Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider.

WITH ALEX:

At some point he knew his uncle had wanted him to be happy, to have a normal life. It was obvious in the simplest ways, not that he could recall them now. He probably wouldn't ever be able to. After all that had happened, everything that had been thrown at him…he'd be lucky to not go insane. The teen found he could barely remember his uncle, even though he was all he had ever known. No parents, no other relatives, few friends. Even fewer close friends, ones he could talk to when his uncle had died.

That had been narrowed down to Tom eventually and sometimes the boy felt bad for his friend. He felt bad thinking of all the things he shoved on his shoulders, the fact that he knew about Alex's work, the fact his best friend would disappear and come back weeks later with some new scar and a ridiculous story about some kind of infection. Tom had to deal with vicious rumors, worry over his friend, and still find time to deal with his own home drama. Alex felt bad for placing the added weight of his own fucked-up existence on his friend's young shoulders. Yet he knew he was glad that he had his friend because if he didn't the teen was sure he would become as cold and emotionless as Blunt.

He didn't know where all of this was coming from really. One minute he was doing a chemistry assignment and the next his head in bowed in his folded arms, silent tears staining his papers and the sleeves of his hoodie.

Upon normal instances he would be worried about Jack coming and finding him; he hadn't ever wanted the red-head to deal with his problems. Now he didn't have to worry about his friend- his sister – coming to check on him. She was dead, gone and left him. Same as his parents, as Ian, as Ash, and as Yassen. Alex didn't blame the American, he never could. He knew she was just an innocent that got caught in the crossfire. Maybe it would have been better if Alex had never said yes to the first mission, let Blunt send Jack back to America, and then live the rest of his school life at some dreadful boarding school.

As much as he wanted to go back and go down that path, he knew he couldn't. Alex had been on too many missions, had lives resting on his shoulders, had the world resting on the outcome of his spy work. Alex thinks to himself, as he cries into his chemistry papers in the silence of his room, that he would have sent Jack to America himself. Yes, that seems most likely. She would be safe, Alex would still go on missions, and the lives that had rested on his shoulders so many times would still be saved. Blunt would be content with screwing his life up and wouldn't even have to go to the trouble of blackmailing him.

Alex wondered if his thoughts could be considered sadistic and self-damning. He wanted to believe he wouldn't throw himself in this situation if he had known but he couldn't believe that. Not in the slightest. Alex was a killer and yet, he was also a saver of lives. He didn't think saving lives erased the bad things he had done, but he knew it was important. What did it matter anyway, he thought. Thinking about 'what ifs' and 'could have beens.' Still the tears feel and although they were silent, Alex felt as if he was making the loudest noises in the world.

As the tears dampened his sleeves, he began to feel the cool material on his arms. Raising his head, he quickly tugged off the hoodie, tossing it somewhere behind him. There were still bruises on his wrists from where the shackles had him chained to the wall. Alex leaned back in his chair, head tilted so his eyes could peer at the ceiling. The tears began to slow and he felt a small chuckle tear from his throat. It was followed by another and another until he was laughing lightly. The laughter grew until it was hindering his breathing and he began to choke, black dots clouding his vision. His laughter cut off abruptly and he struggled for breath, relishing in the sharp pain not having air caused him. As he sat catching his breath, he became aware that everything he ever cared about was gone.

Jack was dead. Ash a traitor. Sabina and her family had moved to California, America for a fresh start and she asked him not to contact her. Tom was refusing to talk to him until he got help. Alex had no idea why he needed help. He'd been taking care of himself on missions for a year. He could stop a virus from killing millions of school children, a madman from bombing Russia, and even stop SCORPIA's evil plots. Did he have any help on those missions? Sure, but most of it was minimal. Practically nonexistent.

He realized with a start just how tired he was. His breathing was back under control and there were no longer dots clouding his vision. Feeling boneless, he stood from his chair and walked to the bathroom connected to his room. Closing the door behind him, he sat on the closed toilet seat with his head bowed in his hands. His fingers inched around to the space between the toilet and the wall. Grasping the knife strapped there, he slipped it out of the sheath it was in. For a minute he sat quietly, no particular thoughts in his mind. Yet at the same time there was a constant buzz that Alex was desperate to get rid of.

How often had he thought of this? Getting rid of his life? Ian had once said it was a coward's way out but Alex found he no longer cared what his uncle thought of him. Maybe, if he had been told the truth by his uncle, things would have been different. The teen used to feel guilty for Ian's death but it had moved on to anger at his uncle for leaving him. Recently it had been shoved away and a film of indifference coated it. I'm so tired, he thought. The knife in his hand was slim and practically weightless. With little thought Alex dug it into his arm, quickly slicing one of the clearest and biggest of his veins. Immediately blood welled and began to drip.

Vaguely Alex realized he'd get everything dirty with his blood so he climbed into the shower. It would be easier to clean out, he reasoned. To make it easier on the future clean-up crew, he started the water to wash the blood away as it leaked out. Not bothering to undress, he settled himself in the corner. After he dragged the knife across his other wrist, hitting yet another artery, he sat back. The knife was set in the bottom of the tub, water washing away the blood quickly. Alex sat with his knees tucked against his chest and his arms wrapped around them tightly, holding them in place. Leaning his head forward, he rested it on his knee, face turned toward the door. As his eyes began to close he smiled.

He didn't feel quite so tired anymore.

THIRD PERSON POV:

The door to the apartment opened quietly. In came four men, all well-built and obviously in high spirits. The first man in flipped on the light, causing the others to curse.

"Bloody hell Wolf, why not blind us all?"

True to his name, a wolfish grin stretched across his lips. With a chuckle he fell into the comfortable grasp of a nearby armchair. He reached for the remote, stopped by one of his friends.

"No way, mate. We're not watching Dr. Who reruns again."

The Scottish-accent sounded slightly amused but also annoyed. Wolf frowned and nodded sullenly, not one to pout. Another man literally bounced to the Scot's side, sitting on the couch next to him.

"What are we gonna watch Snake?"

"I don't know yet."

"Why not?"

"The TV isn't on."

"But you have to have an idea!"

Wolf groaned, his head falling back as he rolled his eyes. The man's energy never ceased to amaze him and to some degrees, annoy him. Snake simply ignored his friends. The last man came in, closing the door and shrugging out of his jacket.

"Calm down Eagle."

The energetic man, deemed Eagle, stuck his lower lip out as he flopped onto the couch dejectedly. Snake raised a brow when his friend stuck his feet in his lap but made no move to remove them, to engrossed in finding a good channel on the TV. The last man, the only still unnamed, hovered at the beginning of a nearby hallway, seemingly contemplating something. Wolf glanced at him.

"Go get Cub and bring him out here, Fox. He's probably been bored out of his skull all day."

Fox nodded, heading down the hall. His three friends went about arguing about the show they were watching while he trekked down the hall. Reaching the last door on the left, he knocked gently. There was no reply, so he knocked again and added a calling.

"Alex?"

No reply yet again. Fox shrugged and opened the door, figuring the teen was listening to his IPod to loud again. However, there was no one in the room. He turned to the bathroom door, listening to the sounds of running water. Walking quickly, Fox rapped on the door twice.

"Alex, the rest of K-unit is here."

There was no reply. Not even a huff of annoyance or a groan at the interruption of his shower. Worry began to fill Fox's veins like cold ice.

"Alex?"

Calling twice more and knocking both times, just to be fair, the man waited impatiently for an answer. Receiving none, he grasped the knob. Not bothering to warn his ward that he was coming in (it was his own fault for not answering his calls) he twisted the knob. It opened easily, something which sent warning bells ringing in Fox's head. Alex never left his door unlocked, he was too cautious. Pushing the door open, Fox froze. Almost immediately he jolted to the tub, switching off the water with one hand and reaching for the teen at the same time.

Oh god, oh god, oh god.

Fox rested a hand against Alex's cheek, feeling the cool skin. Blue tinged his lips and fingernails, effectively snapping Fox to his senses.

"SNAKE!"

As he called for his teammate, the man placed a shaking hand on the teen's head, carding his fingers through the blond locks carefully. He wasn't sure if it was to comfort himself or try and get Alex to wake. In the living room Snake jumped up, causing Eagle's feet to fall off the couch. He sprinted out of the room, Eagle and Wolf hurrying after him at the despair and desperation they heard in their friend's voice. They made it to Alex's room, quickly coming to a stop in shock at the bathroom doorway.

Fox has sitting on the ground, legs folded beneath him. In his lap was Cub, still slightly curled up. Fox had one strong arm wrapped around the teen's shoulders, keeping him upright and tucked against his chest. His free hand was shifting through Cub's hair shakily. There were already tears in his eyes, though he seemed to be holding it together for his ward's sake. Snake immediately snapped into action. Wolf and Eagle could only watch, shocked. Snake turned on them.

"GO! Call an ambulance!"

Eagle turned and tore out of the room, running down the hall to the phone. With sure fingers he typed in 999 and held the phone to his ear.

"Hello, what is your emergency?"

TWO DAYS LATER:

Hospitals were always unwelcome. Even when someone was getting better within the white, bland walls, the hospital was a reminder of the hard times the patient had gone through…why they were there. It didn't help that no matter where you went within the building it smelled like death and strong cleaning supplies, most often bleach. Luckily hospital rooms weren't as bad, especially private ones. Four men, obviously soldiers despite their ruffled and average clothing consisting on jeans, boots, and t-shirts of varying colors, where littered around one of these private rooms.

The one known as Wolf rested in a chair right next to the door, obviously on edge and considering himself the protection for the room. He had a standard issue 9mm Browning pistol strapped to his thigh, indicating they were SAS. Eagle was sitting on the window sill, switching between rubbing his hands together and standing to pace. On the left side of the bed sat Snake, who had his eyes closed but one hand wrapped around the Alex's wrist as though making sure he still had a pulse. On the right was Fox, who had the teen's other hand wrapped between both his. He sat forward in this chair, elbows resting on his knees.

The teen occupying the bed was still unconscious, face smooth and unburdened. His cheeks were a little hollow and his eyes slightly sunken in. The deep purple bags under them only made the fact more obvious. Alex was skinny, the men knew that, but when the doctor had pointed out that you could count his ribs clearly they were startled. They didn't know how- or when -it had gotten so bad. The only obvious injury was his wrists, which were wrapped tightly in thick white gauze.

Another thirty minutes wore on and dusk was approaching. Snake suddenly stirred, eyes opening quickly. He leaned forward in his seat, adjusting his grip on Alex's wrist. The others in the room watched his movements, Eagle coming to stand beside him.

"He's waking up."

Wolf stood, walking to Fox's side. The man was chewing his lip, hands gently rubbing the teen's hand. Eyelashes fluttered against pale skin and weary brown eyes opened. His brow crinkled and his eyes quickly scanned the whole room, taking in everything and everyone. Fox was sad to see that even in such a delicate state, Alex still followed his spy training, falling back into old routine and making sure to mark potential enemies and escape routes.

"Cub?"

It was Snake who spoke first. Brown eyes turned to him, blinking owlishly. Snake's free hand ran through his hair, though he kept a firm grasp on Alex's wrist.

"How are you feeling?"

Alex opened his mouth to reply but coughed instead. It continued for a few moments until he caught his breath, sagging into his pillow. He raised a hand, rubbing his throat gently. Snake nodded.

"Alright."

He stood, turning to Eagle.

"Go get him some water."

"Right."

The usually energetic man walked out of the room quickly. He knew better than to mess with Snake when he was in medic-mode. Besides, he couldn't stand the sight of Cub laying there, all wide eyes and confused looks. Snake grasped Wolf's elbow, taking him out of the room.

"We're going to find Cub's doctor."

The door closed behind them softly. Fox understood what they were doing, giving him a chance to talk to Alex in private. He found he couldn't say anything, even though he knew he had many things to say and so many questions. Biting back a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair. He felt a gentle squeeze on his hand and looked up, catching Alex's gaze.

"B-ben?"

Fox, otherwise known as Ben Daniels, winced openly at the dry, grating sound of his adopted son's voice. Alex tilted his head to the left and Ben knew it was his way of asking what was wrong with the SAS soldier. Ben brushed a stray hair from Alex's eyes, getting a small twitch of a smile as a reward.

"Alex, do you remember what happened?"

Brown eyes clouded over for a moment, the teen obviously thinking. Slowly he nodded, moving his gaze to his lap. Ben bite his lip, half angry with what Alex had done and half regretful for asking about it. Mostly he was just worried and wanting to help the teen he cared for so much.

"Alex?"

He opened his mouth, obviously wanting to speak. With an angry sort of choking sound, as though he were angry with himself, he coughed viciously. Ben gently rubbed his shoulder noticing the small, almost unnoticeable shift of weight on his hand as Alex leaned into the comforting motion. It brought a small smile to his lips.

"I'm…so-orr-y."

It wasn't an explanation, nor was it the answer to any of Ben's question. Yet he could hear the sincerity, see the sadness, feel the reliance. Ben knew it wasn't enough. He knew Alex, and the rest of the K-unit, was going to have a long road ahead of them. That was okay though, he decided.

It was a start.

END OF STORY

Okay, so this is my first Alex Rider fic. I don't know where this came from, I was just lying in bed and the words just seemed to flow. This is extremely raw, as in I spell-checked and tried to think about grammar as I typed but not much else. I didn't re-read it before I posted it. So if any of you notice glaringly obvious mistakes, please let me know. I hope you all like it.

Oh and the title is from a Korn song, called Another Brick in the Wall. So disclaimer to the title I suppose?

Review?

Eris-R-Renee