A/N: Written for SpyFest 2016's Week Two prompt: 'A good day for someone else to die.' Warning - I wrote this really quickly without any real proofreading. You've been warned.

Alex couldn't remember a time where he'd hated school more than he did right now. The teacher was just droning on and on – about politics, no less – and he'd really have liked to catch up on the sleep he missed the night before while he was busy trying to keep his dinner in his stomach where it belonged (nightmares tended to do that to a person).

Slowly, he let his head fall onto his crossed arms, eyes no more than a slit as he tried in vain to fight sleep (the massive pain meds he was on didn't really help either). Just as his eyes drifted closed, he felt a hard punch to his right arm. Alex opened one eye balefully, glaring at the owner of the fist that had so rudely connected with his skin.

"What?" He hissed sharply, scowling at the boy beside him.

Tom Harris, his best friend (although considering his actions a moment before, that title was probably about to be revoked), smiled unapologetically.

"Teacher's looking at you."

Alex sighed. "And I care…because?"

"You do remember that you need to pass this class, right? And that she'll fail you if you fall asleep now?" Tom's voice was heavy with sarcasm.

"Tell me, oh wise and majestic specimen of youth…what lesson is this?" Alex's tone was just as snarky.

Tom replied instantly. "Politics."

"And what, exactly, is my job again?" Alex smirked as the realization showed on Tom's face. "No, explain to me why I'm paying attention in this class instead of sleeping."

Tom conceded his defeat gracefully (or as gracefully as someone who manages to trip over his own feet regularly can be – really, how did Tom make it onto the football team again?). "Okay, mate, you win. Go back to sleep."

"Thank you." Alex promptly closed his eyes beginning to snooze once more.

Really, Tom mused, his friend was like a cat – even more of a fan of naps than Tom himself, and just as agile as the animal.

"Here, kitty kitty…" Tom quickly drew back his hand as Alex raised his head.

"…Tom?"

"Yes, Alex?"

"You weren't by any chance calling me a cat, were you?"

Damn it, he'd been caught! "No, of course not. Are you sure you're all right, Alex?"

"Perfectly fine, thanks…although, now that I think about it, I am suffering from extreme sleep deprivation. Must have something to do with a certain best friend who won't leave me alone!" Alex snarled softly.

Tom cowered behind his hands. "No! Please! I'm too young and pretty to die!"

Alex grimaced. "You're never too young to die," he murmured softly, closing his eyes and remembering a certain Russian assassin.

Tom said something else – presumably an apology – but sleep hazed over Alex's eyes and the young spy sank into the land of dreams once more…until a sharp slap on the front of his desk woke him from less than pleasant dreams.

His politics teacher smiled angrily down at him. "Good morning, Mr. Rider. How nice of you to join us."

Alex sighed, rubbing his temples to drive away the last remnants of the nightmare. "Morning, Miss," he replied with false cheer, inwardly planning the best way for his teacher to die.

"Tell me, Mr. Rider, is my lesson just that boring to you?" The teacher's smile became predatory, reminding Alex of Nadia Vole's expression as she led him into a freaking jellyfish tank. Yes, he wanted to answer, but he swallowed the words.

"I'm sorry, Miss," he said instead.

"That's not what I want to hear, Mr. Rider." Her tone was patronizing, dragging Alex back to every time he'd been tortured.

'I'm terribly sorry, Alex, but that's not what we want to hear…'

'It's not that difficult, son, just tell us what we want to know!'

He breathed through his nose, willing the memories away. "Stop it," he hissed almost silently. Thankfully, the teacher didn't appear to hear him.

"Since you're so caught up on this lesson, Rider, you can write an essay for me on the corruption of the British government in the nineteenth century." The teacher smirked triumphantly down at him.

"Yes, Miss," Alex replied through gritted teeth.

Looking faintly disappointed by his lack of outburst, the teacher nodded and moved away. Alex dropped his head onto his desk with a slight thump, wishing he had taken up MI6's offer of tuition.

"I'm not one to wish for the death of others," he muttered to Tom (pointedly ignoring the other boy's snort), "but today would be a really good day for her to have a heart attack."

With that, Alex Rider went to sleep once more, his best friend's laughter ringing in his ears.

I hope you like it!