Chapter 46: A Set Up

After nearly a week, Alex was pretty sure he was going to lose his mind. He had been cooped up in the same small room for what felt like an eternity, though Sheppard had tried to reassure him that it really was for his own protection.

Protection from what… well, he had been a bit sketchier on those details.

The only positive had been that over the past two days, Sheppard had looked almost as ready to jump out of his skin as Alex had felt – and the man had at least another two weeks with his cast on.

What a pair they made.

Everything was healing well, according to Dr. Beckett. Who had apparently taken over the infirmary – possibly again? There was a history there that Alex wasn't entirely sure on. Whatever the case, his shoulder was going to take another several weeks to get back to normal, but the evidence of the stabbing was rapidly disappearing. The stitches had already been removed and all that remained was a slightly angry looking scar.

He had even graduated into normal clothing and non-supervised trips to the bathroom.

"You ready to blow this popsicle stand?"

Alex didn't jump.

Not at all.

Just, turned around rapidly to see who had managed to sneak up on him.

That was all.

Sheppard snorted from where he was balanced in the doorway. He seemed to have perfected the art of using his crutches, while still maintaining that slouched posture, because it didn't even look like it took that much effort anymore. "Well? You've been cleared for quarters."

Alex couldn't help the anxious glance at the door, as if Dr. Beckett would appear and say it was all just a joke. "Really?"

"Soon as your escort gets here, yep."

Alex rolled his eyes. "You do realize I spent hours traversing the city on my own, right?"

"Hmm, yes… and Rodney won't let me hear the end of it."

"It's not like I broke anything." Permanently, that was.

Sheppard snorted, then crossed the room to take a seat in the only empty chair.

Alex took the cue for what it was and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"No, nothing permanent. But lots of things to clean up around the city – and you got your hands on the chair."

Alex could almost hear the implied reverence.

"That's practically Rodney's baby."

Which, to be fair, he had pushed through a couple of things – with the shield sensors and everything – that probably made Rodney less than happy. "Figured he would rather be annoyed than dead." And well, he hadn't exactly wanted Sheppard to die either.

There were complicated feelings there that he really hadn't had enough time or space to start to process.

He really needed a new therapist… Someone unbiased.

"Once you're out of here, Daniels is going to want a statement. And… it's probably not going to be pretty." Sheppard was visibly chewing on his lip, before he let out a rush of air. "So, before you think everyone is ganging up on you, we… us… I wouldn't be alive if you hadn't done what you did. And I… thank you for that." It sounded awkward and stilted, as if he couldn't quite put into words what he actually wanted to say. "And then you did exactly what you were supposed to – and kept yourself safe. More or less."

And if either of them had died… there wouldn't have been a chance to figure anything out.

"What's going to happen out there?" Because if Sheppard was showing his appreciation now… He had no idea what had truly been going on in the world outside the infirmary walls – everyone had been very specific in making sure he knew nothing.

"Daniels is going to ask you to recount what happened, in detail. Probably ask some questions. There are… some issues that have been raised by the IOA that we'll have to account for. Other… issues as well…" He trailed off and Alex had a sinking feeling that the other issues were the bigger problem. Whatever it was. "None of this will result in you being sent back to Earth. I guarantee that. But it might… feel like it. There were more Trust operatives in the city than we had anticipated and finding them all has been… a bit of a nightmare."

There was no missing how uncomfortable Sheppard looked at the prospect and Alex really wondered what he had missed.

What was happening that had sent things into turmoil. Or rather, kept them in turmoil.

How much was the IOA breathing down the necks to ensure that everything was dealt with? Sure, Dr. Madsen had been bad and Woolsey had had something going on, but… They had been invaded. Surely that was enough of an explanation for any of his… out of the ordinary actions.

Of course, he had probably just been too competent.

There was another knock on the door, and Alex just barely heard Sheppard mutter, "This ought to be good," under his breath, before his attention swiveled completely to the man at the door.

"Wolf." Alex bit out. It was more a curse than anything and the man grimaced at the name.

"Nice to see you're staying out of trouble, Cub."

Alex scowled at the nickname, but huffing and crossing his arms didn't quite have the same effect when one was still in a sling. "And you're following Ben around now?"

The man cocked a hip against the doorframe, regarding Alex carefully. "You know, that was the one thing he never had a good answer for, how you know his name."

Alex gave a one-shouldered shrug. "Unimportant."

"Hmm…" He stayed there a moment longer, before pushing off the doorframe. "Well, it's Braxton, to you now."

Alex glanced between Braxton and Sheppard. "And?"

"Daniels requested he be assigned to you for the near future," Sheppard said, carefully not making eye contact. "Until things settle a little more. Congrats, you got an upgrade."

Assigned to you.

Alex felt all the blood drain out of his face. But they had said— "G-Greg? You said he was fine." He couldn't help the crack in his voice.

He had left him in that storage closet.

He had been shot.

Surely, they wouldn't have lied.

But they hadn't said anything either.

Distinctly avoided the topic of anyone else in the city unless it directly pertained to his care.

He didn't know who had died – if any – during the invasion.

Sheppard reached out a hand and rested it on Alex's knee. "He's fine. Completely whole and healthy. Scarred a little, maybe, but fine." But there was something he wasn't saying.

Alex clenched his fist, trying to drive away that fission of fear.

Of utter certainty that he had lost the one person he implicitly trusted.

Well… perhaps not the one person.

Sheppard was steadily working his way up there.

"Look, things are just complicated right now, and Daniels would prefer to have Captain Braxton looking after you for now."

It sounded like an excuse.

"Just get through the statement, get some rest, and you can reminisce with Braxton about your boot camp days." Sheppard tried for a grin, but there was something he was hiding. Something about Greg. Something that they didn't want to mention.

And there had to be a reason for it. A reason for all the subterfuge.

There was always a reason.

"Yeah, sure." Alex took a deep breath and pushed up from the bed. "Let's get this over with, then." He sketched a glance at Braxton, before smirking in Sheppard's direction. "Did Braxton here tell you I kicked him out of a plane once?"

Sheppard snorted, before getting up himself. "Somehow, I think he forgot to mention that on his resume."

If glares could kill, Alex would be dead. He resisted a cackle as they left the room.

Alex had been let loose for just long enough to go back to his room and find a comfortable, clean, change of clothes, and then Braxton had summarily escorted him back through the halls, into one of the main conference rooms. How the man had figured out the layout of the city that quickly… Alex wasn't sure. And he was definitely not a little bit jealous.

Maybe just a little.

Inside the conference room though, it felt a little more like a setup for an interrogation than just taking a statement. Ben was there, as suspected with his shiny new title of Expedition Leader. So were Lorne and Sheppard, though Alex was a little unclear on what exactly Sheppard had been cleared for duty for at this point. Rodney, Dr. Beckett, and Teyla were the stranger additions to the room. And was that… Eagle?

Braxton gestured him toward the single seat in front of this panel – and boy, did it feel more like an execution panel than anything else.

An inquiry board.

"Have a seat, Alex," Ben said, unnecessarily. "We'll get started here in just a moment."

He tried not to flinch as the doors to the room locked down, sealing them all inside.

Definitely an interrogation.

Ben shuffled around some more papers on the desk, pointed something out of Lorne, who was on his immediate right, and then pulled out one of the recording pens. "For the record, would all present please state your full name."

Alex glanced at everyone, but only Teyla gave him any sort of reassuring acknowledgement. "Uh… Alex Rider."

"Teyla Emmagan, of the Athosians."

"Major Evan Lorne."

"Colonel John Sheppard."

"Dr. Rodney McKay."

"Dr. Carson Beckett."

"Master Sergeant Clifford Newsome." Eagle.

"Captain James Braxton."

"Director Ben Daniels." Ben cleared his throat, before glancing down at his papers. "Thank you. Today we are here to hear the statement of Alex Rider regarding his experiences during the invasion of the Astrians." Ben sounded monotone, but there was a tightness to his jaw that was worrying. "For the record, Alex has been recuperating in the infirmary due to injuries sustained during the aforementioned event. Thus, the delay. Alex, please describe in your own words what occurred on January 15."

Alex stared blankly at him. He wanted… everything? Just all at once?

"You may start with what you were doing during the morning negotiation meeting."

Alex darted a glance in Sheppard's direction. Was he supposed to tell the whole truth and nothing but the truth? Everyone present was well aware of what he could do – and had done. But who else would hear this recording or see this transcript?

Was he expected to just spill everything?

"Umm…" There were no hints, no changes in expression. Nothing that told him what he was supposed to do. So… He would just… skim on some of the details, until they asked further. "I was assisting Dr. Zelenka with repairs on one of the sump pumps in Sector D12…"

Alex darted a glance at the entire panel, trying to judge what they wanted. Teyla's pleasantly neutral expression had quickly grown infuriating. Ben's relentless questioning was like picking at an old scab – the harder he prodded, the more this was going to hurt later. And Sheppard… Sheppard had hardly made eye contact, staring at the piece of paper on the table in front of him as if it had personally offended him.

"What more do you want from me?" The words tried to stick in his throat. He felt like he had been talking for hours. Days. Eternity.

Ben hadn't been satisfied with nearly any of his answers. Eagle – because Alex had already forgotten what his real name was – was clearly trying to play good cop, but didn't know the playing board like Ben did.

Why were you accompanying Dr. Zelenka once the lockdown occurred? What could your expertise add? Couldn't Pilkes have split off? Shouldn't you have holed up and made sure you were safe? What happened with Dr. Zelenka?

Why did you abandon your escort? Did you not trust him? He had gotten injured; did you see that as a weakness? Was he really injured? Or was he trying to get you to stay in place?

When you realized that the intruders were invisible, why did you continue? What was your end goal? Why did you feel it your responsibility to go poking around in things you shouldn't have? Things you should, by no means, have access to?

How did you access the chair room mainframe? Why were you able to manipulate controls that most inhabitants of the city do not have access to? Did you ask or bribe someone to give that access to you previously? How did you make contact with the Daedalus?

Who authorized your movements through the city? Why did you work with Ronon? Why did you remove your sub cue?

What was Gregoria's focus on you? Had you met her previously? Had contact with anyone similar to her? Did you recognize any of the intruders?

Why did you do what you did?

How did you kill her? Why did you kill her?

Alex had shuddered at that question. Because there was no other way.

"In your judgment, were the actions you took that day made entirely within your own culpability?"

"Wh-what?" Alex's brain stuttered over the words.

"Were the actions you took that day made entirely within your own culpability?"

Alex rolled his eyes. "Saying the same words again doesn't make it make any more sense."

"Do you take responsibility for your actions, good or bad, that day, with no known outside force acting upon you?"

"I mean, I didn't exactly want everyone to die…" Alex set his jaw, trying to get something – anything – from the room.

Sheppard was staring at his piece of paper, with half lidded eyes – clear that he wanted to be anywhere but here. In this interrogation.

Which this was.

It felt like a witch hunt – like they were trying to trap him into saying something, admitting something, he had done wrong.

Had he broken most of the rules? Yes. But there had been extenuating circumstances.

People – their leaders – were going to die.

And Alex would have been screwed if everyone who as supposed to be protecting him was dead.

A lose, lose, lose situation.

But none of that made sense, because these were the people that were supposed to be on his side. Supposed to be the ones protecting him from saying anything incriminating.

"But you take responsibility for your actions? You were of sound mind, without any undue outside influences?

Someone needed to give him a clue – anything. But all he had was a room full of poker faces. Surprisingly, even from Rodney as he poked at his data pad. Nothing more.

Alex blew out a long breath. "No. No outside influences."

"Has Lieutenant Simmons made any attempt to contact you since the invasion?" Eagle asked, hardly glancing at his papers anymore.

Alex blinked at the out of the blue question. "Uh, no?"

"Anyone else outside those currently present in this room?"

He darted another useless glance in Sheppard's direction. As if now he would give him some sort of answer. A hint as to what the hell was going on.

Nothing.

"No one," Alex said, trying to resist the urge to slouch in his chair, as if he had failed a test. Because that's what this felt like. That he was missing something obvious and no one wanted to point it out.

"You had an altercation with Lieutenant Simmons on December 20, correct? What was the nature of your disagreement?"

Alex jerked upright. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Please answer the question."

Alex clenched his jaw. "That has nothing to do with the invasion." The nightmare device had been returned to PX2-228 and everyone had returned to normal. It had all been shoved under the rug quite neatly.

"But there was reason for Lieutenant Simmons to either fear physical retaliation from you or—"

"Physical retaliation!" Alex spluttered. "Is this really what—What are we trying to get at here? Because this." He waved a frustrated hand at the room. "This is not what I was expecting."

Eagle just fixed him with a steely gaze. "And what, Mr. Rider, were you expecting? This is an inquiry. And you and Lieutenant Simmons are at the center of it."

That was it.

No more.

"I'm done." He shoved to his feet and all but stomped toward the doors. "I don't have the energy for this right now." And he would march himself right back to the infirmary if he had to, just to get out.

The doors shuddered under his touch, but let way after a moment. Alex glanced back over his shoulder and saw the faintest hint of a smirk on Sheppard's face. As if he had been expecting this all along.

He half expected someone to try to force him to stay, but Braxton just followed him out into the hall. The doors slid closed and Alex slumped against the wall.

What the hell.

"What the hell is going on?" He muttered, before pushing off the wall and walking down to the nearest transporter. It was going to take a couple of tries to get back to his quarters, but he was ready to hole himself up and try to make sense of what was going on. And he knew how to hack the system now, so… He side-eyed Braxton. "Don't suppose you'd be willing to share with the class?"

Braxton just gave him a blank stare.

"Right…" He pressed the button to the first sector he recognized. It was a start at least.

It wasn't the smoking gun that Alex had expected to find.

If anything, it had just opened up more questions – namely why on earth they had decided to put Greg at the center of their investigation.

It hadn't been too difficult to find the secret server – through a couple discretely placed clues no doubt left by Rodney – a task made much easier by his newfound knowledge of Ancient. That, and the back door to the server had been left all but swinging in the breeze. A giant exclamation point for anyone to find.

On it were the dregs of evidence that could be used to convict Greg of his supposed crimes. Whatever those actually were. Because although the level of detail maintained on this server was… creepy, there wasn't any sign that Alex had found that it was used for nefarious purposes.

Yet Daniels seemed to believe that Greg was responsible and that it pointed to him being… a what? A Trust operative? Never mind the fact that there had been multiple opportunities where Greg could have campaigned for him to be returned to earth. Never mind the fact that there had been multiple opportunities where Greg himself could've incapacitated Alex just through the sheer magic of unpredictability. Alex would've never seen it coming.

But it couldn't have been Greg. He had never tried to pressure or coerce Alex into doing anything. Had always been a reassuring presence that was willing to help him out when needed. He wasn't some… chronicler that had stalked every point of Alex's life on Atlantis.

Yet here on this server, there were copies of secured transmissions. Detailed documentation of Alex's presence all across the city – detailed even before he had had the sub cue. Some of it, detail that Alex doubted could've been compiled by Greg alone – he simply hadn't been present 100% of the time.

No one had.

The latest upload had included details and tracking of his hunt through the city. And though there were points missing when he had gone invisible, losing the subcue, whoever this was had carefully catalogued every single incapacitation and kill he had made in those few hours. Every time he had reappeared, noted. It was a smoking gun if anyone ever wanted to try to set him up as a deranged teenager that was ready to go on killing sprees. He had been alone for the majority of it.

So, unless Alex had been making this in his sleep…

Alex rolled over on his bed, throwing the data pad down for the umpteenth time, and smothered his face in his pillow.

He needed to talk to Greg.

And that was going to be the last thing that anyone would let him do. Alex had no doubt that Braxton was positioned with him to block that from happening. There would be no repeat mishaps with wandering the city.

That Sheppard hadn't truly warned him – just a vague sense that something was going to go wrong – didn't sit well with him either. He should've warned him better about what he had been walking in to.

To keep from contaminating the story.

But surely, anyone could have told him anything at any time. Nothing had stopped them from telling him everything while he had still been in the infirmary. They could've started making a plan. Because there was no way Greg was actually involved in this.

Alex refused to believe that the one person he implicitly trusted in the city had turned their back on him all along.

It simply wasn't possible.

If it weren't so stalker-ish, it wouldn't seem quite so creepy. The details of his movements – going so far as to document even the hours he had wandered with Sheppard through the city before getting cleared for gate travel – were enough to almost recreate his past three months, minute for minute. Hours that even he had no doubt forgotten the details of.

Whoever it was, even knew that he had been used as the training dummy for the mock invasion weeks earlier. That was a level of detail that only Sheppard and a few other key personnel in the city had known about. Sure, that part of his cover might be blown now, but it hadn't been then.

It couldn't be Greg. There was just no way.

Alex dropped his legs off the couch, before getting up to start pacing, arm tucked against his chest.

So, what, it was a set up?

Someone looking for information to use against Alex? Against Greg, if Daniels was taking it hook, line, and sinker? Someone else?

What was the ultimate goal though?

The information seemed innocuous – except for the top-secret bits – sitting there on a previously secured server that no one knew about. And while he couldn't exactly sit there and go through all of it… there had to be some sort of hint as to what purpose was.

None of it made sense and it seemed that the powers that be had already made up their minds.

Right.

So, he needed someone on his side. And frustrated though Sheppard had looked, help clearly wasn't going to come from that quarter.

Alex spun on his heel and headed over to the door. It opened on his command, to Braxton's confusion. "I'm not being kept prisoner here, right? You just have to follow me around?" He wasn't going to mention that Dr. Beckett had recommended he go rest. There wasn't time for rest.

Braxton shook his head slowly. "No…"

"Great." Alex darted back and grabbed his datapad, before stepping through the door. "I've got people to see." And well, if Braxton thought he was seeing sense after storming out of the interrogation room, those weren't the people he was going to see.

A/N: Thoughts? Bets? Who is Alex hunting down now? And what exactly is the purpose of this server? And who is the owner? So many questions…