It rained Monday. A steady downpour that drenched everything within minutes. Ben had to give Ian a ride to school before he went to work, so as a result, the teen was there nearly thirty minutes early. With nothing better to do, he found his classroom, and sat in his desk. A chair had been placed beside his to accommodate Jasmine, so she could tutor him during class.

He propped his head up with a hand, and stared out of the windows. Gray skies, gray rain. Lovely weather. It didn't take long for him to grow bored with the view, so he laid his head down on the desk.

He found himself recalling what Wolf had said the day before. About how innocent people ended up dead because of a mistake. Because they didn't realize the people had been there, and because they never thought to check the entire cabin. . .

It wasn't just himself that had been responsible for innocent people's deaths. Wolf, the K-Unit, and probably a lot of other military units had seen such things through. Although, unlike Wolf, he had directly taken their lives.

Enough. I don't want to think about this. He was just so tired. Tired of the struggle to keep it all hidden away behind a mask. Sick of lying to Tom. Shouldn't he just stop hiding, or cowering like Scare had said? Couldn't he just behimself?

No! I can't do that! What would Tom do if he knew? What would I do? Could I really continue living normally knowing that I -

He shivered, suddenly frightened of the way his thoughts were going. Like countless times before, he emptied his mind, and relaxed slightly, drifting in the quiet, still emptiness. It was a kind of a peace, in a way.

The attempt to doze was interrupted as someone approached his desk. Ian ignored the person, hoping that whoever it was would get the hint and go away. But the person seemed to just stand there, breathing lightly. After a long moment, Ian lifted his head to see who it was.

Oh. He was too tired to feel much surprise, or even any emotion for that matter. "What do you want?"

Tom sat down in Jasmine's chair, fixing Ian with an intent stare. "You're different," he said simply.

"Everybody's different," Ian retorted.

"No, that's not what I meant. You're different from anybody else. You don't act like a student. And you just. . .look different."

"What, do I have two heads or something?"

Tom didn't see the humor. He was being totally serious, and Ian realized that Tom wasn't leaving until he got what he wanted. A faint smile crossed Ian's face. Tom. . . Tom could be pretty persistent when he wanted to be. He recalled a few times in the past when Tom had displayed that dogged determination, back when the two of them were just simple friends without all of this mess between them. . .

"You're a lot like Alex was," Tom told him quietly. "Yet, you're not. You knew him, and you knew how he died. And I know that you're what he used to be, a spy. I know that, and I won't tell anyone. But I want to know. . ." he leaned closer, lowered his voice. "Who are you, really?"

Ian stiffened, his eyes growing cold. "That's none of your business."

"You can't scare me away, Ian. Is that even your real name?" Tom didn't even flinch at Ian's icy glare. "I don't know what's going on, but you're going to tell me. Because if you don't, I'm going to tell everyone that you're a spy working for MI6."

"They're not going to believe you," Ian said calmly. "And it's not even true. I'm not a -"

"Don't try to mess with me! Alex was my best friend! I have a right to know what's going on, because he was involved with you!" Tom stopped, his face not even a foot away from Ian's as he glared at the transfer student.

Ian was completely flabbergasted. This was Tom? A student who acted more like a boy than a man, who thought that being a secret agent was nothing more than a glorified, adventurous game? A boy who was always goofing off, being the careless, laid-back type who really didn't take a serious view to life?

A small, sad smile crept onto his face. Looks like Alex's 'death' really affected him. "Alex was shot right here," Ian tapped the left side of his own chest, right where the wicked little pink scar marked his latest injury.

"A sniper from Scorpia killed him," he went on softly. "That's why you should just forget about this. It's too dangerous for you to know anymore. If you know too much, you could be the next target." I'll make sure that won't everhappen!

Tom watched him with a strange expression. He remained silent, and Ian wondered if he'd said his last thought out loud. He couldn't have, could he?

"You look like him," Tom whispered, looking at Ian's face closely. "If your hair was blonde. . ..and if you smiled a bit, you'd look just like -"

Ian instant recoiled in alarm. He stammered, "L-like what?"

"Like Alex," Tom said, with no small amount of wonder. "Just who are you?"

"Uh. . ." For a brief second, his mind went totally blank of intelligent thought. Panic reigned instead, and he struggled to not let it show on his face.

Jasmine, of all people, saved him. She came bounding in, all bright and cheerful. "Hey, Ian!"

And for once, he was happy to see her.

ARAR

He had no last name, going simply by the name of Shane. He was one of those generic people, looking like any kind of intelligent university professor, or teacher, or perhaps a scientist. A scholarly type, he liked to think of himself. It was rather ironic, since his next target was going to be a school. Brookland School.

By all standards, it wasn't a large school. It had just over twelve hundred students, which wasn't that much considering the size of the other schools. He had taken everything into consideration, and had decided that this was the school he wanted. The perfect target. Easy to take, easy to hold, and people in general were very easy to manipulate when it came to children.

The man named Shane wondered why he hadn't thought of this earlier. He checked his watch. Almost half past nine. Time to start preparations, for in one hour, Brookland School and all of its bratty British children would be under his control. And the lovely government would have no choice but to meet his demands.

ARAR

"Now that I've showed you the process, I want each of you to do the next three problems in your books." Mrs. Geralds squinted severely at them, making sure that every student was paying their absolute best attention as possible. As her strict gaze passed over Ian, she frowned.

The boy seemed to be in a whispered argument with that tutor of his. She never did approve of the girl as a tutor - she would've made a better cheerleader than an educative assistant - but what the higher-up said, went. "Is there a problem, Mr. Daniels, Ms. Jasmine?"

Both jerked their heads up. The boy had a faintly irritated scowl, while the girl bore a sickly sweet smile. "Oh no, everything is fine, Mrs. Geralds," the girl responded. "I'm just trying to help Ian understand, but he seems to be having some issues -"

"I see. Just keep it down, then. We are here to learn, not to create a ruckus." With that said, Mrs. Geralds turned her attention to the other students.

At that moment, the intercom crackled, and Mr. Bray's voice, the principal, came over the speakers. "G-good morning, everyone. I'd like to ask everyone - all the students and all the staff - to. . .to come immediately to the gymnasium for a quick assembly. There's. . .some important information that we all should know." Abruptly, the principal signed off, and the intercom system fell silent.

The entire classroom was silent. Heads were lifted, looking up with a faint surprise at the sudden call for an assembly. Mr. Bray was usually an organized principal, rarely calling everyone to the gym without any advance notice. He was a firm believer that students should have little interruptions in their studies, and often scheduled any announcements or activities at the very beginning, or the end of the day. However, he was the principal of Brookland school, and whatever he said was what happened.

Mrs. Geralds brought her hands together in a sharp clap that grabbed everyone's attention. "Well, you heard him - line up in front of the door. We will have to continue these problems later."

As Ian rose to his feet with the rest of the class, he couldn't help but feel bothered by something. The sudden announcement over the speakers had made him uneasy. He wasn't sure if it was his paranoia, but Mr. Bray's voice had sounded. . .strained. Or disturbed.

"Aww," Jasmine tossed her head, flipping her hair over a shoulder. "I hate these things. They're so boring."

Ian scowled at her. "Why don't you stay behind then? It'd be much more pleasant without you."

She humphed, eyes narrowing slightly. "You're not going to get rid of me that easily, Mr. Spy-boy."

He spun his head to glare at her, giving a warning hiss. Not that there was any real danger, but it was extremely irritating to have such a loose-tongued vixen around. Especially when she knew enough about his life to ruin the illusion of normalcy he tried to hold up. Jasmine merely smiled sweetly.

Honestly. The girl wanted to be a spy, and she acted like this? She wouldn't last a minute on the field; her own stupidity would be her undoing. As everyone shifted to the front of the room, forming a crooked line, Ian absentmindedly joined them. He was second last; Jasmine came behind him.

And then it hit him. Mr. Bray was scared. That faint hesitation and that slight tremor were clear symptoms that something had frightened the principal. Classes at Scorpia had involved reading body language and irregularities in the voice in order to predict people's thoughts and actions. So Ian knew that something bad was going on.

He became lost in thought, trying to figure it out. Or maybe he was just thinking too much into the whole situation. Maybe he just received bad news - a family member could have been in some sort of accident. Then why call the whole school to the gymnasium? Maybe he heard of a flu epidemic going around. That could be a possible explanation. . .

But any of those ideas just didn't fit the bill. Something deep inside, a honed instinct, warned Ian that it was something worse than the flu. It told him to check it out, to slip away and make sure that everything was all right.

However, that was something Alex Rider would do. Alex would act with little thought in order to satisfy his curiosity or suspicions. But what am I? Ian wondered darkly. If I am not Alex. . .am I just a mask? A empty shell?

'...he's merely missing. . .perhaps hiding somewhere. Cowering in some dark place because he's too afraid to face the world.' The words came unbidden to his mind, whispering inside his head like the wind over a field of tall grasses. He shivered, trying to push the whispers away, but they persisted, determined to make him crack, to break.

"Hey!" Jasmine poked him between the shoulder blades. Ian blinked, and realized that everyone was walking out into the hall. He hurried to catch up.

Students chatted amongst themselves, wondering what the important announcement could be. Some speculated that they were getting a new pool, while another boy declared that the school was going to be shut down.

Despite all the chatter, Ian found it strangely quiet and eerie. Down the hall, he saw another class making its way to the gymnasium. There were no other teachers or adults in sight other than the homeroom teachers. Even Wolf, who usually seemed to hang around in the hallways, was nowhere to be seen. It wasn't anything major, or out of the unusual, but coupled with the uneasy feeling in his gut, it just made him all the more wary.

Ian noticed a men's room just ahead. He slowed slightly, looking around. Jasmine was stifling a yawn behind him. Mrs. Geralds was at the front of the line, leading the march. Tom had been looking back at him, still wearing that strange expression. When Ian met his gaze, Tom hastily looked forward.

The men's room was only a few steps ahead. Before he was even aware that a decision had been made, Ian found himself slipping through the door. He entered a stall, closed the door, and waited.

What am I doing?!

The door suddenly opened, and someone entered. He stiffened, holding his breath.

"Ian?"

He sagged, giving a mental groan. Why her? He pushed open the the stall door, stepped out. Without a word, he grabbed her by the arm, and yanked her back into the stall with him. He locked the door.

"What are you doing?" She exclaimed, pulling away from him in shock.

Good question. I have no idea. He threw a hand over her mouth. "Shhh!" he hissed. "Do you want to get caught?"

She pushed his hand away, her face disgusted. "What are you doing?" She demanded, but this time, she kept her voice down.

"I don't know. Something's just. . .strange."

"Oh, I know that. That something's you!"

"This is a men's room."

"So?"

"You followed me into a men's room."

"And. . .?"

"That's just wrong! And creepy! Why - ?!"

The door suddenly creaked open again. Both of them froze. A moment of silence, as the door was held open. Ian looked down, and inwardly cursed. Jasmine stood in front of him - her feet could clearly be seen. He was bit behind her, so his feet were hidden, to some degree. Immediately, he gingerly stepped up onto the toilet seat, which squeaked in response. The sound seemed to be deafeningly loud. He cringed.

"Hey!" A man's voice called out harshly. "You - get out of there!"

Jasmine looked up at Ian, her eyes suddenly wide. She realized what he had done, hiding his own feet so the man would think it was only one person in the stall. And if Ian had moved fast enough, before the man noticed the two sets of feet, he'd be safe. As long as Jasmine didn't ruin everything. He met her gaze pleadingly, hoping she got the idea.

"Please," he mouthed silently, then kicked himself mentally. What was he thinking? The girl would never -

"Come on!" The man's tone grew harsher. "I can see your feet - if you don't come out now, I'll come get you myself! Everyone is to gather at the gymnasium, and that includes you!"

Ian closed his eyes. Well, this was it. His attempt to find out what was going on was thwarted. He made to get down from the toilet seat, when Jasmine poked his leg savagely. His eyes flew open, and noticed her dark glare.

"You owe me," she mouthed silently. Then she unlocked the door, and slipped outside, careful to keep Ian hidden.

"A girl?!" The man was incredulous. Obviously, he hadn't been around teenagers for very long if he was surprised by a girl in the guy's lavatory. "What are you doing here?"

"I wanted to see what it looked like?" Jasmine flicked her hair back calmly.

The man heaved a huge sigh. "Come on, get out of here. Now we're going to be late."

Ian listened silently as the two left, the door swinging shut behind them. He waited, still perched on the toilet. Seconds ticked by slowly, becoming long, drawn out minutes. He checked his watch. Three minutes and twenty-five seconds passed. He waited until five minutes went by.

By now, Mrs. Geralds was sure to notice that he'd gone missing, and would probably send someone to get him. He needed to get out of here before then. Maybe hide in one of the empty classrooms for a bit. No, that'd be too obvious. A janitor's closet would be better. Or even the staff's lounge room.

He jumped off the toilet, and exited the stall. He went to the door. Pressed his ear to it. Listened for a few moments. Nothing. He pulled the door open, and stepped out. Looked both ways. The halls were empty.

Great. Now what should he do? I don't know what I'm thinking...I know Ian is supposed to be a spy on medical leave, but really. Ian's not supposed to be like this! All right, then. What would Ian do? Ian was a child spy, like him.However, Ian was the total opposite of Alex Rider.

So why was he doing this? He felt like grabbing his head and screaming out in frustration. I'm Ian Daniels! I'm Ian Daniels! I'm Ian Daniels!

He grit his teeth, and tried to gain that empty blankness once again. This time, it refused to come. The whispers came instead, reminding him that he was hiding in the dark, that he was too scared to break out of the empty shell. Reminding him that it was all just one big bad mistake.

NO! He turned and ran down the hall towards the gym, trying to outrun those stupid whispers. He neared a corner, and skidded around it.

Only to stop dead in his tracks.

A man stood in his way.

A man in black clothing, and a big, black gun. His mind went white.

Sometimes, things happen, and there's nothing we can do about them, the whispers said.

He stared at the man. The man stared at him, a slow smile spreading across his sharp, angular features. "Well, what have we here?"

Why did you kill them?

"Someone who got a little lost, perhaps?" The man hefted his gun, lifting the muzzle until it was level with the boy's face.

Did you want to kill them?

The boy's face drained of all color, and his brown eyes fixated on the gun. He was frozen in place. He didn't breathe.

You were manipulated, Alex.Scorpia lied, and manipulated you into a corner. You killed Tulip Jones. . . a huge mistake. But you're not a murderer, Alex.

"Boss said nothing against wasting a lost kid a bit earlier," the man grinned a disgusting grin. His finger curled against the trigger.

The crack spread deeper across the shell, and at that moment, he knew.

It was over.

Alex lunged forward, and a gunshot shattered the air.