DISCLAIMER: Alex Rider belongs to Anthony Horowitz, not me
A/N: This is just a short oneshot/drabble. It is set in the 'Changes' universe, but it isn't necessary to read that to understand this. You can pretty much pick it up.
'They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning
We will remember them.'
(Laurence Binyon)
One
Alex stood, his head bowed, his breath clearly visible in the cold morning air.
Two
His mind wandered, his eyes staring unseeing at the damp floor.
Three
This day had never meant too much to him, a couple of years ago.
Four
His hand lightly rubbed at the still stinging ache in his right leg.
Five
The last few months had almost killed him.
Six
He briefly raised his head up to the heavens, his eyes closed, as a small drizzle of rain began to fall.
Seven
The cool water served to refresh his mind and his tongue darted out, unbidden, to catch a raindrop.
Eight
He would never again take the outside world for granted; nature was something he worshipped now.
Nine
He shifted his feet, trying to take his weight off his injured leg.
Ten
So much had changed in a few short months.
Eleven
As the bells rang the eleventh time, he bowed his head. The people around him did the same, silent and unmoving.
Alex glanced at the men standing next to him, and a small smile graced his lips. The four soldiers stood tall and upright, their gazes blank, dressed in full uniform but choosing to stand next to him rather than with the others. MI6 had been most helpful when it came to persuading their commanding officers.
He cast his mind back, to that horrible day a short while ago, when everything, it seemed, had been ripped from him-
(-her red hair matching the colour seeping onto the tiles around her-)
-and his life irreversibly changed. He had a new life now, but today was a day to remember, to mourn, and to say, above all, thank you, to those people who had given their lives for the freedom of others. He remembered Ian, Yassen, John, Helen, Troy, Turner, Rahim, Jack - all those whose lives had been cut short well before their time. He became aware of tears slipping gently down his face-
(-"Don't cry, sweetie, I'll kiss it all better"-)
-but didn't brush them away. They deserved his tears. If it was the only way he could show them, wherever they were, that he respected their sacrifice, intentional or not, then he would do that. He hadn't cried since he was nine years old, not even when Ian or Jack died. The foreign feel of the water sliding down his face was not unwelcome, however, just unexpected.
A woman on the other side of him, a stranger, reached out slowly to pat his arm. He glanced around, surprised, but she merely gazed sadly at him, inclining her head. She was in her forties or so, brown hair cut short around an aged face. Another one old before her time, weathered by life and death, and eroded by mourning and grief. He didn't know what he looked like to her, with his scarred face and shaved head, but she was obviously willing to look past all that to the tears gracing his face.
He took a deep breath, shaken by this new idea that someone could care about him, just because they had seen he was upset. The light side of human souls was something he had sorely missed in those long weeks as a prisoner. He had seen the dark, seen the evil that could overtake a person like the moon sometimes eclipsed the sun. He had seen a soul that had barely any human left in it, warped by hardship and by others' influence.
Ben was on his other side, and without taking his gaze off the fountain in front of him, he placed a hand on Alex's shoulder. Alex closed his eyes again. He had lost his old life-
(-she wouldn't wake, she wouldn't stir, and the red just kept on spreading-)
-but he had another chance now.
The bells rang again, and the flags were raised as the soldiers saluted. Alex copied the action, feeling overwhelmed with the knowledge that all around the country, others were doing the same. Each would be paying their respects for a different reason, but that didn't matter. He hoped that, somewhere, those people were looking down on them, and could see that the world hadn't forgotten. If he wanted one thing to be left behind on Earth when he died, it would be a memory of him, so that someone else could stand where he was today and remember.
The crowd slowly dispersed and the woman next to him squeezed his arm gently before wandering off. She was alone.
"You ready to go?" asked Wolf quietly. Eagle's eyes were red too and Alex knew that none of the soldiers here would judge him. This day had a meaning for the armed forces that the rest of the population, despite how much they might have lost, could never hope to understand. You couldn't feel the same way until your friend, your comrade, your partner, had lost their lives for their country. You couldn't hope to get it unless you had fought for your country too, until you had seen the light leaving their eyes and witnessed their body turning cold and still.
"No," Alex murmured, "not yet." He wandered over to the fountain in the middle of Trafalgar Square, glancing down at the sea of red that floated in the waters.
(-red everywhere, her hair, her body, her head, red, red, red, red-)
This time, though, it wasn't blood that filled his eyes, but poppies. He smiled, his breath catching a small bit in his throat as he looked down on the signs of remembrance that everyone that left. He slowly placed his hand in his pocket and pulled out a poppy. He raised it to his lips, kissing it gently, before allowing it to slide silently onto the water. He bowed his head, aware of the soldiers standing silently behind him.
"Goodbye, Jack," he whispered.
Ben came forward to stand next to him, gazing unseeingly at the fountain. "Thank you," he said to the air, so quietly that Alex had to strain his ears to hear him, as he too released a poppy into the water. The others followed his example. They stood, side by side, for a few minutes longer, before Alex turned away.
"Let's go," he said finally. Ben squeezed his shoulder gently and they all walked in silence out of the square. People gazed at them with sad eyes as they saw the tear tracks and formal uniforms. Alex pretended not to notice that Eagle had stayed behind for a few seconds at the fountain. He heard a soft 'goodbye', and knew that Eagle, too, had found closure at this ceremony.
They walked home, carefully and quietly, their red poppies displayed proudly on their clothes. Remembrance Day was a time for mourning, yes, but in the end, life goes on.
A/N: Dedicated to all those who lost their lives in the World Wars, and the many conflicts since, escpecially those 385 British who have died in Afghanistan since 2001. Whether you believe in war or not, these people give up so much for us. They are fighting for what they believe in, and they deserve respect. Poppies were actually placed in the fountains at Trafalgar Square this year.
For those reading Changes, there's a little hint at the end to help you understand what happened to K-Unit. In this, Alex has found out roughly and so isn't surprised, but at some point, you will all find out the whole story!
Hope you enjoyed, and please review,
ForeverChasingDreams