Disclaimer: I thought you would have figured this out by now. Alex Rider never was—and probably never will be—mine. He belongs to Anthony Horowitz.

Previously…

After a few more seconds of waiting, Luke picked up. "Ben? What's going on?"

"It's okay Luke. Everything's going to be okay."

"What?"

Ben grinned. "Everything's going to be okay now. Alex woke up!"

CHAPTER 39: Abnormal Normal

Alex blinked rapidly, before squeezing his eyes shut. It was just so bright. He gave a sleepy smile when a hand reached up and shaded his eyes from the glare. It had been the same routine for the past three days. Alex would wake up, discover that the lights were too bright, and Ben—because it was never anyone else—would give him some sort of relief until his eyes adjusted. The adjustment period usually didn't take very long, no more than a few moments. After that, more often than not, Alex found himself just staring at the ceiling of his room when he was awake.

There was still something stuck in his throat that made it impossible to say anything, but he was generally able to get across what he wanted. Not that he was awake for long periods of time. He had only recently managed to stay awake longer than a minute, and even then, his eyelids were usually drooping heavily after trying to follow Ben's one-sided conversation. And the thought of moving… Although he knew he was heavily dosed up on painkillers, he wasn't able to forget the fiery pain from before.

His memories of the last few days in the compound were sketchy at best, with the pain being the only clear feeling. And it didn't help that it had since been three weeks. Three weeks of lying unconscious—and if Ben was to be believed—right on death's door. It was a small miracle that he was alive and conscious.

"Is… is he okay?" The voice was different from Ben's, but familiar still. Though where he knew it from… Alex wasn't quite sure. He knew that there were a lot of things that wasn't quite right within his mind, but he wasn't too fussed about it. Ben said it would come with time.

"Yeah. It's just the lights." There was Ben. "Hey, Alex. You've got a visitor today."

A visitor? So far, Ben had been the only person he saw. Alex didn't count Dr. Sayer as a visitor… After all, he was required to check up on Alex, and those visits had been more frustrating than anything else. The only plus side to Dr. Sayer's last visit, had been the promise of removing the breathing tube in a day or so if he continued to improve. The only plus.

Of course, that didn't mean that there hadn't been others present as well. Nurses sometimes drifted in as well, when he was awake. Alex's disjointed sense of time made it rather difficult to tell when something had occurred and who was present. He only had a vague idea of how long it had been since he last woke up, and didn't consciously remember anything that had happened during the half-aware periods between waking completely. He knew something had happened, but not what.

"Alex?" The familiar yet unfamiliar voice was back, but this time it was slightly closer to his head.

His curiosity got the better of him, outweighing the desire to not move an inch, and he rolled his head to the side. It was pathetic how much strength it took to just roll his head to the side. It certainly didn't help his overall feeling of being an invalid. The facts as they stood were rather depressing. He was only partially breathing on his own, swallowing was out of the question, staying awake longer than a few minutes was impossible, and he seemed to have lost three quarters of his muscle strength. An invalid.

So maybe moving a bit was a good idea…

With his head turned to the side—the first truly voluntary movement he had made in a long while—he was able to just barely make out the second figure at his side. After a moment longer, the person moved closer and into better focus, and Alex was able to make out the features. Features that looked strangely like Ben's…

Luke.

If it had been physically possible, Alex was sure he would have gasped. He was staring into the face of a dead man. The memories came slamming back into him at that point. Memories that he had thought he lost to the haze of pain and fever taking over his mind. But no… he could all too vividly describe the horror picture that Walker had painted for him with Luke's death.

He had watched him die.

Walker had killed him.

Alex's eyes widened and his left arm took up the urgent jerking motion he had adopted when he became agitated. No, no, no. Luke was dead. It couldn't be happening again. The hallucinations were supposed to be gone. He was supposed to be getting better.

"Whoa… there's nothing to be worried about, Alex." Ben grabbed a hold of the jerking arm, and tried to calm it back into submission.

The movement did nothing for Alex. He didn't want to be calmed. He wasn't about to just sit around and wait for the hallucination to attack. It always did. Unfortunately, his grip was pitifully weak, so he had no hope of dislodging Ben. Besides… there really wasn't anything he could do. He couldn't run or hide from the place, much less do anything that would get him away.

"Alex, just calm down. Everything's all right. Luke just wanted to see you for himself. Shh…" Ben reached out a hesitant second hand, and brushed the hair off his face. A second later, Alex could have sworn that Luke smiled at him. But… that wasn't right. Luke hated him. After all, Alex was the reason Luke was dead. For that matter, Ben should hate him too… None of it fit with the visual clues though.

Another hand reached out and joined Ben's, on his arm. The heat on his arm made Alex freeze, staring at it. It felt real… but it couldn't be. There was no way… His arm started shaking, and not just the agitated jerk. No, this was the fearful shake. The shake that meant he was unsure of what his next move would entail. He was definitely entertaining the thought of giving into exhaustion again.

"Hey, there. None of that. It's just Luke—" Ben cut himself off and peered at Alex closely, looming overhead. "Ah… that could be a problem wouldn't it? You're confused here…" He held onto Alex's trapped hand, and rubbed the back of the palm in a soothing gesture. "Do you think that Walker killed Luke? In the compound?"

Alex's eyes darted between Ben and… Luke. His memories were fuzzy and indistinct, but along with the underlying current of terror and pain, there was sadness as well. Loss of hope. He managed a vague jerk of his head, wondering if the acknowledgement would be what caused Ben's anger to come out. He had never seen Ben angry…

"Ah…" Ben nodded, and smoothed his hand through Alex's hair. "It's okay Alex. They didn't kill Luke. He's okay, as you can see. You're not hallucinating again, I promise. It was a trick. Walker tricked you into thinking Luke was dead."

Alex clenched his jaw, trying to fight against the onslaught of emotions that arose at those words. Did he dare trust Ben? Was Luke really there? Alive and well? He was sure he had never wanted to speak more in his life, but the tube in his throat prevented any sort of sounds from escaping.

"See? Nothing to get worked up about. Luke's okay."

Luke moved closer, until he was right next to Alex's head. "Yeah… they didn't do anything to me. Just tossed me in with you and Leif after a while."

Alex blinked rapidly, remembering the fuzzy image of the stranger hovering over him. The one that had helped him. But Leif had been the only one… There had been another person with them. He just hadn't realized… He tightened his grip on Ben's hand, and gave a very brief and very hesitant smile in Luke's direction. He wished he could have asked the myriad of questions tumbling through his brain, but they were already starting to get mixed up again. He was reaching his exhaustion point.

Thankfully, Ben noticed. "You look exhausted Alex. We'll be here when you wake up again, okay?"

Alex glanced between the two of them, before nodding and giving into his tired eyes. It wasn't until he was almost asleep again that he realized Ben was calling him Alex.

"Afternoon, Alex. How are you doing today?"

"I'm… okay." His voice was anything but smooth, and seemed to scratch unnaturally. It had been like that ever since the tube was removed, but had slowly been getting better over the days. The speech therapist that had evaluated him, had recommended that he speak as little as possible, to give the vocal chords some more time to heal. But even if it wasn't full speech, it was better than being silent.

"I heard you've been working hard to get your upper body strength back." Dr. Sayer sent him a knowing smile. "While I know you're eager to get out of here, I want to remind you not to overdo it. I can't imagine you would like to have to stay here longer because you do something wrong. Or pull the stitches."

Alex grimaced, but nodded. The physical therapist had been adamant about working through the exercises only when supervised. It had only been under threat from Ben that he actually complied. So, twice a day, someone—most often a nurse, but occasionally Ben—took him down the hall to the rehabilitation center. It was the traveling part that he disliked the most. Since he wasn't able to walk—in some ways he was lucky to even be able to sit—he had to get by with a wheelchair. A thoroughly humiliating device, in his opinion.

"How's your arm feeling?" Dr. Sayer asked, examining the edges of the dark green cast on Alex's right arm.

"Sore."

"Hmm."

Alex still wasn't entirely sure why they had delayed the surgery on his wrist until after he woke up. He certainly would have enjoyed skipping over the renewal of pain from that… They had reset and pinned the bones the week before, and since then, there had been an almost persistent throb from that arm. It didn't help any that the injury in his shoulder was still slowly healing, and they had decided to cut back on the amount of painkillers he was on.

"Aside from trying to overdo it, I've heard that you're making excellent progress. Sitting unsupported now?"

"Some." It was frustrating how much time it took to overcome the result of a three week coma. Dr. Sayer had even said that the recovery could take up to the greater part of a year. At least by then, the visible injuries would be gone. But no one saw him walking unsupported within the next few weeks, especially not while his arm was still in a cast. It would be weeks before he could put any weight on the arm.

"Alex?"

Alex blinked, realizing belatedly that he had missed some sort of question from Dr. Sayer. "Hmm?"

Dr. Sayer smiled again, before patting his uninjured arm. "I was asking how your concentration is coming, but I can see that it still wanders. Do you have any trouble when Ben's talking to you?"

Alex shook his head. He really didn't zone out as often any more, but there were times that his attention wavered. When Ben was around though, he tended to have a solid focus point.

"What about with other people?"

Alex grinned sheepishly.

"I figured." He withdrew and scribbled a few things down on a clipboard before turning back to Alex. "Very well then. I'll leave you be. Get some rest. You're going to need it tonight. I heard that your buddies from the safe house are back in town and Ben's bringing them to visit."

Alex stared at the door for a few moments after the doctor left, before sliding down underneath the covers. K-unit and the others had been out of the country for a long time. It was nearing six weeks since they had been found, and only Mendelssohn had come back in that timeframe. Braden and the others had still been abroad, tracking down the errant members of Simurgh and the ex-SCORPIA members directly involved with the compound.

Ben had come with news only a few days earlier that everyone that had been in the compound was awaiting sentencing in some country, and the major players with Simurgh were locked up—or dead. The fact was—Alex was safe again. He didn't need to hide under layers of protection, secluded away from all prying eyes.

Jones had even gone so far to say that he would be able to rejoin a school once he was physically capable. In the meantime, he had access to tutors and anything else he could need, once he was mentally ready. Which, if Ben and Dr. Sayer had their way, wouldn't be for a number of weeks after he had been released from the hospital. He was already planning to be bored in those intervening weeks.

If he was honest, he was bored now. It mainly stemmed from the fact that he was too tired to hold up a book to read, and the thought of watching anything on the television didn't appeal to him. Maybe one of these days Ben would get around to going through the things packed from the safe house and find the iPod. At least then, he would have music to listen to…

A nap, a round of exercises with the physical therapist, and another nap later, and Alex was getting ready to eat his supper. Though the food wasn't anything exciting, it was varied enough that he didn't get bored. And after weeks of being nearly starved, any food was considered palatable. Even if it had been a number of weeks since then. The liquid nutrition in the weeks he was unconscious did nothing to satisfy that hunger.

Aside from the interaction with the nurses—something that had diminished, now that he was in a regular room—doctors, and Ben's visits, the entire hospital stay was rather lonely. The first two weeks after he had regained consciousness hadn't been so bad, since he spent the majority of his time asleep. Ben had also been around more. Now, he came in during the evenings, and sometimes in the mornings, but spent the majority of the day putting in hours at MI6. He had explained that he was anticipating taking a couple weeks to a month off once Alex was let out.

The unspoken expectation that he was to continue living with Ben had filled him with a strange sort of happiness. He wasn't quite sure what it was, but the feeling hadn't left him since.

A knock on the doorframe caused Alex to look up from his plate of food, and he couldn't help but grin when he saw Ben standing there. The figure was unmistakable. It took him a moment to realize that there were others behind Ben, and he remembered what Dr. Sayer had said. Visitors. Visitors in the form of k-unit.

"Hey Alex. You up for some visitors?" Ben asked, still hovering beside the door.

"Yeah…" He nodded toward his tray of food, before attempting to clear his throat. "Don't… mind me."

Ben sent him a glance that was half amused and half suspicious as he crossed the room. "Just be careful with your voice."

Alex glared at him, and mouthed the words instead of saying them. "Yes, mum."

Ben reached over and ruffled Alex's hair, earning another glare from Alex. He drew up the chair beside the bed, before waving around the room to the others. "Good luck finding a seat, but I'm sure there's plenty around somewhere." He grinned at Alex, as the others shuffled around the room, trying to find a place to sit down. "So, how was your day? Dr. Sayer was supposed to come by today, wasn't he?"

Alex barely kept himself from rolling his eyes, and nodded. "He did." Dr. Sayer came by every day.

"Any news? Or do I have to track him down myself?"

"Good progress. Don't overdo it. And…" Alex blinked at nothing, trying to dredge up the memories of the early afternoon. "Er… concentration issues."

Ben chuckled. "You zoned out on him, didn't you."

Alex shrugged, and ate some more food off his plate. An awkward silence fell, and Alex squinted at the nearest person. It appeared to be Micah. "What's new… with you lot?"

Someone to his left snorted, and Alex guessed that the imposing figure was Mendelssohn. It seemed that everyone had shown up for the evening visit. That meant that Braden was probably around somewhere as well…

"Oh, not much." Micah replied, flicking a nonexistent piece of dust off his shirt. "Running around the world catching bad guys, saving the world. You know—the usual."

Alex rolled his eyes. "Like that's… usual." His voice cracked slightly, and he fought to keep from coughing. He hated coughing, because the irrepressible movement made everything else—particularly his still healing shoulder—hurt. "See anything interesting?"

"Most of the time we were out in the middle of nowhere." The voice came from his right, and Alex glancing in that direction, trying to discern who it was. Dmitri, perhaps. "But sometimes we made it into the cities. Simurgh had most of their people in compounds hidden outside of the cities, but there were some small bases within. So we got to see a good portion of Moscow, while we worked with the FSB."

"Yeah, and then we lost Sebastian in the streets near St. Basil's Cathedral." There was no doubt that this was Braden. "It certainly sent the FSB into a fit, especially when they found him a mile away from where he was supposed to be. I think they were more than happy when we left two days later."

Alex snorted, imagining the Russian Security Service running around, trying to find the missing SAS soldier, in a city of eleven million people—not counting any tourists present. Needle in a haystack sort of problem.

"Well, there was Paris as well." Sebastian replied. "We all got separated, got attacked by two different gangs, and the DCRI had to bail Braden and Micah out of jail for killing two of the gang members—who in truth were Simurgh operatives. They were pretty quick to get us out of the city, after that. Something about being a threat to the populace."

Everyone in the room chuckled at that, and Alex could almost imagine the various intelligence agencies around the world breathing a sigh of relief once k-unit was out of the way. Ben had kept him updated, as to where they were during the past two weeks, so he knew that they had been all over the world. Last he knew they had been Côte d'Ivoire clearing up the last of the Simurgh supporters there. Though the countries were still warring against each other and themselves, the outside antagonists had been removed from the fight. Now it was up to the countries to try to bring peace again.

It wasn't likely to come for a long while.

"How long do you all have leave for?" Ben asked, breaking into Alex's thoughts again. "You've been working pretty much nonstop for the past six months."

"One month of leave, and two weeks of retraining. Then we'll be at MI6's beck and call for two months after that. Regular duty starts up in January." Sebastian sounded relieved that their stint with MI6 was coming to an end. "I, for one, am looking forward to being able to sleep in my own house again. Ann's probably wondering if I'm ever coming home."

Alex raised an eyebrow. "Ann?"

Ben snorted. "His wife."

It seemed strange to think that they all had outside lives, with relationships included. Alex had never really thought about, had always seen them as just men serving their country. But it wasn't just their country they were protecting; it was their families as well… It made them seem entirely less intimidating, although they had lost any intimidation by living with Alex for months on end. It was just another point toward their humanity.

"So what's new with you? Any idea when you're going to leave this place?"

Alex rolled his eyes, and waved toward Ben. "He would know." And it also got him off of having to talk. Of course he was doing it because the therapist had told him to limit his talking, not because he was getting tired already.

No, not at all…

"Ah, home sweet home." Ben turned around to find Alex scowling at him. "Oh, stop that Alex." He paused for a moment, tilting his head slightly. "Whoa, déjà vu…"

Alex just shook his head in exasperation, and pushed the forward button on the wheelchair. Smithers had come through to rescue him, in a sense, by providing the powered wheelchair that was just filled with nifty gadgets. He was still on standing restriction, but the hope was that he'd be able to walk—with some kind of support—after a couple more weeks of therapy. If things went well, before the last week of October. "That's because you said that the first time you brought me home."

Ben just grinned, and waved his hand down the hall. "Well… it is a different flat. I've only been here for a week, you know." MI6 had arranged a larger flat for Ben, one that had enough rooms for both Alex and Luke, and a spare for when anyone came to visit. It had also been disability proofed, so that when Alex was walking again, he'd have easy access to whatever he needed. "And I've spent three quarters of that time at work and at the hospital."

Alex shrugged slightly, glancing at the walls. Even though it was a new place, it felt a lot like the old flat. Only, there were more pictures around… he suspected that had to do with Mrs. Daniels influence. She had been around until just a few days earlier, visiting him once or twice in the hospital, and was now back in Liverpool. Luke was also staying with them, even though it would take him a half hour commute every morning and evening to attend classes. Alex hadn't seen him in the past week, but according to Ben, he was readjusting to normal life rather well, and was already eagerly awaiting classes starting the next week—just so he'd have something to do.

The new flat also had the added benefit that it was rather close to St. Dominic's. While he would still have to go there for physical therapy and follow-up visits, it wouldn't be a long commute.

"Luke's not going to be home for another hour, so you've got a chance to get settled in." Ben led the way to the bedroom Alex would be staying in. "The whole flat's larger, so you've got some more space in your room. Someone dropped off your things a couple of days ago, but aside from the clothes, I left most of it packed up. I'm not sure what you want to do with the rest of it. It's mostly books, and random objects."

Alex sighed and looked around the room. He had enough room to maneuver, but it didn't feel overly large either. It was comfortable… "I'll look through the books. There's a bookcase somewhere here, right?"

Ben just nodded toward the side of the desk. "Bookcase, organizing drawers in the desk, a couple of hidden compartments courtesy of Smithers, and—the item you've been bugging me about for the past week—the iPod. It's been revamped as well, and you'll find a user manual on it. It will self-delete once you reach the end of the file, so make sure you memorize the stuff."

Alex rolled his eyes, but took the iPod gratefully. At least now he could listen to music…

"I'll leave you be. Supper will be ready once Luke gets home. And don't you dare get up to stand. Dr. Sayer would have my head!"

Alex blinked slowly, leaning back in his chair. The only true advantage to being wheelchair bound was that when he got tired he could just doze off, or simply just relax the muscles in his upper back and neck. He hated the contraption, but could acknowledge its usefulness. He knew he had no hope of standing longer than a few seconds, or taking more than a scant number of steps. Yes, his muscles were regaining their strength, but that didn't stop him from being frustrated by the small amounts of progress he made every day. Going from being so active, to being so inactive was hard on him, but the physical therapist was adamant that he would eventually regain his old energy and fitness. It would just take time. And rushing it wouldn't help any.

Of course, before he could even think of using crutches—or worse, a walker—he had to get the cast off his arm and regain the flexibility lost there. It was all a matter of weeks.

The headlights of other cars passed by, and Alex leaned against the window. The weeks and month had come and gone—rather quickly, as far as Alex was concerned. It was nearing the end of November, and the weather outside had taken a definite chill. He was glad that he was on the inside of the car, instead of outside.

Someone tapped on his window, and Alex glanced up, to see Ben grinning at him. Of course, his refuge from the cold would only last so long… it was time to get out and face the chill—if only for a short amount of time. Ben had been adamant about going out for the night, and had even managed to rope Luke into coming along as well, despite the fact that he had things due in the morning.

A blast of cold air greeted Alex as the door opened, and he couldn't help but pull his jacket tighter around himself. He found it hard to believe that a year ago he had been out in the cold for hours on a daily basis, while commuting between his flat and the bar. If he had his way—and Ben did too—he wouldn't be working again until he was much, much older. Five or six years, at the least.

"Come on, we're freezing out here." Ben said, holding out a hand in Alex's direction. "Last I checked, it was a nice balmy four degrees out here, so I'd rather not stand here any longer than necessary."

Alex rolled his eyes, and took Ben's hand. He noted proudly that he didn't sway at all once he was standing, but knew better than to take that as proof of full recovery. It was a slow process, according to the physical therapist—one that would take more than just a number of weeks and breakthroughs to get through. He knew better than to let go of Ben's arm, and was just glad that he would be able to forego the crutches for the night—even if it meant he had to lean heavily on someone's arm…

Luke snapped the door shut behind them, before walking down the sidewalk a ways, and propping the door to the restaurant open for them. It was a night of celebration, according to Ben, and Alex was inclined to just go along with the both of their antics—he knew they had been itching to go out sometime. After all, it wasn't every day that he managed to walk around the therapy room unsupported and unaided. While it was progress he would have loved to have weeks earlier, Alex had learned rather quickly that his frame of mind directly influenced how well he did. The more he brooded over what he couldn't do, the less he did manage to do at the appointments. When he focused on what he could do, things just tended to go that much better.

Despite the fact that he had managed walking unsupported for a short while, there was no way he could have even made the distance from the car to their seats in the restaurant. He would have had to rest somewhere along the way. At least with a person to lean on, he was able to manage the distance without his legs feeling like they were going to give out. They just trembled a bit on the last few steps.

He slid into the booth seat, before reaching up and pulling off his glasses. They had fogged up, coming in from outside, and he sent a frown in the offending object's direction.

Ben snorted, half hiding behind his menu. "You know, I don't understand why those bug you so much. You wore glasses as a part of your disguise for months. What's so bad about the real things?"

Alex rolled his eyes, before wiping the lenses off and slipping them back on. "Those were just frames and clear lenses… everything's blurry without these." It had taken a number of weeks before anyone realized that Alex was having trouble seeing things. He had always brushed the fuzziness of his vision off as being tired—which he was, most of the time—and he hadn't really thought about it more. That is, until Dr. Sayer asked him a few pointed questions about why he was always squinting at things…

The introduction of glasses, he found, was both a blessing and a curse. He enjoyed being able to see things clearly again, and hadn't truly realized how bad it was until he could switch between having his glasses on and off. There was a marked difference. Of course, there was a difference between wearing glasses because he needed them to stay undetected, and wearing glasses because he actually needed them to see…

"At least they do their job, right?"

Alex just rolled his eyes again, before studying the menu before him. He hadn't actually paid any attention to what the place was called, and let out a snort of amusement. It was a French restaurant. Thankfully not one of the upscale ones that only the chef—and those that actually spoke French—knew what the words on the menu meant. Ian had taken him to a couple of those, and he had been less than impressed with the food. Then again, that might just have been the eight year old wishing for something that wasn't served in mystery sauce…

Ben nudged him under the table with his foot. "What're you laughing at?"

"A French restaurant. Really?"

"What? It was a choice between here and the Vietnamese place. Luke chose here."

Luke tapped the menu thoughtfully. "I didn't want Asian—we've had that so much in the past few months. And besides, I think the Tartiflette sounds delicious."

Alex smothered a grin at the mispronunciation and nodded, before skimming over the menu thoughtfully. "The Pot-au-feu looks good too." He definitely needed something to warm him up… and soup would do just that.

"In that case, are we ready to order?" Ben asked, setting his menu down. Alex suspected that he had been here a couple of times, judging by the way that he had merely skimmed the menu before nodding to himself.

"Might as well."

A moment later, a waiter came by to take their orders and to bring them their drinks. Ben got some kind of quiche, along with an appetizer for them all. Once the waiter had moved on, taking their menus with them, Ben reached into his pocket and pulled out a letter. He studied the front of it for a moment, before grinning and passing it across the table to Alex.

"Mrs. Jones apologizes that it took so long—granted it was a lot quicker than what most have to wait… Apparently, even she has to do a bit of sleight of hand to get it done properly, without people asking too many questions. And getting it dated correctly."

Alex raised an eyebrow, and looked down at the unassuming envelope. He swallowed, wondering just how much of his future rested on the contents of the envelope. He knew exactly what would be inside, and wasn't entirely sure he wanted to see. But of course, this was probably the true reason why Ben wanted to go out—he had just been looking for an excuse that wouldn't make Alex suspicious.

This meant that either the results were good or they would need a way to drown their sorrows…

"Don't just stare at it. I want to know what you got." Luke said, nudging him under the table with his foot. "I put good hours in over the spring, so I'd like to know if my hard work paid off."

Alex rolled his eyes, before slitting open the envelope and pulling out the piece of paper. He was studiously not looking at the marks… This is to certify that the candidate named below was awarded the following grade(s) in the subject(s) shown: Alexander Rider of Private School.

"Well?"

Alex waved him off, before skimming over the grades, and relaxing in relief. They weren't that bad. In fact, they were probably rather good… some definitely better than he had expected. "It's not bad… I got an A* in maths…" It seemed that his months of studying had paid off. Even though there had been a gap of two months in the midst of it, he had still pulled off good grades.

Luke pulled the paper away, and skimmed over it as well. "Not bad? You got better grades than I did! And A*'s on all your languages… that shouldn't be possible, since you started Spanish and German only a month before you took the test."

"Well, he is fluent." Ben leaned over his brother's shoulder, trying to read the paper. "What's your worst grade…? Ah, history. No surprise there I suppose."

Alex shrugged. He hadn't been expecting anything good with history. The fact that he had managed a passing grade—barely—was enough to make him happy. And the languages weren't surprising at all. Adding the two new languages had been a way to get back into studying and categorizing information he already knew, before moving on to relearning what he had covered over the spring and summer. He had been almost ready then for the tests, so it hadn't taken too long before he was ready again.

"Ah, look. Jones even sent her own note." Ben pulled the smaller slip of paper out of the envelope. "Says that there's a school nearby that's willing to take you in January if you're feeling up to it. You should be caught up, or close to it, by then. And Dr. Sayer thinks you'll be more than ready by then."

Alex grinned. "Finally." Going back to a normal school would definitely be nice. His contact with larger groups of people in the last nine months had been severely limited, so it would definitely take some adjusting, but he knew he could do it. He had been able to adjust to everything else, after all.

Luke thumped his head down on the table dramatically. "Happy to be going back to school… what is this world coming to?"

"Says the person that was already studying his textbooks by the time I got out of the hospital." Alex shot back.

"But you're a… a teenager."

"And technically, so are you." Alex just grinned at the annoyed expression on Luke's face. "Besides, I like the subjects I'm studying."

The waiter came at that moment—cutting off any retort from Luke—bringing their drinks and saying that the food would be out shortly.

"If you two are done bickering…" Ben raised his glass toward Alex, grinning at him. "A toast then, to starting over and being normal—no matter how abnormal normal might be."

They all chinked glasses together and Alex couldn't help but grin again. Yes, things were becoming normal again—no matter how abnormal that normal was.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a person sitting behind Ben and Luke raise a glass in his direction, before winking. He recognized the person immediately as Dmitri, and guessed that he was on protection duty for the night. K-unit was quickly reaching the end of their MI6 service, but somehow, Alex wondered if they might be losing another member to the permanent grasp of MI6…

He wasn't unnerved by the visible escort, as he might have once been. Jones had explained, the one time she visited him in the hospital, that even though the majority of the threats were gone, he would still be under observation whenever he went out—just in case. It would likely be that way for many months, she had said, at least for a full year.

Alex couldn't stop another grin from appearing. He wondered who they'd subject to guard duty once he returned to school…

A/N: And that's it folks! The very end of Starting Anew. It's been a long—and fun—ride, and it's somewhat bittersweet to reach the end of the story. I had no idea it would turn out to be this long, and had been aiming for something about half the length… as you can see, that didn't happen.

Just in case you're wondering, Alex gets out of the hospital at the beginning of October. LSE (Luke's university) starts on the second week of October (or thereabouts). So he was in the hospital for about two months, but then he was unconscious for nearly half that time… heh. As of now, I have no plans for a sequel, but perhaps a few ideas for a one-shot or two… we'll see. If you really want a sequel (or a one-shot), tell me your ideas—who knows, I might become inspired by something you say!

Thank you so much for sticking with it, and bringing in the reviews. I never thought my writing would get this kind of response, and you all inspired me so much. I have another full-length idea that I've been toying with since June, so you might see that out in the next couple of months. Or not… it really depends on if I get the inspiration/time to work on it.

One more review request—could you please tell me what you liked, didn't like, or thought I could improve on? Throughout the whole story? Did you like the antagonists? Did it seem too fast paced anywhere? Just give me some general thoughts. I'm always looking for ways to improve my writing.

Thank you again for being such a supportive community!

S.B.L.

P.S. Okay, so I have a one-shot for this story that I'm working on. It should be out by the end of the month (I know, that's a long time, but I'm at University!). So keep your eyes open for The Target!