A/N: As you all know, I write a lot from a third-person yet mainly Alex POV. For once I'm writing a third person yet mainly Sean POV. Just so you know, trigger warning: mentions of suicide.

DISCLAIMER: No ownership in any shape or form. Not even in the slightest.

When Sean was six, he met a boy named Alexander, whom everyone called Xand.

Xand wanted to be a fireman, a police officer, Sherlock Holmes, in the Navy, in the air force, a professional BMX rider before eventually settling on becoming a SEAL, a decision made when he was twelve.

When Sean and Xand where nine, they found a tree.

Two trees, actually.

They weren't very far apart and two branches wove around each other, allowing you to climb up the branch of one tree and the keep climbing until you reached the second. The two boys spent hours there, planning their futures.

Xand wanted to spend ten years as a SEAL before returning home, marrying a pretty girl and living in a mansion.

Sean had no idea what he wanted to do with his life, apart from wanting to do something good.

When they were thirteen, Sean moved away. He was scared.

Scared that Xand would find another boy to climb trees and discuss futures and job options with.

Jill was insistent that Xand would never do that – they'd known each other for seven years and moving away was going to hurt them both.

Xand kept in touch.

He sent photographs of the tree and regular greatly exaggerated stories of the drama occurring on Hammard Road that Sean was missing. Some of the letters were so detailed, Sean could've sworn he was standing on the sidewalk beside Xand and a bunch of other kids from his class, watching as Sally McQueen, gorgeous tenth grader laid on Jerry Partridge the biggest smackering kiss any one of them had ever seen in real life.

At age fourteen, Sean received his last ever letter from Xand. It said

Hey Sean,

I decided that I'm gonna start properly training to be a SEAL. I don't want to be lazing on my ass all day so when I join, I'll be the fattest, most un-fittest guy in the group. Mom had a baby a few days ago and I have to look after him a lot. School's getting hectic too.

Did you know that Mandy Fetherheld asked me out last week?

Yep, the same Mandy Fetherheld that ran screaming in sixth grade when we dressed up as demons for Halloween and tricked her at Felix's party.

People change, I guess.

What I'm trying to say is – I dunno if I can write as regularly as I used to. Hope that's okay.

Still miss you though.

Hoping you're having a lousy time -

Alex.

He'd never signed off as Alex before, but Sean didn't really suspect anything, although he was disappointed at the turn of events.

On the eighteenth of November, when Sean was fifteen years old, he returned home as if it were any normal day. He tossed his bag onto the floor of his bedroom, kicked off his shoes, discarded his shirt on the floor and trudged out to the kitchen to find something to eat, ignoring Sandy's complaining remarks about wandering around the house half naked.

The phone rang.

Sean answered.

It was Alexander's mother.

Something about stress overload

and failing P.E.

and Mandy Fetherheld

and oh God...he...killed himself

and I thought you ought to know

and I'm so sorry Sean

and there's nothing you could have done

and his funeral's on Wednesday.

Sean's grandfather's friend owned a tattoo parlour at the back of his car yard. Sean paid him off three days before the funeral to etch a certain picture onto Sean – onto his hip, so his mother wouldn't see it.

It was a roughly drawn picture, the paper dampened with tears and blood from a fist that clenched too hard, leading to a pencil to snap and skin to be ripped.

It was a picture of two trees, the branches in the middle woven around each other, both strong, tall, bulky and alive.

Xand's parents asked Sean to speak.

He didn't know what to say.

He mumbled out things to do with 'He was ridiculous'

and 'He could never decide what he wanted to do'

and 'He was a fantastic writer'

and 'He wanted to be a fireman first'

and 'Thanks to him, I know what I want to do with my life.'

Sean became a SEAL.

For Xand.

Which was why he kept going back. Even after he almost died and Jill begged him to stay home. Even after he could caught up in Oversight and Division and desperately wanted to stay to help his mother get out alive, he knew at the back of his mind he was going to leave when things were safe again. Even when he found Alex. He loved her so much...but there was another Alex that he owed.

So when he was told that he was dead.

That he couldn't go back.

That his sisters could never know.

That his funeral was on Wednesday.

He broke.

What Owen said opened his eyes a bit.

'She'll tell you when she's ready.'

(He had his own theories about Alex's tattoo, anyway – her tattoo wasn't the thought that Owen's words triggered. It was his. It was the two trees, the tattoo he'd almost forgotten about, the best friend he'd almost forgotten about).

He'd realised that nobody, absolutely nobody knew about that tattoo.

He'd never told his family.

Or Xand's.

His SEAL team knew why he'd joined but they didn't know about the ink.

'Hey,' Alex said, grabbing his arm as he made his way to his physio appointment. 'Listen, I know you heard what I said to Owen about the tattoo and I wanted you to know – '

'It's fine,' Sean interrupted with a smile. 'I understand.'

It was a proper smile. A smile that made its way up to his eyes and it probably confused the hell out of her because 'I understand' was just what someone said when they were hurt and didn't want to talk about something.

'Sean – ' she tried but he cut her off with a quick press of his lips against hers.

'I. Un. Der. Stand,' he said with purposeful slowness. 'I gotta go. I'll talk to you later, kay?'

And then he was gone.

Nikita and Michael's wedding was suddenly rolling back on track so Alex was tied up as the maid of honour, insisting on going through magazines for a dress and a theme and colour mixtures etc. etc.

It was only about a week later that they talked again properly.

He was pulling on a shirt from the training gym's adjoining shower when she walked in, eyes catching the etchings of a tattoo, half hidden by the waistband of his trousers.

'Hey,' she said curiously, falling into step with him before halting them both and nodding towards what had caught her gaze. 'What's that?'

'Tattoo,' Sean said with a grin in a very well-duh tone.

'I figured that,' she said, giving him a small shove. 'I mean, what is it a tattoo of?'

Sean pulled his trackies down just slightly, revealing the double trees that were permanently painted onto the skin at the base of his abdomen. Alex tore her glance away after a few moments, biting her lip as they began walking again.

'You're allowed to ask,' Sean said, moving closer so that their arms brushed with each step they took.

'Well, I never actually told you so that's probably not fair.'

'It's not about whether you told me or not. If you see someone has a tattoo, generally, you ask them what it means.'

'Okay then. What does it mean?'

Sean swallowed back the lump in his throat, finding a fixed spot in front of him to stare at. 'It doesn't mean anything...it's more...for someone. Like yours, I suppose.'

Alex's eyes softened and she put her arm over his wrist, stopping them again and pulling him over to the steps. She sat so close to him, he could feel each breath she took as she held her intrigued gaze upon him.

'I had this friend,' Sean explained, finding the courage to look her in the eye. 'He was my best friend, to be honest. Since I was six. His name was Alexander.'

Her mouth twitched upwards with the hints of a smile.

'He wanted to be a SEAL. He made the choice when we were twelve.'

'Is that why you joined?' she asked. 'You know – to go in like brothers?'

Sean hesitated. 'Sorta,' he admitted. 'I moved cities when we were thirteen. We wrote to each other for a while...until he said he was getting too busy and wasn't sure that he'd be able to keep in touch regularly. The next time I saw him was at his funeral, a year later.'

He felt Alex's body stiffen and heard her sharp intake of breath.

'How...?' she asked in a small voice.

'He killed himself.'

'...Why?'

'I don't know. His mom probably told me but I was barely paying attention. He didn't leave a note anyway.'

'And the tree?'

'When we were nine, we found these two trees. The branches were entwined so it was like they were one tree. The tattoo was the only thing I could think of to remember him by.'

'Until you decided to be a SEAL.'

'Yeah. I joined to live the life he never got to.'

He could feel the hot tears singing his eyes and he looked away, hands starting to shake. He hadn't spoken about Xand in years and now he remembered why. It hurt too much.

'Sean, look at me,' Alex said firmly, guiding his face towards hers with a gentle hand. She rested her forehead against his and his heart thundered at the feeling of her shaky breaths against his lips.

'You should've told me,' she whispered. 'I would have understand why you had to deploy, even after we were together. Hell, I would've been able to understand why never going back to the SEALS would be so hard for you!'

'It's like you said,' he said with a shrug. 'You never told me.'

'Because you know almost everything about me,' Alex reminded. 'What I've been through. Who I've lost. Most of all, you should know who I love.' She ran her thumb over the slight stubble on his cheeks. 'But I'm sorry. I guess I didn't want to remember what the tattoo meant. It...'

'...hurt,' Sean finished. 'I know.'

Alex closed the gap between them, kissing him softly. 'I didn't tell Owen everything about the tattoo, by the way,' she added, breaking away after a few seconds.

Sean raised an interested eyebrow.

'There were times...before Nikita found me...that I realised what pointlessness my life was,' she said and he heard the crack in her voice, reaching out to take her hand. 'But occasionally, I felt like one day, I'd get the chance to get out of the hell I was in. Be someone real. Do something good.'

Sean was suddenly flown back to the days when all he'd known he wanted to do with his life was something good.

His twelve year old self smiled.

'It's like Owen said...I'd always believed that butterflies were God's proof of a second chance,' Alex explained. 'My papa said that to me whenever we found a butterfly flying around the house. He said that to be reborn as a butterfly in another life would be an honour. Getting the tattoo told me that one day, I'd get that chance to be someone new, even if it was reborn in another life. Thanks to Nikita... I got that chance.'

When Sean was eight and a half, Xand had taken one look at him and said 'You'd be a good prince.'

'What?' Sean had asked, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

'Seriously. Like, marry a princess. You'd be a good Prince Charming.'

'Princes and princesses don't exist in real life, Xand.'

'Sure they do. Kings and Queens still exist, don't they?'

'Well...yeah.'

'So, princes and princesses do too!'

'I'm not a prince though.'

'Just marry a princess and you will be.'

'You're crazy.'

'At least I know what I wanna do after school!'

'You wanted to be a football player last week, and now you want to be a BMX rider!'

'Pfft. It's better than wanting to "do something good." Puh-lease. Princesses are way better.'

Sean figured that a Russian heiress was princess enough.

A/N: Totally random but...?