ALEC

Alec was brought to the main part of the warehouse he recognized they had first come through.

This isn't good.

Maize was there, tied down to a chair. Meanwhile the man with the scarred face stood a little ways away, observing as he was brought in.

Immediately Alec found her eye, and for a moment his footsteps stopped. Everything Kishan had told him suddenly surfaced to the front of his mind.

Was it true?

Could it be true?

Somehow, none of that mattered to him at that moment, because he was more focused on her. He could tell just from the look on her face, she had no idea why he was suddenly brought here, but she didn't like it. It most definitely couldn't mean anything good—that much, he was certain.

Their two gazes were locked for a moment too short before Kishan jammed the barrel of his held gun into his back, reminding Alec that he was being led at gun point, by the man he once thought was a close friend.

Maize was shooting a murderous look over his shoulder, past him at the individual—Kishan's true intentions were no longer a secret to anyone.

He merely chuckled lowly before making a comment close to Alec's ear about not sharing their final goodbyes quite yet.

"Kishan you...you bastard!" Maize yelled at him, the tense twitching of her hands still bound to the arms of her chair and the glowering set look in her eyes made it clear that had she been free, she had every intent to strangle him for what he had done.

"Not so fast pretty thing," Kishan chimed before Alec felt the jab of Kishan's gun barrel push into his side, visible enough for Maize to see and get the idea that he was getting across.

That bastard! Alec cursed, but he couldn't move.

Maize had turned and was now looking at the figure. "Let him go, Azeal, both of them...they have nothing to do with this," Maize said.

So his name was Azeal.

"You think simply demanding it will make me release them?" he raised an eyebrow at her mockingly.

"No, but I never before pegged you as the cowardice type and I would hate for you to give me a reason to now," she responded and the smile ever so slightly dropped from his face. "Do what you want with me but leaver the outer parties out of it," she said forcefully and Alec jerked.

"Maize don't you freaking dare—" he started to say before his words were cut off in a tight grimace as the pistol held at his back prodded a sharp edge into his skin. He threw another look back at Kishan, who merely smiled un guiltily back.

Azeal studied her for several long moments before he closed his eyes and sighed.

"Still so naive."

Pale glinting eyes opened once more and he shot her a downward pointed look. "Your opinion means nothing to me. You had to have known; the moment I caught you all not all of you would be walking out of this alive."

Alec's body tensed at his words, and he flashed a brief look over at Maize, wondering how the hell they were supposed to get out of this. If they could get out of this.

The way the man—Azeal—spoke, one of them wasn't going to.

Azeal seem to surprise all of them with his next order.

"Free her," he said to his guard that had been standing back unnoticed behind a post in the dim light. Maize stilled in her chair in a moment of shock as a guard with a knife came towards her. She tensed in her chair and seemed to brace herself for something, mistrustful eyes narrowed threateningly, but then Azeal spoke out to her.

"I warn you against causing my man any trouble." Alec didn't miss the purposeful glance directed over at him, still held at Kishan's gunpoint, and neither did Maize. The message was implied; attack and he winds up with a bullet to the back.

Maize didn't move as the guard cut her ankles and wrists free. She looked on the verge of lashing out and attack the guard at any given moment, but she didn't, because of him. Alec mentally cursed. He wanted to tell her to forget about him and just do what she needed to take them down and get herself out, because she was the one they wanted and he would be damned if he allowed that to happen. Despite whether the story of her past was really true or not. But he knew she wouldn't. Dammit, he knew she wouldn't.

When she stood she stood slowly, both threatening and docile, a dangerous force that threatened to release at any moment, but was forced to remain contained on account of the threat to his life that hung in the balance. In a flash she sent a sideways kick that sent the chair she had been bound to crashing to the ground with a newly broken arm—a small release that showed the extent of her anger, and it displayed a clear message that she would not be tied up again.

When she faced Azeal, her eyes were blazing. She wanted to release her anger on him. But they all knew she wouldn't.

Azeal spoke again. "Now, I need a show of proof that I'm not delivering to Morako a half worth product," he said in a business tone, straightforward and forceful. "I need proof that the bounty hunter you once were hasn't been made soft."

Maize clenched her fists at his sides, speaking with all seriousness. "I could rearrange your face some more if you like," she said. "Would that be enough 'proof' for you?"

Azeal's mouth twitched upwards and his eye glinted as he turned his gaze to meet Kishan's focused expression. "I had another idea..."

Maize followed the direction of his gaze and once more, she and Alec found each other's gaze, wide brimming with individual pangs of apprehension before the next words were spoken.

"You can start by getting rid of your nuisance detective."

"What?" Maize questioned as she whipped her gaze from him to stare pointedly at Azeal.

"Must I spell it out for you?" The man tested with an expression on the borderline of cold amusement. "Kill him."

The world froze. Or maybe it was just him.

The fucking hell?

He was going to force her to kill him.

He and Maize flashed each other another look, and even from the distance at which he stood, he could see the alarmed dismay shining in her eyes that quickly turned to anger.

"Fuck you!" she retorted to both Azeal and the idea in its entirety. Something was immediately tossed towards her from the guard upon the nod Azeal gave him, ignoring her statement completely.

It was most likely her reflexes acting more than anything else as she caught the object before it could strike her found it in her hand before she had even yet to look down at what it was. But to Alec, the dark shape and undoubtably sound it made when she caught it, he knew exactly what it was.

And when Maize held out the black pistol in her hand, her stance, though near invisible to anyone else, went rigid.

"I hear you haven't used one since you fired a bullet into my chest over two years ago. That won't do for the syndicate," Azeal said slowly. "Might as well prove whether or not you still can. We also have no use for the detective so...to put it simply, we're killing two birds with one stone."

Maize then aimed the gun, but it was not at Alec.

"Here's a better idea," she began with a cold look as the barrel of the gun pointed towards Azeal, "I can finish what failed to do the first time two years ago."

Despite the conviction in her words, Alec noticed the slight tremble in her hand that held the gun in her otherwise fearless stance.

That's when Alec remembered; he had never seen her actually fire a gun since he had known her.

Azeal didn't react to the weapon. If the look on his face and the relaxed demeanour that remained unchanging was any indication, he seemed so sure she wouldn't.

"Unless you want to see your detective dead sooner, and yourself following...you won't. It's either you kill him and you get to keep living, or, you both die right here and now. I'm sure in that case, the syndicate will understand."

"Then you can just go ahead and kill me. Because I won't do it—"

"Maize." Alec almost didn't register the sound of his own voice, surprised himself at how sturdy and unwavering it reverberated despite his insides coiling like a choking wire, but it was enough to strike her into silence for a heartbeat. That was all he needed.

"Just do it."

He could feel the surprise emanate from each individual the room. Standing unarmed and in the face of the near end, he focused a solid look of pure fridge defiance at the pair of pale eyes glinting with curiosity, and albeit a hint of surprise.

If he expected me to beg for my life then I'm glad to disappoint, he thought spitefully, before he met Maize's eye.

"Shut up, idiot!" she snapped at him immediately, a faint tremble in her shoulders. But Alec met her angry expression with an even look.

"Listen," he said quietly, internally wishing that everyone else in the room just drop down and die, but he was only speaking to her at this point, "It's not worth getting yourself killed along with me..." the words almost caught in his throat, "I'm dead already."

"I said shut up!"

"The least you can do is make sure your death doesn't follow on my conscience just because you refused to kill me," he continued over her, speaking as light as he could.

It's not worth your life, he wanted to say.

"I'd rather you shoot me."

There was silence left in the wake of his words.

"I'm impressed," Azeal then spoke after several heartbeats, reminding both of them of his presence, and it looked as if he was almost smiling. "It seems you've found a cop that somewhat understands logical resolve." He sounded almost like he was commending him, not that that mattered. Alec didn't care about anything Azeal had to say.

He was staring at Maize. The look on her face was full of something he never thought he'd ever see; hopelessness. The look in her eye was tormented, torn. Her posture was defeated. She didn't know what to do, what to say.

Believe me, if I saw another way I wouldn't be saying this. I'm not that eager to die.

That was what he silently passed onto her from the silent message within his eyes. Words could do each of them little now.

Alec thought his peripheral caught a flash of something red reflect off wall to her side. A mere blink, once, twice, before it was gone, and Alec was left questioning why he even focused on it in the first place. The broken shards of windows cast many odd reflections in between the shadows, he was just trying to distract himself from the fact that he was inevitably about to die.

Maize had yet to speak. She was still.

Only, it was not the same as it had been, before she had been shaking—now she was completely calm.

Her eyes fell blank, filing with an emotionless mask that seemed to take hold of her every facial feature until she was nothing but as hard and as sharp as a cold blade.

Alec caught a faint look over at Azeal to see the look in his eyes satisfied; he had finally gotten what he wanted.

Maize walked over to him, the gun held tightly at her side. She suddenly seemed like a stranger to Alec, the look she wore on her face was merciless and hard. Unrecognizable on the face of the bounty hunter he knew—even though he knew she could be a brutal force of nature. This was different. In her eyes now, she wasn't her. It was like looking into the face of another person entirely.

When she stopped she was but a mere foot from him. Alec didn't move. He felt though, as the presence behind him backup up, heard the sound of Kishan's steps find there way a small distance from them, but he was sure the gun in his hand was still held firmly at the ready. He figured they wouldn't let their guard down so long as Maize held the gun. If Kishan had been surprised by either of their decisions, he certainly didn't show it now. After all, why waste two lives unnecessarily? At least one of them would get out of this, Alec thought, though he also wondered what that would mean for Maria Hill—if she was even still in the building, if she was even still alive.

Alec felt the bite of the cold steel pistol press against the centre of his chest and he closed his eyes, forcing his body to relax against the instinctual urges to get out of the way—because he knew he wouldn't. Gone were he previous thoughts, because in a matter of a few moments, there would be nothing he could do.

Might as well accept his fate.

He wouldn't leave the earth begging for his life, he wasn't like that. He would rather go out with as sense of dignity that he could forever dwell on and curse out on account of his ever dooming sense of pride wherever he ended up next.

And against all else, he found himself glad that at least he wouldn't have to take it in the head—a rather odd joy to find in a situation where he was about to get shot by the woman he...well, by Maize.

What a fucking ending...fate was a bitch.

"I'm so sorry..." she whispered to him within the space that only the two of them existed in, for a moment, the other figures in the room and the weapon against his heart forgotten.

He let out a soft chuckle, managing to lift the corner of his mouth upwards in a faint smirk. "I guess I always did say you were going to be the death of me...," he murmured, and then even managed to scoff quietly. "Irony sucks."

She closed her eyes and bowed her head. He could sense her incredulousness at his ability to joke at at time like this. He supposed he was just trying to make these last few moments not so bad, for both her and him. But despite his outer appearance all it seemed to do was bring a hollow feeling in his chest.

He was about die.

Her finger waved over the trigger, and he waited for her to finally pull it, the agony of simply waiting for what you knew was coming coiling inside him.

"You ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be I suppose," he replied with a dry sort of acceptance as he breathed out a faint laugh at the odd question. Was anyone ever really ready to die?

"Good..."

Her voice was but a mere whisper, and he barely am caught her next words.

"Then get ready to run like hell."