AN: Hey, thanks to my one reviewer, hope you enjoy the new chapter.

Ian Rider walked into the Royal and General scowling. He'd just come back from Cuba and he needed some rest. He'd stopped another madman from killing millions of people and he wanted to relax. He also wanted to spend the weekend with Alex. It was his birthday on Saturday and he still needed to get the boy a gift. Alex hadn't said anything but he did want his uncle to be around and Ian knew it. He also knew that Alex didn't expect him to be there especially because he hadn't been at Alex's eleventh and twelfth birthday parties. Ian felt extremely guilty about it but it had been out of his hands. When Alex had turned eleven, he'd been in Japan and when he'd turned twelve he'd been unconscious in a cell somewhere in Afghanistan. He would not miss his nephew's birthday this year just because Blunt had decided that he should be sent to some remote corner of the world. He opened the doors and entered the Bank planning his excuse for not being able to take on a new assignment. He walked to the elevator and waited for it to arrive. Once it did, he entered and pressed seventeen, waiting as it took him to where the head or deputy head was waiting to give him his assignment. He knew that his boss would not be happy with him refusing an assignment and would probably try to coerce him into accepting but he was not going anywhere before the fifteenth, at least.

But, when he entered the office, Mrs. Jones paid no attention to the fact that he didn't want to do the assignment. In fact, she acted as though Ian had been enthusiastic about the idea, telling him that she was sure that he'd enjoy himself, and that it was going to be a piece of cake compared to some of his previous tasks.

Ian snorted. The more they tried to convince him that it would be easy and that it wouldn't be dangerous, the more wary he got. Ian counted to ten in his head and then began to explain, once again, why he couldn't possibly leave before the fifteenth— he wasn't stupid enough to say that it was because of his nephew's birthday, he knew that that would not be considered a valid excuse. But he did have a valid one too– he'd broken his left arm and couldn't possibly be expected to fight or spy with it in a sling. But, when he told Jones that she smiled at him and said; "I'm sure you'll be able to manage one thirteen year old, Mr. Rider." Ian stared at her, trying to find the words to express how appalled he was.

"You– you want me to spy on a thirteen year old?" he shouted, simultaneously questioning her sanity in his head.

"Yes, I'm sure you'll be able to do that with a broken arm. Actually, I suspect you might even be able to stay in your own home while doing it." She handed him a folder and then stood. Ian, recognizing the dismissal, left the office. Idly, he wondered who he would be spying on but then he pushed it to the back of his mind, knowing that he'd be able to spend Saturday, at least, with his nephew and without having to worry about his assignment.

I've been in this Home for about five weeks now and I'm starting to get used to it. It's not great but it's better than coping with my father when he's in a bad mood. The kids here aren't that violent towards me which is unusual but I'm not going to look a gift horse in the mouth. Today it's Physical Training or, Physical Torture, as we like to call it. The exercise isn't that bad — it's the staring that I hate. Everyone else stares at me in the locker room but not Alex. He says that it's because he's my friend and because his uncle says it's not polite to stare, even if you want to. Alex isn't my only friend over here but I have a feeling that he's my only true one.

"Hey, Tom," he greets me. "Did you finish your EMS homework? It's due third period." My eyes widen. I haven't done it and the teacher hates me. She also happens to love Alex because he pays attention to her and looks like 'a little angel'. It's annoying but by now, I'm used to being treated badly by teachers and other adults. Yes, it does get annoying. No, I don't care. I don't, it's just… annoying. Really. Moving on, I need to reply to Alex or he'll think I'm spacing again.

"No, Angel, I haven't. Can I copy yours?" I reply to Alex. He scowls at me.

"I would have let you have my stuff, but I don't think I will. After all, Angels don't let other people copy their work."

"Come on, Alex!" I whine. "Why the heck* are you so sensitive anyway?" Oops. Telling him that he's a sensitive baby probably wasn't the best way to convince him to do me a favor, but he's so easy to bait that I couldn't resist. Besides, it's harmless and he does look like an angel– all blonde hair and big eyes with a sweet smile that makes him look like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. I snort inwardly; Alex is a walking, talking piece of evidence that proves the statement 'appearances can be deceiving'.

"I'll lend you my homework but you have to stop calling me that. It's so annoying and girly." He bargains with me.

"Okay, I'll stop calling you Angel. Now gimme." I reach for his book just as we enter the school's gates.

"Oh, by the way, it's my birthday on Saturday and Ian says I can invite a friend to come out with me. Wanna come?"

"Um, you'll have to get him to ask that housemother lady. But, I do want to come," I reply. The bell rings before we have a chance to say anything else. I wonder whether the housemother will let me go with Alex. Probably not but I can hope.

I open my eyes smiling. Today is Friday, the twelfth of February and tonight I'm going to be sleeping over at Alex's house. I'm surprised that the housemother's allowing me out of here and even more surprised that Alex's uncle wants me to spend time with his nephew but I'm not gonna complain if it means that I can spend more time with Alex. He makes me feel normal and doesn't make pointed comments about my current home like most of the others. They look down on me and won't talk to me. I don't understand why because most of them think I'm dangerous– everyone but the school bullies are afraid to look at me wrong, which is funny because most of them have done things just as bad as what I've done, on purpose. But even the eighteen year old bullies leave me alone now. Alex took care of them. The guy has a savior complex and he's seriously good at karate. He's second Dan which is apparently an accomplishment. I wouldn't know as my dad never allowed me to do any sort of self defense. After all, if I could defend myself, he'd lose his favorite punching bag. And that would never do.

Anyway, I know today's gonna be a good day. After all, my father won't be able to visit me this weekend and no new bruises on Monday is definitely a good thing. It's not actually the beatings, even though those do hurt. It's the stares and the reminders that the parents don't actually think I'm good enough to love. They'd prefer to ignore me and hurt me. Even after three years of my father hitting me it still hurts when I remember that he doesn't care. I used to promise myself that I'd make sure my grades were higher and that I'd behave in class. But then I realized that no matter how hard I tried, I just wasn't important enough for my father. And nothing I did could or would change that. But I'm not gonna brood. After all, today's gonna be a good day.

AN: Review please.