A/N: This is my first Fanfic, so go easy on me. I really enjoyed writing this and I'm excited to continue writing it in the future! I am open to suggestions, reviews, and comments and I always love to improve in any way I can. Also, regular updates are not to be expected, but I will try to update every weekend or every other weekend. Thanks for reading and enjoy!
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this stuff. (Although I wish I did).
It didn't matter to Mrs. Jones that Alex was screwed over by them time and time again, and this was clear because Alex found himself in Mrs. Jones's office once more. She was staring at him with her familiar cold smile and expressionless eyes. They sat in silence for the longest time, reaching far beyond the realm of uncomfortable. Finally, she spoke,
"I'm going to be completely honest here, you're the only person who can do this. Despite how you look, you are legally 17, and therefore the only agent available to do this job."
Alex nodded, he was actually expecting something much worse. "Alright. What is it?"
"First and foremost, it's actually a paid internship. It isn't like anything you've done before, it's much easier. I can promise you that all you have to do is gather information and report back to us."
Alex scoffed. "I've heard that one before."
"As I've said, it's nothing more than recon." Mrs. Jones licked her lips slightly. "You're going to be paid a fair amount of money for it as well, 5 dollars an hour, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. For two years." The person sitting across from her didn't even react.
"Fine. Who will I be 'interning for'"? He deadpans.
"Tony Stark."
"Iron Man? You're joking," He rolls his eyes, voice laced with skepticism.
"I'm not. As you have an interest in maths and science, I've arranged for you to be an assistant to him, or any of the Avengers if needed." She stopped for a second to pop a peppermint in her mouth. "Another factor in your 'employment' is that he wants some live-in company for his nephew, who stays in the tower with him. He does not know about you working with MI6, and I would like for you to keep it that way. Every week send us information about each of the Avengers and gain their trust. Why we are doing this is classified, but I can assure you, no harm will come to them."
"Alrighty then. Anything else?"
"No, seeing as there's no need for a Smithers visit, and your file will be handed to you on your way out. " She paused.
"Well...actually, there is. Due to the fact that we don't want a photo of one of our best agents anywhere but our most classified files, we couldn't present them with an up-to-date picture of you. So expect confusion, and memorize the story we've provided in the file word for word."
"Alright then." He rose from his chair and fixed his jacket.
...
After 12 hours of arduous travel, Alex finally collapsed into the back of a cab. He had just finished cramming his luggage into the boot, using more effort than it was worth, and that had basically taken the rest of his energy. After a torturous forty-five-minute drive filed with awkward silence, Alex had finally reached his destination. He paid the man in cash, sluggishly got out of the car, and walked around to the back to take his bags out. He was rushed slightly by a bald man in a t-shirt, which just goes to show how insane New York is. It was Midnight for God's Sake, in the middle of winter. He grumbled something to the man as his luggage slammed into the concrete, before realizing he had already clambered into the cab. Sighing heavily, he closed the boot and began walking to the front office of the Avenger's Tower.
The walk to the front doors was a short one, which, thankfully, ended with the doors opening automatically. At the front desk was a burly man, who looked to be about 40 in a suit and tie. He had a head of short-cropped hair with a mustache and goatee. Alex barely had both feet inside the room before a gun was trained on his head.
---Happy's point of view---
It was one o'-fucking- clock in the morning and he was barely staying awake. The only thing that kept him from falling asleep was the constant ping of the force field thing, which made a beeping noise every time an object got within 5 feet of the building. It hadn't gone off in a while though and Happy was starting to fall into a cautious sleep when the force field went crazy.
His reaction was delayed: he had jumped up from his chair and pulled his gun out of its holster just as the automatic door had opened. He stood there, frozen. His gun was aimed right at the forehead of a pink-haired twenty-something, who had a suitcase in hand. As they stood there in total silence, the automatic doors closed with a shudder.
If Happy thought his reaction was delayed, this kid's reaction was ten times slower. It took him at least seven seconds to externally react to the gun, his face contorting into one of fear and confusion.
"You have three seconds to tell me who you are. If you don't, you're going to get really familiar with the layout of the closest hospital." Happy called across the lobby, internally cursing himself for the awkward threat.
"Jesus Christ, my name is Alex. Alex Rider. I'm here for the internship."
"ID?"
"I'm going to reach into my back pocket for it. Just give me a second. I'm not armed."
'Alex Rider' placed his bags on the ground and, with trembling hands, fumbled through his pockets looking for his ID. While he did, Happy eyed him suspiciously.
"I have it, and I'm going to remove it from my back pocket." 'Alex' said, voice shaking. He slowly pulled his hand out from behind him and revealed a...wallet. That was not what Happy was expecting, but he was relieved it was what he got.
"Toss it over. Now."
'Alex' did, and it landed on the floor at Happy's feet with a thump. He slowly picked it up, keeping his eyes and gun on 'Alex' the whole time. As he stood back up, he opened the wallet in front of his face, so his eyes never left the young adult.
In the clear pocket of the boy's wallet was his driver's license. There was a grainy picture of him, pink hair, scars, and all on the left. On the right was a date confirming he was seventeen, and above it, a name printed in black. Alex Rider.
Happy snapped the wallet shut, and sighed, lowering his gun.
"Ok, looks like you are who you said you were. I'm sorry about all that, just...precautions." He tossed the wallet back to Alex, the kid barely catching it.
"Some precautions..." Alex murmured, thinking Happy couldn't hear him. He chose to ignore it.
Happy stepped behind his desk, shuffling papers around, looking for the packet Tony left for Alex. He coughed awkwardly and tried to make small talk.
"Your plane was delayed?" Alex looked at him quizzically, probably wondering if they were just going to ignore the whole 'held-at-gunpoint' situation. Hesitantly, he answered.
"Yeah, I would have called to let you know, but my phone was dead."
"That's ok. Listen, I'm sorry for...earlier. It's just orders."
"That's fine, I'd rather stay here knowing there are competent guards at the front doors anyway." Alex was being too gracious, Happy thought. Not that he wasn't grateful. With a hum of success, he finally uncovered the packet and placed it on the top-most counter of his desk.
"Ok kid, Tony asked me to give you this note, along with a map, a schedule, and a room key. The packet says the floor you're on, and your room number." Alex stepped forward to take it, and Happy noticed something he hadn't before. Tattoos. They were crawling out of his sleeves like spiders, his hands littered with black ink and swirling designs.
"Those are, uh, pretty cool kid." Happy nodded at Alex's hands, never taking his eyes off of the transfixing images decorating his skin. Alex snatched the yellow envelope, and his eyes were trained on the floor.
"Thanks, my artist is really proud of them." He smiled a little, never meeting Happy's gaze. "Thanks for the envelope sir. I'm just...erm...really tired so..."
"Oh, right, yeah. The elevator is over there." He pointed to the far corner, and Alex walked over to his grab luggage before shuffling to the elevators, yawning loudly. "My name is Happy by the way." The guard said, and Alex giggled before turning around.
"Yeah, that tracks." He said sarcastically, just as the elevator doors slid open. "Nice to meet you Happy." He glanced down at the envelope, and then pressed his floor number.
"You too kid." Happy said as the door clunked shut.
--Alex's point of view--
As soon as the elevator door closed, Alex broke his composure, his fake smile ebbing away. Jesus, Happy was crazy. Sighing for what seemed like the tenth time within fifteen minutes, Alex placed his luggage on the ground and put his head in his hands. He took a minute to clear his eyes of tiredness, waiting for the doors to open.
When the doors eventually slid open, a poorly decorated hallway was revealed. Everything about it was clumsy. He picked his luggage up, slung it over his shoulder, and exited the elevator, hearing a pleasant ding signaling the doors closing. As he walked, Alex didn't see any other occupied rooms, and he supposed that everyone else was on another floor. His room was at the other end of the hallway for some reason, and it wasn't a short walk. He did note that the room was the closest in proximity to the stairs, which was a bonus. He opened the envelope and plucked the keys from inside. Slowly, he inserted the key into the door, and twisted, hearing a click. He tugged the keys out of the handle and put them back in the envelope. Upon opening the door, Alex walked into the room, dumped his bags on the ground without looking around very much, and went to take a cold shower.
Ten minutes later, he stepped out of the shower. Alex grabbed the towel closest to himself and surveyed his surroundings a bit more carefully. The bathroom had nice tile floors with posh rugs, and tile walls as well. It also came with a bath and a shower, which he had seen only once or twice. The mirrors were crystal clear, and Alex said mirrors because there were three above double sinks, as if there was going to be another person in there. There was even a full-body mirror on the wall opposite the shower, hanging on the door. He promptly took it down, and carried it out of the bathroom, shoving it into the closet. Later, he realized it was the larger closet of the two, so he stashed it in the smaller one. Once dressed in pajamas, he looked around the room.
The room he was placed in was immense. A king-sized bed, a couch, two t.vs, a fireplace, two closets, a wonderful view of the city and the best parts, an x-box by the tv nearest his bed, and a gaming pc at the desk in the corner. Upon further inspection, there was also a large balcony. He didn't really know what to do, but he didn't want to look at the schedule or the map. However, he couldn't sleep. Not yet. So he cleaned out his suitcase, and duffel bag. Everything was put in its rightful spot, and nothing was left behind or forgotten. As he finished up, he pulled a pack of cigarettes and a lighter out of his back pocket. The balcony in his room overlooked the entire city, so Alex sat on the ground looking out at the city and enjoying the cold breeze while smoking. When he was done, he went inside and put the cigarette butt under water, before placing it in a crisps bag and putting that in the trash.
Having nothing else to do, Alex climbed into bed and fell asleep, but not before setting an alarm for 9:30, an hour and a half before his first official meeting with his employers.
...
When Alex woke up, he knew he was dreaming. He could always tell. This didn't make the content of the dreams any less terrifying. This time, he was dreaming about Jack's death. He knew how this went. There was film as evidence. He could watch it at any time if he so chose, though he never did. Mostly because he was the reason Jack was dead in the first place. Guilt washed over him every time he even thought about the tape, watching it was totally out of the question. Yet, he wasn't totally to blame.
MI6 killed everyone they touched, and in turn, Alex killed everyone he touched. It was like he had the plague, and just looking at someone would give it to them. He talked to a boy in his class once and two days later he was in the hospital after getting hit by a car.
So sometimes, in his dreams, Alex would be in the middle of blaming himself, and suddenly Mrs. Jones, or Alan Blunt, or whoever would become him and he would become someone else, maybe a bystander.
But on this night, something new happened.
In this dream, Alex wasn't Alex.
Alex was Julius.
A/N, 6/12/2022: Hope you enjoyed!! I'll be adding more soon!