AN: I don't own anything. But I will when I take over the world.
Alex: I can't let you do that!
AN: But I'm the good guy! I'm taking the world peacefully. I've already gained command of several small AUs.
Alex: Which ones?
AN: Classified.
Alex: Well, what's in it for me, then.
AN: I'll free you from the evil clutches of MI6, promote world peace, and use my magical powers to bring Jack back.
Alex: I wish... She doesn't own anything though, people.
AN: Never, ever, ever insult the girl who controls your life with her pen... I mean, keyboard! What should I do to him in revenge, huh? Advice for another story please leave in a review or in PMs.
Alex: What does writing have to do with PMS?
AN: Never mind.
And so it begins:
Glancing down at his nephew in his arms, blond hair sticking up in tufts, Ian Rider swallowed hard past the lump in his throat.
His brother... They were dead. God, Helen! She was dead. A sudden stabbing guilt tore at his heart. He had never said it, could never force the words out. He loved his brother too much to tear their relationship to pieces. He just watched them sometimes, imagined it was his long, slender fingers intertwined with hers, their laughter that pealed in the air, mingling with perfect harmony. His words refused to come though. His brother meant more to him than a broken heart.
Now his brother was dead. They were both dead. Looking at their child in his arms, his brother's child, he felt his heart constrict and stutter. He had thought that if she didn't love him, if he had no chance for happiness with her, than at least his brother could. But now all of that was torn away, and he felt guilty. Guilty for the jealousy he harbored, he hid.
Tearing his eyes away from the child, Ian Rider gritted his teeth. Every time he looked at the boy, he felt guilty. Guilty for being jealous of a dead man. A good man.
Every time he saw the unruly hair, just like his brother's, he found he couldn't breathe. It was like looking at everything he despised about himself and worse, he felt guilty for not allowing himself to care for the child he now held, so newly orphaned, the child that could have been... should have been... his. The child he had never met till now. The child he had avoided. He hadn't gone to see his own newborn baby nephew because he couldn't face that part of himself... and now that he was forced by fate to hold him for the first time, he felt nothing but shame.
The infant moved, just slightly in his arms, waking up. He panicked, His eyes shifting back and forth. He wasn't ready for this! Why would they choose him?
The baby's eyes, Alex's eyes, opened and Ian bit his lip in shock. Those eyes... They were Helen's eyes. Eyes he thought he would never see again.
They were so beautiful. He tightened his grip on the precious child, who cooed and stretched a tiny hand up, grasping for him. A single tear ran down his face as Ian felt his heart melt in a way it hadn't for years, melting despite all the boundaries he had built up against the horrors he had seen...
But this, staring into those innocent eyes. Ian knew he had a second chance. A chance to make things right. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~0~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Blunt, his salt and pepper hair slowly turning as grey as the rest of him, glared at Ian Rider.
"I do not care," he over-enunciated. "That the child is in your care now. He's just a baby. We'll hire a sitter and he won't even know the difference. You have a mission and you will complete it. Do I make myself clear?"
The spy's eyes narrowed in distaste. "If I come back to find one hair on his head harmed, I will personally see you dead, Alan. You know I will. It's what I'm trained for."
Blunt simply flashed him an enigmatic smile, looking absolutely unconcerned. Ian's eyes flashed as his rage flared. He opened his mouth, but Blunt held a hand up to stop him.
"You cannot protect the boy forever, Rider, and this mission is of the utmost importance."
The tension left Ian's shoulders as he sighed in resignation. "So, brief me. I'll do it."
Blunt nodded as though expecting it. No one ever denied him, they knew he'd find a far less pleasant way to force their obedience.
"We have a bit of an issue with our allies, the Israeli intelligence force, Mossad. Diplomatically speaking, you won't be there, not officially anyways..."
His mouth turning up in a small knowing smirk, Ian murmured to himself. "Plausible deniability..."
Blunt nodded. "Exactly. Eli, however will know you're coming."
"Eli?"
"Your contact, Director of Mossad Eli David."
And so it began.
The next chapter will be up soon now that I've finally gotten around to editing and updating stuff.