Disclaimer: Fanfiction is fiction written by fans, if I owned Alex Rider I wouldn't be writing Fanfiction, I'd be writing original fiction. Not to mention I'd be getting paid for it, I'm not getting paid for it, unless you count reviews...
1: The age Alex Rider was when he met his father for the first time.
- February -
- John -
Strong hands clasped the fragile body gently. The child was so small, yet still far bigger than it should have been when his father first got to see him. John Rider held the baby against his chest. He thought he'd feel more for his own flesh and blood, but no. If he had come across the boy sitting outside a shop in a buggy nothing would have drawn him to the child. He is disappointed. The child looks nothing like him, perhaps a little like Helen. Is it even his child? He cups the boy's chin, tilting his head from one side to the other, suddenly he sees Ian in the cheekbones, Ian in the slight curve of the nose. It is his child, he is surprised that he doesn't feel relieved.
Alex blinks awake, then starts to cry in earnest. John tries everything he can think of, but 1 hour later Alex is still screaming. John himself is shaking, full-body tremors. It feels almost like a punishment for coming back the day after his son's birthday. His last mission went badly, there was so much screaming, the blood, God, the blood. He starts to cry too, he is singing and rocking his son when Ian walks in. Deft hands take his son from him. Alex stops crying almost instantly.
For a moment jealousy wells up inside of him and he is so angry. Then it all fades to a dim, bitter throb in his chest. It isn't another hour later when Alex simply curls up in Ian's arms and goes to sleep. John can only watch as his brother succumbs to sleep on his sofa, cradling his son. Ian got all the firsts. It was good of Ian to look out for them, take care of his family when he was away. Still John longed for Alex's first word, the first time he sat up. His work as a spy is over, maybe he could see a second, or better, Alex could take a first step, or do another first, before he has to leave for some. He pulls a blanket over them. Standing back he reflects on how Ian and Alex could easily be mistaken for father and son. They both had that same golden hint to their skin. The one that John had used to envy.
He opens up a cabinet. He isn't sure how many glasses he has emptied, but he knows it's several. He feels a lot calmer, he tidies up, flicks off the light switch and heads to bed. Alone is so much better after alcohol. Helen is there in the morning, she's very beautiful, that hasn't changed since he left. Having her there makes him feel lonelier, he has seen too many people die, she doesn't understand. He is glad that life has treated her well, but a selfish part of him wishes she had seen all the horrors he has, done all the things he has. He doesn't know what comes next, there is a void left, but he believes that his family will come to fill it.
1 Month Later
- March -
- John -
Ash has come around for dinner, he has an arm slung over John's shoulders as they watch Ian play with Alex on the floor. It is a beautiful sight, John notices their tower wobbling. He steps forward to stop it. Alex's eyes instantly fix on him and he can see his son's lower lip start to tremble. He steps away, Alex calms down. Ian reaches forward to straighten the tower, Alex turns to give Ian his endearing partially-toothed smile. Helen is kneeling in front of Alex, it is the perfect family scene. John isn't a part of it. His chest is almost too tight to breathe. Only Ash's arm around him anchors him to this happy place.
"He's just not used to us."
John glanced questioningly at Ash whom pointedly flicks his gaze towards Alex. The words don't comfort him. Despite what Ash thinks, Alex is happy enough with people that he doesn't know. All of Helen's friends, and her parents, manage to hold Alex the first time they meet him. They don't get the demands to be picked up and cuddled that Ian or Helen do, but he doesn't scream or struggle. No, he and Ash are the Unchosen ones.
"Maybe."
The moment all the blocks have been used up, Alex's pudgy hand knocks the tower over. Ian rolls Alex over and tickles him. The air seems to become a little thicker around John. Ian has always wanted children, John has no problems with his brother being gay, but Alex is his son, not Ian's. He knows his brother could make someone a great father, but Alex already has a father he doesn't need two.
"Ian," his voice is as cold as he can ever remember it being, "oughtn't you be getting home. I'm sure you have lots to do."
His little brother stares up at him for a moment. Then nods before heading over to the guest bedroom. It is a clear indicator that his brother has been in his house for far too long that it takes Ian more than 15 minutes to pack up most of his stuff. Ian hesitates at the door looking up at John hopefully as though for a reprieve. John says nothing, he opens the door, something inside of him turns hollow as Alex's brown eyes stare after his leaving uncle. Helen says nothing, but her lips purse in disapproval. The click of the door closing behind Ian is enough to push Alex over the edge into hysterics.
John keeps his distance, eventually Alex will become accustomed to his presence. Helen is the one who comforts him, yet despite her best efforts Alex is inconsolable. John decides that it would be best to wait it out. Ash excuses himself soon after the beginning of the outburst. At teatime, John tries to bribe Alex a little with chocolate. His offering sits on the highchair tray unacknowledged until John tries to talk in what he hopes is a soothing tone to Alex. Then the piece of chocolate is flung away from him. It is a struggle to get Alex to eat anything and when Alex has finally eaten half of his food he cries so hard that he chokes and vomits.
It is John himself who ends up repeatedly dialling Ian's house phone. It will take some while for Ian to get home, then the time for the drive back. He should be back by breakfast time tomorrow. Finally the phone is answered hours earlier than John had dared to hope for, but it isn't his brother on the other end. It's a woman, someone whose voice he doesn't recognise. She's house-sitting she claims until John gets back. She doesn't expect him back for at least another month. She asks has John tried ringing his brother's mobile, Ian has a mobile? Ian answers on the second ring. He is nonchalant, he hasn't even left the street, he's having tea just a few doors down in the chinese restaurant.
"You're welcome to come join me."
He isn't sure that it is a good idea to take a toddler who has screamed continuously for hours into a restaurant. Then he remembers, Ian is the Chosen one, the magical restorer of peace and happiness to Alex's world. Alex's wails only grow louder as John carries him down the steps and along the street. John doesn't know where Helen is. He pushes the restaurant doors open as quickly as he can. The waiters look like they are about to ask him to leave. He starts to glance around for any sign of his brother but it is Alex that spots him first.
"Ian. My Ian."
The earshattering howls cease abruptly, then Alex begins to squirm trying to find a way out of his father's grip. Ian is there almost before John knows what is happening. Short arms wrap around his brother's neck and Alex buries his head into Ian's shoulder. Helen, apparently knew where Ian was going to be as she is sitting at his table. Slowly the eyes of the other diners and the staff drift away from them. Two old ladies come up to coo over Alex, he is a beautiful child and John is proud of him, loves him. It takes a moment of his heart glowing for John to realise that when the old women talk about how lovely Alex is with his father they are referring to Ian not him. He tries to shrug it off. Ian is trying to catch his eye. John finally allows it, Ian gives him a look that can't be mistaken for anything other than apologetic. John is sure that Ian is sorry that he is being hurt. However he is just as certain that Ian is secretly loving being mistaken for Alex's father.
John sits there ignored as what seems to be the entire female population of the restaurant descends upon his brother and his son. He feels Helen squeeze his hand under the table. He gives her a forced smile, she smiles back, being able to fake emotion plays a large part in being a successful spy. It speaks volumes about their relationship that she can no longer distinguish between him and who he pretends to be. They have grown apart. Time has changed them too much, in too different ways, she has become softer, much softer, he has become harder, colder. He feels old. He gives a genuine smile at seeing how happy his son is. Ian moves closer to him and with much coaxing, manages to convince Alex to sit between the two of them. It is the closest John has ever been to his son without Alex fussing, excepting the times Alex was tentatively watches Alex out of the corner of his eye. Then John scolds himself, Alex isn't going to notice that he is being watched, he isn't even one and a half yet. His hair is showing a definite wave to it, and now he can just see a few of his own features emerging.
Another 1 Month Later
- April -
- John -
Things have been getting better. Alex, while definitely not enjoying his father's company, has come to tolerate him for the most part, so long as Ian is within sight. John is still waiting to hear the word 'Daddy', 'Da', anything of the sort. Ash doesn't like Alex, John can't understand. How can anyone not at the very least like Alex? Ian seems to be a permanent resident in their house for the foreseeable future as he hasn't gone back to his own since Alex hit six months. It seems to be working.
The supermarket is bustling as John Rider makes his way inside, his son perched on his hip. He is careful to avoid letting the toddler get bumped or jostled by any of the many people. Ian is running to and fro collecting items they need, and a fair few John can't imagine any of them ever having a use of. He smiles at his younger brother as he notes a lurid yellow rubber duck. He is 90% certain that said duck is as much for, or more for Ian than Alex. Nostalgia grips him as he sees Ian sneaking junk food into the trolley, one of the few things that can catch a spy is another spy. There is a reason why he was chosen for such a difficult long-term mission. He hopes that he can remember to stop Ian giving Alex too many Razzles. There is no fun in letting Ian know he is caught just yet. It is amusing to watch his brother's antics, no matter how educated or mature his brother was supposed to be, at heart he was still the gangly teenager.
John prides himself in mentally noting every single item that Ian slips into the trolley when Ian thinks he isn't looking. He'll see if he got them all at the checkout. Several minutes later he was internally cursing his perceptiveness and trying to avoid a blush spreading over his face. Lubricant. Lovely, just lovely, condoms too. John rapidly relocated his interest to somewhere, anywhere other than Ian or the trolley and its currently dubious contents. It is Alex's wriggling that alerts John to the fact that Ian had been out of view for maybe a little longer than normal. He silently willed Ian to reappear before Alex began to capture the attention of the entire store in his rather unique manner.
Ian is next to him before Alex does anything more. Alex twists as though he wants to go to Ian. Ian takes a step away. It isn't until Alex behaves himself that Ian comes closer again. When we arrive at the checkout John is instantly reminded of Ian's 'special items'. He is just standing there in line, every customer that goes through drags him one step closer to being humiliated in front of his neighbours. He's not sure that he'll ever be able to shop here again, not to mention what he's going to tell Helen. Ian is positively enjoying this, the evil little sadist that he is. His grin testifies that he is just waiting and watching him squirm like a worm on a hook. He would glower at him, but he is all too aware that drawing more attention to them before the trolley even gets unloaded increases the chances of someone other than the cashier registering exactly what he is buying. It wouldn't be nearly so bad if it were just the condoms, but no, Ian has to get lubricant.
"Would you like me take Alex."
For a moment he felt like saying 'no' just to defy his expectations, but the upcoming incident is hardly something he wants his infant son to witness. John hands Alex over with some reluctance. The crowning glory to his smug brother comes after they have left the supermarket, their trolley laden with bags, none of which contained the aforementioned 'special items' that he distinctly saw Ian put in. Ian very deliberately smirked at him. Slowly it became obvious to John, Ian had put them in the trolley to wind him up, then snuck them out again.
"You put items you didn't want into the trolley simply to annoy me."
Ian smirked.
"Who said I didn't want them?"
With that he casually deposited several jars of lubricant on the dashboard. The ride home was more or less in silence. It wasn't until they pulled up outside his house that John spoke.
"I'm going to hit you. Just not in front of my son."
Another 1 Month Later
- May -
- Helen -
Ian and John are closer than they have been for years. Alex is starting to walk if only by holding onto various things. Life is good, and it seems like John is here to stay forever.
Alex has really warmed up to his daddy, things seem to be going well. Helen carries the drinks through on a tray. She sets them down on a table, then watches as the three mock-wrestle on the carpet. In the end it is Alex that wins, perched on top of John. She raises her camera, perfect. She managed to catch them just as Alex kissed his daddy's nose. Laughter breaks forth between the two men, Helen smiles, it is good for them to do normal things, to be happy. Then Alex catches sight of his chocloate milk, and for one glorious moment his attention is entirely on her. She holds it out, mentally encouraging him as he gropes his way along the edge of the sofa to clutch his feeda-cup in one hand. She lifts him up and he settles down obediently next to her, he keeps her side warm. They laugh together at Ian and John who have now begun a whole new type of play-fighting that seems to be made up of little more than whacking each other over the head with her sofa cushions.
"But it isn't pillow-fighting."
Had been John's indignant response when she had brought up the similarities.
"It's far more sophisticated than that."
Ian had something to add to the conversation. He made a valiant attempt at saying it, but he only succeeded in making strange noises in between laughing; panting for breath and turning blue from lack of breath. This was her family and Helen couldn't remember being happier.
Another 1 Month Later
- June -
- Ian -
The weather was beautiful, sunny, warm without being humid and sticky. Alex was toddling properly now, he could walk so long as he was holding someone's hand. Children grew so quickly. It seemed like only yesterday to Ian that he was pacing in the maternity ward waiting for some news. Listening to Helen screaming. Alex's blond hair was becoming bleached by the Sun.
He rolled his eyes as Helen applied yet another layer of suncream onto Alex. Vaguely he wondered exactly how long it would take for Alex to start turning white. The excess of suncream had already made the child sticky, and with that an idea was born. It didn't take Ian long to figure out exactly what to do. He crouched in the sandpit, siren-like, waiting patiently to lure Alex to his doom. He was also gesticulating wildly and giving verbal encouragement in the form of shouts, but he was doing it in a patient way. Alex pattered over innocently smiling at his favourite - and only - uncle.
"Come into the sand with me."
Alex didn't look convinced.
"It'll be fun, please."
Alex looked more bewildered than guilt-tripped with Ian's puppy-dog eyes, but it was enough to get him into the sandpit.
"Roll over in the sand, Alex. Like me."
Ian demonstrated superb rolling in the sand technique, Alex's rendition of it was endearing if a little different. The end result was just what he hoped for though, Alex was coated in sand. Helen wouldn't approve Ian knew, but that was part of the reason it was so perfect. Helen positively shrieked when she saw her son. John just gave Ian that tolerant-yet-slightly-bemused-and-possibly-just-the-tiniest-bit-irritated look that only he could do. Ian shrugged when Helen glared at him accusingly. On the way home all was going well until Alex gave a soft exclamation of pain.
Instantly he was surrounded by three all-too-willing-to-help parent figures. The muted whimper is more pronounced now, Alex is rubbing at his eyes and Ian has the feeling that Alex is trying to be brave. The pained cries are repeated Alex is crying now. Secure in the knowledge that he is still Alex's favourite if only by a small margin, Ian reaches to pick him up. Alex batted his hands away and says in a voice that is not so much accusing as pitifully wounded,
"you said it be fun."
That is all it takes for Ian to feel himself crumple inside. He reaches out again this time more carefully to gently touch a fingertip to Alex's face. He takes it as a good sign that Alex lets him. He almost feel the pedestal fall away beneath him. He has been revealed for the imperfect petty person he is. Alex wraps his fingers around two of Ian's then looks at him almost solemnly.
"Not do again."
"No Alex, I won't lie to you again. I promise."
It makes him feel ashamed that forgiveness was granted to him so easily. The guilt lingers, it takes minutes for him to realise that despite Alex having forgiven him he has yet to forgive himself. Looking at the trusting brown eyes that gaze innocently back up with him, he knows that it will take a while for him to forgive himself completely. The house is welcomingly cool when they pass through the doorway, a pleasant change from the outside. Helen and John are whispering away to each other, they're angry with him, well Helen is, but John's disappointment is worse.
Alex brings drawings to him, he can point out what various little squiggles of colour mean. Ian is represented by hot pink wax crayon, Helen a pencil, which Ian secretly agrees with as it suits her rather conservative tendencies. It takes several pictures before Ian asks where John is. The answer is apparently in the black marker that has gone off the paper and onto the antique pine table. He knows that he should make this, everything up to his brother, but how?
Another 1 Month Later
- July -
- John -
Helen is out having a 'Girls Night Out' he isn't sure where the apostrophe goes in the 'Girls', he isn't even certain if there is one. He doesn't want to know what women do on these nights, only that Helen comes home with hair a different colour to usual, but the dye always washes out within days. Ian and he are trying to teach Alex new words. Alex still hasn't said anything along the lines of 'Daddy'. John isn't going to give up hope just yet.
There are pictures in the book, Ian points to the first picture, a butterfly. Alex's pronunciation of that one is a little off, and frankly sounds slightly obscene. He decides that they will leave that one until Alex has practiced talking more. He flips through until he finds the picture of the family, he can feel Ian watching him. But Alex is his son and he will teach him what he wishes to. Helpfully a photograph of them is pushed into his hands. John motions between the two pictures saying the names of each member of the family.
Alex identifies himself easily enough as 'Alex', he recognises Helen is his 'moomy'. He pauses when it comes to 'Daddy'. John motions more firmly between the picture, the him in the photo and the real-life him. Alex is frowning, confused.
"Please Alex, do it for Daddy."
Alex taps the picture in the book still looking uncertain.
"Da-hee!"
John breaks into a smile his heart swelling in his chest. He nods.
"Yes Alex, that's right."
Alex moves to the photo next, before triumphantly tapping the photo. John couldn't quite see. Then Alex turns around, looks straight at Ian and pokes him firmly.
"Da-hee. Da-hee."
His blood freezes. He closes his eyes, takes several deep breaths then pointed firmly at himself in the photograph.
"Daddy."
Then he reached over and put Alex's right hand on his face.
"Daddy."
Alex pulls away.
John points at Ian.
"Uncle. Ian's an uncle, Ian will never be a daddy."
Ian gets up excusing himself in a hurry, we watch him go together, but is John that whispers
"a daddy."
When Ian is already through the door and walking away.
Another 1 Month Later
- August -
- Ian -
He stands on the doorstep poised to knock. He never meant to hurt John. Hadn't meant to take Alex over, but the child looks like he could be his son. Not that Ian could ever have a child of his own, no, it would distract him from his work to badly. Worse, if he ever got caught it could be used against him. He hadn't thought it would be so difficult to stay away from Alex. Not only Alex, but John, and Helen a little too, you had to lie to friends with his job, he couldn't do that, that was why he didn't have any. His workmates were not the kind you invited over for tea, coffee, biscuits. Without his family he was lonely. Alone. Helen, not John was the one that had asked him to return, and that had cut him to the quick, she didn't say it, but he knew, John didn't want him to come back.
He knocked firmly on the door with a confidence he didn't feel, it took several moments of a heart pumping a little too fast for the door to be answered. Helen stood there with her long fair hair damp.
"Come in."
She gave him a strained smile.
"Alex is in the lounge, he's been looking forward to seeing you again."
He smiled back more genuinely.
"And I've been looking forward to seeing him, and of course your beautiful self."
She laughed and hit him on the arm before leading him inside. John's coat was missing he notes, his brother had left rather than see him, no, not rather than, so he wouldn't have to. Alex gave him a radiant smile before flinging himself at Ian, Ian pulled him up into a hug before agreeing to read any book he wanted to him. Alex didn't want a book he wanted spy stories, so Ian told him them, he was an infant, he would never remember.
The door opened with a slight click, Ian stiffened, shifting to withdraw his gun. No one was expected and Helen was already in the room with them. Then John's voice filled the room and Ian tensed up even more, but returned the gun to its holster.
"You told me he left."
"It isn't good for you to argue with your brother, you should move on, it was nearly a month ago."
"Get out, I don't want you in my house."
Ian left, he looked back, John had already turned away.
Another 1 Month Later
- September -
- Ian -
It was cold. He hurt. His head was dim. He was going to die. It was the end. This was what it was for. Another line of pain. Vaguely he wondered how long. How long would it take for him to die? How long until the pain stopped? They had questions too. The formless beings who hovered around him. They had lots of questions. He didn't, wouldn't answer them.
"Where is John Rider?"
He was silent.
Another dull thud of the whip against him. His body swung in its chains. The pain was fading.
"Where is Helen Rider."
Silence.
Thud, everything was fading now. Everything blurring, twisting, flashing. Shooting. John. Falling. Hitting. Green. White. Hospital. John, again. Noise - speaking? Alex. John. Helen. He smiled. Something over his mouth. Everything, fading. Gone.
Waking up was a shock, he had thought himself dead. Helen was fussing over him in an instant, her eyes sweeping over his injured body, Alex was lying against him. A glass of water was pressed into his hand, John, all was forgiven. John had something to tell him, something bad, it was in the way his hand helped support his own.
"The scars are permanent."
Ian closed his eyes, permanent. He glanced up at the ceiling.
"I didn't tell them."
"I never thought you would."
His brother is crushing him then, cheek pressed against his own. His back screams against the pressure and Ian just doesn't care.
"I never could have."
"Nor I you."
Ian just breathes for a moment, then casts his mind about for something to say.
"I hate the food in here."
"Then you had better get well soon."
John wants Helen to leave, it is in the way he tilts his shoulders away from her. Ian holds out his glass.
"Could the Goddess please fetch this lowly mortal some water."
Helen lets out a sigh before reaching for the beaker and leaving. John returns his gaze to Ian, then leans forward until Ian can feel his brother's breath against his ear.
"You had better get well soon, Alex is missing his second father."
Another 1 Month Later
- October -
- Ian -
John is dead. Helen is dead. I feel dead. I wish Ash was dead. Alex is Alive. I envy Alex. I envy a infant who is not yet 2. How did this happen to us. End.
A/N: This timeline is as accurate as I can make it according to the information I know. Alex's birthday is 13th February 1987. So he was born on Friday the 13th, I have Alex conceived just before he spends four months as an assassin. The Albert Bridge exchange happens on 13th March 1987, but in my 'verse he goes into complete and utter hiding, alone for nearly a year until they are sure that Scorpia has given up. With John being married for no more than 3 years before going to prison, then spending less than a year with his wife, spending a lot of time with Scorpia, he would change a lot without his wife knowing, and he wouldn't get to see his son until it was all over.
Depending on how this is received, I might write another chapter (or several).