A/N: So I said I'd update NBD and I was going to, it was half-written, but then I got this urge to redo the chapter and take it in a new direction and its taking me a little while now because the new direction changes nearly every sentence. So! Instead, I wrote a One-Shot! This will expand to a series of interconnected One-Shots, because this particular plot-line has staged a coup and overtaken my brain at the moment. As per usual, this piece is centered around character relationships and bonding.

I hope people enjoy it! As always, it would be lovely if you could tell me your thoughts in a review ;D

SET DURING STORMBREAKER. This is set during Alex's two week stay with the SAS, before he goes on his first mission. Please do note that my characterization of Alex is based on how I would see a boy reacting to being thrown into a place with intensive physical and psychological stress, strict rules and regulations, authorities that verbally abuse him and peers that bully him. IMO, Alex was closer to a normal boy than he was to a spy when he started out. I understand that he was more conditioned than most and would therefore have a higher tolerance threshold, but I also recently watched a documentary about the SAS and I will tell you now, it was bloody brutal. The men that survive SAS selection and training are legends.

THIS IS NOT SLASH. I have nothing against slash, but this is not it. If you see something suggestive, it was never intended to be!

WARNING: Swearing.

I am Australian. So, you know, if you see any lingo you don't get or if I say something blatantly not British, blame it on that. xD

Disclaimer: Alex Rider is not mine, it is the property of Anthony Horowitz.

Playing With The Big Boys

One-Shot

Surprisingly, it was Wolf who found him.

In retrospect, the fact that his unit leader came searching shouldn't have been that odd. It was late in the afternoon. Dinner had come and passed without Alex; his small figure noticeably absent from its trademark spot in the Mess, huddled at the corner table both alone and unwelcome. All across the board recruits and trainers were bedding down for the night, knowing that they needed as much rest as they could get to face the following day. Again, Alex's lack of presence, curled under the blankets of his bunk as he usually was at this hour, would have been noted as the men of his unit filed into their assigned cabin. They may not have particularly liked Alex, but they knew that a missing Alex would result in a tired, not-very-fresh-faced Alex. And a tired, not-very-fresh-faced Alex was more likely to get them binned than a not-tired, very-fresh-faced Alex.

So really, Wolf's coming to find him was not that strange when he thought about it.

The situation Alex was in, though, was.

Brecon Beacons was a place where only the most elite soldiers from the British Army were sent, each having to endure at least four years of active service before becoming eligible to join the SAS. These men had worked damn hard to get where they were, and they had to work even harder to reach the finishing line. Understandably, resentment and general ill will was harboured towards Alex, a fourteen year old boy who seemingly stumbled across a privilege that many men wanted but very few got. While they were out fighting for their country, killing for a greater cause and watching their own die for it, too, Alex, a mere kid in their eyes, was probably sitting on his arse playing Xbox.

Something Alex probably was doing, which made him more accepting of the accusation than he was indignant.

The point was that Alex understood their bullying of him. He understood the what (made them do it) and in some parts the why (they did it). What he was a little iffy on was the how (they chose to do it).

Beforehand, it was just the cold shoulder, with some mockery and belittlement, courtesy of Wolf. There was also some shoving, tripping and hitting, although never serious enough to cause substantial injury.

Now though, they had taken a different tack.

They had taken his towel.

In ordinary circumstances, this would not be a problem. In ordinary circumstances, Alex would've just cracked open the bathroom door and hollered for Jack to bring him a new one.

Unfortunately, a communal shower was not an ordinary circumstance.

Not for Alex, at any rate.

They were clever. Alex didn't shower with the masses, preferring to wait until there were only a handful of recruits remaining, or even better, none at all. This time around, Alex had slipped in when the last man, Viper, was leaving, his dark eyes so intimidating that they sent Alex scuttling out of his way without even acknowledging the boy's existence.

It was the perfect set-up.

There was nobody for Alex to ask, or more accurately, plead with, for help. He was totally screwed, for lack of a better way to put it, when he shut-off the tap and turned, dripping lukewarm water, to discover his towel very not there. The very not there-ness immediately sparking horror, dread and other synonymous feelings deep inside his gut.

Because, well… crap.

If his towel was gone, then no doubt his cammies were too.

Upon inspecting the bench where he had left all his gear, Alex found that, indeed, they were gone. There was nothing.

Alex was torn between being pissed off and being upset. He settled for frustrated sadness.

After dedicating a few moments to pulling himself together, Alex searched his surroundings for any leftover articles of clothing. Usually someone would forget the sodden uniform they changed out of, or part of it, at least. Today, though, it appeared as though the bastard who had nicked his stuff had cleaned up everyone else's too. Just to make his life easy.

It was then that Alex conceded defeat. He opted to tip-toe into the adjoining toilet block and hide in the cubicle furthest from the door, because, really, there was no other choice.

Call it teenage vanity, but Alex drew the line at walking around an SAS training base naked.

Lowering the toilet seat, Alex sat down and pulled his knees to his chest, wrapping his arms loosely about them. He closed his eyes, trying not to shiver. It was cold, a side effect of being smack bang in the middle of a mountainous range, at dusk, with dripping hair and water still on his skin. His only source of warmth was a single, hot tear that dribbled down his cheek.

That was how Wolf found him hours later.

When Alex heard the footsteps, blatant thud, thud, thuds against the grotty tiled floor, his first reaction was to overthink everything. Yes, he was in a toilet block and yes, usually when someone entered such a place it was because they needed to use the toilet, but Alex had been in there for a long time. His mind had wandered. So much so that Alex was utterly certain that whoever it was wasn't here to simply 'take a leak' as one would expect, but rather to 'hunt Alex down and continue to physically and psychologically torture him.'

Right about then the footsteps stopped. The cubicle door slammed open (holy shit, Alex was right) revealing…

"Huh," Wolf said, his tone lighter than normal… kinder, maybe? "Dinner and a show."

Not kinder. Alex must've still had water in his ears or something. Because his hearing was off.

"What happened, Double O Nothing?" The sharp, mocking edge that Alex was used to took its rightful place in Wolf's voice. "Couldn't figure out how to get dressed on your own? Need someone to help you? I could give Mommy a call, if you want."

Alex flinched, briefly thinking of golden ringlets, dimples, round, doe-like eyes and warmth that he would never, ever meet in the flesh.

"No?" Wolf asked, noticing the jerky movement. "You might want to figure something out then, Nothing. Curfew is in ten, and you're keeping it. With or without clothes."

The knowledge that Wolf would make good on his threat, because he seemed to enjoy Alex suffering - really, Alex's misery was to Wolf what candy was to a baby - sent the blonde over the edge. And no, there was not a mirror on the other side, thank you very much. He was just in a really bad place right now, both figuratively and literally. Not registering it, because he probably would have died on the spot if he was aware it had happened, Alex's breath hitched, much like it did when someone was about to cry, or had just finished.

Needless to say, the sound clued Wolf in to Alex's particular state of mind.

"Clock's ticking." If Alex was looking, he might have seen the slightest, slightest softening of Wolf's expression. Or maybe not; the change was that miniscule. "What'll it be, Cub?"

Cub. That caught his attention. Pulled it from the two knobbly kneecaps he'd been studying so damn intently, as though they were the most interesting things in the entire universe. Because that was the first time Cub had replaced Double O Nothing in Wolf's rumbling baritone.

Alex looked upwards, knowing it was a mistake the moment his puffy, red eyes met Wolf's steely-greys.

There was a beat of silence as they stared, taking each other in.

"Tch." Wolf's features were overtaken by blatant disgust. "Cut that out, Cub, it's pathetic."

Alex tried. He really did. He hastily wiped away the snot dripping from his nose and rubbed at the tears that refused to stop leaking. But all that really achieved was him smearing everything all over the place. He then tried to calm himself down, tried to regulate his breathing, but Wolf's towering above him was not helping matters. In fact, Wolf's towering above him was making everything decidedly worse.

Alex hiccupped.

Wolf leant forward, face inches from Alex's, piercing him with a dark glare. "I said, stop it."

It didn't work. Wolf should have known it wouldn't work. Because let's be honest, it was rather unrealistic for a man whose sole purpose in life was to cause tears, to think that he could stop them. Especially when he was using that same persona that did a lot of the causing to do the stopping.

Wolf straightened, having come to a similar conclusion. He glowered down at Alex's shaking figure, becoming even angrier, if that were possible. Why was his unit the one that had to be saddled with a useless pubescent pile of stunted growth? Wolf wasn't an honorary nanny, goddammit; he was a hardened soldier who had the perseverance and grit to make SAS. And if he ever discovered who it was who had burdened him with this, this baby, he would promptly rip the bastard's head off and shove it up his arse.

Then, in an act that utterly confused Alex, Wolf pulled his daggy nightshirt over his head.

Faced with a spectacular wall of muscle, abs and bulging arms, Alex couldn't help but think that maybe Wolf was going to put them both out of their misery by ending Alex, that Wolf had removed his shirt to avoid staining it with Alex's blood, and therefore, evidence, as he prepared to beat the teenaged boy to a pulp. Stuck between deciding whether or not he should scream bloody murder, plead for mercy or ask for Wolf to strangle him, instead, Alex was quite shocked when his world was blacked out not by death, but Wolf's shirt.

"If you're going to act like a baby," Wolf announced as he forced the garment over the kid's head, tugging it down to reveal a rapidly blinking, completely stunned Alex. "Then I'm going to treat you like one."

When Alex's arms began to move, automatically searching for the sleeves, Wolf stopped them, his large, Christmas-ham sized hands wrapping around Alex's smaller wrists and doing the job for him. Alex didn't try and fight it, knowing that getting into a Tug-of-War with Wolf over his limbs would probably result in dislocation or, quite possibly, amputation.

Alex was pulled off the seat, flushing several shades of red as certain parts of him were exposed. Thankfully, Wolf wasn't interested in using it against him and jostled the fabric of the shirt so that it unravelled. On his slighter, shorter and less-filled-out frame, the shirt covered him down to mid-thigh, something that eased his embarrassment and humiliation.

It didn't stay gone long.

Before Alex had adjusted, Wolf was moving him again. He was turned so they faced the same direction, his left arm guided up about Wolf's shoulders. His confusion was rapidly replaced by sheer, unadulterated horror when Wolf then went on to wrap an arm around Alex's torso, hook the other under his knees and lift him up into the air. Bridal-style.

Alex squawked, mortified to an even greater level than before. "I c-can walk!"

Wolf snorted. "Babies don't walk, Cub." He must have seen the mildly indignant look on Alex's face, must have sensed the backtalk before Alex uttered it. "They don't talk, either."

Ah, so that was Wolf's angle.

"They cry, though." Alex watched as the man's mouth curved into a mocking smirk. "But if you start that shit again," huh, he had stopped? "I'll find you a pacifier, understood?"

Alex swallowed anything that might have even resembled a sob, a hiccup, a hitched breath, and fell deathly quiet. Wolf carried him back to the cabin. As they went, Alex scanned the area, studying, searching for any witnesses to his latest humiliation. He was lucky this time around, as it was so close to curfew that there was nobody out and about.

Maybe there was someone watching out for him, after all.

"So, you found him then?"

Or maybe not.

Wolf tramped through the open door of the K-Unit's cabin, going around Snake, who had helpfully positioned himself in the way. The Scotsman followed his unit leader across the cabin, leaning in to have a good look at Alex when Wolf dropped him onto his bunk. Taking in his still over-bright eyes and the snot dried on his cheek, Snake cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at Wolf. "What the bloody hell did you do to him?"

"Nothing," Wolf responded shortly. "Go tell the others I've got him, would you?"

Snake grunted his agreement, but lingered for a minute, watching Alex rather intensely. It would only be when Alex left Brecon Beacons, the hellish camp well on its way to becoming a distant memory, and an unpleasant one at that, that Alex would realise Snake was looking for something. Perhaps an indication that Alex didn't want to be left alone with Wolf?

Not seeing anything, the man vanished out the door.

Wolf turned back to his youngest unit member. "You get to bed, now."

Alex hesitated for too long and Wolf growled, taking a threatening step forward. Not wanting to be subjected to any more embarrassment, Alex dived under his covers before Wolf could find him a bonnet, or bundle him up in a blanket as a mother would their newborn.

The others came back soon after, footsteps muted by the blanket over his head and voices a low, background mumble. Alex didn't try to tune in, certain that what was being said was not something he wanted to hear. Eventually the noise died, and Alex drifted into sleep.

They hovered.

When Alex said they, he specifically meant Snake, Fox, Eagle and Wolf.

It was understandable that he felt a little apprehensive about going, especially when he chose to go at peak hour. Seriously, there were more recruits packed into this room than he knew had existed. But this was the best time, because if someone nicked his stuff again, he could just nick someone else's when they weren't looking.

No nude Alex stuck in a cubicle this time; wondering if he could lift the toilet seat, stand in the bowl and flush himself away, even if people claimed such a feat impossible.

What he hadn't counted on was the amount of people in here, which would have been a problem, because he was more likely to run into someone willing to express their dislike for him. It was more dangerous, too, because peer pressure could easily escalate any situation that decided to arise. People's egos tended to grow when others egged them on.

And okay, Alex may be over thinking this again, but if there was nothing to worry about, why were they still hanging around? Alex didn't know if this was the status quo; stick with your unit, or something, because he had never come in with them before. But whatever it was, it was annoying, because hello, Alex happened to have eyes and those eyes could see them. They were fanned out in the changing area, each within a certain distance of Alex, pretending that standing around doing nothing was completely normal. Now Alex wasn't vain, he didn't think that the world revolved around him, and he wasn't making a mountain out of a molehill. Any average Joe would have just walked in, put their gear down, jumped in the shower, jumped out, grabbed their gear, and left. Alex knew this as he had seen recruits doing it, which meant that these guys were still hanging around because of him.

He would prove it.

Alex walked over to a bench; his posse, which was not really following him, followed him. Slowly putting his gear down, Alex watched from the corner of his eye as Eagle slipped seamlessly over to stand on Alex's right, carefully dropping his own gear next to Alex's. On his left, Snake did the same. Fox settled next to Eagle, and Wolf went further than them all and rounded the bench to the opposite side, dumping his gear directly on top of Alex's.

Yeah, smooth criminals, they were.

Deciding to play along, Alex ignored his four companions. Quickly stripping down, Alex wrapped his towel around his waist and headed towards the showers. Before he'd taken a step, though, Snake veered out in front of him. Falling in behind the man, Alex couldn't help but marvel at how his tall, six feet four figure cut through the crowded room. Recruits parted to let him through, and by default, Alex too. Although Alex didn't miss the irked, unhappy and downright nasty looks that were lobbed his way.

Suddenly, he was very glad for his unofficial escorts.

They reached the shower block, Snake glancing over his shoulder as he did. He must have seen something, because he suddenly slid off to the right. Suddenly wary, Alex snatched a fleeting look behind him. All he saw, though, was Eagle, who rested a hand between his shoulder blades and shoved him deftly through the gateway into the showers.

Alex immediately defected to the shower in the corner. Unwrapping his towel and tossing it atop the wall which reached chin level, Alex turned the tap on and stepped under the cascading water. He didn't let his eyes wander around his surroundings; because that was a line you didn't cross in a men's shower room. Instead he focused on scrubbing off the day's dirt and grime.

When he turned to leave, he would notice that all showers close to him were occupied by a member of his unit. When he saw this, he would feel the most relaxed a person could feel surrounded by naked men twice their age who harboured varying degrees of dislike towards him.

From then on, Alex would dutifully follow K-Unit to the shower block, and K-Unit would hang around, not waiting for Alex, but not moving on until he arrived.

He would not know that what made Snake stop was seeing Wolf and Fox squaring off with several recruits, none of whom were from the same unit. They had tried to break past Eagle to reach Alex, but were prevented by Wolf and Fox. The stand-off was five on two, then five on three when Snake backtracked to join them, and finally five on four when Viper surreptitiously slipped into the mix. To an onlooker, the sight was an amusing one, with nine half-naked men glowering at each other before somehow resolving the conflict.

Alex would never know it, but it was Viper who told Wolf where to look.

He wasn't the one who took Alex's clothes, and neither was K-Unit.

The culprit was traced back to D-Unit, but no one was ever named.

Two days later, Alex's missing gear mysteriously reappeared. Nobody would directly say who was responsible, but they warned to never, ever, piss off the Big Bad Wolf.

Alex had thought Wolf was unaffected by his tears. Clearly, he was wrong.