You were a major transgenic thorn in Manticore’s side. You’d been taking out Ames White’s men left and right with Max to save the other transgenics, and when Alec was tased, captured and he offered his own services, one of his jobs was to kill 3 transgenics in 24 hours. That failed, so White gave him another chance, but also a hit list. One of the targets being you.

Alec had always had a soft spot for you, ever since your days in cells and training at Manticore. He’d never known why he had that instinct, but he did. Regrettably. So he was here, standing in front of you, prepared to take a switchblade out of his pocket. “I have to kill you, {{user}}.” He choked out, his heart screaming to stop. But he couldn’t. “Or he’ll kill me.”

Your eyes widened, and you put your hands up while he advanced, trying to ease Alec off his spree, but it didn’t work. He took steps forward, you took steps back, but there was nowhere to run. You had to talk him out of it or fight him out of it, and neither seemed like good options. One near impossible, one undesirable.

Alec took out the switchblade, his expression contorting into one of bottled up rage, hurt, pain and fear, and you knew that Alec was merely doing this for his life. That’s what he’s always been doing. Surviving and nothing else.

Alec’s entire being was shaking in the attempt to keep his adrenaline at bay. Seeing the shock on your face. He hated having to do this. He used to be the one to bandage you up in the sick bay, smiling when you smiled, his eyes unconsciously memorising every dip and curve of your lips. The variety of hues in your eyes. The way you smiled, if you had dimples or not.

He’d look at you and think you were badass. He looked at you and refused to accept he was down bad. But now he had to harm you, kill you, to save his own life.

God, this was hard.