Welcome to I Spy! This Fanfiction began back in September of 2018 when I was a junior in high school (though the first time I wrote a story about a character named Ella Cornell was in 2015 or 16). Now, as a recent college graduate with (hopefully) better writing abilities, I have decided to revisit this story and revise the beginning chapters (1-10). Take a seat, buckle up, and I hope you enjoy the journey!

AN: This fic is going to take place present-day: 2018. I don't feel like sifting through the Horowitz timeline or catching up on 2005 technology (where this fic would take place chronologically). Basically, because Ben Daniels=Wolf, then I can have my fanfic in whatever year I want. Alex Rider events are canon through Never Say Die.

General TW: Strong language. References to trauma, because Alex.

Disclaimer: Alex Rider and anything recognizable belongs to Anthony Horowitz. Any OCs (Ella and crew) and some plot are mine. Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Acceptance

February 2018

Ella:

Nervous. Anxious, restless, distressed. This is how I feel as the envelope looks back at me, menacingly. I practice a breathing technique that my sister taught me in an attempt to calm down. Spoiler alert, it didn't work. I stare back at the envelope. It stares back, tauntingly. Inside is my future. One piece of paper that will determine the rest of my life, for better or for worse. I shudder.

In the end, my curiosity wins out. I pick up the dagger-shaped letter opener that sits on the desk next to me and use it to cut open the stress-inducing envelope. It's a hell of a lot cleaner than slitting a throat, I think to myself, morbidly. I shake my head and swallow the ball of saliva building up in the back of my throat. When I unfold the paper, my eyes race to find the sentence that my entire future rides on. I am no longer breathing as I begin to read:

"Ella Cornell,

Congratulations! You have been accepted to Oxford University."

I sigh with relief. I actually got into Oxford. I stare at the envelope, breathlessly. I am so excited. I have worked so hard to do this for myself. I will be an entire ocean away from my family and I cannot wait. My parents always meant well, but my childhood was in no way normal, and this distance is exactly what I need: a fresh start for my own life.

I race into my brother's room to tell him my good news. I have no idea how the rest of my family will react to this, but I know that Christopher will at least support me.

"Christopher!" I yell when he opens the door, "I got in! I actually got into Oxford!"

He hugs me tightly. "That's amazing, Ellie, I knew you could do it!" I hug him back, enjoying Christopher's calm before the rest of my family's storm.

When he lets go, he looks me in the eyes, knowingly. "How the hell do you plan on telling everyone else?"

I stare at my shoes, not knowing what to say. I've been in situations much more difficult than this one, and yet, I am at a loss. Christopher picks up my chin so I can look him in the face. At only 14 years old, he is 6'0, towering over my 5'6. This is average for my age, 17, but being shorter has always been advantageous to me. "I have no idea."

I already know that my parents will throw a fit. My older siblings joined our "family business," and my mother and father expect me to as well. I've been loosely homeschooled my entire life, and they didn't know I took the SAT and applied to schools around the world. They won't even care that I got in. Rather, they'll be pissed that I'm wasting "4 of my prime years" going to England for college. They will probably be impressed by my sneaking around and keeping things a secret from them, as that is what my family would consider a huge life achievement. Moving away for college, on the other hand…

I should probably explain. I live in Washington D.C., USA with my parents, John and Michelle Cornell, and my siblings, James(21), Ava(18), Christopher(14), and Lilia(10), and I am the middle child. My parents were introduced by a friend, fell in love, married, and had a bunch of kids. In and of itself, this is completely normal. However, when you look into our so-called "family business," things get a bit sketchy. While they claim to be "insurance agents" to the rest of the world, they are a much more dangerous type of agent. They are secret agents, or quite simply spies, and they work for the CIA. They've been training us since birth to follow in their footsteps, and James and Ava already did. We've all been on missions as part of their cover, as well as on our own, and we've all seen and done shit that children really shouldn't.

I'm truly sick of it. I hate killing and fighting for my life. I want to be normal which means spending some time away from my family. This is why I applied to so many colleges all outside of the USA. I have the skills and the languages to live and thrive in many other places, thanks to my unusual upbringing, so I applied to schools in 9 different countries.

I've been to England numerous times on missions, and the idea of living there has always appealed to me. Anyways, besides English, my mother tongue, I speak Dutch, French, German, Arabic, Spanish, Italian, Hebrew, Indonesian, and Russian fluently, and I'm nearly there with Chinese. I have an arsenal of other skills, but right now, I'm focusing on how to deliver "bad" news.

"Mom and Dad are going to kill me."

"James and Ava will be slightly more supportive, but they are stuck in the old days of family tradition." Christopher supplied, helpfully.

I almost forgot. My family's spying "tradition" has been around since the Revolutionary War, so it's more than just one generation of tradition I'm planning on breaking. "Lili won't say anything, though," Christopher reminds me, referring to Lilia, our youngest sister, "I'd practice on her."

I nod my head. This is logical. "Okay, but you're coming with me to break the news to her."

"This is coming from the girl who once told an evil megalomaniac to suck her dick." Christopher points out, unhelpfully. I cringe at the memory.

When I tell Lilia about Oxford, (she doesn't know I applied) she is nothing but excited for me. I kind of don't think she's too keen on the whole "working for the CIA until you're killed in the field" thing. James is. Ava sort of is. Christopher is. Lilia and I are not. We want a life of happiness and freedom, not one of lies and secrecy until we are caught and killed. There's no retiring from spying, and I just hope that I am getting out early enough.

Later in the day, I make dinner for everyone. My parents and older siblings have been at HQ for work all day, so I decide to relieve them of the dinner-making stress.

I am just plating chicken parmesan, salad, and pasta when everyone comes home from work.

"Thanks, Ella for making dinner," my mother smiles at me. I am about to break this poor woman's heart, I think to myself. I really do love my family: I just hate that I'm being forced into a career of death and violence. I know that they just want what's best for America. This is both noble and patriotic, yet what's best for America is me being a spy, which is not what is best for me.

We sit and eat in silence. No one can exactly talk about their day at work, and Christopher, Lilia, and I spent the day studying languages and practicing karate, a martial art that my entire family, except Lilia, since she's still young, has black belts in.

My stomach feels like a pit. I pick at my food, feeling too nauseous to put any in my mouth.

"You okay, Ella?" Ava asked me, concerned.

My dad glances in my direction. "She's hiding something," he states, plainly. I'm a goddamn spy. You think I'd be able to hide something better than that. Then again, Dad has been in the business for decades. "Ella, why are you hiding something?"

I swallow hard. I am freaking out. "Some say hiding, I say 'waiting for the right time to share information.'"

My dad eyes me, suspiciously. "Now is as good a time as any."

Come on, Ella, you can do this. I think to myself. "Everyone," I say nervously. I carefully practiced this conversation a million times in my head since I applied, but it all went to hell when I began to speak. I stuttered my words out of sheer anxiety. "I applied to college, to, um, Oxford University in England, and I, uh, got in?"

"And…?" my dad says, urging me on.

"And I want to move to England for college instead of staying here and working for the CIA," I blurt out.

I do the impossible. I manage to surprise four spies that have known me since before I was even born. Except for Christopher and Lilia, my entire family looks shell-shocked. My dad is the first to recover. "And do what, Ella, work for British intelligence? You have connections here with the CIA, and you should stay. Besides, I thought we've already had this discussion and agreed on Georgetown."

I struggle to respond. "Actually, Dad, I don't want to be a spy."

My mom and siblings were speechless. My dad looks stunned. Dad never looks stunned. What did I just do to my poor father? "But- but- Ella? You are a spy. You come from a family of spies. What about the greater good?"

"Why should I be the one expected to risk my life for a country that hasn't given me anything in return? I never wanted this life, and I need to get away from here for my own sanity."

"But Ella," My dad is speaking again, "What about your training? You've always been the best of your siblings."

A series of sarcastic responses erupts from my siblings:

"Wow, thanks, Dad."

"Love you too."

"Good to know that no one is playing favorites."

"If Ella's gone, can I be your favorite?"

"Ella's not going anywhere." My dad says, deciding my future for me.

This pisses me off. "No!" I exclaim, before I can stop myself, "I want my own life. I want freedom, and I don't want to fear for my life during missions for the so-called 'greater good.' I don't want to kill anyone else, no matter how evil they are. I want to go to school in England, and form actual human connections."

"You are meant to be here, in Washington," My dad sighs. While he has decades of experience with disagreements in the field, none of his children have ever yelled at him.

Wanting to get my way, I just shrug. "I don't see how you can stop me."

"Use your imagination, Ella, I have the entire CIA backing me. There is nowhere in the world you can hide from me." My dad challenges.

"I have connections," I say, nonchalantly, "I can change my name, get a new identity, get plastic surgery, and move halfway across the globe. You'll never see me again. Or, you can support me. I can stay Ella Cornell, and we can maintain a relationship. I just," I sigh, "I just can't live in this life full of secrets and lies. It's a trap and not one I want to die because of."

My dad's head is buried in his hands. My mother is visibly crying. James is on his phone, and Ava is silent. Christopher and Lilia sensed awkwardness a while ago and left, but I saw them watching us and listening in from the nearby staircase.

"What did we do wrong?" My mother sobs, "Ella, I love you, please, please stay."

"Mom," I say soothingly, "You did nothing wrong. I'm not leaving you, I'm leaving your career. I've experienced the field, and it's not how I want to spend the rest of my life, and it's not how I want to die. I can still help my country in other ways, without losing my life."

"I have 5 kids, and she, the best spy, wants to quit." I hear my dad mumble.

"I'm sorry, Dad, but I'm going to Oxford in July."

My dad is silent for a few minutes. Eventually, he just shrugs. "Ella, I don't want to fight you. You can go to Oxford under a few conditions. One, you will have a security guard outside of your dorm at all times. Two, you will continue to go on missions for the CIA until you leave. Three, you'll come back and visit, damnit." My dad is crying. In my 17 years, I have never seen my dad cry. I nod my head, knowing that this is my best bet. "And if you ever miss the business, and I do hope you reconsider, join '6 in England. From what I've heard, they have no qualms about using children to do their dirty work."

"What? '6 uses child agents?" I have always thought only the CIA was cruel enough to do that.

"Child agent," My dad corrects me, "Just one."

I file away this piece of information. I wonder if we'll ever cross paths. Knowing my knack for finding trouble, there is a very good chance.

I say none of this when I look back at my dad. "I love you, Dad."

"I love you too, Ellie, and you are always welcome to come back home." I smile. That was a hell of a lot easier than I ever expected.

I can't wait to live in England. Only 5 more months to go in this hellhole.

A fresh start will be great, I think as I get up to wash my plate.