Yuuri Katsuki was a good student. A brilliant student. He did wonderfully in his classes - top marks in the classrooms and above average in his practical training through sheer stamina and resilience mostly. He was good.

But the field was nothing like the classroom.

Yuuri wracked his brain desperately like his life depended on it - only this time it did; three seven foot titans stared down at him backed up against the tree with blood thirsty eyes.

Think, dammit, he willed desperately, as his heart thudded uncontrollably in his chest at his impending death. A bead of sweat ran down the side of his forehead. He must have learned something to help him escape, done some kind of drill…

It was hopeless though, even if he had. His mind was too frantic, too scattered to form any kind of focussed thought in that moment, let alone revisit each lesson in his three year training for something useful to save his skin. Breaths came in short, sharp bursts, less and less oxygen reaching his dwindling brain cells by the second. He was panicking, and it was going to be the end of him.

He never would have been there if he'd just remembered to double check the fuel gage on his ODM gear before they'd set out though. One mistake, and now he was stuck in the middle of the forest while his comrades battled around him, stranded on the ground with an empty tank. He knew better than that. He really did. But it was his first mission outside the walls and he'd been nervous, hands fumbling as he'd fixed his gear, trying to remember everything before the gates had lifted and his brain had short circuited. It was a rookie mistake, one that had left him practically helpless.

"Yuuri!"

He heard Phichit's voice but it was too far away. It would never reach him before the Titan's fingers lunged forward.

His hands switched to the scabbard of his blade but he knew it wouldn't do him any good now. Cold sweat gathered at the base of his neck, watching his impending doom loom in on him. His heart was in his mouth. He was going to die …

Titan bodies crashed against the tree trunk. Yuuri didn't hesitate, throwing himself forward. He moved fast, diving under their legs and leaping over their reaching fingers, but it was only delaying the inevitable unless he could get in the air. His blade slashed and blood spurted, teeth gritted in determination. It was better than crying - not that he had much conscious choice about it in that moment. Adrenaline drove him, instinct pulling at his gut.

Something slammed into his side, sweeping him off the ground and knocking the breath out of him.

And his blade.

It wasn't Titan fingers curled around his middle though, he quickly realised. It was a human arm; strong and lean, with trembling fingers in fingerless leather gloves clinging to him as they soared through the air.

Behind him, Yuuri heard the crash of breaking bark from where he'd been just seconds before.

The flash of green and silver caught his eye and his fingers clung to the scout cloak whirling around him, hauling himself up. He didn't want to fall. Not now.

Suddenly something solid skidded under his feet but he slammed into the tree trunk before he had enough bearings to slow himself. He cried out when his shoulder made contact. He dropped to his knees at the sickening crunch of bone grinding against bone, but there was no snap. No break. Then he would really have been in trouble. He dropped to his knees, breathless. Wide eyes stared down at the Titan laden ground beneath him, unable to believe he was still alive to see it.

The branch they stood on was just out of reach of the Titans grasp, but he knew they wouldn't be safe for long. The monsters would figure it out soon enough. Then they'd be running for their lives again.

His fingers curled against the bark. It was cowardly. Running. But how many people had already died that day? A lot, the world below a lot thinner of humans than when they had arrived and wet with blood. The rest of them would have to turn back soon, Yuuri thought. Before the whole squad got wiped out. Before he got killed too.

But that wasn't his call to make. He pushed himself up to his feet, fists curled at his side. His rescuer stood at the tip of the branch.

Yuuri's breath caught. Short, wavy silver hair blew in the breeze with his cloak, stood at the edge of the branch with his blade drawn. His eyes stared down at the chaos beneath them, and even though Yuuri couldn't see them, he could sense they were focused with intent. He knew they were bright blue, like a wildfire of diamond. The fingers of his spare hand fumbled at the pouch at his belt without looking, tossing Yuuri a small canister.

Fuel.

He caught it effortlessly and made quick work restoring his OBM gear, breathing a sigh of relief as it whirred subtly back to life. Out there, it really was the difference between life and death.

"There." His saviour's sharp voice barked, though somehow still as smooth and sweet as honey. He glanced over his shoulder.

Yuuri had been right about his eyes.

Alert pools of crisp swirling aquamarine pinned him in place, as if they could see right through him, framed with long dark eyelashes. There was the tiniest of scars between his eye and ear, short and thin just above his right cheek, the old wound healed over just a shade paler than the rest of the his otherwise perfect, porcelain skin. His short grey hair moved with the breeze at the back of his head, bangs at the front rolling over his left eye.

Yuuri recognised him in a heartbeat - Captain Victor Nikiforov. The reason he'd joined the scouts in the first place. Yuuri had dreamed of the day he would finally get to meet him, practicing what he would say down to the very last word.

The blaze in Victor's eyes wasn't in the mood for talking though.

He was everything Yuuri thought he would be: rage and hellfire, wrapped in the body of a man than nearly glowed with beauty. The blade in his hand dripped with Titan blood and the look in his eyes was almost feral, blown with the primal desire to kill until he was the last thing standing.

Yuuri felt a ripple of fear jolt through him pressing himself firmer against the tree trunk before he realised what he was doing.

Those blazing eyes scorched a trail over him, measuring him up and down. Victor lingered ever so slightly longer on his face than Yuuri expected. It wasn't something he'd dwell on, Yuuri was sure - there was no way Victor Nikiforov would remember him, after all. Yuuri was small, and plain, and forgettable. Sure enough, Victor's gaze rolled away half a second later, back to the madness unfurling below.

He had vanished before YuurI had finished his next blink, crouching low and leaping back into the sea of blood and violence below.

By some miracle, Yuuri made it back alive.

His spoon dug grimly into his food in the cafeteria cabin, pushing the potatoes round the bowl but not actually eating anything. He didn't feel hungry - the scouts had faced losses of fifty per cent on that last excursion.

So many people had died, friends, brothers and comrades. Those who came back were just grateful to still be breathing, knowing the chances of them doing so again after their next mission were significantly reduced now. Everything was going wrong. So many lives lost in pursuit of claiming back their world, something that seemed more like just a child's fantasy than a real-world goal with every passing day.

It was all his fault, he thought, knuckles white with the grip he held around his spoon. If only he'd been stronger - better! - perhaps he would have been able to kill more, save more, make a difference….

Instead he'd been rescued by the most decorated Captain alive and had killed a grand total of zero Titans.

"I thought you were a gonner back there." Phichit said from across the table. He'd made it back too.

Yuuko had survived as well, but she hadn't been in the mood for eating, going straight to her bunk. Yuuri half wished he'd had the same idea.

His mind flashed back to that moment in the forest where he'd nearly lost his life before his idol had saved him. Phichit would never have reached him in time, he understood now. Without Victor, he would have been killed for sure.

He must think I'm a total idiot, Yuuri thought bitterly.

He couldn't make the same mistakes again. He'd been careless with his fuel, hadn't been able to slay any Titans with his squad mates and it had cost the team lives.

Yuuri wondered what would have happened to Victor. He was so fast, what Titan could have caught him? Maybe he'd run out of fuel from the speed. Or perhaps he'd just been overwhelmed. Maybe he'd made a mistake. So many things could have happened, and one wrong move was all the opportunity the Titans needed to snatch you out of the air. Then you were dead.

His spirits sunk lower just thinking about it. "Yeah, me too." He mumbled unenthusiastically.

There was no way Victor Nikiforov was dead.

Word would have spread if he was and more importantly, Yuuri had seen his blood stained silver hair catch the light of the sun as he'd led the survivors back to the wall. Victor was alive. Probably wishing for a better team than the likes of Yuuri Katsuki.

"Have you checked the list?"

The list of the dead. Yuuri could feel it burning into his back from the wall across the room.

Yuuri's mouth twisted in a grimace. "No."

A part of him didn't want to know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know how many of his childhood friends were lost, how many cadets he'd trained with had met their sticky end. Phichit was here. Yuuko was here. He couldn't ask for much more than that.

He'd watched people get snatched out of the sky right in front of him, heard the dying screams of those he'd laughed with over the breakfast table just earlier that same morning. Minami had been one of them. That stung. The only consolation was that he hadn't suffered, crushed by accident under a fallen Titan when his OBM gear had jammed - probably before he'd even realized anything was wrong. It still didn't make it okay though. Like Yuuri had joined the scouts for Victor, he knew Minami had joined the scouts for him, following him with round, bug eyes that Yuuri couldn't bear to think about now.

He pushed away his bowl, knocking it against Phichit's. "I'm done." He said, standing up from the bench. His eyes were low. "You have it."

Yuuko had been right - food wasn't what he needed right now. In fact, Yuuri wasn't sure what it was that he needed. He just couldn't stop thinking about Minami, feeling the young cadet's name burn from the list of the dead across the room like it was screaming at Yuuri. It was his fault he had been out there. It was his fault he was dead.

Nobody stopped him as he trudged to the door.

Eyes stared ahead blankly as his legs carried him… where? Not to his bunk. He crossed the dark yard, moonlight shining brightly in the starry sky above, knowing he should take the time to stop, look, and savour it - be grateful to be alive - but he couldn't think. Not about that.

It should have been him.

That was all he could think about. It should have been him - not Minami.

Numb fingers unclipped his harness from across his chest and it hit the floor with a click. A click? Yuuri blinked, and realised he wasn't outside anymore.

A door shut loudly behind him and Yuuri jumped, a strangled yelp tearing through his throat. It took a few seconds for his eyes to adjust. When they did, they drank in bench lined walls, hooks on the walls and tiled floors… showers. He was in the showers. A frown furrowed his brow; why here? They'd all showered when they'd first gotten back from the mission, washing away the grime and blood like it would somehow dull the pain.

The water had run red and Yuuri had stared at the blood swirling down the drain like it was taking his sanity with it, like he was staring into Hell itself. He hadn't felt clean. He'd just felt like he was drowning in more ways than one.

So why was he back? More drowning? More suffering? Yuuri wasn't sure, but it didn't stop him shrugging his jacket off his shoulders and letting it slump on the bench, dragging himself forward to the slightly ajar door to the shower cubicles. Everything was quiet, empty. Nobody else was drowning in guilt the same way he was.

He didn't bother stripping any more of his clothes as he wandered half way through the showers, nipping into a random cubicle to his right. His footsteps were silent, even with his boots still on.

It took three attempts to twist the shower knob enough to start the water. Yuuri's fingers couldn't stop fumbling, his eyes blurred with tears and his glasses fogged with the lingering humidity in the shower rooms. He was a mess. When the water finally splattered down over his face - matting his wet hair over his forehead and dotting the lens of his glasses - Yuuri felt something inside him break.

His first sob seemed to echo around the showers. It bounced off the tiles and ran his knees weak at the sound, bracing his forearm against the wall and leaning into the warm torrent of water. His lip quivered. His eyes scrunched. His cheeks ached. More cries ached behind his rib cage but this time no sound came out, trapped with the screaming inside his head. Was that his screaming or Minami's? Or any of the other soldiers? Yuuri's hand slapped at the shower dial until the water ran louder, touching his forehead against the wet sleeve of his shirt against the wall.

The material clung to his skin, shirt see through now it was wet. He knew he looked just as vulnerable on the outside as he felt on the inside, stripped bare with his emotions, ready to be taken apart. His body trembled, muscles quivering in a way he didn't understand. He'd never felt like this before.

His tears mingled with the shower water until he couldn't tell them apart. Maybe that was why he'd gone there…

Clatter.

Yuuri's eyes snapped open.

He shut the shower off quickly and froze, sobs stilling and ears pricking for sound. What was that noise? The showers were supposed to be empty.

He hadn't bothered to check for company when he'd come in but there hadn't been any clothes at the benches and no water had been running, so he had just assumed… wrong. He'd assumed wrong. A lump caught in Yuuri's throat as he slowly turned in his cubicle, wincing when his socks squelched slightly in his boots. Fuck.

There was still no sound. No water running. No voices. No footsteps. Everything was silent. But Yuuri was sure he had heard something - not just the distant screams of the dying in his head - something real. Hard. Plastic? Something that clattered sharply when it hit the tiles. Metal? Who would bring something metal to the showers? Yuuri guessed he wasn't exactly one to talk as he stood there drenched in nearly his full military gear, water dripping in front of his face from the tips of his sodden hair.

The blood pounded in his ears as he stepped out of his cubicle with slow, measured steps like a hunter stalking his prey. There was someone there. He could feel it. Something primal sparked in his system and he felt the hairs on his arms raise in alarm. He wasn't alone.

He stared down the length of the showers, gaze scouring the cubicles either side of him. Each one had a loose curtain covering that had been tucked to the side once the showers had been emptied and they were still in place. Whoever was there hadn't cared about privacy. By rights, they shouldn't need to - nobody else was supposed to be there. It was just bad luck, bad timing.

And Yuuri wasn't in the mood to share.

Each step betrayed him, water squelching in his boots and alerting his comrade to his ever nearing presence. Yuuri wasn't sure what he'd do when he'd find them. Scream? Shout? Cry?

His hackles were raised even if his heart still felt shattered. He wanted to be alone, didn't want anybody else to see him like this. Anybody would think he was crazy. Maybe he was crazy. Could you lose your mind after just one mission beyond the walls? Everybody else seemed to hold it together so well. Victor Nikiforov hadn't even blinked when he'd swept in and saved Yuuri earlier; always perfect, always in control no matter how many missions he led. Yuuri needed to be more like him. As hard as steel. Strong and untouchable.

And naked.

Yuuri blinked back to the shower room and his lips parted in shock. Victor was there. In the showers. Victor was there.

He was on the left side, stood in the middle of the dry cubicle with his clothes and boots scattered around him, but no water. He hadn't turned on the shower yet, Yuuri realised. The more he looked at the Captain, the more he wondered whether Victor even could turn on the shower. His beautiful blue eyes glittered wide and stunned, staring dead ahead but not seeing anything. There was none of the merciless wrath from earlier, none of the control. He looked like his heart had stopped.

Yuuri only knew because his literally had, watching the same horror he felt morph on Victor's face in front of him as he blinked and saw Yuuri at last. What was that expression? Pain? Regret? Had he hurt himself in the field? Or was he just guilty that he'd saved someone like Yuuri instead of those countless other soldiers who had deserved to come home more than he had? Like Minami…

He was naked. His silver bangs dropped down his cheek, wavy and crusted with dried blood. Sweat glistened over the toned planes of his chest, the strong muscles of his shoulders, and red stained the corner of his mouth where his lip had split. It was fresh.

Yuuri's eyes darted down before he could help it and fire instantly fled across his cheeks, gaze snapping to the ceiling just a second too late.

Not before he'd seen everything.

He heard Victor gulp more than he saw it, but his traitorous vision caught the bob of the captain's Adam's apple out of the corner of his eye. Yuuri's mouth ran dry. Oh god.

He should go. He should leave and run around the cabins for a few hours - leave Victor alone for his shower - but his body wouldn't move frozen in place. Victor seemed the same. It was a stalemate, one that was crushing Yuuri more and more with every second. Tears pricked at his eyes and he chewed the inside of his cheek to keep them at bay. I'm sorry, he wanted to say. He should have done more for the Captain. If Yuuri had just remembered his fuel, he wouldn't have needed saving and Victor could have saved someone else. Could have saved Minami, maybe.

Victor's mouth hung open too, but just like Yuuri, no words came out. What was there to say? Everything was a mess. One huge mess. Yuuri's captain hated him and would probably put him on the front line of the next mission just to get rid of him quickly and accidentally, and-

Cold lips smashed against Yuuri's before he could finish his thought.

He yelped into Victor's mouth.

Hands grabbed him roughly. One was firm around his bicep and yank Yuuri against Victor's soft naked body, fingers losing themselves in the thick tangles of his wet hair. Victor kissed like he fought; holding nothing back, fierce and driving, tongue dominating Yuuri's like he needed him more than he needed air to breathe. His eyes were fluttered shut, surrendering everything he had to Yuuri, to wrapping his arms tight around him…

It took a minute for Yuuri's brain to catch up. When it did, he sighed shakily into Victor's mouth, hand moving to the back of Victor's shoulder. To pull him off? To pull him close? Yuuri wasn't sure.

Victor was beautiful.

Eyelashes fanned out over his blood tainted cheeks, the crimson a stark comparison against the marble paleness of his skin. The tension in his brow had smoothed away. Muscles jumped under the smooth skin of his back. His lips pressed against Yuuri's with an intensity that took Yuuri's breath away and his fingers cradled Yuuri's head close like there was nothing he needed more than the length of Yuuri's body pressed against his.

Yuuri could feel every firm ridge of Victor's solid abs through the thin material of his damp shirt, practically able to feel the thump of the captain's racing heartbeat through his chest. Or was that his own?

He didn't understand what was happening. Well, what was happening was obvious, but how and why… Captain Victor Nikiforov was kissing him.

And worse, Yuuri could feel his body responding.

Of course, it would be. Yuuri had dreamt of Victor Nikiforov for the last seven years and knew that he admired the captain way beyond what a polite cadet should. He was Victor Nikiforov! He was beautiful, he was deadly, and he had looked like a god when he'd saved Yuuri all those years ago, blood splattered in his hair and sunshine bouncing off him while he stood on the ruined remains of Yuuri's family home, bangs fluttering in the breeze. Yuuri would never forget it, and he would never forget this. Whatever this way. However impossible it had to be.

When Yuuri finally closed his mouth and built up the courage to push his lips back against the Captain's, he swore he heard Victor whine. The fingers in his hair twitched.

"I thought I'd lost you," sighed against Yuuri's mouth, softer than he'd ever heard the Captain.

This wasn't the man that slayed, and stayed as composed as polished marble - the man clinging to him was a man barely holding it together, needing something solid to hold on to. Or someone. Victor Nikiforov was crumbling in front of him.

It only made Yuuri fall in love with him even more.

He didn't understand Victor's words but it wasn't a surprise. His brain wasn't working properly. All he could process was the melodic sound of Victor's voice, the firmness of his body and the soft tresses of his hair as Yuuri reached up to lose his fingers in it like he'd always dreamed. He hadn't started this, but he was damned sure he wasn't going to waste it. He would take what he could and give everything he had to this man until Victor pushed him away.

Victor didn't push though - he pulled. Hands fisted in the wet material of Yuuri's shirt and dragged him across the shower, turning them until Yuuri's back hit the wall with a slap. Seconds later, the shirt was nothing but torn shreds in Victor's fingers.

Yuuri groaned against Victor's mouth as cool palms pressed against his skin - still warm from the shower water - and roamed up and around his neck and down around his waist. It was better than he'd imagined.

Mere inches of space had ghosted between them while Victor explored Yuuri's torso, but Yuuri couldn't bear the distance. It felt like a million miles. That and the softening kisses, Victor's lips slowing leisurely against his instead of his hungry attack from moments ago… was Victor changing his mind? Yuuri's heart skipped a beat as he realised just how much he didn't want this to end.

His hand wound around Victor, finding the small of his back. He pulled them back flush roughly, trapping Victor's hands between them against his chest.

If only he'd showed this much fight out in the field earlier…

"I'm sorry." he found himself mumbling - almost whimpering. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean-"

"It's okay."

Gentle hands closed either side of his face and Victor's forehead rested against his as their lips parted for a moment. The cerulean eyes glowing at him now weren't the same ice chipped orbs that had glowered at him earlier. They were soft and tender, loving and -

Yuuri didn't dare let himself finish. It was too much for him. Tears welled in his eyes and he glanced down, unable to hold Victor's gaze. A ragged gasp tore through him, feeling his heart crumble all over again. Soft fingertips ran down the side of his face, but they weren't comforting - they just made him fall apart faster.

The first tears blinked to freedom down his cheeks as Yuuri felt strong arms close around his shoulders, fingers weaving gently through his hair. They guided him to the crook where Victor's neck met his shoulder. Soft cooing mumbled in his ear and Yuuri lost himself to it, crying messily into his hero's bare shoulder and wrapping his arms around Victor's waist to hold him close. He needed it. He wasn't sure what it was, but he needed it. Victor's body swayed ever so softly from side to side and his fingers combed delicately through Yuuri's hair, his calming voice jolting ever so slightly with his own shaky breaths.

He should be dead. Maybe he had died, and this was all some form of paradise that he was experiencing. It would make more sense that way at least, way more sense!

Yuuri wasn't sure how long he cried for but he remembered what it was that jolted him out of it; a dull ache in his groin, growing more and more every passing minute until it was almost painful. He was still hard? Even crying on Victor's shoulder he was still hard?!

Yuuri buried his face into Victor's soft skin even more, feeling his face burn with more than just the flush from crying. His hips rolled forward instinctively, and Yuuri gasped when they made contact with Victor's body. His very hard body.

Then it was Victor's turn to drop his head down to Yuuri's shoulder, back muscles trembling slightly under Yuuri's touch.

"Yuuri."

It was a whisper. A prayer. The most beautiful and erotic thing that Yuuri could have ever dreamt of, firing his blood to life with just that one breathed word. His hands settled on Victor's hips instinctively, thumbs grazing over the v-line of muscle that joined Victor's hips to his thighs. His breath caught at his own bravery; what was he doing?

Victor didn't seem to mind though, rolling into Yuuri's touch and turning his face into Yuuri's neck. Lips attached themselves to his throat, kissing tenderly but firmly. Yuuri pressed open mouthed kisses to the tip of Victor's shoulder.

His breath hitched when he felt his trousers slide over his hips, clinging ever so slightly in their dampness. Victor's smooth hands worked them free though, palming the soft flesh of Yuuri's behind.

When their erections touched, it felt like a livewire.

Yuuri's mouth fell open at the sensation and his hand moved to Victor's hips, holding him there while he ground against him. It was insane. Victor sighed hotly against his skin before his chin angled a little more to the side, snagging Yuuri's mouth once again with his own. It tasted saltier this time; was Yuuri still crying?

Victor's hips were moving too, both seeking out the pleasure that was slowly firing through their bloodstream, melting their bodies together in a way that was almost too good. Yuuri wanted to stay like that forever, sucking on Victor's tongue and grinding against his dick until the world collapsed.

Until Victor curled his hand around them.

Yuuri wasn't sure who groaned first, but they both did as Victor's fingers closed around their cocks, thumb swirling over their tips and spreading the moisture that leaked between them.

Fingers dug hard into Victor's biceps hard enough to bruise. Gasping breaths caught between their locked lips. Hips thrusted up into Victor's fist and the friction was delicious, pulsing through Yuuri like wildfire. He needed more. More of Victor. More friction. More everything.

His knees went weak when Victor's hand stroked between them and he fell back against the tiled wall of the bathroom, Victor's spare hand bracing on the wall beside Yuuri's head. The Captain's mouth hungrily attached to the side of his neck. Yuuri couldn't help but cry out as Victor sucked in perfect timing with the thrust of his hand, blood vessels bursting under Victor's lips. Yuuri felt like his heart was going to burst right out of his chest.

He surrendered to the passion, surrendered to the mind numbing pleasure that was quickly overwhelming him. Perhaps it was the adrenalin. Perhaps he was just sick. Either way he was crying, and kissing, and was impossibly close, heat coiling in his gut.

When Victor's hand picked up, Yuuri knew he had to be close too. His gasps were hot against Yuuri's mouth, fingers curling against the wall, and the heat between them in the humid air misted Yuuri's glasses. He didn't care - all he cared about was the pressure tightening in his groin, building higher and higher with every pump of Victor's firm fist. It wouldn't be long, he thought, thrusting wildly into Victor's hand. He was chasing down the pleasure, so close to seeing stars.

Victor came first.

The Captain's hand dropped from the wall to Yuuri's shoulder and clung on for dear life as his orgasm ripped through him, mouthing silently against Yuuri's shoulder.

Yuuri wasn't far behind. The wetness spilling between them and the absolutely wanton, vulnerable expression on Victor's beautiful face tipped him over the edge and Yuuri felt his mind go blank. The back of his skull knocked against the bathroom tiles behind him, but he barely registered the pain. All he felt was relief. It washed over him like a blessing as he exploded in Victor's grip with a soft cry, knees running weak and shuddering in Victor's arms.

His hips rolled up into Victor's grip through the aftershocks of his orgasm, suddenly gasping for air as he realised he'd stopped breathing. Wide brown eyes stared up at the ceiling. Slowly, his mind fluttered back to his body. Bit by bit, his rampant heartbeat started to steady in his rib cage.

And Yuuri started to become more and more aware of the body pressed against his, the lips nuzzling sweet kisses into the side of his neck. The gravity of what had just happened started to sink in.

He'd just had sex with Victor Nikiforov.

In the showers.

Despite himself, Yuuri couldn't help his fingers digging into the soft flesh of Victor's shoulders though, clinging to the Captain while he worshipped Yuuri's neck and collarbones like a treasured prize. He couldn't help it. His dreams had come true, and with them a very real fear as he realised what he'd just done. He swore in his head, blood running cold despite the warm body pressed skin to skin against his - he would get sent to the front line for sure after this. After all, dead men didn't talk.

A/N

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