Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider, it all belongs to Anthony Horowitz
'Understanding is the first step to acceptance, and only with acceptance can there be recovery.'
(Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, by J. K. Rowling)
The body was what Alex noticed first in the room. It was dark except for the area around the corpse, lit up as if someone was shining a torch on it. Alex fought the urge to vomit and moved closer. As he did so, the room appeared to shrink until his head was just touching the ceiling. He pushed the claustrophobia down but couldn't prevent the cry that erupted when the unknown corpse's features shifted, melted, into a face he knew far too well, and the hair turned red as if blood was seeping through it.
"Jack!" he cried, and dropped to his knees beside her. Her skin was cold and smooth, but there was no visible injury. A voice spread through the room at that moment, coming not from the body but from the air itself, filling every corner of the room.
"You could have saved me," it whispered, and the sound echoed over and over again. Alex shot to his feet and spun round on the spot, recognizing the voice but knowing it couldn't have come from the body.
"No," he mumbled, shaking his head, "no, no, no."
"Weak," another voice hissed, the distinctive tones of Wolf clearly audible.
"Needy," another agreed, and Alex felt pain rip through his body at the sound of Ben's voice. It's not real, he told himself desperately. But knowing and believing are two very different things.
He turned to face the body again when he heard rustling, and felt shock strike him when he saw Jack – no, the body – start to move. As it began to stand up, the body morphed again into the shape of a man who Alex had tried so hard to forget. The man took a step towards him and Alex immediately moved back. The thing laughed cruelly.
"Scared of me, are you, Rider?" the man's lips moved but again the voice seemed to come from nowhere, spreading through the whole room. "As you should be," the man-body-thing growled, his face darkening. Alex began to shake as images of his torture literally flashed up on the walls as if they were television screens. He tried to back away but found his back was against the wall.
"I can make you bleed, Rider," the man continued. "I can make you scream." A knife appeared in the man's hands and Alex began to yell-
-and woke up, his body trembling and his heart racing as if he'd been running a marathon. He was drenched in sweat and it took him a couple of minutes to collect himself and banish the images from his mind. Shakily, he swung his legs off the side of his bed and looked at his phone. 4.27 am. Too early really to get up, but there was no chance of any more sleep that night. Besides, he started school again that day and so he would need to be up in two hours anyway.
Deciding that it was pointless to stay in bed, he stood up slowly and carefully tested his injured leg before putting his full weight on it. It had healed nicely during the past few days according to Snake and his physio, but he was still wary in the mornings when the damaged muscles were stiff. It seemed all right, so Alex avoided his painkillers on his desk and made his way downstairs quietly. Wolf was off again today, so at least he didn't have to worry about waking that particular grumpy soldier, but he didn't want to test the others either.
The kitchen was empty when he got downstairs and he breathed a sigh of relief. It wasn't uncommon to see a member of K-Unit there in the night, either because they'd stayed up on duty – something that was becoming more and more frequent – or because they too, like Alex, had been unable to sleep. None of them ever spoke about it. Alex gave them their privacy just as they gave him his, despite his desire to know what had happened to give the SAS unit extended leave, coupled with extensive nightmares.
He made himself a strong cup of coffee, a drink he only ever had at night. He knew he'd need the caffeine to get through the day. He'd ended up missing his entire GCSEs due to his recovery, so he was going to join the year below, something he hadn't been able to avoid. No sixth form or college would take him without GCSEs. It was amazing Brookland's even let him back, a feat entirely due to Ben and MI6's gentle persuading, although he's been assured that nothing had been revealed about his life. It was now early July, so he would join his new year for a couple of weeks before the summer holidays started. Any work they would be doing wouldn't be strenuous, so Ben and Alex had agreed it would be a nice way of allowing him to settle back into school life. The only disadvantage was that Tom would no longer be in his year, although thankfully he was staying on at the school's sixth form so Alex would be able to see him at break and lunch.
Taking his mug with him, he flopped onto the sofa and switched on the TV, muting the sound and turning on the subtitles so he didn't wake anyone up. After a few minutes he felt himself begin to drift off, the effort of trying to read the character's speech and follow their actions tiring him. He was jerked back to reality by the sound of someone coming downstairs. He didn't look around when the person entered the room, instead choosing to watch the crummy repeats currently on the TV.
"Hey Cub," Eagle said a couple of seconds later, sitting on the sofa next to him. Alex smiled wanly at him and muttered a 'good morning'. The irony of the phrase wasn't lost on either of them.
They both focused their attention on the TV, pretending to be enthralled by the programme so no conversation would be required. Alex acted as if he didn't notice the bags under Eagle's eyes and the mug of tea he clung to like a lifeline. Neither of them stirred until six-thirty when Alex stretched and got up.
"I'm going to have a shower," Alex mumbled, walking tiredly from the room. Eagle only nodded, looking as emotionally drained as Alex felt.
The water was cold when Alex first stepped into the shower and he shivered, relishing the clarity it brought to his mind. He knew he had to pull himself together, had to create a mask to wear at school that none of the stupid rumours could break.
He dressed into his old school uniform mechanically, noticing absently that his trousers were becoming too short. How he'd managed to grow when he'd spent two of the last few months starved, he didn't understand, but he couldn't help the spark of hope that whispered that MI6 would have no use for him if he didn't look young. He knew the thought was ridiculous; after all, MI6 always had need of adult agents too and Alex wasn't going to believe that they'd let go of him now.
He wandered from the bathroom into his bedroom and had just placed his pyjamas on his bed when Ben knocked on the door and stuck his head round.
"Morning," he said with an easy smile. Alex mumbled a greeting in a typical teenage fashion that just screamed, 'it's too early'.
"Bacon and egg for breakfast?" Ben asked. "Since it's your first day back?"
"'Kay, thanks," Alex agreed. He very rarely ate breakfast, to Ben's immense frustration, but he knew he'd need the strength to get through the day. Tom and the rest of his year had already finished for the summer after their GCSEs, so it would be just him and the current year 10s. Joy.
"I'll start cooking them now," Ben told him. "Come down as soon as you're ready."
Alex nodded, uttering thanks again, and turned to pack his school bag. All he needed was a pencil case and homework diary for the day, so pretty quickly he was heading downstairs for breakfast.
Once there, he helped Ben out by grabbing some plates and cutlery.
"How many?" he questioned, presuming that Ben would be able to guess his exact meaning.
"Just three," Ben answered. "Snake's been up all night outside and apparently is going to sleep as long as humanely possible."
Alex chuckled quietly at the quote marks Ben made in the air with his fingers and laid the table. He watched Ben cook awkwardly when he finished, not knowing what else to do. "Shall I get Eagle?"
"That would be helpful," Ben said, glancing round from the stove with a smile. "I think he went upstairs somewhere." Alex nodded his understanding and went to track the soldier down.
A few minutes later they were all eating peacefully around the dining table. There was little conversation and Alex, for one, was thankful for that. His stomach was churning with nerves. How ironic, he thought to himself in annoyance. Dangerous psychopaths didn't faze him, but fifteen year old school kids gave him butterflies in his tummy as if he was a child again.
All too soon the clock ticked around to seven thirty and Alex pushed back his chair from the table. Ben glanced up at him.
"Time to go?" he asked smiling.
Alex inclined his head in agreement, hurrying upstairs to get his schoolbag. When he got back down, Ben stood by the front door with car keys in his hand. Eagle stood by the entrance to the kitchen, looking remarkably more awake than he had earlier in the morning.
"Good luck," the SAS man told him, grimacing as if in consolation. Alex wondered if Eagle had hated school that much, but guessed there were few people who looked back on the school days with happiness.
"Thanks," Alex replied, not knowing what else to say, and Ben gestured for him to go through the door. Alex got in the car with no argument; they'd had the conversation regarding transport a couple of days ago. Alex's physiotherapist didn't want him straining his leg too much so strenuous exercise was forbidden, including lots of walking or cycling. Ben, too, agreed that it would be too risky for him to travel to school alone, albeit for different reasons. Alex had argued initially, but soon gave in. He saw the sense in Ben's offer to drive him, despite the loss of independence it would cause.
"You nervous?" Ben asked after a few seconds of silence. His tone was causal, but Alex could sense the undercurrent of concern in his voice and posture.
"A little," Alex admitted quietly. "It's been a while." And God, it had. He hadn't been to school since early March, before he was taken by Menarc. It was now July. Four months, and so much had changed.
Ben nodded in understanding, not taking his eyes off the road. "If you need to leave at any point, Alex, just call," he told him carefully. Alex knew what he had been trying to say; if he had a flashback during the day, Ben would come and rescue him like a bloody knight in armour. As much as Alex wanted to protest that he wasn't a pathetic distressed maiden, he couldn't quite deny that the offer made him feel a teensy bit happier. He was always shaky after an incident, always prone to another, and there was no getting around the fact that there were plenty of opportunities for him to be set off in a school. He was sure he'd make good use of Ben's offer at some point in the next two weeks.
In the end, Alex didn't reply, but Ben seemed to get the unspoken message. The rest of the car journey was spent in silence.
"Want me to come in with you?" Ben questioned as they pulled up outside the front of the school.
Alex shook his head. "I'm alright," he answered, shouldering his bag and stepping out of the car.
"Good luck," Ben wished him, echoing Eagle's words. Alex smiled briefly and watched the car pull away. Slowly, he walked into the reception area, noticing happily that Miss Bedfordshire was still there. It was strange that so little had altered in the outside world, when Alex felt like his whole life had been torn to pieces. It was comforting in a way; proof that life had to go on.
"Alex!" she exclaimed when she saw him. "I heard you were coming back."
"Hi," he said, somewhat sheepishly. "Could you tell me what form I'm in?"
She clicked around on her computer for a few minutes before looking up with a smile. "Your form tutor's Mr Davis," she told him. "You're in GTR2."
"Thanks," he said, and uttered a quick goodbye.
"I'll see you around, I'm sure," Miss Bedfordshire said, before adding mischievously, "don't get lost!"
"I'll try," Alex retorted, heading through into the courtyard. The outside area was bustling with people, teachers and students alike, all milling around before lessons started at 8.30. Alex looked at the crowds, before deciding to head straight to his form room. With all his year finished for the summer, there was no one for him to talk to anyway.
He found GTR2 easily, grateful he hadn't forgotten his way around the school, but there was no sign of Mr Davis. School policy dictated that all classrooms should be locked when empty and only teachers had the keys, so Alex had no choice but to hang around outside the form room until his form tutor turned up at 8.20.
"Alex Rider?" the man asked tentatively when he caught sight of the teen sitting on the floor by the classroom. Alex had never been taught by Mr Davis so he didn't blame the man for not being sure who he was. He immediately stood up and smiled.
"Yes, sir," he replied. The teacher held out his hand for him to shake, the grip surprisingly strong. Mr David himself wasn't a large man, nor was he particularly strict looking. He was dressed fairly causally for a teacher, with a tucked in shirt and trousers but no jacket.
"I'm Mr Davis, your new form tutor," the man told him, unlocking the classroom door and dumping his bag on the teacher's desk. When Alex just nodded, unsure as to whether he should follow the teacher or not, the man smiled genially. "Come in, find a desk."
Alex thanked him, trying to make a good first impression. He didn't know how much Mr Davis had heard about him before, but guessed there was no point living up to the rumours. He did as the man said, heading to the back of the classroom and sitting down at a desk next to the wall. In a crowded classroom, the comfort of being able to see everyone else and having his back to the wall could well be the only thing that would keep him sane. At the thought of the classroom filling up with rowdy teenagers, his stomach revolted again. There was no denying that he was nervous. His attention was caught, however, by Mr Davis, when the teacher stood up and made his way to the back of the room, sitting on a desk in front of Alex.
The man scrutinised him for a second, before quietly saying, "I heard you haven't had a great last two years."
Alex shook his head, laughing inwardly at the vast understatement. He wondered exactly what the man had been told.
"You're going to have to work very hard to keep up," the teacher continued seriously, "even though you've dropped back a year."
"I know," Alex replied heavily.
Mr Davis leaned back on the desk then, taking his weight into his hands. "Despite that, your school reports at this school initially were very good, which is why I said I'd take you on in this class."
Alex looked at him, genuinely grateful. There weren't many people who'd overlook the last two years and the rumours of delinquency and take a chance on him. "Thank you," he replied, hoping to convey the gratitude he felt in those two, entirely inadequate words.
"If you have any problems, Alex, or just want to chat, you can always come to me, alright?" Mr Davis told him causally, but Alex could tell by the serious look in his eyes that he meant his words. The man was wasted as a secondary school teacher, Alex decided. Not many would appreciate his quiet presence and his gentle words, nor would most ever need them.
"Ok," Alex replied, somewhat embarrassed by the concern.
"On a lighter note," Mr Davis said, hopping off the desk and retrieving something from his desk, "here's your timetable for the next two weeks."
Alex took it and studied it. He'd left all his textbooks at home for the day, as he hadn't known what particular lessons he would have, but he didn't think it would be a problem. PE, however, which he was supposed to be doing today, would be.
"Uh, sir," Alex began, looking up at his teacher, "it says I have PE today, and-"
"I've been told you can't do PE," Mr Davis interrupted, already anticipating what Alex was going to say. "Your sports teachers have been informed and you're to spend the period in the library. That alright?"
"Perfect," Alex said, relieved that he didn't have to explain his injury to the often over-enthusiastic sports teachers. "Thanks, sir."
"Not a problem," Mr David replied briskly. "The rest of your class should be coming in soon, so make yourself at home." He moved back to the front desk and logged onto the computer.
Alex sat for a short time, then pulled out his phone.
-You're such a lucky bastard – he texted Tom. A few minutes later, his phone vibrated in his hand.
- Argh, too early – came the reply. Alex scowled at his phone and fired off another text.
- Some of us have been up for four hours! –
- You alright? –
Alex stared at the text, closing his eyes briefly. He should have known that Tom would instantly work out that there was only one reason he'd be up at 4 am.
- Fine – he replied in the end, unsure what else to say.
- Good. Gd luck today! –
- Bastard. –
Alex put his phone on silent then and slipped it into his pocket, because students were starting to filter in. There was the normal chorus of 'morning sir!'s and grumbling, but no one seemed surprised to see Alex sitting there. He wondered if they'd been warned.
When the bell rang at 8.30, nearly all the seats had been filled, but Alex had been left alone at the back. Mr Davis called for quiet, and took the register briefly. Alex answered with a quiet 'yes, sir' when his name was called, and the classroom was deathly silent. Alex stared at the wall.
"Right," Mr Davis announced when the register was finished. "I need to pop over to reception for a few minutes, so behave while I'm gone, okay?" He looked sternly at the class and got a few nods back. He left the classroom, leaving the door open behind him, as if he might be able to hear any rowdy behaviour from reception. It was a fantasy that several teachers indulged in, and it never failed to amuse Alex.
Alex stayed quiet at the back, watching people move around the room chatting to friends. There were a couple of people scribbling in the corner, presumably finishing overdue homework, but mostly there was no work in sight. Alex pulled out his phone, checking for a new message from Tom. Nothing. The git had probably gone back to sleep.
"Alex, right?" a plain looking girl asked him, standing in front of his desk.
"Yeah," he replied absently, pocketing his phone. He'd already evaluated the girl, recognizing no real threat. He didn't know her, but that wasn't surprising.
"I'm Laura," she introduced herself. She gestured to the seat next to him. "Mind if I sit here?"
Alex shook his head. "Go ahead," he said in a friendly tone. No harm in making allies, he thought, but there was an annoying voice in the back of his head wanting to know why she had moved from her original place to next to him. Gossiper, it whispered.
"We weren't really told much about you," Laura commented curiously, and the little voice crowed in victory, "just that you'd missed a lot of school and had to drop back a year. That's never really happened before, you know."
"I know," Alex said noncommittally. What did she want him to say? All she'd been told was the truth.
"So why did you drop back?" she asked. Her smile wasn't malicious; she seemed genuinely interested. Still, he simply shrugged.
"I missed a lot of school last year," Alex replied.
She frowned. "But why?" Alex said nothing. "I spoke to someone in your year, you know," she continued. "She told me some of the rumours."
"Well, if you've heard the rumours why are you bothering me?" Alex snapped back immediately.
It was her turn to shrug. "Because when are rumours ever true?" she offered.
"Why listen to them, then?" Alex asked, slightly confused by this contradictory girl.
"I was curious," she said lightly, smirking.
"You're very nosy," Alex observed.
Laura laughed. "My mother would agree with you," she said. "She says it's my worst quality. I prefer the word inquisitive."
Alex hummed in reply, and Laura didn't seem bothered by the lapse in conversation. She pulled out her homework diary and began flicking through it, stopping on odd days to jot things down. Alex couldn't decide if she was being organised or just doodling in boredom.
Fairly quickly, Mr Davis returned, and the rest of form time was whiled away with awkward class-teacher chatter. The bell soon rang to signal the first lesson and Alex glanced at his timetable to see he had history. Laura muttered a quick goodbye and headed off to join a group of girls. Alex wondered idly if she was narrating their conversation, but decided he didn't much care. They could think what they liked.
The day passed quickly. No one else spoke to him except teachers and he only caught glimpses of Laura, always with a group of friends. He drifted from lesson to lesson, wondering if it was normal to feel like a ghost or if it was a symptom of the PTSD his psychiatrist kept trying to diagnose him with. He still hadn't spoken a word to the man, to Ben's upmost frustration, so apparently Dr King couldn't accurately diagnose him until he did. Bullshit, he thought. Alex knew Ben had spoken to the man behind his back, but couldn't fault him for trying to help.
Lunch he spent squished onto a table of year 8s, desperately pushing the flashbacks down, before deciding he didn't really care that much about food and dumping his meal in the bin. He pushed down the voice that sounded distinctly like Ben's, telling him he needed to eat. He passed away the rest of the break in the IT room, researching PTSD. He wondered if he should be worried that he fit almost all of the symptoms (and he noted that numbness was indeed one of them). No wonder Ben was worried. Oh well. Then he realised that that reaction was probably not healthy either. How much of him was dictated by the PTSD? How could he even begin to separate out the two parts of his mind – the healthy part, and the traumatised part? (you can't, a voice whispered. He quashed it down.) Suppressing these thoughts, he logged off and headed for his next lesson.
By the end of the day, he'd established a few things. One, year 10s weren't as nosy as he'd thought they'd be, two, school was absolutely going to kill his leg, and three, maths was really hard to understand when you'd missed all the basics. That was the subject he'd have to focus on, despite being good at it before SIS had entered his life. He headed out to a side road leading to the school, the prearranged meeting place with Ben. He checked his phone for messages from the older spy, but nothing. Hopefully that meant he was on time.
Sure enough, Ben's car pulled up a few seconds later and Alex hopped in. Ben smiled at him before pulling out of a side road.
"Good day?" he asked. Alex considered the question for a moment.
"Quiet," he replied vaguely. Ben nodded.
"Nothing happened?" he checked, and Alex got the unspoken question.
"No," he answered. No one had really got near enough to him to cause a flashback, apart from at lunch, but he wasn't going to bother Ben with that minor incident. He'd been careful all day long to choose desks against a wall and preferably at the back.
"Good," Ben said cheerfully, and left him alone. Alex was grateful for the space. It gave him a chance to think over the events of the day and relax a little. He didn't have to be on full alert around Ben and K-Unit – he trusted them to respect his boundaries. (too much, too much). No. He didn't trust them enough, he told himself sharply.
"Don't forget your appointment with Dr King tonight," Ben said, breaking the silence as they parked outside the house. Alex nodded, inwardly thinking deeply. He stepped out of the car, blinking away the sleepiness in his eyes; something about the car's movement often lulled him into a doze.
"Come on," Ben said, unlocking the door. "Dump your bag and relax on the sofa for a bit."
Alex smiled, kicking off his shoes and shoving his schoolbag on top of the shoe rack. He sae Ben's faint frown at the action and smirked. He followed the older spy into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of orange juice.
"You have my permission to shove Eagle off," Ben told him cheerfully, jabbing his thumb in the direction of the sofa.
Alex grinned. "Thanks," he replied, then felt confused. When had he ever needed anyone's permission to act? That was what had made him attractive to MI6 – his independence. Still, he placed his glass on the coffee table and kicked at Eagle's leg, dangling off the sofa. The soldier appeared to be dozing.
"Move, you great lump," Alex told him loudly. Eagle stirred.
"Wha-a?" he mumbled, lifting his head to see who was there. "G'way Cub."
Alex pulled at his leg, dragging him half off the sofa before Eagle woke up fully. Ben watched the subsequent fight from the table and was pleased to see that Alex won. It wouldn't do for Eagle to get cocky whilst on leave.
Alex lay on his side watching TV for an hour. His teachers and Ben had agreed that he was to complete no homework over the next two weeks, but to treat it as a gentle introduction period. The summer holidays would be spent with private tutors, getting him up to speed with his new year group, but for now he had nothing to focus on except his recovery, both mental and physical. But Christ, Alex just wanted something to do most of the time; something to distract him from the ever present images in his head, the flashbacks, and perhaps the worst of all, the overwhelming knowledge that he didn't remember everything.
All too soon, Ben was yelling at him to get ready for the psychiatrist, and Alex was rushing around, trying to look busy but knowing that he was really only delaying the inevitable.
"C'mon, Alex," Ben snapped. "We're going to be late!"
"Pity," Alex muttered, too quiet for Ben to hear. Eagle did, however, from his position on the stairs where he was watching the proceedings, and shot him an amused look.
"What are you even looking for?" Ben asked exasperatedly, as Alex trailed from room to room, moving things out of the way.
"Trainers and phone," Alex answered distractedly. Eagle chucked a pair of shoes at him from the stairs.
"Here," the SAS man called, ever so helpfully. Snake appeared too, wandering down the stairs like a zombie.
"What's all the noise?" the Scot asked grumpily, but received no coherent reply. He scowled and traipsed into the kitchen where Alex was lifting newspapers and shifting plates.
"Can someone ring it?" Alex looked beseechingly at Ben, who sighed but complied. No sound could be heard except Snake's grumblings and the movement of tea bags.
"Damn, must still be on silent," Alex mumbled, renewing the search. He didn't need the phone, but the loss of it was a very convenient excuse to put off his appointment as long as possible.
"Do you really have to have your phone?" Ben cried in frustration. "We have to be there in five minutes."
By this point, even Eagle had joined in the search, but whether he was doing any good was debatable. Alex had his hands down the back of the sofa when he felt a strange rectangular shape. He felt a flash of disappointment but knew he had to give up. He drew out the phone and held it up.
"Found it!" he announced and Ben practically propelled him into the car. Eagle waved them goodbye cheerfully and Alex could hear Snake muttering something about peace and quiet as they shut the door behind them.
"Was that entirely necessary?" Ben snapped once they were safely driving away from the house. Alex tried to look innocent.
"Was what necessary?"
"You and I both know that you only cared about your phone because you wanted to delay seeing Dr King," Ben said firmly, his hands gripping the steering wheel.
"I don't-" Alex tried to deny, but Ben interrupted him.
"Don't lie to me, Alex," he said quietly, and Alex flashbacked to the last time he'd said that.
(-"she's screaming. She's screaming a lot. There's a lot of blood"-)
"So what if I did?" Alex said defensively.
Ben growled, actually growled, but dropped the subject. Alex smiled to himself and lent to look out the window. Winding up Ben went against all his survival instincts, but it generally made him feel better (more like a teenager than a spy).
Alex jumped out of the car as soon as Ben pulled into the car park and strode into the reception area, Ben just a second or two behind. The receptionist recognized them both and told them to take a seat; Dr King would be ready shortly. Alex sat down immediately, but Ben walked around a little bit, probably letting off some steam, before following suit. He didn't get up when Alex's name was called, but promised to wait in reception for him as normal. Alex saw him pulling out a book as he left the room. Dr King welcomed him with a smile and gestured for him to take a seat. Alex zoned out as the psychiatrist gave him the usual spiel about a problem shared being a problem halved, or some such rubbish.
"You think I have PTSD," Alex said, out of the blue, quiet as a mouse, surprising even himself.
"-and some people find it really helps to draw- Pardon?" Dr King said, swinging around to look at them from his wanderings around the room. Alex stared straight ahead and repeated his earlier words, possibly even quieter than before. It was the first time he'd ever spoken to Dr King, and Alex was wondering himself why he'd chosen today to open his mouth. Ben had better be bloody thankful that he'd taken his advice.
"Yes," the psychiatrist said, looking slightly shocked. Alex didn't blame him. "Yes," he repeated stronger. "I think it's highly likely-"
"How would you treat it?" Alex interrupted. He didn't want to look at the man, focusing instead on the wall. He didn't want to surrender that little bit to him.
"Well," the man coughed, "talking, like we've been doing, Cognitive Behavioural Therapy perhaps. EMDR is something to consider as well as maybe antidepressants, although they can be addictive."
Alex said nothing, the medical words going over his head and not knowing how to voice the thoughts in his mind. He didn't know if he was ready to share the images with the psychiatrist. Scrap that, he knew he wasn't ready.
"But Alex, I can't diagnose you when you won't talk to me," Dr King said gently.
Alex turned to face him. "Nightmares," he said steadily, while a tiny voice in his head screamed 'what are you doing?' at him. "Flashbacks. Inability to recall certain things. Numbness. Lack of concentration. They're all signs of PTSD, right?"
Dr King nodded. "That's correct," he replied, and looked thankful just to see Alex talking, even if he didn't understand where the teenager was going with it.
Alex looked him in the eye, wondering if he could take the final step. Ben's words from weeks ago echoed in his head. We're all here to stay. No one will judge you. He took a deep breath.
"I have all of them," he whispered, and the words reverberated around in his head. What are you doing? the voice was screaming at him again, but louder this time. He pushed it down. He didn't even know what he was afraid of anymore.
Dr King paused, then slowly sat down at his desk. "Thank you for telling me," the man said quietly. Alex looked at a photo of the psychiatrist and what must be his kids, and wondered if he would ever feel normal again.
A/N: As promised, here is another update. This will be the last of the 'recovery' chapters (I think). The plot will come into play in the next chapter, although I'm not sure there will be a lot of action. . . Alex isn't healed, not by a long way, and there will of course be a lot more recovering to do once the plot is out of the way. I cannot say how much of the aftermath I will cover at this point, so let's just wait and see :)
I hope you all liked this chapter, and I love to hear all of your opinions and comments so please do review! Constructive criticism is always loved.
Dreams x