Disclaimer: huh-uh.

TRUST


Alex Rider doesn't trust. Anyone. Not really.

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Six year old Alex, just back from getting groceries with his sitter, walked into the bathroom to see his uncle hurriedly pull his pant leg back down. Perceptive and quick, as his uncle taught him, Alex caught the flash of red and grimace of pain on Ian's face.

"You're hurt! What happened? When did you get back from your business trip?" He rushed forward to help in some way, but Ian shook his head and led them out of the bathroom.

"I'm fine, Alex. Just a scratch. I got back about an hour ago. How was school?" Ian tried to changed the subject, but Alex was insistent.

"Boring. Are you sure you're alright? Only, lots of times when you get home from trips you have bruises or cuts. Why?" this had been bothering him a lot. But his uncle always brushed him off, reassuring that all was fine. Alex wanted to know, because he worried, and he didn't know why he should need to when his uncle was just doing bank jobs. "Are you really going to meetings for the bank? Why would you get hurt at a meeting?"

"Look, it really was only a trip Alex. You know how clumsy I am. I broke my arm last year getting out of a cab! Remember that?" Expert spy that he was, his chuckles still weren't convincing his sharp nephew. "But I'm not hurt now, so don't worry."

"But… Uncle Ian, I saw blood! There's something wrong- I know it!" His uncle put his hands on Alex's shoulders, looked him in the eye, and firmly denied it all.

"Alex. Nothing is going on. I go to the bank every day, take some boring business trips, and come back to you, or take you with me, when I can. Nothing else. You're only getting yourself worked up. I'm not hurt and there's nothing wrong. Trust me."

And Alex knew he was lying. Again.

-.-

Seven year old Alex smiled at his friend Peng. He had met the boy on his second day in Taipei and now, three weeks later, they spent every free hour together.

"Let's go to the shops, Alex, I'm hungry. I want a suncake." The hyper blond spoke the fastest Mandarin of anyone Alex had ever heard. It had taken a few days for him to understand him very well.

"I can't Peng, not today. I have to run an errand for my uncle. I can meet you at the docks later…"

"Ah, your uncle is old and bossy. What does he have you doing this time?"

"I have to drop this envelope off at the postal office. He said it's really important and to make sure it's sent before noon."

"Let's see it then!" Peng snatched the thick envelope out of Alex's hands and started to open it.

"No! You can't look in it! I have to get it mailed without any scuffs to it or anything!" Alex nervously tried to grab it back, but the American boy was taller than him. Alex knew what was inside, his uncle had told him so he understood its importance. It was a whole bunch of money being sent back to 'the bank' and that it must not be lost or opened.

"Oh, alright. Calm down. I'll help you carry it to the postal office. You're clumsy- bound to drop it in a puddle or something." He turned to head down the street. But Alex caught his arm.

"Really, I think I should carry it. I'm not supposed to let it out of my sight. Just give it back, please?"

"Come on Alex! We're friends- I wouldn't do anything to get you in trouble. You can trust me! Let me carry it and prove it to you."

"Well… I don't know. I really should do it myself…" but Peng was a lot of fun and his only friend here in this foreign city. He wanted to know he had someone to watch his back. "Alright. But we're going straight there!"

"Of course. Let's go!" and Peng took off, skipping down the street, providing his constant chatter.

They were almost to the drop off, heading through a busy low-establishment district, when Peng suddenly took off to the right, down a side alley.

"Oi! Peng, come back! Where are you going?" Alex took off after his friend, his wiry legs flying to keep up with the taller boy. He chased the Asian boy for several minutes, going farther into the dark, back alleys Alex knew he shouldn't be in. Finally, panting, he turned a corner into a dead end. Alex bent double, hands on knees, as he tried to catch his breath.

"Peng… what… what are you… doing?" he looked up at his friend, confused and angry. But the other boy just stared back, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I'm sorry Alex, but I had to. It was the only way and… I could really use this money."

"Wha…?" Alex spun around when he heard footsteps behind him. Four older boys, probably in their teens, were walking menacingly toward him, grinning like predators. He backed several steps deeper into the alley. Peng, his head down, slinked past him, mumbled another apology, and disappeared around the corner.

"Peng! Come back! What did you do?" one of the thugs lunged at Alex, making the boy scramble backwards until his back hit the alley wall. "Peng, I thought we were friends! I trusted you!"

But Peng was gone, and Alex had four, larger and older boys set on giving him a thorough beating. He did the best he could, for being only seven. He'd been taking karate for years already, and Ian regularly drilled him to make sure he could defend himself. So he put up quite the fight; caused a load of injuries back. But an hour later, he huddled behind a pile of boards, having just escaped before he lost consciousness. He was sore all over, his eye was swelling up, and blood still trickled from a cut over his eye.

He knew Ian would be furious and disappointed in him. He had lost the envelope because he wasn't smart or responsible or cautious enough. He hadn't expected something like this, not from Peng… But I should have! And I never should have trusted that traitorous git! He- he- just- argh! He dwelt on the anger and pain of his injuries, because he didn't want to acknowledge the hurt and loneliness of betrayal.

And Alex never wanted to suffer that painful, exposed feeling again.

-.-

Eight year old Alex lay sick in bed, feeling awful. He was rarely ever sick, and it always made him feel helpless, scared, and needy.

After only two days of it, Jack was at the end of her rope. She'd never cared for a sick person before and she was worried that she would get sick too, and not be able help her charge anymore. Ian was scheduled to be back the next morning, but she didn't feel that was soon enough. The worst of it was, her favorite cousin had died from a bad illness, and although she knew Alex would hardly die from this, she couldn't keep the memories and feelings at bay much longer.

Alex watched as she paced in front of his bed. He knew that she couldn't take much more. He wasn't sure quite why, but she seemed very tense and upset. Finally she faced him and drew a deep breath.

"Alex, hun, I… I'm just… I'm going to go on a walk. Take a short breather. I'll be back in a bit, I promise. I just need to get a fresh look on things, okay?"

"Jack… please, stay with me... for a couple more minutes… until I fall asleep. Please?" his pleading eyes stood out sharply in his pale face. He hated being alone when he was sick. But she'd had just a little too much. She needed a break and she knew if she stayed another minute she would never get away.

"I'm sorry Alex. I'll just be a minute. Here," she handed him his favorite book. "Read this and then I'll be back. I promise, okay? Trust me little guy."

He remembered the last time she had said that, a couple months after she had gotten here, he had asked her why she stayed, since all the other caretakers had left after a few days. He said that he liked her a lot, she was nice, and that he didn't want her to leave a lot like Ian and the others nannies did. She had crouched down, gave him a quirky grin, and said, "I'm always gonna be here for ya, kiddo. When you're sad, or need help with homework, or if you're sick and puking your guts out. I'll be there for ya. I promise, okay? Trust me little guy."

Now, he did as she said, he was too tired to argue anyways. He nodded and she was gone.

But she didn't come back. For a week.

Alex spent another day in bed, then, knowing he needed nourishment to get better, he forced himself downstairs, where he made some chicken soup. He camped out on a make-shift bed of blankets and pillows between the kitchen and the bathroom, getting up only when he had to. Four days later, he finally was well enough to go to school. Two days later, his uncle returned from his trip, greeted Alex briefly with a large hug, a wan smile, then headed upstairs and collapsed in his bed. The next morning, a Saturday, Jack showed up, looking tan and rejuvenated, a large, happy smile on her face.

She apologized profusely to Alex, saying she shouldn't have left, but she had needed it, and she wouldn't have been much help here in that state anyways. Privately thinking that Ian had gotten back on time and was a great 'nurse,' she said aloud that Alex was looking great and that he had been cared for so much better than anything she could have done.

It was a misunderstanding, and tragic mistake that neither realized. Jack thought she had only left Alex alone for one night, but Alex thought she had carelessly taken off, unconcerned for his well being.

Although Alex was used to being alone and fending for himself for lengths of time, because of his childhood with Ian, he hadn't expected it from Jack.

And Alex wondered why he hadn't expected it.

-.-

Nine year old Alex turned as he heard Miss Glason, his English teacher, calling his name.

"Yes miss?"

"Alex, dear. Could I talk with you for a moment?" Once they were in her classroom she opened a folder and handed him stapled couple of papers. "I had a chance to read through your oral report for tomorrow, since you were so prompt and turned it in early. But I'm concerned about the content. You always do so well in class… but you can't seem to get the biography papers down. We've had several assignments where all you need to do is write about a true experience you had, but you always make something up."

She gave him a stern look and he was quick to deny it. "But Miss Glason, they are true! I really do those things I say I do. My uncle and I go a lot of places. I'm not making it up, rea-"

"Alex, I understand that you might think you don't do a lot of fun things, so you feel the need to pretend. But, even a simple birthday party or telling about your favorite bedtime story will work. Anything- but it must be true. I can't keep giving you points for the assignment when you don't do it like the other children. It's not fair."

"Miss, I promise, that it's true! Please. I'll re-write the paper on a different experience. But you have to believe that it's true. Even if it doesn't sound like it. Please?"

The woman looked at the boy for a moment or two. Finally she relented. "Alright. I will give you another chance. If you write it again, about… about what you did last weekend- if it's just watching films and eating crisps or something as exciting as visiting the Eiffel tower- I'll believe it. How does that sound?"

"Oh…" Alex was hesitant. "Do I have to write about last weekend? You probably won't believe that…"

"Don't be silly. I will. I promise. And I bet it will be a really great experience to share with the class. If you promise to write the truth, I promise to believe it. Lets trust each other, alright?"

And so he did. He spent hours that night detailing his first trip to Japan and how his uncle insisted they speak only the local language. He told of how exciting it was, how much he loved the colors and how many people there were, he expressed his frustration in trying to pick up and remember enough of the language to communicate with his uncle and his sorrow at having to come back to England for school on Monday. He put in as much as he could, so Miss Glason would know it had really happened. He knew it might seem more of a 'fake' experience than she wanted, but he left out some of the more unbelievable things that happened. And she had said to write the truth. So he did.

The next morning, he stood to read his report aloud to the class, nervously glancing at the teacher. She smiled encouragingly, mouthed I promise, and motioned for him to go ahead.

He never got to finish. Barely half-way through, Miss Glason stood, put a firm hand on his shoulder to silence him, and took the report from his hands.

"Mr. Rider, you really shouldn't lie." She said with an exasperated, unforgiving frown. "All I asked was for you to write about a real, true experience. For once. It's not a hard assignment- everyone else did it. But you just have to fabricate everything, don't you? I don't know why I even bother with you anymore. You won't get points for this assignment. Go to the office for detention."

He hung his head as he left the room, the class snickering and his teacher dropping the fateful report in the rubbish bin. It was only a report. Not that big of a deal, really. But it was the last straw.

And Alex never trusted again.

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AN: I'm going to assume that I'll get some 'bad Jack!' reviews. Hopefully I've properly explained the fact that she's only about 19years old, that she was still mourning and dealing with her cousin's death, that she expected Ian to be with Alex less than 10hrs (in which she thought Alex would sleep) after she left, and that she is new at the whole completely taking care of a kid thing.
Anyhow. Proceed with the feedback, please!