Carry On Wayward Son
Summary: The four times Alex made promises he couldn't keep. And the one time he made one he could. Terminally-ill!Alex. Somewhat AU. Set a year after Crocodile Tears, disregards Scorpia Rising.
“Carry On My Wayward Son, There’ll Be Peace When You Are Done. Lay Your Weary Head To Rest, Don’t You Cry no More,” - Carry On Wayward Son, Kansas
------------------1------------------
"I'm sorry, Mr Rider, but it appears you have an abnormally high white blood cell count,"
"You mean there's a chance I have leukaemia?" Alex couldn't quite grasp what the doctor before him, with his sympathetic knee pat and 'I'm here for you' eyes, was saying to him.
Leukaemia? How was it possible?
"There are some things we can do, if you wish to live your life. We can offer you che-"
"No, I don't want it,"
"Mr Rider, are you quite sure?"
"Yes. How long do I have?"
"Without any treatment, a month. With some, up to half a year. Are you certain you want no treatment?"
"Maybe I'll take some, so I can finish up the school year," Alex stared down unseeingly at his clasped hands. His knuckles were white, and they were shaking slightly.
"Very well, Mr Rider. Just make sure you come back constantly, so we can check up on you,”
“Will do, Doctor. Promise,”
------------------2------------------
"Jack? I'm back from the hospital," Alex called to his housekeeper and best friend.
"In the kitchen!" She replied, accent still strong even after the eight years she had lived in Britain. "How'd it go?" The red-head asked after Alex had sat down.
Alex was silent for some time. But he did tell her.
"Oh, Alex... I'm so sorry!" Jack burst into tears. Alex hugged her tightly.
"It's okay, Jack. We'll get through this. I promise,"
------------------3----------------
"Hey, Alex!" Tom grinned at his blond friend as he flopped onto the sofa in the Rider household. Alex smiled back, face tight. Tom noticed. "What's wrong?"
"Tom... I'm sick,"
"So?" Tom was confused. People got sick all the time, why had Alex called him over to tell him as much? "Everyone gets sick,"
"No, Tom. Not this kind of sick," Alex shook his head sadly. Tom was always slow on the uptake; Alex would miss him so much. "I've got leukaemia,"
"Wh-what?" Tom stuttered, completely thrown. He knew Alex wasn't joking - despite being a spy, the blond couldn't keep a straight face when he was joking.
"I'm sorry Tom,"
"...How long?" Alex knew exactly what Tom was asking. How long did he have left to live.
"About six months,"
"Oh,"
"Don't worry, Tommy," Alex used the nickname Tom had gone by in primary school. He joked, "I'll make it to graduation, I promise!"
------------------4-----------------
"Oi, Wolf! Your lot are wanted in the Sergeant's office,"
"Cheers, Lemur. We'll go now," Wolf and his team mates, Eagle, Snake and Fox, made their way to their destination.
"Ah, K-Unit. There you are," The Sergeant was a large Welsh man, an ex-rugby player, and he was the best sergeant that had ever graced the muddy grounds of Brecon Beacons.
"You asked for us, Serge?" Fox spoke up politely; he'd quit his spying job with MI6, and rejoined his old SAS team, who were more than happy to have him back.
"Not me. Him," And the Sergeant gestured to where a weary looking teenager was sitting, wearing a pair of well-worn jeans and a burgundy hoodie.
"Cub?" "Alex!" Both Eagle and Fox cried in unison
"Hey," Alex smiled tiredly. "Just thought you guys should know something," Alex turned his too-old eyes on the Sergeant, who gave the teen a sympathetic smile and left.
"So what's up?" Snake asked after the door had closed.
"Well. Because I'm technically still counted as a member of K-Unit, you would have been told this soon anyway. But bad news is always best straight from the source,"
"Get to the point, kid," Wolf growled. Alex glanced at him, before his eyes returned to his lap, where they'd been examining his hands.
"I have cancer. And I'm going to die in about half a year, tops." Alex stunned the soldiers into silence.
"Damn, Cub. I'm sorry," Eagle was the first to break the awkward silence in the room. The others followed with their own condolences soon after.
"It's okay. I've come to terms with it,"
"Fair enough. But Alex, I want you to promise me something. Don't go near MI6 again. Please, for us," Fox caught and held Alex's eyes, allowing no escape from his piercing gaze.
"Alright, Fox. I promise,"
------------------5-----------------
Alex strode purposefully to the lift. He knew if he looked like he didn't belong, the security would be all over him. He was lucky he'd made it as far as he had.
Alex rode the lift to the sixteenth floor. He barged his way into Mr Blunt's office. It appeared he was expected, as Blunt, Mrs Jones and Smithers were all present.
"I can't work for you anymore,"
"We know," Mr Blunt's dull voice filled the room after his declaration.
"Good. I'm calling in all the favours you owe me. Of which there are eight,"
"Very well, what can we do for you?" Mrs Jones replied, before Blunt could get a word in edgeways. He sent a scathing glance to her, which she ignored.
Alex listed off the eight things he wanted MI6 to do for him. Each was agreed to, surprisingly.
"Is that all?" Blunt asked after there had been quiet for a few moments.
"Yes,"
"Then you can go," Alex turned to leave, but Smithers' voice stopped him.
"Alex, take care of yourself, won't you? Try not to worry us too much, old bean," The fat man smiled sadly, hands clasped over his rotund stomach.
"I will. Promise," Alex smiled at the one person who had cared about him in the whole of MI6. Then he turned and left.
------------------1-----------------
Alex's six months were nearly up. It was July, only two weeks after he'd finished his GCSEs and received his results early. As and Bs in every subject. Not bad for someone who'd had almost a full year off, which was the previous.
Alex was stretched out on his sofa, watching television. His eyes kept drooping. He knew the time was close.
A soft breeze wafted in through the open patio doors. Alex felt the wind’s hand ruffle his hair, much like Uncle Ian used to do. Alex also heard an imagined whisper.
"Come, Alex," The teen in question felt a smile grace his lips as he closed his eyes one final time.
"I'll see you soon, Ian. I promise..." Alex's voice trailed off as he spoke. One last breath, and he was gone.