Title: Tomorrow Comes Today
Summary: Two months into a mission, Alex Rider was declared MIA. Two months after that, he was declared dead. But no one would ever forget that Alex Rider's luck of the devil had kept him alive, against the odds, for over a year previously…
Rating: T for violence/abuse
Disclaimer: Yeah, definitely not British. And I'm female, thanks. Not to mention that I don't even have a copy of Stormbreaker… or Scorpia… or Snakehead… or Scorpia Rising…. In case you didn't get it, I didn't write the Alex Rider series. Title isn't even technically mine, either; it comes from 12 Stones' "Tomorrow Comes Today."
A/N: Okay, so haven't read the books in a while; my apologies in advance if something doesn't line up. Just let me know if you see anything, and I'll attempt to fix it (as long as it doesn't interfere with the plot..). It's not a totally original plot, either; I've seen it done before. But, hopefully, I'll have enough surprises to keep you interested in reading. (Considering I came up with this idea while listening to Saosin's 'Seven Years', you never know what I'll come up with, I guess…) Also, this story assumes that Scorpia Rising happened but that Alex didn't leave to live with the Pleasures afterwards and continued to work for MI6. This chapter is more of a prologue/teaser/preview due to the fact that I have so many on-going fanfictions that I'm unsure when I will continue this, but I just couldn't ignore that little plot bunny… Anyway, you didn't click to listen to me talk; enjoy!
One Month After Alex Rider Was Declared MIA
"How does it feel, little Alex," his captor tormented, "to know that no one is coming for you? MI6, I'm sure, has given up the search by now – long before now!"
Alex glanced down at the floor. He didn't want to admit it, but he knew the man was right; it certainly wasn't the first time MI6 had simply just not sent back-up. He was on his own, just like always. Sure, they would come eventually – he was sure of that; they always did – it was simply a matter of waiting. But the situation still unnerved him; he had sent a distress call over a month ago – it had never taken this long for back-up before. "I wouldn't know," he retorted, resuming eye contact. "They'll come; you just wait. Then you'll be sorry you ever picked a fight with me."
The man cackled. "Really? If I remember correctly, you picked a fight with me. You're the one who tried to infiltrate my 'business.' And you may have faith in your agency now, but let's just see if you still do when, six months from now, you're still here. You see, little Alex, you can't trust anyone – not even the people you work for who are supposed to have your back. They all turn away in the end when it's inconvenient for them to rescue you. You'll see, little Alex; you'll see."
"I don't believe you," Alex maintained in a level tone. It's true, and you know it, a voice in his head whispered. They aren't coming for you. "They'll come."
The man leaned closer until his face was only inches from Alex's. "You keep believing that all you want, but you know I'm right." He's right. "They will never come for you." They aren't coming. "Maybe the Great Alex Rider was worth something to them once, but you're getting too old and too well known to be of any use to them." You have too many enemies now. "Why would they risk so much for so little?" They wouldn't.
Alex turned his gaze away. He didn't want to believe his captor's words. But he already knew the man spoke truth. Cold, hard truth. "You'll see," he barely whispered. "They'll come."
Two Months Later
"Still believe your precious MI6 is going to rescue you, little Alex?" the man taunted from where he stood over the bloodied body of a boy, lying on the floor, breathing hard from the pain and shivering. "Do you still really believe they care anything about getting you back? Think about it: You're Britain's best-kept secret; if you're dead, they don't have to cover you up anymore because there's nothing to cover up. My offer still stands, little Alex; join me! Tell me what you know about MI6, and, together, we can do so much more!"
Alex lifted his head from the floor, glaring daggers at his captor. "Go to Hell. I already know that as soon as you have what you want, you'll kill me. Even if MI6 did abandon me, I'm not telling you anything! That's the coward's way out."
The man frowned. "So be it. It's not my death fast approaching. Your acclaimed 'luck of the devil' has run out, boy. You won't be getting out of this alive – and, rest assured, that it will be a slow and painful death indeed! If, by some miracle, someone were to find your body, there won't be enough left of it to identify you. It's a shame really, to waste someone so talented. But so be it, little Alex; so be it."
A/N: So, I've seen this done, and I kind of like the idea… So: Challenge time!
Who is Alex's captor/tormenter?
In the future I'll have more than one, but since this is so short…
Anyway, thanks for reading, and don't forget to review! =)