Author: Writer With Sprite (duh)

Summary: Alex Rider is the son of a certain rich man – Alan Blunt. He is put in SAS training while Alan is away. K-Unit thinks he's a joke until Snake finds the scars. Eagle, who also was abused, is the first to realize that his stories don't match. Will they be able to find the truth?

Story rating: Teen (T)

Characters: Alex, Alan Blunt, K-Unit. No parings, no slash.

Style: AU, probably the closest to Stormbreaker books, no real spoilers that I can think of

Authors' Note: This has no connection to Hold Your Arms Steady, Graduation Day, or any of my other stories. This story has the first five chapters complete, and I have decided to post the first chapter early. I anticipate updating this approximately twice a week. Warnings for mentions of abuse to a main character.

BETA: Jayden95. Thank you!

Disclaimer: If I could write as well as the man who wrote Alex Rider, I wouldn't be in debt right now. (Alas, college days…)

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Alan Blunt had never asked to father a son. He'd never asked to father any children, and he had made that quite clear to his wife. His wife, who had been content not to have a child when she was twenty and beautiful, had decided when she was thirty that it was better late than never to have a child.

When Alan Blunt became the head of MI6, he spent the better part of ten years ignoring that child. The child who shehad named Alex. Damn Alex. When the kid was ten, he decided he hated his family and took to calling himself "Rider" when he thought no-one was listening.

At first it bothered Alan – and then he merely smiled. The boy was becoming unattached to him. He saw to it and preferred it that way. He knew the boy didn't like his guardian who helped him out, some man he'd hired, but he could hardly bring himself to care.

What was one boy's life compared to the thousands that he'd saved?

It was when Alan's wife died that he took his first time off of work in sixteen years. Not because he mourned her loss, but because he wanted to get away – away and clear his head.

That meant that Alex needed to be sent away, too. The fourteen year old wasn't exactly grief stricken; Mrs. Blunt had hardly been a great guardian, but he was nervous about what would happen now.

Alan Blunt just smiled and informed his son he would be going to training camp.

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Nicholas Menne was currently pacing outside the sergeant's office, trying to think what on earth he had done wrong now. In his two weeks at SAS training, he hadn't been called on the carpet once. Eagle, his comrade, had been called on the carpet numerous times. Nicholas – or Wolf as they called him – had seen Eagle's profile. Eagle was the son of a dead sergeant and had signed up to go to the SAS when his father had been shot in action. Although he was a horrible prankster, he took his duties as a "law 'forcement officer," as Eagle liked to call himself, seriously.

"Yes, sir?" Wolf asked as he moved into the barracks. "If Eagle's done anything, I'm sorry, sir."

"I'm sure Eagle has done something," the sergeant remarked dryly, "and I'm sure it's only a matter of time until I have another officer in my office, complaining that his Igeek/cd/television has been vandalized. But that's not why I called you in here."

Wolf was tempted to correct the sergeant on his mispronunciation of 'iPod', but knew better. He kept silent, knowing the man would continue when he was ready.

"Do you know who Alan Blunt is?"

It took a second for Wolf to think. They had been listening about world leaders last night. Was this some kind of pop quiz? "Yes, sir. The head of MI6," Wolf responded with a scratch of his head.

The sergeant nodded. "He has to go away for a few weeks; his wife just passed away. In the mean time, his son will be staying here for his protection. He'll be participating in whatever training courses he can," the man said. He stood. "I'm placing him in your unit because I feel you can handle him."

Why us? Wolf thought, only just then remembering that Python was the man's codename.

"I know you've been giving Eagle some 'TLC' because of his childhood," the man responded softly. Eagle had been fine until RTI training. He'd resisted interrogation, but had nightmares for three nights afterward. It had taken a meeting with the K-Unit present to figure out what was going on – and to figure out the truth: Eagle had been horribly abused, and RTI was bringing back bad images. "I'm not saying that you have to modycoddle this kid; I know you're not doing that for Eagle. Just watch out for him."

"When will he arrive?"

"Tomorrow morning. If you need anything, you're probably on your own. I don't have a way with words. Dismissed."

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Eagle was up early that morning. Snake and Fox were both relieved that he seemed to be more towards his usual self – somewhat. The man could be extremely annoying if he tried.

"Where's Eagle?" Wolf asked as he watched his teammates.

"Probably doing the chicken dance around the sergeant's hut," Fox responded with a tired sigh. "Why?"

"'Cause I need to tell you something."

Snake glanced at him before turning around and giving Wolf his full attention. "Let me guess, this has something to do with what the bossman called you in for last night?"

Wolf nodded. "Yeah. We're going to have to babysit some kid when we're here."

"Some kid? Who the hell puts their kid in the SAS?" Fox demanded, dropping down from his bunk and sliding on his boots.

"The head of MI6," Wolf responded, watching the two other members raise their eyebrows in surprise. "He gets here this morning. I was hoping to tell Eagle before he got here, but…."

"Hey Wolf!" This time it was Eagle who ducked his head in the hut. "Guess what, mate! We've got visitors. Isn't that exciting? In a van, too!"

"But he already found out," Wolf responded, chucking the nearest item to him at Eagle – Fox's canteen.

"Hey, that's mine!" Fox yelled, grabbing the item and retrieving it out of midair before it could hit Eagle. Eagle just chuckled and darted out of the door.

Wolf exhaled slowly as he turned to the other men. He didn't care who the kid's son was; he didn't deserve to belong to the SAS, not even for a short time. When he was done here, he'd want to leave; Wolf was sure on it.

And then Wolf would have a word with his rich father about sending a damn kid to the SAS.

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