Alex Rider: Alternate Timelines

The fall

Alex Rider woke up with a start in his bed, gasping for breath. Rubbing his eyes he took a deep breath to calm his racing heart, while frowning uneasily. He couldn't remember what the dream had been about, but it left him with a lingering feeling of unease. Shrugging the chill that had momentarily settled on his heart, he sat up completely and shivered when his feet entered in contact with the frigid floor of his room. Getting dressed in slow-motion, his awareness slowly trickled back to him through the thick wall of left-over sleepy drowsiness.

Making his way through the kitchen, he grabbed a toast before opening the refrigerator's door to take the orange juice out. A woman walked in, seemingly just as sleepy as Alex was. The boy said without moving his attention from pouring himself a glass of juice.

"Mornin' Mom."

Helen Rider née Beckett answered a greeting back in the same language, that is to say French, while starting up the coffee pot and added, with a soft smile:

"Better hurry up love, unless you want to have to tell Dad you were late again for school...?"

Rolling his eyes in a typical teenager fashion - appropriate since Alex was merely 15 - he grunted, before rushing up the stairs with his half-eaten toast to get his school things.
No matter how old he became, his father's scoldings would always be a bit mortifying, and all-in-all Not Pleasant, not that he would would ever admit to that, now that he was fifteen. Crashing back down the stairs, he yelled, knowing that John was already off to work, having to leave the most early of the three:

"See you later mom!"

He then unlocked his well-worn bike and took off pedaling in direction of school. This was going to be a great day, Alex could just feel it.

##################

Alex Rider was not having a very good day.

It had started with waking up in cold sweat from yet another nightmare; it wasn't an unusual occurrence, but it still was very disagreeable. Then the daily realization that he wasn't back in Chelsea with Jack, but rather with the Pleasures in America had hit him. Once again, nothing new, but still, definitely a nasty reminder and one that always felt like a slap in the face.

After he managed to escape the awkward atmosphere of the crowded kitchen, he walked out to see that his borrowed (from the Pleasures) bike had been stolen (what kind of looser would steal a guy's bike?!). The day had not gotten better when he got to school, walking, as his other means of transportation had been taken away, which made him late for his first class: another point in the This-day-sucks category. He had no friends real enough to have decent interactions and the two local bullies, Colin and Clayton, had been harping at him since day one on the basis that he was the 'new guy', and that he refused to defend himself, at least physically. He could have so easily beaten their faces in, and every day was a struggle to not let in the temptation. But really, the cherry on top of this messed-up sundae of a day, was the assassin.

The guy wasn't even after Alex! It went a little like this:

Walking back alone after school, since Sabina had stayed with her more-than-friends friend, Blake, Alex had seen a shop named "Pat's Delicious Pastries" and had felt nostalgic about one of Jack's microwave cake that respected the ten-minutes rule and still tasted delicious.

So he went in to buy a pastry or two before going back to the house, but as lost in his bittersweet memory as he was, Alex had failed to notice the very obvious CLOSED sign that hung on the doorknob as well as the closed shutter. If he had registered those details, he might not have been as surprised to see a man pointing a gun at another man's head as he was, but since he had, as mentioned before, had his head in clouds, he was gobsmacked by the scene unfolding. While Alex was staring there dumbfounded with a part of his brain wailing "Not again!", the armed man pulled the trigger sending the other guy on the floor with a perfectly round hole in the center of his forehead.

The sound of a gunshot snapped Alex out of his shocked stance, and he bolted out the door just as the murderer aimed his gun in his direction. He heard a bullet impact the wood of the doorframe, but he was already out the door, blood pumping through his veins. Unluckily or luckily, the street was empty of any passerby, which meant no witnesses that might deter the Bad Guy. Knowing he had seconds before the man emerged from the shop, Alex dived for the shop just beside "Pat's Delicious Pastries", which looked like an old antique shop.

The door opened silently, its hinges seemingly well-oiled. Thanking every deity he knew, Alex skipped inside just in time to see Mr. Murder rush off on the sidewalk, his gun still in hand. The man started to do a slow 360°, as his prey waited with baited breath not daring a single muscle twitch. On the other side of the curb, the sound of a garbage lid falling to the ground disturbed the unnaturally silent atmosphere, and the armed guy bolted in the direction of the sound. Finally letting out a relieved breath, Alex stood up from his crouching position, but stayed inside the shop in case the man came back. Walking towards the back, the fifteen years old boy took all the weird constructions in with a slight eyebrow raise.

He felt the adrenaline slowly receding as he neared the back of the store which left him feeling hollow and empty. He slid down against the wall taking deep breaths, his face in his hand. Just as he was beginning to really relax, the doorknob started to turn. Throwing himself at the nearest possible exit and/or hiding place, Alex opened the small door behind him before jumping in and closing the door at his back. Not waiting around to be discovered, wether by an angry shop owner or a murderous stranger, the teenager trudged forward in the darkness of the corridor. At the end of the stretch was another door, this time adorned of a flickering light that permitted to read the warning written on the wall beside the exit. It spelled: "Go forth and find what your heart seeks, but beware of the flowing sands. As the last grain, you will fall, your soul cleared of darkness."

Not seeing any indication of any concrete danger besides obscure texts, Alex opened the door and stepped through without thinking twice about it, after what could be worst than a bullet in his brains?

Famous. Last. Words.

##################

Meanwhile, Ian Rider was tranquil in his favorite chaise and wearing a silken robe, while reading a book his brother had gotten him for his birthday that he had never had the chance to read. He had a cup of warm tea in front of him with a few biscuit to add a bit of sweetness.

Just as he was getting to the good part - the part where the author was explaining a particularly neat trick one could do with a Beretta gun, the spy heard a faint whooshing noise and saw a young man appear of thin air and crash into his coffee table, the impact rendering the fair-headed individual unconscious and utterly destroying the table and everything on it. Blinking owlishly up from his reading glasses (a secret he kept from everyone, as they were so hideous, he felt ashamed), the super spy had precisely one (1) thought in mind:

"I loved that mug."

===Thanks for reading ;P===