Chapter 34, Mourning Distractions
A/N Sorry, this chappie is really just filler fluff. The next one is much better, but it also has Snakehead spoilers, so I don't know if people will want to read it. Tell me if you want the next chappie up (I have it written already) when you review or when you PM me. If I don't get at least 5 reviews saying 'no, don't put the next chappie up yet' I'll upload it regardless. Sorry!
Disclaimer: Hahaha! Anthony Horowitz had to run some errands; he can't throw rocks at me! Alex Rider is all minnneeee!!! O shit, he's back and he's throwing bricks now!!
It's not mine, I swear it! Happy Anthony?!?!
Alan Blunt wasn't surprised; he'd known that even if Alex had tried to give up, Yassen would have stopped him. Alex knew too much for the Russian to allow him to come back to MI6. Still, Blunt had hoped that his plan would work. Now, he wasn't so sure. Maybe Tulip had been right; maybe he should have brought Ariel in to this.
Shaking his head, Blunt turned to face his helpers. They were either avoiding his eye or looking at the blood soaked body at their feet.
"Clean this up; I don't want anything in the media." He ordered before leaving the roof.
The other men did as they were told; they knew not to argue when their boss was in a bad mood.
Alex woke in a car. The Lexus, he slowly realized. Even though he was still half-asleep, Alex wondered why they were still using the Lexus; surely it would be reported stolen soon? He decided that the whole thing was too hard to figure out, maybe later. He was more interested in seeing what was going on and why he'd been asleep.
As he stirred, Alex's head gave a painful throb. It felt like someone had smacked with him with a sledgehammer. Alex started to wonder why his head hurt, but then, it all came back. Jack was dead.
The sudden surge of memory overwhelmed him, Alex gave a low groan. Everything was dark and cold, Alex felt horrible, even worse then when Ian had died. Someone spoke, but it was in Russian and not directed at him. Alex opened his eyes.
He was in the back of the Lexus; Erin was sitting next to him. Yassen was driving, obviously. Erin was looking at him with an expression of mingling concern and wariness. She said something again, but in English this time.
"You're awake then. That's good."
Alex didn't answer; he just shook his head and pushed back the tears. He wasn't going to cry, he'd never been the emotional kind. Not in that sense anyway. He weakly pushed himself up, so he was sitting up properly. He could see now through the window, they were not near the Thames anymore, he didn't really know where they were, just that they were still in the main part of London.
It was hard to concentrate, and not just because of the smothering sadness; his head was killing him. Shakily, Alex put a hand up to his forehead, he could feel dried blood. With a start, he remembered his fall from the ladder. He'd hit his head.
Erin had noticed the gesture, she bit her bottom lip.
"Sorry about that, I didn't mean to hurt you." She sounded unusually timid as she apologised. Alex knew she was worried about him, but he didn't care.
"Why did you come and help me?" He asked her instead. Erin shook her head.
"I didn't, it wasn't my idea."
No wonder she sounded so scared, Alex thought bitterly, because she knows that she was too much of a coward to help.
That left Yassen.
"Why did you do it?" Alex asked the Russian, trying not to sound as angry as he felt.
Yassen didn't reply, and Alex felt his temper flare accordingly.
"Why?!" He demanded furiously, "Why'd you stop me from helping Jack?!"
Yassen didn't look away from the road as he answered.
"I didn't want them to capture you, I didn't know if they would kill you or not."
Alex didn't believe for a second that that was the real reason the Russian had did what he had. He believed that the real reason was that Yassen hadn't wanted MI6 to get him and find out information about what Yassen was doing. It was a highly cynical suspicion, but not an altogether untruthful one. However, what Alex didn't know was that Yassen actually had been concerned about him, and that was he main reason he'd come back.
Erin knew that Alex was angry and upset; she didn't say anything and neither did Yassen. Both of them left Alex to sit and mourn alone.
Alex sat slumped against his seat, staring out the car window. Memories of all that he and Jack had done together flashed by, she'd been like a big sister to him and since Ian's death, his only family. Now she was gone. The memories kept coming.
Seven year old Alex playing hide and go seek with Jack on Christmas Eve. Alex hiding under his bed, trying not to giggle as Jack hunted around the room for him, calling his name every now and again. Alex laughing as Jack found him and tickled him.
Alex shook himself, trying not to let the memories overrun him, but it was a battle in vain.
Eight year old Alex falling from a tree and cutting his leg open. Alex crying and looking for Ian, only to limp into the house and discover a note saying he'd left on a 'business meeting in Germany' and wouldn't be back for a day. Jack finding Alex crying and bleeding and gathering him up and attending to the painful wound with a gentle diligence that Ian had lacked.
Despite the misery, Alex found himself thinking about Ian. The man had been loving in his own way, but he'd never been there. Not in the day to day manner of a proper caregiver. It had always been Jack who'd been there for him, who'd done everything.
Jack watching eleven year old Alex at his soccer game and cheering him on. He always said it was embarrassing, but he secretly liked it; he liked someone being there to encourage him. He just wished Ian could be there more.
Alex shook his head, what was the matter with him? He'd been through enough to know how to bury the sadness and get on with things. So why was he so out of control now?
Fourteen year old Alex listening to the news of the death of Ian. Jack finding him an hour later, sitting on the couch, staring into space. Her hugging him and shaking him from his numb, dead trance.
Alex put his foot down with that memory. He didn't want to think about what had just happened, it was too much torture. He turned his mind to other things, anything other then Jack's death.
Oddly enough, it worked. A strange, but dire question came to mind, one that demanded an answer. Now that he had absolutely no one, what was Alex going to do? Where would he live? What was he going to do about MI6?
Alex didn't have the answers to any of those questions, and they tore at him the same way thinking about Jack did, so he stopped thinking altogether. Alex closed his eyes and gratefully let sleep take him.
The apartment wasn't enormous, but it was clean and nice enough. It was no million dollar penthouse, but Yassen had already said that such things were no good for those who wanted to stay hidden. Anyway, the apartment was expensive enough. Unless you were a Russian assassin who'd set the place up as a safe-house and used various methods of dubious legality to obtain the place very cheaply.
Alex looked around the main living area of the apartment with a detached numb sort of interest. It was contemporarily furnished, but not in the cold, stainless steel covered manner Alex would have expected. The main living area shared a wall-less space with the kitchen, there were two bedrooms, each off to the side of the living area. Both had an ensuite.
"This is better then the place in Berlin." Erin remarked to Yassen, taking a tentative step forward. The Russian smiled.
"The place in Berlin was a dump." Yassen agreed, "I was happy to be out of there. Still, that job payed well."
Then, both of them glanced at Alex as if suddenly remembering he was there. Alex shrugged.
"It's nice." He said dully, standing in the middle of the room, looking a little like a lost child. Erin glanced at Yassen; the Russian shook his head at her, saying something in Russian. Erin made a face, but seemingly didn't see any point in arguing, she looked away.
"Are either of you hungry?" Yassen asked. Erin nodded and Alex did likewise, although he didn't really know if he was actually hungry. Just imitating Erin would do for now, it made things simpler.
"I need to get some things, I'll get food." Yassen said to them, "I think there are things like coffee and cups though. I only threw the perishable food out when I was last here."
Erin looked unhappy about this, so Yassen looked over at her.
"You're going to go grocery shopping looking like that?" Erin asked, pointing at her Father.
It was a valid point; Yassen still had blood on his clothing from when Alex had cut his head open. Not to mention his face was half covered in cuts and bruises from MI6 interrogation.
Yassen frowned as he looked down at his shirt.
"I left a jacket last time I was here," he said eventually, "I always leave a few things. I'll just wear that over everything. I can't do anything about my face though; I'll just say a cat attacked me or something."
Erin looked like she was tempted to both groan and laugh.
"Do you seriously think anyone will believe you when you say a cat did that to you?" She asked incredulously.
Yassen looked at her sourly.
"I didn't mean that literally," He said frostily, "I meant that I'd just make an excuse. Your lack of faith in me is amazing."
Erin smirked.
"Are you really surprised by my lack of faith?"
Yassen's good humour vanished abruptly. He looked faintly troubled as he headed to the bedroom door on the right with the car key in hand.
"No, I'm not surprised."
Then, he reappeared wearing a long, black coat and left the apartment, the door shutting behind him.
Erin turned to Alex; he hadn't moved from where he stood in the middle of the room. She frowned and walked over to him.
"Hey, are you alright?" She asked, reaching out gently. Alex turned around and looked at her, more miserably then bitterly.
"What sort of question is that, given the circumstances?" He asked, his eyes cool and speculative. Erin sighed.
"You're right, I'm sorry." She said, "That was dumb of me."
Despite himself, Alex felt a twinge of guilt when he saw how bad Erin felt. He couldn't deny how he felt about her, even in the depths of misery.
"It's okay." He muttered, "You didn't mean it."
Erin looked unhappy, Alex guessed that she wasn't used to seeing other people upset; the girl had been almost totally alone for the last five years.
"Umm, I'm going to have a coffee, do you want one?" She asked awkwardly, glancing at the kitchen as if expecting inspiration to come from there. Alex shrugged.
"Sure, why not?" He sighed, "No milk and no sugar."
Erin pretended to be horrified.
"No sugar?" She gasped, "That's a sin!"
Alex grinned back.
"Well, just call me the Devil then!" He smirked, "I hate sugar in coffee!"
Erin laughed and walked into the kitchen. After searching for a couple of moments, she managed to find a couple of canisters with sugar and coffee. There was an electric kettle plugged in already, Erin filled it with water quickly.
Looking around the kitchen, Alex found one crucial part of his morning routine missing.
"No tea?" He asked, a little disappointed. Erin shook her head.
"My Father hates tea, coffee only I'm afraid."
Alex nodded, and then asked something that had been bothering him for a little while.
"How come you never call him 'Dad' or even 'Yassen'?" He asked curiously, watching the blonde girl as she switched the kettle on. Erin turned and frowned at him.
"'Dad' is so infantile," She said, "And besides, can you seriously see anyone referring to him as that? I don't think so."
Alex frowned as well and leaned against the kitchen countertop.
"So call him Yassen, it's weird listening to you talk about him and never call him by name."
Erin shrugged.
"Sorry, it's a bad habit I got into. He doesn't care what I call him so long as it's not 'Daddy' or 'Asshole'."
Alex laughed and Erin smiled. For a second, both of them were silent, wrapped up in their own thoughts. Then, the kettle made a clicking noise and the little red light turned off. Erin silently picked it up and quickly poured the water into both her and Alex's mug. She handed Alex's mug over; he accepted it with a nod.
Alex wasn't big into coffee, but he was tired. He didn't want to sleep, so this was the easiest way of staying awake he could think of. Still, he couldn't help but grimace as he knocked back the hot liquid. He noticed Erin was wincing too.
"No milk," She explained, noting his curious expression, "I can't stand it without milk."
Alex smirked and put his empty mug down.
"What now?" He asked, suddenly bored. Alex wanted something to do; he knew that if he wasn't busy, thoughts of Jack would come. That was something he wanted to avoid for as long as possible.
Erin shrugged.
"I dunno, what do you want to do?"
Alex shrugged as well, feeling despair creep up on him.
"Anything!" He declared, trying (struggling more like it) not to sound as pathetic and desperate as he felt.
Erin pursed her lips thoughtfully.
"Well, we can't leave the building." She said, "But no one said anything about not leaving the apartment, did they?"
Alex nodded.
"No, no one said anything about that." He agreed, not altogether sure where this was going.
Erin looked suddenly delighted.
"I have an idea!" She sang, making Alex wince. Erin was pretty, smart, witty, athletically endowed and a million other things, but under no circumstances was she a singer.
"Really?" Alex asked weakly, trying not to pay attention to the feeling of foreboding that was trickling through him. "What sort of idea?"
As much as he hated to admit it, Alex thought this might have actually been one of Erin's better ideas. The activity he was currently engaged in was diverting, required grace (something Alex was surprised to discover he had) and athletic ability and was, dare he even say it, fun.
With that in mind, Alex took a deep breath and launched himself from the top of the staircase. After hanging in mid-air for a second or two, he fell to the floor of the landing in the concrete stairwell. Normally, this would be an extremely debilitating impact, but Alex and Erin had been prudent enough to plan for this. Well, Erin had anyway, Alex had thought she'd gone insane when she dragged the mattress of the bed from the bedroom in the apartment (not Yassen's room obviously, neither Alex nor Erin were suicidal enough to even dream of entering that room).
Even with the mattress in place though, the impact still knocked the wind out of Alex. Sucking in a mouthful of air greedily, he rolled of the mattress. Just in time too, the thump of Erin landing on the mattress came less then a second after he'd vacated the bedding. She seemed to have been taken by surprise by the impact, because she also rolled off the mattress with a shocked sounding yelp.
Laughing, Alex stumbled to his feet. Erin did likewise.
"That almost hurt, we could've injured ourselves!" She gasped, hardly able to get the words out for giggles. Alex nodded.
"Yeah, let's do it again!"
For almost an hour, they played like that, taking turns to jump from the top of the stairs and onto the mattress, laughing hysterically at each other. Eventually, almost inevitably, it became more competitive, to the point where the fun was replaced by silence and it was just Alex and Erin focusing intently on landing as close to the centre of the mattress as possible.
Finally, Alex tired of the game and slipped away, wanting to be alone. He did so just as Erin was getting ready for her turn, she never noticed his disappearance. Erin lined herself up, and leapt forward yelling,
"Beat this Alex!"
Unfortunately for her, the continuous impacts with the mattress had pushed it forward again and again to the point where it was right on the edge of the landing. Erin jumping on it pushed right over, and her kinetic energy forced it forward down the stairs. Shocked and dismayed, Erin could only scream and cling to the mattress as it flew down the steep staircase. At one point, the mattress hit the banister, and it was flipped around, so Erin was zooming precariously down a staircase backwards. Suddenly, there was a shout and the mattress stopped abruptly. Someone had grabbed the mattress, she felt a little bad because she seemed to have nearly knocked them over. With a moan of relief, Erin slumped on the mattress.
"Do I even ask?" Someone asked, from a spot vaguely above her head.
Erin titled her head back and groaned. Yassen was standing in front of her, carrying several large plastic bags and wearing an expression that was both annoyed and amused.
"Depends, do you want the truth, or a lie?" Erin asked weakly, getting to her feet. Yassen thought about it for a second.
"The truth." The Russian said wryly, as Erin picked the mattress up.
"Then you don't ask." Erin grunted, dragging the mattress back up the stairs. Yassen followed her with a slight smile, pushing the other end of the mattress up with his foot every now and then.
"Where's Alex?" Yassen asked suddenly, as Erin stumbled on the stairs. Erin straightened up quickly. She looked over her shoulder to the landing where she'd last seen him.
"He's right…" Erin noticed Alex was gone. "Well he was right there." She said lamely, dropping the mattress on the landing, "I don't know where he is now."
Yassen sighed in exasperation, but didn't even bother. He simply picked the mattress up himself, and shoved the shopping bags into Erin's arms.
"I'll put this away," The Russian said, brandishing the mattress, "You put everything else back in the apartment, I'm going to find Alex."
Without another word, Yassen strode away. He was more worried then he let on, but he had a sneaking suspicion where Alex would have gone.
So, this wasnt one of my better chapters, i'll admit that, it was more so i could warn you about the Snakehead spoiler's in the next chappie. They're not massive ones, they're more just small pieces of speech and memories from the book. Oh, never mind, there is a revelation in the next chappie that's not until the end of the book...Damn, thats bad.
Anyway, if you don't want the next chappie put on, tell me! Otherwise, you might read it and be mad coz it's got spoilers in it!
R 'n' R as always!
TTFN from vampassassin