Aaaand, I'm back. It's been pointed out in a review that my story bears remarkable resemblance to Pygmymeese's An Unexpected Return. I would like to mention that I have personally spoken to Pygmymeese and have her blessing. On that note, I hope you enjoy the different direction my story takes. I think if anything could make it more obvious, it would be the deeply emotional scene between Cassie and her father today. It was...VERY difficult for me to write. I hope you enjoy it.

I would also like to mention that the negative reviews brought on by people thinking I was stealing from another author nearly caused me to write a VERY pissy AN. The only reason I didn't knows who he is. (This is me being the bigger person. You suck.)

Sometimes I wish my thoughts could just be turned off. There are nights I wish for sleep with all my heart. Usually for me, these nights take place after I see Alex. I try counting sheep, I listen to music, I read my economics book. Nothing works. Tonight, as I lay staring at the ceiling, I couldn't help but think of all the things I could be doing with my time instead of counting the glow-in-the-dark stars I had put up the month after my mom left. Slowly sitting up, I made the executive decision to go downstairs and fix some herbal tea.

I cracked my door quietly and tiptoed past my dad's room at the top of the stairs. Skipping the creaky stair, I froze in the kitchen doorway. The sight that greeted me was unnerving. My dad was sitting at the table with his head in his hands. I couldn't tell if he was asleep or simply upset, as his back was towards me. I made sure to make a noise before entering the kitchen. I had grown up with him and I knew how fast his reflexes were. Asleep or not, if he happened to be surprised by me showing up behind him…well, let's just say that being near him was a dangerous place to be and leave it at that.

As my elbow rustled against the countertop, he quickly raised his head and turned to look at me. Acknowledging my presence, he sat up and stretched his back over the top of the chair.

"What are you doing up, kiddo?"

I held up a mug. "Couldn't sleep. I was going to make some tea. Want any?"

"Go ahead and make mine a double." He rubbed his eyes and stood up to stretch some more. "Is there something on your mind?"

"More like a lot of things." I set the tea kettle on the stove. "You ever get the vibe that Uncle Cub doesn't tell us anything important in his life?"

He scoffed and sat back down at the table. Placing his elbows on the table, he rested his head back in his hands. "Oh Cass, you have no idea." Head still buried in his hands, he shifted his face to look at me. "Why? Did he say something to you today?"

I sat down at the other side of the table while I waited for my water to boil. "Not really. It was more of a gut feeling. Today at school, he and Mr. Grizzle had an odd "staring" moment that I didn't know what to make of. And I know he doesn't come around all that much because he works all the time and he's always in other countries. And I know you met him through your work, so he has to do something for the government. He's always just so…so…"

"Secretive?"

"Ugh! Yes! Is he like that with you?"

My dad shook his head. "I guess I've just known him longer. I know how to read his body language, despite how hard he's tried to hide it. Cass, there's a lot you don't know about Cub. And there's a lot you don't need to know about Cub."

I sighed. "Is there anything you can tell me? Just a hint? Sometimes I just feel like I'm hitting a brick wall. It's irritating."

Dad contemplated the wall behind me for a second. Reaching a decision, he looked back at me. "Did I ever tell you the story about how the rest of the unit and I met Cub?"

I quirked an eyebrow at him. "You have not. Interesting back-story? I always assumed you had met him through a family friend of some sort…"

He scoffed again. "I wish I had met him through a family friend. That would make for a safer alternative." He shook his head. "I met Cub at a SAS training camp six years ago in Wales when I was being trained. He was with us for a little more than a week and really was quite good. If I remember correctly, we were real wankers. Treated him like right shite." He paused to look at me. "Don't repeat those words."

I rolled my eyes.

He looked back down at the table. "After eleven days of training, Cub disappeared. Two months later, the SAS were called in to help clean up a mess an agent made in a foreign country. Wolf headed up the team with Uncle Ryan, Ben, and I trailing along for the ride.* We flew into France hearing tales of a young boy who had snowboarded down a mountain on a cut up ironing board and run head first into a train. None of us really believed it, but Wolf walked off to meet the agent and came back bearing Alex. We all assumed that Alex was just our eyes to the inside of the building we were going to storm, but then he blew up a helicopter with a snowmobile…"

I snorted and he looked up at me.

"I'm serious Cass. You cannot imagine the explosion." I shook my head and watched him get up as the tea kettle started whistling. Moving around and getting the tea ready, he continued. "I never really ran into him in the line of duty after that. Wolf did frequently. I know that after Ben quit SAS, he saw Alex much more often. The first time I saw him after France was when Ben came over one night dragging Alex with him. It was maybe five years ago. He was 16, but didn't look it."

His eyes got haunted as he passed me my tea. He walked back to the other side of the table and sat back down. Cradling the warm mug in his hands, he spoke into it, "He looked like a man twice his age. Almost world weary." He was whispering at this point, "Cass, if you ever look at me like that before you hit 50, I might burst into tears."

I reached across the table and offered my hand. He gripped it and squeezed tightly.

"You're always gonna be my little girl, right kiddo?"

I squeezed back. "Of course, daddy."

He nodded and took a sip of his tea. We spent the next five minutes drinking from our mugs in silence. He finished first and took his mug to the sink.

"I'm going to bed, Cass. You good down here?"

I nodded.

"Alright. Don't forget you have school tomorrow and make sure to take your doctor's excuse. And please shut everything off down here before you go up."

He cuffed the top of my head and headed upstairs.

I finished off the dregs of my drink and placed it in the sink next to the other dirty mug. I flipped the light switch and headed upstairs to my room, thoughts swarming. I had hoped tea would calm my mind, but the discussion had simply aroused more questions. If Alex had started training when he was 14 and was already working missions two months later, how many missions had he gone on? Clearly he was smart enough to sneak around…so did he go to school? If so, when? Had he lived by himself this entire time with no one to look after him? Were his parents in the army and was that how he had gotten into the Welsh training camp? Dozens of questions floating around in my head, I got back in bed and shut my eyes.

I composed a mental checklist of what I had known previously compiled with what I had learned tonight:

Alex was from London

Alex (AKA Cub) went to SAS training when he was 14.

Two months later, he was partaking in missions.

Six years later, he traveled like crazy and made ridiculous sums of money.

He knew his way around Brookland and was possibly recognized by a teacher.

"Now there's something…" If Alex had gone to Brookland, he would have been at the school when he went to training. Which logically meant that he had been pulled out of school (or had voluntarily left) in order to work with the SAS. It also meant that two months later, when he was undercover in a foreign country, that he wouldn't have been in school either. In the middle of May. It was like a metaphorical light bulb clicking on.

I sat straight up. Eyes wide, I whispered under my breath, "Alex is Alex Rider." I quickly looked around my room and out my window, making sure no one was listening in. …Of course no one was listening. It was two in the morning and I lived on the second story. I slowly sunk back under the covers, grinning to myself and resolved to find the information that proved my hypothesis.

Somewhere in Chelsea, Alex Rider woke up, sneezed, and went back to bed.**

As always, this was written with help from awesome peoples...such as Dave, SamayouTamash, and numerous others.

I haven't even started chapter 5, but I'll start working on it soon!

Thanks!

*It never actually places K-Unit in France. It merely says Wolf and seven SAS guys. Given the fact that Horowitz names Wolf personally…but none of the others, I can only assume that Fox, Eagle, and Snake weren't there. However, for the sake of my fanfiction, we'll assume they were, eh?

**I've always been told that if someone's thinking deep thoughts about you, it causes you to sneeze. Somewhat like if you're talking about someone, it causes their ears to burn? That's where this statement came from.

~Moldy