Hey guys! So, I'm back with a new story. Yes, I know I should be working on The TomandKunit Chronicles, but this just popped into my mind. Enjoy!
After Scorpia Rising.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the plot.
Mrs. Jones looked out of the window of her office, absent-mindedly fingering a piece of peppermint in one hand and holding an elegant wine glass with the other. It was a beautiful night: stars were twinkling in the dark velvet sky, with the moon peeking out of a tall office building down the road. The streetlamps that dotted the road in two, orderly rows were bathing everywhere with an earthly glow, while late-night weekend shoppers littered the streets, waving to each other and laughing. She watched everything like a silent movie, the thick glass reflecting any noise so that she could work in peace. She needed the peace more than ever now, for she had to deal with a very problematic and headache-inducing challenge.
Even the mere word brought on a wave of discomfort in her gut. After the Pleasures were assassinated, he cracked. Having attempted to end his life countless times, he had to have at least two agents guard him every night. He could never be left alone; every single thing could be used as a weapon of self-harm. It was too painful to look into those dead eyes, to hear his flat voice, to see his dead feet being dragged ever so slowly along the ground. Honestly, he looked and sounded, in every aspect, like a zombie. It wasn't because his attire was messy- in fact, he still managed to look well-groomed somehow- but it was his expression and actions. It scared her. She had never seen anyone so willing to end their life and to join their loved ones, even if it meant never walking on the face of the earth again. The Boys' Home had rejected him- he was too much for them- and he refused to let his best friend's parents take him in, or see anyone. He was tutored privately. That was the strange thing- he was so eager to die, yet he kept up his exercise and excelled in his studies. It was like his head was tampered with, messed up. She had suspected psychological torture during Alex's time with Scorpia, but dismissed the thought afterwards. After all, Alex had only turned suicidal when the Pleasures died.
Mrs. Jones set her wine glass on the table. She had meant it to be a relaxing night, having pushed all her paperwork to the other side of the room, blocking the door; but it seemed Rider always strayed to her mind, every minute of the day. She never wanted this; it was all Blunt's fault. She was glad he was gone, but then again, she never wanted anything to do with Rider again unless he healed and regained his will to live. It was disgusting, how the innocent teenager had been placed in danger time and again, with the survival of millions resting on his shoulders every time. He had done so much for the country-no, the world- and what did he get? All his loved ones were killed by the very ones he went up against, and resorting to self-harm to get away from it all. MI6 had shown once again that they were incompetent of protecting innocent people, and she was sure that Alex would never forgive them.
There were only two choices for Alex right now: send him to a well-protected place surrounded by professionals with enough ability to coach, counsel and instill discipline in him, or just allow him to die. It was a tough choice. Dying was definitely easier, but she knew that he deserved more than death for what he had been through. And so, with this last thought in mind, she called up the Sergeant of the SAS training camp at Brecon Beacons. She could only hope that it worked on Alex. She knew that she was taking a huge gamble, but what more could she do? They had run out of options.
She grimaced, and steadied herself for the call. It was not going to be a pleasant one.
So, that's it for the first chapter! I hope you will review and tell me if it's good. I'm sorry it's so short; I'm trying to see if it's well-received or just a total flop.