Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider

White Bandage

When Alex woke up his wrist had been bandaged with white gauze, unmarked except for a splotch of blood the size of a ten-cent piece that was brown with age.

It took him a good ten minutes to figure out he was no longer in his room.

The walls were white, the floor, the roof. It was the white room on steroids.

The door opened, hidden before, as it was the same blinding white as the rest of the room.

A white coat sleeve appeared and then the rest of the very nice doctor.

The tall man smiled tightly.

"Hello, Alex."

Alex stayed silent.

"You know you're in trouble, don't you, Alex?"

More silence.

"We warned you what would happen if you did it to yourself again." The doctor sat at a table, glancing at his clipboard.

"Your guardian has requested we take... more extreme measures. They want you healthy." The door opened again and a nurse walked in, holding a set of clothes and a small case in her arms.

She approached him carefully.

Alex frowned.

"They can't afford for you to hurt yourself again. They've invested a lot in you."

Alex edged back, uneasy. The nurse had put down the pile next to the doctor and was opening the case.

He tried to scoot back further but his back hit plaster and he had to stop.

"Just relax, Alex… it will all be over soon."

The nurse walked toward him and pulled up his sleeve, plunging the needle under his skin. Everything went dark again.