Challenge
A/N This is just a oneshot that I was going to put on my secondary account (duskASIS) but since I only created the account today, I couldn't publish it yet and I was too impatient to wait. So, I published it under this account instead. I wrote this in about twenty minutes and it was just an idea that popped randomly into my head, so it's probably not of great quality. I'd prefer constructive criticism to flames please!
The challenge wasn't surviving the bullets, lethal thugs or doomsday plots. No, the true challenge was surviving the numbness and yourself once it was all over.
Not that he was suicidal of course. Alex was no fool; he knew that suicide was not an option. Death didn't scare or bother him like it should've, but that didn't mean He wanted to end it all and he especially didn't want to imagine the pain that that undeniably selfish act would cause Jack. No, he wouldn't do that, even if he'd wanted to. Which he didn't.
The problem was that, he just didn't, no couldn't care. Like when he cut his hand one night making himself something to eat. It hurt, but he didn't move, he just stood watching the blood trickle relentlessly from the cut and down his wrist. Jack had yelled at him when she'd come in and seen him. That had irked him a little, he didn't like it when he upset Jack, but even that hadn't been enough to shake the numb sort of disregard that gripped him. Once it'd slipped away the next morning though, he'd felt terrible when he remembered and saw the expression on Jack's face.
Alex did his best to care after that. It was hard, sometimes he just wanted to stand and wait until it was over and not do anything, but he knew that if he started doing that, it would only be a downward spiral. Still, hard as he tried, it got worse.
Alex was staring out the window of his English classroom when the teacher declared he was collecting the previous night's homework. Alex dimly registered that he hadn't done it, he'd simply forgotten. Homework wasn't the only thing slipping from his memory lately either. The fact that he hadn't done his homework should've triggered the normal response of annoyance and slight panic that just about every school student goes through, but it didn't. He just didn't care.
"Mr. Rider, can I have your homework please?" His teacher loomed over him, a bundle of papers in one hand whilst the other was held out expectantly. For a second, Alex just studied the outstretched hand, thinking suddenly of how many hands had helped and how many had hurt.
"Mr. Rider?" The teacher was growing impatient, so Alex reluctantly pulled himself from his reverie and looked up at the teacher.
"I haven't done it." He said, a little surprised by how flat his voice sounded. He may as well have programmed a computer to say the words for him.
All around, his classmates whispered and sniggered. Alex was a popular subject of discussion and his newest stunt of not doing his homework would doubtlessly be analysed. It used to irk Alex that he couldn't do anything in school without being second guessed. It barely registered as an annoyance now.
"Pardon?" The teacher asked, looking annoyed. Alex shrugged.
"I haven't done it." He repeated, a little louder. He was starting to get a little irritated by the way the teacher was glaring at him. "Sorry?"
The teacher picked up on the insincerity of the apology. His lips became a thin line and Alex knew straight away that the man was not impressed. Alex gave a weary sigh.
"Mr. Rider, are you aware that you have not completed 40 of this year's coursework?" The teacher asked nastily, "If you continue in this manner, you will not pass this class and will have to repeat! I hope you realize the consequences of not doing last night's homework when it's put into such a perspective!"
The man paused, obviously waiting for a response. Alex just looked down at the desk and shrugged. The teacher glared at him.
"Don't you care about what I said?" The teacher demanded.
The words were out of Alex's mouth before he could stop them.
"Not really." He muttered. Straight away, he regretted his words. Awkwardly, he just went back to staring at his desk. The classroom had gone silent.
The teacher seemed taken aback for a minute. Then, he resumed the attack.
"Then what," The man asked dangerously, "Do you care about hmm?"
Alex just shrugged. The teacher narrowed his eyes.
"What was that Mr. Rider? Speak up please?"
Alex muttered something under his breath. The teacher slammed his pile of papers down on Alex's desk.
"Mr. Rider if you are going to insist on continuing this behaviour I will-"
"I DON'T KNOW, OKAY?!" Alex suddenly shouted, fed up. He pushed himself up to his feet and his chair ended up crashing to the ground. "I DON'T KNOW WHAT I CARE ABOUT BUT IT SURE AS HELL ISNT SOME STUPID PAPER ON MY FAVOURITE HOLIDAY MEMORY!"
If he'd thought it had been silent before, he was wrong. A crypt would have been noisier then the classroom in the aftermath of his outburst. Alex stood in the middle of the room, suddenly aware of all the stunned expressions and eyes on him. He suddenly knew that he couldn't stay here, not right now anymore.
Cheeks burning, Alex walked to the door. No one made a sound and no one tried to stop him. At one point, his teacher looked like he was going to say something, but Alex stopped him.
"Don't, alright?" The teen ordered him wearily, "Just leave me alone. That's what I care about: being left alone for once."
Then, Alex yanked the classroom door open and strode into the corridor. A few moments later, he was out of the school altogether.
Walking along through the city, Alex knew he'd really done it this time. He'd be lucky if he didn't get expelled for yelling at a teacher and then ditching school altogether. Even if they didn't try to punish him, Alex knew he'd be labelled a 'special needs child' and be subjected to patronising behaviour from the teachers, frequent visits to the school counsellor and as for the other kids… Alex knew his classmates would be sure to hand out the worst punishment of all. He'd never fit in again now.
It didn't bother him though. He was well and truly numb, just wondering along in his own bubble. Alex didn't feel like he was capable of reacting to anything so he figured he'd just keep on walking until he could feel something. He wondered how far he'd have to walk.
Alex walked past a chemist, and he suddenly thought of Jack. The school would have called her by now; she'd be frantic with worry. Maybe he should buy some flowers or some chocolates for her, to say sorry.
Alex considered it for a minute; it seemed like a good idea. He had a few Euros in his pocket; he'd probably be able to buy something nice for her.
There was an electronic doorbell that chimed as Alex walked into the shop. The woman behind the front counter looked up and regarded him suspiciously. Alex was still wearing his school uniform; he figured she knew he was ditching school. He also figured that if she wanted to be suspicious, that was her problem, not his. He wasn't going to steal anything.
As Alex idly decided on what box of chocolates to buy, the doorbell chimed again. Two men walked in, Alex instinctively gave them the once-over. His heart began to race.
They were both fit and wearing cargo pants and hooded sweatshirts. They were silent, and worst of all, they wore balaclavas and carried guns.
"Alright bitch, open the till!" One of them demanded, levelling his gun at the lady behind the front counter. She gave a terrified yelp and put her hands up pathetically.
"I c-can't!" She sobbed. The man advanced on her and Alex heard them start an argument.
"Why the hell not?!" The man snarled, brandishing his gun, "You better have a damn good reason, unless you want a bullet in your head!"
The woman was quickly approaching hysterical.
"The r-r-register w-won't let me o-open it unless s-something's b-been purchased!" She stuttered.
The man glanced over at his partner who'd closed the shop's door and pulled the curtain on it down.
"Alright, you heard her, grab somethin' of the shelves!"
The other man took a box of tissues off the shelf and tossed them at the lady.
"Hurry it up!" He yelled.
Shaking, the woman tried scanning the box. It wouldn't register with the scanner. The men were advancing on her and she frantically tried again and again.
"Hurry up!" One of the men howled, "The police could be here any fucking minute!"
The woman's face was covered in tears.
"I-I'm t-trying!" She wailed, "It's not working!"
One of the men, Alex thought he was the one who'd originally demanded she open the till suddenly flicked safety off his gun.
"Screw this, I say we just blow her head off and then try somewhere else."
The woman was screeching her head off and then Alex, who'd been crouching behind one of the shelves the entire time, stood.
"Don't!" He said. It wasn't a shout or even very loud, but it definitely got the thieves' attention. They whirled around to face him and in that minute, the woman dived beneath the counter and fumbled for the silent alarm button that would alert the police to the robbery. However, in her haste, she pressed the shop's burglar alarm, which was not silent. The shrill scream of the alarm filled the shop.
One of the men snarled a curse and before Alex could so much as blink, shot the woman in the face. Her body fell to the ground, vanishing from sight behind the counter.
Alex's eyes widened and he took a step forward, feeling sickened. The other man rounded on him, gun level with his head.
Alex froze. He didn't feel afraid, that numbness was enveloping him again. He suddenly remembered all the time's he'd had guns pointed at him, all the times he'd been hurt and afraid. Alex suddenly felt very small and useless. His inability to feel, to react was going to kill him and he still couldn't care.
But the man didn't shoot him. Amidst the alarm and chaos, the man just studied Alex, seeming to see something in the teen's eyes. The man took a couple of steps forwards, but Alex didn't cringe or back up. He just watched what could be his death approach him, with a sort of detached interest.
"You're not afraid." The burglar said. It wasn't a question, but Alex answered anyway.
"No."
The man shook his head slowly.
"You should be. Why aren't you?"
Alex smiled humourlessly.
"I don't feel anything anymore, I'm numb." He wasn't sure why he said that or why he was talking to this man. He just knew that he couldn't stop himself either.
The man opened his mouth to say something, but his partner interrupted.
"Jesus man, what are you doing?! The police are coming man, just kill the kid and let's piss off!" The man was edgy and sounded younger, in contrast to his partner who was completely calm.
"No, leave the kid alone!" The man snapped back at his partner.
The younger man looked disgusted.
"He'll be a witness dumbass!"
And then, what Alex considered the inevitable happened. The younger man shot him. The other man saw his partner aim and tried to pull Alex aside, but the bullet still struck him, slicing into his upper arm, almost in the shoulder.
Alex finally felt something, and it was pain. He screamed and he knew he was going to black out. There was blood everywhere, he knew it was his. He collapsed on the floor and felt like he was dying. Suddenly, he was scared of dying, it bothered him. Living suddenly mattered to him, he wanted to play soccer again, he wanted to talk to Jack again.
The two thieves were arguing over his head.
"Jesus! What'd you do that for!"
"He's gonna be a witness, I have to-"
There was the sound of metal hitting flesh. The younger man gave a howl of pain and the older thief was speaking again.
"No! You're not touching him! Now we need to get the fuck out of here, move it before the police have to investigate a double homicide!"
There was the sound of the door's lock being undone and footsteps pounding the pavement. Screams came from the street.
Alex just lay curled on the ground covered in his own blood, crying and screaming unashamedly. He could feel consciousness fading, but the pain was still there. It was like white-hot and smothering him. It wouldn't let go and for some reason, Alex felt like for the first time in weeks he was truly alive.
Suddenly there was a voice in his ear. Alex could vaguely smell aftershave.
"Don't be numb, it kills you Alex." The older thief said. And then, Alex heard footsteps again and knew that the man was gone.
Alex heard sirens. Then, just before he passed out, Alex wondered how the thief had known his name.
Alex Rider was no longer numb.