I'm Italian, I'm sorry for possible mistakes. I hope you enjoy your reading :3

Trenton Campaign.
Five years after the blackout.

«Wait for me here, I'll be back in ten minutes»
Even without any clock, Miles knew that far more than ten minutes passed since Bass walked away to get some munitions, according to what he had said.
He didn't want to admit it, not even with himself, but Bass' absence anguished him – maybe more than it should.
Every time he moved without him, he waited anxiously his return to sigh with relief, although he didn't want Bass to notice and made his best to hide it.
Now, with those damned, armed to the teeth rebels, every gunshot was a blow to his heart. Every time, he turned instinctively to check if Bass, by his side, was okay.
Now, not seeing him, he felt exposed, as if a part of himself was missing.
He got up, taking his gun, and went to look for him, without caring that it might cost his life.

Bass was more important.

"If he got into trouble, I swear that- "

«Miles...»
He turned, alarmed, his pistol aimed, to meet Bass' scared gaze.
«Wha- ...holy shit» it only took a second to Miles to notice the blood between his fingers, pressed against his hip.
Instantaneously he was by his side and Bass clung on him, feeling his legs weaken.

Once in shelter, in a abandoned tumble-down building, Miles grabbed his hand, shifting it to see the wound.
Bass lowered his gaze with him.
Despite of having been in the Marines first and then in the Militia and having watched men being wounded and die, he had always had a lucky escape and only in that moment he realized how much he was afraid to come under the same fate.
«...I'm screwed, right?» his voice was a whisper, his eyes fixed on his bloodstained hand, still held in Miles' grip.
«Don't even think about it. ...Sons of a bitch» Miles hissed «I shouldn't have let you go alone» he let it slip. «I must do something to take this fucking bullet out» he went on, although he knew it wasn't the right place and the right time to do such an operation.
The thought of losing him was stronger than anything else.
He was about to get up, but Bass was quicker, holding him by his wrist.
«You don't want to get shot too, do you?» he giggled weakly.
«Stay with me. Please» his laugh faded swiftly, replaced by a begging look, revealing an absolute fear of remaining alone.
«Okay, okay... I'm not going anywhere» Miles knelt beside him, going back to hold his hand, with which Bass was trying to stop the bleeding. In this way, Miles hoped to instill some confidence in him – or maybe he tried to instill it in himself.

"I'm here, Bass. Hold on. Don't you dare leaving me now"

«You know, there's a thing I never told you, Miles» Bass started, catching his mate's attention with those intense blue eyes «I want you to know, if I ...»
Miles gripped his shoulder, looking straight into his eyes «Don't say it. May I be cursed for eternity, if you kick the bucket today. You're not gonna die, Bass» he said, in a determined voice.
«I don't care, if not today, I could die tomorrow and I don't want to go without you knowing it» Bass replied, hanging on Miles' jacket, as if it was a sort of a support «...you have always been more than a friend... and, I don't know when it started, but you become more than a brother to me, too...» he hesitated for an instant, seeing the other's expression becoming more confused, but he though that if a right moment for certain confession existed, it would have been that one, without any doubt.

«I... I love you, Miles»

«Bass...» he was less surprised than he expected.
Maybe Bass only found the courage to put into words what they, even without realizing, always knew.
Miles let his hand slip from Bass' shoulder to his neck, leaning his forehead against his mate's.
For once, he couldn't answer back, even though his thought became crystal clear only in that moment, when he had a damned fear to lose his companion.

"I love you too"

He hoped that annihilating the distance between their lips, dangerously close, would be enough as an answer.
He could feel how Bass yearned for that contact from the way he clung desperately to him, from how he didn't let him go even when he had to breathe again and pain showed on his face.
That bullet took him abruptly back to the real word, where there was space for nothing but shots, explosions, blood and their men out there, in a battle whose destiny was still unknown.
Miles sighed, turning away. There was no time to think about the consequences of that kiss and if something would have changed between them – he was only certain of how, somewhere in his unconscious, he had wanted it.
«Let me check if it's all clear and I'll take you out of here» he said, picking up his gun «I will be your damned shadow, Bass, I won't let something like that happen again» he went on, going back to look in his eyes.
«It's a promise».
He got up, turning his back to him, sighing once again.

«I hope I can keep it».