A/N: So, this is it, the final chapter. Thanks for sticking with me for so long and sorry for not updating in a while, school is killing me. Also, would any of you be interested in reading an Alex Rider/Walking Dead crossover?

(Castle)

Everybody was brainstorming, trying to figure out a way to get to the hostages without causing casualties. However, from what I could see, it wasn't possible. Eagle and Lion managed to get in, but were either held hostage or dead. The television was on, but it showed nothing but static as I watched the screen, waiting for anything to happen. Jack sat beside me, her knees pulled up to her chest and eyes bloodshot from both worry and tears. I felt the same way, I felt helpless. Jack began to speak, "Everytime they sent him out on a mission, I wondered if he would ever come back. He always did... every time." She paused when her voice began to crack in sorrow. "He always came back." A few tears rolled down her face and I put my hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her in any way that I could. Jack wiped the tears away, "Alex will get your daughter out of there, Castle. He'll get everyone out of there."

"How do you know?" I asked, wondering how a teen could go through all of that and still be alive.

Jack replied, "That's just the way he is."

Even though that statement wouldn't be convincing to some, I believed her words. Why did I believe her, then? The reason was simple: I knew Alexis would do whatever she could to help people because that's just the way she is. As for Alex, I've seen what he can do, heard what he's been through. With both Alex and Alexis there, I knew they would figure something out.

A cell phone rang and one of the SAS men answered it. "Who is this?" There was a moment pause, "Where are you? Is everybody okay?"

In that instant, the television turned on and a handheld camera moved along with the person. "Please tell me somebody can see this. Fox, can you see this?"

The SAS man replied, "Yeah, we can see just fine."

Jack rose from her seat, "Alex?" A disbelieving tone filled her voice.

Alex didn't answer her, "Look, I don't have much time. I'm going to the bomb before this building is blown sky high." An enemy appeared around the corner and Alex hit him in the head with what looked like a small pole. "If anybody knows anything about bombs, now would be a good time to put them on the phone." Another SAS man grabbed the cell phone and waited for a video of the bomb to appear on the screen. Finally, it appeared and the SAS man tensed up and uncertainty filled his eyes.

"Kid, are you sure that's the bomb?" The SAS man asked.

"They've been guarding it and it's the only bomb in this freaking building." Alex replied.

The SAS man shook his head, "It's a fake."

There was a moment of silence, "What do you mean by a fake?"

"That's just a timer strapped to a bunch of scrap metal and fake bombs. It's a fake." The SAS man said. "It's not dangerous."

"Then where is the real one?" Ryan asked as silence filled the room.

Alex paused for a moment, then cursed and began to run. "Listen carefully. The others are on their way out through the air vents, you have to get them out of here. They never intended the Empire State Building to permanently shelter the bomb, it was just the best place to store it and get rid of it easily. They know we'd immediately search for in this building, they tricked us."

Jack looked afraid, "Alex, what are you talking about?" Even though it was obvious he couldn't hear her.

I finally understood, "The helicopter is carrying the bomb. They can take it anywhere in a short amount of time."

Suddenly, the camera was sent sprawling to the ground. The sound a knuckles hitting flesh made my heart stop and sink into my gut. Then, the screen went black and I knew somebody must have broke the camera. The detectives began to move, Beckett told me she and a few others was going to pick up the hostages. I followed her to the car in a daze and, when she pulled away from the curb, I was still lost to my thoughts.

(Alex)

Before I knew what was happening, my hands were tied behind my back and a blindfold obscured my vision. I struggled to free myself, but it was a futile attempt. I could only stumble as my captors pushed me out of the building and into a car. My head hit the top of the car and I blacked out for a moment. As I became aware, I could hear them talking angrily. Judging by their voices, there were four of them.

"Why do we have to keep up with this kid now?" One asked.

"Where have you been? This 'kid' has caused us enough problems already!" Another replied.

Another one stated, "Which means we should just get rid of him. He'll just be another body lying around somewhere."

"No, the Boss wants the boy to see what he's going to do to this country. Besides, the odds are in our favor." A few minutes of silence followed until the voice said, "We're here."

The dragged me out of the car and I made another attempt to get away, but a punch was delivered to my stomach. Trying to force the oxygen into my lungs, I could only let my captors lead me into whatever Hell I was about to encounter. Was I worried? Yeah, who wouldn't be? However, I knew one thing. If I was going to die, I would take them down with me. I was lead up a lot of stairs and a door opened with a creak, the sound of a helicopter immediately reached my ears. The wind from the blades was like a huge, opposing force waiting to be attacked, ready to defend. The blindfold was taken away from my eyes and the sunlight made me squint. When my eyes adjusted, two helicopters sat there, one with the bomb inside, ready to be the center of catstrophic destruction.

A man stepped out of the passenger side of the one without the bomb, "Welcome to Hell's Gate, Alex Rider. I hope you enjoy the show."

I glared, "You haven't seen Hell yet."

The man smiled, "Good to hear." Then, I was shoved into the helicopter without the bomb and the door closed, then it soon lifted from the building and took off into the sky.

I sat, tense, in the seat across from the terrorist leader. "You blew up other buildings first, attacked the police station, and kidnapped people. Why go to all this trouble when you're just going to set a bomb somewhere else?"

"For fun, of course." The Boss said, "You see, kid. This entire ordeal has been nothing but a complicated game to me. New York has been attacked several times and, this time, what happens today will be known throughout the entire world for centuries to come."

I scowled, "You're a psychotic, sick bastard."

He glared, "No, I'm a smart dictator of life and death. I choose who lives and who dies in this world. You, Alex Rider, will be dead soon along with the New Yorkers. And it's not going to stop there. Next, we'll go to Los Angeles. Then, we'll find other cities to attack, until this entire country is demolished." He smiled, "I know what you're thinking. You think you can stop us at the last minute." He laughed, "We know all about you, Alex Rider, son of John and Helen Rider, nephew of Ian Rider. We know MI6 has recruited you and sent you on missions. That last one was pretty messy if I say so myself. Imagine a body going through the propeller of Air Force One. How all the bones shatter into a billion pieces and skin is ripped into small microscopic pieces. The blood just seems to vanish in thin air, only to turn into a small, red wall of rain."

I didn't feel sorry for Cray, but I really didn't want to hear a description. I glared at the man, trying to figure out what I could do to stop all this. I had to get to the other helicopter just in front of us. Either that or find a way to warn the NYPD of where they were landing. Even then, though, there was a possibility that they may I arrive too late. No, I had to figure out a way to do this on my own. I laughed, "If only there was a plane propeller now."

As expected, the leader's fist slammed into the side of my face and the metallic taste of blood filled my mouth. "I can kill you anytime I want, Rider. Remember that."

"Lovely." I said sarcastically, "At least I'll have more people at my funeral than yours."

That remark was replied by the man drawing a knife from his pocket, "One more word and I'll cut out your tongue."

I had to keep talking, it was the only way. "Where are we even going? Couldn't you just detonate the bomb here and cause the same damage?"

"Who said this bomb was going to cause all the damage?" He questioned, "You've really underestimated how much time has went into this project. The bomb in the helicopter is only one out of six. There are five others in the northern, southern, eastern, western, and central part of New York City. The bomb the helicopter is carrying is simply a decoy, but it will detonate first. The only thing it will destory is the helicopter. While people focus on that, the other bombs will detonate five minutes later in a place nobody can see them."

I finally realized it, "They're all underground."

The man smiled, "Exactly. The way things are now, a Rider can't stop this from happening." He turned to face the pilot, "How much longer?"

The pilot replied, "ETA two minutes and seven seconds."

"Press the button as soon as possible." The leader stated.

"Yes, sir." The pilot stated and lifted the cover off a blinking button.

I forced myself not to panic. As of right now, the terrorists had the upper hand, but there had to be a way to stop this. The material that bound my hands finally broke where I rubbed it against the metal part of the backrest. However, I kept my hands hidden from the leader's sight. I had to wait for the right moment.

One minute, forty-three seconds.

"Do you feel fear yet, Alex Rider? Are you ready to face death?" The leader asked.

I remained silent.

The man smiled, "How about this? I'll let you choose how you die. That's more courtesy than what most would give you."

"Yeah, that's something that I'll have to think about." I replied.

"I could simply shoot you, maybe even throw you out of this helicopter. No, that's too boring. It would be nice if I could kill you in front of that little girlfriend of yours, how interesting that would be. Maybe I could kill her in front of you, send a bullet through her skull."

I growled, "Go to Hell."

He continued to speak, "Set the building where she lives on fire, trap her inside to let her flesh melt from her bones. Hearing her scream as the fire closes in around her. What a shame that would be for a beautiful lady like her."

One minute, fourteen seconds.

I lunged and punched him, breaking his nose. Blood flowed and the suprise in the terrorist's eyes soon ignited into a flame of pure hatred. He hit me in the side in an attempt to throw me off, but I was too furious to even notice. The helicopter swerved for a moment, due to the pilot's surprise, which made me lose my balance. My legs were knocked from under me and I was sent to the floor, but I soon recovered. I lunged toward the terrorist again and my head and neck seemed to have exploded when he drove the palm of his hand into the bottom of my chin. I was thrown backward into the helicopter door. I rose to my feet, ready for the next attack.

There was a first aid kit behind me. I grabbed the metallic box and swung it toward the terrorist's head, which he blocked easily. "Is that all you got, Rider? I'm disappointed. I always thought the Riders were somebody to semi-respect, but that's not true if you're the last one." He grabbed a knife from his pocket and slashed my arm. In the confined space of the helicopter, it would be impossible to avoid. With that thought, I lunged again just as he swung a second time. I caught his wrist and punched him in the face, but he soon recovered.

Thirty-seven seconds.

He dropped the knife and I dove toward it, only to have the terrorist tackle me and send me on my stomach. He grabbed my left arm and began to pull it behind my back. Fire seemed to course through it as my shoulder threatened to dislocate. I held my breath painfully. "This is it, Rider. This is where you die." My shoulder snapped and the terrorist grabbed me by the throat. My lungs began to burn at the lack of air. With my right hand, I grabbed the first-aid kit that lay next to me. Instead of hitting the man choking me, I threw it at the pilot. It slammed into his arm and the helicopter swerved wildly to the left.

Using the swerve to my advantage, I pushed up with my right arm and sent both me and my attacker into the door. For a moment, the grip on my throat loosened and I grabbed his wrist and twisted it with a loud snap. The terrorist seemed oblivious to the pain, but he hesitated long before attacking long enough.

Thirteen seconds.

I lunged toward the pilot and pushed the cyclic control along with the pilot's knee down to press the pedal. Immediately, the helicopter began to go through the air without any control. We were heading toward Central Park and I prayed there was nobody there. A gunshot made my ears ring a moment before my mind could register the pain in my back. The end of the helicopter hit one of the buildings next to the park and was sent spiralling. I was thrown to the side, unable to think with all the chaos.

One second.

The helicopter slammed into the ground with a metallic crash.

(Castle)

After we found Alexis, we began to follow the helicopter. Jack sat in the backseat with Alexis and Beckett drove through the chaotic streets. I tried to convince Jack and Alexis to not come with us, but they wouldn't listen. Instead of arguing, we just continued to follow the helicopter. Suddenly, the helicopter began to lose control. Beckett stopped the car, unsure of where the helicopter would crash or if it the pilot could regain control. When the helicopter hit the top of a building, I knew it was going to crash.

We could only watch as it fell through the air and, eventually, hit near the middle of Central Park with a loud boom. Beckett drove toward the park and cut through the grass to get to the wreckage. We stopped when we saw the crumpled shell of what used to be a machine. The rotors were bent, a few of the blades lay scattered around the wreckage, and fire began its journey along the damaged shell. We jumped out of the car. Beckett pointed at Jack and Alexis, "Stay back." Then, she ran toward the wreckage with me on her heels.

A second NYPD car pulled up beside of Beckett's, then another. Soon, more detectives surrounded the helicopter. Beckett and I looked inside the half broken cockpit of the helicopter and saw three bloody figures laying motionless. Beckett yelled to the other detectives, "Call an ambulance!" Then, she crawled into the flaming cockpit. She crouched down next to one figure, then moved on to the pilot. Both were dead. She went to the third figure, "Castle, help me get him out."

I crawled beside her and realized who the third person was. Alex's leg was trapped between to pieces of metal and it took mine and Beckett's strength to free his leg. We carefully maneuvered Alex's limp for through the remains of the cockpit. Finally, we met blue sky and I picked him up in my arms and carried him away from the wreckage. The ambulance hadn't arrived yet, but I knew if Alex was to live, it would have to arrive soon.

He was bleeding from a gunshot wound in his back, metal pierced his stomach, his ribs were protruding from the skin, his head was bloody, one shoulder was dislocated, a leg was bent at an awkward angle, and he was barely breathing. I looked at Beckett and saw sadness and doubt in her eyes, which mirrored my own. We began to try to stop the bleeding, since it was the only thing we could do to help. The ambulance finally arrived and the paramedics rushed the teenage boy to the nearest hospital.

We waited in the Emergency Room for seven hours. Jack and Alexis cried as they waited for the doors to open. Beckett paced around the room, Esposito and Ryan looked both angry and sad, while I sat there watching the clock.

Eventually, the ER doctor came out. "Are you with Alex Rider?"

*The Next Day*

(Blunt)

Ms. Jones walked into the office, "You wished to see me?"

"Yes." I replied, "Have you finished writing the report about the incident in New York yet?"

"No." She replied.

"Bring it to me." I stated. She left the room and returned a few minutes later with the document in her hands. I took it and began to write in it. Once I was finished, I closed it and returned it to her. "Document it now, Ms. Jones. Also, start looking for another agent to replace Rider."

Ms. Jones nodded and left.

*A Month and a Half Later*

(Alexis)

Eventually, all the chaos calmed down. Repairs began in New York and the people tried to regain normality. I called for a taxi at school and it took me home. I paid the driver and stepped out of the car and entered the building. I took the elevator and stepped out when the doors opened. After walking a little way, I opened the door to my home and stepped inside. Dad, Beckett, and grandmother was there to greet me. Beckett asked, "How was your day?" It was the normal question since her and dad got together. Dad always tried to ask the same thing, but Beckett always managed to beat him to it.

"Other than the Chemistry class setting off the fire alarm, everything was normal." I replied, and went to my room to put my books on the desk. Then, I grabbed my phone and fell back onto my bed. With earbuds in, I began to listen to music. A few minutes later, I fell asleep.

About an hour later, dad woke me up. "We're going to the hospital to visit Jack and Alex. You should come."

"Is everything okay?" I asked, afraid.

Dad shook his head, "No, I just thought we should go."

I got up and followed dad and the others out the door. Dad drove to the hospital and we arrived nearly thirty minutes later. Unknowingly, I grabbed a newspaper from the car's floorboard and began rolling it up. By now, I knew how to get to Alex's room by heart and we soon entered his room. Jack stood by the window and turned to look at us when we came in. I walked around the small corner, knowing I'd see a comatose Alex in the hospital bad. However, I soon found myself frozen to the spot I was in. Alex was sitting up in the bed, his legs dangling over the edge as if he were about to get up. He looked at me and smiled.

I rushed toward him and became aware of the newspaper in my hand. In on swift motion, I hit him in the head with it. "Don't you ever scare me like that again!" I yelled at him and tears began to fall.

With all the strength he had, Alex rose to his feet and wrapped his arms around me. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

I wrapped my arms around him and we both sat down on the edge of the bed. We sat there for a few more seconds and I simply listened to his heartbeat, afraid to let him go. Finally, he pulled away and, before I realized what was happening, his lips gently pressed against mine. I was aware of others watching, but I didn't care. Apparently, Alex didn't either.

All of the bombs had been discovered and were disabled. Alex and Jack stayed at Beckett's old home, since the detective began living with us. Every once in a while, Jack visited her parents, then returned to New York. Alex enrolled to the same school as me and I soon discovered he was going to be my rival when it came to getting scholarships. Alex and Jack stay here with us often, which only gives Alex and I more time together. Once he was completely healed, we began to go out to the movies and visit the other places couples tend to go. He had went through a lot and the scars would always mark his body. However, he wasn't alone. MI6 never bothered him again and normality eventually came to him.

Years later, Alex and I married and had two children, Jace and Allison. Jace, the oldest, was more like his father in looks and personality while Allison took after me. I watched, drinking a bottle of water, as Alex and the children played hide-and-go-seek in the park. When the kids made Alex hide, they soon began to look for him, but found they couldn't find him. They stopped in front of a tube slide to think about other places to look. However, Alex slid down the slide and grabbed both children around their waist, then began to spin around, the three of them laughing the entire time.

When Alex set them down, Jace and Allison 'tackled' him to the ground and a tickle war began. Their laughter rang through the park and I smiled, then ran to join in on the fun, leaving the bottle of water forgotten on the bench.