Oh my god! I never intended to let 8 months go between updates, but life and work/college kept getting in the way, not to mention the writer's block from hell.

Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed/liked/followed this so far, I really do appreciate it!

He took a few stuttering steps towards the computer. As if he could physically bring himself closer to Alex with the action. His lungs seized. His heart faltered. His mind was suddenly silent. And then, as suddenly as the silence came about, a deafening rush of white noise surrounded him. His skin tingled. The shadows were back, threatening to pull him back under, to drown him again. The darkness encroached on the edges of his vision, until all he could see was one word, centred on the flashing screen. This wasn't happening. This wasn't real. It was all just a terrible nightmare, some horror cooked up in the deepest recesses of his subconscious, aimed at torturing himself for some stupid unresolved guilt. Any moment now he was going to wake up in his flat in London, and Alex would be banging on his door complaining that the coffee machine was on the fritz again and that it was time for him to get his "lazy arse out of bed before the day was wasted". He squeezed his eyes shut, white spots dancing across the backs of his eyelids. His fist were clenched, ragged fingernails cutting into calloused flesh. Using the bite in his palm as an anchor, Ben clawed his way out of the dark, and back to the present. He pulled a series of deep breaths into his burning, seizing lungs in a vain attempt to calm his stuttering heart and focus himself. He would not spiral. He could not submit to the dark. Not now. Slowly, the world around him came back to focus.

Around him, his comrades were in a similar state of shock. None of them quite comprehending the information before them. None of them quite sure what to do with the information handed to them. Surely it couldn't be true. Surely, someone would have known before now. So, they stood and they stared. They stared until that place and time was etched into their brain. Like it held all the answers of the universe. Because for all that mattered right now, it did.

Lynch crossed the base in purposeful strides. His conversation with Jackal and Caracal playing over in his mind. The two men and their units had shown up at his office barely twenty minutes ago as he had settled down with the first of many coffees and a hope to get ahead on some of his abandoned paperwork. That thought had quickly gone out the window when they'd knocked and filed in at his call. They came to a stop a few feet before his desk, falling into parade rest, Jackal and Caracal inches in front of their unit mates. Lynch took a moment to look over his men. Dark circles were starting to creep out. Their eyes reddened from endless hours of reading page after page. The exhausted air that hung around them. But what stood out the most to Lynch was the thinly veiled concern flashing in their eyes. He listened as Caracal detailed the last ten or so hours with Jackal's input here and there. As they neared the end of their report, he could see the growing tension in their frames, their mounting concern.

"... Daniels had finished inputting the flight numbers when we left, sir." Caracal paused, sharing a look with Jackal, silently asking should they tell him everything.

"Out with it." Never mind, seems they hesitated too long.

"Perhaps, sir," Jackal started, "it would be best if you checked on K."

Lynch pinned them with a look, searching for something more. After a moment, he nodded and stood. "Right, the lot of you, shower and get some rest. I have a feeling that regardless of how this lead pans out, we'll have a difficult path ahead of us."

And now, he crossed the base with purposeful strides. Jackal's words echoing in his head. The last week had taken its toll on them, but it had definitely hit K-unit the hardest. While their first meeting with Cub had been far less than perfect, they'd come a long way since then.

It wasn't long before he arrived at the repurposed briefing room and pushed the door open. He took a moment to take in his men's appearance. The narrowed, confused eyes. Clenched fists. A myriad of other emotions splayed across their features for the world to see. His concern ramped up a notch when all five men failed to react immediately to his entering. He strode forward, purposefully making his footsteps a touch heavier. K-Unit's gazes had flicked straight to him the second he had come within a couple of feet of them, but they had failed to snap to attention as they usually did, as was usually expected of them. His gaze found the screen that still held Ben's focus, and well, he supposed he could let it slide this once. After all, if this is what he thought it was, this was quite the development.

"Cub's last known?" Lynch stopped between Wolf and Eagle, his own sights set on the screen.

"We haven't had a chance to confirm it but we believe so." Wolf spoke up, the 'we hope so' went unsaid but everyone heard it. This was it. This was their last chance. If this turned out to be another dead end, he wasn't sure what else they could do.

"Alright, let's confirm this is Cub's last known." Lynch turned his gaze to Ben, who was still staring at the screen but seeming a little more aware of his surroundings. Sensing the man's gaze, Ben met his eyes and nodded resolutely.

"I can run facial rec." He started, moving towards the computer. "Since we have the flight number, we can find out the time it landed then isolate that footage." Ben zeroed in on his task, only vaguely aware of Lynch telling the rest of him team to 'at least get a bloody coffee and some air' before leaving, muttering about 'stubbornness being a family trait' despite the fact they weren't blood.

Sixty minutes came and went filled with keys clicking, aborted beeps, sighing and cursing, cup thudding and liquid sloshing. Who knew it would actually be so difficult to hack into an airport's security system? It took another twenty minutes for the facial recognition program to give them a result. Because of course luck was never on their side, and three other flights had to arrive within the same fifteen minutes of Alex's flight. But none of that mattered now, because there they were. Alex, Travis and Simmons floating at the edge of the crowd, playing the part of happy families - Travis with his hand curled around Simmons', and Alex a step behind them looking every bit the sullen teenager he could be at times. Almost missed except for the fact that something off camera, presumably, startled the crowd enough for the three seasoned agents to flick their gaze in the direction of the camera. A split second frame, but that was all they needed. Ben paused the footage, zeroing in Alex's features. Dark circles shadowing his eyes. Deep set tension across his posture. Apprehension and restlessness hidden beneath the mask of a bored teenager. But, undoubtedly, it was him. He was okay.

Ben couldn't help the shaky breath that escaped him. Alex was there. Alive. Oh, how he wished he could go back to that moment and warn them that something was about to happen. Tell them to check in the second they landed, let someone know they were back in the country, risks be damned. He screenshotted the frame, ensuring the date and time stamp was clearly visible in the lower corner, drafted an email to Jones and hit send. He rose from his seat and made his way out of the room, making sure to grab his phone from where it was buried under numerous papers.

He shared a brief look and nod with his former teammates before making his way outside. This wasn't a conversation he wanted, or needed, an audience for. Ben Daniels the former SAS turned government operative was a very different man to Ben Daniels the guardian and brother. He spared a glance around the immediate area, relieved that the base was still waking for the day and that there were many prying eyes around. Nevertheless, he still headed to the far side of the building near the tree line, in a vague sense of privacy.

He pulled in a breath so deep it almost hurt, in a vague attempt to relax his taut muscles, even though he knew it wouldn't work. Huffing out the last breath, he quickly unlocked his phone and brought up Jones' contact, his finger hovering over the dial button. A sense of all too familiar dread started to fight its way back into the pit of his stomach. Would Jones keep to her agreement? Or would she find some inane reason to go back on her word? Biting the proverbial bullet, he let his finger drop, and lifted the phone to his ear. The dial tone was almost deafening in the quiet of the morning, drowning out the muted going ons of the base, overpowering the birds nesting above. He was almost sure Jones was going to let the call ring out.

"What game are you playing Jones? How does this benefit anyone?"

"What are you on about, Daniels?"

"I'm on about the fact that ten days ago Alex, Travis and Simmons were back in the UK. Presumably following their target. So, tell me Jones, what the hell kind of game are you playing here?"

Jones' breaths were his only response. Ten seconds passed. Twenty. Twenty-five.

"Are you-"

"Don't do that, I know what Alex looks like. So, how did this happen? How does a suspected terrorist enter the country, and no one know about it? How was Alex taken from his own home, somewhere he was meant to be safe, under your watch?"

"Daniels, I assure you, we knew nothing of this. Alex never told us he was coming back, that…"

"Don't. Don't you dare turn this back on Alex. It wasn't his fault he got kidnapped." Ben all but snarled down the line.

Silence rang out on the other end. Jones' breaths and the distant flitter of office ambience resonated down the line.

"Ben," Jones sighed. "I'm sorry, I truly am, but we just-"

"Bull." Ben scoffed. "Jones, you're a bloody liar. You told me if I could find proof that Alex was alive, you would give me four weeks and the resources I needed to find him. Well, you have it."

"A ten day old video doesn't mean anything."

"And you know as well as I do that if a sixteen year old showed up dead on the streets of London, it would be all over the news. And I know you're aware that if any of the usual suspects had gotten hold of Alex, they'd be rubbing our faces in it. So, don't play that game with me Jones, my patience is quickly running out. Four weeks, two analysts and two field agents. Or you can accept my resignation and an interview with the BBC. I'm sure they'd be quite interested to hear about all Alex's exploits over the last couple of years, and just how many people were actually aware of them."

"Fine," Jones returned after a brief pause, "but Daniels, if you ever threaten me like that again, don't think you'll get away so lightly."

"There won't be a next time." He hung up and resisted the urge to chuck the device into the bushes. Instead, he took a minute to gather himself before heading back to K-unit. He let his head tip back against, bringing his gaze to the sky. Dark clouds were scattered across the sky, a looming threat of rain, exactly like the last several days. But today, streaks of white were starting to push back. Ben allowed a small smile to settle on his features. With one last deep breath, he pushed off the wall and made his way back inside.

He pushed open the door, and the low chattering of his comrades came to an immediate halt, and all eyes moved to him. He simply nodded. Grins broke out on each man's face, tension fell from their frames. They were far from finished but this was a big step in the right direction.

With a solid lead and resources, they could bring Alex home. They would bring Alex home.