This just fills in a little gap on the Alex Rider TV show. It brushes lightly upon some PTSD.

All mistakes are my own because I'm an idiot. Enjoy!

It was late, the moon was high in the sky and the car moved along the road quickly. There was a light spring wind in the air, making things a little colder than the season would usually be, but inside the car it was warm, just shy of too warm. It was like a blanket of warmth in comparison to the outdoors. A young teen at the front of the car was leaning his head against the window, with the waves of exhaustion washing over him like the light of the street lamps they were driving under. His clothes were soaked through, his ears were ringing, there was blood down the side of his face and he felt exhausted. How had school only been some hours before. It felt like it had been a lifetime ago, that he'd just imagined it, or that it had been a dream. He hoped that perhaps this had been the dream that he'd wake up in his own bed and he'd just taken an ill-advised nap after coming home from school. But it wasn't, that wasn't going to happen, what had happened to him had been real. That had all really happened. It had happened to him.

The familiar streets came into view after a while and Alex chose then to sit up slightly. It didn't make him feel any better but he was almost home and that would be all of this officially over, this day could at long last end. He'd be able to go to sleep and relax. He glanced at Jones who soon pulled the car into a parking spot opposite his house. He watched her as it seemed she was trying to find the words to say to him. But he wasn't sure there were any.

"Come in tomorrow, around 7am. We'll debrief on all this, then you can go to school,"

He wanted to say no, to say no to all of it. To walk away from what this was because boy did he feel way over his head with it all. But he glanced back towards the house and could imagine Ian waiting for him, and he knew he had to do it for him. He thought of Jack and knew he was doing this for her, so she wouldn't be forced to leave the country, so he wouldn't end up in care. He looked back at Mrs Jones and just nodded.

"What about my stuff?"

"We'll give that to you tomorrow,"

He nodded and fumbled with the door of the car slightly as he got out. Alex felt the chill wind and shivered lightly. His uniform had not dried much in the drive here. Not as much as one might've thought with the heat blasting in the car. He felt a little unsure on his feet but he didn't look back at Mrs Jones. Instead he kept himself as upright as possible as he closed the door of the car and made his way across the street to home. He felt his pocket for keys and realised a moment too late as Mrs Jones drove off that he didn't have them. They'd been taken off him by his kidnappers..his kidnappers. He looked at the door with a sigh and rang the doorbell. He'd hoped to sneak in quickly and just head straight to bed, but he was undoubtedly going to see Jack this way and she'd see him.

In a suspiciously short space of time the door swung open and despite the gasp of his name, he just walked inside and immediately began taking off his shoes and blazer, ignoring and not even really glancing towards her. He felt Jack take his shoulder and was unable to stop himself from flinching in her grasp in surprise at the touch.

"Wow, Alex, sweetie, it's just me,"

She said, seemingly shocked by his reaction. He just didn't say anything shook his head and focused on putting his shoes on the radiator in a manner that would hopefully dry them quickly. He then glanced round at Jack and met her concerned gaze. She was looking to his soaking uniform, the blood, the cut, to his tired face. He shook his head at her.

"Tomorrow Jack, I'll explain tomorrow,"

He said, near pleading for her to just drop it and let him deal with it tomorrow.

"That cut needs cleaned,"

He pulled away from her hand as she brushed his blonde hair from his forehead to get a better look at the cut. He looked at her and just seemed to find a way to express his point again without saying anything. It would be there tomorrow, she could clean it tomorrow. She didn't seem happy with it, but he shook his head lightly.

"I'm going to get out of these clothes and have a shower. Then I'll go to bed, okay?"

He was already moving around Jack as he spoke, heading upstairs before she could say anything to the contrary. He went to the bathroom and immediately closed and locked the door behind him. He let out a long breath as he just stared at the room around him. The cold was seeping in and the exhaustion was just so heavy.

Alex pulled off the wet uniform, and in some cases, bloody uniform and threw them on to the floor of the bathroom. He looked at the cut on his forehead in the mirror. It wasn't bleeding too much anymore, but the water from the sprinklers had clearly made it bleed a little more. He reached up with shaking fingers to it, prodding lightly and wincing. He didn't have a concussion, or well, he didn't feel like he had one. He looked at his hands and noted the slight bruising around his wrists from the cuffs, he knew they'd fade soon, he'd be surprised if they existed even tomorrow, but it was just then a reminder of what had happened till then.

God. What a test. A test. It had all been a test. They'd done all this as a test. He was already going to do it. He was already going to be going on this stupid mission, why did they need to do that. They didn't, hadn't needed to. God, what kind of people were these. His uncle had been one of these people, he wondered what his uncle might say to all this, if he saw his bruising, the bleeding, the shaking from the cold. Would he just remind him that actions have consequences, would he tell him to do better, be quicker? Would he be proud or disappointed in what he'd done, in what he was doing?

Alex pushed the thoughts aside, the wound of his uncle as fresh as the one on his forehead. He just turned on the shower and using a face cloth at the sink cleaned off some of the blood as the shower warmed up. He would need to take the shower slowly, knowing the shock of changing temperatures wouldn't be good for him. But as he stood before the billowing water of the shower, all he could see were the sprinklers, all he could hear was that song, his own singing. He closed his eyes forcing the memories back as he stepped under the water. They grew more forceful as the water washed over him and he felt his breath coming in rapidly, he felt like he was back there, sitting at a table with that man answering his questions, confused and scared. His heart rate picked up and he had to step back out from under the water. He opened his eyes and rubbed at them, glad for all the water so he couldn't really tell if he was crying or not. He gathered himself, told himself he was being silly and stepped back into the water.

The shower was quick, it helped warm him up, clean away the dirt and blood from the day but he was quick and efficient about it, cursing himself for how he'd acted. He wrapped a towel around himself, grabbed the wet clothes and headed out of the bathroom to his bedroom. He discarded the clothes into the laundry basket and put on his pyjamas. He was sitting on the bed, trying to organise his thoughts staring blankly ahead as Jack popped her head in.

"Do you want something to eat?"

Not trusting that his stomach was entirely settled he shook his head and gave her a weak smile.

"No, not hungry, Mrs Jones gave me something in the car,"

He lied, knowing it was unlikely Jack would back down if she thought he hadn't eaten anything since lunch. She reached for his laundry basket and took out his wet clothes.

"Hopefully these will be dry for tomorrow, but you'll maybe have to go without the blazer tomorrow. I can write a note for the school if you do?"

"I have a spare one. But I need to go somewhere before school,"

"Alex…."

He offered no explanation, no rebuttal, just moved to crawl under the sheets and went to turn off his light.

"Night Jack,"

He left no room for argument, and was pleased when she left and he was able to turn out the light and go to sleep. He wasn't sure how well he would sleep but in the immediacy his tired body demanded he rest. He didn't bother setting an alarm, he knew he'd be up in time for the meeting with them. And if he wasn't he was sure one of them would come get him because that was the sort of people they were.

With a mission coming up he couldn't afford to miss more school.

Alex startled awake a little after the sun had risen. There were the faint noises of movement elsewhere in the house, but his breath was coming in short gasps. He was looking to the window, to the sunlight as it was slowly filling the room. He wasn't sure what nightmare had woken him up but he was shivering without actually being cold. He focused on longer deeper breaths, on pushing it aside, it was over, he had slept long enough he had to just get past it all. The teen managed to get his breathing under control after a few minutes. He glanced at the time and noted that he had to go soon if he was to make the meeting with Blunt and Jones.

Alex listened from where he was sitting on the bed for the sounds of movement, and he was sure he could hear Jack doing things around the house. He knew he needed to get up, for one he was hungry and two because he knew it was only a matter of time before Jack came in here and woke him up so that she could clean the cut on his forehead. It wasn't that painful any more but it wasn't easily forgotten about. His bones did feel stiff and he wasn't feeling particularly well rested. The teen got to his feet and went to get ready for the day. He was careful to look at his wrist, where the bruising had predictably almost completely vanished, that without looking there was no way that anyone would've been able to tell they were there or what they meant. Plus his jumper and then the school uniform would make sure that no one saw it.

Alex ventured downstairs and was immediately shoved into a chair by Jack, food was put in front of him and she demanded to know about what had happened. Reluctantly, and leaving out some of it, he told her. She didn't seem happy and left him by the end with just the thought of if he trusted them. Truly after this he didn't, how could he? They'd shown what they were like, but they were necessary, his help in this would be necessary to find out who had killed his uncle. He had to imagine it would be a one off, he'd have no investment in doing anything for them after this and surely they wouldn't want to rely on a teen for missions. But he cut the discussion short when he had to go and see them. He told Jack where he was headed and though she didn't seem pleased, didn't exactly stop him. Not that she could've, his decision had been pretty made about it. He'd be going on this mission. This meeting with Jones and Blunt would just be cementing it.

It did mean he ended up at school a little later than he was supposed to, missing the first period of the day, though none of the teachers seemed bothered with him doing so. The excuse of his uncle was surely going to serve him well for a bit. He noticed quickly as he walked into the school that people were glancing a little at him, his blonde hair wasn't covering the cut or the redness on his forehead as much as he might've wanted it to. They were whispering about him, trying to hide it but he could tell they were talking about him. The stares and glances, trying to guess how he'd gotten the still very visibly sore cut. Tom caught up with him and given he couldn't even talk about what had happened nor did he want to, his frustration at what had happened just boiled over he was short with him, dismissed him and just powered off to his next class.

It was in his class as the rest of the students filed in and began discussing whatever had gone on the night before, the parties coming up and the homework, that Alex suddenly felt out of place. These people were glancing towards his cut, but they had no idea what had happened. He could safely bet most of these kids hadn't had a night like his. He could safely bet most of these kids hadn't been interrogated by whom he could only assume were army special operations officers. They could guess and gossip about what caused the cut on his forehead but none of them would ever guess it was because his loyalty and resistance to interrogation were being tested in what, at the time, he had thought was a real kidnapping.

Alex glanced at the teacher as they got started and realised that he felt disconnected to his classmates a little, that he felt a little out of place amongst them in a class where not a week ago he'd have felt perfectly at home. Was this how Ian had felt around people? Around situations? Did it go away?

Alex wanted the feeling to go away, he didn't enjoy feeling out of place and disconnected from this class. But with the mission happening at any point soon, he doubted it would.

Perhaps he could only hope it wouldn't get much worse.