Chapter 31: An Auspicious Start to a Wonderful Trip

Alex sighed as Ian woke him at way too early in the morning to be conscious o'clock. His bags were, thankfully, packed. Alex and Ian walked silently down the stairs and met Crawley in the kitchen. Alex suppressed a yawn. "You're up early, Crawley."

Ian went to get his bags. He'd been helping Alex with his. Crawley glanced around. "Right, so...um, if you run into trouble, call me. Ian never uses his back-up for some reason."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I will." He refrained from the sarcastic remark about the abilities of Ian's colleagues that was threatening to slip from his lips. The two exchanged a final look as Ian reentered the kitchen. Alex noticed something in Crawley's gaze. There was something raw, something desperate there. Alex had a feeling if he called, the man would find a way to send backup. He and Ian ate a light breakfast. It tended to reduce the puking involved with fatigue. Alex knew from experience eating anything heavy on less than six hours of sleep tended not to end well for him. Not that he'd had less than eight most nights, but still it was always a good thing to keep in mind. As they stepped out the door to drive to the station, the first grey of dawn was breaking out over the horizon. Alex had a feeling this wasn't going to be the last early morning he would be involved in for a while. When they finally got to the station, Ian found out that their train was delayed. The place was creepily quiet, with only a few other passengers nearby. That had gotten there after the night rush, but before the overnight trains pulled in for the morning. Suffice to say, Ian was already feeling twitchy. Crowd cover was an advantage, after all.

"What an auspicious start, Ian." His uncle twitched at that. Then, the man rolled his eyes.

"It's too early for you to be a sarcastic shit, Alex," Ian stated, his lips twitching at Alex's indignant expression. Too early, his ass. This was totally Ian's fault.

"It's never too early to be a sarcastic shit, Ian. Besides, aren't you, as the responsible adult, supposed to be watching your language?" Alex was smirking as he quipped back. He was going to find a way to drag John's ass back from the grave and punch him for having passed on his genes. Why did Alex have to be mouthier in the morning?

"Shut up, Alex." He knew he should have come up with a better comeback. Alex grinned.

"Moi? Pourquoi?" Ian rolled his eyes.

"You know why, brat." Alex looked like the cat that got the canary.

"Mais mon oncle, mon coeur est brisé." Ian groaned.

"Don't call me uncle. It makes me sound old. And it is way too early for your sarcasm in French." Alex smirked.

"But you were the one who insisted I learned it." Ian didn't have a reply for that. He decided that this round went to Alex. It was way too early in the morning for this. He sighed. And wondered if time traveling to preemptively murder his brother was possible. Probably, not. At least the train tickets were about to be sorted. Being stuck in a train station with a sarcastic Alex for four hours would drive anyone homicidal. Including Blunt and Jones.

Alex was starting to wonder if Crawley and Jones had some sort of secret fetish involving his uncle and pre-dawn traveling arrangements. The past few days were taking their toll. That and the fact that Ian was not really letting up on either his lessons or his secrecy involving their traveling plans. It should be a surprise, Alex. Yes, Ian. Did he mention how much he hated 'surprises'? Didn't want to Alex about his illegal people-smuggling buddies, more like. Who did Ian think he was fooling? Alex was eleven (mentally seventeen, but he was going to ignore that), not stupid. The man made sure Alex knew enough civics to know that air travel to Afghanistan was restricted (and probably the other kinds as well). Alex mentally suppressed his groan as Ian once again went over the different situations and which greetings to use in them in Pashto and Dari. The man knew he was eleven, right? Then again, it wasn't like high expectations were a new thing for him. Meeting them was. Before, he had struggled more often with Ian's lessons. He wondered how his uncle had gotten them out of the family reunions last time. Were they even alive at that time? Alex could only wonder. Speaking of time traveling, he wondered how much of his thought process was biologically driven. His focus was, not lacking, but not what he knew it could be in a few years. His emotions were more volatile and at times difficult to control. Was all that really based on biology? Not to mention he hadn't really contemplated the whole redoing being a teenager. It was kind of difficult to think about (not to mention the whole puberty thing). He knew, intellectually, which people were attractive, but it wasn't the same as the actual attraction. Alex actually did groan at the thought about what the redo could do to his mental development. He needed a psychiatrist to discuss this with. Then again, he could probably use one in general. Why couldn't he have at least gotten his medical degree before being shot?

Alex sighed and supposed that nothing was stopping him from reading the medical texts he brought from his 'underground library'. The medical texts had ranged from translations of ancient Greek books to traditional Chinese medicine to 'modern' texts from within the last ten years. He had discovered that the base had been shut down only four years before from the dates on the recordings and his estimates on the timeline of Allen's death and the time it took the average base to shut down (he'd paid attention in those SAS classes, supposedly it was good to know for strategy purposes). At any rate, he'd packed the ones that were (actually pretty helpfully) marked as being accurate (no matter the origin). He could confuse himself with the history of medicine later. Plus, he needed to understand this stuff to get a general idea of what his own medical file might contain in the future and what exactly they had done in the experiments. As much as he hated to admit it, Grim had a point about him being accident prone. Ian couldn't always be around and when he'd found out about how much MI6 had neglected his welfare he was not inclined to trust any of them or their doctors for more than basic care. Cough shot to the chest and all his injuries he'd had to attend school with, cough. At any rate, battlefield and long-term care were important. Alex cracked open the first one and was glad he'd brought a dictionary of medical terms. Time to get started.

Ian walked in on his four-book study-fest of fun three hours later. He just looked at Alex and looked at the books and looked at him again with a raised eyebrow. "Is there something you need help with?"

Alex knew Ian would actually help him. The problem was that this would give away a lot of his secrets he wasn't sure he wanted to put into the hands of the man. As much as he loved Ian, his uncle did work for MI6. "Yes?"

His uncle rolled his eyes. "You don't have to be too proud to ask for-" The man suddenly changed his sentence once he registered what Alex was reading. "Where the hell did you get advanced medical texts?"

Crap. Why couldn't Ian be his usual selectively observant self? Then again, this was more blatant in terms of the stuff Alex actually had pulled since his jaunt through time. These weren't from the family library either. "They're not illegal, Ian."

He decided not to mention the other actually illegal texts he owned. Like Three's torture manual or the other Malagosto books that had been surprisingly easy to locate in the deep web. He had most of them memorized, but it never hurt to have an actual way of knowing and finding said knowledge in case he got caught red-handed. It was almost like they were encouraging education - for assassins and interrogation experts. That would be a fun conversation. His uncle didn't seem to be in the mood for games. "That doesn't answer my question."

Ian was mentally wondering where on earth Alex could have gotten the books. They were college textbooks, but there wasn't a place to get them that was convenient. He wasn't sure they'd sell college textbooks to kids either. Then again, Alex had taken a random trip to Switzerland. Travel was probably not an issue. "Would you drop it if I told you I coincidently found a stash of books in the neighborhood nobody was using?"

Alex managed to get out. It was short notice, ok? "No."

Ian pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled sharply. "And since when did you-" Ian cut himself off. "Fenrir's walks." He leveled a glare at Alex. "Do I need to add more study items to your list?"

Alex groaned. "No. And I was only exploring, Ian. Exercise is good for people, you know." Alex picked up the first book and moved to close it. "Besides I like having time for things I want to study."

Ian sucked in a breath. "Don't. I'll help you. It's what I'm here for."

He sat on the bed next to Alex and pulled his nephew closer, so they could both read at the same time. "We can talk about the other things later." They both turned their attention to the medical textbooks in front of them.

Dinner was awkward and late. But mostly awkward. Ian was looking at him expectantly. Alex was trying to come up with an explanation that didn't end with him being confined to the house. He was pretty sure I broke into a deserted underground base was not going to make Ian particularly happy nor was It's totally the dog's fault. Ian was now giving him the look of doom. Alex was pretty sure he'd met less terrifying insane megalomaniacs. Of course, Ian was scary because he was sane. Alex was now checking the room's escape routes. He was pretty sure Ian had deliberately got one too high for him to safely exit through the window. Alex glanced around one last time before Ian decided to break the ice. "Alex…"

Alex sighed. "It's a secret. I'm not hurting anyone."

Ian looked hurt. "Alex, you're eleven. I'm worried."

Alex sighed. This wasn't about Ian. This was about hiding his abilities from everybody. He felt like laughing madly. Ever since Alan Blunt had entered his life, he'd been running. "It's not dangerous."

He hoped. The computer could be, but then, so could the books. Not that he was planning on giving Ian the whole story. "I don't want to threaten you Alex, but I will if I have to."

Ian said in a firmly resigned tone. "Damn it, Ian." Alex felt a flash of rage. He was tired of being threatened. "Take no for an answer, please."

Alex softened it from what he really wanted to say. "Why?"

The man whispered now. Ian's eyes were pleading. Alex felt a familiar ache in his chest. He just didn't trust that Ian wouldn't go to MI6. Alex knew on some level that the man was leveraging his guilt, but he still felt bad about not telling him. Ian knew his hurt was slipping through his mask. He allowed it. Why? What could be the reason Alex would keep a secret? "Just let it go, Ian. I don't want to fight you on this."

Ian felt a flash of pain and déjà vu so intense that it almost sent him screaming. John. Please, no. No, it was Alex. He wasn't losing Alex, not the way he lost John. It had been the secrets that got him in the end. Alex knew enough about panic attacks to notice Ian was about to have one. Shit. Was it something he said? Actually, Ian had the slightly glazed look that indicated Alex was better off with trying to calm him down. "Easy, Ian."

Thankfully, they were both sitting. Alex gently sat on his uncle's lap and hugged him. Ian returned the hug and Alex could feel the tremors. The man was clearly not in a good place. Alex knew screaming in frustration was not the answer. But it was absolutely infuriating not knowing what to do or say while Ian regained control of his emotions. Alex felt Ian's hands run through his hair as the man's breathing rate returned to something normal. "Sorry, that hasn't happened in years."

Ian's voice sounded surprisingly normal, considering. "It's not your fault."

Alex stiffened as he realized his position. "Do you want me to go?"

The man's arms tightened to almost bruising immediately. "No!" Ian snapped. His tone immediately softened and turned pleading. "No, please stay. I'm sorr-"

Alex cut him off. "Don't apologize. It's not something you can help."

Actually, he hated the sound of Ian begging. Ian didn't mind the quiet so much. Besides, having Alex here was soothing. He felt his breathing return to normal and did his best to lighten his grip. He couldn't stop himself from delicately running his fingertips along Alex's scalp and shoulders. Making sure he was still here. Damn, this was too soon after an assassination mission. It was probably why he was on edge. "Can you stay with me?"

Alex knew he meant for the night. There was no reason why not. "Sure." Ian breathed a mental sigh of relief. He knew he was going to have nightmares and having Alex there would make waking up from watching him die a lot easier. Nothing would make waking up from watching John and Helen die easier, but at least Alex would be there. His heart was still racing as they both prepared for bed. It was going to be a long night.

Alex sighed as he woke up. Ian hadn't slept well, at all. They were about three quarters of the way through their journey. It was actually a good chance to see how to travel unnoticed with more than one person. Most of his SCORPIA lessons assumed that everybody was either an operative or knew what they were doing (i.e. kidnappers). But then, both he and Ian were operatives. Ian looked terrible. Sleep deprivation seemed to have taken its toll. Alex noticed the man hadn't stirred. He delicately ran his fingers over the shadows under Ian's eyes. Alex knew he probably didn't look his best, but Ian still looked worse. Alex decided to pack his and Ian's bags. He tried to move quietly so as not to wake his uncle. Ian probably needed the sleep more than he did. That and he was pretty sure that Ian had woken from at least four nightmares the night before. He silently slid everything except the toothbrushes into the bag. Then Alex decided to get them both breakfast. They were in the middle of nowhere Russia (not the actual name, but Alex didn't really care overmuch). His studying of the language had really come in handy for certain parts of Eastern Europe and the country itself. Ian of course knew enough to get by, but his dialect was slightly different from Alex's. Alex figured nobody cared or noticed enough to ask. Back to getting breakfast. He decided not to take any chances and carried at least enough to pick handcuffs with. Admittedly it wasn't a gun or a knife. Alex still felt vulnerable, but every little bit helped. He strolled along the street in the early morning. In the summer, the sun rose very early. At least he was far enough south that he didn't have to worry about white night. That was always a pain in the ass. He got some of the local fare, not wanting to risk attracting attention. Both he and the lady bartered in Russian. It was nice to know the language. Alex knew that the journey would be pretty rough. Surprisingly, the streets were still pretty empty. He made his way back quietly.

They'd be fine in Kazakhstan, language-wise. Turkmenistan would be crossed in a one day. Iran had Dari as the main language and Alex knew he'd be fine with Pashto and Dari in Afghanistan, considering it was what Ian taught him. When he got back, Ian was still asleep. He lightly placed the kasha down and woke Ian up with a tap on the shoulder. His uncle woke up instantly. "I thought I told you not to leave the room without me."

Alex shrugged. "You needed the sleep and I figured you meant after we got to Kazakhstan."

Ian sighed and got up, rubbing his eyes. "Thank you, but don't do it again."

Alex grinned. "Don't worry. I don't do breakfast in bed every morning."

Ian swats him lightly on the shoulder. Alex decided to switch his shirts. Cotton would be more comfortable than this one. He saw Ian wince guiltily. "What?"

His uncle raised an eyebrow. "Be honest, how sore are you?"

Alex was puzzled. "I still have no idea what you're going on about." Alex checked the mirror and saw the light bruising. Huh, he hadn't noticed. Guess Ian's grip had been tighter than he'd thought. He barely noticed bruises anymore, to be honest. Between training, Fenrir, and situations, he nearly always had light to major bruising. Alex experimentally moved his shoulder. "I honestly didn't notice."

It wasn't very high in his category of painful shit, to be fair. He'd been shot, had stuff exploded near him, and of course, nothing really compared to waterboarding or watching Jack die. Not that Ian knew about most of that. "Alex, you don't need to lie."

Alex sighed. "I'm not. I've gotten worse bruises from being tackled by Tom. Ian, stop feeling guilty."

That much was true. The future soccer team players of Brooklands were all fans of roughhousing. Plus there was Fenrir and training, not to mention karate. "Let's move then, if you get sore, let me know."

It was a long day, but they ended up stopping at the very edge of the border on Kazakhstan. Alex could definitely tell that the country was much poorer than the ones in Europe. The food prices were lower and so where the alcohol prices, not to mention the variety one could find at the grocery store (of booze, nutritious food was actually a challenge). The streets were less clean than the ones in Europe, particularly the ones in Switzerland. The pristine cleanliness of the famously neutral country stood in stark contrast with the grimmer, greyer streets of the current country. To be fair, that was in the poorer neighborhoods. In the richer ones, the contrast was stark. The buildings were pristine, the streets were eerily clean and empty and the embassies had guards with machine guns on the top. There were fountains with sparkling, clear water and Alex was amazed to see the building coated with either bronze or gold. The flower gardens were actually impressive. Alex felt a twist of disgust at the obvious disregard for the poor. They moved to what Alex assumed was the very small middle-class neighborhood. Immediately, his senses went haywire. They were approached by a man who appeared to be in his fifties. Alex could tell from the way he moved (Ian's lessons paying off) that he was CIA and something else. Assassin maybe? He knew that the larger intelligence agencies had some sort of assassination program, even if they wouldn't admit it. The man raised a single eyebrow at Alex before Ian snapped out a snippet of Russian at the man. The conversation wasn't long or difficult to follow. They were going to be transported to Afghanistan and Crawley and the other dude's boss would handle payment.

Once they got to what Alex assumed was the man's house, he had to ask a question. "What do you go by?"

The man seemed surprised. His English had a southern accent. "You can call me Lance. Ya, don' need ta speak Russian in here. I know it ain't no bag o' laughs for ya." The dude even looked like a hired gun in that suit. Fishing for information, too. He made sure his accent matched Ian's accent. The two of them had engaged in a conversation before Ian walked off to check their quarters (probably checking for bombs, Alex remembered Smithers warnings about the CIA - no sense of humor, you can't trust them either). "So what are you here for?"

Well, that was refreshingly direct. "A reunion of sorts."

Lance was now giving him the Blunt degree of observation. "You're not very talkative, are ya?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. He really should learn some impulse control. "You're not very subtle for an operative, are you?"

Lance actually laughed. "Naw, that subtle shit is for pussies. I'm more of a stabby kinda guy." Alex snorted. Gee, he would never have noticed. The knives and guns "Lance" was wearing just had to be decoration. "Yer very cute for a war zone."

Alex sighed. "I know four ways of killing you with this rusty nail. Please leave us alone."

Lance grins. It was the sort he'd imagine on a very large tiger. "I was only playin'. 'Sides I gotta play nice, or the boss is gonna be pissy." Alex felt his lips twitch. "Interagency cooperation or some rot. I gotta say…"

The man continued his rant on what exactly he thought of the people in charge of intelligence agencies. When Lance finally paused for a minute, Alex had to ask. "So why do you still work for them?"

Lance shrugged. "I don' know how to do much else, ya see. Plus, it's good for keepin' up my side job. Merc work is where ya make it ya see. You just have ta not get caught."

Alex wondered, though. "So why are you telling me all of this?"

Lance shrugged. "It's a warnin', ya dope. Don' work for these guys and find yer own way. I know ya could and I figure they migh' try to sell the job to ya."

Alex shrugged. "Thanks." On that note, Lance fell quiet.

Alex actually liked Lance. Ian didn't seem to feel the same way. Alex got the feeling that the man was deliberately understating his intelligence around Ian, not to mention the accent. Then again, Ian actually took pride in what he did, so Alex supposed he could see where the clash came from. Lance on the other hand… Alex got the feeling the man was there for the dental plan or something. He was vaguely reminded of a tiger whenever the man was in the room. Large, predatory, and surprisingly good at blending and keeping quiet in when they wanted to be. He was probably overthinking his metaphor. Then again, he didn't exactly have much else to do. Ian struck him as more of the Jaguar type. Stealthy, light, swift, and very, very deadly. Definitely overthinking his metaphors. Must be the heat. The desert was insufferable during the summer and being in semi-confined spaces for long periods of time (he reminded himself that it was only a few days) was not helping. It was a lot more comfortable than the methods used by a certain people-smuggling group, but it was still hot. Alex rested his head against a sweltering piece of metal connected to their current transport. Did he mention the desert was hot? And boring? And sandy as all fuck? He knew he was internally whining, but he considered the fact it wasn't out loud a remarkable demonstration of his restraint. "Not dyin' of heat stroke are you?"

Alex grinned. "Nope. You'd be cleaning up my puke if I was, remember?"

Lance smirked. "Naw, I'd just leave it for the secretary. She's the one who'd give a shit."

Alex snorted. "The poor woman has to put up with you? I'd quit."

Lance just snorted at Ian's glare. "Aw, but she gets hazard pay. 'Sides I ain't that bad."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Sure, Lance, just keep telling yourself that. Whatever helps you sleep at night and not die of heat exhaustion." Lance just kept laughing his ass off and driving.

Alex was really getting tired of their progressively crappier modes of transportation. If there were camels involved, he was going to be walking and eating camel for breakfast. Fortunately, it was mostly cars and roads where Alex was pretty sure there were smoother parts of the moon. The car suddenly stopped. "If it's camels, I'm eating them for fucking breakfast."

In his defense, Alex was grouchy. Also, camels liked to spit. And the smell was god-awful. Ian gave him a look. "Language, Alex."

Lance snorted. "Like hell. We're checking for mines, short stack."

Ian gave Lance a look that suggested disembowelment was near in his future. Alex felt his eyebrow raise. "And we're taking this road?"

Fan-fucking-tastic. He was just not going to mention this to Jack or Yassen. Someone might call child services or something. After that, it was really slow going, but still better than walking, though not by much. Apparently, there were cleared areas, but some of them hadn't been cleaned up for whatever reason. Lance had given them both a full set of weapons, although Alex had made sure to test all of it and keep Smithers' gifts near him at all times. The knives were still in place, although the heat made the holsters stick uncomfortably. Actually, the heat made everything stick uncomfortably. His cousins better have a solid-ass reason to live in this water-deprived, war-torn shithole. American curse words sounded so much filthier, at least to him. If it was up to him, the next reunion was going to be in St. Petersburg… in the dead of winter. His gear still fit and the others… well, not his problem. Five feet of snow and Fenrir sounded wonderful right about now. As they got back in the car for about the billionth time that day, Alex wondered if letting his cousins blow up the neighborhood would be preferable. "Are we there yet?"

Lance just started snorting. "Ya get three of those before I start chucking knives."

Ian's eyes flashed furiously. "You get one knife throw before I shoot you in the head, heart, and stomach and proceed to hack you to pieces."

Alex felt his mouth drop open. Wasn't Yassen supposed to be the trigger-happy, antisocial one? "I was kiddin', Jesus man."

Ian practically hissed. "Yeah, well, it isn't funny." The rest of the ride proceeded in a remarkable amount of silence.

They got to what initially looked like a makeshift city. The houses nearest to them were not passing a health inspection with bribes in USSR, as Joe would say. As in, they were mostly tents. In the distance, Alex could make out actual houses and what looked like a large black building. The mixed languages of Pashto and Dari completed the foreign environment. Alex had never experienced much of being a minority in a crowd and was surprised to feel slightly off. It was odd. The three of them drew significant stares from the children, though the adults seemed to know better or maybe they had seen more white people. He knew better than to open his mouth unless he had to. Lance took them through the streets at a brisk pace before they got to a part of the city that looked more built. The city seemed to get progressively more stable and permanent looking the further inward they went. Not to mention cleaner. Alex wasn't surprised at the stark contrast, but it made him glad England had some sort of safety net for the poor. Alex knew better than to linger, especially with Ian already giving out death threats. Granted, they weren't directed at him. Ian could still ground him. Alex hated being eleven sometimes. Then again, most of his 'hobbies' were useful, so Ian might have to think pretty hard to come up with something. But the last time, it had taken only a few minutes. Alex would try his hardest not to blow anything up. After looking up what prison consisted off in the area, he'd almost rather be shot. Plus, Yassen would be super pissy and Jack's reaction made him shudder internally. On second thought, he would definitely rather be shot. Tom and Jerry would never let him hear the end of it either.

Alex realized about halfway to the house that the crowds weren't the only thing that made him feel uncomfortable. It was the feel of them. The simmering, oozing rage that was threatening to ignite at any moment. Beneath it was fear, of what he wasn't sure, but it was enough to make him want to leave. This was a place where violence could erupt at any minute. The environment was tense and his situational awareness kicked into a degree he hadn't realized existed. It was as though everything was hitting him at once in its headache-inducing glory. A switch in his brain seemed to flip and he suddenly began to understand the snippets of conversation he was hearing almost fluently. Alex almost didn't realize that they were stopping until Ian glanced at him. "Are you ok?"

Alex took a deep breath. "Fine. Is this the place?"

Ian moved to knock on the door. "It's the address they gave me."

The door was opened by a very tan man who appeared to be in his sixties. "Welcome. I'm your grandfather, Alex."

As the door swung shut behind them, Alex took in the man's fit build and was reminded vaguely of people from a certain island in Italy. The man's hair had clearly once been dark but was now in the middle of turning gray. Alex was reminded of the aging generals he saw on television. The rest of the family was seated in the dining room (he presumed) table. Alex slowly took in the rest of his family. There was a grown adult woman who had dark brown curls and brown eyes. She was fit to a military level. She appeared to be in her late twenties or early thirties. Marion. There was a younger man seated at her opposite, the left side of the head of the table. His eyes and hair were dark. Were they half-siblings? He was seated at the table, but the pose and stillness seemed unnatural - like he was meant to be moving. The eyes had a certain fire in them, letting Alex know he was either insane or very, very intelligent. Darian, his mind supplied. The two teenagers were as still as he was, watching, cautious. Jason had a more ethnically Hispanic look. He was clearly going to end up very tall and well-built. Lillian seemed slight in comparison. She was as pale as he was tan. Her face was a creamy white that Alex could compare to the flower and her hair was a brownish red (actual red, not Jack's orange color). Her eyes were so blue, Alex checked to make sure he wasn't hallucinating. Her figure was tiny, and Alex was pretty sure she'd end up below average height. "Hi, I'm Alex." He felt a little awkward. What was he supposed to say?

Marion was the first to speak. She smiled warmly. "Hello, Alex. We've been waiting so long to meet you."

She walked gracefully and utterly silently and pulled him into a hug. He did his best not to jump or stiffen. He wasn't really used to gratuitous hugs, even if Jack was the cuddly type. She ran her fingers through his hair. "It feels like your mother's when she was younger. You look more like your father, though."

Marion smelled surprisingly good considering the heat. Something spicy and cinnamon-y. She seemed pulled out of the hug and examined his face, gently tilting it. Marion seemed reluctant to let him go completely but did so when Ian cleared his throat with a cough that sounded suspect. She sauntered back to the table with the kind of grace Alex generally associated with Yassen Gregorovich. The rest of them stayed seated, as though waiting for some kind of cue. Patrick spoke next. "Let us eat. I'm sure you had a rough few days of travel."

The man took the seat at the head of the table. Alex sat next to his cousins and Ian reluctantly took the seat next to his other uncle. The ensuing silence was slightly stifling after everybody was served. "So...Lillian, What do you like to do?"

That seemed to be his cousin's cue to start spewing facts about herself and Jason. Alex was surprised she was so talkative. War Zones probably got lonely, he supposed. He noticed that he only earned a few things about her. Clever. She liked green; her favorite flowers were lilies (shocker); she and Jason didn't remember their biological families. After that, his other cousin spoke. Alex was surprised that his voice had already broken. He liked soccer, blue, and cacti. The adults were oddly silent. Not a good sign, but at least they weren't yelling at each other and shooting.

The time seemed to pass both quickly and slowly for the rest of the day. Alex figured it was the different time zones catching up with him. Perhaps the heat as well. In the rest of the afternoon, they stayed indoors and studied their respective topics. Alex was pleasantly surprised to find out that he was academically ahead of both his cousins (he did have an unfair advantage, but Jason was almost his mental age). Then again, his last year before his death had gotten him up to the college level, even if his grades hadn't reflected it. After helping Lillian with a trig problem, he decided that these two weren't that bad, even if they were suspicious little brats. "Can I call you Lilly?"

It was better than Lilian, in his opinion. "Sure, Mum calls me that all the time. Err… Mum being Marion."

Alex shrugged. "Your parent figures, your business."

Jason was leaning rather heavily on both their shoulders. Apparently, Jason and Lilly were being taught at the same rate. Alex figured it was because they were both accelerated enough as it was. Time to see if they had a sense of humor. "Mate lay off the donuts. My poor shoulder can't take both our weights."

Jason cuffed him. "Sure it's not malnutrition, cousin dearest?"

Alex grinned. "Just because you 'roided out like an American and hit puberty scarily early doesn't mean I'm suffering from stunted growth." Jason whacked him with a pillow and that pretty much ended any serious attempt to focus on academics. Especially as he may or may not have grabbed Lilly's pillow for retaliation. He was totally mature. Totally. He definitely didn't get sucker punched by Lilly at all. Sure, keep telling yourself that. Shut it, Grim. Real mature there, short stack. Alex rolled his eyes and focused on whacking his cousins with their pillows. Dinner pretty much went the same way. The adults glared at each other and Alex getting along with his cousins. Alex wondered what on the earth had gotten them that wound up and decided to eavesdrop on any conversations they might have in private. What? He had been a spy.

Alex slipped downstairs after they were sent to bed "so the adults could talk". Read: So we can argue with each other without upsetting you. His cousins shot him an incredulous look. "If you don't tell, I'll let you know what I overheard."

Two identical grins showed up. "Deal."

Alex slipped into the shadows and vanished from the sight of most people as they seemed to swallow him whole. On his tour around the house, he'd noticed the vents were all connected and not insulated, meaning he could hear the people in the dining room from the room next to it (the kitchen) with ease. If they got louder, he wouldn't even have to try to pick up the conversation. By the time he crept down the stairs, the adults seemed to have already gotten into it. "This is why I was against it in the first place, Marion, and I don't interfere with your household."

It was the most irritation he'd ever heard Ian express. "That is beside the point Ian Rider. Alex is as much part of our family as he is yours. You have no right-"

Ian interjected. "I have every right. The only reason you aren't in MI6 custody after what you did is because of John!"

Marion snorted. "Like you haven't done worse in the service of your country."

Alex mentally groaned. "Alex has a right to learn. Besides, you've been neglecting your duty in regards to the family customs on your side!"

Ian made a derisive noise in his throat. "The outdated, archaic pile of pseudo-spiritual crap that is more than borderline brainwashing? That part of the family history dies with me!" Ian was on a roll. "The only thing from the Black Circle I will be passing down to Alex is their stealth and fighting abilities!"

Darian interjected. "We need a leader!"

Ian snarled. "Find someone else!"

Patrick spoke up for the first time. "He is the only one whose personality is suitable. We do have the power to remove him from your custody."

Alex froze, barely breathing. "You utter bastard."

Ian snapped in equal parts fear and anger. Patrick didn't react. "Then we have an accord. You will teach him. In three years' time, if the other leaders are not satisfied, we will be taking over his education."

Ian let out a sound that was between a moan and a growl. "I should have shot the lot of you when I had the chance." The door slammed as Ian headed out the back of the house.

Alex mentally groaned and went upstairs to tell his cousins. He was now officially curious. Perhaps they would know about the family stuff or who or what the Black Circle was. All in all, it seemed like a totally auspicious start to a wonderful trip. As for being separated from Ian, they'd have to put up with both of their antics, plus he knew certain mercenaries would back him up. Griiim. Pestilence? My psychotic extended family wants me to join a cult. It could be a wonderful learning experience for you. Riight. I swear you're getting off on my suffering. No, Destiny is the one into BDSM. And screwing children over. I really needed that mental image, Grim. I'm primordial, we like cults. Screw you, Grim. You need to be at least one hundred before I'd consider it, pestilence. One hundred?! You're sick in the head. Mentally one hundred, twat. With your life expectancy, you'll probably be on your fifteenth life. Alex suppressed his groan. Somehow, he knew this wasn't going to end well. Jason and Lilly were practically bouncing. "You didn't get caught?! That's awesome."

Alex smiled. It was nice to have his skills appreciated for a change (cough, Blunt, cough). "No, I didn't. Actually, I was kind of hoping you'd clear a few things up for me. They mentioned some kind of family group. Umm...the Black Circle?"

Jason's eyes widened. "Marion's going to be pissed. You're supposed to know this stuff starting when you're, like, five or something."

Alex sighed. Lilly picked it up from there. "The Black Circle is a secret group of the main families involved with the top spots in intelligence agencies and the occasional terrorist group. It's really against tradition to tell you, but really you should know. You're supposed to be the leader."

Alex hadn't really registered the fact that other people actually expected him to make decisions. "What?! Why?"

Lilly sighed. "Marion will tell you, or Ian, like you were supposed to be told. You're in for a long couple of days, though. Fair warning."

Alex resisted groaning. "Just wonderful. Goodnight you two."

Jason ruffled his hair. "Goodnight."

Note: The french above translates to 1) Me? But Why? 2) But, Uncle my heart is broken. I am also not a native french speaker, so mistakes are unintentional. Also, since finals are coming up, the next update might be a while.