AN:

This one-shot is more of a whim than something that can be explained. And so, it can be understood in any way you want; if it's confusing to you, I understand that because I don't even completely understand this. I have had this story for awhile but with my own character creations, and I decided to use it for AR. I wrote this thinking about redemption, accepting the pain or hate we hide inside in which often makes us turmoil, and also the end of the fight we all have against fate or our set roles in life. Please enjoy! Review if you get the chance please! Thanks!

Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.

The Last Stop: A Moment Gone But Noticed

Alex Rider leaned back in his seat while pressing the side of his forehead against the soggy glass. He had headphones placed securely over his ears in which leaked no sound. His eyes stared aimlessly out the window into a darkening void disturbed by city radiance spread from signs to windows. The last rays of sun were crudely obstructed by the leering buildings and the blackening sky as it sunk into the ground.

After minutes past, the luminosity left his view as it became overtaken by the sleeping end of the urban society. His expression stayed stale as did the rumbling of the bus.

"This is the last stop, Sir." The bus driver peaked back through his rear view window to make sure the man had heard him. To his surprise, the fair haired man had already risen readily. The driver slowed down into the stop, and then pulled the handle in a semicircle to open the door.

The lone passenger placed his headphones around his neck and held a brown trench coat in his arm as he walked his way out. He paused in front of the elderly man to nod his thanks before taking the final steps off the fluorescent lit contraption.

He stood on the damp and fractured sidewalk that had stubbornly kept itself attached to the road as a walkway. He stood there until the bus had rounded the last corner of the street.

It was empty and hollow now, although it was to be expected since the time was fading on the now neglected road. The only company was of houses and buildings that were boarded and abused shamefully, except for a few fortunate ones.

There was one in which the young man looked intently on. It was one that had used to be a residence of his, seemingly ages ago, but Alex now saw it as a long forgotten grave site. And it had been long forgotten. Countless days had passed since their separation, and not once did he visit the warped house and neither did he know what brought him now. The house stole his happiness, and maybe his freedom. Not one day passed without it consuming his buried leaden thoughts. Then why had he come?

He took a few moments to watch the sunset glaring between the rotting structures as it sunk. Without much purpose and no need to hurry or be productive, Alex realized it was the first time he watched a sunset even if most of it was hidden behind the city. Even after the light disappeared, he waited thoughtfully standing along the road. Once in a while, he would take a few steps towards the haunting house, but hurriedly turned away to readjust his judgment.

By the time he made up his mind, it was pitch dark. Alex approached the fractured door upon the house, and as he reached it, he drew his hand across the imperfections in the wood hesitantly. It was then glided towards the handle soothingly. The bitter knob fit perfectly in his warm palm as he twisted and pushed. The aged door creaked as it gave way, and he then treaded inside. His leather shoes pressed into the floor in low groans.

In what was assumed to be a dark abyss was fiercely lit by the moon placed so precisely through the one pane. It was the one pane that was never impeded from its purpose as were the other features in the room. He placed his coat on a fallen table and then wandered towards the flogged couch.

He sat and stared at the wall as though he had just come home from a tired day at work or perhaps came to see a painting on the wall across from him. After an elongated moment, he turned towards the man in the moon. He gave the white radiance a thoughtful look before leaning back, pressing his head into the cushion.

He soon closed his eyes tiredly, slipping into unconsciousness as the room swiftly returned to life. The table was proudly standing, and the walls painted gold. The lean lamps lit every corner as the moon was covered by curtains. And a scent of cooking was emitted from the kitchen. And there, around the corner, stood a woman dressed in jeans and a black silk blouse, and her long blond hair curled into a bun. She concentrated deeply on stirring a wooden spoon in the black pot while occasionally tasting the contents to decide whether to add a spice or two. Alex gazed as the corner of his lip looked to be pulled up by a string.

"When are they coming, Alex?" the woman asked casually, "The pasta sauce is almost finished."

"Whose coming?" was the his genuine response. She turned her head to give him a strange look.

"Are you teasing me?" she spouted, feigning annoyance. Aster couldn't help, but let his fervent grin grow further.

"No, of course not," Alex denied, but then he was at a loss for words. Instead he walked further and reached out for her. He drew her into a hold as tight as he could, trying to condense them as much as possible. She giggled and tried to push him away to breath. He let her go.

"What's gotten into you, Alex?" She grinned, but it faltered at the longing look in his eyes. "What is it?"

"I'm sorry."

"What for?" She laughed.

"I don't know." 'Being the death of you.'

"You're being so strange!" She teased with a tinge of worry. "Really, what's the matter?"

He sat back down to the couch and spoke once more, "Stop cooking, Sabina," he insisted as he placed his head in his hands.

"What are you saying?" Her brow furrowed as lines crossed her face.

"Just…stop," he begged and then sighed, "Come sit with me, please."

"What about-"

"NO," he groaned. He felt time tick away his insides, although he didn't know why. The young woman then looked sad as she finally consented. Alex gently took her hand to hold and they simply sat there in silence. Alex closed his eyes in content. Content. Aster couldn't remember the last time he felt such a thing.

He listened intently to every breath she took in until his mind became numb. He was then dead to the world. In a heavenly dreamless void of nothing. And it had ended too soon.

He found himself staring back at the empty wall that was seemingly waiting for him. He acknowledged that it must be morning already from the risen sun. It showered light inside the neglected home, casting long and desperate shadows. He stood to grab his belongings. And then he found no desire to move further. He stood there in corroding time without real reason. He recalled dreaming, but the contents slipped his mind and now he felt almost in a trance. Alex rubbed his bleary face with one hand while considering when exactly he was going to decide to leave, but he felt in no hurry to do so.

When he did leave, he could almost say he felt he lost something, but not in an ominous way. And he could also say he felt understood. By who? He didn't know, but he decided it didn't matter. Not in the least because he supposed everything was always understood.

Alex wandered out onto the road and was met by the sounds of a Saturday morning. Birds, cars, and children filled the distant air. He decided to scratch the bus ride and walk. And so he meandered further into the heart of the city. He began to take notice to every breathing entity in sight the further he went.

Alex had often observed others in the past, but it felt unusual this time. He didn't feel so different from everyone. He paused on an empty corner. And he thought, if he could snap a picture of that moment in time, he would be able to attach himself to every existence there.

'How strange', he thought.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how much effort he had wasted. The effort to detach from the inevitable. But he found that to be also in common with those around him. And he believed he had already known this, and still, the struggle had been appealing to his every existence. Today though, it was the end of such resistance. The end of an attraction that had kept him hostage for too long. Today, Alex Rider was found, and Alex Rider was content.

AN: Thanks for reading! Review if you like!