An Unexpected Return

When Alex finds himself back at Brookland ten years after graduation, he discovers that his name has yet to be forgotten. Oh dear. New students and old teachers alike might just have trouble wrapping their minds around the idea of a respectable Alex Rider, age twenty-seven, and not a gang member or a drug addict.

Disclaimer: Isn't owning people immoral and illegal, or something? Hmph! I do not condone it, as fictional as said people are. Let Anthony Horowitz keep his characters!

Note: A HUGE thanks to So1said for her expert editing skills! Do I hear a round of applause? Yes, I do. (...or I could be crazy. Meh. Either works.)

Kathryn was distressed.

"I didn't mean to, Uncle Cub! I thought it would be funny. And kinda cool." Kathryn frowned out the car window, miffed that her less-than-ingenious plan got her into trouble. It didn't take long for her self-pity to turn to self-righteousness.

"Anyway, if you had just told me you went to Brookland I wouldn't have had to figure it out myself and blab to the class that you're actually the kid that everyone still talks about ten years later and actually Haynes was acting kind of creepy when he figured it out which is really weird because he's definitely one of the best teachers at school like there was this one time that we were doing this experiment and we all thought it was going to be brutal because it was about limiting reactants and the worksheets involved the most complicated equations you'd ever see but when we got into class that day it was super cool because there were biscuits and marshmallows and chocolate at all of the lab stations and we got to ignore the whole 'don't eat anything when you do an experiment' rule which is frankly a stupid rule because who decides to eat something you make with chemicals at a laboratory during an experiment?"

As many skills as Alex had gained over the years, following the thoughts of teenage girls was not one of them. He muddled through the irrelevant ones.

"Kathryn," Alex started hesitantly, "you know that most of my past is classified. Anyway, you wouldn't be interested in most of it."

Unfortunately for Alex, he forgot that the excuse he had used for years had been proven just that – an excuse. After all, he was the Alex Rider of Brookland infamy.

"Don't tell me that I wouldn't be interested in it. You're Alex Rider! Didn't you take out the entire science wing with a giant crane after setting fire to the principal's office? And then there are those rumours about drugs or something, which are obviously fake because you would never do that. Anyway, how is a past filled with stories like that not interesting?" argued Kathryn. She hesitated, though, after seeing her Uncle's reluctance. "I won't push if it's that… bad. But somehow, I don't think it was as bad as you remember it. Besides, it's the past. What do you think could possibly happen if you tell me some of it?" With that, Kathryn unbuckled her seat belt, opened the car door, and walked into the doctor's office.

For a fifteen-year-old, her argument wasn't too shabby. Alex slowly followed Kathryn into the building. But- no. Not her, not here, not now.

He stopped abruptly, hand hovering over the doorknob. Wait. When did I crash a crane into the school?

After Kathryn was pronounced healthy, Alex drove her back to Brookland. Kathryn's appointment didn't last as long, and Alex was a firm believer in taking every opportunity to learn. Of course, Alex had an ulterior motive– determining Dr. Haynes' ulterior motive.

It wasn't suspicious to Ms. Bedfordshire when Alex strolled by the main office in search of Dr. Haynes. She remembered all of the extra hours Alex had spent in the lab, scrambling to catch up with the rest of the Chemistry students. Nor was it suspicious to the other teachers that an old student visit the professor whom they suspected to be the only teacher who could have reformed the poor, delinquent Alex Rider.

Thus, Alex found himself staring at a wooden door, decorated with a simple, black nameplate that proclaimed "DR. BENJAMIN HAYNES" in stout, white letters. The sounds of rustling papers and furious scribbling escaped through the open crack in the door. Hesitantly, he reached up to knock on the door.

"Enter," bellowed a voice, followed by a grumpy mutter, "there's a reason the door's open."

Alex slipped into the small office, a soft click resounding as he shut the door. "Afternoon, Dr. Haynes."

Dr. Haynes looked up, twirling a red pen in his fingers. He sat back in his chair, long legs stretched beneath the desk, pleased with this development. "Alex! Back again so soon? It seems but a minute ago we were chatting so amicably."

Alex narrowed his eyes, scrutinising the man before him. Haynes certainly wasn't young. Laugh lines were creased by his green eyes, and his hair line had begun to recede. Haynes looked perfectly harmless, surrounded by his bookshelves and papers; this was clearly his natural habitat. Stripes of warm sunlight danced along the walls as he twisted his red pen between his fingers, a startling movement in an otherwise still room. The smile on his face had levelled out during Alex's scrutiny.

"Now," began Haynes, leaning forward onto the desk, "I believe I know the reason for your visit. And if I am right, and that it is not, in fact, for some long neglected bonding with an old teacher, then there are a number of ways this conversation could proceed. Personally, I'm suspecting it will most likely centre around a confrontation fuelled by contained anger, although the exact details are up to you. Perhaps a few wild gesticulations or ad hominem abuse?"

A moment of silence. Then-

"What are you talking about?" Alex allowed an incredulous look to appear on his face. "Can you stop talking like– like that for a minute and just explain what the hell you were doing back in that classroom?

"Now wait a moment, Alex. I deserve some credit. First, there was the fact that you had just walked in after ten years, looking so ordinary. The older teachers had started to bet over when you'd be showing up in the news with a wanted label under your picture. Second, I know Kathryn. She's a good girl with good role models, including a hitherto faceless Uncle Cub whom she obviously adores. Third, I know you. At least, I did. You've changed, and I'd like to think for the better."

Alex stood, stone faced. Haynes sighed, searching for words.

"When you used to come back after your absences, you were…" He paused. "Quiet. Quiet and wary, and a little bit ferocious. It felt like you were held together by pieces of old tape. You could have exploded, or more likely imploded at any moment. But there was always something determined about you. Focused. Intelligent– and not the ponderous intelligence of philosophers. You were sharp, and always observing and analysing. When you spent time with me making up what you'd missed during your so-called sicknesses, I could see that potential. Had you spent as much time with the other teachers, they would have realized those rumours about your takeover of the local drug ring or other preposterous stories were false. But you didn't, so neither did they.

"Today, when Kathryn let your name slip, it was brilliant. You hold yourself so differently! The determination, focus, and intelligence are still there, but instead of being cowed by whatever you were going through, it seems that they've finally been allowed to shine. Most of all, you look... ready would be the best word. That tape that held you together has obviously been replaced with something stronger. Duct tape, perhaps. Or hot glue. If your metaphorical self is metal, we might even say you were soldered or welded. But that's beside the point; you were – are – intriguing. Quite the puzzle. It's just now seeing you that some missing pieces have appeared."

Haynes smiled dreamily; Alex shifted awkwardly. They stared at each other, Alex, once again, trying to make sense of Haynes' words, and Haynes lost somewhere within his thoughts. Finally, Alex broke the silence.

"So you interrogated me loudly and clearly in front of your class because Kathryn's a good girl, my metaphorical self is metal, and you were curious?"

"Hmmm. I admit my logic was a bit flawed." Haynes tapped his finger against his mouth.

"A bit?"

"Oh, calm down, Mr. Rider," exasperatedly exclaimed Haynes, rolling his eyes. "What do you think going to happen because of this? Helicopters will surround the school in a frenzy as soldiers march up through the halls, seizing the students unfortunate enough to listen to our conversation and hauling them off to an undisclosed location for an undisclosed number of years?"

"Knowing my luck, yes," muttered Alex.

"What was that?"

"That doesn't change the facts the students–"

"Know absolutely nothing. They're teenagers; they don't know how to listen! The most they heard and understood of that conversation was that you're Alex Rider, you claimed to have done nothing important for the past decade, and you have ties to the military and Kathryn. That, coupled with the outrageous rumours floating about, they'll end up knowing for certain that you're such an influential man in the underworld that the military needed your help despite your less than legal activities in building your syndicate. I'll be curious, though, to see how they fit in Kathryn."

"And you? What have you ended up knowing?" The apprehensive feeling from that morning crept up on Alex again.

"As much as I wish for the opposite," sighed Haynes, "I know our government does not always behave in an honourable fashion. Anyone is fair game as long as the objective is completed. I can't do much with the knowledge beyond satisfying an old curiosity."

Well, thought Alex, that was not how I expecting things to turn out. And it wasn't. He had gone in expecting a fight. After all, if there were any teacher Alex had respected at Brookland, it was Dr. Haynes. When few others would behave normally around him, or even speak to him at all, Haynes simply taught, expecting excellence from all. He had accepted Alex's desire to continue with his fractured studies, and did not hold him in contempt as the rumours grew uncontrollably. In a way, this morning's disrespect for Alex's desire for obscurity was a betrayal.

But…

He understood Haynes. As much as Alex would have liked to give in to his angry emotions, he felt in Haynes' debt. Ten years ago, to not be looked at like scum of the Earth or as a weapon, but rather as Alex Rider, was a gift. To be tacitly recognised as a human being that was worth something, especially after that recognition had been cruelly ripped away from him in the first place, had kept him grounded. Furthermore, it was one thing to recognise him with the knowledge of his secret, but different thing entirely to be trusted without knowing it. Haynes had given that trust to Alex and gave Alex faith that he didn't need to be stuck with reminders of his spy life in his every interaction and relationship.

"Thank you." Alex stared directly into Haynes' eyes, conveying respect for the eccentric teacher that had never really left.

Haynes smiled a welcome. "Does this mean I get to hear your daring escapades from around the world? Because that would be extremely fascinating." Haynes stood up, caught within his own imagination, and began to act out his ponderings. "Sneaking around the world, toppling conspiracies left and right! One night in Beijing, the next in Rio de Janeiro, then back to London; one man, keeping the world safe from the shadows." Haynes whipped his arms through the air in Alex's direction; Alex being Alex, caught one and twisted it behind Haynes' back.

"That's not what happened, and no, you do not get to hear them," said Alex, a twinge of annoyance creeping into his voice. "This is the problem with those idiot spy movies and books. It's all romanticised rubbish! I will tell you it sucks to be stuck in the jail cell of a megalomaniac or surrounded by thugs with a knife pressed against your back–"

The door opened and a boy walked in, saw Alex's unusual hold on the professor, replayed the last few seconds of conversation he heard, and slowly backed out, stammering, "Y– you look, umm, busy, so I'll ju– just, ah, come back tomorrow and get your help then." He swallowed audibly and bolted out of the office.

"Wait, Mr. Hamilton! James! " Haynes called out through the doorway, out of Alex's arm twist as soon as the boy had come into the room. A few curious students, filtering into the hall as school ended, connected the exasperated expression on Haynes' face with James' rushed scurrying, and followed the poor boy to hear what was sure to be juicy gossip.

Both men sighed. Neither were truly surprised at the incident; trouble like that just gravitated around Alex.

The bell rang, and Alex and Haynes shook hands.

"I believe that means I have to go pick up Kathryn," said Alex reluctantly.

"You are always welcome in my office, Mr. Rider. Do come and visit. I adore seeing old students of mine." With a final lift of his hand, Haynes sunk back into his chair, and Alex walked to the door feeling oddly light-hearted. As soon as he stepped out, however, he remembered how quickly rumours spread among teenagers.

Oh, bloody hell.

Hello, hello! Once again, I plead for your reviews! And please be critical about this story; this particular chapter caused me much stress in my attempts to use appropriate diction, a hole-less plot, and syntax that doesn't make people cringe. Regardless, I hope you enjoyed the second part, and tell me if you have any ideas, comments, questions, criticisms, witticisms, and/or limericks!

NOTE (4-6-13): Minor edits.