I actually had finished this a while back, I couldn't bring myself to post it because my laptop was just a pain to booth up. Got a new laptop now so the faster booting up process and the better interface got me pumped to post the rest of what I need to. Anyway Enjoy! Two more chapters to go!
"What's your new year's resolution? ." Ben smirked as he repacked the duffel bag Alex had brought for the mission.
Almost a week in a coma and two days of physical examinations and Alex was cleared for air travel- escorted air travel in a private jet that is. It would be months before Alex could be cleared for missions. Heck, it would be weeks before he'd be cleared for solid foods. It was a transfer from the hospital in Cairo and back to Saint Dominic's.
Alex would have looked forward to going back to school on the 10th of January. The GCSEs are only getting closer and miles away from home he could already feel the pressure. It was still a struggle for him to sit up, let alone be strong enough to walk to school on his own and the doctors had all advised against him going back.
"Ask all you want, the advise of the doctors in England won't change." Jack had said when he had brought up going back to school.
The paperwork was all done. Alex had an excuse letter, a private tutor waiting and of course, Tom who as soon as he found out the news, gladly agreed to collecting notes on his GCSE subjects for Alex.
"The usual. Try not to get killed" Alex said weakly as he settled back on the bed and looked out the window. The rain was almost calming and Alex could easily drift back to recalling his dream of a few nights ago, his mother, Tom, Jack, Ben. He didn't have to ask them to know that he was on the verge of death. They didn't mention anything at all about it but he could see in Ben and Jack's faces, the mental exhaustion of the wait and the relief that the ordeal was all finally over.
Jack had started to hold him like he was breakable and maybe he was. The doctor talked about a messed up digestive system and a deflated lung. He would be back in surgery a few times in St. Dominic's. Alex had found himself dozing off against his will when the doctor had explained to the others his medical condition. He had made a mental note to ask Jack about it later. With his constant struggle to breathe and his appetite that had dwindled to two bites of jelly at a time, Alex guessed he was more of a mess than he was aware of and he found himself to scared to ask.
Focus on the healing process. He told himself.
"Hey… you asleep?"
Dozing off had started to become a habit ever since he woke up and Alex silently scolded himself as he looked back at Ben. "I'm fine."
"If that's your idea of fine sure." Ben joked. "Jack will be coming back in the afternoon to pick us up then straight to the airport from there."
"Wolf?" Alex continued, ignoring the light joke.
"Earlier flight back to England. The jet Mrs. Jones called for can only hold so many people comfortably."
Alex nodded. There was nothing else to say. He still got short of breath every now and then so he decided to keep to himself while he was still recovering. The others noticed and at the least compensated by oversharing on their side.
Alex may have dozed off again. The next thing he knew was he woke up to the door opening and Mrs. Jones coming in, a couple behind her.
Alex didn't recognize the man or the woman and only started to put the pieces together when the young boy appeared right behind them, his face immediately lighting up when he saw Alex.
Ben excused himself and Alex was alone facing the ambassador. He didn't do anything wrong. He shouldn't have been nervous. The difference in appearance and attire were stark though and it did much to affect their demeanor. Alex was sickly, pale in a hospital gown. They were all healthy and in business attire. Their son was in a polo and he looked much healthier than when Alex had last seen him. Alex wouldn't think that he was the same boy he had saved.
Mrs. Jones introduced the man as an ambassador of England and the woman behind him and his son as his family. She didn't have to mention the hostage situation. Alex only needed to see the boy behind them to know what they were there for.
The man cleared his throat. "We heard you're leaving today and we wanted to send our regards. All hospital bills were paid and you're good to go. It's the least we can do."
The woman came up front and dropped a small gift bag by his bedside. "This is a pretty late Christmas gift. You were in a coma for a while and we thought you wouldn't make it. As soon as we found out you were okay, we bought you a gift, something to bring back with you to England. We can't forget the boy who saved our son."
Alex reached out for the gift bag by his bedside, holding it closer to himself. "Thank you." He managed to say. It was a mixture of shame and exhaustion holding him back from saying more. They looked like they understood.
The couple looked at each other. "Our son wants to talk to you privately. We'll get some coffee outside." The man explained. The two exited the room but not before pushing their son closer to the bed.
"Cub. That's what they called you..." The boy started.
With his face only inches away from his, Alex managed a good look at the boy, full cheeks, blond hair and blue eyes. The ordeal back at Christmas could have been nothing but a distant nightmare to the boy in front of him. The worried look betrayed his otherwise clean appearance. "Cub?" Alex knew of course that the was his nickname.
"That's all I could remember from back then about you. They took you away before I could find out anything else. Before I knew it I was back home, safe. If you came any later, I probably would have been dead."
Typical for most hostage situations but still, Alex couldn't hide his surprise. Hostages were more valuable alive than dead.
"They were already planning to kill me and send my body to my father." The young boy explained. "They didn't care about any ransom, they had other plans with my death. They wanted to break my family. I don't understand the politics of it but all I knew is I didn't wanna die far away from home on Christmas day. I didn't want my father to wake up to my cut off head. I was so scared…"
When the boy started to tear up, Alex reached out his hand and placed it on the boy's and squeezed. Just reaching out left Alex exhausted and he had to settle back down on the bed, letting the hand hang limp only a second later.
"You had to spend your holidays here instead of at home. I was stupid. I didn't listen to my parents when they told me to stay home for the holidays. I snuck out with some of my friends to the lake for Christmas break. He looked unsure as he scanned Alex from head to toe. "I'm really sorry this had to happen."
Alex felt almost naked in his hospital gown as he followed the boy's eyes. He moved his hand closer to himself as to cover what little he could. He looked down and got a better look of how many tubes were running through him. There was a catheter on his chest, one on his left hand and one that he traced to his nose. He was aware he looked as weak and sickly as he felt. It was enough to keep the boy in front of him on the verge of tears and enough to keep Jack and Ben second thinking every decision to touch or hold Alex. "It's my job. I wanted to do it. If you didn't survive, I don't think I'd be able to forgive myself."
"But you're like this…"
At that moment, Alex realized recovering from a bullet wound and a few scars was nothing compared to survivors guilt, a cocktail of raw emotions like sadness, relief, anger coupled with confusion, grief for those lost. Alex had felt it a few times and knew he would have rather the boy lived and he end up in the hospital bed than the other way around. He meant everything he said. "I'll get better. The last thing I want is got you to wallow on something like this. You're alive. Study hard. Go to college. Have kids, be a strong leader like your father."
You're alive.
The words echoed in his head as he looked to the young boy in front of him. There was no way it could have been the other way around. Alex knew the extent of his own injuries. They reiterated it many times over with every bout of painkillers or change in bandages. He was lucky to be alive. Could the boy have been as lucky as him if the roles were reversed?
Alex could have dozed off, he knew he wasn't fully weaned off sleeping meds and painkillers and sometimes his bouts of sleepiness came in sudden waves, simple reflections and daydreams worked as catalysts. The next thing he knew, he knew Ben was beside him on the bed, shaking him awake. "Hey, you're going back to England."
Alex looked at the clock on the wall. The clock read 3pm. Alex never asked when his flight would be. A nurse stood behind Ben and Alex was reminded that he wouldn't be able to change and make it to the car alone.
A few minutes later, Alex was dressed in a comfortable sweatshirt and compression pants. To Alex's disgust, many of the tubes he got well acquainted with over the stay remained and Alex knew it would be straight to the hospital when he landed.
The nurse was helping him on the wheelchair when Ben handed him the gift bag from the side of the bed.
"You forgot this." He let go and let it fall lightly into Alex's hands. "Merry Christmas from the family you sacrificed your own Christmas for."
Alex instinctively felt around the paper bag before opening it, his hands eventually landed on the small opening which he pulled apart.
Inside was a black box. Alex weighed it in his hand for a few seconds before opening it to find a silver watch. It was a high end brand, he was way too familiar with.
"Hey, you saved their child." Ben explained. "don't think they'd scrimp with their hero."
Alex's disbelief at the price of their gift was there but was only a small percent of why Alex just stood there silently staring at the watch.
The hands of the clock triggered some thought process within him. He did not remember anymore many of the dreams he had in the hospital. For some reason though, the ticking of the clock left him somewhat sad, like he had lost something.
He thought of his parents and his uncle then he thought of Jack, Tom and K-unit. He then, thought of the boy that only a few hours ago was wracked with guilt over the turn of events.
He was sad because he wanted to go back, to a time before he was Alex Rider, a reluctant agent of MI6, a time before he was bed ridden facing months of recovery.
As he thought back to the boy he saved, as he watched the hands on the clock tick, he saw the many people he was yet to save in the eyes of the boy. He saw it in the way the clock ticked brushing against the lines at the edge of the watch.
Maybe the boy wouldn't have survived, if they arrived any later. Maybe he could still do something for the rest of the people in the same position as that young boy.
He was alive. He had the power to help, the power to save people.
At that moment, Alex stopped looking back.
Do tell me what you think!