Killing is for grown-ups, part one

                                    

                                          
The couch was more comfortable than Alex had expected. There was only one bed in this safe house and Alex was a gentleman so naturally, he moved out of his room to let his guest sleep there. At first, Abby had protested but Alex insisted on her sleeping in his room. Technically, it wasn't even his room, it was the room of any MI6 agent, who had to spend some time on the island.  
He hid the two guns from her, both Beretta 92-s. 
He was no child no more, he had learned how to handle the most common types of handguns and shotguns. 
Killing is for grown-ups and you're still a child. 
Yassen had told him that. He was fourteen back then. He had no idea what would be coming for him. Now, he was in the posession of two firearms. Did the guns really make a difference though? He's killed many people in self-defense. 
Alex did not intend on using the guns.
Alex had alerted the authorities about Coleman's situation and hoped for the best, that they'd catch him somewhere and shut down his company. If not, he'd have to take matters into his own hands and would be forced to put Abby on a witness protection program. He knew that process would be painfully long and and complicated. She would most likely have to abandon her life here on the island for a long time.
They told him Coleman had a residence in Germany and in Japan and they purposely did not blacklist him so that they'd be able to catch him at the airport. Alex would have to go back to his residence on Big Island and search through it, although a team of american police officers must have already combed through the place. He wasn't exactly excited about it. Still, it was necessary. He didn't trust the police's competence. They've failed him too often. The question remained if he should take Abby with him or leave her here. 
He bolted up when he heard a muffled scream coming from the bedroom. Alex' fight response had been activated, his muscles tensed up. He barged into the room to find Abby, sitting up in an upset state, sturggling to breathe. A dim light allowed him to see her face.
"Abigail?" 
He saw it took her a lot of effort to talk.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, I just had a bad dream.", she said out of breath. It sounded like she just ran a marathon. Alex' gaze softened, his shoulders droppen and he unclenched his jaw. 
He slowly sat down onto the bed. Abby pulled up her knees to her face. She wasn't sure what would happen now and she unconsciously took up a protective position. 
"What are you doing?", she asked shyly. 
"I know it's a difficult situation. It's going to be fine. I'll leave the door open, okay?" 
The way he towered over Abby, the way he spoke, she felt a sense of security. Just this once, she could read emotions. He was being sincere and comforting, though it didn't suit him that much. It was strange seeing Alex in a non-threatening position. Abby nodded. She wished he'd have stayed a bit longer but then she thought of how weird that would have been. 
She had to admit that in the middle of the cavalcade of her dancing negative emotions like fear, the sense of inferiority, distrust, there was a certain tension standing still, which she enjoyed. She didn't know what kind of tension or why there was tension at all but she just felt it.  
How did he sleep at night, knowing there were people out to get him? 
The answer was, he was used to it, simple as that. 



Abby woke up to the sound of water brewing. She looked at the digital clock on the nightstand. It was 7 a.m., light from the kitchen was emitted into her room. It was disturbing that there were no windows and the artificial light was starting to bother her. 
Alex had made her tea and scrambled eggs. Abby had to surppress a smile, when she saw him preparing the food. It was such a foreign sight. A cold and dangerous spy, casually using the kitchen like he's a stay-at-home-dad. That was an exaggeration but still.
Abby thanked him and tried to eat it up as fast as she could. Somehow, the thought of them sharing such an intimate act together made her uncomfortable.