Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own alex rider if i did i would be rich and famous.

this is my first fic please r an r me please

It was cold. Very cold. Alex Rider's whole body stopped from the freezing effects of tredding water for what felt like an eternity. He was clinging to a piece of plastic, his lifeline that he'd managed to remove from the rocket not moments before it sunk. His hands had long ago wrinkled and were now turning blue. He had lost all feeling in his feet and lower body. The panic that had once taken a hold of him was starting to fade, like the rest of the world. It could not have been more than an hour, but to Alex, time seemed to stretch and become as vast as the ocean. The comforting grip of sleep was beginning to claim him. Alex tried to recount his years back in school, long before he became a spy, but even those memories seemed foggy and distant. He would have been angry but it took too much energy to even pull a frown. Seconds, possibly minutes passed, but not a sound was made with the exception of the constant splash of the ocean and an occasional squawk of a sea bird.

Alex's eyes began to slowly slide shut, as it seemed he was losing the war with himself. He didn't notice when the distant sound of a helicopter grew closer, and then to finally stop above his head. He didn't notice men shouting, or a rope slap the surface of the water next to him. He didn't even notice when strong arms grabbed a hold of his limp body and a familiar voice whispered soothing words into his ear.

"We've got you Alex. Just hang in there. You're gonna' be alright."

It seemed that Alex Rider, the teenage super spy, was gone.

The dull roar of a popular café barely registered in the ears of one young boy. He sat alone at a cheap wooden table wearing an empty look that revealed nothing of the emotional war raging within his mind. His hand moved in small, pointless circles as he absently stirred the straw of his lemonade. A single finger was dragged along the side of the cup, creating swirling patterns in the residue buildup. To an outsider, this boy appeared relaxed; his shoulders were not tight with tension and his face was impassionate. Only his eyes gave anything away. Those blue orbs sparkled with raw anger. They seemed to scream out years of pent up frustration. For a split moment, an emotion rippled across his face. Then, there was nothing. The anger in his eyes drained away as if a vacuum had suddenly sucked away all feeling, positive or negative. He remained as this empty shell for a few minutes, unaware of the families and couples passing in and out of the café. Their laughter meant nothing to him. If anything, it brought up feelings he preferred to keep suppressed.

Working for the MI6 guaranteed a life with danger, life without a family, and most certainly a life without rest. His last mission had ended similar the five before. He had nearly died of hypothermia and had spent a restless week in a hospital. Only twice did the MI6 come to visit him. Both times, he had wanted to strangle them. His first visitor, Mrs. Jones, had tried to apologize and tell him what a good job he'd done. Just like the last five times. His second visitor, Wolf, had provided little comfort but displayed a great amount of concern. This display of kindness surprised Alex, but also stirred the feeling of suspicion. Wolf had offered compliments and minimal support, kindness ended when he bluntly said that Alex was needed for another mission.

There was a moment of silence where neither moved. Alex glanced up into the face of someone whom he'd come to believe a friend. The look was cold and filled with loathing.

"Get out," said Alex in a dangerously soft voice. When Wolf didn't move Alex nearly yelled, "get out and never come back. Send me to an orphanage for all I care. I'll never work for you again!"

A look of pain crossed Wolf's handsome features. "come on, Alex. You have to. You know Blunt, he wants YOU and will rest at nothing till he gets what he wants."

"I don't care."

"I'm only trying to make this easier for you. We may leave you alone for the moment, but we will come back at any point in time and we may not be so friendly." He said it kindly, but the threat was obvious. Wolf's only response was the soft ticking of a small, blue clock, which lay, mounted on the cream colored wall of the hospital room. The SAS group commander nodded his head and walked silently out the room. Alex refused to watch him leave, but couldn't help but feel like a part of him had fallen into a chasm; like he had just lost the only friend he had left. They were all his enemies, all of them.

To be continued if you R,nR me that is