I do not own Alex Rider
Written as part of Yuletide 2009
For Morgan muffle
Out of the Rain
Thunder boomed in the background. Icy rain flowing down the seventeen-year old's face, plastering his blond hair flat against his skull. Alex was oblivious though. Truthfully, he didn't even feel it, and even if he had, the weather fit his mood perfectly.
In front of the still figure stood a single granite stone. Jacqueline "Jack" Starbright, the inscription read. Friend, Sister, A light in the darkness. Alex had always wondered what Jack's real name was. His guardian had always been extremely secretive on that subject.
Now however, Alex wished he didn't know, because that would mean Jack was still alive. Below the epitaph was a date, a date that had come far too soon in Alex's opinion. She hadn't even made it to thirty. However, the teenage spy knew well, you're never too young to die.
A pair of haunted brown eyes clenched shut, the teen desperately trying to summon up an image of the woman he had known. Jack cooking one of her patented ten-minute meals, a crooked grin on her boyish features. Jack laughing at a lame joke. Jack threatening to brain an MI6 agent with a frying pan.
It didn't work. All he could see was his sister-in-all-but-blood's body lifelessly sprawled across the dining room floor. Her hair stained an even darker red, wet with her own blood. And carved into her exposed flesh, that cursed symbol. Alex could almost hear the damning words. Scorpia doesn't forgive, Scorpia doesn't forget.
Part of the teen blamed himself. But at the same time, Alex knew he wasn't the only one responsible for Jack's death. Scorpia was the one who had sent the assassin, and if it weren't for MI6, he would have never even heard of the terrorist organization. The organization they were supposed to be protecting him from.
The spy snorted. Oh yeah, great job Blunt. Though by now he should have known MI6's promises weren't worth jack shit. If the man told him the sky was blue, Alex would make a point of looking out the nearest window. He wished with all his might that he had told the man to fuck himself that day almost three years ago.
Sure, life in the orphanage probably would have sucked, though undoubtedly not as bad as being shot at. Jack would have been deported true, but at least she would still be alive. His nails dug into the palms of his hands so hard they started to bleed. Damn them! Damn them all! Alex was so absorbed in his thoughts; he didn't even hear the concerned voice calling his name.
"Alex!" a strong hand spun the boy around. Fox had to admit he was worried about the younger man. Worried enough that he had gone to Alex's house, only to find it empty. After that, he had called all Cub's friends, not that there were many of them. He had even contacted the other members of k-unit. None of them had seen Alex either. The cemetery had honestly been his last resort. After all, who hung out in graveyard's in the middle of the night? The answer to that was apparently Cub.
A pair of glassy eyes blinked up at the familiar face. "Ben," the teenage spy murmured confused. What was he doing here? He hadn't even known Jack.
Meanwhile, a deep frown had spread across the dark haired man's face. Alex had a spatial awareness bordering on the supernatural. He never should have been able to get so close without the other noticing. The fact that Cub apparently hadn't even heard his own name was even more cause for concern.
Ben raised one hand to the younger man's face, only to pull it back with a hiss. Alex was freezing. "What do you think you are doing?" he snapped; worry giving his voice an unusual edge. "You could die out here." It was the truth. The temperature was dropping with every passing hour.
Alex just shrugged. "Who cares?" He certainly didn't. What did he have to live for anyway? His life, if you could call it that, was ruined. MI6 had seen to that. He was nothing more than a puppet to them.
Ben flinched as if struck. "I care," he whispered, the words barely audible over the sound of the rain.
The teenager stared. "You, you do." He looked painfully vulnerable at that moment. Sure, he trusted Fox to watch his back in the field, which was more than he could say for most of MI6. But that the other cared about him, Alex, as oppose to Special Agent Rider. That was a surprise.
"Yes," Ben said more firmly reaching up to wrap his hand around the younger man's bicep. "I do, which is why we are leaving. Now."
Alex stumbled slightly, but did not otherwise protest as Ben manhandled him out of the cemetery and into his vehicle. The brief ride was taken in silence, though upon their arrival, the teen frowned. "Uh Fox?" This wasn't where he lived.
"It's my place," the dark haired man answered getting out of the car. No way was he leaving Cub alone tonight. "Now come on."
Somewhat hesitantly, Alex followed, instinctively toeing off his muddy shoes as he entered the door. Jack used to yell at him all the time for not doing that when he was younger. The teen swallowed hard, blinking back tears as a new burst of grief welled up.
"The bathroom's down the hall," Ben told him shrugging off his coat. "You should get out of those clothes before you catch cold." A brief frown flashed over his face and he gave the teen a once over. "My robe should fit you alright. It's on the peg by the door."
Alex nodded in acknowledgment before making his way down the hall. An involuntary shiver made its way up his spine, his body's way of telling him that yes he did need to get warm. He felt faintly guilty about the fact he was dripping water all over the other's nice clean floor.
While Cub was changing, Ben busied himself by making hot cocoa. The younger man could undoubtedly use it, both for its warmth and the chocolate. Who knew when the younger man had last eaten? Truthfully, the dark haired man muffled a sneeze, he could use a cup as well.
Pouring the steaming liquid into the cups, the agent paused casting a furtive look over his shoulder. Slowly, as though expecting to be caught at any time, Ben pulled a container out of his cupboard. Carefully adding a little something extra to the cup on the right.
Ben made his way back to the living room, handing one of the cups to his young colleague, who was now seated on the couch. "Here."
Nodding his thanks, Alex raised the glass. "Cheers." He downed the drink, ignoring the hot burn of the liquid as it ran down his throat. A few minutes later, he blinked. Once, then twice. How odd, the blond thought to himself. Things were starting to seem a bit fuzzy.
Realization hit, and the teen turned to stare at Ben incredulously. "Y-you," he stuttered, the cup slipping from nerveless fingers to land at his feet. "You drugged it." Alex sagged in his seat, barely feeling the strong arms that wrapped around him. The last thing he saw was the other's slightly remorseful face before his eyes slid shut.
A faint sigh escaped Ben's throat as the teen's head lolled to one side to rest on his shoulder. He regretted the necessity, but Cub needed sleep . Hopefully his friend would forgive him. Carefully, he lowered the other the rest of the way, brushing a bit of stray hair out of the Alex's eyes, only to pause as he tried to stand up.
Alex's fingers had somehow become tangled in his shirt, and any attempts to free himself only caused the teenager's grip to tighten. Ben sighed again, giving into the inevitable as he lay down himself.
It seemed the blond wasn't the only one who would be sleeping on the couch tonight. "Sweet dreams Cub," the agent whispered kissing Alex gently on the forehead. Taking a moment to get comfortable, Fox closed his own eyes. It was time to go to bed.
Hope you all liked it, and please review
I did, even though I did find it to be more morbid and mushy in parts than I usually write
But the request was for a close relationship, and this is as close to slash as I get
I figure it can be read as either gen or pre-slash, depending on your comfort