Chapter 54: Disintegration

Death (or Grim) - he was starting to get used to being called that - was in a bit of a squeeze. See, his siblings didn't really like him that much and the feeling was mutual. They were bugging him about Alex. Grim frankly preferred the child's company to his siblings. At least Alex had some fire still left. You would think after being shot, stabbed, nearly fed to crocodiles, and set on fire the kid would learn, but no, Alex stood proud still. Grim personally admired the grit and the ability to provoke crazy rich dudes into fits of apoplectic rage. It was hilarious. His siblings were being annoying. It was fate this and fate that. And they were still whining about he was fated to die that day; can't you give him a break. Grim personally thought Alex would be bored shitless three days into any kind of real break and would find another crime boss to irritate, but that was just his opinion. The kid was making him twitchy. Grim had also disobeyed the laws he'd helped create. You see, he was no longer supposed to be sharing his essence with a mortal. Especially without any kind of cap. Primordials had been banished to the nether regions for a reason. Their powers created...unfair advantages for some mortals over others. Alex was far from the first in his family to ask him for (and be granted) favors, but this was the first time Grim had actually forgotten to cap the amount of his essence Alex could draw. Meh, oh well. Alex was stuck as a mostly plain-ass normal mortal until his second (third) life. Grim was counting strictly by the numbers Alex was resurrected for. The lives the child chose. Of course, Grim wasn't about to tell him he could actually choose. They could not bring back the dead, but Alex would get some…interesting combat abilities that would not be noticeable, mostly because all of his enemies would be dead afterward, but who was counting? Grim rubbed his hands together. He was really looking forward to when Lex-Lex got old enough for consistent (and awesome) stunts. It was great. The kid had used a snowmobile to ram a helicopter in the last life without his help. Plus, dear old Ian was doing a great job of being an absolutely atrocious parent. Honestly, you've shot how many men in front of your prepubescent nephew, again? Call child services! Don't even get him started on that stunt with the grenade and Brendan Chase. Well, it wasn't Grim's affair, but he was personally banking on Gregorovich getting custody. He was slippery and ruthless enough. Plus, the man had some great ideas for ditching Nile. The assassin's plan wasn't a bad one, even by his standards. Plus, he would make a better (or more stable) guardian, at least. Hmmm. Maddox. What a delightful twist. He knew giving Fenrir one of his hellhound's souls was a good move. What a great pet. Grim approved of this adoption. Then again, he wasn't exactly great parent material himself. Oh, well. Alex was mostly grown intellectually anyway.

Brendan Chase knew he was just a little too eager for the reply that Pierre would send. He wasn't exactly used to waiting anymore. Usually, Chase would just make a phone call and whomever he wanted to meet would have an appointment within twenty-four hours. He had sent the man a bit of a challenge. It was killing him to see whether or not Pierre would take him up on this. No, it was not the investigation. Chase trusted nobody but himself for that. He was currently attempting to do paperwork at the school. It was never as successful or efficient as doing it in his own home, but staying here was his best option for the moment for a variety of reasons. Three was an ally, they were both the only two in on the Pierre thing. Chase preferred to keep it that way. Kurst had an annoying habit of attempting to poach the more interesting recruits and he knew Yu was eyeing having an actual second-in-command or an actual assassin on hand in light of the still (unofficially) unexplained ASH incident. Chase personally suspected the all-too-conveniently placed Ian Rider in that last one, but the issue remained that the man didn't have the tactical abilities to pull that off. Neither did John Crawley. There would have had to have been a third present co-conspirator. The tactician. Chase would pay no small amount of money to have whoever had planned that little incident on-hand (or on his payroll at least). It was cleverly done, utterly ruthlessly planned, and an expert playing of both sides. He could admire that - Pierre. It was Pierre who had made the plan. Chase was certain, although he would probably never be able to prove it. He wondered how much Ian Rider had paid the man. For the plan. For his silence. It would be good to know the price. The man could have charged a not-insignificant amount. It wouldn't have required too much effort for the trained eye, with the right mind behind it. They'd ruled out Jones, Blunt, and ASIS in the incident. It fit. Three was at his door. Chase had learned to recognize the walk and sound of his knock. "Come in."

The good doctor came in. "Pierre was behind Howell."

Three smirked. "It must have cost a fortune. I wonder what Ian Rider knows him as."

Chase shrugged. "We'll add it to the growing list of questions. Is there something you were here for?"

Three have him a significant look. "Do you have plans to exit my domain any time soon?"

Chase gave him a smirk of his own. "Oh, Doc. I will, eventually. But I need a new head of a combat squad and you cast a nice specter for anyone who might try anything."

Three was giving him a calculating look. "Very well. Do try to keep Nile under control. The student casualty rate should be kept to a minimum."

Chase sighed. "I'll give him another talk about getting over-enthusiastic with the sharp, pointed objects."

The doctor gave him a significant look. "Do please. We already have one out for medical care."

Chase groaned. He could feel the headache coming on. And the cramping from the paperwork. He would shove it off on Nile, but it might get destroyed and those records were important. The doctor took his leave. God damn it, Nile. Why, oh, why? What did this one do? Sneeze loudly? He was as bad as Three back in the early days.

Alex Rider was anticipating a nice, quiet week mostly to himself. That week was not happening so far. Ian was actually watching him closely, which was annoying after being free this long. He wanted to go to his nice, illegal bank account on his own, thanks. Yeah, Ian was watching him. It got weird to know that Ian was watching him as he carefully clipped the poison he'd saw for to grow in their yard. The flowers were beautiful. And fatal in doses as low as one for a fully-grown man. The rosary peas looked stunning this time of year. The plant had kind of exploded and Alex knew he would be getting a larger crop than expected. It was kind of nice to do something quiet and not involving bloodshed for a change. Well, no direct bloodshed. Storing up poison for you and your family's future use was not exactly the action of a pacifist. Tom was perched nearby, watching him garden. "Are you ever going to let me touch your precious flowers?"

Alex glanced up. "We'll start with the ones that can't kill you first."

Tom grinned. "And how many of those do you have?"

Alex shrugged. "Anything behind the poison ivy can kill you."

Tom looked, fascinated. "Really?"

Alex remembered when he'd had that same fascination with death. It had faded quickly after his missions. "Yep."

Alex snipped off a partially wilted leaf and made sure his plant was securely fashioned to its' stick. It had already been threatening to collapse under its' own weight. "So, what does that one do?"

Alex checked the flowers. They would be pollinated soon. "It grows rosary peas. As little as three can kill a grown man."

Tom slid down the tree. "Really? Cool!"

Alex gave him an amused look. "I've got a book if you want it, just don't tell Ian."

Tom looked at him. "If this is you trying to con me into more school work, then you're doing a great job."

Alex grinned. "Of course, I am. It's me, Tom." His best friend just burst out laughing at that.

Tulip Jones had decided to assign Ian Rider office work for a while. She was fairly certain that he would eventually figure out what she had done, but by then, it would hopefully be too late. She wanted him here for back-up, just in case. Alex had given her the idea. Once upon a time, Julia Rothman had been on their side. Tulip remembered her vividly. The black widow, forever spinning its web. Until something had come and shot it. The long, long nights she had spent in the woman's company. Julia had eventually admitted to loving poison more than any of her husbands. Tulip hadn't exactly been shocked. Julia had then proceeded to give her a fancy Italian dagger. It was coated in a poison that she'd had custom made. Just dip it in a drink or give the man a little nick. He'll die within the month and the poison doesn't become any less powerful. You'll know when it's expired because the blade will dissolve. Tulip had opened the box the night before. She had never used the knife but had kept it. The blade was still there, as shiny and pointed as the day she had gotten it, nearly twenty years ago. Tulip wondered what Julia would say now. Planning to poison her boss and taking his position. It was the sort of thing she would approve of, Tulip felt a twisted sort of smile on her face. Of course, Julia would have the courage to straight-up plunge it into his back. She was relying on poison. The dagger felt cold in its sheath at her side. It was leather, and probably custom-made. It fit suspiciously well on her. The armor was no longer required for her to wear, so she left it in her closet. Alan would probably only suspect her in his last days of life. Or not at all. This was a kind of betrayal of the highest order. Alan knew she had turned down many, many offers. They were always there, too. Tulip knew it would be all too easy. She would never claim this kill, of course. The current government wouldn't accept that sort of thing. The bounties were there, but Tulip was not motivated by money. She vaguely wondered whether or not anyone besides Ian would realize what she had done. It was more SCORPIA than her usual style, but she was desperate. This wouldn't be the first time somebody had murdered their boss. It would probably not be the last. Then again, it wasn't exactly for the promotion this time. Tulip took a deep breath. Then, she went back to her usual morning routine. He wouldn't know it, but this was the last day Alan Blunt would be truly alive. He would slowly rot to the core, the way his morals had. There was no antidote. For either kind of rot, really.

Alex Rider had finally gotten his chance to go to Switzerland. Fenrir was on his leash. He was fully armed. This would be interesting. Alex stepped into the bank as usual. No sign of Nile. Then again, the man had finally landed himself on Tulip's radar, so Alex figured he wouldn't be in England for the next few years. It was SCORPIA policy after all. They took care of their operatives and tried not to send them into countries that had particular grudges against them. His shooting at Tulip had been a violation of their policies on several levels. So had Howell killing his parents. The board could do what it wanted, though. They would have to sign off on exceptions like that. Alex vividly remembered his last year of life. Edward had failed in his endeavor. It hadn't been the man's fault. It was just that Alex had been determined. He had trained in secret. Then, he'd struck out on his own. Edward had just accepted him wandering in and out of their lives without question. Alex knew the CIA would neatly cover up any problems with the school. There were very few adults that could actually do anything about making him do anything. Alex had liked working by himself on missions he decided on. The first thing he had done was go back to his home in England. He'd found the files Ian had stored in the house. Alex was unsure what it meant, but it hadn't mattered in retrospect. The files had given him all he needed on MI6's unofficial prisons. Alex had taken out the living board members one after another. He had lied to Three. It wasn't going to be done until he was dead. He had been avoiding both sides at that point. Returning to his adopted family had been his last mistake, especially while Three was free. But the others had all died at more-or-less his hands. He hadn't wanted to risk getting that close to Kurst, but he was sure the missiles the Russians had lent him had done the job. They had killed his family, and Alex wouldn't put them past targeting his friends the way they had done with Jack. Alex had decided to kill the rest of them first. Well, he might have left the good doctor alive. He walked into his private room and traced scars that no longer existed. It had been a good run, he supposed. This one would be better. There was a letter with an all-too-familiar scorpion on the envelope. Alex sliced it open.

Dear Mr. Pierre,

I hear you've had a busy, busy year. I'm hoping to make it a little busier, I'm not going to lie. I was tragically forced out of Britain before some unfinished business got resolved. Since you seem to have the unfortunate things my legitimate colleagues like to call 'morals', I'll spice it up for you.

In Britain, there is a lab. A lab I very much want to interfere with. It is a lab run by British intelligence. In this lab, they experiment on animals. There is a specific specimen I want that they have created. It is a special kind of moss. I wouldn't touch it if I were you, or breathe near it for that matter. You'll notice because it glows blue even in bright light. A jar in the mail should do. I wouldn't feel too bad about wrecking the lab. It has only six other live animal specimens. The rest are plants and embryos. Two snakes, both with modified venom, among other things. A scorpion that injects antivenom to its' natural form. A modified snow leopard; I could not find out what exactly they did to it, but it has a faint silver tint to its' fur. Plus, two fish - I have no earthly idea what they do except their obvious bioluminescence. You can do what you want with the animals and the facility, I just want the moss in a jar. It's basically another poisonous plant. Have fun! I'm leaving the details in your capable hands since you seem to have experience attacking well-guarded targets under the noses of intelligence agencies and criminal organizations both. Don't think I didn't spot your hand in the jar in Australia (photos attached, since MI6 is usually stingy about sharing 'em).

With Both Admiration and Acrimony,

Brendan Chase

Alex just looked at the letter. Well, it looked like Death, or whatever had answered his wish to have pets. James would be delighted. Alex figured Jack wouldn't mind a fish tank after him adopting a dog and all. He shoved the letter in his backpack. The scorpion would be the tricky part. Most people didn't like them. Maybe Ian could be convinced to have it in the family lab? Antivenom was valuable and usually expensive to get. He'd just have to slide the part where he acquired said animals past Ian's gaze. Or maybe he'd luck out and Ian would get a mission soon. Alex wondered how many shadily acquired pets Crawley would fail to question before he asked. Probably a house-full, but you never knew. Jack knew he was a sucker for animals and that he always had been. Jack probably fondly remembered the time he'd saved a baby goat and kept it until they found the owner. It had, predictably, attempted to eat everything in sight - including the carpet. Alex fondly remembered the solid black pygmy goat. It had been small enough to fit in his arms. The soft ears had been all too easy to pet. The goat had been born without horns and was especially defenseless. Alex couldn't just leave it to fend for itself. Jack had just laughed and started making phone calls. He'd kept it in the garden with a makeshift pen. The grass had suffered for it. As it turned out, it had somehow escaped its' trailer during a cross-country trip to visit schools to educate kids about farming and where their food came from. Alex had a fond sort of smile on his face that faded as he walked into the bunker. He had an armed assault to plan. "Mads? I need blueprints for a crazy SCORPIA assignment."

The computer whirred to life. "Very well."

The hologram scanned the letter for a minute. "Mads, how many personnel does this place have?"

The computer pulled up records. "Seventy staff during the day, including the guards. None except the seven perimeter guards and a sniper at night."

Alex sighed. "I knew it couldn't be that easy."

The hologram approached him. "Will you do it?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Aww, Mads, it'll be fun. I won't even have to kill the guards if all goes well."

The computer paused, but the files kept printing. "And how do you plan to disguise your appearance?"

Alex smirked. "Well, Mads, I've got an idea."

The computer sighed. "You are clinically insane, Mr. Rider."

Alex laughed. "Well, Mads, I've got a nice psychologist that Patrick pays for."

Maddox retorted. "Whatever the amount, she should get a raise."

Alex shrugged. "I don't pay for her, but good luck."

Maddox would have shaken his head if his programming allowed it. He hoped Alex would have the good sense to flood the compound with knockout gas, just in case. Maddox decided adding a list of suggestions couldn't hurt.

The first thing Alex did before going home was commit the letter to memory before burning it with the lighter he always carried. As a rule, he usually kept his letters, but this was a little too risky. He would enter recent events in his computer log, just in case. This was the sort of thing he wanted to be dead before Ian found out about it if Ian found out about it. It wouldn't be pretty, otherwise. Then again, their relationship was kind of disintegrating. Alex didn't want to rush it, but they had been consistently arguing for almost his entire time back. He wondered what it meant. Would he rather go back? No. It was better this way. It was more real than what they had before, even if it hurt. And it hurt. It burned sometimes. Alex wondered how it would have gone if Ian had lived to his fifteenth birthday sometimes. How long? How long would Ian have kept it a secret? Probably Alex's whole life, if he was honest. It may not have worked, though. He had nearly found Ian out at thirteen, originally. But things were better with Jack. Tom actually had a home this time. Sure, Tom's parents were much worse off, but Alex found he had a hard time caring. James was going to get out of his arranged marriage this time. Ian would live if he had any say in it. Alex had left his plans in the bunker. Too much risk of discovery here and Maddox had a bunch of hidden compartments and lockboxes in mind. Alex would burn the papers afterward. Alex also began synthesizing sleeping gas. He would need to concentrate on it to work. There was also what he was going to use to submerge the area visually. It would have to either temporarily blind people, obscure visibility in general, or both. Alex was choosing both. He had a gas mask. Maddox had said that they wouldn't. Alex would just have to trust the computer's assessment of most of the factors. He couldn't really risk walking by and having the extra-shady pets. Tom would cover for him. So would the rest of his friends. Alex was just glad that the next two Fridays were predicted to be very still nights, wind-wise. It was rare in England, but the wind was better in the city. Alex took a deep breath and let it out as his next round of sleeping gas finished being compressed. He glanced at his watch. Time for dinner.

The plan to free James was in motion. Alex was glad that Ian was pretty much a machine when it came to doing assignments. It was great when he was on the same side as Alex. Sadly, Alex was planning to work against him in certain areas. Like his privacy and his arrangement with Chase, though he loathed to call it that. He preferred to think of it as Operation Acquire Cool Pets with a side trip and a gas mask, you know. Tom was telling them about his day at school. Alex suspected that the account was heavily edited to make it more palatable for the adults, but he wasn't going to say anything. He was really waiting to catch Tom alone. Ian was eyeing him with obvious suspicion which Alex felt was totally unwarranted. Alex really hadn't pulled anything that shady yet. "Is there something you want to tell us, Alex?"

Alex raised an eyebrow at Ian. "Not really, no."

Ian gave him a look. "Are you sure? Maybe it involves a train trip."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Oh, come on, Ian. I've been going to Switzerland on my own for nearly two years, I don't think I'm going to be kidnapped if I haven't been already."

Ian just looked at him. "Why not take an adult?"

Alex shrugged. "Don't see a point. You all have other things to do. I can do it myself."

Jack was giving Ian the evil eye. Alex couldn't for the life of him figure out why, but he was not about to get in the middle of that argument. "Hey Tom, didn't you need help on that maths homework?"

Alex could say many things about his friend, but mathematics was not one of Tom's gifts. Tom could also take a hint. "You know I always do."

Alex smirked. "How about now?"

Tom jumped up after downing food at a rate even Alex envied. "Okay."

Alex loved Tom sometimes. His best friend was just really good at taking all of his hints. It was nice. Tom plopped down next to him after they head up the stairs. "So, what did you actually want to talk about? I usually have to drag you into math tutoring mode."

Alex grinned and gave his friend a warm look. "You know me so well."

It wouldn't be in character for him to hug Tom, but he was tempted to anyway. Tom was giving him a suspicious look. "Alex."

Alex knew he couldn't really bullshit Tom. "Yes?"

Tom raised an eyebrow. "Get on with it. I know it is going to be bad."

Alex frowned. "It's not that bad, Tom. I just want you to cover for me. It'll be this or next Friday. Try to convince the others, please."

Tom just looked at him. "And what will you be doing?"

Alex gave Tom an innocent look. "Rescuing our new pets from their abusive owners, Tom, what else?"

Tom took a deep breath. "Fine."

Alex gave his friend the smile he knew crumbled Tom's resolved like a good blue cheese. "Thank you, Tom."

Tom just looked a little stunned. "Sure."

Alex gave his friend a teasing look. "We should probably actually do math now. Don't want the adults to start wondering what we're doing behind closed doors."

Alex felt the light swat on the back of his head and laughed. "Oi!"

Alex eventually decided to pull his stunt the week after this one. It would give him more time to prepare. Besides, he figured two break-ins in one week was a bit much for trying to live a semi-normal life. Or rather, sort of trying. Alex wasn't sure he actually was, but he would give it lip-service until he was blue in the face. Alex figured his usual break-in would be enough. Sneaking out of his house was pretty effortless. Alex wondered if he shouldn't start practicing going out of windows again, just in case. It was always good to have an escape route and second-story windows were not that dangerous. Adrian would be teaching him parkour soon and Alex could safely say he was stoked. Alex entered through Belinda's window with practiced ease. The woman was sitting on the couch, eyeing him with no small amount of amusement. "Do you ever enter a house the normal way?"

Alex snorted. "Yes, I do, Doc. You're just special."

Belinda just shook her head. "You are not the first to tell me so. I sincerely hope you will be the last."

Alex shrugged. "I suppose Ian told you to expect me."

The woman inclined her head. "Indeed. Though I think he expected you to come right away."

Alex sat down. "He wanted me to. I wasn't really ready until today, though."

Belinda arched her brow. "And why is that?"

Alex looked at her. "I'm better if I have cool-down time. Time to process a bit, you know? Also, I was busy. I have other things on the table."

Belinda was taking notes as per usual. "Your education?"

Alex looked at her. "Among other things. I have projects on the side, you know."

Belinda perked up. "Side projects?"

Alex gave her a look. "You know, like my garden."

Belinda's unamused look was hilarious to Alex. "The one full of poison?"

Alex gave her an innocent look. "Aww, It's not all poison. Besides, I do other stuff, like computer projects."

Belinda sighed. "I would advise that you did not do anything too weapon-like in your projects."

Alex gave her a look. "Oh, come on. It's a translator project for mandarin. The online stuff can't even translate the word 'dissection' reliably."

Belinda gave him an amused glance. "Learning Mandarin under your uncle's nose, are we?"

Alex looked unmoved. "Yes."

Belinda looked at him. "Why? He could probably help you."

Alex gave a sort of shrug. "I prefer doing things on my own."

Belinda didn't think so. "No, I think you are just used to it. Tell me, if Tom Harris could match you, would you work with him?"

Alex paused. It was a long, empty silence. "Yes."

Belinda made a note. "Why him and not Ian or another adult? Why do you prefer your peers?"

The boy was quiet for a long time. "Tom never lied to me. None of my peers ever meaningfully lied to me."

Belinda paused. "And the adults did?"

Alex felt the rage that came from another life, full of death and pain bleed through. "Yes. They lied to me. They all lied to me. And I hate being lied to. All it ever did was cause me pain."

For a second, he was fourteen and speaking with Alan Blunt. For another, he was fifteen as Tulip lied and told him that they did everything to prevent the deaths of his friends. For the third, he was sixteen and cutting off Brendan Chase's head off his corpse with Nile's sword to ship to Tulip. Then, he was back to being twelve and alive again. Belinda was frozen and eyeing him. "Are you okay?"

Alex let out most of the built-in anger with a breath. It wasn't her fault that the adults in his life had decided to be extra shitty pieces of shit. "For now."

Belinda let out a mental sigh of relief. At least he wasn't completely psychotic. Evidently, he had some issues with the number of secrets in the family. It wasn't too uncommon. He'd probably have lifelong trust issues, though. Ten was a very delicate age. "Why don't we discuss something else?"

Alex looked at her. Belinda was pretty sure there was something grateful in his expression. "Alright then."

Belinda gave a mental sigh of relief. At least he was decently receptive. But, then, he was twelve. "Why did you take your first life?"

Alex remembered, once upon a time, facing two men alone in a field, but that was another life. "Er, he was wearing explosives and pointing a gun at Ian. I didn't feel like finding out who was going to win that stand-off, so I shot him."

Belinda paused. "Why were you in Germany in the first place?"

Alex seemed to pause for another minute. "I was on a hiking trip that I was about to conclude. I saw Ian by accident in the town I stopped in for supplies and decided to follow him. I wanted a break from living in the house and I figured that the German Alps were going to be decently empty outside of ski resorts in the winter."

Belinda made another mark on her clipboard. "And you wanted a break because?"

Alex let out a long sigh. "I was getting tired of being watched closely. It makes me twitchy. I'm used to being on my own and doing things on my own, you know."

Belinda tapped her clipboard and placed it down. "Are you? The file says that you were with either your uncle or Ms. Starbright for the most part in the last five years."

Alex shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm not used to Ian being aware, you know. There is a difference between between being present and being mentally present, you know."

The woman paused. "Do you feel affected by this lack?"

Alex gave her a mildly derisive look. "Sometimes. Sometimes, not being watched is a relief, you know."

The former psychologist looked at him. "Like when?"

Alex raised an eyebrow. "I occasionally want privacy, you know. Nobody likes to be micromanaged."

Belinda was far from surprised. Nobody in his family liked to be micromanaged. Some people found it freeing. "Understood."

Alex gave her a rather cross look. "If I find you in violation of what I believe your professional ethics should be, I will kill you."

Belinda sighed. "I'm well aware. You would most likely have to get in line."

Alex gave her a look. "Fine."

The doctor resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She had gotten daily death threats, once upon a time. "Would you care to elaborate on your set of ethics?"

Alex glared. "I only kill in self-defense or defense of friends. No torture and no children."

Belinda made a mental note. "Seems straightforward enough."

Alex shrugged. "You would think, but you would be wrong."

Belinda perked up. "Really? Do tell."

Alex gave her an amused look. "Well, you see, at the last family reunion, Aunt Crazy…"

The session had lasted about five hours. Belinda rubbed her eyes. It was almost five in the morning by the time he had left. She didn't actually mind long sessions or the early hour, but it was interesting that he chose to break into her house in the middle of the night rather than coming at normal hours in the normal fashion. Alex was interesting. He seemed to function more like an adult at times. A very poorly adjusted adult who was closer to the assassins she had once created than a well-adjusted member of society. Belinda sighed. It wasn't too far from what Patrick wanted to create. The child already had an independent streak. He already could probably live on his own, not that he should. Alex was very near breaking in several areas. Belinda was composing her report, for herself. Patrick didn't actually want them, which was odd. Normally, the man seized every single scrap of paper relating to his family. It was not really for her to wonder about. Then again, perhaps he was just biding his time until Alex had a better family reunion. Judging from Alex's brutally honest description, Belinda wouldn't hold her breath if she was him. Marion Beckett was many things, but emotionally stable and charming were not two of her main qualities, to say the least. Marion and Alex seemed to have a complex relationship. Belinda would have sworn she should have been shot by Alex by now, but Alex seemed reluctant to take aim at his own relatives. Albeit, Alex was likely going to take issue with the good majority of his adult relatives at some point. He'd already (non-lethally) shot them. Belinda found it hilariously ironic that he'd done it to stop them from arguing (well, shooting each other). Alex had pretty freely talked about his relatives. The child had acknowledged that they weren't the best, but Belinda wondered if he realized just how bad they were. Belinda noted that he seemed oddly comfortable with defending his relatives, even in a lethal fashion. He seemed to care for them, even if they were completely psychotic. Not that she could really blame him. Her family hadn't been much better. It had taken her much longer to give up hope, too. Belinda recalled her own family. Her mother had oscillated between being sweet and loving and flying into terrifying rages where she physically assaulted them for the smallest things. Her father had been cold and entirely emotionally disconnected. She only recalled three times when he'd told her he even cared for her. And one of those was when he was dying. Belinda's sister had committed suicide before her tenth birthday. She hardly recalled the girl, now.

Alex got back to Jack's sleepy look and Ian sitting at the table. Ian seemed almost inhumanly aware for five in the morning. Alex glared at him over breakfast. Ian just gave him an utterly amused look. "How was your nightly session?"

Alex resisted the urge to answer very, very rudely. "Fine."

Ian seems to read the unsaid fuck you quite well but was ignoring it for whatever reasoning. Jack gave him a loving look as she set his mug of hot chocolate down. She promptly turned her glare on Ian. Alex was pretty used to their arguments now. Tom was still in bed, like any actually sane person. Alex was not exactly concerned with much of anything at the moment. His mind was elsewhere. He needed to revise the plan for that facility. There was the thing on Friday, like always, where they would be taking care of the friendly neighborhood drug dealer. Alex was tempted to just track him down and plunge a knife in his back but didn't want to risk it badly enough to piss off his friends. Plus, they would probably not like him murdering people left and right. "Why are you up at five in the morning?"

Ian raised an eyebrow. "I have a job."

Alex just kept looking at Ian. "We both know your work doesn't start for at least another three hours."

Ian gave him a look. Alex could see the mirth in his eyes. He was in the mood for a to play - in the verbal sense. Well, Alex could help with that. "Do you, now? Perhaps I got called in early."

Alex snorted into his coffee. "If you were, you wouldn't be on your third cup of coffee, you'd be put the door already."

Ian sighed. "Is true. This is cup of coffee number four, by the way."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Long night?"

Ian gave him the evil eye. "Don't those jokes get a little old?"

Alex smirked. "Oh, so Crawley and you had an argument and you had to sleep on the couch."

Ian barked out a laugh. "Oh, no. Not that it's any of your concern. I was looking into the thing for James."

Alex gave Ian an expectant look. "Finish your breakfast first."

Alex gave Ian a pleading look. "But Ian, I'm dying to know."

Ian was looking thoroughly amused. "Yes. Now you know how I feel whenever you walk off into the ether with no note."

Alex huffed. "You used to do it all the time."

In his opinion, Ian had absolutely no room to talk. Alex heard Jack inhale sharply. In the past life, Alex had never quite gotten the courage to confront Ian about it before Ian had died. Ian shrugged. "Work emergencies."

Alex was in a very bad mood. "Yes, Ian. Well, I was having a mood emergency. I needed my space."

Jack was coughing loudly into her napkin. Alex tried not to use his snippy gems on people he cared for. It didn't always work out that way. "Did you try talking to anybody first?"

Jack was now looking incredulously at Ian. Alex retorted. "Yes. It was their reaction that drove me straight into the German Alps during winter, I'm afraid. Sometimes the snow is preferable to the company, no offense Jack."

Ian just sighed. Jack looked fairly alarmed. They had both previously had some pretty nasty shouting matches in the past. Alex didn't blame her for being nervous. "Do you want to continue this discussion elsewhere?"

Alex placed his fork down gently. He was tempted to slam it down. Alex was practicing controlling his temper. It was more difficult than it should be. Maybe it was the fact that this wasn't life or death. It was important, though. Or, at least, it was important to him. "No, I bloody well don't. Either lead by example or don't bitch about my habits when they match yours. Now, I'm going to bed."

Alex went up the stairs and did not slam his door. It was a close thing, but he didn't want to wake the fluffball or Tom. Alex didn't bother showering and brushed his teeth. Fenrir was still asleep when Alex rejoined him. The wolf opened one sleepy eye and promptly closed it again.

Ian Rider had been awoken by Alex leaving the house. It had been both a relief and not. Alex was probably going to therapy, but Ian had no way of knowing. Alex was not particularly good about telling him where he was going. Crawley, to his credit, had either slept through it or (more likely) just not said anything. It was all Ian could do really. Wait for Jo-Alex to get home. Ian knew letting them blend in his head was a bad idea. It was kind of hard to remember he was standing next to Alex and not John. Especially if Ian hallucinated John there about a quarter of the time. In a few years, Alex would even match his and his brother's height. It was when they argued that Ian remembered that Alex and John were different. John had always pushed to solve the problem. Alex would bicker with you. Ian was trying, but it was close, so close. It was so painful to look at him sometimes. It was not just John, but also Helen. Despite his father's protests, the woman had been impossible not to love. A bit of a fiery temper, but then, that was pretty much all of them. Helen would have bitch-slapped Blunt the minute she saw him look at Alex sideways. Ian wondered if Alex would ever have to death threat Blunt the way they all had. It had just been a mess in the end. Then, they had died. Tulip had given him Alex and Ian had nearly had a stroke. Him? Well, he would try. Ian knew he was failing, though. He wasn't John. He couldn't be a good father and loving husband and the best special operations agent in MI6. He knew he was failing and he couldn't even comprehend why. Ian knew it was because he had been doing his job too long. It had hollowed him out. It was to the point that he couldn't even comprehend what he was doing wrong, he didn't know why or how. It just vaguely felt wrong in the back of his mind. Ian wondered how much of Ian was left, how much of it was Agent Rider, and how much of it was just Shade, the shadow, the remnant. "Ian?"

Starbright was giving him a concerned look. "Yes, Ms. Starbright?"

The woman sighed. "Never mind. Just keep your promise to Alex, okay?"

Ian remembered. The Tower. "I always do."

The woman looked at him with a mix of pity and something he couldn't quite place. "Yes, well, I would try to keep this one. Alex doesn't really do third chances, you know."

With a flash of fire-orange, she was gone, leaving him alone at the head of the table. Ian wondered if it wasn't a subtle hint. It was time to talk to Tulip.

Tulip Jones rarely had visitors, much less unannounced ones, but she could guess who this one was. Her house was always thoroughly checked for bugs. She held her gun pointed at the man through the door just in case. The frame eased as she cracked the door, her heart hammering on instinct. "Ian."

They didn't really bother with the pleasantries as much unless they were making statements to each other. "Tulip. Going to let me in?"

She opened the door. "The doorman will talk."

Ian smirked at her. "Doubtful. We pay them, remember? Besides, Crawley knows I'm faithful."

Tulip let out a sigh. Her heart rate was beginning to go back down. Ian plopped himself onto her couch. He didn't look like he had gotten much sleep if she was honest. "So, I've got a plan. Well, I've got several plans."

Jones shook her head. "It's already taken care of."

Ian paused mid-breath. "What?"

Tulip straightened. "It's already taken care of. I poisoned Alan Blunt."

Ian looked genuinely surprised. "Why? We both know-"

Tulip cut him off. "That you hate killing. Well, yes. I thought it was time to do my own dirty work for a change. Besides, I promised Helen I'd keep her son safe. Alex is the same age as he would have been. I lost my children, Ian. I'm not losing this one, not for Alan Blunt, not again."

Jones hadn't realized that she'd expelled that much breath. Ian shrugged. "Fair enough. Congratulations on your promotion, Director."

Tulip shook her head. "We've got three weeks to come up with something so this doesn't look like an inside job."

Ian sighed. "What did you use?"

Tulip pulled out a dagger. Ian started. It was the knife or a very good copy. "Julia Rothman's knife?"

Jones shook her head. "No. The knives were always twins. Julia had another copy made for me back in the Cold War. You'll notice the patterns are a mirror, not a copy of hers. I thought, well, it was a long time ago and I was new."

Ian looked at her softly. "You thought she was your friend. Or you thought she wouldn't betray you, at the very least."

Tulip sighed. "I was young."

Ian gave her a shrug. "It's okay. I thought I could trust people, too. Nobody really saw Howell coming, you know."

Jones shook her head. "I guess we know better now."

Ian laughed. "Do we, Tulip? Do we? Alan was sizing up a child for recruitment. We didn't see that coming. Who's next, do you think?"

Tulip slapped him. Ian didn't react. "I think I ought to have retired you."

Ian chuckled. "Yeah? And who is going to take my place? They would have died in my place, Tulip. Every single last one of your agents. And one day, I'm going to die, too. You might want to start looking for a replacement."

Tulip sighed. "A task for another day. And I'm sorry for hitting you."

Ian just shrugged, which somehow made it worse. "There isn't anything you can do that will hurt worse than the day you closed that investigation."

Jones sighed. A long time ago, she might have hit him again or screamed at him. "Do you want more breakfast?"

Ian shook his head. "Nah, I mean, you did just poison our boss and talk about retiring me."

The man had got up and out of the door by the time he finished his sentence. "IAN RIDER!"

Jones heard his muffled laugh as he slammed the door behind him. Goddamn him. She had almost gotten him to act serious for fifteen minutes.

Ian got back to the house and to his room just as Crawley woke up for the day. "What are you and Tulip up to now?"

Ian gave Crawley his trademark smirk. "You'll see."

The man rolled his eyes. "Drama. You could just tell me it's classified and Jones is making you keep it a secret."

Ian just grinned. "Don't worry about it. It's mostly taken care of."

John gave Ian the evil eye. "You say that about every mission report and they still come in a month late."

Ian laughed. "Well, they were. I just misplaced them."

Crawley threw his pillow at Ian. "Bullshit! I've filed two-hundred and sixty-seven reports you've forgotten in the past twelve years."

Ian threw his pillow right back at him. "I think you need a pillow fight. Does that include or exclude those late comp forms?"

John Crawley rolled off the bed and threw a pillow at Ian. "That's it damn it! I've had to re-do and file everyone's fuck-ups! Do you know how hard my job is?! Then I have to deal with the psych people and prove that corruption is corruption!"

Ian threw a pillow at him that cut off his rant. Crawley wasn't sure he minded all that much. He threw the pillow back at Ian and beaned him with his pillow. Then, Ian got an evil gleam in his eyes and promptly tackled him. It was gentle and Ian cushioned his head. "How are you feeling now?"

Crawley glanced up. There was a distinct handprint on Ian's face. "Puzzled. Who the fuck slapped you that hard?"

Ian shrugged. "Eh, Tulip."

Crawley was pissed. "Are you shitting me?"

Ian looked puzzled. "Well, no. I was winding her up, John, don't worry about it. Make-up'll cover it if you find it off-putting."

John Crawley glared at Ian. "Off-putting?! She bloody well assaulted you. You even sound like an abuse victim, Christ's sake. It was my fault; I made him mad."

The last part said in a falsetto. Ian sighed. "It's cool. She said sorry."

Crawley huffed. "Fine. But if it happens again, I am bloody well pressing charges."

Ian smiled at him. "You're cute when you're protective."

Author's Note: Sorry it's late. Grief does strange things and school got busy.