Chapter 57: Burning

They were driving back. "So, what's going on?"

Ian paused. "Our family has a thing."

Alex groaned. "Oh, goody."

Ian took a deep breath. "Not that kind of thing. Spinal injections."

Alex looked at Ian. "Why?"

Ian tried and failed to untense his shoulders. "They keep your joints from wearing out."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Really? I feel fine."

Ian sighed. "If you keep up at the rate we're going, you'll have early-onset arthritis without these, Alex."

Alex didn't look happy. Ian couldn't really blame him. "What's the downside?"

Ian internally cringed. "You're going to be deathly ill for the next five days. I mean, excruciating pain, Alex."

Alex frowned. "Why not use morphine?"

Ian parked in the driveway. "Two reasons. I'm not a doctor and I might overdose you by accident. Second, it interferes with what these are supposed to do with your bones."

Alex sighed loudly. "Fine. I'll bloody well do it."

Ian silently thanked his lucky stars that Alex still trusted him for medical procedures. Not that Alex had a choice, but it would make everything easier if there weren't restraints involved. This was probably why twelve-year-olds were not allowed to give medical consent. Not nearly enough questions. Eh, it was for the best anyway. "All right. I'll be with you."

Alex seemed surprised and Ian felt really, really guilty. "Thank you, Ian."

There was technically a tiny chance Alex could die, but he was in excellent health. There was a reason he was so strict about the food and diet. If Alex had eaten on the fattier end of a more normal diet, the chance of the pain stopping his heart would be much higher. Charles had said Alex's arteries were completely clear and his bloodwork was in the top one percent of health. They descended into the basement in silence. Ian supposed he would just have to stay close the whole time. He remembered his injections with a shudder. Even third-degree burns weren't that bad. Ian had already told Jack to not expect him to appear very much. Alex wouldn't need food or water for the next few days. Ian knew he could survive on MRE's just fine. Everything was in place. Ian knew he just had to keep from crying until after he finished the injections. The basement was a fully stocked area for several reasons. This was one of them. Ian looked at him. "Ready?"

Alex rolled his eyes and took off his shirt. It was surprisingly easy to turn his back on Ian. Alex knew he could at least trust the man with his life. For all his exasperation with Ian's health nuttery, Alex could tell the man cared. "Sure."

Alex felt Ian's hands on his back. Surprisingly, it triggered no survival responses. Alex reflected rather dryly that if Ian wanted to kill him, he was welcome to it. All Alex felt at first was three faint pinches. Ian looked him in the eyes. "Alex, I'm so sorry."

The burn was beginning to spread. "I want you to know that I love you and I'm sorry if I messed up."

It now felt like his veins were all being warmed at the same time. Then, it was as if every cell burst into flames. Alex screamed. Oh, god, it burned. It felt like the time his back was set on fire, except everywhere. Alex felt his mind rapidly shutting down as the only thing that he could feel was pain. This better be worth it. Alex felt his muscles spasm. He was failing miserably at not screaming. Alex felt his consciousness begin to fade out, but he felt Ian's arms around him and the distant, faint sounding of sobbing. Well, at least Ian was keeping one freaking promise to him.

Ian felt a stab of overwhelming guilt at the first scream. He'd seen a lot of people tortured, but this was Alex. Ian began to sob with Alex in his arms, all but writhing in agony. Ian wondered whether this was really for the best. There were probably physical limits to what the human body could withstand without alterations for a reason. At least Alex seemed to be mostly passed out by now. Ian wondered if he should be relieved or not. He was going to set up an IV since Alex would need fluids, but five days wasn't really worth a feeding tube. Ian could barely stand to leave the room long enough to get the stuff. It physically hurt to look at Alex, especially now that he was utterly vulnerable. Ian sat in the bed directly across from his nephew and put his face in his hands. Alex had already met several of SCORPIA's finest and been involved in at least three separate investigations. It was one thing when Alex might have a normal life. Ian wasn't sure it was possible for him anymore, which was why he had changed his mind about following this particular family custom. It had served him well, after all, he was past thirty-five and had no sign of joint or cartilage damage. This was despite nearly two decades keeping his fitness standards well past the army baseline and a physically demanding career in Special Operations and as an assassin. There was no hearing damage to speak of, either. The injections were pretty miraculous aside from their hideous side-effects. Part of it was diet and keeping fit, but part of it was the stuff that they injected into their children. Patrick was likewise untouched by anything joint-related, despite forty years of exercising four to six hours a day at least. The man had invented a style to combat the one taught by Malagasto. With the rate Alex was getting shot at, Ian hadn't wanted to risk it for much longer. Ears were particularly delicate. Marion had been surprisingly easy to convince. Ian suspected it was because she actually liked Alex. At least Alex would be the last one. This time the alterations would be imbedded in Alex's DNA to the point that they would be passed on to any kids. Ian wondered if he shouldn't send Alex to study under Patrick. The man was retired. He was perfectly qualified to teach Alex and he had more time. Ian just didn't like him or how he ran his family. Then again, Alex still wanted to live with him and Ian had killed more SCORPIA assassins. Ian was wearing armor just in case anyone tried anything. The house was well-fortified, but Alex was going to be helpless for the last time for the next five days. Ian ran hands through Alex's hair and expertly slid the IV in and taped it into place. Ian wasn't the squeamish type, but it was a little different when it came to sticking needles in Alex or seeing him bleed. Ian sighed. This was going to be a long wait. He had brought work, but at the moment wasn't reading the words on the page he'd been staring at for the last hour. Ian shut the file and sighed. Damn Jones and her fucking paperwork. Ian glanced at Alex. He walked over and checked his heart rate for about the tenth time that hour. Ian decided to give up on work right about then.

Alex woke up, but he was no longer in his house. "Where am I?"

A very familiar figure in grey appeared. "Where the fuck do you think?"

It was Grim. Alex let out the breath he was holding. "What's going on?"

Grim's smile matched his name. Alex shuddered. It was almost like seeing Alan Blunt smile. "Ian, Ian, Ian. So well-meaning. Such a dumb little fuck sometimes."

Alex had stood and formed a fist before he realized what he was doing. "Temper, Shortstack."

Alex grit his teeth and sat back down. "Well, your uncle in all his bad parenting glory decided to perform the family medical experiment on you. You do know your family are genetic freaks after taking this shit, right? People are supposed to get joint problems when they have routines on par with ballerinas. Gramps should have arthritis, but I digress. Physical enhancements aside, you might notice some fun, fun mental side-effects. You know, reduced empathy, that sort of thing. And you'll have a terrible reaction to opioids, don't take them unless you have to."

Alex just stared at Death. "Um."

Death sighed and continued his rant. "Besides, what Ian doesn't know is that he's opened the door."

Alex decided to interrupt. "The door for what?"

Death shrugged. "Well, all those physical enhancements I've always wanted to try. I've never had an official pet not-quite-human before. I'm kind of excited."

Alex started to back away. This was sounding a little too close to one of the villains he'd run into. "Oh, sit down, Dumbass. This is happening in your head and it's too late to back down now."

Alex felt a burn in his hand. It reminded him of the hideous burning he'd passed out from. "Careful."

Alex realized his hand was actually on fire in the dream. The blueish whiteish flame was oddly less painful in his dream. "What the fuck, Grim? Can't you stop it?"

Grim was suddenly at his side, lowering himself to the ground with unnatural grace. Alex sat down next to him. "Sorry, kid. Old you gets burned."

Alex stared into Grim glowing green eyes. He felt almost betrayed. The flame was consuming his arm. "Why?"

Grim shrugged. "It is the way of things. Old you burns to ash and new you reforms. Don't worry, you'll still have your old memories. It'll just be less...cumbersome in that mind of yours."

Alex stared upwards at Grim. It was almost overwhelming to speak. "Will this happen every time?"

Grim looked almost sympathetic. "No. It's usually a little nicer, but Uncle Dumbshit forced my hand here."

Alex looked up at Grim and managed to force out another question. "What will happen to me?"

Grim looked at him. Alex saw that green-black flames were erupting from his hands. "That's up to you, Phoenix."

And then Grim set him on fire. Well, even more on fire than he already was in his dream. It was a small mercy, Alex supposed. He would burn much faster now, so it would be less painful. The garden faded from view in favor of events from his life. Both his lives. Alex leaned back as the odd mix of different kidnappings melded into one. His early years on both ends ended. Next was two sets of being ten, being eleven, being twelve. Then, his second life ended. His first life continued to rush past in his mind as his torso burned. Alex couldn't talk now even if he tried. First being thirteen, then that awful day when Ian died. He watched as hundreds of people died all over again. The hideous revenge he had taken. Finally, as his heart burned he saw Jack die twice again. Tom's death was the last thing he saw. Alex felt the tears come to his eyes. The flame consumed him entirely.

Alex woke up in a completely different setting. It was a garden of some sort. It looked vaguely Japanese. Grim was sitting at the edge of a picture-perfect waterfall. "What is this place?"

Grim rolled his eyes. "Your mind."

Alex looked at Grim. "It was all black and dead before."

Alex got up and headed toward the gazebo. In the center of it was something that reminded him of a gravestone. There were characters carved into the marble. "What do they say?"

He only read Mandarin. "Conformity to society at all costs."

Alex felt his mood twist. "Why the fuck is that here?"

Grim shrugged. "I don't know. This is your head."

Alex felt his lips twist. "So, is it dead or not?"

Death just looked at him. "I'm starting to think bringing back Crazy, the teen assassin, was a bad move."

Alex felt a manic grin appear on his face. "Oh, Grim. It's a bit late now."

Grim shook his head. "So, feel any different?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Amazingly non-burny."

Grim sighed. "It won't last, Shortstack. You've still got about three days after my mind shenanigans end."

Alex sighed. "Why? Why would he do this?"

Grim sat down on one of the pavilion's benches. Alex remembered them vaguely from Versailles. "Well, for one, Ian is just as batshit crazy as you are. This will give you a distinct advantage in assassin-land. Two, he's afraid and this was the way he was taught to make someone more durable, per se. Three, he's a selfish bastard and this will bring you closer to both him and Johnny-boy mentally. Unfortunately for him, it won't give him the mental advantage on you he's hoping for. Whoops, my death magic slipped, sorry. I mean, he cares about you, but he's just incapable of being a good parent. Last but not least, he figured that even if this had a small chance of death for you, you would most likely be fine."

Alex felt a flash of red. "You're telling me I could have died?!"

Grim sat down. "Not really, I wouldn't actually let you, but Ian doesn't know that."

Alex threw up his hands. "For the love of-"

Grim cut him off with a handwave. "Look, you knew he was batshit by now."

Alex hissed. "Yeah, but I didn't think he'd pull a stunt like this."

Grim gestured to the bench next to him. "Really? This is the same guy who brought to a warzone, an area controlled by a dangerous drug dealer, taught you how to hunt in the wilderness miles away from a hospital, let you drive a stolen tank, and taught you how to pick-pocket." Alex sighed. Grim continued his rant. "Don't get me started on his little stunt with bombing Alan Blunt's office and teaching you how to make explosives."

Alex fixed Grim with a look. "Just shut up, Grim."

Grim retorted. "Why, so you can repress your memories of Ian's blatant reckless endangerment?!"

Alex snapped. "Fuck you! It wasn't supposed to be like this."

Grim vanished. Alex let out a scream of rage that transformed into one of pain. The fire was back.

Ian Rider let out a sigh of relief as the monitor reported Alex's steady, but elevated heart rate. He had lasted this long, so he would live. If they died, it was always the first forty-eight hours. Ian felt his phone buzz. It was Crawley. "Ian where are you?"

Ian tried to keep his weariness from slipping into his tone. "With Alex. I'll be with Alex for the next three days. What's up?"

Crawley sighed. "Jones has been bugging everyone about your location. Why did you disappear?"

Ian lied smoothly. "There was a threat made. It's been taken care of now, but Alex is going to be in bed for the next few days and I need to stay with him."

Crawley sighed loudly over the phone. "I'll just fill out your leave paperwork."

Ian grinned. "Thank you, John."

John hung up on him. Ian was glad one of them remembered these things. His gaze returned to Alex who seemed to jolt, almost awake, and scream in agony. He stared and ran his hands through his hair. Three more days. Alex just had three more days. Ian could only hope his sanity lasted that long. A few people had been driven into insanity. Ian mentally sighed. This was John's son. He would be fine. Ian walked over to his current paperwork stack. Alex's vocal cords wouldn't be lasting very long. He decided to check the IV first. The bag was still in decent shape, but Alex might writhe in agony or have more muscle spasms, so he was checking if it was still in. On the final day, he'd have to immobilize the arm. It was almost guaranteed that Alex would be moving too much for that. Ian rubbed his eyes. Tulip was not going to be happy with him. Then again, Blunt was still the boss for two more weeks. The man wasn't looking so great, but Ian had the 'tact' not to say anything. Ian looked at the papers Marion had given him. He was sorting them into 'meh', 'horrifying', and 'absolutely horrifying' piles. Ian just didn't think Alex was quite ready for papers on torture an interrogation methods quite yet. It just didn't sit right with him. Ian vaguely wondered where Alex was in reading his medical textbooks. It was possible that Alex would be a bit more like him mentally after this. He was hoping for it. Ian had been tactically unable to predict Alex as he was. It was interesting that Alex had been a blind spot. Ian usually didn't miss details. Almost everyone in the family had excellent memories before the injection and became functionally eidetic in some fashion after. He suspected that if enough generations of each family got injected, it would cause permanent changes to their genetic line. This was technically a way of cheating. It forced them away from the average as opposed to towards. Ian hoped nobody noticed the difference. Some of the family members took very 'well' to the enhancements. With John, it ended up that the man had reached superhuman levels of speed and the upper end of strength. Without steroids. Ian himself had taken more of his fair share of non-lethal eight-story falls. Alex's grandfather was still notorious for his battle tactics. Marion's sniper range was off the charts. Ian took a deep breath. Only time would tell. Ian ran his hands through his hair and returned to his files.

Alex felt the fire finally beginning to fade. His fingers felt slightly less agonizing. The lessening was beginning to spread. Alex felt his eyes snap open and inhaled. His fingers were cooled entirely. He inhaled again. It no longer burned to breathe, but his throat was sore. Probably from the screaming. The burning faded entirely. His muscles felt very sore. Alex moved to get up and found his right arm restrained. Ian was sitting by the bed. "Doing okay?"

Alex felt his lips twitch. "Fine. Can you get this thing off my arm?"

Alex noticed his arm already had several layers of bandages that were partially chewed through by the restraints. "Of course. I had to put it on because you were moving too much for the IV fluids."

Alex felt like he'd been in the hospital for a few days. The restraint came off. "So, what's the damage?" His arm was faintly painful, but it was nothing compared to the hideous burning from before. "What day is it?"

Ian continued peeling back the bandages. Alex wished they could be any color besides hospital-white. It reminded him of too many unpleasant memories. "Not too bad. It's Thursday. We have a trip to the Tower tomorrow if you're up for it."

Alex was shocked at the sight of his arm. In the past life, this would have registered as at least a throbbing annoying pain. Now it felt barely there. "Why doesn't it hurt as much as it should?"

Ian frowned. "Your nerves are still recovering from the shock. Also, your pain threshold has been pretty permanently raised, for obvious reasons."

Alex remembered that he hadn't gotten any injuries like this in the current life. He looked at his arm. This would cause a scar. It looked like a swirl and went almost around his wrist. The red, raw wound was still dripping blood. Alex guessed he'd gotten it in the past twenty-four hours. Alex shrugged. He would probably manage. Ian got up and offered him a hand. Alex took it. "I want a shower."

Ian chuckled. "Yeah, that was pretty much the first thing I said, too."

Alex rolled his eyes and slowly got up. Pretty much every muscle he owned was sore, but not too stiff. He was surprised there wasn't more bruising. It was shower time.

Alex stepped into the bathroom and looked into the mirror. The pale child staring back at him looked all wrong. The bags under his eyes were so dark that they looked like bruises. His wrist was bright red and shredded. Alex felt a sudden surge of anger and the urge to punch the mirror in front of him. He just wanted to be himself again. Except he didn't because then Ian and Tom and Jack would be dead. Alex inhaled slowly. Ian had helpfully laid out clothes and towels. He turned on the water and made it hot. Scorching hot. To the point where he could barely stand to touch it. He made a mental note to burn all of his white clothes. They reminded him of hospital gowns. Besides, it had been a while since he'd accidentally destroyed stuff in some sort of hideously planned science experiment. Jack loved it when he did that. Totally. Tom would probably down for anything involving him and fire. Fenrir. Alex groaned. The fluff was probably a nervous wreck without him. Ian probably hadn't told Jack or Tom squat, come to think of it. Yassen. Shit. Yassen was going to kill him. It had been five days. Alex prayed nothing had caught Yassen's attention and caused him to text Alex about it. Alex felt his first arrant thought pop into his head. It was a way to get Jet interested in his new exotic pet plant. Alex vaguely remembered her griping about limited space in the greenhouse. Hydroponics easily had more layers where traditional gardens didn't. As far as Alex knew, the earliest devices wouldn't be proposed for years. He could just fork the designs over to Jet as "an experiment" that would "just happen" to work the first time around for two people. Perhaps he would even keep his same first name. People wouldn't think to connect John Rider's son with botany, now would they. Maybe the first initial only. "A" was perfectly anonymous. Jet read Arabic, right? Alex was sure that the woman could get it translated if she didn't. They had on-campus language teachers. Alex distinctly remembered Arabic was offered. It would be another connection with the Malagasto, but Alex felt like there weren't very many adults within the "identification and classification field". Ian had commented that it was a dying field because of funding issues. Alex had heard the rant about 'the dying curiosity of society' one too many times. Oh, well. If Alex learned different lessons from Ian's lectures than he was supposed to, then it was Ian's fault, now wasn't it? He supposed he could start a binder. Ian wouldn't notice them missing. Crawley did most of the paperwork now. Alex shut off the shower. It was dinner time. He hoped Jack had made something good.

Jack Starbright was not best pleased when both Alex and Ian disappeared for a few days. Usually, it was one or the other. Jack was also perfectly sure Crawley knew something and wasn't saying anything. Another long sigh came from Tom, who was attempting to glare down Crawley with all the effectiveness of a limp noodle. Jack would have been more amused if she didn't want answers herself. "Crawley, I swear to-"

Suddenly a flash of blond appeared. "Be nice to Crawley, Jack. It's Ian keeping secrets again."

The very boy she had been concerned about had appeared, as though by magic. Crawley visibly relaxed. "Alex, what happened?!"

Alex had chosen short sleeves and realized it was now a very poor choice. "Don't worry about it, Jack. I had an Ian accident and had to go to the hospital for a few days."

Jack rolled her eyes. "And nobody could just spit that out because?"

Alex shrugged. He felt a little bad manipulating the situation to his abject advantage. Less bad than he should. "I was medically unconscious. Ask Ian."

Jack's eyes flared. They both knew Ian was not going to answer any questions about him. "Do you want dinner?"

Alex brightened. "Yes, thank you."

Jack plated some of her ten-minute fajitas. Alex thought they smelled rather delicious. Fenrir walked right up to his chair and sat right beside it, giving Alex an expectant look. Alex snorted with laughter. "You're lucky you need massive amounts of food, fluff, or else you'd be fat."

The wolf cocked its ears at him. And licked the back of his good arm. "You're not subtle, you know that right."

Tom was shaking his head the exchange. "Spoiled rotten, that one."

Alex raised an eyebrow at him. "You feed him too, as I recall."

Fenrir was now eyeing his plate. Alex feared for the safety of his dinner and quickly handed over a sliver of beef. Jack just pretended she didn't see it. Dinner went more smoothly that way. Alex adopted an innocent expression that Jack knew spelled trouble. "Hey Tom, do you want to do a science experiment?"

Jack hoped this would be outside, she really did. Hardwood floors were expensive. And very flammable. Tom perked up. "Sure."

Jack was ninety percent sure the two were both closet pyromaniacs. There was no way all those explosions could be unintentional. "What's the science experiment?"

Alex grinned. "Explosive candles."

Crawley groaned. Dear God, he could just feel the cramps from the cover-up paperwork now. Tom cheered up visibly. "Great!"

Ian just looked amused. "Just set out something so the ash doesn't get everywhere, Boys."

Jack shot Ian a betrayed look. "What? I'm curious too."

Jack rolled her eyes. "At least now I know where he gets it from."

Ian gave her a very Alex grin. "Well, you know, curiosity is a wonderful trait."

Jack went back to her dinner. At least Crawley would commiserate with her.

Alex waited until he was alone to text Yassen. Thankfully, the man seemed to have been swamped with work and hadn't pinged him about anything.

-C

So, do you have Jet's email?

-A

Yassen raised an eyebrow at his phone. If Alex wanted poison, he could supply it. Why would he need Jet? Should he give it to Alex? It would be another odd little connection to his world. But then, that was the end goal. Besides, what was the worst Jet could do by email?

-A

Why do you want it?

-C

Alex huffed. Such suspicion. This was almost getting to Ian levels. Then again, he was asking for an email for someone who knew poison stuff. Alex shrugged. It wasn't like Yassen had the needed lab space.

-C

Botany stuff. It needs a lab. A kind of lab that you don't have.

-A

Yassen raised an eyebrow at his phone. What on Earth was Alex planning? What could he possibly need a lab for? The only thing Yassen could think of that Alex wouldn't also have access to was a mass spectrometer and an autoclave. But why would he need either of them?

-A

I don't know what you need an autoclave and/or mass spectrometer for and I don't want to know. Be careful. I'll send it via encrypted email. The subject line will contain a question only you and I can answer. The answer will be a password.

-C

Alex grinned. This would be fun. He kind of liked trolling the SCORPIA operatives he knew existed. The next text nearly stopped his heart. Alex had thought Yassen wouldn't keep track of his shenanigans with Chase for very long.

-A

You wouldn't happen to know about a certain British laboratory that is now a crater, now would you?

-C

Alex felt a little defensive. It wasn't exactly risk-free to tell SCORPIA to go away and not do what they wanted. Especially since he didn't have backing of any kind. Besides, it wasn't that bad. Just a bit of stealing and expensive property destruction.

-C

I got bored. And I got pissed at Ian. Besides, it wasn't like an assassination mission or anything.

-A

Yassen looked at the message and was not impressed. No, it was harder than an assassination mission. It had been specifically designed to create surveillance footage of "Alec Pierre". Yassen was nearly certain. It was fortunate Alex was remarkably good at avoiding or destroying cameras. He was not about to let Alex get away without comment, however.

-A

Tell that to the guards who died from your flechette canister.

-C

Alex looked at the text a felt a small stab of guilt. He wasn't sure Yassen was telling the truth. He looked up at the ceiling and let out a sigh. "Maddox? Is he telling the truth?" Alex felt his other phone buzz. For a second, he was afraid of the answer. Then, he shrugged. It wasn't like he hadn't been a mass murderer in the past life.

-A

Yes. There were six fatalities and the last guard is in critical condition.

-M

Alex closed his eyes and sucked in a breath. Oh, well. They had signed up for the job. It wasn't risk-free. Plus, they had volunteered to be involved. Alex hadn't. Well, he hadn't originally and this Ian was way worse about not getting him involved.

-C

They signed up for the job. They knew what it would entail.

-A

Cossack looked at his phone. Alex's excuses were getting weaker by the month. He hadn't expected such a quick transformation. Did Alex feel resentful of MI6 for taking so much of Ian's attention? There was no real way to gauge without actually seeing him.

-A

Are we so different?

-C

Alex stared at the phone. He didn't have an answer. His mind felt full. There was knowledge there. He didn't want to think about it. Tom would be at school the next day. Alex would be with Ian at the Tower. They could do the candle experiment after school hours. Alex looked at his desk. It was time to build one of his prototypes. He hadn't meant to start creating them, but it was kind of nice. There were now multiple binders and Alex had needed to group them by type of device. The wall had lost more plaster, but Alex couldn't bring himself to get rid of any of them. Ian would throw a fit about his inventions and probably some of the stuff he had written. Plus, it forced him to learn more information because of the practical applications. Alex had a glass mason jar, a real candle, and pieces for a small explosive in his desk. The tricky part would probably be the trigger mechanism. Then again, this didn't have to be perfect since it wasn't going to be used in the field. He locked his door and grabbed one of the binders from the wall. The designs were disguised as drawings, but only in color. Any engineer worth their salt could probably build his devices from the drawings, give or take a few adjustments and prototypes. Alex fondly traced the edges of his drawing. It was beautiful. Plus, explosive candles. Alex felt like it was hilarious. Normally candles were supposed to be delicate and gentle little decorations. He felt like the molten glass shards were a particularly brutal twist. There were also glasses that could make the shards toxic at that temperature, but a normal mason jar wouldn't do that. His notes were written in Latin, but it wasn't much of a security measure. Alex was ninety percent sure there were entire hordes of academics that could read Latin. Alex took another look at his notes and began a partial write-up on the back of the sheet in yellow. It was time to build.

Alex was woken by an eerily cheerful Ian at four in the morning. "Ian, I'm pretty sure the Tower is not open before eight."

Ian was not at all dissuaded. "Aren't you excited?"

Alex rubbed his eyes. "I'd be more excited if you woke me up two hours later. Also, why do I need to be up at four in the morning?"

Ian glanced at his desk. "Nice candle."

Alex gave Ian a look. "What?! I want one."

Thankfully, Tom was hiding the scorpion he'd stolen from MI6. It was almost more trouble than it was worth. Alex shook his head. "I'll make you one for your birthday, Ian."

Ian looked very happy at the thought. Alex wondered whether staying with Ian was even worth it sometimes. It was a lot of trouble. He had to ditch supervision with regularity. The man could be controlling at times and he pulled crap like genetically altering him without telling him all the side-effects. Alex could easily see the benefits, but he could have died. He got dressed quickly. Ian, as it turned out, wanted to do double sword practice. Alex held back a groan. He liked to exercise, but not before six in the morning. He wasn't Yermalov, thank you very much. Alex was finally let go to shower again at seven in the morning. This was not cool. Ian wanted to sword practice in the evening, again. His muscles were going to be sore as it was. Ian had him ditch most of his obvious weapons. "What is the point of training with these if I am just going to leave them behind?"

Ian just gave him a warning look. Alex sighed and put his knives down. Ian made him breakfast. It was nice. Plus, Jack hated cooking and early mornings. Ian looked at him. "How do you feel now?"

Alex stretched a bit more. "A bit stiff to be honest."

Ian looked at him. "Yeah, there are stretches for that."

It was odd. "Why do I feel stiff but not sore?"

Ian just looked at him. "Injections."

Alex sighed. This was just weird. And his warm-up had taken forever, even by his and Yassen's standards. Ian plated their food. "It'll be harder for you to build muscle, but yours will be denser."

Alex frowned. "Why is that an improvement?"

Ian placed the silverware down. "They're closer to a predator's muscles. Less lactic acid build-up and more force per pound."

Alex sat down. That probably should have spoiled his appetite, but his stomach still felt perfectly settled. "My psychosomatic responses?"

Ian shrugged. "Unless you come across rotting corpses of children, you'll probably be fine. Maybe even then." Alex was filled with the sudden urge to punch the man in the face. Why didn't you tell me any of this?! He was able to resist screaming. The air slowly left his lungs. "Finished?"

Alex's attention snapped back to the present. "Yes."

Ian all but bounced to his feet. "Let's go, then."

Alex wondered how he'd never noticed before. No thirty-five-year-old man should be able to move that fast. The details of the wood were suddenly interesting. It was time to brush his teeth.

For a tourist attraction, the Tower of London was surprisingly empty. Then again, it might have to do with the fact that they had gotten there an hour before it was open to the general public. It had started raining the minute they had gotten there. Alex had sighed. He knew the wet clothes and chilly weather should be affecting him more, but couldn't bring himself to complain. It was kind of nice to just feel warm despite being in a damp, drafty old castle. Alex would swear the place was designed to make anyone unfortunate enough to be imprisoned there as miserable as possible. The walls were the kind of grey he associated with Alan Blunt. Ian was excited. Alex would swear he was vibrating. Ian had started them on the various suits of armor. Alex would swear Ian knew more than the tour guides who were paid for this sort of thing. The eventually moved on to the torture devices, all of which Alex was very familiar with. What? He'd gotten curious and his "totally legal" textbooks had references to other books in the back and suggested extended reading. He'd gotten a little too into it and written a short book of his own to summarize the critical information and a short version of the history books, which were shockingly dry for books about torture. Alex had rewritten the best parts so that even Tom would have fun reading them. Tom hated reading. Alex wondered if his friend was dyslexic and made a mental note to ask Belinda for a test for him. It would explain a lot. Alex knew he could probably help his friend out if that was the case. There'd be paperwork, but Ian would probably sign anything Alex put in front of him. They slowly moved through the Tower. It was almost eerily quiet. They moved onto the temperature-controlled room with the Crown Jewels. Alex personally doubted they were real. They glittered wrong for precious gems and if he was the owner of those suckers, they would be in a very secure bank vault somewhere. Alex tuned in for that. "And this one was acquired as a wedding gift in…" Once they got past that, they went to see the Royal Mint. Alex vaguely wondered if they kept the actual artifacts on display, or if they were just very good copies. It wasn't like they could pick up the coins and weigh them. They got out of there at about noon. Alex had been surprised at the sheer amount of information Ian could spew that he could now perfectly recall. He could recall it word for word. At least, the parts he had paid attention to. Alex shrugged. Well, his memory where Ian was concerned had always been heightened. Alex glanced at Ian hopefully as they passed a fish and chips stand. His uncle had rolled his eyes. "Oh, alright Alex, stop looking like your dog died."

Alex grinned. "You know you wanted to."

Ian shook his head. "I'm going to get heartburn, I tell you, heartburn."

Alex snorted. "That's what you get for being a health nut, Ian."

Ian playfully swatted him. "Am not."

Alex gave Ian an indignant look. "You tried to get me to eat raw broccoli with no dressing."

Ian huffed. "It's a perfectly valid snack."

Alex gave Ian a look. "I'm twelve, not stupid, Ian."

Ian threw his hands up in mock exasperation. "I tried."

Alex rolled his eyes. "What, to torture my taste buds?"

Ian just shook his head. "You're going to die of high cholesterol at thirty at this rate."

Alex huffed. "Worth it."

Ian started laughing. "You're awful."

Alex batted his eyes and pasted on an innocent expression. "But you love me anyway."

Ian just gave him an amused look. "We should probably head back now. Practice."

Alex groaned. "Again?!"

Ian just looked at him. The man was amused. "Yes."

The rest of the family piled in at around dinner time. Alex felt like the skin on his hands and feet was about to chafe off, but knew better than to complain. Tom was his usual bouncy self. Alex felt himself smile slightly at Tom's antics. Tom looked him dead in the eyes and offered Alex a hand to hold. Alex took it. "Right. So, we're heading to Paris soon. I've arranged the flights…"

Ian went on for quite a while. Alex knew he'd be repeating himself three other times. Alex had already heard most of the plan. It seemed like it would be a fun trip. Tom was looking a little wide-eyed. Alex gave him a reassuring look. He felt his best friend's finger run across the back of his hand. Fenrir was in his usual spot at Alex's side. "Any questions?"

Alex felt a sense of amusement. Ian reminded him of someone else he'd known in the past life. Alanna had been many things, but she had run their trips like a smooth military operation. She had only been slightly older than him. Alex had fond memories of his partner in crime/mass murder. Tom looked at him funny. "What?"

Tom rolled his eyes. "You know, I was thinking."

Alex looked amused. "Now we're in trouble."

Tom swatted him. "Shush. So, we'll have free time in Paris-"

Alex gave Tom a look. "I'm not vandalizing any national monuments."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Not that. We should do one of your artsy things."

Ian picked that moment to eavesdrop. "What artsy things?"

Tom scowled at the man. "Like, Alex likes I dunno, one of the painty opera things."

Alex[v1] sighed. "Tom, it's not that uncommon. You have an opera singer and then the artists paints whatever they feel inspired to, from the music."

Tom rolled his eyes. "Fine, one of your totally non-weird artsy things. I want a fancy dinner."

Alex grinned. "Done."

Ian was looking at them with a mix of amusement and exasperation. "Alex, we need to talk."

Alex did his best not to groan. More sword practice. Dear God, his arm was going to fall off. Tom looked very concerned, but let Alex go with Ian. As soon as Tom was out of earshot, Alex had to ask. "More sword practice?"

Ian's grin was very much manic. "You bet."