Just a Bad Dream

Present Day

Alex Rider didn't expect to be sent back to Brecon Beacons after his last mission. He really didn't think it went that badly, but Blunt had other ideas. The man had told him he was getting sloppy, and he needed more training. Alex thought it was rather blunt of him, considering he didn't want to be a part of any of this in the first place. Of course Alex had expressed this. The teen had yelled at the very grey man for at least ten minutes before giving up, realising he wasn't even going to get a reaction from the emotionless mask in front of him, let alone a ticket out of MI6. Alex decided it wasn't worth anymore fight, especially for the fact that he had little fight left in him, with his outburst leaving him with a pounding headache.
The boy walked out of the Royal and General Bank, careful to avoid a specific spot on the pavement like he always does. He knows if someone were to try to assassinate him again, walking around one small spot would do nothing for him, but it still settles some small part of his mind. He made his way home slowly, using up as much time as possible before the same black Sedan with tinted windows stopped by his house for the umpteenth time. The boy made his way along the pavement, absorbing the last remnants of the gentle morning sun, before making his way up to his front door. Unease settled in Alex's gut as he noticed the door was slightly ajar. Alarm bells rang through his head, Jack shouldn't be home yet, and he was sure he had locked it on his way out. Alex evened out his breathing and listened for any noise coming from within the house. Not sure whether to be satisfied or anxious of the lack of noise, the teen silently slipped inside the house, steering clear of the creaky floorboards he had previously mapped out. The ability to create absolutely no noise was one Alex had mastered, but in the world of espionage that was a mediocre skill to have.
The boy checked all the rooms downstairs and found no one, not even a single object moved out of place. Alex knew better than to think he was safe just because he found nothing suspicious. Something the teen had developed over his short period of time in the spy world is a gut feeling. Everyone has this, but many make the mistake to ignore it, write it off as paranoia. Alex knows in his new life that ignorance of that small feeling can bring you to your grave. Many believe it is unreliable, something that just leads you into doing stupid things, just feeding your fear and uncertainty. Alex is yet to have his gut instinct indicate at nothing. It has saved him too many times to count. Everyone in the spy world knows Alex should be dead. It should be impossible to evade the hands of death the amount of times this young boy has, and yet he continues to push on through, teasing the devil who wants him ever so badly.
Padding his way upstairs quietly, almost like he was a ghost, just floating above the ground, gliding smoothly to his destination. The boy's gut feeling only grew stronger with every step he took, almost like rising up the stairs heightened his unease physically. Alex could feel his heart trying to punch its way through his ribcage and out through his chest as he made his way to the first room on the left, his room. He opened the door quickly, leaving his combatant no more time to react than he did. The teen entered the room raising his makeshift weapon he snagged from the umbrella holder at the front door on his way in. No one. The teen carefully checked his room for any signs of activity. Nothing.
Alex made his way back into the hallway and went to the next room, Jack's. He went through the same procedure, finding nothing and no one. Same thing happened with the bathroom, Ian's room and his office. Finding nothing didn't ease Alex's gut feeling, it just made it stronger. Something was off, he was sure of it.
A yell from downstairs snapped the teen out of his thoughts. He quickly made his way downstairs with the grace of a cat. He was greeted with the smile of his housekeeper and best friend Jack Starbright. The young American woman was in her twenties, her red hair slightly dishevelled, as if she had just got out of bed.
"Hey Alex, you're home early", she said while grabbing a glass of water. "I thought you were hanging out with Tom today?"
Alex never remembered planning to hang out with Tom, last he heard Tom was in Italy visiting his brother. "Did I say that?"
"Yeah you told me before you left this morning", the young woman said, concern now exchanged for her bright smile. It wasn't like Alex to forget things, especially something from mere hours ago.
"Oh", was all Alex managed, still feeling increasingly apprehensive. The boy still felt as if something was off. "When did you even get home? Shouldn't you be at work? I didn't even hear your car"
"I don't have work today, it's Sunday"
Now the teen just felt even more troubled. If she has been home all day that means he managed to miss her car in the drive. Alex couldn't help but agree with Blunt, he was getting sloppy. That doesn't explain why he didn't see Jack anywhere as he searched the house. "Well where have you been, you weren't inside when I got home?"
"Oh I was outside searching the car for my earring", somehow the red head looked even more concerned. "I said hi, I thought you heard me?"
Now Alex just felt sick. He was never so oblivious to his surroundings. Was he really like this on his last mission? Did he miss something that the other agent didn't, making Blunt send him back to the SAS camp he got bullied at the entire time he was there?
"Alex are you okay?", the simple question caused the teen to jump slightly. He had been so lost in thought he forgot Jack was there.
"Yeah I'm fine", the lie flowed easily from his mouth. One he had told many times before. "By the way I'm going back to Brecon Beacons for a bit"
"What! Why?", anger quickly consumed the Americans face, diminishing any concern that was there before.
"Apparently I'm getting sloppy"
"You're getting sloppy because you are a tired teenage boy who needs to rest and actually recover from all the abuse you have been forced to put yourself through!"
It isn't often that Alex gets to see his housekeeper mad. Jack is like a sister to Alex. She has been there through everything, and never failed to cheer him up when he is sad, entertain him when he is bored, make him laugh after a bad day. She never raises her voice, but recently it has become more frequent. And it is all because of a certain bank.
"Yeah well that just sounds like excuses to Blunt"
"God I hate that man"
"At least I will be out of the field for a bit", Alex said, trying to lighten the mood.
Jack just sighed. Alex watched acceptance wash over her face. Jack has always fought for Alex, even when it comes to the head of MI6, but she knows it's useless. Besides, Alex is right. It keeps him out of the field, and more importantly out of danger.
"How long are you going for?", Jack sighed in defeat, her shoulders slumping just slightly.
"I don't know", shrugged Alex. He really hopes it isn't for too long. The men there don't exactly enjoy having him there. And pushing his body to the limit isn't really on his agenda. "Anyway", Alex continued, after a long silence. "I better get packing, they will be here for me soon"
The teen headed back upstairs and went straight to the bathroom. He splashed cold water on his face, hoping to clear his mind a little. It's barely noon and he is already sick of the day. How could he miss Jack's car in the drive? How could he miss Jack talking to him? He really did need training.
Alex made his way to his room and grabbed his black duffel bag, filling it with all the necessities. It didn't take long. The SAS usually provide most things, and Alex isn't staying for long so there was no need to bring anything sentimental.
Packing sucked a lot of energy out of the boy, for reasons he can't explain. He had been feeling weaker and sore recently and he doesn't even know why. Maybe that's why he is not so alert. Whatever it is, it needs fixing. If he makes any of the mistakes he did today in the field, he would die without a doubt. Death doesn't care how old you are. Death craves those mistakes so it can grab you with two hands and never let go. Death loves all and takes all.