Disclaimer: No money is being made, and no trademark infringement is intended. All recognizable symbols, names, etc. belong to their respective owners.

For this story, Alex is one year younger. That means that instead of turning fifteen, he is turning fourteen. That's the only major change to the canon, for now. Enjoy!

Chapter One

Alex Rider woke up sore, and more than a little confused. This was his third day at St. Dominic´s, and he was fed up. Groggily, he promised himself that he would sleep in his own bed tonight, even if he had to get down on his knees and beg. Three days, since his latest enemy was burned to a crisp.Thankfully, this last night had been mostly nightmare free. He only had a couple of flashbacks, as you could call them, of ugly crocodiles and dangerous tribal warriors. He shuddered, and decided that it was time to get up.

"Welcome to the land of the living," said a voice in the room. Alex started, and lost his balance. He crashed painfully to the floor, in an embarassed heap of hospital gown and blond hair. "Oh crap! I´m sorry Alex, I didn´t meant to startle you!" Now, as the person to whom the voice belonged to helped him off the floor, he realized that it was his housekeeper, Jack Starbright.

"Sorry, I didn´t know you were here," he mumbled, cursing himself as he blushed. "Er- I'm gonna go take a shower."

"Good idea...You stink." Jack said, wrinkling her nose in mock-disgust. Alex stuck his tongue out at her, and left with an indgignant huff. Jack chortled, and decided to make Alex's bed. Truth was, she was very glad that her ward seemed to be okay. Actually, she told herself, he seemed to be taking this a lot better than she was. She had spent the past week, after being informed by a relieved Mrs. Jones that Alex had been found, trying to find a way to see him. Finally, exactly seventy-two hours ago, she had been picked up at their house in Chelsea at an ungodly hour by a very strict-looking MI6 choffeur, and had been taken to St. Dominics.

Jack had noticed, the first night (dawn, really) she had seen Alex, that this was the worst she had ever seen him. The thirteen-year-old had angry burns along his arms, his normally fair hair was matted with sweat and blood, his clothes were ripped and soiled by mud, water, and blood, and he looked exhausted. Actually, that would be an understatement, she thought. His young eyes had been swollen shut, and worry lines had tainted his normally smooth forehead. His lips were dry and chapped, and his face was generally covered with dried blood. She had held his hand while the necessary cleaning procedures had occured, even though he knew that he wouldn't feel the stinging of the antiseptic alcohol the nurses used, considering the fact that he was out cold.

On the second day, Alex still showed no signs of waking up. After voicing her worry to the doctors in charge, they assured her that his present state was due to extreme exhaustion. During the day, various nurses came and went, some taking some blood, others some urine from the catheter connected to young spy. Jack felt useless as she watched the various nurses come and go, so she jumped in when the nurses decided that Alex was in need of a proper bath.

With her own, signature glare that she had most certainly picked up from Ian, she convinced the nurses to let her alone handle Alex's bath. They wheeled the bed into the large bathroom, and Jack ushered the others out of the bathroom as she got to work. She had been given strict instructions regarding Alex's burns. She had been told that they were first-degree burns, and that they looked a lot worse than they actually were. However, she was still required to completely dry them with a surgical flannel, and only use the specially designed soap. Suddenly, Jack had become nervous.

She had known Alex since the tender age of six, and had bathed him many a time. She had also cleaned up plenty of scrapes, and once or twice had comforted him after he had an accident. However, this was no longer the innocent six-year-old that had welcomed Jack with open arms all those years ago. This was a soon-to-be fourteen-year-old, and Jack was apprehensive. Alex had become a very private person after Ian's death, and had rarely let her into his shell. Only when he was very sick, or very frightened, had she been allowed in. Those two requirements were rarely accomplished, and Jack hadn't taken care of him like this in years.

Thus, she decided she would just wash his face and his hair. She did not remove his gown, for she was terrified to see the damage that been dealt to the poor kid in the last year. She had, of course, seen the scar caused by a sniper's bullet, and had admitedly not slept for at least a week after that, her dreams haunted by Alex's pale face, his extensively wrapped chest.

She shook her head, trying to forget the memory. Getting back to the task at hand, Jack slowly began with Alex's face. Jack took a clean towel and doused it with some lukewarm water, and slowly began to wipe the boy's face clean. She couldn't help but smile as she literally felt Alex's tense facial muscles relax. After his face was the normal, smooth light color, she moved onto his hair.

"Damn..." she muttered, as she rummaged in the cabinets of the bathroom, looking for a shampoo that wasn't just Johnson's Baby Shampoo. Sighing, she grabbed one called "Johnson's Baby Shampoo for Light, Fair Hair," and went back to Alex. I should have known...this is a pediatric wing of the hospital. As in, for kids, she thought.

The stubborn mess that was Alex's hair slowly regained it's normal, sandy appearance. Pleased with her work, she dried of his face and hair, and called the nurses in. They wheeled Alex out back into his room, and left Jack alone with him. She sat there, staring at his sleeping face, and wondered. She wondered if things would ever be the same again, and if Alex's continued abuse by MI6 had already left too much of an emotional mark to be reversed. But she also couldn't help but wonder as to how different Alex looked when he slept. He looked more like the happy seven-year-old than the lethal, weary spy that he was. His face was relaxed, and his mouth was in a sly grin. Jack sighed, kissed his forehead, and went to the leather armchair that was in one corner (this hospital does tend to cater to the wealthy), and fell into a blissfully dreamless sleep.

Now on the third day of his stay, Alex finally felt more relaxed. He stood on the strinkingly white bathroom, looking at his reflection in the large mirror on top of the sink. He was naked, and could see for the first time the extent of his brand new scars. The bandages had come off yesterday, but his skin was still red and very dry where the airline fuel-inspired fire had touched.

He could see his arms, filled with small, but still throbbing scratches. His feet and hands as well. Alex realized that these probably came from running through the contaminated wheat fields, no matter how pleasant the sound had been. He now regretted his carelessness, but realized that he had had no other choice. He shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts of his past mission.

The young spy inched closer to the mirror, and examined his face closely. To his chagrin, he had no facial hair whatsoever, barely even some peach fuzz. He was way behind some of his friends...or rather, schoolmates, who were already shaving. Alex brushed his teeth with the provided toothbrush and pleasant, minty toothpaste, and replaced his hospital gown with a pair of sweats and a Cookie Monster tee-shirt that Tom had brought back from America, as a joke. Happy and more relaxed than he had been in at least a month, he went out of the bathroom.

Jack smiled as she saw Alex come out of the bathroom.

"You look much better, Alex," she told him, and pulled him into a warm hug.

"Thanks," he replied, his voice muffled by Jack's sweater. "I feel a lot better. That shower really did me well..." he broke off, seeing for the first time the buffet-style meal that was at the foot of his bed. "Food!" He jumped into his bed, a slightly childish move, he knew, but he was ravenous.

Jack laughed, and sat down next to him. "Yeah," she said, grabbing a blueberry muffin. "I realized you would probably be tired of hospital mush, so I pulled some strings." Alex stared incredulously at her, his own crumpet forgotten temporarily in his hand.

"With MI6?" Alex couldn't believe that Jack had gone asked MI6 for a buffet meal.

"No!" Jack laughed, cuffing Alex lightly on the back of his head. She laughed even more at his indignant look, and clarified. "With our neighbor's catering bakery!" They both laughed, happy to be in each other's presence.

Wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, Alex turned to his guardian and asked, "So…how've you been?" Jack, who was still trying to gain control of herself, cleared her throat and took a swig of coffee.

"Okay! The house is so empty without you," she sighed, as she chewed on the last morsel of blueberry muffin. "But I could barely stay sane, I was so worried! I didn't know if- um," she cleared her throat and continued; "when, I would see you again."

"I'm sorry Jack," said Alex. Jack felt like smacking her head against the wall as she saw Alex's head hang, and his voice go from light to morose and defeated in such a short amount of time.

"Oh-" Jack pulled Alex close, crashing his head against her shoulder. "Alex Rider, there is absolutely no reason to apologize! You did not ask for this job, but you've done everything asked of you and more! You are definitely your uncle's nephew, and your parents' son. They would all be so proud of you, I'm sure of it!" Jack finished her rant, and she felt slightly winded. She was known for her impressive lung capacity, but not when a teenager was pressed tightly against her lungs. That was her fault, though.

Alex listened to Jack's outburst with increasing shock. He had never heard such high praise, not that he could remember at least. His throat suddenly felt very tight, and his eyes stung and watered as Jack held his head onto his shoulder, one hand on his head. They stayed like that for a while, as Alex composed himself.

Taking deep breaths, he stepped out of Jack's grasp. He smiled at her, albeit a tight smile, but a smile none the less.

"Ah-"Jack said; "It's been a while since I've been graced with a trademark, Rider smile!" Alex chuckled at Jack's attempt at humor, and he stood up.

"Jack," he said softly. "Thanks for that…" He didn't need to finish. Jack stood up, ruffled his hair, and grabbed her bag.

"Let's go, kiddo," she said, grabbing his hand. "I've got a cake to bake! What do you want to do for your birthday?" Alex stiffened – he had completely forgotten that he would be fourteen in two days.

"Jack, you don't have to do anything," he said, looking her in the eye. She sighed, but Jack was known to be stubborn.

"Alex, it's high time for you to have something to be excited about," she said, tightening her grip on his hand. By now, they had reached the checkout counter. "So don't you even try to stop me from making your birthday special, because you deserve it. Okay?" Again, Alex was shocked. He simply nodded, and that seemed enough for Jack. When the latter turned to face the lady behind the counter, however, Alex had to take a deep breath to regain his composure. However, he was forced to hastily wipe the wetness from his eyes. He could not lose control…besides, he was too old to cry.

At least it feels that way…

Five minutes later, Jack and her ward were chatting happily as they made their way home, through the streets of London. Alex was happy, because Jack was happy. She didn't stop nagging him about his birthday, though, so he finally agreed to let her attempt to bake a cake.

"As long as you don't burn down the house," he murmured under his breath. Unfortunately, Jack heard, and smacked his arm. He winced, the blow had been soft, but it had been to his still healing arm. Jack looked horrified, and apologized profusely. Alex waved the apologies away.

"Let's just go home."

Hey! You reached the end of the chapter! Thank you so much for reading it, and I hope you enjoyed it! It would mean a lot if you dropped me a line by leaving a review, and constructive criticism is especially welcome! I won't say no to praise though (wink). Expect more to come soon! I have great plans for this story.

Have a great day!