Journey - REVISED EDITION

Guilt, Secrets and Flashbacks

NOTE: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, WHICH RIGHTFULLY BELONG TO ANTHONY HOROWITZ. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT.

Sometimes revelations come in the morning, when the sun rises, and the dew glitters, and everything's new.

Sometimes revelations come in the middle of the night, when the moon's glowing, and the world's asleep and all's right with the world.

Sometimes revelations come in the form of love, joy, childbirth, adventure, heartbreak.

But they also come during life-threatening situations. Like, for example, when there's bullets flying around you, or a when psychopath terrorist is about to blow your brains out.

For Alex, this particular time was lingering more on the terror of claustrophobia. Who knew Eagle got attached so easily?

Alex took a deep breath, trying to get oxygen into his lungs (a losing battle really), but it was rather difficult with a heavy SAS soldier cutting off his airways.

"Oh my GOSH, Alex don't ever do anything like that again!" Eagle gushed, while a laughing Falcon attempted to pull him off of Alex.

"I didn't do anything." Alex protested, placing a hand on his chest in a weak attempt to stop it from aching. His head was spinning; he definitely still had the drugs in his system.

"Yes, you did. It's time you owned up to your mistakes, Alex." Eagle said sternly.

Falcon stood there, one arm flung across Eagle, the other clutching his stomach, his hilarious laughter echoing off the white-washed walls. He was crying, Alex realized, when the brown-haired Irishman wiped his eyes.

"Seriously. I didn't do anything." Alex continued, confused and a little wary by the fact that two very grown men were acting very ridiculous right in front of him.

"Your heart stopped, Alex. That's what he's referring too." Falcon replied, his face sobering up, his tears mopped by an old blue sweatshirt that must have belonged to someone else at some point, because there is no way it's his size. For one, it's way too small. The ends of the sleeves barely reach his wrists, and the sleeves hug his muscular arms. But, if he is wearing something that's not his, it must be for a sentimental reason, thus meaning he's upset about something. Was it his fault? Was Alex the reason he was upset?

If Alex had protested Ian's leaving for Cornwall, if he'd thrown a fit and made Ian stay, his uncle wouldn't have died. A small part of his brain reminded him that hundreds of school children, probably him included, would have died if Ian, and subsequently him, wouldn't have gone on that mission.

If Alex hadn't let Jack go with him on his mission, if he hadn't let her try to escape (because he knew it was pointless but there was no other way) then she wouldn't be dead.

If Alex hadn't flirted with Sabina, and agreed to go on vacation with her than Scorpia never would have targeted her family, and her dad never would have been crippled and they never would have moved to America.

Alex was always the reason people's lives were ruined.

"Hey. Focus buddy. I'm right here."

Alex blinked, and suddenly he was alone with Falcon. Eagle was long gone. The Irishman was holding his hand, running his fingers over Alex's knuckles. Alex's chest felt tight.

"Hey." Falcon smiled. "You blanked out for a moment."

"Is it my fault?" Alex whispered.

"What?" Falcon moved closer, trying to hear Alex's soft voice.