Running: an Alex Rider oneshot

It had started with a visit. But it wasn't an ordinary individual that came knocking on the door of the California house where the Pleasure family plus one Alex Rider happened to live. The director of the CIA had come to make a house call. It was blatantly obvious to anyone with top level security clearance that he wasn't there to consult with Ed Pleasure about his most recent article. The CIA wanted the only teenage spy in the United States back in business.

There was a certain individual that was about to do a certain thing that would have a certain result that would likely be very bad and he wanted Alex to intervene. But Alex really wasn't listening. He had put that life behind him and wasn't interested in dredging it up any time soon. Firmly, he told the director "no" and showed him to the door.

While he was seeking refuge from the premature June heat at the mall the next day with a few of his newer friends, he had noted someone following him. That night, the director returned, his previously cordial manner somewhat dampened. In other words, he was on the verge of threatening the teen spy. Once again, Alex refused and made him leave.

It was that night that Alex Rider decided that he had had enough. Alex gathered some of his belongings (enough to survive for a while), his laptop, all of the money that Ian Rider had left in the trust fund that MI6 had finally allowed him to access (well over $100,000), the gun that the Pleasures had given him due to his knack for getting into trouble, and left the Pleasures a note telling them that he was going to leave for a while because he was worried about their safety and vulnerability to intelligence agency threats. He wasn't about to let them get dragged even deeper into his world, not the way Jack had. Once all three members of his adoptive family had fallen asleep, he slipped out of the house and walked the streets until he found a parking garage.

He hated to have to steal a car. Ian Rider had, naturally, taught him how to hotwire and he had been driving since his feet were long enough to reach the pedals. With $100,000, though, he could buy a car, but that would leave a paper trail, so he had to steal. He would, however pay for it.

Thirty minutes later, he was on the interstate in a white Toyota Corolla. The owner of the Corolla would come back to the parking space where his car had once sat to find a box labeled To the Owner of the White Toyota Corolla California License Plate IAM 466. Inside was $20,000, enough to buy a new Corolla. Because he had left the money, it was much less likely that the car owner would report the car stolen.

Alex honestly had no idea where he was going to go, but he knew that he didn't want to put his life on the line for a tenth time. The various intelligence agencies of the world had left him alone for a year, allowing him to reach sixteen, an age he thought that he would never reach. It was a cruel joke that they had decided to contact him again after all this time. He had just started to accept the fact that his old life was behind him. The only positive aspect to the timing of this little venture was that he had been able to get his driver's license, thus meaning that he wasn't breaking quite as many laws as before.

It was two in the morning at this point, but Alex wasn't tired. He had turned in early that night and stocked up on plenty of caffeinated beverages. The interstate was deserted, so Alex took the opportunity to drive at almost twice the posted speed limit. He knew it wasn't safe, and he could likely get arrested if any cops were watching, but he didn't care at the moment. He just wanted to go. Going fast allowed him to forget his frustrations and problems, for the moment, at least. He knew that they would catch up with him the moment that he slowed down, but he took the moment to revel in the fact that he was free of them. It was a good feeling.

In addition to his speed, the sky proved to be another distraction. The moon was full and the passing clouds gave it a mysterious look which, surprisingly, encouraged Alex. The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,/The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon the cloudy seas,/The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,/And the highwayman came riding-riding-riding-/The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn door. The lines from his English class sprung unbidden to the forefront of his mind. It was almost as if the first stanza of the poem had been written to mirror his own life.

The stars were yet another marvelous distraction. Having lived in major cities for the majority of his life, Alex had had light pollution as a constant companion. The few times that he had had the time to look at the stars while out of the city had been on happy occasions, usually excursions with Ian. They reminded him of happier times. But, also, they made him feel timeless, almost invincible. Even the nearest stars were millions upon millions of miles away and their light was taking a long time to reach his eyes. The fact that he could exist in the presence of such giants in the universal sphere was a heartening thing. When the road didn't demand his focus, his eyes were on the sky. Even though his world was a veritable rollercoaster ride, they didn't seem to change. He knew that they did, but it was still a calming thought to believe that there was one constant thing in the universe, if only on the surface.

As the crack of dawn approached, he began to think about where he would go. When last they met, Ben Daniels had given him the name of a forger that worked out of Boston. The forger, Daniels had said, was good at what he did and could be trusted not to turn him over to the CIA, MI6, or anyone else that might have been on his tail. That, however, was only one of his options. There was a couple of thousand miles between Alex Rider and Boston and he had plenty of time to consider his options. But, one thing remained: Alex Rider was running and may God help anyone that tried to keep up.

A/N. I was washing dishes one night when I got this idea that wouldn't leave me alone. This little oneshot is the result. I've read a lot in the Alex Rider fandom, but I've never written anything for it. Obviously, I've decided to try my hand and keyboard at it. I've wanted to contribute something to this fandom for a long time, but I've never had an original idea for a plot and I didn't want to use one of the sort of over-done ones. Maybe one day I'll write more for this fandom, but apart from the occasional potential oneshot, I probably won't.

Please R&R. It would make me very happy and (being totally serious) happiness seems to keep away writer's block. If you have ever experienced the crippling disease that is writer's block, you will probably understand. So, please R&R. Thanks for reading.

-hey