Hello! After literally hours of trying to figure out how the frick frack to transport this from ao3 to here, I've finally figured it out.

Disclaimer: I am but a young American who is bad at trying to sound not American. I'm sorry. I'm doing my best, really.

I wrote this one in one go like two hours after I was supposed to go to sleep and since I am literally a loser I haven't gotten around to editing it yet so I literally have no idea if there are mistakes. I'll probably come back after I finish the rest of this series.

Ben wants to know who in the world possibly thought that it was a good idea to make him responsible for a traumatized fifteen-year-old.

Technically, he supposes, it's partially his fault. He had been involved in the discussion about what to do with the boy who used to be normal and happy. He had objected strongly to the idea of sending Alex to an orphanage or foster home or anything of the sort. He had said he could watch over Alex temporarily, although he hadn't thought anyone would actually say yes. And now he's the one who has to try to figure out what to do with a fifteen-year-old boy who's been through more than most could even imagine.

Temporarily. That's what he had suggested, and that's what Mrs. Jones had (somehow) agreed to. But they had been saying temporarily for almost a month and half now.

Ben wouldn't care all that much if he didn't feel so helpless.

Alex doesn't do much, which is simultaneously easy and hard for Ben to deal with. Alex is fifteen, fairly attractive, and good in school. He should be playing football and going to movies and having fun, being happy-never recruited by MI6 to begin with. Inwardly, Ben curses Blunt and all the others who thought that using a fourteen-year-old was a good idea. Alex had been destroyed, all chances at a happy life annihilated by the memories alone.

Ben hadn't really grasped the severity of the shock Alex had had until he had seen him the day he showed up at Ben's apartment, exhausted and unenthusiastic and somehow not Alex. The boy had no one left, and he knew it. He had been dumped in some random agent's lap and left to act as though his entire world hadn't been crushed.

Ben had gently pulled him into a hug and let the boy cry.

And now he's here, sitting at his kitchen table at two-forty-three in the morning and unable to sleep. It's ridiculous, really. He's Ben freaking Daniels. He can fall asleep whenever, wherever. But Alex, Alex's face and very bearing, keeps haunting him. No fifteen-year-old should look that broken. No fifteen-year-old should have seen that much pain. No fifteen-year-old-no person at all-should wake screaming several times a night because his past is too dark and terrible to stay in the past. What kind of monsters are MI6, anyway, causing a teenager that much stress and horror? They're supposed to be the good guys, Ben thinks, but they really aren't doing a very spectacular job of that.

Ben sets his whiskey back on the table and sighs. He should go check on Alex, make sure he's as okay as he can be. Maybe sit for a little while, if he's had another nightmare and is awake.

Ben stands carefully and begins to walk down the hallway, making no noise. If Alex is asleep, he doesn't want to wake him up. Poor kid gets little enough as it is. Ben quietly enters the room.

Alex is curled up under the covers, and Ben can tell he's already woken once or twice, but for the moment he's breathing deeply and evenly. He looks so young, so small, and Ben feels a fresh pang of pity and sorrow.

"You never deserved any of this, you know," he whispers somewhat awkwardly, certain he's not speaking loud enough to wake Alex up. "You deserved to be normal. And happy. Not caught up in this nightmare. Not reduced to this.

"You're brave, Alex, I hope you know that. Most wouldn't be functioning at all, probably wouldn't have even survived what you have. You were great. A great spy.

"But you should never have had to have been a great spy. At least not until you were older. I am so sorry, Alex. I'm so sorry you had to deal with all of this.

"I just want you to know that I care about you. Others care about you. If you ever decide to go back to your normal life, we'll all support you. We'll all watch out for you, Alex.

"Because you're important. To me. And to the world."

Ben gently brushes Alex's hair out of his face and stands, stretching. Sleep sounds like a good idea. He should at least try.

As Ben leaves the room, Alex slowly turns over, silent tears running down his face.

Maybe he does have a reason to keep going.