Hey. Long time no write, huh? I won't pile you guys with excuses because I've got a hunch that you didn't click on this story to read what excuses I have.

Disclaimer - I don't own Alex Rider, and I never will.

After the shore disappeared into the distance, and they were both sure that rocks weren't going to be thrown at them, Alex's partner turned to him and gave him a half-amused, half-disapproving look.

Alex smiled rather sheepishly, knowing the disapproving part was from the injuries the stunt caused. "I actually feel better than I look."

"Never mind; the first aid kit's at the back."

"Thanks, Ben."

He took out the first aid kit and set to work, patching himself up the best he could.

Ben became his partner when he accepted Blunt's offer of a full-time agent position with salary, proper rest time and everything. It was true he still longed to be a schoolboy and wasn't really ready to serve MI6 at his own will at the young age of fifteen, but what choice did he have? Jack returned to America, for her dying father, and maybe, just maybe, it would be best if she stayed there. Alex told her that much. He didn't want to intrude into her life anymore. With Jack gone – his last, weak link to any normalcy – he gave up. What was the point in keeping up this flimsy charade? How could he keep it with Jack gone? He had finally chosen espionage because really, there was no other world that would want him.

As a good-bye gift, Jack gave Alex an old-fashioned spyglass. Bronze, soft leather wrapping the mid-section of the short telescope, with a newer glass eyepiece and lens for a clear view.

"So you'll always spot the enemies long before they approach. See all and know all."

"Jack, you know I'm probably never going to use this."

"It's still good for smacking intruders."

"Thanks, Jack."

"You'll be the best spy, Alex. The one who is still standing when everyone else isn't. Remember to be safe for me."

"I will."

Then she was gone, and the house became as quiet as a faint whisper. It felt colder too, without Jack's sunny presence. The only warmth he felt was from the worn leather of the spyglass resting in his grasp.

Now, he would occasionally turn the spyglass around in his hands and inspect the fine details. Oddly enough, it reminded him of only good memories of Jack, and not her abandonment, if you could call it that. Alex usually used the term "departure" over "abandonment". In truth, it was his idea, but it still hurt to some extent. He learned to live with it.

But looking at the spyglass never hurt for whatever reason, and Alex was grateful for that.

He sighed as he rummaged through the first aid kit for more bandages.

Things were different now, for the better, he tried to convince himself. For one, he didn't have to worry about Jack or Tom or Sabina's safety, as he was far from them now. Sometimes, he actually had some fun during the mission, like this one. And the pay – it was huge. Along with the recent missions he did with Ben, MI6 had also paid Alex for the previous, unofficial ones he took on. With so much money, and more to come from Ian when he turned eighteen, he could easily purchase a decent house, but he preferred staying at his Chelsea home. The money was kept mainly in a Swiss bank account, but some of it was stashed in other various bank accounts around the world and, of course, also in a jar under his bed (you never know). Besides the wonderful, ridiculously high salary, being partners with Ben was definitely a plus. He finally had someone to fall back on if he screwed up, someone to trust, to talk to about his worries (both about the missions they were taking on and other things) – just someone he could lean on who wouldn't die on him, backstab him, always came through, and wasn't scared away by him.

God he sounded sappy, but it was so damn true.

He was glad Ben was his partner. They understood each other, and that in itself was something Alex felt eternally blessed for. Not many people really understood him. They only saw a part of Alex, but hardly ever the whole Alex. Other people didn't get why he did some things or what sort of things Alex needed. Ben did. He didn't approve of everything, of course, but there was an understanding between them and he didn't interfere (usually).

They were also always watching each others' backs. Ben even agreed to tell Tom – his best friend, despite everything– at first notice (meaning before MI6) if anything (one thing, actually) were to happen to him and that was if he were to leave this world. In reply, Ben had said rather seriously that Alex wasn't about to die any time soon.

"You're never too young to die. Isn't that what they all say? And it's true."

"Alex. We are not having this conversation. You're not. Going. To die. At. Fifteen. Not on my watch."

"You don't know that."

"Alex! I'm not going to let you die."

"Alright... but whatever happens, happens."

"You're the last person who should be saying that. Aren't you the kid who defied all the laws of nature?"

"Not gravity. I'm not floating right now, am I?"

"You know what I mean. A spy at fourteen. A very accomplished one, to be exact. And actually... you did defy that law."

"Huh?"

"The law of gravity: you went to space, remember?"

Alex smiled. It felt good; he hadn't been smiling very much lately.

The memory had Alex smiling just as fondly as the time he had that conversation.

Finishing up, he returned all the supplies back into the first aid kit and went to the front, joining Ben.

"So, did you get it?"

"Of course," Alex replied. There was a quick flash of white as sunlight glinted off the black USB Alex twirled with his finger by the cord attached to it, before placing it back into his side pants pocket.

"Once we get back on land, we'll be taking the first flight back to England and dropping that USB to the bank."

"Aw... couldn't we stop for ice-cream first?" Alex pouted jokingly.

"No, Alex," Ben said, mock-sternly. "But I'll get you one right after we debrief at the bank. Sounds fair?"

"Okay."

For a couple of minutes, Alex watched as they zipped through the water, leaving white bubbly foam in their wake.

"Oh, and just so you know, I'm holding you to that promise. I know this nice fancy French café that charges ten pounds per scoop and an addition two pounds for sprinkles."

"Seriously?"

"Yep, the ice-cream there is that good. Either that or it's the type of food for celebrities. You know, the kind that's expensive, but tastes like cardboard. Hmm... I'm thinking of a triple scoop ice-cream cone."

"Thirty pounds for ice-cream? I'm not paying for that," Ben said.

"Oh, but you are. You just promised."

"Like hell I will."

"We'll see," Alex smirked.

Alex dozed off a couple of times for short periods, alternatively resting and taking in the beauty of the endless blue sea. He was drinking in all the scenery and exoticness of this mission. If his next mission was at some dull place – say, a factory – he'd have to deal with ugly surroundings for some while: barbed wire on chain-linked fences, grey buildings and chimneys pouring out thick, black smoke. Not very eye-appealing.

After waking up from one of his short naps, Alex started feeling very warm, and wondered if it was because of the blazing sun. It was strange – he hadn't noticed how hot it was before. Now that he thought about it, he felt slightly feverish, with a growing headache. He had never been sea-sick and he was doubtful that was the reason, but he couldn't find another logical explanation.

He opened his mouth to ask Ben if he had something for the sea-sickness, but instead a small moan came out.

Ben glanced over. "Is something the matter?"

"Yeah. I feel like my head's being split into two. I think I'm sea-sick."

"You don't look very well."

In fact, Alex was starting to feel downright terrible. He didn't understand how things turned downhill so quickly. His head was hurting, and he felt clammy all over from cold sweat. The wind around him did nothing to cool him down. Instead, it seemed to make his head dizzy. To make matters worse, his arm was throbbing, and there were parts of his body that was aching.

"Is there something I can take? I might just puke right here, right now."

"In the first aid kit. Do you need some help getting it?" Ben asked, concern in his voice.

Alex waved away his offer.

"I'll be fine." He stood up in his seat and was about to walk to the back to retrieve the pills, when his vision suddenly turned off and he saw black. It came back just as quickly. He wobbled unsteadily from the moment of disorientation.

"Alex?" Ben looked at him with worry.

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry... " Alex never did finish that sentence, for at that very moment, his eyelids grew so heavy it was impossible to keep them open. Knees buckling, blackness seized him, leaving him one last, distant thought before he completely lost consciousness: when on earth did he become the type who got sea-sick? Because he was pretty sure it never affected him before.

He didn't hear Ben's frantic cries of his name.

I found this chapter a bit... weird. I might just rewrite it. Maybe. Maybe not. I don't know. Reviews are always appreciated. /storage-jar