A/N: Chapter Eight! Woot! Woot!

DISCLAIMER: Basically nothing belongs to me. Well, except my iPod…my computer…:continues to list worthless items:

NEVER THE SAME

Chapter Eight: Recovery

Four men approached the bike, and the still body of Alex Rider. Their faces were grim, quiet. They walked carefully, avoiding small patches of fire. A great flame was consuming much of the bike and was unsettling close to Alex's form. One, the leader, shook his head ruefully.

"Lottswich is sure going to get us now," The guard spoke tersely. "He told us not to kill the boy."

"The boy ain't dead! The boy ain't dead!" A second one said nervously, his voice becoming higher and higher. "He's just unconscious! Just unconscious! I can't die! I can't! Ah, shoot, I only took this job for the cash! Lottswich's gonna get us–"

"Shut up!" The leader said harshly. "No person could survive that fall. Now here's the plan: we'll tell Lottswich that the boy is captured, in a more secure cage. He probably won't check on the boy until later tonight. We have some time to get Lottswich off our back, then get out of here. We'll just leave the boy here, he's no use now."

The two silent guards nodded their heads, while the other was shaking, muttering to himself. The flames were now licking the Alex's shoes.

Without another word, the four left, dragging something that would pass as a struggling boy, in case they were being watched.

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Another four men squatted on the forest floor, watching the guards leave. They thought it was peculiar, how they just left the agent, but that only meant one thing.

The agent was dead.

Grimacing, the leader of the pack spoke firmly into his radio:

"K-Unit to Base: agent spotted. Permission to abandon post and collect agent."

The response came without hesitation.

"Base to K-Unit: permission granted."

With a tense nod from the leader, a short, muscular man with square shoulders and dark hair, the group broke apart from the woods; their camouflage suits doing just that, camouflaging them.

They speed-crawled over to the flames. The heat was intense, four sets of eyes watered, making trails down their dirty faces. They were apprehensive, they were expecting the worse.

Their orders were clear. An agent had been missing for over a week. After fine-combing the better half of Britain and the surrounding area, they had a pretty good idea where this agent was. They were planning an all-force, heavy attack, but the agent had made it easy for the SAS.

The agent escaped on a stolen motor bike, had beaten impossible odds, did some of the best maneuverings on a bike many had ever seen, but was gunned down. The agent's condition was feared to be terminal, and the unit closest was to collect the agent.

The four men avoided the flames, which were dying slowing, and were avidly searching for a body.

A quick intake of breath – which could've been identified as a gasp – came from the youngest member of the team. Silently, he pointed down to the unmoving form of Alex, and a thin, fair head man – obviously the medical officer – quickly walked over and bend down.

Tentatively, the man turned over the body – who looked incredibly small – and eight eyes stared.

The agent fit the description they had been given: blonde hair, brown eyes, small, athletic build. But the team had never fit the pieces together.

The fourth member – Eagle – swallowed. "Cub?"

"Mother Mary," Snake breathed. "Déjà vu."

Wolf rolled his eyes. "Not this again."

Snake said nothing, but hastened to start to work on Alex. As he scrambled for a pulse, Eagle whispered,

"What's wrong with him?"

Snake looked up quickly to glare up at Eagle. "I don't know, yet. We got to get him out of this fire. I'm not sure about neck or spinal injuries, so we must be careful. Wolf!"

Wolf walked over, and Snake carefully placed Alex in his awaiting arms. He was much lighter than he should've been. "We'll carry him to the safe house." Snake spoke with authority. "Then we can determine the extent of his injuries."

Snake pulled off Alex's shoes, which were nearly burnt off. His pulse was unsteady. Snake bit his lip worriedly.

The four slowly but surely crept back into the woods, unseen. Phoenix – the newest recruit and Fox's replacement – led, gun at the ready, in front of Wolf (who was carrying Alex) and Snake; Eagle bringing up the rear. The four men were silent, alert.

They walked for roughly ten minutes, as fast as they dared. Snake knew they had to get Alex settled, especially since blood was still flowing from multiple wounds. K-Unit walked down a path Alex hadn't seen before, through a single gate in the electric fence that was unknown and nearly invisible.

Finally, the five arrived at what looked like a fallen-down log. Phoenix expertly walked up to a knot in the wood, pressing his hand upon it. A keypad swiveled around, and Phoenix typed in a ten-digit code. A door opened, and Phoenix went inside. Next went Wolf and Alex, then Snake, then Eagle.

The shack was small, to say the least. There were four rooms, one above, and three below ground. The room on level was just a common room, a kitchen, medical supply room, and a bedroom occupied the remaining rooms.

Quickly, Snake led Wolf to the spare bedroom, which was in fact quite small. They laid Alex on the bed.

Alex looked far worse off than Snake had hoped. Blood flowed from a gash in his head. His right arm was bent in a crude angle. Numerous bruises and scratches stained the boy's body. Upon opening Alex's shirt, Snake winced at the bruised, swelled ribs. Multiple burns from the fire, especially by his feet, marked his skin. Alex looked incredibly thin, his skin was pale. Alex face showed no emotion, it was unsettling blank.

Snake quickly made a splint for Cub's arm, and rubbed salve on the burns. He taped up the ribs as best as he could. One of Snake's main concerns was Cub's head. He now had it wrapped up tightly, but blood still trickled out of the gash.

Snake sighed with relief as he felt along Alex's spine. There were no apparent injuries there. Without invitation, an awkward group of Wolf, Eagle, and Phoenix entered.

"What's wrong with him?" Eagle repeated.

"Broken arm, second degree burns, possibly broken ribs, possible concussion," Snake responded in a robotic, automaton manner. "I can't really tell if there's any spinal or neck injuries without an X-Ray, but I'm pretty sure there isn't any. This kid is lucky. He should've died."

There was a pause, as the words sunk in. Snake shook his head, bewildered. It was so much like the business at Point Blanc.

"I'll be on first watch," Snake volunteered. "Then Phoenix, then Eagle, then Wolf. Two hour watch. If he starts to wake up, grab the meds and me. He needs to wake up."

The other three left without further word. Snake stared at the motionless body.

Come on Cub, he silently urged. Wake up.

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Wolf sat in a chair in the corner of the room, his alert eyes staring, fixed, at Cub.

Cub, you better wake up. You have a duty to your country. Wolf tried to be stern, scornful, but he wasn't pulling it off too well.

Aloud, Wolf said, "Cub, what have you gotten yourself into? Sure, at Brecon Beacons, I thought you were just some rich, bloody schoolboy. Then, at Point Blanc…" His voice trailed off for a moment. "I guess after Point Blanc we kind of all figured at what you were. But, come on!" Wolf punched the chair in frustration. "You're what? Thirteen? Fourteen? You're too bloody young to be working for M16! One of these days, you're going to get killed. You know that? You're too young to die! You're just so stupid, Cub! You –"

Wolf was cut off by a soft groan. In his anger, Wolf had not seen the way Alex's face was beginning to twist in agony, replacing the utterly vacant look he held prior. Alex was turning under the sheets, moaning.

Wolf shook himself out of his daze. "Snake! Eagle! Phoenix!" He shouted, without taking his eyes of Alex. The three immediately ran in, Snake laden down with all sorts of medications.

Snake shoved the meds towards Eagle and took his place by Alex's side. "Cub?" Snake's voice was soft and gentle, as if he were coaxing an actual injured cub. "Cub? Come on, buddy, wake up, will ya?"

Looking up at Eagle, Snake said, "Get those medications ready. When he wakes, he's going to be in some serious pain." Eagle nodded and started twisting off bottle caps.

After about five minutes of Snake's soft talk, Alex's eyes fluttered open. A visual breath of relief escaped from all four SAS men.

Alex looked at first scared, then surprised. Reflexively, he moved away from the men, but stopped suddenly, briefly shutting his eyes.

Recognizing K-Unit, he licked his lips and spoke:

"Lottswich." He spat out the word weakly, his voice scratchy. Eagle handed him some pain killers and water, but Alex only drank the water, discarding the medication.

"Remus Lottswich," he started again. Alex's voice became a bit stronger. "He's created a criminal organization called Rutilius Leo…" Alex told them the entire story, from the alleged school shooting, to his second escape attempt. The four men listened, transfixed on Alex's words.

Alex's eyes brightened, an idea dawning on him. "I got these," his hand shook as he reached into his secret pocket, pulling out the files and flash drive. "I-I don't know what's there, but it-it's something." Wolf took the items, mesmerized.

Snake pulled himself out of his stupor, and peered intently at Alex. "Cub," his voice was still gentle, soothing. "When was the last time you ate something?" That's Snake, always the doctor.

Alex opened his mouth to answer, but suddenly coughed. His good arm immediately snaked across his ribs. "A couple days a-ago, I guess." His voice faltered.

Without further ado, Snake force-fed Alex the pain killers, ordering him rest. As the men turned to leave, Wolf thrust the files and flash drive to Eagle.

"Eagle," he commanded. "Check out this information. Plug in the drive, there's a computer here somewhere." Eagle nodded, and the three left.

Wolf re-positioned himself in the chair. After a few minutes of unbroken silence, Wolf spoke:

"You never cease to surprise me, Cub."

Alex's eyes burst open, suddenly alert. Then, upon realization, Alex relaxed. Wolf stared at him in surprise; he thought the boy was asleep.

Nevertheless, Wolf continued. "It was just like Point Blanc, Cub…You're one strange kid. You wake up, not knowing where you are, how you are, and you spew off some kind of report." He shook his head. "They've changed you, kid." Wolf and Alex alike knew that "they" were M16.

"But, don't you worry. Soon, you'll be hightailing it out of here, in a helicopter flying the Union Jack. You'll get some rest, then you'd go back to school, or whatever." Wolf was trying to make Alex feel better, after all he'd done to him, and failing miserably.

This time, Alex spoke. "No, they won't. It's never over. They always want more…"

Wolf cut off his routine. "Then why don't you say 'no,' kid? You put your own self in this mess. Just leave it. Get out of this business. Come back in, say, ten years or so."

Alex shook his head slightly. "You don't understand. I can't. I have no choice. Besides, I could never…" Cub was clearly exhausted, struggling over his own tiredness and the meds. But, he didn't want to put his guard down. And, that made Wolf feel sorry for him. Almost.

"There's always a choice, Cub!" Wolf shouted, startling Alex and even himself. "God, Cub, I can't see you dead, Cub! Cub…"

"Alex," Cub said weakly, softly.

"What?"

"My name is Alex."

And, with that, Alex's eyes shut unwilling and he drifted…drifted…

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A/N: Grr, this chappie was hard to write. Was Wolf too out of character? Was it completely corny? And, I'm sorry if this is sounding very Point Blanc-y or like other fan-fics. I should stop reading Alex Rider fan fiction, eh:D

No, I couldn't. I'm addicted. So, anyway, please review, tell me your thoughts. Anything you want to see out of this?

Thanks to all my faithful readers and reviewers!