Author's Note: Thank you so much for your continued support! :)

"Listen to this," Wolf ordered from where he sat at the counter with his laptop open to the news feed.

Alex looked up from his Biology text, relieved to have an excuse to stop studying even for a moment. Chromosomes were interesting, he could even read about the life span of a field cricket without yawning, but Alex had been reading steadily for forty-five minutes, and he was ready to take a long nap. The colorful picture between chapter thirteen and fourteen was starting to look like the perfect pillow to his rather tired eyes.

"Employee of well known law firm stung to death in own office," Wolf looked up to make sure Alex was listening, and continued. "Mr. Rufus Romney had only been at work for a matter of minutes, when the secretary heard his screams echoing down the hall. She and another employee tried to talk to Mr. Romney through the door, but received only muffled yells in response. When they finally managed to break the door down, they found him-ugh," Wolf said. "That's just a little bit too much detail. Anyhow, he was stung to death. No one is sure how the bees got in, but it turns out that the poor sod had a severe allergy to them. Oh, and the secretary had delivered a gift to Romney just minutes before the screaming was heard, the police suspect the bees were somehow contained inside."

Alex was sitting straight up in the chair, feeling rather queasy at the thought of what that man had gone through...and just who had been sick enough to do it to him.

"Someone was out for him," Wolf muttered, shaking his head as he skimmed the rest of the report.

Alex didn't say anything. He didn't think he could without sounding hoarse, and that would just draw attention to how much that report had affected him. The truth was...that sounded like how Scorpia would deal with someone they were displeased with. Or even how the people Alex had just escaped from would deal with someone they were unhappy with.

And thinking about them, either of them, was something Alex really did not want to do at the moment.

"How's your school work coming along?"

"Oh...fine. It's just a lot to do. I could probably work on the homework from just this Biology and still have some left to do when I get to go back home."

Wolf was typing something on his laptop, and after a moment, he shut the top and walked over. It was a mess. Sheet after sheet of assignments he'd missed, half written reports for different classes, notes from concerned teachers, warnings that he'd have to be pushed back a year if he could not maintain a steady attendance.

His other school books were pushed to the far side of the counter, and Wolf pulled up a stool to sit across from Alex.

Twice Alex tried to understand the paragraph in front of him, and then rubbed his eyes in dismay. The doctors had told him the weariness would wear off, but Alex wasn't willing to be patient with it. He wanted it to go now, he had too much work to do to take long naps like a toddler every day.

He went back to the book, and saw Wolf reading his 'assignments to complete' list. It was a long one.

"Just how many days have you missed from school?"

Alex didn't reply.

"I should probably change the wording of that to how many weeks?"

Alex bit his lip, and wrote down the answer to one of the more trickier questions he'd been looking for several minutes.

Wolf sighed. "I'm not going to talk about your parents anymore, I'm sure they do what they think is right for you-"

"I'm not sure how many weeks I've missed," Alex said quietly.

"Oh."

Wolf was silent for a moment. "I'm rubbish at sciences and literature, but if you need any help with anything else..."

Alex blinked down at his book. It was swimming slightly before his eyes, the text going blurry a bit. He forced his eyes shut.

"Thanks," he said, giving into the temptation to rub vigorously at his eyes again.

"You know you have a perfectly good bed upstairs? Maybe you don't know what it is there for."

Alex glared at him, and knew it was a very poor attempt when Wolf just raised his eyebrows. "It might be scarier if you didn't look half drunk with drowsiness."

"I don't want to keep giving into this stupid-blasted-uggghhh!" Alex mumbled, standing up resignedly to go upstairs.

Wolf chuckled at his dismay, and then made sure he used his crutch on the way upstairs.

"I'll...cook something, I guess," Wolf said called up after his slow progress up the stairs. "I'll wake you up when it's ready."

In his familiar bedroom, Alex threw down the crutch and practically fell on top of the bed. He groaned as it sunk beneath him. With his eyes closed and his body saying that yeah, he was a bit cold, but it was just way too much work to try and get under the blankets now, Alex started to fall into slumber.

He'd only been at this house for a day, and he was disappointed with himself already. He'd been determined to defy the doctor's orders of 'rest, medication, and more rest,' but after the long car ride, the incident with yoga-pants-lady, and all that blasted studying, he was utterly exhausted.

It might of helped if he had taken the sleep aid the night before. Nightmares had plagued him since his release from that hell hole, and only those sleeping drugs seemed to make them go away...but they were also addictive. That was what kept Alex from taking them every night, even when he woke up covered in sweat, and the feel of ghost hands still on him, trying to cause him pain.

But maybe the nightmares wouldn't find him if he just took a short nap...

He woke up confused. He'd not been having a nightmare, so why was Jack being so persistent in trying to wake him up? Alex tried to shake off her hand that was still lightly shaking his shoulder.

"Come on brat, I didn't slave over that stove for you to sleep the day away," Wolf's even tone said, and Alex remembered.

He was curled up in a ball on top of the blankets of the bed that was not really his, in the house he had never been to before.

His muscles protested as he uncurled slowly to stretch. Alex winced as injuries he's rather not think about twined with pain, and a light headache throbbed in his head.

"Most people sleep under the blankets," Wolf supplied from the door where he was watching to make sure Alex got up.

"Couldn't be bothered to," Alex replied, and cleared his throat at the gruffness of his tone. "I thought about it, and my body rebelled again the idea of moving anymore than it absolutely had to."

Wolf was silent for a moment, and Alex looked up from where he had been rubbing his eyes when he heard the man's footsteps retreating. Scolding himself for feeling so lazy, Alex stretched-and flinched at the various aches he hadn't expected to encounter. One would think that after coming in contact with so many different injuries in the past, that the pain from new, smaller ones would fade in comparison.

The memory of physical pain always seemed to fade though, and so there was nothing to compare one pain to another...did a twisted ankle hurt more than bruised bone?

The majority of all of his previous wounds had healed rather fast, even though they still left evidence of being there. Alex still felt a phantom pain when he laughed too hard, or did something to stretch the muscle that damn bullet had torn through.

As if by instinct, Alex's had went to his chest. A deep scowl marring his face as he rubbed the area around the wound. Just another souvenir gained by working for MI6. He wondered momentarily how many other times he had come close to serious injury, and no one had thought to tell him...or was he just getting caught up in teenage angst?

"Here."

Alex stood up, his face wiped clean of emotion as his hand retreated to his side.

"I guess that bush got you better than what I thought, I didn't even notice until I saw the back of your T-shirt just now." He was holding out a wet cloth, and Alex blinked at it.

"What?"

Wolf frowned at Alex's sharp tone. "The bush you fell in-" Alex blinked at him and Wolf continued with a sigh. "Cub, your back is bleeding through your shirt."

"Oh," Alex reached a hand back awkwardly, and found the wet spot with his hand and grimaced. "Thank, I didn't realize..." he took the cloth from Wolf, but the man continued to stand there and look at him.

"Do you need help?" Wolf said slowly, and it took Alex a moment to realize it, because he had not seen the look on Wolf's face before...but the shifting and almost pained look made him sure of it. Wolf felt awkward.

"No," Alex turned from him, grabbing a clear shirt out of his bag. "Mind if I use your bathroom though? I need the mirror to see the cut."

Wolf shrugged, "It's your bathroom too, Cub. That's why there's two ways to get inside it. So you don't have to walk through my room in the middle of the night just to take a piss, because that would not end well. Go on-I'll be downstairs, eating. Hurry down when you're done," he said as he walked away.

Alex stood still and listened with his head bent. When he was sure Wolf was downstairs and back in the kitchen, he reached into his back and grabbed the small bottle of peroxide he'd acquired from the doctor's and yet another long-sleeved T-shirt.

Not bothering with his crutch, he walked at a slow pace all the while keeping an eye out for Wolf and hoping the man would just stay downstairs until he could take care of his back. Once inside the bathroom, Alex flipped on the lights, squinted at how bright they were, and then turned to shut the door firmly. Just to make sure, he locked both doors as well.

Taking a deep breath, Alex placed the peroxide, clean T-shirts and wet cloth Wolf had given him on the counter and grasped the edges of the ruined one he was currently wearing. With careful movements Alex lifted the shirt over his head.

His arms protested at the movement, and when it was finally off, Alex threw it down with more force than was necessary. He hated to look, but he had to see how bad the damage was.

Bracing himself, Alex turned his back to the mirror and looked over his shoulder the best he could.

Alex had been careful to keep the extent of his injuries from Wolf. He didn't need to know.

Damn, he was already like an overbearing mother when it came to that stupid crutch. If he knew about this...

The cuts were thin, most made by an extremely thin blade and healing rather well. It was when these lines crossed and became larger wounds that Alex came into a problem. He'd know for a while that his habit of thrashing about in his sleep could get him hurt, but he'd been thinking more along the lines of knocking over a lamp...not re-opening cuts a psychopath had carved into his skin.

He must have had a nightmare and not remembered it...or maybe the thrashing was an instinct after spending all of a year trying to escape different situations and people.

Alex frowned at the thin river of blood drawing deep red lines down his back. He couldn't help but compare the sight to a painter's overloaded paint brush dripping onto a clean canvas-though his back was far from unblemished. Back to the situation at hand. How was he supposed to clean this up?

With careful, frustrating movements, Alex dabbed at the wounds with the wet cloth. The cuts were red and irritated, and Alex glanced at the peroxide wearily. The last thing he needed was in infection.

Grasping the bottle with a sigh, Alex stepped into the shower. He wrapped a towel around his waist, leaned against the shower wall with one arm, and carefully tilted the peroxide bottle over his shoulder to let it pour over the cuts.

The open wounds seemed to sizzle when the peroxide reached them, and Alex bent his head into the crook of his arm and gritted his teeth.

Around his feet, the peroxide dripped off his back. Looking down at it, Alex noticed it the peroxide was now tinged with pink. He closed his eyes and breathed through the pain. Reaching for a dark towel, Alex carefully dabbed at the mess that was his back.

He'd spent too much time in the bathroom already. Wolf would begin to wonder what he was doing.

Alex put on his shirt with care, and then put the other shirt over that...just in case the wounds decided to try and bleed through.

After cleaning up the mess, taking care not to leave any signs that he'd even been there, Alex dropped his T-shirt in his room along with the dirty towel and peroxide. He'd have to wash his clothes before Wolf tried to play caretaker and do it himself.

The crutch lay on the floor beside the bed, and Alex picked it and tucked it under his arm. It was almost a relief to feel it there, it instantly took some of the stress off his foot and leg, not that he'd ever admit it. He still felt like an injured soldier from some long ago war. Just hobbling along in life with the evidence of his past struggles and the resulting injuries always nearby, all the while wishing he could just throw the damned thing down.

Well, at least while he was still injured MI6 wouldn't try to use him. It was almost enough to make him fake his injury for a very, very long time.

Alex descended the stairs inhaling the scent of supper to try and determine just what Wolf thought was an acceptable meal. Cussing made its way to Alex's ears, and he paused at the bottom of the stairs. Along with baked chicken, the obvious smell of something burning was also obvious.

Biting his lip, Alex paused in the doorway and cleared his throat, a smile at the edges of his lips.

Wolf looked up from the oven, which he was peering into cautiously, and scowled. "Don't speak. Just sit down and keep your gob shut."

"How can I eat with my gob shut?"

"Shut it, brat."

Alex waited until Wolf had turned back to the oven and the blackened rolls inside before he made his way to his chair. He didn't dare lean against the back of the chair, even now his shirt seemed to be rubbing against the wounds of his back in a fashion that could not be good for the healing process. But he couldn't very well go around without a shirt, now without suffering Wolf's questions.

He wasn't about to go through one of the, 'how can your parents let you do this?' sessions again. Alex knew he wouldn't be able to lie that well a second time...not about a matter so close to his heart.

Author's Note: So, this lassie found herself a job! I work with darling little children..okay, sometimes they aren't darlings. Like when they bite...and spit...and throw food. *Grin* But it all good when they hug my legs and say, "I love Ms. Riyah!" *Melts* Haven't abandoned any stories, just getting my act together while working full time. :D Thank you all so much for the reviews! I greatly appreciate it! So please make my Inbox ring with happiness and review, THANK YOU! :D