Disclaimer: The sun is shining? True. There is no snow? Sadly, true. The birds are singing? True. I own Alex Rider? FALSE *sadness*

Previously...

Ben knew all too well of the number of times the option of choice had been taken away from Alex. That his life had been chosen for him. Ben wasn't about to join the list of people that took choice away. He wanted Alex to trust him, even if it meant going out on a limb in the beginning.

It was all a matter of trust.


CHAPTER 11 The Book:

Even though he had talked to Ben, and reassured himself that SCORPIA wasn't in the hospital, Alex still found it difficult to relax. Especially since the restraints were still there. It was all he could do to keep from trying to fight against them when he woke up again. A few calming breaths took care of that... for the most part.

A nurse came in to check on him not long after he woke up, with a security guard trailing along behind. Apparently, they weren't taking any chances with him yet. Alex was content to lie there patiently, while the nurse did her checks. She asked him a few routine sounding questions, and he answered with as little information as possible. He wasn't sure if he was going to see Ben again, but he had a feeling that he'd know exactly when his new information came in. For now, he just had to make sure he didn't accidentally contradict it.

The thought of Ben prowling around his flat wasn't exactly comforting, but it wasn't like he had anything to hide. Just the thought of someone else being in there was strange, especially since he wasn't there himself. He wasn't quite sure what had inspired him to trust Ben, but he hoped that it had been a good decision.

In the meantime, he was content to doze off and on throughout the night. Even hours after he had struggled against the restraints, he still felt the after effects. His head was still pounding, and despite the fact that he knew there were plenty of painkillers working their way through his system, the needle-like pains in his side hadn't gone away at all.

Even if he had wanted to attempt to escape again, he couldn't. Before, it had been the adrenaline rush that had pushed him on. There was nothing now, nothing to mask the pain. So, in a way he was glad that he really had nothing to worry about. He was safe for the moment.

He was in a half-awake stage when he heard someone come into his room. He had already seen the doctor once that morning, having answered the basic questions, proving that his short-term memory hadn't been affected by whatever had happened in the accident. He suspected that it was one of the nurses, as they had been coming back at extremely regular intervals to check on him.

He tensed slightly, hearing heavy footsteps come across the tile floor. His heart sped up. It could be anyone. A kidnapper... SCORPIA... He blinked his eyes a few times, before the friendly doctor loomed into view above him.

"Good morning again, Alec." The doctor said.

Alex made a show of waking up, but made sure not to struggle against the restraints. Maybe the doctor was going to finally let him free.

"How're you feeling?"

Alex resisted the urge to glare at the doctor—he had just asked the same questions a few hours earlier. "Fine. Tired." He didn't mention the random pains that were springing up, as he was awake longer. Thankfully, the worst was confined to his head, ribs, and knee.

"That's good." The doctor started his standard checks and tests, and Alex had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. He hadn't thought it would be happening so often, but then, it also seemed like the doctor just wanted to talk to him. A confusing thought.

Right up until Ben's name came up. Then everything made sense. Since he, Alex, was eighteen, he was in charge of his own healthcare, which included who was privy to the information. It seemed that the doctor was in the midst of confirming that he was truly mentally competent. In any other situation, Alex might have been offended that there was a doubt in the first place, but then, he did understand where the caution came from. He had been trying to escape only a few short hours earlier.

Thankfully, whatever the doctor saw, reassured him, and Alex soon found himself being released from the restraints. The doctor of course told him that he was not to get up for any reason whatsoever. It could be permanently damaging to his health, if he hadn't already seriously damaged it already. That was a sobering thought.

Alex flexed his free wrist a few times, enjoying the freedom again. The doctor left for a few minutes, before coming back with another person and some paperwork. Alex carefully read over the entirety of it, making sure that there were no sneaky loopholes in it. While he doubted that Ben had gone back on his word, he couldn't help but be cautious. His caution could be the only thing to save him.

Since there were no warning bells going off in his head, he gave permission for Ben to be his medical contact. It was only temporary, after all. As long as Ben kept his word...

By the time the doctor left, Alex was starting to feel completely worn out again. His head was pounding something fierce, and it was far more comfortable to lie in the bed with his eyes closed. He hated the sickly tired feeling, but he couldn't get rid of it. As much as he wanted to see Ben again—if Ben came by, that is—he knew there was no way he was staying awake any longer.


Alex slept off and on for the rest of the day, marveling over the fact that he could actually move around a little again. He still nearly freaked out every time he woke up, ready for something to jump out at him, but each time it got easier and easier to calm down. The freedom from the restraints also meant that he was disturbed less often, making the sleep that he actually got, more restful. In the span of a day, things were really starting to look up.

Of course, when Ben seemed to randomly show up in the room, Alex was slightly surprised. Just slightly.

"Well, you're certainly looking better."

Alex looked up sharply, catching Ben's eye. He couldn't stop the smile that came from seeing someone familiar again.

"Glad to be free again?" Ben asked.

"Definitely." Alex slipped into his French accent, almost more comfortable with it than using his normal voice. "I can move."

Ben put a hand into his pocket, and pulled out something familiar looking. "Thought you might like having these again, seeing how they're quite prominent on your ID picture. Nice job, by the way, quite realistic. I would ask where you got it, but I doubt you'd tell me."

Alex rolled his eyes, before taking the glasses from Ben. He was glad that he had thought to buy an extra set on one of his days off. He doubted that his original pair had survived the accident. Slipping the glasses on, he once again felt safe behind his alias.

"I came by earlier, but you were dead asleep by the time I made it in." Ben smirked. "Your doctor is a very persistent fellow. He seems to think that I should know where to find your medical records, and that it should be pretty long, since you have so many scars."

Alex groaned. "He expects answers? Why can't doctors just go with what they know already?"

Ben laughed. "Well... I expect he wants to make sure you don't have any sort of complications. You already had some sort of allergic reaction to something when they brought you in, so I suspect they don't want a repeat of that."

"But I'm not allergic to anything." At least... not that he knew of.

"Well, you are now."

"Great." He stared at the door for a few moments, thinking of imaginative ways to get the doctor to bug off. Unfortunately, none of them would work, since he really did need the doctor helping him. "Well, I don't have any records. So what can we do?"

Ben glanced toward the door, before scooting his chair closer to the bed, looking decidedly sneaky. "You can always do what you did with your ID. Shouldn't be too hard."

Alex stared at him. "Are you suggesting... that we forge medical paperwork? You, a government operative?" He couldn't hold back a snort. "What kind of cover story did you give them, anyway?"

"Nephew of deceased colleague, disappeared just after turning eighteen, previously on the receiving end of death threats due to your uncle's position, et cetera, et cetera." He recited it off, before shrugging. "I had to show my badge just to get in to see you yesterday, so I had to push the story a bit. If anyone does notice that your paperwork isn't exactly authentic, I doubt that they'll ask any questions once they see a badge somewhere."

Alex nodded slowly, starting to wonder if Ben finding him wasn't so completely horrible after all. It was probably one of the best things that had happened in the past few days. No, make that the past month. There were so many different angles that he hadn't thought of, different problems that he hadn't been prepared for, but now... the options were easier. "You can do that? You would do that?"

Ben sent him a look. "I might as well help out. Honestly, I think recreating the medical jargon will be the hardest part. It'll give me something to do tonight."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "So just what did you want to explain away?" He wasn't sure he wanted Ben to know about his scars. He didn't particularly want to remember how he got them in the first place either.

"I was reading through the report on your condition... just to clear something up, you were hit by a car, right?"

Alex nodded slowly.

"But you were in some sort of fight before that weren't you? I mean, one of the notes on the file said that some of the bruises shouldn't have come from the car. They were older than the ones that came from the car. And you had already screwed up your knee, since there were no broken bones or more severe damage."

Alex shuddered, trying not to think about it. "Yeah. I... I was heading home when I got hit. It was a bad night."

"You going to tell me what really happened? Or am I just going to have to wait in suspense?"

"I really don't want to talk about it." Or think about it.

Ben sighed, before pulling out one of thickest books Alex had ever seen. The title looked rather bland and boring, but Alex was willing to bet all his money that it was a gadget from Smithers.

Ben noticed the look, and grinned. "Yep, Smithers' work. The man is a genius. It works like a digital reader, just disguised as a regular book. The pages are ultrathin screens, so when I pull up a document, it looks like I'm actually reading the book. It can switch between the regular book page and the current item I'm reading in .06 seconds. At least, according to Smithers it can. I've never actually timed it."

He thumbed through a few pages, stopping about ten pages in from the front. "This page is the menu screen. The start of chapter one, according to this book. From there, I can open almost any report from the bank—as long as it's within my security clearance. The start of chapter two is where I can edit reports, make notes, and even write ones of my own. I haven't had a chance to use that feature though. The third chapter was an added bonus from Smithers. Anything I open, or write down there, can only be accessed by my own security code, no matter how high of a clearance someone has. Smithers could probably break it if he had to, but I don't see him doing that. We can make our notes there, and you won't have to worry about the wrong people accidentally getting a hold of it."

Ben handed him the book, and Alex looked through it, wondering if it was as cleverly disguised as he thought it would be. As far as he could tell, each page felt like regular paper. There was no glossy sheen, like what he normally associated with screens, nor was there a difference in thickness of the pages.

He reached the end of the book, and handed it back to Ben. Ben immediately opened it up to the first chapter, and tapped in some sort of code on the page. Nothing that someone could do by accident either. It changed into an almost familiar looking menu screen, seeming to take inspiration from the current digital readers on the market.

Ben flicked through the next two chapters, stopping on the third—and extra secure—chapter. He tapped in another code, and the screen glowed briefly, before showing one document in the list. Even from the slight distance, Alex could read the title of the document. It was his medical file.

Alex raised an eyebrow at Ben. "Do I even want to know how you got that?"

Ben grinned. "You gave permission for me to be your medical contact. Your doctor went over that in painstaking detail—"

"Much more than you'd like, I presume."

"Precisely. I tuned him out for the most part, swiped the written copy off the database, and read the abridge version at home."

Alex wasn't positive that Ben really did things in that order—hell, if it'd been him, he would have read first, asked questions later—but it didn't really matter anymore. He trusted Ben, to an extent, and it seemed Ben was doing what he could to keep that trust. "So what really happened when I got hit?"

"Didn't your doctor explain?"

Alex gritted his teeth. He knew the doctor had, but then, he had also been floating on a cloud of painkillers for the past twenty-four hours or so. It was nigh on impossible to wade through what the doctor had really said, and what his—albeit, rather vivid—imagination had created "I was half asleep on painkillers, and my concentration was shot. So sue me if I don't listen the first time around."

Ben frowned slightly, before seeming to shrug it off. "I'm sure you've figured out most of what happened. The car hit you, and you survived with a whole lot less injuries than you should have had..." He quelled slightly under Alex's glare. "You tore a ligament in your knee—from before the accident—cracked a bone in your arm, broke six ribs—possibly also from before the accident—and had one nasty head injury. They figured that your violence when you woke up was attributed to that, and it probably was to an extent."

Alex grimaced. Those memories were clear. The fight against the people that were just trying to help him. Even the pain came through in those memories... He wasn't sure if he could really attribute the violence to a head injury, or if it was just his own paranoia that brought the worst out.

"Hey, don't think about it." Ben said. "I read your report, remember? They brought in you in pretty bad condition, so there was plenty of reason for you to be disoriented. Still is." He sighed, before glancing back up at Alex with an amused frown. "Are you really avoiding what we need to do? 'Cause if you don't help me out here, I doubt I can explain away the scars very well."

Alex shook himself, dragging his mind away from the painful memories. "Did they write any down in the report?"

"Burn scars on your back, a few permanent looking scars on your chest—minus one appendicitis scar." Ben fixed him with a steady stare. "I presume that was a cover up for the lovely bullet wound above your heart." He didn't seem too surprised about it, but was—possibly?—annoyed about its existence. "I'm interested to hear your explanation for that one, even if it isn't true."

Alex bit his lip, thinking about it for a moment. Clearly, saying that he was shot in the middle of London as an assassination attempt, wouldn't go over too well. For one thing, he didn't want to tell Ben about it, and for another, an assassination attempt might make the hospital think twice about his security. While that might be all well and good, he needed as little contact with other people as possible.

"It was a gang shooting in France. I got caught in the middle of it. Fifteen months ago, roughly. Er..." He wracked his brains for any information that might make the forgery easier. "Coma for a day, in the hospital for... I think it was eleven days." He shrugged. That was pretty much all he remembered. The next thing that had come after the shooting was the fun with Ark Angel... Going into space...

Ben had already started to write things down in his book. "How long with follow up PT? Any meds that you can remember?"

Alex started fidgeting with the edge of the bed sheet. "Er... no PT—and I never used the meds."

Ben glanced up, incredulous. "Never? As in, you never had any, or just never used them?"

"Never used them."

"That would have been... September, of last year right. And you were out in the field again by November?" It was obvious that Ben was trying to figure out how someone could bounce back from such a potentially fatal wound, so quickly.

Alex shrugged, not wanting to get into the details. He had been back in only weeks after, but that didn't matter at the moment. "Is that enough for that scar?"

Ben read over what he had. "It's not much, but then, the reports shouldn't have too much detail in it. I'll check some other files to make sure the jargon makes sense. Now, what about those burns?"

Alex grimaced again, and proceeded to create stories for the worst of his burns and scars. None of them sounded too farfetched or outlandish. In fact, they could all happen to a fairly normal teenager with horrible luck. Considering he had got out with only those scars, Alex figured that he had great luck.

Ben added some details here and there, and between the two of them, invented injuries that he would have gained as a child that left no scars. Just so it didn't seem like he hit teenage years, and started getting hurt all the time. The fact that he broke his wrist when he was five... wasn't entirely made up either.

Soon enough, they had a reasonable medical history for Alec Pierre. Now it was just up to Ben to finish the file, plant it in some unsuspecting hospital, and then gain a copy of it for the current hospital. Roundabout, but it would work.

After being wide-awake for nearly two hours though, Alex was starting to want to fall back asleep. He could handle being awake, he could force himself if he had to, but it seemed that his body had other plans. His body was still trying to recover, and whatever the doctors were giving him for the pain seemed to have a slightly hypnotic effect as well.

Somewhere in the midst of Ben explaining what his next steps would be—Alex slipped off to sleep.


"You had no trouble killing Muscles. What's to stop you from killing more people?" The voice taunted. "Do you really think your friend Ben would care about you anymore if he knew? If he knew what you were capable of?"

"Shut up!" Alex shouted at the voice, trying to block it out. He couldn't stand it anymore. It was too much.

"You think he really cares? He's just using you, keeping an eye on you. Mrs. Jones wants you back. She'll get you the moment you leave the hospital. Nothing can save poor little Alex Rider from his destiny."

"I'm not going back! I won't! They can't make me do anything."

"Ooh, yes they can. You wouldn't want poor Tom getting dragged into working for them, would you? He has such a bad home life. I'm sure he'd welcome the escape. They can always find something to blackmail him with if he doesn't want to cooperate. Or what about your other classmates. I'm sure an arrangement can be worked out."

Alex shook with rage. The voice was lying. It had to be. They wouldn't use Tom. Tom was safe, now that Alex was gone. Alex was dead.

"You'd think they're safe... wouldn't you?" The voice asked. "MI6 isn't going to let you go so easily. They'll have you back again. And this time, they'll use you as a killer. Promise."


Alex bit his lip to keep the nightmare from affecting him like the ones before the accident had. He couldn't afford to lose it here. Not when the hospital still had him ensnared. I am safe. I am safe. He couldn't stop the shaking though. While the nightmare itself was relatively tame compared to others, he didn't want to think about the meaning behind it.

It had been five days since Ben had found him though, and nothing had happened. There were no signs of agents in the hospital, and none of his doctors had mysteriously changed—personalities or otherwise. While he wasn't actually allowed out of the room, or out of bed, he was able to gather a lot from the nurses and just by listening. There was no unusual activity anywhere.

While his nightmares disturbed him—and it was clear the paranoid side of his mind didn't trust Ben at all—he found it impossible to believe that Ben would turn him over to MI6. Though he had only spent a total of a few weeks around Ben before, the man was just someone he wanted to trust. He had to trust, if he wanted to get out any time soon.

Between the painkillers, incredible fatigue, the beginnings of nightmares, and just all over lack of concentration, he found himself relying on Ben even more. He didn't remember ever feeling this worn out or beat down before, especially not while he was in a hospital. Even after the bullet wound. It seemed that this experience was determined to be all around worse.

In a way, Ben became his reminder system. Reminding him of important things that might have come up during the day. Somehow, Ben always managed to get the condensed version. Though... that might have been due to his daily swiping of Alex's updated record from the hospital database.

The doctor recognized the signs of fatigue, and was quick to assure Alex that it was completely normal. 'After an accident as serious as yours, it would be outrageous to expect you to bounce back immediately.' The doctor had then proceeded to tell Alex that there was a ninety percent chance that he would be fully recovered—as far as the worst of the fatigue went—by the end of the month.

The side effect of the fatigue—therefore lack of concentration—was that Alex almost constantly had the feeling that he was forgetting something important. Something that was just on the edge of his consciousness.

Alex was in the midst of trying to piece together his fragmented day when Ben came in for his evening visit. Same time, every day. It made it easy to make sure he was actually awake for that hour...

"Long day?" Ben asked, taking his usual chair, and pulling out the book.

"I guess." He wasn't really paying close attention to Ben. The doctor had said something important... something important had come up, but he, Alex, had been reluctant with... the treatment? He almost groaned as he tried to piece the fragments of remembered conversation together. It was worse than hearing one side of a phone call.

Ben poked him in the arm. "Listen to me, for now. You can worry about sorting out your thoughts later."

Alex rolled his eyes.

"Your doctor thinks you might have a touch of an anxiety disorder."

Alex sighed. "Great. Another doctor that thinks I'm not right in the head." He thought of the psychologists he had left behind in California, not for a moment feeling any kind of regret. "And he won't even say it to my face."

"It's just a note on your records." Ben said, presumably trying to soothe the imaginary ruffled feathers. "They probably won't do anything, aside from recommending that you see a psychologist." Ben shrugged slightly, before glancing back down at the report. "Not too much of interest on here, except—why don't you tell me about your day?"

Alex groaned. Ben just seemed to love doing this to him. Making him recount all the useless little details that he could remember. It wasn't anything like the games Ian played with him when he was little... Alex crushed that line of thought rather quickly. He wasn't going to think about Ian.

Of course, he could always repeat the basics back to Ben. The unimportant information that the doctor relentlessly had him repeat back to him whenever he stopped by. Where are we? A hospital in Hammersmith. What day is it? Monday, the thirteenth of December, going on two weeks since the accident. Why are you in the hospital? Got hit by a car. Then there was Alex's personal favorite. When's your birthday? August. August what? August 22nd. And—there would be a sigh there—what year were you born? 1992.

The doctor definitely got on his nerves at times...

"Alex." Ben usually called him Alec, since they could never know for sure if they were truly alone. So when he did use Alex... well, it was almost always when he was slightly annoyed. "Quit staring at that wall and talk to me. I don't have all evening."

Alex shook himself momentarily, before glancing back at Ben. "Nothing much happened today. The nurses came by a couple times. I think they said something about my blood pressure being high, or something."

Ben nodded. "Side effect to one of the medications you're on. They're thinking about switching it. It might also make some of your anxiety symptoms go away."

Alex had to stop himself from snorting. The anxiety most definitely wasn't going away. At least, not until he was out of the hospital. "The nurse chattered at me during lunch, but I think she was just making small talk. I wasn't really paying attention, so it's just fuzzy memories. There was something with the doctor though..." He thought hard for a moment, lining up the fragments in his head. Knee... injury... can't walk... Oh. He swallowed, wondering why something as important as that hadn't caught his attention sooner. "You heard about that I suppose. They have to fix my knee, or I won't be walking for a long time."

Ben sent him the barest hint of a smile. "Yeah, I heard. Or rather, read. The doctor was busy before I came in here, so I took the opportunity to skim the updated report. I'd say bad luck, but when you think about it..."

"It could have been worse." Alex finished for him. "I know. But still... I don't like the thought of them knocking me out again." He shuddered slightly. After his history with sedatives and tranquilizers, he had a perfectly good reason to be wary of more sedation. In those moments of vulnerability, anyone could do anything. In a way, it was worse than restraints. At least with restraints he had some hope of escaping if it all went bad.

"Don't think like that." Ben said, seeming to read his thoughts. "It's a normal hospital, with normal people. And it'll only be for a couple of hours. Then you'll be back to your wonderful land of painkillers." He grinned, before ruffling Alex's hair. "It's not like you have very many options. I mean, without this, you'd probably be walking with a crutch or something."

"I still will be." Alex pointed out. The doctor had said a minimum of six weeks on crutches, before he could even think about walking on his own. Six weeks. It screwed up so many plans. Like getting out of the country the moment he was released from the hospital. He wouldn't be capable of any running for... months.

Ben looked slightly sympathetic. "That'll be temporary though." He sighed. "Just think of it this way, you've been through worse and managed to bounce back. I don't know details, but I'm sure this is pretty minor compared to some things." There was a pointed glance to Alex's chest.

Alex snorted, before adjusting his position on the bed again. He had to admit, if it was the difference between walking sometime in the future, and never walking—unsupported—again, he was going to have to take his chances.

Ben stood up, snapping his book shut. "Think of it this way, in two days, you'll be significantly closer to being able to leave here." He ruffled Alex's hair again, before turning to leave. "Maybe I'll bring you a book tomorrow... goodness knows you need something else to concentrate on."

Alex just glared at him.


A/N: Another of those chapters that took a lot of different edits. I think I changed the main point of the chapter about five times... and I decided not to do something that would be unbelievably cruel to Alex in this chapter. He's going to have enough problems in the next few chapters anyway... Nuf said. You'll find out soon enough. ^_^

Also, you might have noticed that I placed the 18 year old Alec's birthday in 1992. I know that Alex was originally born in 1987, but since that would make the current year of this story 2002, I figured that wasn't such a good idea :D I'm a stickler for dates, so this is a sort of disclaimer... the current year is the end of 2010 and Alex was born in 1995.

This is a quick update, so I won't say much more, aside from this—Please review! Thank you all so much!

S.B.L.