GUESS WHAT? You guys are officially my heroes. Wanna know why? This story has officially broken the 50 review mark! It's my first story to do so, and I just wanted to thank you for that :D I would have posted this earlier, but I got distracted by Potter Puppet Pals. I MEAN EVERY WORD I EVER SAY EVER. BECAUSE I'M HARRY POTTER. xD So, I left the last one on a teeny weeny bit of a cliff hanger, so here ya go :) If I owned Alex Rider, Blunt would have been killed off long ago...

Fox

Blunt had called and offered me the chance to be a part of the Alex recovery mission, and I agreed. Of course I agreed, knowing MI6, even if they got him out okay, he'd be dead by the end of the journey. Someone had to look out for him. Once we finally arrived on the random island chosen to be the new home of Scorpia, we split into our respective task groups. Group A was supposed to find and contain the leaders of the program, group B was supposed to locate any plans or useful documents, group C was supposed to rescue Alex, and D was supposed to trash the place and arrest anyone they saw. I had insisted on being part of group C. In fact, I was group C. They hadn't assigned anyone else to the job.

I ran down the hallways, following the tracer that would lead me to Alex. The bad feeling that had been building in the pit of my stomach intensified as the rooms I passed got darker and less clean. Soon I got close enough that the tracer was useless, and I stuffed it in my bag, opening all of the doors around me to try and find him. My search got more frantic with each empty room. Then I pushed open a final door, to find him curled up in a ball in the corner. He cringed away from the light in the corridor, and I ran over to him.

"Alex!" I reached out to touch him. "Alex, can you hear me?"

He pulled away. "No. Please..."

"Alex. It's Fox."

"I give up. Please, I'll tell you. Ask me anything, I've changed my mind."

What could they possibly have done to him, the most stubborn person I knew, to reduce him to this? I reached down to pick him up, wincing as he cried out. "Alex, I'm not going to hurt you."

"But I will. He's made a fool of Scorpia one too many times." A man stood in the doorway, blocking our exit. He was holding a gun, and it was pointed straight at Alex. I quickly put him down and moved in front of him. The man sneered and moved as if to shoot. I ducked under his arm and knocked the gun out of his hand. He lashed out at me, knocking me backwards. Catching my balance, I tried to kick him, but he blocked it. Right away I knew I was in trouble. The man was clearly stronger than I was, and he didn't need to worry about protecting someone in the middle of a fight. The only positive aspect I could think of was that the gun seemed to have disappeared. He began to overpower me, and I was sure that I was going to die.

"Alex. Run. Now." I grunted the words while blocking a punch. The next one hit me right in the nose, and I stumbled back into the wall. He was about to attack again, but I couldn't move fast enough. I braced myself for the blow, but I heard a crack, and it never came. Opening my eyes, I gaped at the scene in front of me. Alex was slumped against the wall next to me, staring at the gun in his hands with horrified eyes. In front of him lay the man, bleeding all over the floor and Alex, The gun fell to the floor with a clatter, and Alex's head fell forward into his hands. I leaned down and picked him up, then stepped over the man's body and began the search for the way out.

When we were out in the daylight, Alex's injuries became almost too apparent. Every inch of him was covered with bruises, and his face was swollen and bleeding. His clothes were in tatters, with his ribs sticking out from underneath the ripped shirt he was wearing. There was a dense mass of bruises around his ribcage, in the shape of a boot. The sight physically sickened me. Despite everything I knew about Scorpia, I just couldn't understand that someone could do that to a child.

A medic was waiting for us in the helicopter I had insisted we get in case we needed to airlift any injured agents. I wasn't looking at him, but I heard a quick intake of breath when he saw the extent of Alex's injuries. People were climbing in and out, and I could sense them staring at me, but I didn't care. I just held tight on to Alex's hand and prayed for him to be okay. His clothes were covered in blood, but I couldn't tell if it was his or that of the man who he shot.

Alex shifted slightly. "F-Fox?"

"Yeah, Alex, I'm here."

He opened his eyes slightly. "Are you crying?"

I reached up and sure enough, there was moisture rolling down my cheeks. "Um... no?"

"Yes you are. Stop that, it's a bit pathetic." Alex's voice was shaky and cracked, but it was still Alex. Then he frowned. "Fox? Make it stop. Make the pain stop."

I looked up at the medic frantically. "You heard him! Please, do something."

"There's not much I can do except put him under until we get back to London." He shrugged apologetically.

"Do it. Please." Shrugging again, he slid the needle with the anaesthetic into Alex's arms, and I felt him relax as it took effect.

That helicopter ride was one of the worst things I have ever gone through. The medic pointed out that the hand I was clutching had a broken finger on it, and I hurriedly dropped it. I spent the majority of the journey just kneeling next to Alex's stretcher, waiting for us to arrive in London, where I could get Cub proper help. On the way there, I made thousands of promises. Some were to God, some were to myself, but the majority were to Alex. If he makes a full recovery, I'll never drink another can of beer. If he gets better, I'll start going to church. If you heal, I'll never make you do another boring English lesson. If you end up alright, we can cook whatever you want, no matter how gross it is. If you make it, I'll get you away from MI6, forever. If, if, if... I fell asleep still thinking of if's and promising anything and everything I could think of.