Hey guys, sorry it took a bit. So for B I had originally intended to do something else, but while I sat down to write this, Blame by Tranzlucent came up on my media player, and for those of you who don't know, Blame is the theme song for Stormbreaker the movie and my mind went "WOAH! Blame starts with B!" So now here we are and the second chapter is named Blame =D So Enjoy!

Blame

Ian Rider felt...actually he wasn't very sure how he felt. Really, all he knew at the moment was that he was standing. Standing straight as someone of his rank in MI6 should, tall, proud, dressed expensively in the finest black suit, chest out, expression absolutely blank. And tears, burning inside his eyes. Tears he could never release.

They were gone.

Ian wasn't sure how many times he'd repeated that thought in his head. And no matter how many times he'd tried to get rid of it, it always came back to haunt him. Came back to remind him that his brother and his sister-in-law, the only two people in the world he truly believed loved him, were dead. Especially now, as he stood at the funeral of those two people, did the thought plague him the most.

Ian blinked. That occasional blink that lasted for three or four seconds in which he pushed back whatever emotion was rooting inside of him. He took a deep breath. And to everyone else standing around him, it would have seemed like just another breath but it was more than just that. It was Ian Rider's attempt to keep his image up, keep his emotions in check and his pokerface on. Not too many people had shown up for John. Only about four or five people, all MI6 people. For Helen though, her entire family seemed to be present at the funeral. Less now that the caskets had been lowered into the ground. It'd actually been a good few minutes since the funeral servicemen finished shoveling the dirt onto the caskets. Ian hadn't moved a muscle since. He couldn't. He'd break down the second he tried. So he remained perfectly still as his in-laws(half of whom he wasn't even familiar with...) and some colleagues began to head out of the cemetery.

He paid no mind to anyone and no one paid any mind to him...all except one man that strayed from the crowd of people and stopped his walk in front of Ian. It took the young man a moment to register the older's presence in front of him. Once he did, he looked up and recognized the gray haired, green eyed, stocky form of Stephen Beckett, Helen's father.

"Can I help you...sir?" Ian choked out. He just barely recognized this man, they'd only met twice before and didn't have much of a good impression on him either. As far as Ian knew the man, he, despite giving his consent to John and Helen's marriage, didn't support the relationship one bit. Complained about something to do with John dying on his precious daughter and leaving her without a home or something like that. Ian was too busy seething to actually listen to the lecture all the way through. To this day Ian didn't understand why John so greatly insisted on informing him about MI6. Something about having him trust the relationship or something. Ian decided not to think too much about it. He never did and never would understand half the things John did.

"Yes actually, you can" Stephen's voice snapped Ian out of his thoughts. "You can answer a few questions for me Mr. Rider."

"Such as..." Ian said with an edge to his voice; he didn't like the way he was being spoken to.

"Where is my grandson at the moment?"

"He's with a baby-sitter" Ian shrugged.

"You left my three month old grandson with a baby-sitter days after his parents' murder?" Stephen growled.

"Alright, if you must know, I have about two dozen specialized MI6 agents surrounding the house right now in case anyone decides to lay a finger on my nephew" Ian spoke in a stronger tone. "Happy now?"

"Being cheeky, are we? I can already tell you'll be a bad influence on him..." Stephen narrowed his eyes. "He should be raised with us."

"Well, if you're so fitting then why weren't you named on his parents' will?" Ian muttered rolling his eyes.

"Listen, young man" Stephen brought a finger up to Ian's chest. "I'm not here to listen to you run your mouth. I am concerned about my grandson and his upbringing. Especially the fact that the household responsible for the death of his mother will be raising him."

Well that certainly shut Ian up. He'd learned better than to take people's words to heart, but that one definitely hit home. Was that really how things were? Was that really how Alex would come to see the Riders...and even more, Ian himself? As the person that got his mother killed? Ian didn't think he could live with that thought. Somehow it'd become more about him now than about Alex. Because forget Alex, Ian would go mad himself if this new thought had to go on and join "They're gone."

Ian remembers muttering an awkward goodbye to Stephen after that and getting home as soon as possible. Calling off his agents and crouching in front of his three month old nephew's carrier and gingerly asking "Do you think we're-I'm a murderer?"

Of course Alex replied with nothing but useless gargling but that wasn't the point. The point was that, that incident in the cemetery had to be one of the main reasons why Ian brought Alex up telling him as little as he could about John and Helen's deaths. Hoping somewhere along the way, if he loosened the story enough, he could misplace the Blame.

Ok, I'm not even sure I even understand that one myself, so have fun figuring it out. You guys know me, I just write whatever comes out, regardless whether it makes sense or not-well I guess it does make sense in a way, you've just got to figure it out. Right, so before I confuse myself or you any further, I'll have the next one up real soon, till then,

Reviews are loved! =D