Close Protection - Chapter 6 Part 2/2

[ara]

Title: Close Protection, of a Sort - Chapter Six: The End of a Day, Part 2/2
Fandom: Alex Rider
Pairing: Alex/Sabina sorta
Summary: Alex thinks he's done with espionage, but SCORPIA thinks otherwise. They target Alex and drag others in too. Now he's going to train with the SAS for his 'protection' so needless to say things look rough. Oh, and his class is coming too.
Rating: PG-13
Warning(s): Language, acute angst, violence I suppose

 

~Close Protection, of a Sort~
Chapter Six: The End of a Day, Part 2/2

Close to thirty minutes later, he stepped out of the shower. He dried off quickly, not wanting to linger on the off chance someone might happen to wander in. He was just stepping into his fatigue pants when he happened to glance up at the bathroom's lone mirror. He abruptly went still, staring at his reflection.

He was a mess, freshly formed bruises from the recent fight layering on top of faded ones from his last assignment, mixing with his many scars in various states of healing. He looked pathetic, just 14 with his body already marred. He felt disgust settle deep in his stomach looking at his battered reflection.

This is what his 'job' had done to him. Less than a year ago he had been just like any of his friends, a few scrapes here and there.

Now, he couldn't even take off his shirt with out the stares, and the whispers – of concern, sympathy, and revulsion. This is what MI6 had done to him.

They had taken him, forced him into this living hell by threatening to take away the only person he had left. He had done what they wanted, and this is what he got in return – a collection of scars, and a life that was just a series of continuous lies.

In time, the bruises would fade, and most of the scars would heal. But Alex knew that he would never really be healed again. He'd lived too long with pain. Without it, he wouldn't know who he was any more. (iv) Blunt had been right when he had said that Alex would never be able to walk away.

And that's what made this all the worse. Not only had MI6 taken control of his body, but they had also corrupted his mind. The scars he had on his body were not his only scars, or even his biggest problems. Today had shown that.

His hands gripped the sink in anger, in frustration, and in a repressed grief that threatened to overwhelm him. Slowly he raised his head to look his reflection in the eyes. His face looked old and tired, hardened and sharpened by life. His eyes stared back at him, haunted, filled with memories of things no child should have ever seen. He knew, now, what Jack meant when she said his work had make him look older.

This was what working for MI6 was about – it was about being hurt and alone, and looking in the mirror and hating what you saw. And he did.

Shakily, Alex forced himself to look away, swallowing back his emotions. He finished putting on his uniform slowly, deliberately. He turned and left, never once glancing back at the mirror.

---

Alex was just about to walk into the mess when Fox stopped him. Hearing the called “Rider,” Alex turned around to face him.

Fox led him away a short distance (out of hearing range of anyone coming out of the mess), then turned to scrutinize Alex.

Alex grew uncomfortable under the unwavering inspection. “Yes?” he asked, more than a little apprehensive.

“What're you going to say about that bruise?” Fox asked.

Alex frowned. “What bruise?” he asked, confused.

“That beauty there,” Fox said, reaching out a finger and gently pressing on the side of Alex's cheek.

Alex winced. “Ah, that bruise.”

Now it was Fox's turn to frown. “You didn't realize you were hurt?” he asked, sounding concerned.

Alex shrugged. “I guess I just... forgot.”

Fox's frown deepened, but he seemed to decide to let go whatever it was that was bothering him. Instead, he looked at Alex expectantly. “So? What are you going to tell your friends happened?”

“Well, I'll just say, uh...” Alex trailed off, thinking of an excuse that was at least half-ways decent.

Fox raised a brow. “What, the great Alex Rider can't come up with a simple deception?” he teased gently. “My, my, how did you survive this long?”

Alex sent him an annoyed look, responding tartly, “Most of my assignments don't include successfully bullshitting my closest friends.” Just my real life, he added mentally.

Fox sent him a mock-reproving look. “Now, now, Cub, a good spy should always be able to lie his way out of anything.”

Alex sighed, frustrated. “Look, if it's so easy, you come up with something! I'm sorry I don't like lying to the few friends I have left!”

“Woah,” Fox said holding up his hands to appease him. “Easy. I'm just messing with you.”

“I noticed,” Alex muttered darkly.

Fox ignored the interruption. “You know, you could always stick to something easy, like you tripped and hit something.”

“I…tripped?” Alex repeated, disbelieving.

“Yeah...and you hit a door. No wait – better yet, a door knob,” Fox said cheerfully, totally missing the problem.

“I tripped and hit a door knob?” Alex said a bit derisively. “Well that's a bit, I don't know…lame.”

Fox rolled his eyes. “Cub, you're an invalid, not an action hero.”

Alex frowned, unconvinced. “Yeah, but...do you think they'll actually believe that?”

Fox shrugged. “If you deliver it right,” he said, cocking his head to the side in thought. “Make it seem like you're embarrassed and beating yourself up over it, and say it in a not completely serious way. After all, it'd be bloody hilarious if you did do that.” He paused for a moment, grinning at Alex's scowl. “See, the door knob adds a nice touch, cause it's specific enough to make it more realistic, without over complicating the lie.”

“Wow,” Alex said after a moment's pause. “That was actually semi-impressive.”

Fox grinned and executed a bow with an exaggerated flourish. “I'm glad all that MI6 training came in handy after all.”

Alex snorted. “You had to be trained by MI6 to come up with that?” he scoffed.

Fox looked affronted. “Hey, at least I came up with something, unlike a certain underage super-spy. Besides, where did you pick up your awesome spy skills?”

Alex suddenly turned serious. “My uncle,” he said quietly.

“Oh,” Fox said softly, clearly regretting bringing it up.

“Yeah,“ Alex said. “So...” he continued trying to ease a bit of the tension that had appeared.

Fox suddenly looked a bit awkward. “Listen, Cub, the others told me what happened during the combat session.”

Alex inwardly cringed. Why the hell did this have to come up now?

“I was just wondering what happened?” Fox asked cautiously, no doubt seeing Alex's face darken.

Alex sighed, faced with another dilemma: what to tell Fox. He trusted Fox more than the others, but he really, really did not want to talk about it. Fox's good opinion meant a lot to him. But it was more than that.

Deep down, he didn't want to talk about it because he was afraid that something was very wrong with him. He decided that going on the offensive was his best option for the moment.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked, guarded.

Fox sighed. “Look, Cub: I've seen you fight before, in Bangkok, and I know you've done all those things for MI6. There's no way you panic every time you get in a fight, and I'm sure all of the fights on your assignments are way more stressful and terrifying than the one today – I know the one in Bangkok was. So for you to have a panic attack in a practice fight – something's definitely not right. And I've rather been elected to be the one to keep an eye on you, since I'm the only one who knows you at all, really.”

“Oh,” Alex said. A sudden thought occurred to him. “Did the others put you up to this?” he demanded. It didn't really bother him – he just wanted to stall for time.

Fox grinned ruefully. “Wolf and Eagle wanted me to talk to you,” he admitted. “For the record though, Snake thought we should leave you alone until you actually wanted to talk about it, since until then you'd probably just give up shit.”

“Smart man, Snake,” Alex muttered.

Fox ignored that. “But I'm not asking because of them. I’m asking because if something's going on that could affect you and your training, I need to know.” He finished and waited for Alex's response.

Alex was caught up in his mental deliberations. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to tell just Fox.

Sometimes, it felt nice to confide in people, and he did trust the man. He could always extract a promise from him similar to the bullet wound one…his mind was made up.

“It wasn't the actual fight,” he said.

Fox started. “What?”

“What set me off – it wasn't the actual fight,” Alex clarified.

“What did then?” Fox asked confused.

Alex swallowed nervously. This was the hard part. “I kept...having these flashbacks to other fights – real ones, I mean. Like a blow would remind me of another scenario and then suddenly it'd be like I was there again. I kept going in and out of the real fight. Some of the flashbacks, well, they were pretty bad.”

Fox frowned, and reached out to touch Alex's arm reassuringly. “So the bad memories caused you to panic?” he asked.

“Well, no, not really,” Alex said, frustrated. How the hell was he supposed to explain this. “It was...well, I just, I kept losing control. I never lose control, ever, no matter what. That's how I make it out of all those sticky situations. I don't panic and I don't stop thinking.”

He swallowed again. Now came the hard part…harder, anyhow.

“But with the flashbacks, I kept going in and out. I couldn't stay focused, and I was barely holding out. The others were closing in on me, and I couldn't even keep a hold of my mind. I guess I just...panicked.” Alex looked at the ground, not really wanting to see Fox's reaction.

“I see,” Alex heard the man say. It didn't sound disgusted or incredulous, just concerned. Slowly Alex looked up at him.

Fox was frowning and appeared to be thinking. “Why do you think it started happening?” he asked, after a moment.

Alex sighed. “I don't know,” he said honestly. “The whole fight...it was just off for me. I'm not used to not fighting for real, and to practice fight, it was just odd. I think maybe the part of my mind that's used to dealing with the typical life or death situations was trying to convince the rest of me that the fight was for real. I don't know...”

Fox's frown deepened. “Cub, that...doesn't sound healthy,” he said slowly. “Maybe you should see someone who knows about mental issues.”

“No!” Alex replied, immediately and forcefully.

“Cub,” Fox began warningly.

“Look, I just want to try to deal with this by myself first,” Alex interrupted. “It might've just been a weird, one-time thing. Please don't tell anyone?”

Fox sighed loudly. “Alex, I'm not comfortable keeping things from my unit. And anyways, you know that something's wrong and that you really should get help.”

Alex looked away. He did know.

“Look, Cub, I've been meaning to talk about to you about your bullet wound anyway. I'm really not comfortable not telling Snake. What if something does happen?” Fox said. Seeing Alex's hurt look, he continued. “I know it's hard for you to tell people these kind of things, and I know that you don't really trust them, but I don't want to just keep lying to them either. I've had to do that enough while working for MI6. And this isn't good for you – you need help. So I've decided, I'm going to give you a deadline by which you have to tell Snake about the bullet wound, and about this.”

Alex glared. So Fox was going back on his promise? He sighed. He couldn't really blame him, though. He had good points, and it really was unfair to Fox to ask him to lie to men who were as close to him as brothers. Not that he was happy about this, mind you, but rather, he was resigned.

“How long?” he finally asked.

“A week,” Fox said.

“Two!” Alex said determinedly.

Fox glared at him, then sighed. “Fine. Two weeks, but you'd better tell him by then, or else I will.”

Alex nodded. With any luck he'd be out of here by then, and the issue would be a moot point.

Fox sighed again. “Alright. You'd better go to dinner now, before you miss all of it.”

Alex nodded and turned to walk off back towards the mess. Well, that was just another wonderful encounter to add to the day. Sighing in resignation, he walked on.

---

As was becoming commonplace, Alex was the last to get to dinner. He grabbed his food and plopped down next to his friends. They greeted him, though it was much more subdued than before. It appeared the exhaustion of SAS training was setting in.

Emma, across from him, frowned. “What happened?” she asked, reaching up to touch her own cheek.

Alex put on his best scowl. “I tripped,” he grumbled.

“What?” Nick asked, looking slightly more alive. “You tripped? How'd you get the bruise on your face?”

Alex sighed. “Well, I happened to be walking towards a door at the time, see.”

“So?” Tom prompted, looking like he was enjoying the story, though the amused look he sent Alex said that he was buying none of it.

“Well, I kinda...hit the door knob on the way down,” he explained.

His four friends looked at him in silence for a moment. Then they burst out laughing.

“You tripped and hit your face on a doorknob?” Emma gasped out between giggles. “That takes skill.”

Nick shook is head. “That, my friend, qualifies as 'epic fail',” he laughed.

“Thanks a lot,” he said sarcastically, though he couldn't help but smile. “Some mates you are…”

“You know, that's almost as good as the time Mr. Taylor broke his leg falling up the stairs,” Josh commented, chuckling.

Alex sent him an 'oh thanks' look, to which his friend just grinned.

“Wow,” Tom said, as they began to calm down again. “That really is quite spectacular.”

“And by spectacular, he means special. And I don't mean unique,” Nick added.

Alex rolled his eyes. “Right, so if we're all done laughing at Alex's pain now,” he said mock-crossly.

“Well, what else do we have to laugh at in this hellish camp?” Nick asked, switching to a more morbid state. “Seriously, it was terrible. Are they trying to kill us or what?”

“I'm sure if they were trying to kill you, you'd already be dead,” Alex said, not all together too comforting.

“I think they're just prolonging it because they're sadistic,” Tom groaned.

Alex couldn't really argue with that. He'd wondered himself for quite awhile at the questionable tendencies of the Regiment.

As Alex had gotten there quite late, every one else was finished at this point. He ate hurriedly, then took his tray up. Almost as soon as he was reseated, the sergeant came in to address them.

“Right, listen up. I was told you all received a packet of work from your school before you left to come here.” There were a few murmurs of agreement. “After dinner every day, you'll have a block of time in here to work on it. If you don't know something, ask one of your little friends. It's expected that when you return to school it will be completed, so I suggest you take this seriously. Units will rotate monitoring it, D-unit starts today. Is that clear?” There was a chorus of “Yes Sir”s and the Sergeant turned and stormed out, leaving silence in his wake. Outside, they could hear him yelling at the selection candidates he had momentarily abandoned there.

D-unit walked to the front of the room. Their leader, Tiger, stepped forward to talk. “You have five minutes to get your materials and be back here,” he ordered. “Go.”

There was the sound of scraping benches as the students stood and rushed out to do as they were bid. Everyone was exhausted, and no one wanted to cross Tiger, who just had a foreboding look about him.

Alex went with the crowd to the barracks and quickly located the stuff he needed, returning with his friends to the mess.

“Brilliant,” Nick grumbled. “Not only do we have to be physically abused, but now we have to do school work too.”

When they arrived back in the mess, all the men except for D-unit had cleared out. Alex and his friends staked out a corner, and set themselves up.

Quickly, Alex flipped the pile of work. Mentally he groaned. There was so much to do. Sighing, he picked up the first packet of maths work. Most unhappily, he set to work, as students around him did the same.

A while later, he looked up. He was actually quite surprised at his classmate's actions. Most of them were actually working. Of course, not everyone was, but even those who weren't were being relatively quiet about it. He looked around at his peers, and the answer became readily apparent. They were absolutely exhausted. No one had the energy to fool around.

Reluctantly, he returned back to his own work, starting in on a bit of English. He made a face. Poetry should go to hell.

---

A few hours later, Tiger stood up and announced that the study period was over and that they were to return to their barracks. “I recommend you sleep,” the man said, “but I really don't give a shit what you do. Just know that tiredness will not be tolerated tomorrow.” The threat was not wasted on the students, and wearily they rose to head off to bed.

---

Back in the barracks, Alex changed into his nightwear, and slipped into bed, calling out a good night. He really was tired and his bruises and fatigued muscles were really beginning to hurt. He was glad to be finally able to sleep. Not having the energy for doing much thinking, he closed his eyes and almost immediately fell asleep.

---

(i) If you don't understand, go read some fics about Danny and Rusty in the Ocean's 11 section.

(ii) If this doesn't sound familiar, I highly recommend finding the MTV Movie Awards' spoof of the Matrix Reloaded...it is amazing :D

(iii) A book about the SAS, by Andy McNab. I haven't actually read it. I got Immediate Action instead, because that has their training in it.

(iv) This is almost a direct quote from Ender's Game. Something about it just seemed profoundly true. And I so call dibs on writing a story about Alex reading Ender's Game.