AN: Ouch. Six months. Is that a record? … Okay. Anyway, the good news is that I should be updating faster now as I'm trying to finish this off quickly so I can focus on my novel, which I'm trying to get published by the end of the year. (May I just add, in my defence, I did have exams!) Another important note is that this story has now passed it's one year anniversary!

Please read and review, but more importantly, enjoy!

Alex packed his bag the next day while the others were out on a tactical exercise, Ben goodness knows where. It wasn't hard because he didn't have much stuff. Strange as it was, he felt almost sad that he was leaving. It was the first place he had been to in a while where he actually felt he had friends.

Friends.

How strange. At Brookland school, he had never quite got on with his peers – not after the Stormbreakers. But here? In the midst of an SAS camp, among hardened soldiers? They understood each other. They didn't call him names, didn't judge him for things he'd never done or even the things he had. It was refreshing.

He stuffed one last hoodie into the rucksack along with a battered copy of Oliver Twist he'd brought in case he got bored and leaned back with a sigh. As he did, he hit his knee on the bed post.

"Shit!"

Gasping in pain, he rolled the leg of his trousers up to examine it. The wound itself was rather smooth – bright red and the skin pulled taught – but all around it was a complete mess. A pulp of red and silver scars, scrunched up and twisting strangely with every movement. Alex looked away. Despite how long it had been, he still couldn't bear to looked at it. He traced a finger idly over one of the lines, following it from start to finish, unable to stop the flashback even as he felt it coming.

"Rider!"

a smoking gun

point blank range

falling

blood

screaming

falling

Falling-

"Looks like that hurts."

Ah. There was Ben.

"Yeah." Alex grimaced, rolling the material back down. "What gave you that impression?"

"Oh, I don't know," Ben said, sitting down next to Alex. "Might have been the scream of pain."

"It wasn't a scream."

"Fine. Cry of pain. Is that any better?"

Alex gave a thin smile. "Marginally."

They sat in a companionable silence, shoulder to shoulder. Ben leant down and picked up a picture that was sticking out of Alex's rucksack.

"What's this?"

"That? It's – it's just me and Jack. And Ian."

"Your uncle?"

"Yeah."

Ben studied the picture curiously. Alex was grinning at the camera, a bag slung over one shoulder as he pointedly looked away from the other two. He was tanned lightly as if they were on a holiday.

The man standing next to him, presumably Ian Rider, was wearing a suit despite them obviously being on holiday. There was a definite family resemblance. He was half frowning, half smiling as he staggered under the weight of the red head who had just leapt onto his back. Jack. She was grinning ecstatically as if she had just gotten away with something.

Ben handed the picture back to Alex who took it reluctantly.

"How long ago was that?"

"Three months before Ian died." Alex shrugged. "It was a good trip. Me and Jack went and saw the Eiffel Tower."

"What about your uncle?"

"He disappeared for two days. When he came back, he said he'd been called to a really important meeting." Alex's eyes darkened. "It didn't explain why he was limping."

Ben felt a rush of sadness. He patted Alex on the shoulder. "I'm sure he loved you."

A smile passed across the teen's face so quickly it was almost never there. "He did," he said softly. "Too much."

"What do you mean?" asked Ben hesitantly.

"He tried so hard to keep his job and his life separate," Alex said. "Sometimes I feel as if I never really knew him."

Ben swallowed. He didn't know what to say and was thankful for the normal, happy childhood he remembered.

"I could get you out of the country," he offered. "MI6 can't do anything outside of England."

Alex shook his head. "CIA uses me just as much. Even when I dropped out of space, ASIS couldn't resist. And as much as I hate to admit it, MI6 protects me. Without them, the Chinese Triad would have got me years ago – or the Snakehead, or anyone who's left of SCORPIA. I've made too many enemies, Ben. I can't go back."

"Fine." Ben held his hands up. "You win."

Alex smiled slightly and placed the photo back in his rucksack. He stood up slinging it over his shoulder, wincing as it hit his back.

"Best go wait for them," he muttered. "Bye, Ben."

Alex held out a hand, his injured one, and Ben grasped it. They shook before the elder pulled in for a hug.

"I'll come with you," Ben offered. "I've got to go back too."

Alex shrugged. A book was digging into his back painfully and at first, he couldn't think what it was. Then he remembered. Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens.

"It's your funeral," he said.

The Need To Know :: The Need To Know

Tom Harris was having a bad day. He'd woken up late for school and panicked as he got ready only to remember that it was a teacher training day. He had slumped back onto his bed, shirt half done up and a tie loose around his neck, in defeat. It had to be today all of all days that he'd forgotten to make any plans.

So it was that two hours later, he was hiding in his room with Green Day blaring loudly on his new speakers as his parent's shrieking voices found their way through the floorboards from downstairs. He checked his phones for any new texts, only to see that the last one was from Alex.

He groaned and sat down.

It was bad enough when his best friend was on missions but at least he definitely knew his friend was alive – even if it was barely so when his friend came back. This not knowing even where Alex was, what was happening to him and why this was happening to him... That brief period when Tom had thought his friend was dead had been hell. The whole school knew about it of course, and nobody would leave him alone. Either words of sympathy or snide remarks of how it was 'about time'. Ironically, the place where he could get the most peace was at home where he doubted his parents had even registered the supposed death of his best friend, they were so busy shouting at each other.

Alex had gone silent for a few days which had made Tom's old fears start up once more and at least this new text was confirmation of life. Still.

With a sigh, he picked his battered phone up.

On the way to bank, it read. Forgot to bring my bag – could you pick it up for me? Ty.

Tom read the text again. And again. What the hell? On the way to the bank – that had to mean MI6. He shivered. Forgot to bring my bag – if Alex was still going to school or was staying over, he would have assumed he meant his school bag. But Alex hadn't gone to any school for a long time now. It had to be some other type of bag... staying over... an overnight bag? Was Alex trying to send a discreet message?

You mean the bag you left here? He typed back and set his phone on the side. Alex would know what he meant and hopefully he'd reply soon.

Tom started tapping his fingers. What could MI6 possibly want with Alex now? They had made him dead, stopped him from existing. Surely they weren't going to do anything more?

His phone vibrated. He grabbed it, opening the text quickly.

Yeah, that's the one. Can't believe I forgot it after all that.

"Oh, for fu-" Tom cut off as another text came through.

Might come a pick it up later. Not sure if I'll have time.

Tom swore quietly. Everything had just clicked into place. MI6 had called Alex back in and they were going to send him on a mission. But for some reason, Alex wanted Tom to pack an overnight bag for him and maybe they'd be able to meet up.

"Shit," Tom added, just for emphasis. He shoved his phone into his pocket and stood up. Nothing else for it then – he'd just have to do as his friend had asked.

He just hoped nobody had changed the lock.

The Need To Know :: The Need To Know

Alex stood on the pavement and gazed at the bank with cold eyes. He felt almost as if he were walking towards his own execution and the large overbearing building did nothing to help the fact. Ben hesitated behind him as the anonymous black car that had driven them here slipped away.

"Alex?" he asked.

"Sorry," he muttered and walked through the doors. The receptionist didn't even look up as he walked in and he ignored her as well. He headed straight for the lifts and punched the buttons to take him up to the eighteenth floor.

"It's just a debriefing," Ben said but even he sounded unsure. Alex didn't bother answering.

The lift arrived with a small ping! and they stepped off together. Ben hesitated outside Mr Blunt's door but Alex walked straight in without knocking and sat down in the first seat. Blunt stared at him with emotionless eyes. As always, Jones sat next to him sucking a peppermint.

"Alex, it's good of you to come," Jones greeted.

"It's not like I had much choice," Alex muttered. Jones ignored him.

"Mr Daniels. Please, take a seat."

Ben did so with a side long glance at Alex. He looked strangely apprehensive and impressed. Alex wondered why.

"Why am I here?" he asked when nobody spoke.

Jones looked at Blunt before answering. "First of all, we need to ask you a few questions," she said. "And then we'd like to ask you a favour."

Alex opened his mouth to retort angrily but Blunt beat him to it.

"Humour us," he said sounding as if he himself had never humoured anyone in his life.

Alex repressed a retort and sat back, crossing his arms angrily. "What do you want to know?"

"On your mission in the Middle East, you were discovered and taken captive."

Hot blistering sun

a shout

"him!"

"Yes," he affirmed.

"You were held for three weeks and submitted under various methods of torture to divulge information about MI6, correct?"

Alex's jaw clenched. "Yes."

screaming screaming pain help please

"...in this time?"

"Pardon?" Alex asked, shaking himself into reality. His hands were clenched into fists and cutting half moon circles into his palms. Beside him, Ben leant forwards.

"Is this necessary?" the spy asked. "Alex has already told me what happened."

Blunt paid no attention to him. Jones unwrapped another peppermint hastily.

"During the time you were held captive, did you divulge any information?" the head repeated.

"No," Alex said shortly. "Not that I'm aware of."

"Are you sure?" Jones broke in tentatively. "Even the slightest detail might be important."

"Not that I'm aware of," Alex stated. He was scowling. "I can't tell you about the times when I was unconscious or delirious."

Ben winced.

Jack standing in front of him

"disappointment"

"failure"

painpainpain

fading

not real

notrealnotrealnotreal

"What did SCORPIA want to know about? Did you find out their plans?" Blunt demanded.

Alex snapped. "What do you think?" he shouted. "Do you think I just snuck out of my cell in between torture sessions to do a little bit espionage work?"

"Alex-"

"No! I did not find out their plans! I was too busy trying to stop my leg from falling off, or making sure I wouldn't lose my hand. I was too busy dying."

"And yet you're still alive," Blunt said. He was eyeing Alex like he was some sort of meat, waiting to be dissected.

"No thanks to you," Alex retorted. He wiped some sweat off his forehead. "Are we done yet?"

Jones glanced at Blunt. "Not quite."

"We'd like to ask you a favour," the grey man said. "We'd like your help."

help me pleasepleaseplease

Alex stiffened. "I'm not working for you," he said.

"It has recently come to our attention that a lot of money has been disappearing where it shouldn't. A school for special needs, St. Alberts,* receives a lot of funding from the government for its very noble cause. However it has become apparent that despite the vast amount of money and resources given to the facility, the school only sees less than half of it."

"We ran some background checks on the headmaster," Jones said. "Mr Haliday has been caught several times in his childhood for petty crimes. He also spent some time in prison for smuggling drugs. It's likely that he's the reason that the money has been disappearing."

"Hold on a minute," Ben broke in. "You can't be serious!"

"Deadly," said Blunt.

"But Alex is injured! He's only just recovered from being tortured, you can't send him out into the field, especially with his hand – and leg!"

Blunt's steely gaze caught onto Ben's. It left no room for argument. Ben slumped back into his seat.

"So – Alex has a choice in this, right?"

"Of course." Blunt smiled. His lips twisted awkwardly across his face. His facial muscles looked unused to the exercised. Alex doubted that it could look less sincere.

"You'd be going in as wheelchair user," Jones said. Her eyes flicked nervously between the child and the spy. "Your cover would be that you were paralysed from the hips down after a car accident when you were younger. Agent Daniels would be your backup and would also be your carer during the mission."

There was a short silence. Alex hadn't moved. Ben clenched his jaw but otherwise didn't move.

Blunt glanced at Alex. "What do you say?" he asked.

The teenager closed his eyes. "No."

"Alex," Jones said. "You need to-"

"No," Alex repeated. "I'm not going to do it. Not now. Jack isn't here any more. I don't have anything to lose. You can't threaten me."

"Threaten you?" Ben asked, suddenly bolt upright.

"Nothing?" Blunt asked. He arched an eyebrow. "Your house and your money belong to us now. You have nowhere to go."

"I'm not going to do it." Alex stood up. "You can't make me." He made for the door and his hand had just closed around the handle when Mr Blunt spoke again.

"People could die, Alex."

"Then send someone else."

"They might already be dying – I seem to remember you disagreed with the people who sold drugs at your school? This man is exactly the same."

Alex shook his head. "Send someone else," he repeated. "You managed perfectly well before my uncle died." He opened the door.

"If you step out of that door," Blunt said, "then you will regret it."

Alex met his gaze and held it. "I have nothing to lose."

The door slammed shut behind him.

The Need To Know :: The Need To Know

Tom jumped as a car hooted its horn on the street outside. He took a deep breath to calm himself.

The house key under the mat by the door had still been there so he'd let himself in easily but he was so nervous that he was twitching at the slightest noise. He'd already half packed a bag for Alex, including the gun he'd found stashed in the bedside table, but he had no idea what his best friend wanted an overnight bag for. He'd moved downstairs to add some food into quickly filling bag.

He jumped again as his phone started blaring loudly. He looked at the caller ID and answered instantly.

"Alex?"

"Hi," Alex answered slightly breathlessly. "Where are you?"

"In the house," Tom replied. He didn't need to specify which house. "I've started packing-"

"Good. I'll meet you there." Alex hung up.

Tom stared at the phone. He was going to see Alex. For the first time in over a month. He grinned and resumed packing.

Fifteen minutes later, the front door opened abruptly and Alex appeared in the hallway. His fair hair was tousled and his cheeks slapped red by the wind. This was not the only reason for the violent shade of red, Tom noticed as he froze. Fading cuts were a source of the problem and judging by how out of breath Alex was, he'd run most of the way.

What shocked him most was the look in his friend's eyes. It seemed to go well with the small slump of his shoulders that definitely hadn't been there before.

This wasn't the Alex that Tom knew.

For a moment they both stared at each other and then Tom coughed, feeling an urge to break the silence that had suddenly become awkward.

"You look awful," he stated.

"Thanks," said Alex and suddenly they were both grinning. "Have you finished yet?"

Tom glanced at the bag in front of him. "Almost. Why do you need it?"

"It's complicated." Alex ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want you to get involved."

"They wanted you to do another mission?"

"Yeah."

"Tell me." Tom sat down stubbornly. When Alex didn't answer, he scowled. "Don't do this to me," he said. "I thought you were dead. I'm not going through that again."

Alex sighed and his graze drifted around the room. It landed on a picture of him and Jack on the mantle piece. "I'm on the run," he said finally.

"What?"

"Not officially. I told them I wouldn't do it and they as good as threatened me."

Tom let out a low whistle. "You sure know how to pick 'em," he said.

"Trust me Tom, they picked me, not the other way round."

He shrugged. "Whatever. So where are you going?"

"I don't know yet. I was focusing on getting away." Alex went to the microwave in the kitchen, twisted the time knob once clockwise and twice anti-clockwise. A moment later, with a soft whir, the turntable rose and underneath it revealed a number of odd objects including a gameboy and some foreign coins.. Alex pulled them out and started stuffing them into his pockets.

"What the heck is that?" Tom asked, eyes wide.

"It's a microwave." Alex smiled to himself as he grabbed a couple of grenades from under the sink. "Special order from Smithers."

"Cool," Tom breathed and proceeded to examine every available appliance for more gadgetry. His eyes caught on a Harry Potter novel that lay open on the side. "Hey, what's this doing here? I didn't know you-"

Alex yelped and dived forwards, grabbing the book quickly and placing it carefully on the table.

"-read Harry Potter," Tom finished quietly.

"Sorry," Alex muttered. "There's a tranquilliser dart in the spine."

"Oh." Tom followed his friend into the hallway, leaning casually against the wall. With a jolt, he realised that he was now taller than Alex. Alex grabbed the house keys from a peg and stuffed them into his pocket.

"Won't Jack need those?" Tom asked curiously. Alex stilled and all of a sudden there was a horrible feeling in Tom's stomach as if he'd eaten something unpleasant. "Alex?" he asked again.

Alex shook his head slowly, his hand fisted around the keys.

"No," Tom whispered. "Alex, where's Jack? Come on mate..."

"Jack won't need them any more," Alex said finally. "She's not coming back."

"What do you mean she's not coming back? Alex? MI6 haven't deported her, have they? Alex, answer me... is she hurt?"

Alex lowered his eyes to the floor. "No" he whispered. "Not any more."

Tom closed his eyes, suddenly grateful for the wall giving him support. "Jack's dead, isn't she?"

Slowly, ever so slowly, Alex nodded.

"God. Oh God." Jack – dead? It seemed hardly possible to believe. The young American had such a vibrant personality that the thought of her-

"She's dead, Tom, and I couldn't stop it."

Tom bit his lip. "Alex, this isn't your fault," he said slowly, but Alex didn't seem to hear. It was obvious now that he wasn't in the right state to be here, that he should be at home with- who? Family? Friends? Tom shook his head. "Right," he said firmly. "This settles it. I'm coming with you?"

"What? No!"

"I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not. I've lost count of the times that I've thought you've been dead, or injured, or that you were never coming back. Not again."

Alex shook his head. "What about your parents?" he asked. "School?"

Tom shrugged and tried not to scowl. It didn't seem to work very well because Alex gave him a questioning look. "Mum and dad won't miss me. I've already told them I might stay at some friends for a few days," he said, "and I've never liked school anyway."

"What about Jerry?"

"I'm coming with you, whether you like it or not."

"It's dangerous! Jack is already dead and I don't-" Alex cut off, his head swivelling sharply to the right. His body tensed completely, one hand going down to his hip. "Someone's here," he whispered, "at the door."

They shared a look and then Alex was ushering Tom up the stairs, telling him to head out of the bathroom window, explaining how he'd installed several security features for exactly this reason. Tom hesitated but at a rough push from his friend, he ran up the stairs. However, instead of following Alex's instructions, he stopped and listened, just out of sight.

He could hear Alex's cautious footsteps as he went to the front door, the sound of the latch opening and the swish of carpet as it was pressed back by the door. There was a moment of silence before a car drove past and drowned out any other noise. Tom assumed that Alex had said something because the visitor, whoever he was, was replying.

"-as quick as I could," he was saying. His voice was deep but slightly frantic. "Alex, please."

Tom sneaked a look down the stairs. Alex was blocking the door so as not to allow the man to come in but he could just make out some short brown hair on a tanned scalp. He ducked back as Alex spoke.

"How do I know you're not with them?"

"You don't. Alex, I'm asking you to trust me, because there's a lot more at stake than you realise!"

"Like what?" Alex snapped.

The man hesitated and Tom sneaked another look. Alex's hand still hadn't left his hip. He wondered what sort of weapon his friend had hidden there.

"K Unit."

The words obviously meant something to Alex, whose hands immediately fell to his sides, but Tom remained clueless from the top of the stairs.

"All right," Alex said and he moved away from the door to allow the man in. "The kitchen's the first door on your left. Tom," he shouted up the stairs. "You can come down now."

Tom stood up and proceed cautiously down the stairs, wondering, as always, how Alex just knew that he hadn't followed the orders, without even checking. "Who is it?" he asked, jerking his head to the kitchen.

"Ben."

His eyes widened. "Bangkok? I thought he was a suit."

Alex hesitated. "He is. In a way. I'll explain more later."

Tom followed the spy into the kitchen and immediately took stock of the man that was waiting for them. As he had already seen, he had short brown hair that was military cut. He wore a plain white t-shirt and a leather jacket the managed to hide the obvious muscles but also emphasised his broad shoulders and stocky stature. His eyes were a penetrating blue and seemed to be sizing Tom up, too.

"Hi," Tom said. "I'm Tom." He didn't offer his hand.

"Ben," the man replied in turn. He turned to Alex. "I thought nobody else knew," he said accusingly.

"They don't," Alex shrugged. "Officially, anyway."

"What's he doing here?"

"He's... coming with me. It's not important. What about K Unit?"

Ben sighed wearily and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, even though he hadn't drunk anything. "The heads are after them," he said heavily. "You said you have nothing left to lose, but that's not entirely true, is it?"

"You told MI6 you have nothing left to lose?" Tom interrupted angrily. Alex waved him aside with a flippant hand.

"What are they going to do? It's not like they can-" Alex broke off at Ben's pitying look. "The journalist," he realised. "Harry Bullman. You don't think-"

"I do."

Both lapsed into a silence leaving Tom more confused than ever. "Alex, tell me what's going on?" he asked.

Alex glanced out of the window. "I argued with Blunt, he threatened me and I basically told him to do his worst. I didn't think he'd go this low..." he shook his head. "K Unit is the team I trained with at Brecon Beacons. Wolf, Snake, Eagle and Fox – or Ben."

Ben raised a hand briefly.

"We're not friends, but I respect them. I don't want them to get hurt because of me."

"Too late for that," Ben said. "If they've not acted already, they will do."

Alex sighed and put his head in his hands. "What can we do?" his muffled voice asked.

"I don't know."

Tom glanced between them. Alex's shoulders were slumped in defeat. Ben himself was looking more and more tired with ever passing comment and if he didn't smile soon, that frown was going to be set in place.

"I'm not going back. I can't do another mission for them," Alex muttered.

"No," Ben agreed. "That's not an option."

"Then what is?" Tom asked, getting frustrated. "Obviously we can't stick around here all day, so what are we going to do?" They both looked to Alex who raised his head.

"He's right," he said wearily. "We do need to get moving. I presume you're coming with us?"

Ben nodded.

"Right. We'll go in your car – I presume that's how you got here." Alex turned to Tom. "Have you got some clothes or something?"

Tom let a grin flash across his face for the first time since Alex had come back. "I might have packed you a bit extra," he confessed.

Alex grinned back. "Then I guess we'd better go visit the animal farm." He turned and left the room.

Ben stared after him. "The what?" he asked in disbelief.

Tom raised an eyebrow, his eyes dancing in amusement. "The Beacons," he said. "We're going to the Brecon Beacons."

The Need To Know :: The Need To Know

Alex leant his forehead against the cool glass of the window, once again watching the scenery as it rushed past at a much faster rate than his previous drive up to Wales. The vibrations jarred his head, but he kept it there, finding it somehow comforting.

The last time he'd come this way, it had been against his will towards people he was sure hated him. This time, it was willingly but with information that really was going to make the three men he'd come to respect hate him.

And he was angry.

He'd thought that he'd be free, he'd thought that being a cripple would hold them back. But no, of course not. As long as he was alive, he had a use – in Blunt's mind at least. He was sick of it. Right from the beginning, they'd blackmailed him, used others to make him do what they wanted. But was going against them the wrong thing to do? MI6 had a great deal of power. It needed to to successfully complete its job, but that power directed at one teenager... he shivered.

Even SCORPIA had bowed down to MI6 eventually. A deal to keep him safe, or they'd tell the criminal world about how he'd defeated them.

That thought chilled Alex to bone.

What if... what if they didn't just go against K Unit? What if they released SCORPIA from the deal? How long would it take them to come after him?

"Ben?" he said quietly.

"Yeah," the older man said, taking his eyes away from the road to glance at him. "What is it?"

"Do you think... the deal '6 made with SCORPIA..."

There was a long silence. Too long for Alex's liking. He knew that Tom was listening intently from the back without even having to look. He saw Ben's hands clench around the wheel.

"No," he said finally. "They want you back. They don't want you dead."

But he didn't sound certain.

Alex closed his eyes, but the thought of the deal had suddenly sparked an idea in his head. He sat bolt upright, ignoring Ben's alarmed look. Ever since his attempted assassination, he'd worried that SCORPIA would break the deal and would just kill him anyway. Now though, he wondered if the tables were turned – what would happen if it was MI6 who broke the deal, how would SCORPIA react then?

Well, they'd want revenge, he mused. They would have a thirst for blood that could not be sated by his own death alone. It could even be the start of a war.

Ideas and thoughts started to click together in his head so fast that it became a wonder that he had never thought of this before. It would work, he was sure of it! If he could just straighten out a few details here and there...

"Alex?" he heard Ben asking, a note of fear to his voice. "Are you all right?"

He sat back in his seat. "I'm fine," he said. "More than fine, in fact."

Ben looked at him warily but Alex ignored it. He'd been the victim for far too long. No more.

It was time to start playing Blunt at his own game.