Note: Hello there! I'd like to apologize in advance for what I know will be a long AN...Yes, I know I should be working on my other AR fanfic "Omnia Iusta Sunt Amore Belloque" but I couldn't resist this idea that popped into my head the other day! This takes place after Scorpia Rising when Alex is 16 years old. I haven't read all the books, especially SR but I've done a bit of research. Excuse any discrepancies anyway and let me know if I miss anything :)

Since I've only a few more chapters to go for the OISAB fic, I'll be focusing on that one rather than this. Senior year (of high school) starts in August and I'd like to finish that one before this! So I apologize once more that this one will most likely be updated slowly.

By the way, this is also the year 2012. I wanted things to be more modern, so instead of 1987, Alex was born in 1996.

Anyway, I hope this first chapter appeals to you. I'm attempting to do my own take on the characters, especially the canons, so maybe my interpretations will interest you as well. I hope you give this a chance and stick around! Reviews very much appreciated. Very :)

xx

Disclaimer: I own nothing except the products of my imagination.

Chapter 1: Genesis

"One medium Orange-A-Peel!"

The voice belonged to a girl who appeared to be fourteen or fifteen, dressed in the standard Jamba Juice uniform: a Jamba Juice polo shirt and apron and jeans. Her thick, highlighted blonde hair was pulled back into a ponytail and her nametag read: CARLY. She was, in fact, sixteen years old but it was understandable that people often mistook her to be younger; at five-foot-two-inches, she could barely see over the glass display case holding sandwiches and baked goods. It was a wonder that the hair that usually hung almost to her waist didn't tip her over.

The businessman who'd made the order stepped forward to take his drink, then, after saying thanks, left the shop.

Carly had only begun working at Jamba Juice the week before after having decided that she wanted to earn money rather than depend on her parents. School had gotten out for the summer just two days before her first day and she'd been one of the lucky few to have applied and been hired first. This wasn't her first job though; last summer she'd worked at McDonald's and had lasted about six weeks. She'd quit because they'd been constantly giving her ridiculous schedules and her parents had gotten fed up with her coming home smelling like a heart attack waiting to happen.

She didn't miss it.

With a mental sigh, Carly pushed her thick-framed glasses up her nose and proceeded to take the next order. She and her best friend Mel were still hoping for an exciting summer break. They'd just finished their sophomore year at Eden Preparatory Boarding School for Young Women, aka Eden Prep. There, the two girls had eaten, slept, and taken classes with other girls… and no boys, hence the name of the school. They were determined to meet new people now, whether at their jobs or the beach. Already it had been several days since summer vacation started and they'd only been able to focus on the former.

As Carly worked behind the counter of Jamba Juice, she was also being watched. Across the street, a man and a woman sat in a black BMW, the 2012 version of the 7 series. Afternoon sunlight filtered through the tinted windows but the interior remained cool. They had been observing the girl for several minutes, and now the woman spoke. She had black hair that was crudely cut short and the car reeked of the peppermint she was sucking on. "Do you really think she'll believe us?" Her words were heavily coated in an English accent.

"Mrs. Jones," the man said. He was American and appeared to be middle-aged with short fair hair and handsome grey eyes. Snyder was his name. Brad Snyder. "These kinds of situations happen all over the world. Frankly, I would be surprised if she did believe us at first," he explained with a shrug.

"But the situations you speak of don't always involve intelligence services and spies," Mrs. Jones pointed out. It happened to be that she was the head of MI6 Special Operations, the UK's foreign intelligence service. She would know. "She's not the only one I'm concerned about," she admitted, glancing out the window.

Snyder wasn't the type of person to be affectionate… or sensitive at all. "You might as well be concerned about the other one too. He's been through hell but he's still alive; he's tougher than nails." When Mrs. Jones didn't reply, he asked, "You aren't going to back out, are you?" The stony eyes seemed to glow against his face even with the daylight.

"Of course not."

"Alright then. You've contacted the boy's guardians?"

"Yes." Mrs. Jones looked at Snyder. "They may have agreed, but I can't guarantee that they aren't suspicious."

Snyder nodded. "We still go through with the plan. Whether or not anyone believes us, the truth will always be the truth." His gaze flickered back towards the juice shop, watching the short girl stand on her tiptoes to better see her customer. She had no idea what was coming… and neither did the boy who lived almost two-thousand miles away.


Four days later

"Alex Rider!"

The snap jolted the blond-haired boy awake, setting him on an edge he'd grown used to. It still took a few seconds to realize that he wasn't being held prisoner on an island near Cuba or waking up in a prestigious hospital in London, recovering from a sniper bullet. With his face still in the crook of his arm on his desk, Alex sat up slowly, feeling twenty other pairs of eyes on him. Sabina Pleasure sat a few rows ahead and her bright blue eyes were regarding him with amusement. At the front of the classroom, Mrs. McLean was standing at the whiteboard, both hands on her shapely hips. She was only twenty-nine and her hourglass figure constantly attracted eager teenage boys at John Adams High School. At the moment her lips were curved downward, a sure sign of her distaste.

"Yes, Mrs. McLean?" Alex asked, as if there was nothing wrong at all.

She sighed impatiently. "You very well know that taking naps is not permitted in my classroom, let alone in school." Though it was the last day of the year, she remained dedicated to her job and had decided to give a final lesson on conics after everyone had finished the final exam.

"But I wasn't taking a nap, Mrs. McLean," Alex replied, unable to help himself. The whole class was still watching him. "I was only listening for seismic waves."

"Excuse me?"

He kept his face serious, knowing he sounded ridiculous. "You know, seismic waves? They're caused by movement in the earth such as its tectonic plates sliding against one another or volcanic eruptions. That's what I was trying to find. I believe it's much easier when you lay your ear against the desk; you hear all sorts of things down there."

This wasn't so unlike Alex. It was true; he'd never spoken this way to a teacher back in Brookland when he'd still lived in London. But ever since his life had gone to ruin almost two years ago and he'd lost the only family he had, things had become different. Though it was still often that he awoke from nightmares and saw something that reminded him of his past, Alex was on his way to renewal. Sabina—who'd been his girlfriend then—and her parents had taken him in to live in San Francisco. Here, he was determined to forgive (himself) and forget (everything).

The young math teacher stared at him for a moment as the class held its breath, and then shook her head. "If it weren't the last day of school, Alex, I'd be sending you to the principal's office." It seemed Mrs. McLean was going to continue discussing parabolas when she stopped and turned around. Her eyes sparked with something while her lips twitched into a smirk. "And by the way, seismic waves are measured by seismometers, Mr. Rider, not a sixteen-year-old boy's ear."

She went on and Alex allowed himself a smile. Several students were snickering, especially one of his closest friends, Landon Howard. Even though Alex still didn't know why the boy, who knew more about sports than his primary colors, had made it into pre-calculus as a sophomore, he was fun to hang around. He might not have been Tom Harris, Alex's best friend back in London, but he was still a friend. For example, Landon kept him entertained in this particular class with either his stupidity or usual misfit behavior. Sabina on the other hand…

She had quickly turned back to the front of the room. Alex didn't understand why she was so stubborn. They had ended their relationship only months after moving to America and remained good friends. The thing was he suspected that she still had feelings for him. A few days ago, one of the "popular" girls, Jenny Aldridge, had invited him and Landon to an end-of-the-school-year celebration at her house and it was supposed to take place tomorrow afternoon. Sabina, upon hearing about this, had been giving him the cold shoulder since, talking to him when necessary and acting as if he wasn't there otherwise. Alex was hoping that eventually she'd get over it.

The rest of the school day went by unbearably slow. The last two days of the year were supposed to split everyone's schedules, making the periods twice as long as they usually were. Therefore, Alex only had math, gym, and English as his last final exams that he had to take. Of course, math had been finished in a blur, there wasn't a gym final, and English was quite easy as well. When he wasn't chatting with classmates about summer plans and visits to places outside of the country (in which Alex couldn't help but think of London), he was left with his thoughts or falling asleep again.

When the bell finally rang, he was all too eager to jump out of his seat and grab his backpack, out the door before anyone else in his class was. He was already pushing through the front doors by the time most of everyone had filtered into the hallways. Luckily Mother Nature had decided that San Francisco needed a bit of vitamin D; the sun was out, completely unobstructed by withering clouds, and warming Alex's skin. It was probably eighty degrees, a good temperature for May… and a perfect one for an outside water fight. That was how he'd get Sabina to cheer up. He'd have to tell Landon not come over then. Those two didn't get along often.

She met him at the bottom of the stairs in front of the school, her dark hair fluttering in the light breeze. She looked at him once before continuing on to the parking lot where her Toyota Sequoia was parked, a seventeenth birthday present from her parents. Alex huffed and trudged after her, unsure of what to say. Part of him felt bad that she had jealous tendencies, but another said that it wasn't his problem.

Someone yelled goodbye to him and he vaguely waved a hand, suddenly not in a particularly good mood. After piling into the SUV, he glanced over at Sabina, watching as she did all the necessary precautions: checking her mirrors, fastening her seatbelt, etc. "Are you mad at me, Sabina?" Alex asked, and then realized how stupid he sounded.

"Why would you ask that, Alex?" If the sugar-coated voice didn't give her away, the flash in her eyes did: she was being sarcastic. "Just because you're a prat sometimes, doesn't mean I'll be angry at you."

"Did Jenny not invite you to her party or something? You could come with us if you'd like."

Sabina scowled. "It doesn't matter whether she did or not. I wouldn't go to that stupid party anyway."

"At least tell me what I've done wrong," Alex said. He didn't like it was when she was upset. Sometimes it was almost scary when she had a fit; usually she stomped her feet and said—or screamed—rude things.

She appeared to have softened at his words when her shoulders relaxed but then she replied, "I don't have to explain it to you… but I'm sure you can guess. You're a smart boy." Her mouth quirked up at a corner, making an expression that was a cross between a smirk and a grimace.

Alex felt exasperated. He'd known it all along. "Sabina… I don't know what to tell you. It's been nearly a year." He'd never thought a conversation like this would come along and it pained him to have it now. He had long resolved his feelings about her: she was his friend. Though he would never tell her, Alex's memories of being with her only brought back ones about his uncle Ian, Jack Starbright, his parents… and of course, MI6.

"You're right," Sabina said abruptly as she stopped at a stop sign. "It's been a year. Things have changed. I'll forget about it." They said no more after that, dwelling in their own thoughts. Alex was tempted to tell her to move on and find someone who really cared for her but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He was still contemplating what to say or do by the time they arrived home.

Mr. and Mrs. Pleasure had bought a condominium in the west-central part of the city, another door sandwiched between the countless other doors of apartment blocks near the high school. While some wore the pastel colors of dollhouses and tea parties, this one was grey with bright white trim. Windows invaded the two floors and a single one occupied the triangle space of the attic. One round tree that reached the top floor was set at intervals between each condo like a last minute decoration. Unfortunately, the street was at a bit of an angle, probably thirty to forty degrees, and it forced the family to constantly use the emergency brake and turn their wheels the proper way when parking. This, to Alex, was an endless bother.

The spot in front of the stone steps leading to the front door was empty and Sabina went for it. After three long minutes of trying to parallel park, Alex was forced to stop her and do it himself. She stood on the curb with her arms crossed, watching him as he skillfully maneuvered the SUV in just a few turns he had learned from listening to Mr. Pleasure as he tried to teach his daughter to drive last year. Less than a minute later, they entered the condo wordlessly.

Mr. Pleasure was sitting in the living room to their right with a newspaper open in his lap. His reading glasses were perched on his nose and they slipped as he looked up. "Hello!" he greeted cheerfully.

Both Alex and Sabina mumbled their hellos, not looking at each other.

"How was the last day of school?"

"It was fine," Alex answered as Sabina said, "Dreadful." They exchanged glances briefly before looking away.

Mr. Pleasure seemed to sense the tension. His gaze switched back and forth between the two teenagers as he considered what to say. "How so?"

Alex didn't know who he was talking to, considering his and Sabina's answers were different, but it didn't matter. She was already talking. "First of all, Mrs. McLean is a horrible teacher. She gave us another lesson after we finished our final exam! More hyperbolas and circles. Honestly, we're all bound to forget everything after today…"

Seeing an opening for an escape, Alex inched behind Sabina as she gesticulated animatedly. He felt her father's eyes on him though, and before he could reach the bottom of the stairs, someone spoke.

"Oh, good, you're home!" Mrs. Pleasure had entered the room from the kitchen and was smiling radiantly. Her hair was up in a bun and she looked very put together. "Your father and I were expecting you."

But of course they were. They expected them home half past two Monday through Friday. "Mom," Sabina sighed, flopping onto the couch. "I was just telling Dad about school—"

"Yes, yes," her mother answered, waving a hand. "Alex, would you sit down, please? We'd like to tell you something." She waited until Alex came down the stairs and crossed the room to sit down on the opposite end of the couch. Her eyebrows furrowed at the sight of them so far away from each other but she said nothing. "A few days ago we received an email. It told us something very important, something that we didn't dare ignore… because it concerned you, Alex. And they asked us not to tell you until today, otherwise…"

"Who?" Alex asked, frowning. "Who sent this email?"

Mrs. Pleasure hesitated. "I don't believe it would help if I told you. I'm sorry. But…" She turned to her husband expectantly.

He'd been secretly reading the newspaper in his lap, keeping his head up as if he were looking at Sabina and Alex. Now realizing the silence, he glanced up and hastily sat up, looking sheepish. Putting aside the newspaper, he picked up where his wife left off. "It wouldn't be right for us to tell you ourselves, Alex, so…" Mr. Pleasure glanced towards the kitchen. "There is someone here to see you."

"Me?" Alex was bewildered. Who would want to see him? Nearly everyone he knew was dead. Except for Tom.

"Yes. We just ask that you both, ah…" Mr. Pleasure couldn't seem to find the words. "It may be a surprise to you. Well, for Alex it may not. Actually, he might—"

Mrs. Pleasure cut him off. "What he's trying to say is that we don't know how you will react." Her eyes were on Alex and he knew that her words were meant mainly for him. "Just know that we are right here if you need anything."

He didn't know what to say, so he shrugged and went for "Alright."

"I'll be right back." Mrs. Pleasure disappeared for a moment back into the kitchen, leaving the three of them in silence. Sabina opened her mouth as if to say something but decided against it, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Quickly, her mother returned and she wasn't alone.

Behind her were four people. One of them stood out immediately to Alex because she was shorter than every person in the room. She had to be no older than fifteen with blonde hair that hung in loose waves down her back. She wore an expression of curiosity and apprehension and a lacy white blouse, jeans, and red Converse. She was pretty in a way… but something about her set Alex off, something more than the fact that she was a stranger. Next to her was a woman with long dark hair and facial features that gave her away as Hispanic. She too looked nervous. There was a man dressed in a gray suit that matched his eyes and following him was another woman, whom Alex recognized.

Mrs. Jones.

Seeing her was like being thrown under a waterfall of acid rain. The water was the memories, its bitter taste bringing back the amount of pain and agony he'd experienced over the span of several months. Here he had been, trying to dry away his past and be a normal teenager when the reappearance of a woman who'd brought him into the spy world dunked him under. What was she doing here?

"What is this?" he demanded, standing from the couch.

Mrs. Jones stepped towards him. "Alex, please—"

"What are you doing here?" he went on, staring at her. He couldn't believe it. She had been the last person he'd expected to come see him. But that was it, wasn't it? He'd thought everyone—his uncle, housekeeper, and parents—were all gone. MI6 was a memory he wanted to burn. And now she was here in America? In his home?

Mrs. Jones had adopted a look of desperation, something that didn't suit her. "Alex, just listen to me…" she tried again.

Alex shook his head vigorously. "No. Whatever it is, no. Forget it! I left you and MI6 behind a long time ago. I will not go back there and save your sorry asses again. You don't think it was enough to get the closest person I had to a sister killed?" His face scrunched up in disgust. "I can't believe you had the nerve to come here. This is my new life, Mrs. Jones! This is my new family! You honestly believe you can just show up like this? No, just no. I suggest you leave because I'm not coming back." He didn't care if there were three other strangers in the room, much less that they may not know who exactly he was. Mrs. Jones could deal with that.

It seemed that she was too frozen to speak, her eyes imploring with him. The man in the suit stepped forward and at once Alex disliked him. He had an air of arrogance and he was looking at him with an amused expression. "We aren't here about an assignment, Alex Rider," he explained calmly. "In fact, the reason why we're here is probably the last thing you would expect."

"Your showing up here is the last thing I had expected," Alex replied, leveling his gaze with him. "Who are you?"

"Brad Snyder. I work with the CIA." He offered a hand which Alex didn't take.

"How do you suppose we believe that, then?" It was Sabina who'd spoken. She was frowning at Mrs. Jones and Snyder. "If you aren't here to get Alex killed again, what are you here for?"

Snyder still had his eyes on Alex but put the unshaken hand into his pocket. "Mrs. Jones?"

The head of MI6 blinked and, realizing that everyone was looking at her, attempted to regain her composure. With an earnest look, she said, "Believe me, Alex. The last thing I want to do is put you through another cruel assignment. As I've said before, I could never forgive myself for doing so in the first place."

I don't want your apology, Alex wanted to say but he remained silent. Now that he really looked at her, he could see how much and also how little she'd changed. Still sporting the same bad haircut and dark clothing, there was a touch of something new about her that had nothing to do with her appearance. It was more underneath, a transformation that he could only feel.

"After you moved here to America, I felt obligated to do something," she continued. "You had only gone through so much… I searched for something to help, a person, a place… anything that could relieve your pain, even just for a little bit."

"Thanks for your concern, but I'm not crazy," Alex said mildly.

Mrs. Jones stared at him. "That's the last thing that ever comes to my mind whenever I think of you, Alex." He looked away, feeling uncomfortable. "I stumbled upon something while looking through your file. Medical records. One could say that you couldn't know everything about a person just by reading a bunch of papers about them," she explained, "but then there are other things that those papers say that even the person doesn't know."

"What are you trying to say?"

"Alex, there is a bit of information that has been concealed from you and while you may think of it as no surprise, I realized that it was something you need to know." Mrs. Jones glanced at the blonde-haired girl and gestured. The girl came closer and Alex could see that while he was nearly six feet tall, she was almost a whole head shorter than him. "I can't say for sure that it may help things… but I admit that I hope it'll turn into something good. That's why I contacted the CIA and met with Miss Rosada and her family in Texas. I've brought them here to San Francisco so you could meet them."

Alex glimpsed at the girl whose eyes were watching him nervously. Why did she look so uneasy? "I still don't understand, Mrs. Jones." Despite his attempts to stay calm and believe nothing was wrong, anxiety was chewing away at his nerves. He was suddenly aware that everyone else in the room had their eyes on them and could almost taste the anticipation in the air.

"Alex," Mrs. Jones said, placing a hand on the girl's shoulder. "I'd like you to meet Carly… your sister."


Note: Review please! :D I'd love to hear your thoughts on this little plot twist thingy I've got going... and everything else of course. I'll do my best to update if people like this(: