A/N: For those of you who requested to see Wolf write to Alex. Not only do you get the actual letter, you get to see Wolf writing, too! Two-shot now. :-)

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Wolf sighed as he put his pen to the paper. He hated writing letters, but he had learned early on that Cub sometimes preferred writing to talking. He checked his watch. Cub wasn't due back from school for another few hours, so he had some time to write. With any luck, the teenager would actually go to his football practice today, and Wolf could have more time to write.

Dear Cub, he started.

He scratched out the "dear" and just wrote "Cub." He and Cub were never much for formalities. Actually, Cub laughed at most of them. His social worker had once told him that she felt like his attitude towards people scared off potential foster parents.

It didn't faze Wolf. But then again, he had been the leader of an SAS team, and hell, he'd dealt with Eagle.

You couldn't get more annoying than Eagle. Cub's bickering – except for when he was on one of his downward depression styles, which Snake usually helped with – was nothing compared to that teenager – who happened to be an adult.

Wolf exhaled as he put the pen to paper.

Cub, you haven't always been the easiest teenager to raise. You've certainly had your challenges, your trials, and your tribulations. But you have had your strengths also.

Your social worker – not this woman, the guy you hated before her, Michael – once got really angry at me because I wasn't daunted by your attitude. Then Eagle showed up and started dancing around the house. Do you remember the tutu you and Snake got him as a joke for Christmas, Cub? He was wearing *that* tutu.

Your social worker never wondered about why you didn't phase me after that. He just sort of gave me a look and said, "This is his roommate?" I wish you had been there to see the look on his face, Cub.

Where exactly was Wolf going with this? He smiled at the tutu memory, though. He had requested a new social worker for Alex after that. He did not like Michael's demeanor, and he knew Alex thought that the man reminded him entirely too much of some of the less-than-charming men Jack had sold herself too.

I'm sorry you got such a crappy deal in life. You don't want my pity; I know. You have earned my respect. When you first arrived at Bearn Beacons (or as you called it then, hell,) I thought you were some rich kid with a problem. You know my fifteen-year-old brother had died only months before that in a car accident. I'm not excusing my behavior, Cub, but I'm explaining to you why I was the way I was.

Another pause of his pen. Wolf headed to the kitchen, got his Red Bull, and then he entered the other room again.

The pen was back on the paper.

Cub, I'm not sorry to raise you. I thank you for the letter. I know you wrote it with the best intent. If you ever want me to be your father, Cub

Wolf stopped there for a second. He had been contemplating the idea of adopting Cub for awhile. Jack could no longer care for him; she had been deported to America on charges of prostitution and child neglect, amongst other charges. Mike, Jack's step-husband, still gave Cub nightmares that let Wolf hear him in the other room. There was no way Wolf would let him have custody of Cub.

He erased the last line of the letter and tried again.

Cub, if you want an adoptive parent, an adoptive father, I'm here for you. My time in the SAS is done, and I was thinking about adopting at one point. You're a good kid, Cub, and I think it's time something good happens to you.

Besides, I sure as hell

Wolf scratched out "hell." Snake was trying to encourage him not to swear around Cub. Snake was worse than Wolf, so he had no room to be talking, but Wolf didn't want to leave the "evidence" behind.

Besides, I don't want to loose you again; I'm sort-of enjoying being a Responsible Person. The verbal sparing with your principle was indeed fun – but please try not to take out another football player. And I know Eagle would simply go insane if you decided to randomly move out.

Cub, the invitation for adoption is open. When you find this letter, if you want me to become your legal, adopted father – just come to me and say it's time to talk.

Wolf (for now, your legal guardian, due to state laws)

Wolf signed the letter and put on top of Cub's pillow. He drained his drink and started making supper. It appeared that Alex had decided to go to football that night, because he came back later than if he'd just gone to school.

"Hey, Cub. There's a letter on your bed for you," he responded, letting him know that he'd gotten the letter. "I'm making dinner. It'll be ready in fifteen."

"Cool," Alex responded. He dropped his backpack on the floor and made his way towards his room.

Wolf chuckled and picked up Alex's backpack, placing it on Alex's recliner. Well, the recliner that was Alex and Eagle's; they always fought for it when they came over. It was funny to see. Wolf said that Alex could put his bookbag there, and not on the floor, but Alex chose to set his book bag on the floor every time.

It was a good thing that Wolf knew that Alex was just doing it to annoy him. He'd learned that early on in Alex's stay, Alex lived to test limits. Wolf refrained from losing his patience with him. He'd talked to Alex's new social worker, who had said that because Michael had new limits for Alex, Alex had to frequently find out what those limits were, the hard way.

Alex coughed as he came out of his room. He held the letter from Wolf firmly in his hand. His eyes were bloodshot, and Wolf was surprised. He'd never seen Alex cry. He'd seen Alex terrified, he'd seen Alex scream, but he'd never, never seen Alex cry.

"Alex?"

The kid set the letter down on the table. He swallowed hard and Wolf could see his Adam's apple. "I think…" Alex looked like spitting the words out would kill him. "I think it's time to talk."