A/N- The chappie after this will probably not specifically feature Ash. Besides, Yassen wants to get a turn...

Yassen: I agree.

Me: Oh no! Voices in my head again!!!...ironic...

Yassen: Indeed.

Me: Well, while your here... What's your favorite color????

Yassen:...black...

Me: Just as I suspected...

Anyways... The next chapters will shake off the all drama phase and get into some action!! I can't handle writing soap opera stuff for too long..egh..who actually watches soap operas anyway?? And WHY do they call them operas?????!!??? No...I am not "hyper"!! I've just had a little too much coffee...that's all –giggles crazily-

Disclaimer: I don't own the Alex Rider books or anything else Anthony Horowitz created. One day, if I happen to become a gazillionere, I will buy Yassen from AH and bring him back from the dead!!!

AH: I'm not going to sell a dead character to you...

Me: Even for a million dollars?

AH: I already have a million dollars :P

Me: Darn...stupid, snobby, bigshot author...

AH: Well, I WAS going to give you a limited edition copy of my newest book and bring Yassen back from the dead, but with that attitude, you can forget it!!

Me: NOOOOOO!!! I'm sorry!! I didn't mean it!! COME BACK!!! ...he's gone :O ...man...that guy sure runs fast for someone who sits at their computer ten hours a day writing stories :O :O :O

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Blindness.

He was blind.

Wait...no, it was just the blanket of fog. The gray mist had covered everything that morning. Cars couldn't possibly drive through the densely thick haze even with their headlights on. Not a soul passed him by as he walked on.

Why am I out here? The question struck his mind.

Rubbing his brow, he sighed. The constant battle with his own mind was becoming relentless. Everyone had enemies. Usually, there would always be a number one priority enemy, or someone who continually shattered your way of livelihood. That person would always know exactly how to make you suffer, and you barely escape them, if not at all.

Ash had just been introduced to the worst enemy of all...himself.

He stopped next to an apartment, taking in the dismal cemetery not far off.

I went to his funeral...and no one even once suspected me...

Taking a shaky breath, he gazed into a nearby window casually. The lights were on inside revealing the basic everyday living room with a sofa, chairs, shelves, and...photographs on the shelves. One of them pictured Ian and John as children, appearing around eighteen and two years old.They were smiling innocently with toothy grins.

With a knot in his throat, Ash flinched back at the last photograph he saw.

The background revealed a light, sun-drenched afternoon. Ash was wearing his new(now old) SAS uniform. John stood beside him in typical military stance.

Ian had actually kept that photo... Maybe he still thought of him as his brother's best friend.

He trusted me too...

His eyes were now shut. He hated them. All of them all of the voices in his head. They would never leave him alone.

I can tell him the truth right now. I can tell him what really happened.

Slowly Ash took a step forward starting for the front step of the apartment, but before he had reached the door, something caught his eye.

And that was when he saw Ian.

The young man quietly stepped into the living room carrying something in his arms. Ash already knew what it was.

Alex couldn't have been a little more than two months old. From what he could tell, Alex was still a small baby for his age. Fair, straight hair had already started to grow however and already Alex was showing signs of learning.

Alex was gripping his uncle's finger in a playful clench as Ian held him gently. John's brother slowly smiled as the baby gurgled in pleasure.

If I tell Ian the truth, that little baby will hate me one day. He'll know who murdered his father. He'll know that his father's best friend and his own godfather destroyed his parents.

He gasped in irritation. He couldn't do it. He would never be able to shake off his cowardly self.

Stepping onto the road curb, Ash left. His mind still held the mental picture of the tiny baby. It was then that he wondered what would have happened if there had never been a baby, if John had stayed at Scorpia longer.

Would I have been different?

No. That seemed unlikely. John had, for some odd reason, trusted him. And trust, at some point, would always be used for ill.

He told me about Alex. He had told me everything. I was the only one that knew.

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The room was dim. A lone waiter sat beside an unadorned wooden table in the corner. He was off duty at the moment; paying no mind to the dark figure hunched under a naked light bulb. It wasn't his business that the man wanted to meet someone in his restaurant at such an unoccupied hour. A customer was a customer and he wasn't about to complain.

Still, there was something strange about the solitary man...

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Ash sat; waiting uncertainly. It may be against the policy of MI6, but he had to talk to John. He had to know the legitimacy of what he had been so shockingly, if not painfully, informed of. Questions racked his mind with doubt as statistical facts rolled out;

John was a controlled guy,

The paper had said it was an act of anger...

MI6 valued John as one of their top agents,

They didn't even give him a fair trial...

The fight happened in a deserted alleyway,

A reporter and camera squad arrived in less than five minutes...

And the man he had "apparently" beat the heck out of,

looked tremendously similar to an MI6 agent he, just scarcely, recognized from SAS training...

So, it all came down to the truth. And even without having talked to John, Ash already knew the abnormal accuracy of that night. It couldn't be true. It wasn't. He wanted to hear it from the person who had befriended him once, though. He wanted his friend to be honest with him. Was that so much to ask?

Glancing out the corner of his eye, Ash noticed a ratty moth tapping lightly on a tinted window near him. It's wings were frivolously fluttering in nervousness. The little insect looked lost in it's confusion.

'I know how you feel little guy', Ash thought to himself dourly.

He let his head drop slightly. This was foolish. John wasn't his friend. Ash had purely imagined him to be one. John wouldn't come.

Ash looked up...the moth was gone.

He started to get up

And---

A figure shadowed through the tinted glass.

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John walked through the front door observingly. Much to his distaste, the restaurant had little light and looked, obviously, desolate. It also gave off an eerie feel.

Sighing, he walked forward. What law said government agents had to meet in deserted buildings? It reminded him of the exceptionally unrealistic T.V shows he had watched as a kid. Of course, in those shows the good guys always had the last laugh. In real life it didn't work that way.

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"Ash", John stated, casually.

Ash stared back indifferently. "I'm sorry, but I needed to talk."

John nodded at the exceedingly obvious comment and pulled a chair up beside the table, sitting.

Breathing in deeply, Ash began speaking,

"Well, first of all...may I ask what exactly happened to you?"

He carefully scanned his friend for any sign of movement. A slip in his eyes, a tensed muscle, anything that would reveal anxiety.

There was none.

Without emotion John replied,

"MI6 fired me."

"Why?"

"You already know why Ash..."

"Do I? the only information that came to my knowledge was found on the front page of the paper one day. However, I don't trust the media and I certainly don't buy that explanation."

"Ash..."

"No! Tell me the truth John. We both know MI6 wouldn't let you go that easy."

There was still no sign of emotion in his friend. The icy blue eyes were still and his face, composed. How did he always remain so calmly? Ash frowned inwardly. John was a good agent. He was also a good actor.

"Please understand me-" John began but was abruptly cut off.

"-don't talk again if you're just going to lie."

Ash blinked in surprise as John flinched at the accusation. He also took mental note of the almost pained expression painted on John. He had lucked out and struck a nerve.

Finally John spoke, gently,

"Can I trust you Ash?"

Ash nearly rolled his eyes. "Are you really asking that?"

"You know what I mean..."

Silence.

"Yes, you can trust me John!"Ash said in exasperation.

John narrowed his eyes but still spoke. "It was planned. All of it. The fight, the arrest, everything."

"Why?" Ash asked, not sounding the least bit surprised.

"MI6 wanted me to get inside a terrorist association threatening international security... Perhaps you've heard of it."

He leaned forward, without even glancing at anything else.

"...Scorpia..."

Ash's eyes widened in disbelief.

John spoke to him again though.

"But you see Ash, I've run into...complications..."

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A/N Ian was 25 in the movie, which was fourteen years after Alex was born and John was 39 when Alex was a few weeks old in the books, that would mean Ian is about 23 years younger than John...which sounds weird to me,soooo..if someone understands that, could you please explain it to me... :D.

Review! Review! Review! Constructive and pointless reviews welcome. Flamers will get flamed :P