Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider…

Clinically Insane

Insanity: n. mental illness of such a severe nature that a person cannot distinguish fantasy from reality, cannot conduct her/his affairs due to psychosis, or is subject to uncontrollable impulsive behavior.

"Let's start out with a process called 'free association', shall we? Do you know what that is?" The school psychologist, Mrs. Jillian Darcy nee Reyes, was a young woman. She was a close friend of Belinda Frank, who had recently come to her for help with one of her students.

The boy that sat in front of her didn't look like he was a bad student. In fact, when Jillian had looked at his grades, he seemed to be the model student. But then Belinda had told her the rumors.

The boy in front of her had missed an insane amount of school. He always claimed he was sick, though it didn't seem like it. However, the school couldn't prove he was involved in any illegal activity, seeing as he had a legitimate note from a "Dr. March".

It was said that he was in a gang. Or maybe, he took drugs. Either way, Jillian was determined to help this boy. She wanted to change this Alex Rider enigma.

"Yeah. You say a word, and I say the first thing that comes to mind." Alex sounded so weary, as he leaned back on the sofa in her office. His eyes were fixed on the clock opposite of him. It was just after school.

Jillian looked down at the list in front of her, "Yes, that's correct. Ready?"

"Sure." He replied, looking away from the clock and towards her.

Jillian shivered under his cold gaze, "Dog."

"Cat."

"Fur."

"Soft."

"Mouse."

"Rat."

"Head."

"Brain."

"Biology."

"Dissection." The word was almost hissed.

"Water."

"Drowning."

"Fire."

"Burning."

"Dead."

"214."

Jillian paused and looked up, her eyebrows raised, "Can you explain what you mean by that?"

"People." Alex avoided her eyes, "People that I've known that died."

The silence was nearly palpable. Jillian gaped at the blonde boy in front of her. She finally shook herself out of her shock. Maybe the boy knew some soldiers. Jillian herself had a brother in the SAS. He'd always tell her how they'd loose whole units at a time.

"Alright," she said softly, "Let's move on."

"I'd rather not." Alex looked up again, directly into the woman's eyes, "I don't feel comfortable with telling you all this. Especially since I know you're reporting this to Miss Frank."

Jillian was frozen for a moment. How did he know?

He stood, clearly ready to head towards the door.

"Wait a moment!" Jillian was up on her feet now too, "You can't just leave! You need help!"

Alex's eyes burned into her, "I don't need help. And even if I did, I wouldn't want it from the likes of you."

Jillian gaped at his utter disrespect.

Ring ring!

Alex glanced down, pulling a phone out of his pocket. Jillian gaped more. He was being so disrespectful! No wonder Belinda hated this boy.

"This is Rider."

Jillian couldn't make out the garbled speech in the background, but the words had an instantaneous effect on Alex. He stiffened and straightened, "How far out are you?"

More garbled speech.

"I have a civilian with me! What the hell is Jones playing at?"

Jillian couldn't help but notice the usage of the word "civilian", like he wasn't.

Alex hung up. She could feel the anger radiating off of him in waves. He ushered her into a closet and closed the door, "Don't move. Don't make any noise. Don't even breathe."

The boy was scaring her now. What was he doing?

That was when the windows shattered.

"Fu-" Jillian muffled a gasp. She could see partly out of a small crack in the doorway. Alex was crouching, a gleaming gun in his hand. Several figures swung into the room, landing on the floor with the glass crunching beneath their feet.

"Alex. It's been a long time, mate." The voice was low. It sent shivers down Jillian's back. She instantly knew that this man wasn't a friend.

"Not long enough." Alex snarled back, "It was a mistake, coming here."

"I doubt it." The man laughed back, "You're alone, five against one, and have a gun filled with only tranq darts."

Jillian saw part of Alex's smile, "Exactly."

Pop! Pop pop pop pop!

"I swear," came Alex's mutter, "They get stupider every day."

Jillian, still trembling, began to make her way out. She took in her office, gaping at the mess. Shards of glass littered the floor, her desk, and her sofa. Alex stood in the center of the room, holstering his gun. He had cuts all over him, presumably from the glass.

BANG!

Jillian let out a horrified scream when the door behind them burst open. The door had been knocked down, the hinges ripped right off.

"Late again." Alex looked annoyed, "Every single bloody time."

The first man looked very familiar, "Sorry, Cub."

"Terence?" Jillian's head was spinning with confusion. Her brother, the man she admired so much, was standing before her in his uniform. Three men trailed behind him.

"Jillian?" He sounded confused.

"I'm dreaming. I'm dreaming..." Jillian's eyes rolled to the back of her head and she fell backwards.

Alex rushed to catch her. Wolf relieved him of the load.

"Well," Alex stared at the unconscious woman, "That went well."

CINICALLY*INSANE

Jillian woke with a jerk. She was laying on a pristine white bed. The walls around her were white. She didn't have to think too hard to know that she was in a hospital room. She groaned, sitting up. She was connected to a machine that displayed several things that she didn't really care about.

"Hey."

Jillian looked over to her right, where Terence was sitting by her bedside.

"What just happened?" She croaked, rubbing her head.

Terence tried to smile reassuringly, "I'm sorry. You got a bit involved with my work."

She recalled the teenage boy, the gun in his hands. The broken boy, who desperately needed help. The boy that had known 214 people that had died.

"It's my fault."

Jillian nearly jumped. She hadn't noticed the silent boy in the corner of the room, watching her, "What do you mean?"

"They were after me." Alex said casually, his hands in his pockets. Jillian could see his holstered gun by his side.

No, no, no, no. She didn't accept this.

"This is all a dream." Jillian told herself.

Alex shook his head, "No, it's not."

It's a dream. It's a dream. It's a dream. This can't be real. Five ninja dudes did not just break my windows and ruin my office. It's not real. My brother and his SAS unit did not break down my door. It's a dream. All a dream.

Her inner thoughts did nothing to quell the confusion and the anger bubbling up in her. She raised a shaky finger at Alex, then swung it at Terence, then back at Alex, "You're all crazy! Barking mad! Insane!"

She felt a flash of guilt when she saw Terence's affronted expression. Shoving the guilt away, she ripped off the heart monitor and scrambled out of the bed. She stormed over to the door, then turned back to wave another finger at Alex.

"I'm writing on that report that you're insane! Just insane!"

She stalked out of the room, shouting at the top of her lungs, "CLINICALLY INSANE!"

A/N: I dunno. I didn't like that too much. I feel like I should rewrite it, but I don't really want to... I just wanna SLEEEEEEEEP.

Anyway, feel free to tell me how good/bad that was. I think I'm going to sleep. Good night. Just kidding it's not even night. What am I going to do?

-Al