I apologise for the huge wait! But, I'm now solely dedicating my spare time to this story so expect better/quicker updates.
This is a little on the short side, but it's all I wanted for this chapter!
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Dark brown eyes fluttered open as a slowly rising sun streamed intense light into the teenager's room. There was a calm about the morning, a simplicity. As people in neighboring houses arose for the day, whether that meant going to work, or just being at home, it was early enough for those people to enjoy the sun rising over the great city of London. Over the polite neighborhood of Chelsea. The teenager who was lying sprawled eagle on a very untidy bed, bed sheets entangled around different limbs, blinked serval times in rapid succession to bring clarity to his blurred vision. There was an intense pain in the boy's side and he couldn't understand. More simply he just couldn't remember how he could've done anything to cause that much pain to his side. Slowly the teen untangled himself, and slid his entire body under the bedspreads and duvets. He wasn't quite ready to get out of bed, the morning too early, the pain too much. He wanted the pain to subside, most of all he just wanted to go back to sleep. However as he closed his eyes in an attempt to return to comfortable sleep, bit by bit memories came back. Alex Rider reopened his eyes. The last thing he remembered from the previous day, was taking a small break on his porch. He didn't remember getting to bed, or how he had changed his clothes. It was an odd thing, since none of his neighbors would dare get involved with Alex, they knew him as that trouble teen, away for weeks even months at a time, and apart from that he quite literally had no one. So unless in a sleepy haze he managed to get in the house up a flight of stairs, get changed and then get into bed then he could see no other of it being done. Alex knew his sleepy hazes, and he knew he couldn't have done that, at most he would've gotten to the sofa in the living area. It made little sense to the teen. Though, lately nothing made much sense to the teen.
It felt like that dream he'd recently had, one his mind had faded into a blurry picture he thought hadn't happened. Maybe the other world had just been what he'd hoped for. An inner battle between giving up and staying strong. He didn't know. Suddenly he thought of something, what if I'm dead and this is my afterlife. Pretty crappy afterlife was the thought that followed. Of course if he was dead it meant he could be with his family. With the people he cared so deeply about and lost. All the ones he'd lost and would, in life never get back. The world he'd seen before he was sure he'd awoken. Alex sat up and got off the bed. He pulled off his sweat soaked t-shirt and stood in front of the only full length mirror in his room. All the scars, cuts, and fading bruises were still there. The old scar, from where he'd been shot and the ones from most recently. His chest was still a patchwork of different colours, and all the bones stood out. His collar bone, the rib bones not covered by the bandage, hip bones. He stared at his reflection, this couldn't be the afterlife. Not when he looked how he did. In his dream it had been perfect. There had been no scars or bruising, he looked like a normal teenage boy, who went to school and had many, many friends. He wasn't too skinny, and he hadn't been too fat. Everything had been just right. Now, in this reality nothing was right. As he stood still, more pain ebbed it's way back in. He had been able to ignore the throbbing from different parts of his body, but no more. Pain was the only other thing he could feel at that point in time. Pain and shame. How had his life become this mess? Why he asked himself, why couldn't he have just stood up against MI6 when they had first approached him. Said no, walked away and just lived with the consequences of that. He probably wouldn't have lost so much. Jack, would probably still be alive.
Leaning into the closet the teen grabbed a t-shirt and slipped it on. It was a plan grey t-shirt that fit him loosely. He had bought mere days before he'd been taken, a small present for himself. It had fitted perfectly then, now, three months down the line it looked huge on him, around his arms and his chest. There was no denying that a lot had happened over those three months. More than just several hundred beatings. He pulled off his trousers from the previous day and grabbed a new pair from within his closet, however this time he spent no time looking at his reflection, he turned around and faced away. It was something to see his top half naked but he could deal with the bottom as well. His legs were just as bruised as his chest, but something about that made him more self-conscious. Instead he slipped on his jeans without once sparing a glance at either his legs or his reflection.
The sound of a huge crash filled the quiet room. Half way in the process of putting on his jeans, Alex stopped. He stood perfectly still, the brown eyes fixed on the door. Slowly he finished putting his jeans on. He walked over to his table and reached underneath beside the closest leg to the window. He felt around for a brief second and then clasped what he needed. With a gentle tug, he pulled a large army issue knife from under the table. His left hand tightly clasping the handle. The emotionless eyes never leaving the closed door of his room. The sound of something smashing in the room below him made Alex race forward. As quickly and as quietly as he could raced down the stairs and into the room where he'd heard all the noise. The door to the living room was closed. He could hear movement from within the room. He took a few steps back and then raced forward, kicking the door down with his foot. The door swung open and broke from the sheer force of the kick.
"What the fuck!" Came a loud angry voice. Alex was standing in the room staring at the now angry Wolf who stood metres away from the door, still shielding his face from whatever had just happened. Though he didn't quite yet understand what. Alex just stood the knife raised, poised to attack. Just as he realised he may have jumped to conclusions, Fox, ran into the room, quickly followed by Eagle and Snake. Alex couldn't help but wonder why they were there. Last he remembered he'd ditched them at the hospital. How could they find him or know where he lived.
"What are you doing here?" Alex demanded, not changing from his fighting stance. "Tell me!"
"Cub," Ben paused, "Alex, you disappeared from the hospital, I am your legal guardian, well, I will be. I told the Bank, and they informed me of where you lived while not away. I thought you might come back here, so before we searched all over London we came here. We found you, asleep on the door step."
This was all a little hard for Alex to comprehend, but it seemed to make sense. It was explain how he'd managed to get to bed, and changed and yet had no recollection of that happening. That was not what annoyed him, what frustrated him more than anything was the fact they were in his home. He had worked so hard over the years to keep his home hidden, his sanctuary, even if they'd known where he'd lived, the chances of him letting them in was slim, if he was aware of what was going on, they wouldn't be in his house. While had had many bad memories of his home, he couldn't quite shake the place. He'd spent his whole life in the place. Every single time something bad occurred this was the one place he'd always been able to count on. He wasn't about to just give that up, not now when all he wanted was the solitude the place brought.
"Out" His tone was low, menacing, his knife hand still raised, he look at the now confused men in front of him. "I want you out. NOW!" He took a stepped forward, and all four men backed away slightly, but Wolf, Eagle, Fox and Snake were SAS men. They were strong, they could easily if they worked together over power the youngest in the room. He was injured, he was still very weak, and even all the theatrics was making him tired. He wanted to curl up on the sofa, stare at old photos and just let everything else slip away. MI6, Scorpia, the last four months, all of it disappearing from his mind in a second. Having these men in his house was not going to help him get that.
"Alex, we're not leaving. You can't look after yourself, you're a teenager." Wolf took a tentative step towards him. Raising his hands slightly as he did so. He meant no harm to the teen. He just wanted to show that it would be hard to get them all to leave. He also didn't actually know Alex's age, that had been left out. He figured now that the boy could be no older than fifteen, sixteen at most. Yet, he looked like he was old, seen a lot, been through more than one war. He could feel Ben tugging at his sleeve he figured now, leaving for a little while wouldn't be too bad. Give the kid room to breath, stay on watch.
"Get the fuck out." Alex as he spoke in an annoyed tone, threw the knife, directly hitting the wall beside Wolf's head, between Wolf and Fox. The army men needed no further telling, Alex was angry and upset he was tired of being watched he needed some time alone and they were willing to give him that for a little while. Slowly the four left the room and then the house. Alex was breathing rapidly, he was shaking he realised, after months of being treated like dirt he had just treated the four men who'd helped him in so many ways. Alex yelled out, venting his anger, his frustrations. Why did having to readjust have to be so hard? He didn't want to be like them, and yet he had been. He knew that maybe in a few days he'd have to apologise, all the men wanted to was help and all he did was shoot them down.
Walking to the nearest couch, Alex took a seat. He placed his head in his hands, and bowed his head. How could he have reacted in such a way? Why. Alex felt tears prickling his eyes. He rubbed his eyes furiously and willed himself to not cry. He was a spy, emotionless, cold, alone. Honestly, Alex was tired of being a spy. He was fifteen, he'd been on many missions, he'd saved the earth many times and yet it had taken them three months to find him. He was tired, he didn't want to continuing doing something where he was appreciated. Where his safety wasn't a top priority. Sure he knew the risk but he was kid, someone should've been there to say no. He stood up and walked solemnly to the kitchen. He was surprised to see that it was clean, he'd left it in a mess. The cupboards and the fridge had been restocked. The guys.
Alex was a spy first and foremost. As much as he grew tired of it, there was no way of saying that it didn't come completely naturally to him. Just sometimes he became so involved in being the young spy that he forgot to be just Alex when dealing with people from that world. K-Unit, had since his waking in the hospital been nothing but nice to him. They were offering to do so much for him, and all he could do to repay them was tell to get out. It had been a shock and he loved his home but it now felt wrong what he'd done. He felt stupid, he felt like a child. He'd acted like a stubborn child. He knew K-Unit probably wasn't too far away. They were fully grown army men who knew what to do in this kind of a scenario. He got himself a bowl of cereal, filled it, added milk and then walked slowly back into the living room. He didn't want to sit in silence, instead he got up and went over to the dvd and video shelf. One of the first things he noticed was the video with the writing, Home Video - Alex, aged 5. Alex had never been one to spend much time watching tv, he had no idea what was on the tape.
Feeling more than a little sentimental and overall just worn out, Alex turned on the TV and put in the video. He waited while it rewound to the beginning of the tape and then he pressed play. The first few seconds were the beginnings of a Tom and Jerry cartoon that had since been recorded over for the purpose of home videos. As Alex stood wondering if the tape was blank, he suddenly found himself looking at a five year version of him laughing as his uncle brought the camera closer to his face. A little somber smile found it's way to Alex's face. He retreated backwards, and sat down on the couch. Simpler times. A younger looking Jack was smiling in the background, every so often glancing up at the camera holder.
"Hey, Alex! Alex! Tell the camera what your doing." The sound of his uncle's voice filled the room, it was this sound that brought the first few tears. He was eating his breakfast trying to keep his composure. He watched as the curious young eyes of the boy looked up at the man behind the camera.
"It's my birthday! I got paints! I used my fingers." Came the much higher pitched version of his voice, as the young boy held small, paint messy hands up to the lens and grinned as he did so. The smile so wide you could see he was missing one small bottom tooth.
"What have you painted Alex? Show your uncle what you've painted" Jack asked down on the floor beside him, looking at the picture then at the young boy. By this point, the much older Alex had forgone his breakfast and was now lying on the couch staring at the screen. The brown eyes glistening, as every so often a few tears fell alone. His makeshift family. The woman who'd just stayed, who'd been with him for as long as he could remember. He figured this was the first year they'd had her. He couldn't believe she was gone now. He couldn't believe his uncle was gone. He needed them. He couldn't continue doing this alone.
"I drawn home, can you see that uncle? Looked, there's the street and there the house. And the sun is shining like it does in sumner. Do you like it?" The young boy looked away from the picture and up to the man in front of him. He smiled at him as Alex could see the camera moving, his uncle was nodding.
"I love it! We have a little Picasso on our hands. Go stick it up on the fridge!" His uncle said. The camera followed the young boy as he excitedly ran from the room and headed into the kitchen to put up the picture. The Alex lying on the couch, had made no motion to stop the tears now. His small frame was shaking from the tears, he could barely make out the screen but hearing his uncle's voice and Jack's laugh had reminded him of how much he missed them. How much he simply missed the sounds of their voices. That while he was grateful for K-Unit, all he wanted was his family. His uncle, Jack, his parents. People who he could call mum, dad. People who weren't there because there was no one else left. The video changed, it was a bright day, once again the camera was focused on Alex, again, aged around five, in a uniform slightly too big for him, with a huge grin, and eyes filled with wonder and worry.
"You ready for your first day Alex?" Jack's voice filled the room. "It's a big day, you scared?"
"I'm not scared. I'ma big boy. Look how tall I am." Alex said in a childish boasting tone. Standing on the tips of his toes. He had his little backpack on a his hair was under control, the one and only time. He tugged on the straps of his bag and his eyes looked down at the floor. "I'm a little scared."
"Alex, don't worry. You'll make plenty of friends, and you'll be the smartest boy in the class. You will be amazing" Jack reassured him. Placing a comforting hand on his shoulder and moving the camera briefly so she could kiss the top of the young boy's head. Alex, the fifteen year old spy had fallen asleep. It had been an exhausting morning, and lying down hadn't helped things. But, he'd fallen asleep to the sound of Jack's laughter, a sound he sorely missed.
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