Declassified file for emmi-loo

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Author: DreamsInBlackAndWhite
Recipient: emmi-loo
Title: Flash of Light
Characters/Pairing(s): Alex, Ben, Jack. Ben/Jack pairing.
Summary: Life changes irrevocably for Alex from one moment to the next. Life is stagnated and sorrowful for Jack, constantly. And Ben has always been the one who's just there. Until he's not.
Rating: T
Disclaimer: All Alex Rider characters herein are the property of Anthony Horowitz and the Penguin Group. No copyright infringement is intended.
Warning(s): Death
Word Count: ~3,500
Author's Notes: Writing Flash of Light was like being tortured. It was slow and painful and I guess I avoided writing it for a while. I suppose that's not really torture, but for me the word seems appropriate enough. It was the story that just wouldn't come out. I mean, it was certainly a bigger challenge than expected. It was a case of two steps forward, one step back. Anyway, enough of my whining. I hope it fits my assignment criteria and I hope somebody enjoys it.


Flash of Light

Alex Rider didn’t know what to think when he came home from school one day and found Ben Daniels. In his living room. Drinking tea. With Jack.

It was more than a little bizarre.

In fact, that day had been more than a little bizarre. It had started off normally enough though. He’d gotten up, gotten ready for school and eaten breakfast. Jack hadn’t come down; he’d told her a few weeks before that he was old enough to make his own breakfast and see himself out. He’d left early to make it to school on time by foot; the injury to his leg was still painful and kept him from cycling.

He’d called up a goodbye before he left. School had been an ordeal, but then it usually was. The school counsellor had ambushed him towards the end of second period and taken him to her office for an interrogation over dry biscuits and paper cups of water. She’d told him that a few of his teachers were concerned that he wasn’t taking his academic growth seriously.

He’d assured her that his academic growth was the most important thing in his life and she’d looked at him like he’d clubbed a baby seal to death on her desk. He supposed she liked doing her own job.

She’d said that the staff had noticed he was exhibiting some ‘concerning behaviours’. She’d insisted on giving him some pamphlets, most of them about managing exam stress. Alex wondered if they made pamphlets for teenage spies who went back to school and realized that the entire education system held nothing for them anymore. He didn’t think so, but he thought they should.

He’d eaten lunch with Tom, loyal Tom who stuck with him no matter what other people said. Not in a weird, are-they-just-friends way but in a way that made Alex wonder why. He wasn’t exactly a sunny person and he didn’t suppose he was that fun to be around.

The last classes had dragged, as usual. He’d walked home feeling washed out and tired, tired in his bones. And when he’d let himself in quietly, he’d poked his head into the living room to say hello before heading up to his room and he’d been confronted by Jack. And Ben.

Huh. Going over the events of the day in his head didn’t help. He couldn’t remember ever mentioning Ben to Jack. He didn’t know they were familiar. But seeing them there, in the living room, they looked very familiar. Like old friends. Or… a couple?

They were sitting on the two person sofa together with two big mugs of tea on the coffee table in front of them. A DVD was playing; something with Hugh Grant but neither of them was watching it. They weren’t talking either. Just sitting there, smiling and enjoying each other’s company.

Alex hadn’t noticed before how much younger Jack looked. The last time he’d looked at her, really looked at her, her face had seemed older and sharper, worried. He had a feeling it was to do with him. And now, here with Ben, she looked happy.

"I’m home," he said quietly.

Jack jumped a little, startled, and glanced over at the clock on the mantelpiece. She hadn’t been expecting him. Ben turned, smiling easily, looking a lot less guilty that Jack did. "Alex. I didn’t know… Sorry. I wasn’t watching the clock. Do you want me to… make you something? To eat?" She sprang to her feet, fussing.

"No, thank you. I’ve got homework to do. I’ll be upstairs if you need me," Alex replied.

He closed the living room door and moved upstairs to his room, changing out of his school uniform. He did his home work at his desk. He had to re-read everything he wrote, constantly correcting. He sat staring at his copy of ‘To Kill A Mockingbird’ for at least twenty minutes, reading the same sentence over and over again. His eyes were so tired.

He listened to his iPod. He lay on his bed. He played Xbox. Jack called him for dinner and when he came down, Ben was gone.

"How do you know Ben?" Alex picked at his food, shovelling rice and chicken from place to place on his plate. Jack kept her eyes on her dinner, taking small bites and glancing at him quickly every couple of minutes when she sipped her water.

"Ben? Oh, I don’t. Not really. Not well, anyway. He knocked around one day, before you met As- before you went to Australia. We got talking and he told me that it was his job to look after you. We’ve gone for dinner a few times but we’re just friends," Jack scrambled, watching him keenly for a reaction.

"Jack. Are you lying?" Alex inquired flatly.

Jack’s cheeks flushed scarlet and she bit her bottom lip. That was the only answer Alex needed. He set his fork down and looked at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I- Alex, it’s not… God, it looked so bad, you coming in and seeing us together. I should have told you. But I’m not lying, really. We’re just friends," Jack insisted.

A few minutes passed, the steady scrape of Jack’s fork against her plate the only noise in the kitchen.

"But you don’t want to be," Alex offered.

"Huh? I don’t want to be what?"

"Just friends. You want more," Alex stated. Jack flushed again and dropped her fork with a loud clang. She frowned at him across the dinner table and he got the feeling that she was angry.

"Alex, that’s none of your business," she bit out sharply. Alex blinked, surprised. Jack never spoke to anybody like that. She didn’t snap. He must have been closer to the mark than he’d thought.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. If it made Jack happy then she wouldn’t be sad about him any more. She wouldn’t have to miss Ian as much.

"You want more from Ben," Alex repeated, clarifying his thoughts. He wasn’t sure why he said it out loud and he wasn’t sure why Jack’s anger suddenly tripled.

"That’s enough. Goddamn it Alex, why do you have to be so selfish!? Why can’t you just talk to me instead of insisting on doing everything alone!? You need some help!" she snarled, picking up her plate and scraping off with more force than was strictly necessary. Then she threw it into the dishwasher with a loud smack.

"What do you mean?" he asked slowly.

"The nightmares, Alex. You think I don’t know you haven’t slept in days!? You think I haven’t been worried sick!? You’re a mess! You isolate yourself from everybody and any relationships you used to have, you’re just neglecting them completely! Your marks have plummeted; you’re destroying yourself! You need to talk to somebody Alex!" Jack verbally assaulted. Each accusation brought a stinging pain to Alex, like there was glass being lodged in his brain shard by shard. His usual hopeless bubble was suddenly attacked by guilt and shame, threatening to overpower him. He couldn’t breathe.

He could see it, burned into his eyes. He was back in that steel compartment in Cray’s sick fantasy world and he was realizing that he was going to die there and he couldn’t find the energy to kick out because when exactly did dying become so tempting?

Jack stormed out of the kitchen, slamming the door behind her. He heard her in the living room, crying loudly. He wondered if he should go to her but decided against it.

Ben was back at the weekend.

When Alex went downstairs on Saturday morning, there he was. He was sitting at the kitchen table, nursing a mug of coffee and a serious looking newspaper. He looked up and smiled when he saw Alex in the doorway.

"Morning Alex. D’you want some coffee?"

Alex shook his head politely, pouring himself some cereal.

"There’s, uh, no milk. Sorry. I’ll go down and get some," Ben offered.

Alex sat down opposite him at the table. He hadn’t realized before, but now that Ben’s dark eyes were fixed intently on him he realized that they were very expressive.

"D’you want to come with me? I think we should talk."

"Okay."

Alex shrugged on his coat, plain black and simple. Ben held the door open for him and then followed him out onto the street. He matched his stride to Alex’s with ease. The teenager got the feeling that Ben usually walked quicker, but the black haired man didn’t complain about the lack of pace.

"Alex, when I was seven my father died."

"I’m sorry for your loss."

"It was a long, long time ago. Feels like a century. Anyway, not six months later my mother started going with another man. It was horrible. I was glad she was happy but it felt like she was just throwing my father’s memory out the window. The man, his name was Howard. I thought he was a bit of a bell end but that was mostly just because he wasn’t my father and he never would be. Which way to the nearest corner shop?"

"The alley on the right," Alex said, turning. Ben followed comfortably.

"Anyway, I grew up hard. I wore my mother out and it wasn’t until last year that I finally asked her what she was doing, going with Howard before my father had even been buried a year. What she said that day, it stayed with me. She told me that he made her happy and that should have been enough for me. Then she told me that it wasn’t like she was asking to me to spend time with Howard. Then she called me a selfish little bastard," Ben chuckled.

They crossed a road, silence between them, and went into the corner shop. It was cluttered with boxes and cartons and there was dim music playing in the background. The man at the counter leered suspiciously at both of them when Ben paid. Once they had the milk, they left the shop. Ben didn’t speak. Alex decided he preferred it that way. He was just grateful Ben wasn’t one of those people who wanted to hug him. Or talk about what exactly he was doing with Jack. Alex didn’t really want to know.

On their way back down the alley, a loud whimper cut through the air. Alex peered into the shadows between two large steel bins, squinting to make out the shivering wreck that lay there. It was a dog and it was in a bad way.

There was blood and mangled fur around the nook and Alex stopped there, crouching. He didn’t want to alarm the injured dog. Ben leaned in, cooing comforting sounds at the animal.

"The poor thing," Ben breathed. The dog lay its head down on it paws, whimpering and mewling.

"He doesn’t have any fight in him anymore," Alex offered.

"We should put him out of his misery," Ben edged closer, reaching out a hand, brushing his fingers over the crispy fur. The blood was dry and flaky to touch. He’d been there a while; they must have walked past him on their way. Alex blinked, swallowing hard. His breathing felt ragged and he didn’t think it should have been.

"I can’t," He conceded. The dog was hurt, that much was obvious.

"We have to. It would be inhumane to let him suffer," Ben said levelly. He slipped out of his jacket and set it on the ground, petting the dog gently. It mewled in pain. Ben caressed the broken animal with gentle hands, shushing it, and it whimpered with eyes full of trust. It was killing Alex.

"I can’t do it," Alex managed to bite out, turning on his heel. He waited, crouching by the wall at the end of the alley, gulping down air. His hands were trembling and his heart felt painful. His legs suddenly weighed a tonne. The alley was dirty and cold and this dog was dying, all alone and in pain. And nobody cared, not one person.

Ben was right. They should end the dog’s misery. He heard movement behind him but didn’t want to think about what was going on there. Ben eventually emerged and stood beside him in silence for a while.

"It was the right thing to do," Ben offered eventually. He’d done it, done what Alex couldn’t, and yet he was comforting the trembling teenager?

Alex’s entire frame was racked over and over by shivers that enveloped him. He could barely breathe. He felt like his skin was going to split open and everything holding him together would disappear and he would just fall to pieces.

When he felt like he could speak again, he responded: "I know."

Ben helped him get up and then they went home and neither of them mentioned it again.

From then on almost every day when Alex came home, Ben was there with Jack. Sometimes they were talking, laughing. Other times, they were quiet and thoughtful. Alex never saw them argue.

Then Ben started staying overnight. He would drive Alex to school in the mornings, never attempting to make small talk. He ate dinner with them. Jack even started making full blown meals.

For a while, things were good.

In fact, things were better than they had been in a while. Alex’s world folded Ben in, enveloped him into normality. The daily routine shifted. Alex never searched out Ben in the house; Ben was always just there, ready to do anything anybody wanted. He was easy to be around; there was no drama or complication. What you saw was what you got. There was no side to the man. It was refreshing; no matter how hard or deep Alex searched, there didn’t appear to be any ulterior motive.

The one Saturday Alex went downstairs and Ben wasn’t there. There was just Jack, sitting on the sofa, crying. Alex didn’t know what to say. He waited in the living room door, watching her silently.

"Ben’s gone. A mission or something."

"Oh."

And that was that.

Alex didn’t see Ben Daniels until a month and a half later, the day of Guy Fawkes Night, November fifth. Ben was waiting for him at the school gates, smiling easily. He held his side like it pained him and he was noticeably pale and ill looking with large dark circles under his eyes. He’d lost weight.

"Alex. Hi. How are you keeping?"

"I’m fine. How are you?"

"Not a bother."

Life was full of well meant lies.

Ben fell into step beside the teenager comfortably and Alex adjusted the straps of his bag to sit more comfortably on his shoulders. "How’s Jack doing?"

"She’s upset. She cries a lot when she thinks I’m not listening."

"Oh."

Cars rumbled past noisily and Ben rummaged in his pockets. His hand emerged clutching a packet of cigarettes and a cheap plastic lighter. Alex hadn’t been aware that Ben smoked.

"Cigarettes kill," he blurted out quietly, chewing on the inside of his cheek.

"No. Bullets do. And grenades. And bombs. Roadside explosives. Artillery shells. Mortars. Drink driving, hell, any kind of driving. Crossing the road. Being overweight. BASE jumping. Cancer kills people. Cigarettes, they just make you care less."

Ben inhaled slowly and exhaled even slower. None of the worry and tensions etched into his face broke or ebbed even slightly.

"You have cancer?"

"Pancreas. I have about a point zero one percent chance of surviving past one year. They think it was from exposure to something toxic on a mission because it’s relatively advanced. I never smoked before the diagnosis. Not once."

"Are you in pain?"

"Yes. My upper abdomen. My back. I vomit a lot. I don’t eat much. I’m nauseas and I’ve lost a stone already, mostly muscle."

"Are… you know, your employers, providing treatment?"

"There’s not much they can do. My doctor says that what I’ve got, it was being cultivated as a weapon. I’m not supposed to tell anybody that. The others, Wolf and Eagle and Snake, I haven’t told them. There’s no treatment, Alex, no real chance."

"You want me to tell Jack, don’t you? You don’t want to see her again."

"No, Alex. I’d love to. I can’t though. I mean, a month and a half ago, I was fine. Now I’m like this. It’s not even natural and I can’t lie to her and watch her watching me waste away in front of her. I think that it would kill her."

When they reached the gates of the park, Ben slowed. Alex slackened his pace and stopped at the very first bench, sitting down. Ben sat beside him, dropping the cigarette and stepping on it, putting it out.

"Are you sure that they can’t treat it?"

"No. They can’t. It’s not normal cancer. They think it might be the latest biotechnological weapon. They think I’ll be dead soon. Very, very soon. They don’t say it, but I know that it’s what they think."

"Oh."

Across the field, a little boy was playing football with his father. He was smiling. The weather was bright and warmer than usual, not that anybody would be able to tell from looking at them sitting there. Ben, pale and thin and sick looking, wrapped up in a bulky winter coat.

Beyond the little boy and his father were people gathering sticks for the bonfire, browsing the park ground with keen eyes. The air was crisp and clean.

"What I’m here to tell you, Alex, is that I need you to do me a favour. I need you to help me. I need you to tell Jack that I left. I need you to tell her that I didn’t want her. I need you to tell her that I never wanted her. I need you to lie to her."

"That’s probably for the best."

"Thank you."

"You’re welcome."

Ben left not many minutes later, waving goodbye over his shoulder. Alex sat there for a while, watching the boy and his father. If ever there was any purpose to life, it was to leave a child behind to mourn. How else could you ever convince yourself that briefly you had lived?

Alex Rider once loved fireworks. When he was small, he’d asked Ian why they couldn’t stay forever. They do, Ian had replied. They’re called light bulbs. But when Alex looked up at the sky on Bonfire Night he was dazzled by something much more exciting than a light bulb. For a brief instant a tiny ball of fire destined to fall lit up the heavens.

By his side was Jack, her arm linked through his. She felt so very delicate and breakable, and Alex could feel the sadness and frustration rolling from her like waves. She was alone again with only him for company and she didn’t understand why. Alex hoped he’d been convincing. That she would belief his lies, find it in herself to hate Ben because Alex wasn’t sure he had enough left in him to hate for her.

Alex wasn’t sure he had enough left in him for anything, really. It wasn’t about Ben dying, not really. He’d hardly known the man. It wasn’t the sense of loss. It was watching how Jack felt. How she grieved for somebody who had been barely of a flash of light in their lives.

Privately, Alex resolved to try harder at staying alive, if only for Jack. To try harder at everything, really. He didn’t want to be a spark. He wanted to burn to the very end, stubbornly. He wanted to be mourned and lost and remembered.

From the balcony of his empty, lifeless apartment, Ben Daniels puffed smoke slowly into the air. The pressure in his chest was so great that he could barely breathe, could barely swallow.

The night air stung.

He flicked the last cigarette over the edge of the railing and threw the lighter after it for good measure. He didn’t cry when he slowly pulled his gun from the holster inside his jacket. He shivered against the cold then buttoned up his coat.

The metal of the gun was like ice in his mouth. Then he did what he’d been steeling himself for all day. He pulled it, pulled it hard. Too hard to regret.

And just before it clicked, his eyes snapped up to the sky. He stole his last glance at the stars. They burned his eyes, scorching his vision, imprinting themselves forever into his brain. A split second later, between that little lag, he was dead.

And still the fireworks soared through the moonlight, shooting comets, like flares to the heavens for some nameless god to save them.

Forever and ever.

The End