A/N: This is my first fanfiction so I'm really nervous. Please read and review-I'd love to know what you all think.

Disclaimer: If I were Anthony Horowitz wouldn't I be spending my time actually writing a book rather than FANfiction on the net?

Two polite knocks.

'Come in Alex,' Mr. Bray called gently.

Alex heaved a sigh before grasping the door handle firmly and twisting it open. Mr. Bray gestured for him to sit down in the chair in front of his desk and as Alex moved towards it, he surreptitiously took in every miniscule detail of the head teacher's office. The three grey filing cabinets in the left corner. The thin layer of dust on the plastic plants. The greasy finger prints, showing how often he handled the photo frame that contained a photo of his wife and daughter. Alex took it all in, in a matter of seconds and cursed himself for it. Why couldn't he be like a normal teenager, blind to his surroundings? In the same breath he took the bitter thought back. It had, he grudgingly admitted, saved his life on many occasions.

'You wanted to see me sir?' he asked, letting a slight crease of his brow and bewilderment cloud his tone to make him appear confused. It wasn't as if he didn't know why the Head had wanted to see him. Having recently returned from his seventh lengthy 'sick' absence, it wasn't surprising that the school would want to enquire in more detail. Besides it wasn't only the students that were suspicious. He'd even caught teachers discussing him at lunch time.

Mr Bray sighed. 'Yes Alex. Your teachers have been very concerned about you. You've been sick-'he emphasized the word, 'quite often in the past few months. Now whilst you were in year 9, this wasn't too big of a concern. But you're in year 10 now Alex. You have GCSE's to prepare for. I know you're an exceptionally gifted child and you've always done well, but with all your lengthy absences, your grades have started to slip.'

He paused for a second looking awkward. 'Alex…I hear things.' Alex bit on his lip hard, desperately trying to contain the 'like voices?' remark he wanted to make. Now was not the time for sarcasm.

'A lot of your peers seem to think that you've gotten yourself involved in some sort of gang or drugs...' he paused searching Alex's eyes trying to find something that would affirm or deny the statement. Alex stared back with eyes that revealed nothing. However he couldn't hide the slight tremor in his voice when he replied, 'I get sick easily Sir.' The lie rolled of his tongue with an ease that only comes from practice. Mr Bray sighed again.

'You're a bright child and you've always been on the straight and narrow. I realize that your uncles' death must have taken quite a toll on you but…I don't believe your sick excuse…but I also don't believe the rumours Alex.' His face couldn't hide his curiosity now. 'Why have you really been missing so much school?'

Alex looked down at his lap, taking a moment to compose himself before answering, 'I get sick easy Sir.' His resignation rang in every syllable. But Mr. Bray wouldn't accept it.

'Alex please. You can't expect me to believe that.' His tone was growing more desperate. 'You come back looking absolutely exhausted-and yes that may fit with being sick but-but the rest doesn't,' he finished quietly.

Alex felt the panic rise in his throat. What did he mean the rest? He couldn't have noticed any of his scars and bruises could he? He'd made sure to always wear his school jumper or at the very least have his white shirt sleeves always rolled down.

'What rest Sir?' Alex was very proud of himself for not letting his voice squeak.

'Your eyes.' He replied simply. Alex was confused.

'My eyes?'

'Yes. They look haunted. They look old. They don't look like the eyes of a 14 year old. They remind me of my dad's eyes when he came back from fighting in World War 2. It begs the question Alex-why do your eyes have that same haunted look?'

Alex looked down and swallowed hard. He knew he'd changed. He knew his experiences made him that much more different from other 14 year olds. But it cut him sharply to know that that change was so obvious. When it was clear he wasn't going to reply, Mr. Bray tried again.

'Alex please. Let us help you. Whatever it is, I'm sure we can do something.' Alex just about managed to contain the hysterical laugh that wanted to bubble out of his throat.

'There's nothing Sir. I just get sick easy.' The words felt like bitter poison as he uttered them. Mr. Bray sighed, recognising defeat.

'Very well Alex. Just try your best with your lessons…and if you change your mind my door is always open.' Alex rushed out of the room as fast as he could without running. His eyes were stinging and he closed them furiously, trying to subdue the moisture beneath them. In the foyer in front of the Heads' office he stood deceptively calmly, eyes still closed, betraying nothing of his mind's inner turmoil.

He longed to tell someone. He was so close to letting lose just then. He was furious-at MI6 for dragging him in to this mess. At all the psycho's he had fought against and only narrowly beat. At Ash for betraying his father and him and killing his parents. At Ian for secretly training him to be the way he was. At all the people at school who made up petty rumours about him. But more than that. He was tired. And he was scared. Because deep down he knew he'd never escape MI6's clutches…and he wasn't sure he wanted to. He was too far in now for him to get back out. That last thought scared him more than anything else. A small part of him craved the adrenaline rush that life and death situations brought him. To-'AAARGH!'

He was pulled out of his thoughts as he let out a small scream of pain. He clutched his chest, right over his bullet wound. The spasms of pain were bordering unbearable and it took all he had not to start crying. But the pain only intensified. Alex lost hold of his consciousness.

Mr. Bray who had been watching Alex from the window in his door, rushed over to him.

'Sir, I didn't mean to-he just-'

'It's okay William. You head to your class.' The boy bit his lip but complied without comment. It wasn't as if he'd done it on purpose. He was just running to his class and accidentally elbowed some boy that was standing in the middle of the way. He hadn't even elbowed him that hard…had he? He went to class and upon seeing his friends promptly forgot about the whole incident.

Meanwhile Mr. Bray carried Alex in to his office and lay him down on the table. He'd had some First Aid training so he thought he'd see what he could do.

'If I can't do anything', he thought unbuttoning the boy's shirt to get to the hit area, 'I'll call an ambulance.'

The sight before him knocked the breath out of him. Alex's torso was littered with cuts and bruises varying in size and colour, ranging from a pale sickly yellow to deep angry purples and blues. But what stood out most amongst the map of injuries, was the disfigured slightly circular shaped skin above his heart.

'A bullet wound,' he whispered horrified. For one morbid moment he felt the need to reach out and touch it. He just needed to make sure it was real. His touch woke the boy and he felt a hand grip his wrist. Pained eyes stared up at him.

'Alex…what happened? You can't tell me you're sick anymore.' The boy smiled a humourless smile that didn't suit his young face but suited his haunted, old eyes.

'No. I'm not sick. But…I can't tell you what's really up either.' Mr. Bray looked like he was about to protest but Alex cut him off.

'Sir, please. I'm in way over my head. Way in over all our heads. What I'm doing…it makes gang involvement and drugs seem petty in comparison. But I can't get out. And trust me Mr. Bray there's nothing you can do. So please don't tell anyone.'

Mr Bray was torn. Normally he wouldn't think twice about such an issue. He would get in touch with social services and let that be that. But the look in Alex's eyes had held him back. Those eyes too old for a boy so young. Those eyes that spoke of horrors that wouldn't even come to him in his worst nightmares. In that moment he knew that he would be unable to help Alex get out of whatever it was.

'Very well.' He replied at last. 'But I'm not happy about this. I wish I could help you in some way.'

Alex smiled slightly. 'There is Sir.'

'Yes?'

'Help me not fail at school. I need to pass my GCSE's.'

'Of course.' Alex soon excused himself with the promise (that he doubted Alex would keep) of going to see the doctor after school. Mr. Bray thought over the days happenings. Alex Rider was a mystery. Now that he was one step closer to it, he felt that it was even more of a mystery than before. But he would help the boy with the haunted eyes whichever way he could. Because though Alex didn't say it in so many words, he knew he needed someone to help him regain some normality in the mysterious life that he led.

So? What d'you think? Oh and thanks for taking the time to read this. x