Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider and intend no copyright infringement.
A/N: Another one-shot co-written with cedricsowner. Alex, his friend from San Francisco and the question of how to deal with past and present.
Junior's father was out of town on a job with the rest of his crew. Even the woman Junior sort of teasingly referred to as "boss" was with them. Only Junior's stepmom couldn't tag along, she was six months pregnant and had strict orders to stay at home, out of harm's way, lie on the sofa and get some rest.
Judging from everything Alex had learned about Junior's family so far that was wishful thinking, but well, hope dies last.
Junior apparently considered it his job to watch over his stepmom while his father was away and thus they hadn't gone out although it was a Friday. They had spent the evening and most of the night playing video games and in the end Alex had decided to crash at Junior's place, a converted warehouse that served both as his family's home and the company HQ.
Maybe tomorrow morning he could convince his friend to give surfing another try. They could take the stepmom with them to Pacifica/Lindamar, the fresh air at the beach would probably be good for her and the baby.
At three am they finally decided to call it a night. Alex slept on a mattress on the floor, Junior curled up on his bed. They had eaten tons of pizza, killed dozens of zombies and were all in all quite content with themselves and the world. As Alex dozed off he thought about the rather pleased note in Edward Pleasure's voice as he had given his approval to Alex staying overnight at Junior's.
Yeah, it seemed he was finally on a good way to behave like a real teenager.
A pretty tame one, judging from what teenage life was like according to TV and internet, no binge drinking, no sex at out-of-control parties, no drugs… well, he had already had wild and dangerous… more than enough for a lifetime, and something similar went for Junior, for all he knew… as he wrapped himself in his blanket, Alex decided he definitely preferred this Disney version of a teenage existence to a Skins reality check.
As long as it lasts, said a tiny voice inside his head as he was already on the verge of entering a vague and hazy dream that involved pineapple pizza, a double-headed zombie and a baby raccoon that would surely be completely forgotten in the morning.
Alex told it to shut the hell up.
… … …
"Junior?"
"Shhhh…."
His friend rolled off his bed and landed on Alex' mattress like a panther, completely noiseless.
"Someone's in the kitchen…", Alex whispered. "What shall we do, call the police?"
"No police." Junior made it sound like it was some sort of iron rule.
Truth to be told, Alex wasn't too keen on contact with law enforcement personnel either. His MI6 days had left him with a deep distrust regarding all government representatives. Once they had you in their clutches… Better not catch their attention. He had the feeling with Junior and his lot the aversion to the boys in blue had more tangible reasons, though.
"So how do you want to play it?", Alex asked.
"Wake stepmom, check if she's okay, go downstairs and see to the rest. There's a gun hidden underneath my dresser and another one under the nightstand. Don't think we'll need the hand grenade, though…"
There they were, the tangible reasons.
Guns. Great, just great. There were about five million ways this could turn into a shit storm…
Somewhere in the back of Alex' mind a not-so-tiny-anymore voice trumpeted in triumph.
"Junior? You awake?" The voice of Ash's stepmom.
Calling from downstairs.
From the kitchen area.
"How the hell did you get downstairs? You're about the size of a small killer whale, there's no way you could have sneaked past us without us noticing!" Junior got to his feet, switched the light in his room on and padded downstairs to the kitchen. Alex followed suit, only to stop briefly to at least put a shirt on.
"You two were snoring so profoundly, a regular blue whale could have bounced down the stairs singing the Backstreet Boy's greatest hits and you wouldn't have noticed. Thanks for the flattering comparison, by the way. A clear case of too much pizza and zombie games, I'd say…" Junior's stepmom was standing by the fridge as they entered the kitchen area, overweight family Rottweiler standing guard by her side, giving the fridge's door a hopeful look.
Junior briefly averted his eyes. Alex knew him well enough by now to guess what was going on in his head. He was angry with himself for letting his guard down like that.
"What are you doing here at this hour anyway?", Junior, looking up again, asked his stepmom, his voice bordering on snappishly. Oh yes, he was annoyed with himself.
"Blueberry muffins, officer", she replied mockingly, making fun of his tone. "See, I'm six months pregnant, I throw up a lot or don't eat at all, no appetite… but tonight I suddenly had this craving for blueberry muffins, sir, and I remembered we had some stashed, microwave ready in two minutes. I can't tell you how happy I was finally having found something I really wanted to eat… only to discover they were all gone… guess they went great with pizza and zombies…"
Damn, they had indeed finished off all the blueberry muffins.
Junior looked completely crestfallen.
"Don't worry, I'll just go back to bed, munching on one of those salt-free crackers your father thought would be good for me. They're really not that dry and tasteless. You get used to them…"
Suddenly Alex couldn't shake the feeling the stepmom was having some sort of secret agenda, some plan she was carrying out that he couldn't quite see through…
"I could make you fresh blueberry muffins, there are frozen berries in the freezer…", Junior offered after a brief moment of silence, furrowing his brows and squinting at his stepmom with slightly tilted head.
His voice didn't sound crestfallen anymore. When the stepmom's lips curled into a smile Alex realized the two were playing a game with each other.
"Nah, at 3.30 in the morning? Couldn't ask that of you…"
The woman was all but giggling.
"Blueberries are full of vitamins. All for the little one", Junior said, already reaching for a bowl.
"I'll catch a bit more sleep…"
And off she went.
The Rottweiler took position underneath the kitchen table, awaiting things to come.
… … …
Alex wasn't really surprised that Junior knew how to bake. There was probably a story to it, like with most things concerning Junior.
"You're looking forward to the baby?", he asked after a while, creaming the butter following Junior's instructions.
"Yeah…"
Alex suddenly realized that he would never have a brother or a sister. His parents were both dead. He was the only Rider left. No family whatsoever. End of the road. "Hope you stop her from naming the little one Rhett or Scarlett", he said, trying to chase the sad thoughts away with a stupid joke.
Confused, Junior furrowed his brows and gave Alex a questioning look.
"You told me your stepmom named you after Ashley Wilkes from Gone with the Wind. So I thought…"
"Ah, no, she didn't call me Ashley… she's actually my second step mom… my real mom … died… shortly after I was born."
The pause before and after "died" told Alex that again there was a story to it…
"Dad wasn't around at that time…" Junior continued "…a friend of my mom raised me alone for twelve years… she never told me she wasn't my real mom… or that my father was still alive… it was a coincidence Dad found out about me… but even after I finally got to meet him, got to know him better, neither of them bothered to tell me she wasn't my real mom… I only found out after she died… six months ago…"
He needn't say more. Alex could almost literally feel the truckload of lies, secrets and betrayal Junior was hinting at. He knew from firsthand experience what he was talking about. But something else was even more important: "How did your stepmom die?"
"She was killed trying to protect me."
Such a short sentence. So much impact. Of course Alex thought of Jack Starbright. "How do you cope with…?" He couldn't finish the sentence.
Cope with being responsible for her death, the little voice in his head helpfully finished.
At first it seemed Junior wasn't going to answer. When he finally did speak up, there was a rough edge to his tone Alex had never heard before. He was staring off in the distance and seemed miles away.
"As sad as it is, some things are irreversible. You can't undo the past, no matter how much you regret your part in it and would like to make it alright again. Life always goes on. No matter what, the wheels keep on grinding. It can bring you down at times. Keeping on living, that's the hardest part. Facing another day and trying to do better, despite the weight on your shoulders… Letting guilt and remorse eat you away is just as wrong as ignoring the consequences of your actions. Finding a balance and never giving yourself up, that's the real challenge."
Shaking his head as if to clear his mind from the mist of sad memories Junior started filling the dough into the muffin mold.
"Did you just cite that from somewhere?" Alex began filling his own mold, one eye on Junior.
"My first stepmom told me that herself, half a year before she died… in a different context, but it made even more sense after she was gone… took me a while to see that, though."
They put the muffins in the oven and watched in silence as the dough turned into recognizable shapes. Soon delicious smells wafted through the vast office space, where the kitchen was located, and up the stairs, to the family's actual living quarters.
"Your muffins are ready!", Junior yelled upstairs, making the dog under the kitchen table jump up and bark.
"Oh leave me alone with that horrible stuff!" A second later a door upstairs was thrown open, they heard the galloping of bare feet, the bathroom door slammed shut…
"Did we just bake blueberry muffins at four o'clock in the morning to make her happy and now she doesn't want them?" Alex couldn't believe it.
"Welcome to family life with a pregnant stepmom… maybe your lot likes blueberry muffins?"
Alex wondered what Edward Pleasure would say if he showed up after a night of hanging out with a friend like a normal teenager… and handed him a basket full of freshly made blueberry muffins.
Just then the office's elevator signaled. No sound from the security system, so it had to be Junior's folks, and yes, indeed, there they came stumbling in, all roughed up in varying degrees, bloody scratches and bandages here and there, clothes torn, tired expression on their faces… faces that lit up significantly when they smelt the muffins.
Two minutes later they were all sitting around the kitchen table, Junior's father, the "boss", his two associates… somebody had put a teapot on the stove, but there was also Scotch on the table… the stepmom was out of the bathroom and by Junior's father's side, nibbling on salt-free crackers while inspecting his wounds. Suddenly the room was filled with laughter, the relaxed banter after a job was done… Junior easily fit in, joined the others…
As Alex watched his friend chatter it occurred to him that Junior was blood related to only one of these five people. One and a half, if you counted the unborn baby. But nevertheless they all were his family. There was more to belonging somewhere then blood ties… this here was living proof that the end of one road could be the beginning of another.
When Alex went back to the Pleasures a couple of hours later, he brought them the rest of the muffins.