Yay! I finally finished this! *does happy dance* I'm really sorry about the wait I put you guys through, I really didn't expect to take this long. Anyways, I do not own Alex Rider. Now fasten your seat belts, it's gonna be a bumpy ride! (Don't you just love Harry Potter? *pause* Okay, so I don't love it that much anymore ever since I found Percy Jackson, Alex Rider, and a lot more series that I prefer, but you get my point. Also, I've always thought the night bus was pretty cool.)

Thanks to everyone who reviewed These Hands Are Made For Tickling.

I am using everyone's code names for this fanfic.

I Never Break My Promises

"See you guys later!" Wolf called as he turned and walked into his apartment building.

All of K- and D-Units had just gone out for a bit of partying. The eight men had gone out to celebrate Jag's 25th birthday, and Fox had been elected designated driver. The others had all had one or two drinks, except for Jag, who decided to play it smart. Of course, thirty-one year-old Fox didn't want Jag to drive his 'baby', even though it was the young man's birthday. Fortunately for Fox, Jag didn't really care. He said, and I quote, 'I really don't care that much, Fox. Honestly, she's a right beat up car. You're acting like Chet from the Hardy Boys*.'

Now, only Fox and Jag were left. Jag was stuck in the backseat because Lion had taken shotgun, and Fox, of course, was in the driver's seat.

The two friends waved after Wolf until he disappeared inside the brown building. Fox gunned the engine again, making a sound rather like a cat having a hairball.

Jag winced and dramatically covered his ears, crying, "Make it stop, Fox! Make it stop!"

Fox started to drive toward their shared house (the units didn't want Jag alone) before he rolled his eyes and replied, "Oh, shut it, Jag. You know you love her."

"Yeah, sorry to burst your bubble, Fox, but I'll love this old, broken down car when pigs fly."

Fox grinned at him and pointed to a pink pig with wings that was hanging from the rearview window.

This time, it was Jag who rolled his eyes, saying, "I meant real pigs, Fox. Ya know, big, fat, smelly pigs** who are actually living and breathing, not just some plastic old thing that's been in this car since before you were born."

Fox did his best to pout, shooting hurtful eyes into the mirror at Jag, but being careful not to turn around, therefore taking his eyes all the way off of the road. "Don't insult Wilbur, Jag. You know he doesn't like it. You should also know that bad stuff happens when you do."

"Whatever, Fox. Although I have to admit, he's got the smelly part down pat."

"What did I say about insulting Wilbur?" Fox shrieked, forgetting about not taking his eyes off the road.

In that one instant, another car roared around the corner they were approaching, shooting into the opposite lane. The lane that Fox and Jag were in. The lane that Fox wasn't watching. The lane that would, in two seconds, become the area of a car crash.

Fox's heart almost stopped when he saw Jag's eyes widen, going from the playful, bright, brown eyes he knew to terrified, scared, brown eyes. He heard his friend yell for him to swerve, to do something, anything, but he couldn't. Fox didn't even have enough time to turn around before he felt a shudder run through his car and it was pushed to the edge of the road, overturning twice before settling down.

Those ten seconds, when Fox's life was turned upside down, were the longest seconds in his life. He could hear people screaming, and, somewhere deep in his mind, he knew the people were Jag and himself. He heard a crunching sound and watched as the trees on the side of the road loomed closer and closer. The car windows shattered, sending glass over the riders and the street. Fox could hear the roar of other cars swerving to avoid the crash, the slamming of car doors as people rushed to see if they were alright. Finally, when Fox thought it would never end, it did. The car came to rest against a tree that forced a dent into the side of the blue car.

Fox lay there, stunned, before the terror began to fill him. He could feel the stickiness of his own blood on his head from where he had banged it against the steering wheel. Pain was pulsing through his left arm, and he couldn't see through the haze that had become his life. Darkness surrounded him, but he knew he wasn't dead because of the pain or blind because of a sliver of light that he could barely see. He was barely conscious, but, even though he knew he probably wouldn't die- he wasn't that badly injured; Fox knew he was forgetting something.

The man racked his mind for a few minutes before he remembered. Jag! Fox knew he would never forgive himself if the kid died. What a nice birthday present you've given him, Fox couldn't help but think sarcastically. All of the terror had now left him. Jag's safety came first. He could panic later. That sure would be something, panicking when he was safe.

Brown, pain-filled eyes searched through the darkness, trying to find the other set of eyes Fox so wished to find. Finally, he figured that he was probably facing the wrong direction, and did his best to turn around without letting out any sounds of pain. He knew that Jag would then put his safety first, instead of his own. Fox couldn't let that happen. Of course, he sighed, Jag would put Fox's safety before his own even if Jag was on the brink of death and Fox was perfectly healthy. It took the man another few minutes, but he finally did it.

There was just one problem. There were no brown eyes. He carefully felt in front of him and came to the conclusion that he was facing the right way. Fox could now here sounds coming from outside the car, but they came in as if from a distance.

"Jag?" Fox asked carefully. "Jag, are you there? Are you okay?"

Fox didn't get what he wanted at all. He had wanted Jag to sarcastically respond with, 'Of course I'm okay, Fox! I just went through a car crash, but I'm feeling just dandy! Would you like to have some tea while we wait to be rescued?' What he got was a groan.

Then, finally, Jag spoke, "I'm here, Fox."

Those three words stabbed at Fox right in his heart. Not because they were there, that was good, but because they were filled with pain.

Fox's eyes adjusting to the darkness didn't help matters any, either. If anything, it just made it worse. This was because Jag looked like a bad word that Fox had been forbidden to say. Jag's eyes were filled with pain, and you could see it in his body posture, as well. His entire body was tense with pain, and what Fox could see didn't look good. Jag's right leg was bent in a position that it shouldn't be, so it was obviously broken. Blood also covered Jag's left arm, and Fox was willing to bet that there was a gash on it from something in the car. He was also breathing heavily, and there was no doubt that at least one of Jag's ribs had been broken or cracked.

Jag glared at him when he caught sight of Fox's worried gaze. Fox couldn't help but smile. If Jag could still beat Wolf's glare while he was injured, then it couldn't be too bad.

Fox cleared his throat before speaking, "I'm sorry, Jag."

"There's nothing to be sorry for." Jag grunted, refusing to let Fox take any of the blame.

"No, Jag, I really am sorry. But we'll make it out. We'll be okay. Both of us. I promise."

"You shouldn't make promises you can't keep." Jag whispered, so quietly that Fox only barely managed to hear it.

Fox himself just bowed his head and prayed. He'd never broken a promise before, never. He was just hoping that this wouldn't be the one promise he did break. If that happened... He didn't want to think about it.

The first sound of them being rescued- really being rescued, not just people starting- started about an hour later. Fox knew that that was because several things had to be done, and their rescuers had to be careful about what they did do, but he couldn't help but feel resentful. There they were, outside and feeling perfectly okay, no pain at all, and here he and Jag were, laying here with multiple injuries. It just wasn't fair.

But, of course, Fox knew he was being silly. They were no doubt really stressed out outside. Not to mention, either he or Jag would occasionally make a painful moan or two when something that wasn't meant to be moved was. That was bound to make it hard for the rescuers.

Finally, after an hour and thirteen minutes trapped inside, light began to shine through as one final piece of metal was moved aside. A man with brown hair and worried, soft, blue eyes peered inside before his eyes alighted on Fox.

"I can see one!" The man called behind him. "Hi, my name is Noah. Can you see and hear me alright?"

Fox nodded before rasping out, "I can see and hear you."

Noah allowed a grin of relief to slip past his worried features before asking, "Is it just you, or is-"

"My friend is in here with me. He's in the back." Fox interrupted him.

Noah nodded and asked, "Is he alright?"

"I'm fine." Jag snapped. "Don't talk about me like I'm not here."

Noah blinked, shocked at how Jag had spoken to him. "Er, is he-"

Fox shook his head. "He's not okay. He only gets really grumpy like this when he's upset or hurt. And I mean really upset or hurt."

"F-Ben!" Jag complained, only just calling his friend Ben. Good thing I know his real name, he thought.

Fox managed to shoot a worried look at Jag, knowing he normally wouldn't make a mistake like that. Noah looked curiously at the two, as if wanting to know more, but let it be.

The blue-eyed man, who looked about thirty or so, maybe a little older, carefully extracted his head. Fox could hear him talking to the other rescuers. Probably about how many people there are and how to get us out, he reckoned.

He assumed that he was correct, because the words he did manage to catch went like this, "Yeah, ... injured... two... know... sorry... wait... up!"

The last word made Fox confused, because it sounded as if Noah had just told someone to shut up. Huh, he mused, sounds like even rescuers can be annoying at times.

Then, finally, Fox was being maneuvered out of the car with Noah's supervision. Careful, don't hurt him, and more words escaped Noah's lips throughout the entire process.

But Fox couldn't rest easy until Jag was out. That took a little bit longer than it did with Fox, but he was told that that was because Jag was wedged in pretty tightly, so they had to go slower and more carefully. The paramedics had also tried to get Fox to the hospital, but the latter refused. He knew Jag was worst off than him, and he wouldn't budge until the younger man was being seen to. It did, of course, make the paramedics frustrated, but, as Jag would say, that was what Fox lived for.

Fox breathed a sigh of relief from where he was laying on the stretcher- the one thing the paramedics could get him to agree to- when he saw Jag being removed from the wreck. In Jag's hand was a small, pink pig with wings. Fox stared curiously at it. Jag had always hated the pig more than the car, and that Jag had rescued it meant something was up. Well, something besides the sky, moon, and stars.

It wasn't until the two were situated in the ambulance that Fox asked his friend why he'd rescued the pig.

Jag looked at him and replied, "Because, I figured this would teach you a lesson. Whenever you disagree with me, I'll show you Wilbur, and then you'll see what happens. Well," Jag frowned, "it's either that, or I'm burning him. Did you see what he did to us?"

Fox shrugged (as best he could), and said, "Burn him. I'll host a party just for it."

Anyone, even Eagle and Monkey, could see that Fox had lost all love for the little creature since the wreck.

"By the way," Jag said, frowning thoughtfully like he did when something interested him, "how did you know we'd be okay? That we'd be rescued?"

"Huh?" Was Fox's intelligent answer.

"In the car, you promised we'd make it out, and that we'd be okay. How'd you know?"

Fox smiled. He couldn't believe it had worked. Of course, they may have been okay even without the promise, but he'd had to do it, just in case.

"I never break my promises."

Over 2,000 words, not counting the title and ANs! I'm so happy!

* I love the Hardy Boys, don't you? By the way, I do have some Hardy Boys fics on my profile if any of you want to check them out. *hint*hint*shove*shove*

** Okay, so yes, I do love pigs, but this is how Jag is retaliating. Sorry to the pig lovers.

And this makes two of the three companion stories I owe you guys. I'm really sorry it took so long for me to get up, and I'm sorry to say I haven't even started on the last one.

So how did Fox know they'd be rescued, just because of that promise?

Please review!