Chapter 21 - I Would Still Lay Down

Waves of nausea rolled through him as corresponding waves of water rolled around the ship, and Alex rolled pathetically on his temporary bunk. He was indisposed at the moment because of the unadvisable amount of morphine he'd injected himself with in a futile attempt to rid himself of any anxiety he'd feel from being trapped in a small space with a legendary assassin for any period of time. It had worked… at the expense of a large part of his ability of keep any amount of food down. Said assassin was less than pleased with this. What the assassin was even more displeased about, however, was the morphine's other effect on the boy – namely the fact that it reduced him to a comatose state, and they were nearing their destination.

Nearing, he said. They were already in the port, if the boat's movements were to be believed. It hadn't been a particularly short trip, clocking in at around 18 hours… but it had been entirely too short of a journey to justify Alex using all of the tubes of morphine on himself. Yassen reached over for the umpteenth time to roll Alex into the recovery position on his side as he attempted to choke on his own spit. Entirely unsympathetic, he smacked the boy lightly on his cheek to try and wake him. No response. The morphine had done what Alex had wanted, he supposed, in the worst way possible.

The ship had slowed earlier, the big engines protesting as they worked against the ship's momentum to pull them safely into the dock. They weren't there yet – there'd be more noise if that were the case – but they were getting there. He slapped Alex's cheek with more vigour this time. Alex responded by scrunching his face up, turning slightly in retaliation. It was a start, but barely.

"черт возьми," he cursed to himself: fucking hell. "Это, как вы существуют, чтобы сделать мою жизнь сложнее..."

He was more than surprised when he heard a reply mumbled back at him.

"Что ты сказал?" he demanded, shaking Alex's shoulders in the hopes of keeping him awake.

"Я сказал," Alex replied, swatting ineffectually at Yassen's grip on him, "Вы можете быть правы." Nowadays, even on a bad day, Alex was as skilled as, if not better than, Yassen at hand-to-hand combat, so it worried him that Alex couldn't even shake him off.

"Ты так трахал," he murmured, exasperated but fond, as he felt for Alex's pulse – weak and fluttery but still there, still keeping him alive. "Ты хоть понимаешь, что ты русская речь прямо сейчас?"

"Я не говорю русский - Вы говорите русский." Satisfied that Alex wouldn't be dying any time soon, Yassen dropped his wrist and moved his hand to Alex's face, checking his pupils with the flashlight he'd dug from their bag.

"Отстань от меня," Alex whined, trying to shift his head from Yassen's iron grasp. Pupil dilation was slow – Alex was high as a kite.

"Сделай меня," Yassen challenged. When all Alex could muster up in response was a weak shove, Yassen sighed and hissed under his breath. "Это жалко."

The boat lurched underneath them. Yassen's attention had been occupied by the conversation just then, but the movement suddenly drew it to the other situation at hand. The boat was finally moving into the dock and while Yassen knew he'd have to be ready he also knew they wouldn't be unloaded for a while longer. With this in mind, he located the hefty wrench he'd have to use to undo the hatch, and moved to loosen the bolts. They'd have to be undone just enough to allow a swift escape at the end of the journey, but left on tight enough that the weight of the trapdoor wouldn't work to release itself before it was time to leave. He fiddled with its undoing for a few minutes until he was pleased with the results before moving over to Alex again to try and rouse him again.

"Alex," he begged, patting his cheek again and stroking his sweaty hair back from his forehead, "I need you to wake up now."

Alex moaned and writhed weakly beneath him. His skin felt clammy to the touch and cold like ice. This was worrying.

What was even more worrying was the boat stopping, followed by the starting of a mechanical whirr. The containers were being unloaded. Not theirs yet, but soon…

Cursing violently once again, Yassen left Alex and began scooping everything of theirs into the carryall – the empty morphine tubes, spare clothes, bandages, the flashlight and gun all went in. The wrench stayed out. Completing a final check of the container for anything that could betray their presence, he returned to Alex for the last time, prying his eyelids open to check on them again. No response to light stimulus this time at all. The situation was just getting worse and worse. He checked for a pulse – still present, still fluttery and weak. No change there.

The mechanical whirring got worryingly close. The container lurched, and then they were in the air.

Yassen hurried to the hatch and glanced at Alex from his position on the floor, wrench in hand.

"I could really do with you being awake right now, Alex!" he hissed as he unfastened the trap door. It swung open to reveal a multi-coloured metal landscape moving slowly beneath them as they were hoisted through the air. Quelling any sense of vertigo he may have felt, he moved over to Alex, and sighed, draping the boy over one of his shoulders in a fireman's carry, and the carryall of their belongings over the other. Staggering under his load, he found his way to the side of the hatch and looked down. He suspected the man he'd bought passage from would by now have been found by MI6 and highly doubted they would not have tracked them here. He had to time this right. Unforgiving corrugated metal was beneath them, until it wasn't. The ocean. It had to be perfect. Not too close to the ship, but not too far away.

Clinging onto his precious cargo, he sent a prayer to a god he didn't believe in and he jumped.

A/N: Another short one. I've split it into two sections, is why.
The conversation is written in Russian because I like showing when they're speaking in another language rather than just putting things in italics, as thoughts tend to be in italics for me instead. Here are the translations if you'd like, as I don't like putting them inline with the text. It looks odd. If you want to know what things sound like you can copy and paste them into google translate and hit the 'listen' button.
Thanks to everyone who reviewed last time.

Translations:

YG: "Fucking hell, I swear you only exist to make my life difficult."

YG: "What did you say?"

AR: "I said, you may be right about that."

YG: "You're so fucked, do you even realise you're speaking Russian right now?"

AR: "I'm not speaking Russian, you're speaking Russian."

AR: "Get off of me."

YG: "Make me. This is pathetic."