Self-Destruction Made Easy: An Alex Rider Fanfiction

Who Is This Kid?

 To all of the people who have been waiting for this, even if it's just one person, I am terribly sorry for taking so long to update this story. I've been trying to make this chapter sound right in my head and it took a while, and I'm still not really satisfied, but I swear the next chapter will be better. I've edited this more times than I can count, so if it sounds odd that's probably why. Once again, I am terribly sorry,

-Panic!

Previously: The man in the corner now known as Bucky spoke no words, only stared at Alex with distrust, just like the red-headed woman, and the man next to her. He quickly assumed them to be higher threats, as they seemed smarter and put his guard up. Then Steve grabbed the bag from the fridge.

He didn't know why he flashed back, he supposed it may have been talking about sensitive topics in the interview, or how tired he was, he wasn't sure. All he knew was that it happened. And it wasn't fun. It all started because of that stupid bag. At least he knew that.

Flashback: Sitting in the interrogation room was daunting, especially because it was pitch black. He was strapped down to a chair and left there for hours on end. Before he could register the noise from behind him, a plastic bag was forced down on his head. He could vaguely hear his attackers laughing at how he fought and struggled to breathe. His lungs felt like they were collapsing in on themselves, straining for breath, for air. His chest gave little spasms of protest as he tried to breath, but was only met with plastic. As he struggled, the bonds cut into his wrists and shins, making them bleed. Slowly but surely his range of vision became even more black and it didn't matter if he escaped or not. He was going to die here anyway. His thoughts crashed into one another and his mind became muddled. And then, he passed out.

He sharply inhaled as an apple hit him in the face. It hurt like hell but he barely flinched, he was still engulfed in his thoughts.

"Woah, kid, are you ok?" Tony exclaimed.

"In my defense, I warned him. But I did throw it really hard, sorry Alex." Steve interjected.

"Oh yeah, I'm ok. I barely noticed." He laughed nervously. Then Natasha spoke up. Or at least that's what he thought her name was.

"Alex, it's already starting to bruise, are you sure?" Despite looking like an uncaring strict woman, Natasha did care. Somehow.

"I-I'm fine" He stuttered out. Cue more nervous laughter. Alex picked up the apple and held it in his hand.

"Alright, whatever you say," Steve nonchalantly commented. Tony kind of wanted to pursue the issue, but he didn't.

"Ok, your first assignment is due this evening. Um..." He coughed. "all you have to do is file a few things, no big deal. Most of them are sorted by equation, but a few of them are filed by chemical compounds so you may have to devise a new sorting system. If you do, be sure to write a report. Actually, Peter why don't you help him." The youngest in the room, Peter, got up and walked over to him.

"Hi! I'm Peter!" A sickeningly, aggressively happy introduction. Splendid. Alex smiled and stuck out his hand. Peter took it and shook. He had a surprisingly strong handshake for such a weak-looking kid.

Four hours later and they had finished the filing. It took a while because, as Mr. Stark had predicted, it had needed a whole new filing system. But it was nice to get to know Peter a little bit. He said he was 17, so Alex's age, and, fun fact, he was also Spider-man. Alex was impressed, but Peter made a joke about how he kinda expected him to fan-boy. Alex didn't know where he got the impression he was that kind of person. He knew it wasn't his stunning personality. Learning about Peter's "tragic backstory" was also interesting. It was a lot like his own, but not really.

In turn, Alex told him about the normal life he had made up. Of course, it was relevant to the file MI6 had given Mr. Stark, and of course Tony didn't know it was fake or from MI6. Anyway, when Peter inevitably told Mr. Stark about the conversation, it would all check out. Apparently, he had a dead mother and his father was still around but a drunk. His primary caretaker was his older brother who was 19. He guessed it was supposed to be as realistic as possible, without having everyone he cared about dead.

-Tony's Pov-

"Who-sorry-What was that?" Clint commented as soon as Alex and Peter left the room.

Tony had no clue. He seemed nice, even if he was a bit twitchy and uncomfortable the entire time. The seven people in the room were quiet, contemplating the new secretary for much too long.

Clint turned to Natasha, "He worked for Royal And General. Do you think that has to do with anything?"

She nodded. "It may, but he's only seventeen. It's against the law to hire anyone below the age of 20. I mean, he's mastered multiple forms of self-defense, and is technologically advanced, as well as scientifically. Not to mention he's fluent in four languages and has a rough knowledge of a few more. So maybe."

"Hold on? What in the hell are you talking about? Royal And General is a BANK, and last time I checked it was legal to hire kids to work at banks. Not common, but definitely legal." Tony stated, exasperated and confused.

"For safety's sake," Nat began, "we shouldn't tell you. Let's just say, if he has worked for them, it would explain a lot about what we just saw."

Steve interrupted, "What? Do you mean the obvious flashback?" He bit down on an apple.

Tony finally got it. "Wait, are you seriously insinuating that a seventeen-year-old has PTSD that could be from war? That's outrageous." He put his head in his hands.

"Not war Tony, but close to it," Clint sighed. "It looks as if he was a....secret agent. It sounds silly, but it makes sense. Not to mention he's British and the Royal and General is the headquarters for MI6. It makes sense once you connect the dots. He couldn't get comfortable, he was always in a defensive position, his eyes darted around the room, and the biggest red flag, he saw the look we shared when you mentioned Royal and General and immediately tensed up. Oh and the blatantly obvious flashback in the middle of a conversation. Poor kid..."

"So what do you suggest we do? Confront him?" Bruce queried, speaking up after a long period of silence.

"We...can't, " Natasha wearily admitted. "I doubt he's on a mission, and he's probably trying to earn an honest living. We can't judge a person we don't know very well. Besides, it may rehash a bunch of stuff. And, if he doesn't include any of us in it, it's entirely his business. We don't have the right to intrude."

Tony's eyes went wide. "So we're just going to ignore the fact the government is illegally using a teenager for their own selfish purposes? They've obviously scarred him mentally and made a lasting impact on his mental health. We can't let them continue to use him. I'll call Fury, see what he can do."

"Calm down Tony." Clint deadpanned. "We don't know if any of these speculations are correct. Besides, the keyword within that statement is 'government'. We can't do shit about what the government does, whether it be illegal or immoral. They hold too much power over us and can easily deny any accusations, whether they are true or false. Not to mention, Fury can't do anything about it. We can only wait and see what happens. But, don't get me wrong, I will jump at the chance to give the people responsible a taste of their own medicine. This line of work...it can really fuck with people's minds, tear them to pieces, rip them apart. If it gets intertwined with personal stuff, people you love could die. I don't wanna imagine what happened to the kid to make him like that. I fear existing like that. Empty, hurt, having the people you work for in control of your life, for better or worse..."

Tony was defeated. He wanted to call Fury, even though it sounded pointless. He supposed Clint was right though...without proof, there was nothing he could do.