Hi, I started on an Alex Rider fic back when I was in London cause dam that was one inspiring city. Anyway, here it is. Hope you like it. The first few chapters have been sitting in my computer for a while. Never Say Die is coming soon and what better way to celebrate than to post this.

Edited: I asked Little_Shush to britpick this story and she did a great job in explaining British culture and school system and it was crazy, like learning another language crazy but it's some extra knowledge to add to my belt of random facts. Also, I hopefully able to make this story a lot more believable. Do tell me what you think.

Alex was once a top student. He was the type of student teachers would bring up during faculty meetings when talking about potential and bright futures.

He had lines of 6's gracing his end of school year reports and frequent one on ones with teachers who urged him to take extracurricular activities or to start picking colleges even at his age. He was well-liked by the student body and had leadership potential. He had also proved to be a force to be reckoned with when he first started training with their football team.

That was before MI6.

After MI6, everyone assumed Alex was a poor boy who lost his way after losing his uncle and succumbed to drugs. One student swore he saw Alex biking after Skoda, their resident drug dealer's car and it spread like wild-fire among the students and inevitably among the teachers too. Some teachers tried to reach out at first and attempted to talk to the young boy in between classes during the few days that he was in school. Most teachers decided though that Alex seemed cold and disinterested most times. When Mr. Donovan, their maths teacher, asked him about his first doctor's note which mentioned a flu, he had tried to press him for more details, Alex did not budge, insisting that it was only a flu and eventually he gave up.

The beauty of the British educational system is that it does not put much bearing on year 9. Key Stage 3 exams are purely held to gauge the standard of education for the important GCSE years. Because of this, Alex was promoted to year 10 with no problems. The unfortunate side to this was Alex was below what his teachers had expected.

As students get promoted, teachers also change.

Mr. Owen Jacobs, a young blond who had taken on the role as their new Science teacher and he had been interested in Alex's case since he had heard the teachers talking about his possible descent into drug addiction last term. He had tried to talk to him the week he came back after summer break. At first, the teacher had intended to keep his distance, watching Alex from afar, hoping the therapy Miss Bedfordshire said he was going through would show its effects. That was until he heard about Alex's disappearance during the school trip to Venice and decided some more intervention might help.

Their first week back at school after the trip, Alex did not show up. On the first day Alex showed up after vacation, Jacobs approached him. The latter looked like he was in a hurry. He was about to mount his bike, his book bag on the basket. The bag looked bulky, filled to the brim probably with books and homework. He knew Alex was struggling to catch up after missing the whole first week of class.

"Monday morning, I'll meet you in the faculty room before eight." Alex assured his teacher that Friday afternoon. "I'm sorry, I have to finish these plus the problem set you gave me." The way Alex addressed him was too respectful, too stressed, too urgent, a far cry from what one would expect from a delinquent or disinterested student. Mr Jacobs could not help but be surprised when Alex did not show up early that Monday morning.

He must have overslept. Jacobs thought, both disappointed and hurt that he was stood up by one of his students. Also, one teacher who had halfheartedly told him not to expect Alex to show up had been proven right. He was one of the many teachers who had seen Alex's potential when the boy first entered Brookland Comprehensive and at the same time, one of the few teachers who still believed that the problem with Alex could still be sorted out. He made a mental note to talk to Alex when the boy finally showed up to school again and give him an earful. Alex though, did not show up to school the whole day, and the whole week, and the week after that and Mr Jacob's mental note silently slipped out of his mind. Little did he know that Alex was in the hospital recovering from a bullet wound.

In the end, Alex had missed his whole autumn term, only showing up during the last week of classes to take mock exams which by god's grace and some luck, he managed to pass.

Only barely though. The teachers all thought when they met during the deliberation of grades. His grades were mid fives on an average. Teachers could not believe that he had scored level 6s at the start of the year. .

All the teachers had already given up on reaching out to Alex Rider halfway through the autumn term and had become desensitized to the numerous excuse notes they have received. Only a few of the teachers tensing in their heads whether the excuses written in the excuse slips were even realistic.

"It's signed by a doctor, so it must be true." They had all thought to themselves at one point.

Some teachers have started to treat his frequent absences and ridiculous excuses as a joke and made thoughtless comments here and there, especially when Alex wasn't there to hear it.

Miss Elder, their second year Maths teacher, had been the first. "See kids, don't take drugs. It's bad for the appendix." She joked when Jack had stopped by to drop his excuse note saying he was in the hospital 'with appendicitis.'

"Had a brawl with some of your 'friends'?" Mr Jacobs had jokingly asked when Alex entered the classroom in crutches after his mission in Nairobi and his brief hospitalization thereafter.

With grades he would have never allowed himself to have gotten years ago, Alex's future was starting to look bleak, to his teachers that is. Alex was sure that MI6 was just waiting for him to turn eighteen so they can recruit him full time. For Alex though, that was just a back-up plan and one he didn't want to have to rely on. He knew he'd probably end up having to do a few missions here and there but to have to dedicate his whole life to it? He'd probably go crazy.

His only goal then was to get a good college, have the job security of a 9-5 desk job and in the later future, have a family. With that goal set in stone, Alex was more determined than ever. That determination was what drove Alex to take the tube to Liverpool street one Saturday morning in early April, to the office he knew so well on an impulse (not to mention, uninvited) after receiving his latest grade report.

"This whole year was a joke!" Alex said as he stormed into Blunt's office and slammed a piece of paper on their table.

"What's this?" Blunt asked as he scanned the paper. "Mock exam results?" Even the ever so stoic Blunt could not hide his confusion when Alex suddenly visited

"I only showed up for two weeks the entire autumn term, I missed my first few weeks this term and this is what happened."

"What do you expect us to do about it? You must have come here, waving your bad grades around our office during office hours for a reason right?" Mrs. Jones asked as she took the paper from Blunt and read through it.

''They're this low because I didn't get to go to class the whole of last term, also, the GCSE specializations I aimed for are also out of the question. All because of those damn messes, you force me into."

"We didn't give you any missions the whole autumn term, you managed to fall into those 'messes' on your own." Blunt had replied as he opened his drawer and brought out a thick file that must have been Alex's. "You missed your first week because you were playing around with Scorpia, you then got shot, recovered, spent a few weeks with Nikolei Drevin, a few weeks in Bangkok due to ASIS… You were back in school by the last two weeks before winter break… If you look at the file, none of these missions were given to you by us." Blunt explained as he slid the file to Alex who stood in front of his table.

"I don't wanna see it. I just want justice for all this. If you can cook up all these excuse notes and media embargo then you can cook up something which can help the teachers understand that I still want to specialize. I still want to attain A-C's , if not all A's, graduate and get into a good college. With these grades, I'm going to end up taking sixth form in Brookland."

Alex sat back down on the chair instead and sighed, recovering from his tirade.

"Well, where would you like to study instead?" Mrs Jones asked.

Alex couldn't help but notice a smirk creep up her lips. ""There are better schools out there for what I want to do." He explained.

"And that is?"

"Preferably something which won't get me killed."

In truth, Alex had no idea. It's not like you needed qualifications to get a 9-5 desk job. Blunt realised his dilemma as he leant forwards with smug look to his eye.

"Why are you so unsure of your future? You know MI6 will welcome you with open arms when you graduate." Blunt said, he knew Alex hated the job, he couldn't help but want to push a few buttons. He had noticed Alex's mouth twitch in frustration. Blunt's face remained stoic but he was chuckling on the inside.

Mrs. Jones was the more understanding one. She tapped Alex on the shoulder and said, "I'm sorry, the most we can muster up are the doctor's notes. We are the country's intelligence department not their education department. Your grades are decided by you and your school's system. What we can do now is leave you to finish this year. You have two more months to fix your grades and we'll give you this as a study leave. Good luck Alex.''

Alex didn't even mutter a 'thank you.' All he could think was how they even had the gall to 'grant him a study leave.' Technically, he didn't even work for them. He isn't someone who's obliged to answer and follow orders. They just find great ways to blackmail him and it manages to work more than half the time. Alex also had to admit, Blunt was right, half the messes he got himself into are messes he made himself and MI6 had to pull him out of. In the end, Alex had to concede. He had only himself to blame for his academic performance.

And he had to act then and there if he wanted to salvage his grades.

No more messes. He had to subdue his spying instincts. He picked the safest and fastest routes to get home to make it easier to resist temptations to chase after anything that looked suspicious. He spent all his extra hours (when not studying) sorting his academic self out, listing key topics to study, scouring the libraries for supplementary readings for coursework and begging for extensions from teachers.

He was absent most of January and February because of the issue with Desmond McCain in Kenya and his hospitalization thereafter. The informal assessments, they released over the weekend showed the results.

"So, what do you plan to do with this? Last term was horrible, you really have to do better now." Jack said as she returned the papers containing his school report back into the envelope. It was the Monday morning after Alex's visit to MI6 headquarters.

"They're not final yet." Alex said, cringing slightly as he recalled the three Fs from Science, Math and Physical Education and the other Ds and Cs. "I still have two months to bring it up." He couldn't blame the teachers though for those grades, they had no basis at all for anything higher. He only submitted at the most half of the course work due last semester.

Alex hated to admit but he was also failing PE. PE was never an issue until he selected it as an option for study, the science of it was lost to his absence. Although he was never there, he always managed to do well in the physical fitness tests his teacher made him do and in the final exams anyway since regular near death situations kept him a lot fitter than most students. That term was a lot different seeing as he was in crutches when he went back to school late February and it was only last week when the doctor finally allowed him to take off the cast. He was still banned though from taking part in any rigorous physical activities, probably until next early May (according to the doctor's note) and that was when final exams are to be held. Mr Wiseman their physical education teacher took Alex's doctor's notes with a grain of salt. He did not believe any of those sicknesses since Alex's performance during the physical exams were too good for someone who has been struck by every illness imaginable. Despite the doctor's note and his seeing Alex in crutches until only last week, he made Alex run the warm up with the class. It was a dangerous risk and the teacher could have been binned for ordering a child with a doctor's note to participate. He was fed up with the endless doctor's notes though and he needed something to prove that Alex was not as sickly as the notes implied him to be.

Also, the boy did not argue. Had he even said one word against it, Mr. Wiseman would have let him sit out but even Alex was getting tired of the lack of normalcy in his school life lately. With the unhealed ankle though, he found himself trailing doggedly at the back of the line, cursing the damned soul of Desmond McCain who had shot at him causing him to make the misstep that fractured his ankle.

Mr. Wiseman called him back to the benches after the warm-up. "I'll let you stop here because of the doctor's note but don't think you're able to get any special treatment because you're good friends with a doctor. Your absences have already done a number to your grades. If you feel like you still wanna fix it, I recommend you talk to Mr Jacobs, they're organizing the Science Technology and Maths camp during the long weekend and since there are a lot of physical activities, students will also be getting incentives from the PE department. Don't let me down. You used to be better than this. I know you're better than this."

Alex nodded and muttered an apology. He hurried to the faculty. His classmates were still running the assigned laps so he had enough time to go to the faculty room and talk to Sir Jacobs.

"I heard about the camp…" Alex said. He wanted to say more but at that moment when his teacher made his way in front of him, he remembered that he had promised to meet him and talk about his disappearance in Venice during the start of last term and the meeting never happened.

"Yeah, it's this weekend in Bath city. You're planning on joining? It's a great way to bring up your grades." Mr. Jacobs said, his voice casual. He didn't look like he remembered their conversation months ago.

Alex nodded, started to feel more and more relaxed by the second.

Mr. Jacobs gestured for Alex to follow him inside the faculty room to his desk. He turned on his laptop and opened an excel file with everyone's grades.

Alex watched nervously as he inputted several numbers and watched the letters beside it shift from a C to a C+ then a B with every number Mr. Jacobs changed. Focusing on the changing letters was enough to give Alex a bout of anxiety. Funny how numbers could have that much of an effect on him.

"I'm glad to know you're making the effort to fix your grades. Listen, I'll give another incentive just for you. Usually, if one group wins the overall prize, and I add an extra 20 points to their coursework score. . I'll give you fifty points if you win, enough for a B or B + as your final grade for science for this year. You lose but participate and I'll give you 20 points, enough for a C or C+."

"Sign me and Tom up for that." Alex said, as he started to plan how he would convince Tom to join him.

The Science Technology and Maths camp was held at the end of every school year, a chance for the students to bring up their final grades by using the ouputs to cancel out lower rated course work and in Alex's case, unsubmitted coursework. Of course, it was also held to foster their love for Science, but that is usually left unmentioned by students. The STM camp was a well-known tradition exclusive to Brookland that the other students would always mention but Alex never got around to considering whether he wanted to join or not. He was absent during the sign up period and the camp itself, his excuse a bad case of the flu. The real reason was at the same time the students were actually going through camp activities, Alex was snowboarding down the ski alps in Switzerland, running away from crazy people who were threatening to dissect him.

He needed to join the camp this year more than ever and he needed a friendly face with him. He found himself looking for the right words to convince Tom to join him while they were on the tube, back to his house in Chelsea.

When the doctor mentioned minimal physical activity, he had also advised against Alex riding his bike to school to minimize physical exertion. It was a frustration at first. The first week back to school, Jack had insisted they take a cab. Twelve pounds per ride was a lot of money that could've been spent elsewhere. That coupled with the embarrassment of being dropped off in school every day and picked up was enough leverage for Alex to argue against that and win.

He was still in crutches the week after so riding a bike and walking were still out of the question. Alex and Jack finally agreed after an argument over breakfast that Alex could take the tube from Sloane Square to his school district and back. There was no need to change trains and Alex, to his embarrassment, was always given the priority seat. His route to school was doctor and Jack-approved and that was the most important part.

Even with his crutches off, Jack insisted he continued taking the tube.

"Wait until the doctor gives you the go signal." She said, every time he brought up creaky bike and muscles that could atrophy at any moment.

Tom, who sympathized with Alex, would come home with him most days, knowing the latter found the tube a boring alternative to riding the bike every day. That day, he noticed Alex looked almost relieved to be taking the tube.

"Your ankle's hurting isn't it?"

Alex nodded silently. He never liked being coddled or even just someone asking about his injuries, especially those he got when on missions.

"He shouldn't have let you run that."

"I agreed to run it Tom, you should have seen my report. They predicted a flat F for Science, Math and PE."

"Shit. Even PE is taking the brunt of your absences. You deserve an A in PE for what you're doing on missions."

"Tell that to Mr Wiseman, you're his favorite student." Alex said, not bothering to hide the slight bitterness in his voice. Mr Wiseman also coached the football team and Tom was one of the better players in their school team so it was only natural that the coach would grow to like him. Alex had trained with them multiple times with the intention of making the first string, with the constant absences though, he never had the chance and probably never would in the future. He would have wanted to try out again during that term but going back to school in crutches had already put a damper on his plans.

"Well, the STM camp is coming up. Mr Wiseman said he'll be giving away bonus points for PE this year. Maybe you should consider signing up."

"That's exactly what I was thinking of doing. Sign-ups are until tomorrow. Do you plan on going?"

It's the moment of truth or I'm only going to have until tomorrow morning to force Tom into joining that stupid camp with me. Alex thought. Joining the STM camp was an appealing thought for most grade conscious students. It guaranteed an A in coursework plus extra points for winners. The problem was, it was usually held during the height of the rainy season. Outdoor activities, science and math problems and hard rains were only a great combination for the most adventurous, the nerdiest and the most grade conscious.

Alex only identified with the third adjective. Alex was not particularly enthusiastic about how the world works and MI6 and his uncle had already supplied him with enough adventure to last a lifetime. As he thought about the camp in the tube, he realized that under most circumstances, meaning if he never got into that mess with MI6 and was getting the grades he usually got, he would have never considered joining the camp and would just suck it up, study and take the long tests and final exams. This was no ordinary circumstance though and he was hoping Tom got the message.

"You've got to be kidding me." Tom said as he noticed the long stare Alex had been giving him for almost a minute already.

"You wouldn't want me to be living in your basement cause I couldn't find a job… Right?"

Tom sighed. He was going to be missing soccer training that weekend and one day of class if he decided to join the camp. He was supposed to use that point to argue then he realized that those complaints pale in comparison to what Alex had been going through the past year.

A few minutes later, he found himself agreeing after he was also reminded of his own grades that could use some shaping up. He also looked back at his own household, which was still loud with the sound of his parents fighting. They did not live together anymore but still spent a lot of time on the phone with each other arguing over divorce procedures and past agreements. He probably needed a break from that too.

"Throw in a tin of Ben's Cookies and we have a deal." Tom added as they stepped out of the train.