The Book of Sad

Chapter 8: Albert Bridge

Disclaimer: I do not own Alex Rider and crew. They belong to Anthony Horowitz. The only thing mine is some of the plot and the OCs. Enjoy!

February 13th, 1987 (Continued)

"Wow, H, he's amazing, congratulations," He really is. Alex is adorable, "How are you feeling?"

"Exhausted, Ian, I got about two hours of sleep. Alex was born around at 2:35 last night."

"It figures that John Rider's son would be born on a Friday the 13th," I joke. Helen flashes me a tired smile. I look over at John. "Is he okay? It looks like he passed out after a few too many drinks."

"He's fine. Exhausted, probably. He said traffic was horrible getting here. He made it just in time to see me in the delivery room."

"Yeah, he ran right into me," I laugh.

John stirs. "What's going on?"

"Nothing, honey, go back to bed. I was just showing Ian the baby."

"He's great, right?" John sits up, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"I mean, he looks just like you, the poor kid," I tease my brother.

John just chuckles softly, too tired to make a comeback. He gets up slowly and walks over to me, giving me a 'bro-hug.' "Congrats, man. He's great." I tell my brother.

"Thanks, Ian, so much for helping us out throughout Helen's pregnancy. I heard what happened yesterday, what with the panic attacks and all, but you were still willing to help out, Thank you, little brother."

"It's no problem," I say, even though it kind of was.

"No," John says. A single tear runs down his left cheek, "You were there for Helen and Alex when I couldn't be, I will be forever grateful to you."

"John, really-" I say, getting a little choked up myself.

"Ian, when the time comes, we want you to be Alex's godfather," Helen tells me, smiling.

By now, I'm fully crying. "How can your son, John, be a Child of God, when his father has the Luck of the Devil?"

At this point, John and I are choking. The laughing so hard we can't breathe mixed with the bawling combination isn't a good one.

"What?" Helen asks, clearly confused, "Luck of the Devil?"

John and I shut up quickly, not wanting to have to explain that one to his wife.

"It's, um, it's a joke," I say, stumbling over my words, "From when John and I were kids."

John shoots me a glance, saying That works, and Helen nods, accepting this half-assed explanation. There's no way in hell that John and I want to get into our jobs and into what situations that John's Luck of the Devil saved his ass.

I decide to change the subject. "Really, guys, it's an honor. I'd love to be Alex's godfather." I reach over to hug Helen. Alex's eyelids flutter open, and I'm greeted with big brown eyes. It's shocking to see eyes that haven't been hardened from a life of seeing too much and secrecy. Baby Alex's eyes are full of innocence, and I never want to see that change.

February 28th, 1987

John is finally back to work after his paternity leave. He could have taken more time off, but he wanted to get back. Blunt calls us into his office. Next to him are two people. One is a young woman with dark skin and long, straight jet black hair. The other is a man with short light brown hair, worried eyes, and anxiety creased across his tired face.