Hey guys, this is the sequel to my story, Anything and Everything. If you're here, I'm assuming you've already read the original, but if you haven't, you probably should. Just sayin'… Anyway, thank you so much if you're one of the people who decided that they liked A&E and thought that they would give this a try. I'll try not to let you down :) Oh, and I do not own Alex Rider, or the song lyric by The Cab that I used in my summary.

He thought he was done. And he had been. For three glorious years, the closest thing Alex Rider had come to MI6 was watching James Bond films on the TV. He had finished school and, by some strange twist of fate, he had managed to get a place at university studying art. For the first time in his life, he had a steady relationship, and he was living what could easily be considered to be a normal life.

But of course, nothing lasts forever, especially the things that we like, and so, almost three years to the day from when he had escaped the place that he still affectionately thought of as hell, he found himself back in the lobby of the Royal & General Bank. The receptionist shot him a startled look, and politely inquired as to if she could help him.

"I'm here to see Ms Jones. I have an appointment." His voice came out in an almost monotone, but if you were to listen hard enough, you could surely detect the slightest undercurrent of fear. Fear of what, the receptionist didn't know, and it wasn't her job to ask, but it was there. Shrugging off the feeling that something was truly wrong, she gave him the appropriate instructions, forcing herself not to watch as he walked away.

Alex

The MI6 headquarters were the last place I ever expected to be. For all intents and purposes, I was done with them, and yet there I was, about to head into a meeting with my second least favourite person. The first being Alan Blunt, of course. In any other set of circumstances, I probably would have been coming up with a selection of witty quips referring to the return of the prodigal son to use to break the ice, but these were not any other set of circumstances. They were the circumstances I was trapped in, and to be perfectly honest, they sucked. A lot.

If Ms Jones was shocked by how much older I looked than the last time she saw me, she didn't show it. Actually, if she was feeling anything, she didn't show it. That in itself was enough to freak me out. Every time that Blunt was doing his impression of a glacier and icing me out, I could look at her and at least see a trace of emotion. But it seems that you can't be the head of MI6 without having a kick-ass poker face, and so I wasn't really getting anything from her this time around.

"Alex. How are you?" She said, remaining completely impassive.

"Can we skip the whole pleasantry bit and get to the part where you tell me what you know?" I cocked an eyebrow at her.

"If you wish. Though you should know, if we help you, you're going to have to help us."

There it was, out in the open. The reason I had waited for so long before contacting them. I needed them, and they knew it just as well as I did. So the question was, how far was I willing to go? Was I willing to throw away the life that I had built for myself? For anyone else, no. But for Fiona, I would do anything.

"I know."

And with those two words, my descent back into hell began.