To some extent, Wolf had always known.
It wasn't a revelation, and it wasn't something he was told. It wasn't something he realized all at once or some hunch that kept gaining evidence as time went on. It wasn't something he was glad to know, and it wasn't something he ever wanted proven.
Wolf had a lot of younger siblings. He was the second oldest, and that meant he and his older sister Nina took care of their siblings while their parents worked. His mother was a doctor who worked long hours and his father was an administrative assistant at one of the clinics in Cartagena, Columbia. They lived comfortably together, and though Wolf didn't enjoy taking care of his siblings day in and day out, he loved his family, and was ready to help however he needed to.
There were eight of them in total—Nina, James himself, Natalia, Canda, Tiago, Luz, Isabela, and Teo. Until Wolf was nine, the way they lived was simple—in the mornings their parents would wake them and then usually be gone to work. Nina and James and sometimes Canda would make breakfast, get the others ready, and they'd leave for their school together. Nina and James had a system—Nina was the caretaker and James was the protector. When one of their siblings got hurt, or was picked on, or some other bullshit, Nina was the one to comfort while James was the one to get payback.
James got into quite a few of his own scuffles, and was bruised more often than not. He knew about fights, he knew about fighting. That was why, when their parents sat them down one night and explained that people in their government were fighting, James didn't think it was a very big deal—someone would win the fight and they'd move on.
Now that Wolf was older, he knew that it was bigger than the tussles he got into on his way to and from school. Fighting was a simple term for war and insurrection, things he and his siblings couldn't understand yet. Although it eventually died down, his parents were worried about the growing unrest, and moved them to England when James was nine. He learned English and became a citizen of the United Kingdom, and not much changed until he knew just how badly their family would've been impacted.
But during the move and after, James' parents were even busier. They were caring, of course; James still has a good relationship with them. Adores them, honestly. But feeding, housing, clothing eight kids and paying for school and trying to give them opportunities in hobbies and extracurriculars was difficult when you'd just moved your whole lives across the world. They worked longer hours, and Nina and he picked up more of the slack. James became more of a parent than an older sibling—Nina took care of housework and he cooked most days, and together they managed to keep their siblings on the relatively correct path.
But Wolf knew teenagers. He knew how they looked and acted and he knew kids.
Wolf knew damn well somewhere he'd never wanted to admit that Cub had never been more than a child. Not in training, not at Point Blanc, and not now.
Amell Fischer arrived at the flat not long after K-Unit did.
Bear and Tiger was filling them in—telling them that apparently, Cub's adoptive father had shown up? Which, what the fuck? Wolf thought it was the stupidest thing he'd ever heard when he learned they'd actually entertained the fucker, but whatever. That was an issue for later.
Since Lion was out, and both Bear and Tiger looked like they hadn't had food in days, Wolf's fraternal instincts took over and he went to the kitchen to scavenge up something for a simple meal to feed them all. He was in the middle of that when the doorbell rang again.
Wolf didn't think L-Unit got this many coincidental visitors.
"Who is it?" He asked from the doorway of the kitchen, drying his hands on a towel. Bear was stood in the foyer, dark face ashy. Wolf didn't know him well, but he didn't like the look of him—he'd ask Snake to check him over later.
"Dunno," Bear said quietly. He glanced at Tiger, who was quick to step to the door. Eagle and Snake watched from the living room, taut and ready to move if needed.
The person at the door knocked again, and Wolf thought Tiger was going to break his bloody teeth. "Fuckin' bloody pricks," the man muttered under his breath before opening the door. "Yeah?"
"Hello. Is this the flat of L-Unit, of the British Special Air Service?"
And Wolf's instincts went haywire.
He knew Tiger and Bear were capable of handling themselves. He knew that just like he knew Snake and Eagle and Fox were mostly capable of handling themselves. Still, he knew if he wasn't here, he'd want Lion or someone else to look after his unit, so he was quick to put the towel down and step into the foyer in front of Bear.
"Who's asking?" Tiger asked as Wolf folded his arms, glaring at the newcomer.
The man met his eyes, and Wolf was immediately on edge.
He was a slimy bloke. Tall enough that it pissed Wolf off, but he was built like a fucking giraffe, too, so Wolf felt fairly confident he could take him in a fight. He had hair that needed a cut and a mustache that made Wolf physically sick to look at for too long.
The man reached into his pocket at Tiger's question, and Wolf tensed, but the man just pulled out an identification card to hand to him. Wolf looked over his shoulder as he said, "My name is Amell Fischer. I am the Assistant Deputy Head of MI6. I've come to ask some questions about one of your unit members."
Wolf liked to think he kept his reaction fairly well-contained, but inside, his guts were turning.
They were supposed to have more time than this.
"Well, half my unit is out at the moment, so you're not gonna get much," Tiger said, handing the card back with an unimpressed stare. Wolf was impressed with how unaffected he seemed, though he must've been thinking the same thing as Wolf. He heard Bear back up behind him and slip into the living room, out of sight; perhaps to make himself less available for questions. "Who are you asking for?"
"I have some questions about…Jaguar, I believe was his code name. Matthew Smith?"
"You'll have to come back when he's here," Wolf said, straightening his posture to appear a little more intimidating, prepared to slam the door in this guy's face if necessary.
"Actually, I came to talk to his unit, not him," Fischer amended, and Wolf was becoming increasingly angry with how little his face changed. Guy was a fucking machine—Wolf didn't think he was human with his flat eyes and toneless voice. "Regarding the legality of his participation in the SAS."
"Well, like we said, he's not here," Wolf said, eager to get this guy out of the picture so they could get the hell out of dodge. "And we don't really give a shit about the rest of it, so—"
"Are you aware that his real name is Alex Rider, and he's been concealing his true identity from the Special Air Service with forged documents?" Fischer said, and Wolf blinked.
This was where the territory got dangerous.
Unconcerned about the death glare he received, Wolf pushed his way in front of Tiger and glared at Fischer. "If you have any questions or further allegations, you'll need to talk to our Sergeant. You can reach his assistant via the phone number on the SAS recruitment page, or if you have contacts with MI6, you may have a more direct method—"
"Mr. San Luca, I am not here to waste your time, and I do not want mine wasted," the man said, and for the first time, Wolf detected a hint of exasperation, if nothing else. "Were you or were you not aware of Alex Rider's crimes?"
Crimes. Like he was a fucking criminal for feeling the need to hide himself in the army to escape them? Wolf wanted to lay him out right there.
Still, he just locked his jaw and said, "Like I said. We don't have the authority to speak on this, nor do we want to."
Fischer's face changed, then. Instead of the cordial, unfeeling man, he smiled. It was anything but kind. "I see. Then I feel it necessary to at least inform you of some of the things he forged, as you as his units have also been adversely affected by his actions."
"We're good," Wolf said, moving to close the door. "Contact our Sergeant—"
"If you were unaware of his name, were you at least aware that Alex Rider is, by our records, only sixteen years old?"
Wolf's hand froze.
That…couldn't. That couldn't be right.
No.
Wolf hadn't let a kid younger than his youngest sister onto the battlefield with him. Wolf hadn't watched a kid that young thrown across the room by that monster of a woman, hadn't egged him on back into a warzone without so much as a gun. That—no. Because two years ago—
Two years ago, at Brecon Beacons, at Point Blanc…Cub would've only been fourteen years old.
And there was no bloody way.
And yet, Wolf knew, and had always known in some tiny silent part of his mind, and had always wanted to fervently to be wrong.
"That's bullshit," Wolf heard Tiger say behind him. He didn't see or hear what Snake and Eagle and Bear did or said, but Wolf knew that it probably wasn't bullshit at all. In fact, it made perfect sense.
"…it's not going to be that easy," Fox had said hesitantly.
Sergeant Callaway glanced at him. "Well, no, I'd reckon fucking not, Daniels. It's a teenager pinned between a terrorist organization that won't stay dead and an intelligence agency we can't kill in the first place. What part of this screamed easy?"
Fox fidgeted. "That's not what I mean. I mean there's something Alex hasn't told you yet, that I found out when I worked with him, that I don't think I was ever supposed to know. It's…going to be much easier to take him than you think it is. As easy as showing the proper documentation."
The proper documentation—his birth certificate, his schooling records. No one would argue taking a child out of the army, especially when he was too young to be there. Even in the regular British Army, he couldn't join at sixteen without parental permission, but the SAS? Wolf had been shocked he'd gotten in at nineteen.
No, this all made horrifying, terrible sense.
Wolf didn't even have it in him to question the man in front of him. He knew there was a very real possibility that Fischer was lying, and Cub was nineteen, like he'd always said.
Wolf had also been working in the army far too long to ignore his instincts or to shy away from ugly realities.
"No, we were not aware," Wolf said as evenly as he could, but he knew he couldn't keep this reaction off his face. He was never going to forgive himself for allowing Cub to walk back into that mountaintop school with him. "Regardless, you still need to go through our Sergeant. Without documentation or proof, or an officer for that matter, I don't know what you're trying to accomplish, but you're not going to get much out of this. And since you said you didn't want to waste our time or your own, I'd recommend going the fuck home and trying what I've suggested three times now—calling the Sergeant." A/N: YES SIREE WOLF GET HIS ASS
Fischer's smile was satisfied. Wolf wanted to punch it off of him. "I see. In that case, thank you for your time. I will be sure that when I come back, it is with documentation and an officer, and hopefully we can resolve this safely and peacefully, and place Alex somewhere safe. This is a dangerous world for children."
"Get the fuck away from my flat," Tiger growled from behind him, and Wolf knew without a shadow of a doubt that if the man thought he could get past Wolf to take a swing at Fischer, he would've tried. Wolf thought he still might, and he wasn't sure he was going to try very hard to stop him. "You're the only one here who's a fucking danger to him—"
"Tiger," Wolf bit. He didn't want to show their cards just yet—Fischer still couldn't prove that they knew anything. "Fischer, you need to leave. I'm not going to say it again."
Fischer's eyes slid from Tiger to him, satisfied smile still in place, and Wolf took it back. This man wasn't a robot—he was a demon. "You don't need to. I've heard you loud and clear. We'll resolve the matter accordingly."
And he was about to leave. He was about to fucking leave. Wolf was at the door watching him to make sure he did genuinely leave. But at the same time, like something out of a fucking cartoon, Cub walked around the corner and stumbled right into him.
Wolf wasn't prepared for the wave of emotion that sucker-punched him when he saw Cub.
When Wolf was sixteen, he thought he had it rough because he had to chauffer his siblings to every corner of Durham. When he was fourteen he thought he had it rough because although he was pretty fluent in English, he still has a Columbian accent, and kids weren't kind about it. He'd thought he had it rough because he often couldn't participate in all his own extracurriculars and sports because he was helping so much at home. He knew objectively that other kids had it worse, but he didn't know until he really talked to Snake about the way he grew up, until he learned how awful Fox's mum was.
When Wolf first walked onto the battlefield when he was twenty-two, though he thought he did a good job of hiding it, he was terrified.
And—
Fourteen.
And here he was, and it was so much clearer now that he knew. The way he hunched his shoulders, the way his eyes kept shifting, the way he was so isolated.
Wolf knew for certain everything he was feeling showed on his face, and he didn't even have the presence of mind to hide it.
"Sorry," Cub said once Lion had steadied him. Wolf caught Lion's eye and saw Fox come up behind them—
And shit. Fox knew. Fox had always known. And even though Wolf knew that it was a delicate situation—he'd let him continue?
But that wasn't the issue right now.
"No harm done," Fischer said, adjusting his coat. Wolf opened his mouth to cut in and tell him to beat it, but he continued, "Thank you for your hospitality, and I'm glad I could shed some light on the subject."
Wolf felt Tiger tense at his back and moved as subtly as he could to further block the door. The last thing they needed was to worry about one of their own in jail for assaulting the Assistant Deputy Head of MI6 on top of all this other shit. Wolf looked at Cub, just—to reassure himself, to prove himself wrong, or something, but that was the wrong move, because he still wasn't in control of his expression. And Cub, despite being young—too young, too young—had never been stupid.
"Wolf?" He said quietly, his eyes filling with hesitant fear, and fuck, he sounded young.
Don't look at me like that. Not when I'm just as bad as them for taking you back.
Wolf straightened, clenching his jaw and shoving it all away, because he'd always been one of the oldest, and it was no different now. The protector, the defender—he knew how to be those things. Those things were familiar, and he knew how to defend.
"You get the fuck away," Wolf said to Fischer. "Fox, Lion, Cub, get inside." The sooner they were all safe, the sooner they could be on the move, because their timeline had just been crushed.
Lion was a leader for a reason, and knew what his tone meant. He was quick to steer Cub inside, Fox just behind them.
And then, because he was Cub, and because he was young, Cub said, "Wait. Who are you?"
"Cub—"
"Amell Fischer. I am the Assistant Deputy Head of MI6. A pleasure to meet you in person."
Fuck. Fuck. No. They didn't have the bloody time, and Wolf didn't want Cub to know yet—
But he couldn't stop the recognition or the fear on Cub's face, and he couldn't stop the set of his jaw or the question, "What do you want?"
"Only your safety. It is…dangerous…for someone as young as you to be doing these kinds of things, my boy. As one of your legal guardians, I felt it best to enlighten your deluded companions, as I am sure they agree with me."
Fuck.
"I'm going to say it one more time, since you seem absolutely fucking dense," Wolf said evenly, well aware of the way Alex's face paled, the way his breath hitched, the way he looked absolutely wrecked with fear. The way his knees began to shake and the way he began to sink, the way Lion caught him when he finally couldn't hold himself up anymore. "You're going to get the fuck away from my units in the next three seconds or I won't be held responsible for my actions."
Fischer smiled. One. "I understand your position, but—" Two. "—I'm not sure Lion has been filled in, and I'd like to ensure—" Three.
Wolf knew his problem. He wasn't a diplomat—that was Nina's job, Snake's job. It had never been his. He was a protector, and always had been, and was sick of pretending otherwise.
He moved around Lion, and Alex, still on the ground in the entryway, only having just fallen, and took pleasure in the way Fischer's eyes widened when Wolf's forearm found his throat.
In just a second, he'd slammed the man against the wall opposite L-Unit's flat, and the height difference no longer meant a damn thing with Wolf keeping him firmly against the wall with his knees bent, struggling to gain his footing.
"You're done talking," Wolf seethed, putting a little more pressure on his forearm, enjoying the way Fischer's eyes narrowed in anger but his body bucked uselessly. "Now you're going to listen. I don't give a fuck who you are, and I don't give a fuck who he is. I don't care of he's Alex, Matthew, Cub, Jaguar, he's in my fucking unit. And my supervisor is the Sergeant, not MI6. Investigation of this falls to the local police or to MI5—the one in charge of internal investigations. You have no jurisdiction, and neither does MI6. You have no proof, and we didn't know. Letting you take him now would be fucking reckless, I think any officer would agree, don't you? You've gone beyond informing us, and we've asked you to leave six times now. That easily falls under harassment, and if I didn't want to deal with your arse anymore, I'd call the police and have you removed. You do not scare me or my unit, and you don't have any more power than some nobody off the street. I'm going to give you five more seconds to get the fuck away from here before I drag you myself—and I think both of us know who's going to win in a fight."
Fischer's face reddened with each word, both from the pressure of Wolf's arm and the mounting anger in his expression, and the man's eyes narrowed to beady little slits. Wolf was reminded of a snake's eyes from the grass. Still, he made good on his word and let Fischer go with a shove, keeping himself firmly planted in front of the door.
"Five," he began counting as Fischer slumped against the wall with a hand against his throat, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
"You—" The man choked on the word, fire in his face. "We only have his—ugh—best interests—"
"Four."
Fischer scoffed and made his way unsteadily to the stairwell, a hand trailing the wall for support.
"Three."
Fischer's teeth clacked as he clenched his jaw.
"Two."
"This is not over." His voice was low and furious.
Wolf's eyes narrowed. "One."
Fischer disappeared around the corner. Wolf heard his heavy footsteps echo up the stairwell.
But he knew Fischer was right—this was bloody far from over.
…
Telling Lion was the hardest part. Once Snake and Bear had both checked Alex over and assured them that he was just exhausted, and the additional panic had just been too much for him at the moment, Lion got him settled in his room and then asked, rightly so, what in the bloody hell happened.
Bear was sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. Tiger's body was so taut Wolf was worried the man's bones were going to splinter. Eagle had been stimming with a rubber bracelet in one of the armchairs, but it was evident how upset he was. Snake was making himself busy—burying his feelings for later, no doubt—by trying to organize his medical kit. And Fox…Wolf knew his friend was smart enough to put two and two together.
Lion was the only one who didn't know.
"What the fuck happened?" Lion demanded again when he was met with silence the first time, his voice rising the longer he went unanswered.
Wolf wasn't the diplomat. He wasn't the communicator, and he wasn't the caretaker.
But he was the leader, and he knew it fell to him.
"That prick was from MI6," he began, standing and stretching a little, stiff and tense and desperate to hit something. "He came to—I don't fucking know, he didn't seem like he wanted to take Alex. Just…fuck, okay." Okay. "Cub—Alex isn't nineteen. Never has been. I suppose when he had to change everything, to hide, he changed his age too. He's not—" Wolf breathed. He didn't stumble over his words, he didn't balk at ugly reality. He took a deep breath. "He's only sixteen right now. When he started two years ago, he was fourteen. When Fox mentioned the proper documentation, he meant anything to prove his age. No one in their right mind would let an underage kid stay in the SAS, in an active warzone. They have a hell of a good argument to use their custody of him to have him removed, and since he's still a kid, the custody is still in effect."
Wolf said everything as calmly as he could.
He didn't think it helped.
Lion deflated.
It was like watching the air drain from a balloon, like watching a plant wilt. It was like watching weight triple in an instant.
"He can't be," Lion said eventually, looking around. His face was very, very blank, though the way his body sank let Wolf know just how affected he was. He knew the feeling. "No—he can't be. He's—there's no way he's that young, it's just not reasonable. Sixteen-year-olds can't do what he does, fourteen-year-olds can't survive the things he did."
There was a pause. "Somehow, he did," Wolf said, his voice low.
Lion sank into one of the only free armchairs, blinked at the tellie, and shook his head. "I told him—he could stay. I told him we'd figure it out."
Wolf winced. "We will."
"I know we will," Lion all but snapped, "but—but he can't stay in the SAS, he can't go back into the field, and how can we—"
"We'll figure it out," Wolf assured again, but he was at a loss. He didn't know how to fix this—not in a way that all of them would make it out unscathed. He was the protector. He didn't know how to fix.
"I…need to call the Sergeant," Fox said eventually, moving to stand. His voice was heavy with regret.
Wolf saw Lion flinch and watched his face darken. For a moment, Wolf thought he was going to have to stop a fight—he could practically see the words running through Lion's mind, because to an extent, he was thinking the same thing.
You knew. You knew, and you let him continue. You knew, and you didn't tell anyone. Didn't tell us—didn't tell me. You knew and you did nothing to stop it. Did you even try?
But Lion didn't say anything like that. He was about to, Wolf could tell, but eventually the man just shook his head and scoffed.
They were drowning in the silence when Fox finally stepped outside.
Wolf have never wanted to be the protector less than he did right then, because he knew he hadn't been able to protect anything at all.
…
They know.
That was my first thought.
I felt sluggish, foggy and slow. My limbs was delayed from my thoughts, and moving felt so hard. I didn't know where I was for a few seconds, and I didn't know what had led to my unconsciousness, either. I didn't know.
But I knew that one thing.
They know. Despite how hard I'd worked to keep them from knowing, to keep things the way they were, as much as I could, they knew.
Forget that MI6 was here, forget that it was falling apart.
They knew, and I couldn't imagine—
My phone buzzed in my pocket. I didn't remember taking it out before—oh. No, I hadn't fallen asleep. I'd collapsed.
I fished it out, movements slow and staticky, and through blurred vision, saw dozens of texts from Tom.
I didn't even bother reading them before I called him, because—he'd always known. That was okay. He was okay. He'd always known, and he wasn't going to be mad about that.
He picked up on the first ring.
"Al? Mate—God, I couldn't get you on the phone, none of your unit was answering, I didn't—" I heard him stop and taking a shaky, unsteady breath, before continuing, "Italy is too far away. I can't—shit. I was scared, Alex. You really scared me, mate. What happened?"
I swallowed, and stared at the ceiling, and choked down the tears threatening the steadiness of my voice, because I didn't have room for that right now. I took a deep breath. "They know."
Tom paused. When he spoke again, his voice was hesitant. "They know—what? What do they know?"
I swallowed again. It hurt. "Everything."
"Ev—everything? Everything everything?"
"Yes."
The silence was thick.
"Oh. Oh, Al. I'm—I'm so sorry, mate. I know you wanted—okay. That's okay. We can still figure this out, alright? Even if they have to move you, they're not going to just drop you, they're not going to just let you go. You know that as well as I do. Everything's going to be fine."
I blinked thickly as Tom continued, sounding frantic and rushed, sounding desperate.
"MI6 was here," I said finally, quietly. "And so was Edward."
Tom paused. "What?" I didn't answer. "What the fuck—why was he there?"
"To try to convince me to go back to MI6, so they could place me somewhere safe until I turned eighteen. We both knew they wouldn't, but he still asked."
Tom wasn't quiet. Tom always had something to say, something to add. The amount of silence in this conversation told me just how bad this was. "That bastard."
"Tom, I don't know what to do," I finally admitted. I was being crushed. I was being flattened by everything, decimated by it all, and I couldn't stop it or understand it. "I don't know what to do. I can't—I can't—"
"We are going to figure this out, Alex," Tom said decisively. "I don't—I dunno how, but somehow, we'll figure something out. You can come here. We snuck you into Italy once, we can do it again, can't we? I'll hide you as long as we need to. You know Jerry would do the same. Hell, we—I have savings, we could go backpack around America for a while, yeah? Your friend can get us papers, we'll get jobs, we'll just lay low until it's over."
And he made it sound so easy, and I knew I would never, ever deserve Tom, because here he was offering to throw his entire life away to run away with me so I wouldn't have to be alone. And I knew he would if I asked.
But I couldn't run anymore, because MI6 had been here. At the doorstep of this place of safety. Knocking at the gates of my solace, and it would take so little to tear them down. I couldn't run—they would pay for it if I did, L-Unit and K-Unit. My family. I wouldn't—couldn't and wouldn't—let another family be crippled because of me. Broken and hurt because of me.
"I can't."
Tom made a frustrated noise, but said quietly, on the verge of tears, "I know. I know you can't. But—we could."
"I know. Thank you."
"Don't say thank you like you wouldn't do the same for me," Tom said roughly, his voice muffled like his face was shoved into something, like he was trying to hide the tremor in his voice.
I smiled at that, just a little. "I don't…I don't know when I'm going back."
"If. And you're not."
I didn't argue. I didn't have the strength. "If. But…I may not have time to let you know."
"You will. Just…a text. Just a quick text, okay?"
"I'll do my best."
"I know you will."
There was a knock on my door. They must've heard me talking.
"I have to go."
Even in the silence, I could hear how reluctant he was to hang up. "I can…come there. Until it gets fixed. Just to hang out."
"No, please don't," I said a little more quickly than I meant to. "You're safe there. I don't want them to have access to you."
Tom breathed. It shook. "I know. But if you want me to, I can."
"I know. Thank you."
"Okay."
"Okay."
I had to hang up first. Otherwise neither of us would. "I'll…try to call you."
"Do that."
"Bye, Tom."
Tom's voice hitched. "I'll talk to you bloody soon, you prat. You'll see. Okay?"
"Okay. Speak later."
"Okay."
I hung up, and I gave myself three seconds, and I sat up, sitting on the edge of the bed. I felt fuzzy.
"Come in."
It was Lion. It was always Lion.
I couldn't look at him.
He shut the door with a quiet click behind him and stayed there.
"Hey, Alex."
I cringed at his voice. God, it was so heavy.
"Hi," I said thickly after a long second of quiet. "They…told you. Yeah?"
"Yeah."
I nodded to my socked feet. My socks didn't match. I wonder how I hadn't noticed that before now.
"So?" I said quietly, sliding my eyes in his direction, still hesitant to look at him.
Lion took a steadying breath. "So…it's become a lot more complicated. But the plan is still the same. Snake and I are going to head to the safehouse ahead of you and do a perimeter check, make sure safety measures are in place, all that. It'll look less suspicious if we don't leave all at once, too, since we're sure they're surveilling us. Sergeant's going to send an undercover detail soon to make sure we can shake off any tails."
And though I was glad to know this, that wasn't what I wanted to ask. I swallowed, and nodded, and said quietly, "Are you mad?"
I sounded young. I supposed I didn't need to worry about that anymore, though.
Lion took a long minute to answer, and I felt my shoulders slump.
"I'm not mad," he said. "I'm…surprised, but—"
"You're mad," I corrected. "I can hear it."
Another pause. "I am. You're right. But not at you."
I looked away, towards the nightstand. "I understand if—if you are."
"I'm worried. I'm upset. I'm frustrated, and I'm angry at myself for not noticing it sooner. I'm angry at you for putting yourself in that kind of danger, but I'm not mad at you for the lie, or for keeping it from us. You were as honest as you could be."
No, I wasn't. I never had been.
I blinked quickly, because I didn't have room for these emotions. I had to shut them down. "I'm sorry. I really am. I really, really am."
Lion came further into the room, and I listened to his footsteps as he sat down beside me. "I know you are. I'm sorry this is happening."
"You don't have to be sorry. It's not your fault."
"Alex, look at me, kid. Come on."
I didn't want to. I didn't want to see the expression on his face. I didn't want to acknowledge the guilt in my stomach or the hurt at knowing this was all coming to a rapid end. Next time they came, they would come with the intention to take me, and after that, they would resort to violence and threats and blackmail. They would no longer be satisfied with threats of deportation, because they knew I'd learned from that—they wouldn't take any chances, and I would fold immediately, because I always would at threats to family. I always had and always would, and I knew it would be soon.
Still, I looked. I had enough strength left for that.
Lion put a careful hand on my shoulder and ducked low, meeting my eyes when I still wouldn't look up at him. "I am so sorry that this happened to you."
I shook my head. No, he shouldn't be apologizing, I should be the sorry one, I should be the one—
"No, don't shake me off. I can't imagine what you've been through. I can't even begin to imagine. If no one has said it yet, if no one has looked at you and acknowledged it, then I am so fucking sorry for everything they've put you through, Alex. I'm so sorry you had to lie about everything and hide who you were. I'm so sorry you had to put yourself on the battlefield just to avoid another one. I'm so sorry we didn't see this sooner. And I'm so, so sorry you didn't get to be the one to tell us."
"Stop, stop, stop," I said quietly, putting my hands over my ears the longer he went on, ducking my head, because I couldn't hear this, not when I'd hurt them so badly. "Stop, Lion, stop, I'm sorry, I'm the one who's so sorry—"
Lion didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around me, chin on top of my head as I continued to try to block out his words.
"You don't have to be sorry. You didn't do anything wrong."
And fuck.
I'd waited so long to hear that.
I'd waited so, so long to hear that.
I tried to swallow it down again, but this time I couldn't stop it.
I felt the first tears leak out, and I tried to keep them back. My body shook with the effort. I tried to swallow it, to shove it down, to push it away and back and in the corner where it belonged but it was too much and I'd been on the edge since I woke, since I woke yesterday from the drugs, was it only yesterday, and I couldn't—I didn't know how long I could—
"It's okay," I barely heard Lion through my hands. "You're okay. Let it go."
It was a testament to how fragile my dam had become that that was all it took.
I sobbed. Properly. With everything in me. I cried.
Because he knew and he wasn't leaving. They knew and they weren't leaving.
"I'm not going anywhere," he confirmed quietly, holding me, holding me together even as I broke. "We're all still here. You're still here. We'll keep that the same as long as we possibly can, okay? I'm still here. I'll always be here."
And fuck, if that didn't hurt. If that didn't hurt.
Because he was the only one I'd ever believed in, and I knew he really would be.
I sobbed. I sobbed and I finally felt sixteen again. Young again. And it hurt and it sucked, but it was also so heavy being older, so heavy holding the secret, and here he was, taking it from me again. Taking things away from me that I couldn't hold and telling me it was okay when it wasn't.
I sobbed and he stayed, and even as I shattered, I felt a single, small piece heal.
…
It ended, as I knew it would.
Lion and Snake had left an hour ago, and said they'd let us know as soon as they arrived safely. Eagle had brought K-Unit's packed things, and Bear had already helped me pack my own duffle. We'd wait until we had the all clear and then we'd follow. Bear was monitoring the surveillance around the flat. No one else had said anything to me, and I didn't bring it up.
It was awkward, but the fact that they were all still here was more than enough for right now.
Bear's phone rang. I glanced up, but a lot of people called him. I wasn't worried.
Then Wolf's phone rang.
But still, Wolf had a big family. Maybe it was one of them.
I wasn't immensely worried until I saw the way Bear's face collapsed. Until I saw the way Wolf's face drained of color. Until I saw the way the two of them locked eyes.
"What?" Tiger said quickly, having picked up on it the same time I did. Eagle's head shot up, and I heard Fox coming from the kitchen. "What is it?"
"Was that—" Bear said to Wolf.
"Yes," Wolf confirmed, and I'd never seen Wolf look quite so scared. Not in the plane, not at the door in front of Fischer—never.
"That was Savernake Hospital," Wolf said, standing and grabbing his keys with trembling hands, moving as fast as he could on legs that were shaking, and Bear was quick behind him. My heart pounded, and I could barely hear him over my pulse in my ears, but I heard him.
"There was an accident."
A/N:
Thanks so so so so much to everyone who reviewed: NeleWW, Em0Wolf, Wraith and Demjin, otterpineapple06, MillieM04, Padfoot's Marauder, Storyspinner16, Guest, , Clover266, OnlyABookworm, Asilrettor, Jess, Cakemania225, GrangerWinchester, Guest, PuffandPround, Guest, Finnix, Riderkitty, Guest, Guest, DudeTrusttheCloak, Guest, KMER79, marthecaterpillar, Guest, Guest, Lisabeth Mills, Guest, sakshi06, Ff1892, Guest, Guest, GracieGreekology, Guest, Guest, and Guest!
Em0Wolf: Hahaha thank you! Yeah, me too. Edward isn't evil—just broken and kind of without a way to get better. Thanks!
Storyspinner16: Hahahaha thanks so much! Here it is!
Guest (Okay. I've been reading…): Omg. Oh my goodness. Wow. This was such an incredible, wonderful, humbling review to receive. I am so, so glad that this story has helped you, and I am so glad you're enjoying it and will continue to do so. If you do start writing again, and you publish anything here, I'd love to read it! I would genuinely love to! Maybe you can change me with your writing, as well. And haha, yeah, I'm not British so I'm genuinely not sure if those are commonly used terms, so I understand why it may be a little much. Also, no, I don't have as much experience with alcoholism and addiction as I do general mental health. Do you have anything specific I can change to make it more realistic? Thank you so much for an amazing review, and I hope to see you in the reviews again!
Jess: OH NO I HOPE YOU STILL HAD A GOOD CHRISTMAS
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Guest (Thank you for reassuring me Fischer's going…): Of course, I could never leave that out! Hehehehehehehe. RIGHT LIKE LEAVE EDWARD ALONE. Hahahaha tysm!
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Lisabeth Mills: Hahahahahaahaha whoops. Ty!
Guest (AYO WHERE'S OUR NEW YEARS UPDATE): HERE YOU GO! Hahahahahaha thanks so much! No there's no schedule, I just update as I write!
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Thanks so much for all your continued, wonderful support! You're all amazing!