A/N: So this is a sequel to my story, "My Reality" and though it's probably not necessary to read that first, I'd recommend it as this holds severe spoilers for that!

Still reading? Yay!

Disclaimer: Anthony Horowitz, for all the torture he put Alex through in the books, would most likely not drive the poor boy insane, so I think it's safe to assume I'm not him, am not making any money from this, and do not claim ownership of anything you recognise!

-o-O-o-

The man looks at the boy in front of him. His arms are strapped loosely but securely to the sides of the bed. He is dressed all in white in clothes too large for him. The doctors say he isn't eating and it shows. His face is gaunt and the bags under his eyes are proof enough for Wolf that sedatives are no replacement for actual sleep.

"Cub," says the soldier finally.

The boy jerks at the recognised, but not familiar, name. For a moment he looks at Wolf but his gaze quickly skitters away. It seems to be following something across the room warily.

"Cub," he repeats, softly. "Cub, will you please look at me?"

The boy's eyes suddenly jerk back to look at him.

"Are you real?" he asks, and Wolf breaks a little inside.

"Yes," he replies, firmly.

"Cogito ergo sum," says the boy, a wry smile twisting his lips. "But I have no proof that you think."

The teen sighs.

They are silent for a moment as the blonde's eyes twist away from Wolf again and towards the corner. He shudders, briefly, then turns back.

"They say I am getting better," he says. "I'm not convinced."

"They must be convinced if they said it," Wolf points out.

Alex grunts non-commitedly.

Then his eyes jerk to the side and he freezes. He whimpers.

"Jack..." he breathes. "No... No... This isn't real. It can't be real."

He's shaking, Wolf realises and tries to leave to find someone, only to be trapped as Alex latches onto his arm.

A moment later he doesn't need to worry, or maybe he does. Someone has come running in. Alex has started screaming.

"Sir, I really must ask you to leave," said the nurse, hastily prying Alex's hand from his wrist. Wolf is hustled out. He tries to ignore the desperate pleas that beg him to stay.

-o-O-o-

Two weeks later, he was back. For a moment, he stood on the far side of the window. Alex was awake and staring at the ceiling.

Wolf wondered, for a moment, what he was doing there. Once could be considered his duty as the leader of Alex's training team, twice was definitely not necessary.

But he couldn't shake the way Alex had looked at him – his eyes wide and pleading, desperate.

'Are you real?'

It could be because of guilt, or duty, or any other of a dozen reasons, but whatever the reason he knows he'll keep visiting.

He knows that he'll keep coming, as often as he can, until Alex knows that he is there. Until Alex knows that he is real.

-o-O-o-

A/N: So what did you think? I know it's short, more of a drabble than anything but I the end of My Reality seemed just a little bleak, to me. Don't you prefer this one?