nervous way she’s pulling at her bottom lip with her teeth.
“I’ll be okay.”
She nods but doesn’t speak and he can tell she’s not convinced. “Seriously.” He grins at her. “I’ve got a lot to come home to.”
She gives him a grin, pointing jokingly to herself as if to ask, “me?”
He smiles back and gives her a nod, answering out loud in return. “You. Definitely you.”