No more running...

Alex sat in his room back in Chelsea, London. He had come back for a visit just after a few months after he had been taken in by the Pleasures. He had forgotten to inform Sabina about it but that wasn't on his mind as of now.

The house had not been sold yet and he was able to slip through the back window through his old bedroom. He leaned against the leg of the bed. His eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as his past memories swirled through his mind. It had been exactly one year after he had been recruited for the Stormbreaker mission. One year after he had met Alan Blunt and Mrs Jones at the funeral. It had also occurred to him that it was Ian Rider's one year death anniversary.

He thought of all he had been through this past year. All those missions he had been forced to go on against his will. Time after time, MI6 kept using him as their play toy. Sending him on a wild and adrenaline rollercoaster ride. And now because of them, Jack was dead. Her death replayed in his head over and over again like a casett tape, plaguing his dreams with the memory. Every night, he wouldn't go to sleep as Jack's voice kept taunting him.

At least those missions were worth something. He had learnt the truth about his parents and had the chance to meet his Godfather, Ash. But those priceless pieces of information had come at a price. The price of his innocence, his childhood ripped away from him in an instant.

Alex felt his eyes sting and something warm slid down his bare cheeks. Then he realised he was crying. He had not cried since Jack's funeral. But now, here he was. Crying for all that had happened in his life. Crying was a sign of weakness. He remembered Ian Rider's words from long ago. And in a spy's career, emotion was a luxury that you couldn not afford.

Suddenly, he was angry. Angry at MI6 for recruiting him in their world he was never supposed to know about. Angry at Ian Rider for preparing him for a job he was never supposed to be exposed to in the very first place. Angry at Scorpia for the death of his parents and Jack. Alex had changed. He was no longer the sweet and innocent little kid whose favourite hobbies were extreme sports and karate. He was the spy the world never knew about.

Alex got up from his position, his eyes dead serious. There was zero trace of warmth and life in them. There would be no more running.