Title: The End Is Only The Beginning.

Summary: After Cairo, decisions had been made, actions had been taken. Everyone involved had one thing in common. They all said it was over. But, decisions and actions have consequences, for as one door closes, another must surely open.

Rated: T

Warnings: Language, Scorpia Rising spoilers

Disclaimer: This is a work of FanFiction using characters from the Alex Rider series, intellectual property and copyright of Anthony Horowitz.

"...In everybody's life there is a point of no return. And in a very few cases, a point where you can't go forward anymore. And when we reach that point, all we can do is quietly accept that fact. That's how we survive."

Haruki Murakami

Brown eyes snapped open as a crash sounded from another area in the house. Alex stared at the ceiling for a second, listening intently for another sound to ring out in the silent building. There were none for a moment and he glanced to his window. Even through the curtains were closed, he could see the orange glow of the nearest streetlamp. It was still night.

He didn't attempt to move when he heard a soft footstep by his bed.

A hand clapped over his mouth roughly, muffling his surprised yell. Instead he kicked his legs, tossing the duvet to the floor and fully intending to lash out at the attacker before he felt a hand clamp down over both of his ankles effectively pinning him in place. He was about to raise his hands, in an attempt to fend off his attacker when he saw cool blue eyes looking back at him, piercing in their intensity.

There was a silent message sent to him in that gaze.

Don't say a word. Don't move. Do exactly as I say.

Alex nodded slowly, the hand being removed from his mouth. Before he had a chance to ask what was going on, he felt a pair of hands scoop up his small frame and move towards his bedroom door.

Soft padding footsteps were the only sound he heard as he was carried out of his bedroom. The man's grip on him was tight, so tight it almost hurt. Alex could hear whispered voices downstairs and he held back the wince from the man's grip tightening on him further.

He was carried silently, without alerting whoever the men were, into the next room along. His eyes widened in surprise. This was Ian's office. He was never allowed in here. For a second he opened his mouth to question, before he remembered his captors silent warning. He snapped his mouth closed as the man holding him crouched. Alex turned his head to look back towards the room, only for a hand to cover his eyes and cast his world into darkness.

Somewhere behind him there was a light metal clank and Alex tensed up and shook his head. "No-"

"Be quiet."

Alex clamped his eyes closed behind the hand. He just wanted to know what was going on! He was moved, the hand that was over his eyes ducking his head down further as he was sat on something hard, the coldness seeped through his pyjama bottoms and he snapped his eyes open as he slid backwards at a rough push. His pyjama top had ridden up at the back and bare skin hit metal. He saw those same blue eyes look at him before there was a flurry of movement and a metal door was swung shut in front of him.

"He's up here!"

Alex lunged across the tiny, tiny room he had been placed in and slammed his fist against the door as he looked around with a panicked intake of breath.

"Oi," Alex yelled, his fist thumping the door that had been so unjustly slammed shut. "Lemme out!"

There was no response and Alex continued to hammer against the door, paying no heed to the man's previous warning. Alex froze and felt a sheen of sweat form on his forehead as a loud bang echoed twice outside of the room he was in. He fell back to the floor, struggling to breath, his chest tightening.

He knew that sound. He had heard it before on TV.

Alex listened intently for any further noise, counting away the seconds silently in his mind. The longer the silence drew on, the more he felt panic rise in his chest. Soon he felt tears forming, and he clenched his eyes closed.

He would not cry. He wouldn't.

But the tears came anyway and he pulled his legs up to his body, wrapping his arms around his knees as he muffled his sobs into his knees. He tried to push himself back, wanting to disappear into the wall behind him. Bright light spilling into the previously dark prison he had been held in as the door was pulled open once again. Two hands reached in to grab him and he kicked out, one foot connecting with the man's wrist. The sob that he had been muffling behind his knees escaped by accident and there was an irritated growl from outside.

"Get out here, Alex."

Alex shook his head as blue flashes lit the room up from the window. He still didn't move. Instead he just pulled his knees up and ducked his head onto them, not wanting to be seen crying. There was just the shadow of a figure stood imposingly outside his only way of escape as there were frantic footsteps from the hall and the door to the room was thrown open.

"Ian!" Alex let out a sigh as the familiar voice sounded through the room. "Where's Alex?"

"In here," The response was curt, and Alex flinched when thought he heard a small amount of disappointment in his tone. "He won't come out when I tell him too."

There was a slight scuffle outside of his little room along with hushed words and Alex tried to smother his sobs as best he could. Jack Starbright's face appeared in the opening, her long curls concealing half her face as she ducked down a little to look at him.

"Hey Al," she said softly. Alex swiped his hand across his nose and sniffled slightly.

"'Ello Jack." He managed, it sounded watery, even to his inexperienced ears but she smiled anyway.

"You going to come out here?" she said, her boyish face lit with a small smile. One that Alex had become accustomed to, even though she had only been living with them for a year. He shook his head and she lowered herself to the floor.

"Why not?" she asked, Alex took a breath before speaking.

"I heard a gun. Like on TV," He mumbled, he only said it quietly. He knew how angry Ian got when he acted like this

"Well," she said slowly, looking around exaggeratedly, a funny expression on her face. "There's no one out here now with a gun."

Alex spared a glance to Ian, who was stood with his arms crossed to Jack's side and he bit his lip, before leaning forwards. Jack smiled and copied the movement, her head poking into his small room, when they were close enough Alex stopped.

"I was scared," He whispered, casting a sheepish look at Ian. Jack's disposition didn't change, instead her smile softened.

"Do you remember what I said?" she whispered back. Alex raised one pale eyebrow. "When you woke up from your nightmare last month?"

"After the film?"

"Yes," Jack responded, still whispering. Alex nodded slowly, a slight sniffle and a watery smile on his face as he held his hands up in front of him in a circle.

"My space. My space alone, were I can be what I want and think what I want. No one can hurt me here, in my bubble," Alex replied, his voice was louder now as he started to calm. Jack nodded slowly, and she held out a hand cautiously.

"So, you going to come out now?"

Alex hesitated, just for one second, before reaching out his own small hand and grabbing hers. Slowly she helped him out and picked him up easily, he was quite small for a eight year old and she rested him against her hip. Alex looked at Ian, the man's piercing blue eyes looked at the pair with a stern gaze, before he gave a strained smile.

"Back to bed, Alex," Ian said, his tone wasn't soft. Alex just nodded mutely. "Jack, I need a word with you when Alex is in bed."

"Fine," Jack responded, Alex looked between the pair with a nervous glance as they started a small battle of narrowed eyes, before Jack strode out of the room with Alex in her grasp. She tucked him into bed, careful to adjust the covers just the way he liked it, before flicking on the night light that Ian had forgotten to turn on before. Alex frowned as she headed for the door without another word.

"Jack?" Alex said quietly, she turned to look at him, her red hair seeming to glow slightly in the faint light. "How was your date?"

"I'll tell you in the morning. Now go to sleep or you'll be late for football in the morning," Jack replied, Alex nodded slowly and scooted down under the covers. He listened as her footsteps disappeared downstairs and wished for sleep to come. Before it had the chance there were raised voices from downstairs. Well, one raised voice that he recognised. Jack's. He never heard Ian raise his voice. Ever.

It only lasted a few minutes before he heard a set of footsteps climbing the stairs once again. Alex shut his eyes, feigning sleep and pulling the duvet over his head. He heard his door creak open slightly and knew it wasn't Jack. She wasn't as quiet when she checked up on him.

Alex jumped when he felt his bed dip and he resisted the urge to poke his head out and look at his uncle. He knew somehow he had done something wrong from the man's stern gaze earlier.

"Alex," Ian said with a sigh. "I know you are not asleep."

Alex slowly eased his body up, his head poking out of the top of the duvet. "How'd you know?"

"You never sleep with your head under the duvet," Ian replied calmly. Alex nodded, wondering just how many times the man had checked up on him at night to recognise that trait. Slowly he sat himself upright, eyes downcast to the duvet.

"What were you and Jack arguing about?"

"Nothing, Alex," Ian replied calmly, his gaze didn't move from Alex and he took a deep breath. "We were talking about what happened, and the um, bubble theory."

"Oh," Alex felt himself turn red. He had made Jack promise not to tell Ian about that little episode, and Alex, even though he was young, really didn't think Ian would have approved of his being scared of something as silly as a nightmare. His uncle gave an uncertain smile.

"Does it help?" Ian asked. Alex looked serious for a second, his face screwed up in concentration before he nodded slowly.

"It makes me brave, if I think people can't get to me."

There was a long pause, and Alex watched as Ian seemed to work through a thought process.

"People can still hurt you Alex, if they wanted to," Ian said slowly. Alex stared at him for a second, before he nodded. He knew that anyway, and the smile Ian gave him was an understanding one. "What they can't do is demean you, if you show no fear when faced with danger."

"You're talking about me crying," Alex said quietly, his eyes fixated themselves on the duvet once again and he picked at a loose thread. He knew he had done something wrong. There was a quiet laugh and Alex looked up to see Ian looking at him with a certain fondness that was present only in moments like these, moments when it was just him and his Uncle with no outside interferences. Alex secretly wondered if his uncle cared about him just sometimes.

"Controlling that particular emotion is something that comes with both time and experience," Ian replied in a sage voice, with no hint of criticism. Alex nodded, a hesitant smile moving onto his face. Ian tapped the spot on the bed Alex had originally been laying in, the youth leant back down and pulled the duvet up under his chin as Ian grabbed the book from the bedside table.

"Who were those men, Ian?" Alex asked quietly. The man paused in his movements, placing the book on his lap as he looked at the child laid beside him.

"Just some people from work. We'll talk about it in the morning. Right now, it's story time." Alex just nodded, his uncle pulled open the book with gusto and Alex settled his head against the pillow. Ian took a deep breath and started to read.

"The Hardy Boys and the Sting of the Scorpion."

Alex snapped open his eyes, and jerked his head forwards from its resting point against the plane seat. The sudden movement caught Edward Pleasure's eye as he looked at the young blonde with a quizzical expression. Alex forced a smile onto his face and picked up the bottle of water in front of him that had been presumably left by the stewardess.

"You okay, Alex?" Edward Pleasure asked, Alex nodded and pretended to play with the cap of the bottle of water absentmindedly. His fingertips were, in fact, delicately checking the seal was still intact.

He couldn't be too careful.

"Fine. Just a little tired," He responded placidly. Edward nodded, giving him one last sceptical look before turning back to the paper he was reading. Alex took a long swig of the water, as he turned his head out of the window and he grasped at the lingering mental images of his dream. Only it wasn't a dream, it was a memory and one he hadn't thought of for a long time.

Much like any dream or nightmare you are loathe to enjoy, the smaller insignificant images were slipping through his fingers like grains of sand the harder he tried to clutch at them.

It had been like this the last two weeks; unexpected memories creeping up on him, making an appearance the only time he was vulnerable to them, the only time he couldn't fight them and every damn time they caused a melancholic dip in his mood.

It was dark outside of the window, Alex presumed they were still flying across the Atlantic. He could feel the fleeting glances from his travelling companion and he had to withhold a sigh. It had been the same since Mr Pleasure had picked him up from The Priory centre in the New Forest.

He was being treated like a ticking time bomb.

He wouldn't show them, what they expected to see. True to both memory and form, the bubble theory had worked when he was younger and it still did. The optimistic looks Edward had been giving him in response to his bravado, as they had walked through the airport in London, had sealed that assumption.

Alex closed his eyes again, his lips twitching at the corners into a slight sardonic smile as he thought that maybe, just maybe, it hadn't been just Ian's influence that had helped him survive the last year.

It disappeared almost instantly as the unpleasant reminder that he was the only one who had survived the last year entered his mind.

He tried to lock down those thoughts, it made it all the harder to maintain his composure and tried to look at the positive's from that event. Instead he found himself analysing and thinking about the recently re-acquired memory, understanding it in a way he never had before.

His thoughts tainted it, made it bleaker than it should have been.

Ian had whisked him and Jack off for a surprise holiday to Fiji the very next day.

Alex was an overexcited eight year old, more interested in the adventurous activities his uncle always had planned, than how Jack's date went.

He never found out who the mysterious men from work were either.