A/N: Just a short one-shot, written in about twenty minutes last night. Hope you like it.

DISCLAIMER: everything belongs to Anthony Horowitz.

***

You've done it again – saved the world against all odds. The card is gone, the countdown stopped. There will be no nuclear disaster today.

It seems you must pay with your life.

It pushed you to your limits, this mission. You faced terrors both natural and man-made, sometimes both together – with a shudder you remember the great white and the loathsome protection on Devil's chimney: a defence with its very own disposal system that lead Turner and Troy to their deaths. You didn't grieve for them, you didn't have time.

You're almost relieved to find the gun pointed at you, relieved that you don't have to fight it. You're so sick of fighting for your life, the shark, the sugar press, even his two run-ins with the Triads that started this whole mess. Well, no one can expect you to fight this. Briefly, you wonder if it'll hurt, but you don't think about it long – there's no point. There's nothing you can do about it either way, after all.

"Goodbye, Alex," he says and time seems to slow. The click of the safety echoes in your ears. Breathing fails you and you stand perfectly still as the gun suddenly jerks upwards.

There's a bang and you turn your head to the side as the warm liquid splatters across your face. You close your eyes.

Cold air floods into your lungs and you realise that you've survived. You wonder if this will be the last time, but your bitter laugh tells you how ridiculous that idea is. Why would they stop using you now, if they didn't before?

Quietly, a small part of you wonders if you should feel relieved – relieved to be alive when you came to so close to death, relieved that the mission is finally over, relieved that you succeeded. But you aren't.

Instead you feel numb.

You know that you can't let them know that. You know it's not normal and so you plaster a look of shock and relief across your features, ready for the sirens you can already hear in the distance.

Over the weeks the numbness inside you shrinks and you become so good at masking it that even Jack doesn't notice anymore.

But then you meet your uncle's killer and realise you can't kill him and it explodes, filling your chest.

Strange, how simple numbness can hurt so much.

Watching Cray fall into the engine barely makes it shudder, where as watching Yassen die makes it grow a few sizes more.

Months pass and it shrinks again, though not as much as you had hoped.

And then Venice and the Invisible Sword, then Ark Angel and then your mission with ASIS. By the end of it, you can't even feel fear.

And though it shrinks a touch in the months between Snakehead and McCain, you can see the day when it won't, when you will be emotionless constantly. Inhuman.

It's not that far away.

It started when Sarov shot himself. It will end when you meet your death. It's too late for anything else.

***

A/N: Yes, I know, it's ridiculously short. Hope you enjoyed it anyway. Review and tell me what you think!