Well, um, hi! Here I am again. This story is getting really long, don't you think? Well, well.
The thing about boxing gloves – I seriously had no idea of the name. I thought that it had some complicated name that would probably be hard to spell, or something – but apparently not! Thanks for helping me out x)

And thank you all for the reviews! I can't describe how happy I get, every time I see that I've had so many readers and reviewers! That alone makes me so happy, sending dozens of ideas of how I can torment you with my story next, through my head.

WARNING. A LOT OF COLORFUL WORDS. But we all love Wolf anyway, now don't we? x3

Disclaimer: He's still not mine! Darn. But if I keep writing slash fictions, dirtying the characters more xD , I might just get Horowitz to sell them...

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Tom looked at the phone, just a little uncertain but tried to hide that from Alex (though he really did know that it was no use trying to hide anything from Alex, because that damn spy was way too attentive for his own good).

Deciding that it didn't help anyone – and certainly not said spy mentioned above – he quickly pressed the call button, ringing the third number on the speed dial. Eric-Demon, whom apparently was Alex's temporary guardian.

Talking about Alex; said boy was sitting inhumanly still on the stair, his eyes closed for the time being. He was pretty pale and was frowning slightly – Tom assumed the other teen was trying to meditate or do something to get his mind off the pain. Tom frowned, too, wondering what it possibly could be that had hurt Alex this badly, but that he had yet to reveal.

Now Tom knew that Alex didn't tell him everything, but the spy did trust him with pretty much. But whatever this was, it was something that Alex felt that he could not share, not only with not Tom (he frowned and shook his head at the weirdness of that thought), but with James, too – at least, that was what he supposed. Otherwise Alex wouldn't have been so reluctant to call James about all this.

An answer at the other side of the phone startled Tom out of his thoughts.

"Hello?" a dark, male voice grunted angrily. Or did he always sound like that?

"U-um, Mr Wolf...sir...?" Tom asked, carefully, just a little amused by the scowl that graced Alex's face at that. He didn't like this at all.

"Who is this?" the man on the other line growled suspiciously.

"My-my name is, um, To-Tom Harris, sir," he cleared his throat. "and I'm, uh, one of Alex's mates. Is this Wolf?" Tom decided to ask, just in case. But from Alex's descriptions of the man, it couldn't possibly be anyone else, now could it?

There was a short silence, the man on the other side of the phone probably contemplating whether Tom could be trusted or not. He came to a conclusion quick enough.

"Yes. What is it?" you could practically hear the glare on Wolf's face. But also a thin, very thin and barely audible, thread of worry.

"Um, something happened during P.E," Tom answered, slowly, hesitatingly. "and he's, uh, obviously in a lot of pain. But Alex doesn't have a key to your apartment, um, sir, and he claims that he's got pain meds in there..."

"Why didn't he call?" Wolf asked, though both of them knew that even if Alex had been shot in one leg and amputated both of his arms, he'd rather try to fix it himself. The spy didn't exactly like asking for help, from anyone.

"He's probably in too much pain," Tom explained, now anxiously, ignoring the glare that was sent his way by the boy in question. "you see, sir, he can barely walk and talk, uh... he's gonna kill me if I say more, but it'd be great if you'd come unlock the door for us, Mr Wolf, sir..."

"I'll be there," Wolf grunted, sounding seriously pissed. Tom almost got scared. "in five minutes."

And he hung up.

Tom stared at the phone for a good while, awe written across his face. He'd talked to an SAS agent...! How cool was that?

Anyway, it didn't take full five minutes for said SAS agent to get there – he was there within four, stomping up the stairs hurriedly.

"Tom Harris, eh?" he greeted, glaring. But it was just a low-level glare, so Tom tried not to get offended. Or frightened. He just nodded, the awe-stricken look on his face amplified by hundred. At least.

Wolf turned to Alex, his glare hardening.

"Cub." he said, carefully. Alex, whom had had his eyes closed, opened them slowly and looked at Wolf, without saying a word. He still couldn't quite trust his voice and would rather... make a love confession to Alan Blunt, than seem weak in front of Wolf. Not that his pride would quite allow that – making a love confession to Alan Blunt, that is (though Alex would never even dream of that, he shuddered at the mere thought), or looking weak in front of Wolf (or anyone other than Jack or James, really) – but still.

"Wolf." he replied, softly, in a quiet voice, but did not dare to say more than that.

Wolf seemed to understand, stood up and unlocked the door. Then he went back to Alex, making a move to help him, but the teen refused to get humiliated in such a way and stood up by himself, swaying a little. He cursed himself, Scorpia, snipers, bullet wounds and Keith Winston, as he forced his weak legs forward, pain slicing through him. But Alex bravely just gritted his teeth, frowning hard.

Tom was looking very anxious, taking a half step forward every time Alex made a move, but took a half step back as soon as he realized that his friend wasn't going to topple over.

Wolf was basically doing the same, though the glare that, as usual, graced his face hardened every time the spy looked like he was just about to collapse.

"Bloody hell, Cub, screw that stupid bravery of yours and ask for fucking help!" Wolf finally exclaimed, angrily, causing both of the boys to jump. Then he stomped over to his "ward", wrapped said ward's arm around his shoulders and helped Alex into the apartment, Tom, a little lost, stumbling after them.

Wolf helped Alex into his room, watching as the teen slowly and carefully rummaged through one of his bags, looking for his medication. Wolf still had no idea to what it was or when or why he had gotten it, but settled on asking that afterward, when the spy wasn't in so obviously much pain.

The SAS agent barely noticed Tom leaving the room and returning with a glass of water moments later, handing it to Alex, whom had just found his medications. The spy put a pill in his mouth and gulped it down with water, thankfully. Now he knew that the Codeine wasn't especially strong – Alex found himself blaming and cursing MI6 yet again – but it was definitely better than nothing it all.

The spy went to sit down on his bed, preferring to sit still. It was extremely painful to move around.

"You okay, mate?" Tom asked, worriedly, and sat down beside his friend. Alex nodded, surprisingly tired. "What happened? Did Keith, the annoying little twit, hit you? And why did you have meds for it, already? Old injury? Why haven't you told me?"

Tom was upset enough, not knowing anything about this – Alex didn't even want to imagine how pissed James would be, if he found out. But hopefully, he wouldn't. But then again, he'd probably have to tell Wolf, who'd tell the rest of the K-Unit, and one way or another, it would eventually leak out and reach James' ears. But Alex wouldn't give up any information without a fight.

"You better start talking up, Cub." Wolf said, his voice low and threatening. Alex cleared his throat, taking a discreet, deep breath before daring to try his voice.

"Keith kind of managed a kick on... an old injury." he explained, quietly. "But not on purpose... I got meds for it back when I got it," Alex paused briefly, once again making sure that his whole being wouldn't go against him and rebel in any way. "but I haven't really needed them. But now... they're definitely necessary."

And that was just about how much they were going to hear about how much it hurt; but Tom knew Alex well enough to realize that it must hurt like bloody hell, since Alex actually admitted – more or less – that he was in pain. Which he never usually did (voluntarily).

"Look, Tom, can we take this tomorrow? I'm not really up to talking about this now..."

"You're really coming tomorrow? I mean, can you?" Tom asked, worried all over again. "Man, mate, you could barely walk here yourself and I don't think it's a good idea if you--"

"See you tomorrow, Tom." Alex cut off, his eyes slightly narrowed. The shorter boy got the hint, nodded and picked his bag off the floor. He have Wolf another impressed and awe-struck look, murmured a low goodbye to Alex, turned to stare at Wolf again, his eyes as wide as plates, before hurrying out the door and eventually out of the apartment.

Both males were quiet for a long while. Wolf was leaning on the wall, arms crossed. Alex shifted carefully, trying desperately to find a position where his body hurt less. Not that it made much change, but still. He had to try.

Because it was the sort of pain that paralyzed the whole body, though it centered in one place only. His heart. Well, just above, really, but practically his heart. Alex didn't like thinking about it – how close it had really been, what could have happened, what actually did happen... how it had felt, what he had seen.

All those things were uncomfortable to think about. They didn't scare Alex – not much really did – it was just... unpleasant to think about. One of the worst things, had been the complete lack of control.

Wolf was the one to finally break the silence.

"Show me." he grunted, frowning slightly. K-Unit's leader, that was what he was – and he was proud of it. Proud of his unit, every one of them – maybe Tiger (the new member) a little less, since he still saw Fox as a member. Cub was also one of them. And Wolf didn't like seeing anyone in his unit hurt.

"What?" the teen, whom had just closed his eyes (to try and ignore is temporary guardian), opened them again.

"Show me. The wound." Wolf grumbled. "If that damned kid kicked you where you've got some old wound, it could be serious." he was clearly reluctant to talk about Alex getting serious wounds during missions. It angered him enough to not know what the teen had been up to, as it was. Damn spy wouldn't talk about it.

"I'm fine." Alex sighed. "Just need to sleep." he added, trying to make Wolf get the point.

"It could be serious." the SAS agent repeated. "And you'd rather wanna show it to me now than have Snake overreacting later."

Alex understood what that meant. Snake would be so overreacting, what with being the unit's medic(and woman). Would probably threaten the spy with a copious mass of sedatives and morphine, unless he showed him the real injury.

"Look, Wolf," he tried. "the mission is confidential--"

"But not the wound. Speak up, Cub."

Alex opened his mouth, just about to come up with a somewhat believable excuse, when someone assaulted the doorbell. Wolf glared, muttering about how Eagle was an idiotic imbecile who was too energetic and foolish for his own good. Plus a bunch of swearwords that the spy was pretty sure Wolf wouldn't repeat in front of his grandparents.

Eagle, looking uncharacteristically serious, lunged into the rooms moments later. His breathing was quick, as if he had been running.

"Cub!" he exclaimed. "What the hell's happened? Eric called and said you were hurt and we had no idea what it was--"

"You called Eagle?" Alex cut off, incredulously. He turned to Wolf, who was looking slightly uncomfortable. He shifted.

"Felt they needed to know." the man muttered. "And Eagle practically sees himself as your long lost uncle, or something." Wolf was hiding something. He didn't tell him the whole truth.

"You called Ben and Snake too?" the guessed, tiredly. Wolf shifted again and nodded, wordlessly. "Oh, great..."

"Hey, you should be happy all of us are willing to come running all this way, just for you, our beloved little Cub!" Eagle, apparently no longer as serious, exclaimed. Both Alex and Wolf raised an eyebrow at running. "What?" he added, at their looks.

"Nothing," Wolf grumbled, glaring at his teammate. "now, Cub. Back to the topic."

"I can't tell you a thing about my missions," the teen growled, growing more and more irritated. "I've signed the Official Secrets Act, haven't I? And just because some guy at school hits an old wound – it's at least two months old, probably more, so it doesn't matter, okay? – it doesn't give me the rights to go spill national secrets!"

"But as long as it concerns your health, the national-bloody-secrets doesn't matter one shitty bit!" Wolf hissed. He was pretty moody today. But as was Alex, and, being tired and hurt, he was quite snappy as well.

"I'm not freaking allowed to tell you about the bloody mission, okay?" the spy hissed. But getting angry was not good – his breathing got more hurried – and apparently, that wasn't good. It made him hurt even more, and Alex desperately tried to massage the wound to get rid some of the tension and pain. The SAS soldiers noticed and exchanged a somewhat-worried glance.

"We can't help you if you don't tell us what's wrong, Cub." Eagle had switched back to being serious again. But he seemed genuinely concerned, and while it was touching, it was also embarrassing and unnecessary.

"Look, there's a reason as to why I can't tell you," Alex hissed, frowning at the pain. The Codeine had yet to kick in. "you get that, don't you? You're fucking SAS! You should've probably heard about half of it, anyway; Scorpia's not really a small or that secretive an organization," he started rambling, almost unconsciously by now, barely paying the fact that he heard the front door being opened and closed, simply assuming that it was Fox or Snake that had arrived.

"And that they got humiliated by an MI6 operative is no secret, either," the spy continued. "so it's no wonder that they want revenge. Now I was just the unlucky bastard who brought them down which is the reason as to why they tried to assassinate me. I got shot and now it hurts, because I was kicked. Happy?"

It wasn't like Alex at all, to act like this. To lose focus and momentarily also control, getting riled up and annoyed enough to start babbling. He already felt bad about it.

"You got shot?"

Surprisingly, it was neither Wolf nor Eagle whom had asked.

In the door stood James (Fox right behind him, but the spy paid his fellow operative no heed), looking shocked – he had not heard of this at all. The shocked expression turned to a furious one – who the hell dared to shoot Alex!? – and on top of that, a hurt look. A betrayed one; because Alex had not mentioned this. He had not trusted James enough to say that he had gotten shot. And that was no little secret.

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There will be more feelings! Wolf will be yelling in the next chapter, I promise! Snake might even go berserk with a first aid kit!