I went back to the cabin later that day.

I was going to have to go back at some point. Luckily, when I got there, the others were still out training. I wondered how bad this looked on me, skipping training, punching my unit mates. Missing meals and sleep.

I wondered when I'd stopped caring so much.

Listening for a moment, making sure no one was approaching the cabin, I fished the folded, worn photos out from the bottom of my bag and thumbed through them, sitting on my hard bed in the cold. They had everyone—my parents, the Pleasures, Ian, Jack…even Yassen.

Everyone was dead. Well, Liz and Edward were alive…but hell, I was probably dead to them.

Voices drifted through the closed door. With practiced haste, I dropped the photos to the bottom of the bag and plucked up a book, opening to a random page and pretending to read. My back was to the door.

It opened, and the voices stopped when they saw me.

"Jaguar," Lion said, his voice a mixture of concerned and pissed. "We didn't think we'd see you the rest of the day."

"I didn't combust," I responded flatly, turning the page. "I'm still here."

"How's your chest?" Bear asked, uncertainly.

Hesitantly, I said, "Better now. Thanks."

I felt bad. Bear and Lion had actually been nothing but nice and welcoming. Tiger just pushed every button I had.

I sighed. Probably time to do something about that.

"Tiger," I said slowly. Tiger's eyes flicked to mine, and he hid his surprise that I was addressing him directly. "I'm sorry I hit you."

He couldn't quite hide his surprise at that. Neither could the others.

"But you ever say anything like that to me again, I'll break your nose."

Tiger's eyes narrowed. I had a feeling that was more like what he'd been expecting. "You talk a big game for a runt with a faulty battery," he said gruffly, slinging himself into his bunk.

"So do you for a guy who needs a pocket dictionary for French," I retorted, eyes hard. I nodded my head to the smaller book poking just out of his bag. "Communications expert indeed."

Tiger leaned just far enough over to glare down at me, saying, "Watch it, you bloody pipsqueak. Give me something else to kick your ass over, I dare you."

"Guys, can you settle down for a damn minute?" Lion asked, hands out placatingly. "We've only got a bit of downtime—"

"Don't let me spoil it for her royal highness," I said, shoving my book in my bag. "I'll be at the range."

"Have fun with your cardboard cutouts, kiddie!" Tiger shouted.

"Good God, it's like having preteen girls," Bear said exhaustedly.

I couldn't quite help a snort at that.

The range wasn't much help.

I managed to nick the ear of a human target, much closer than I'd gotten previously, but still nothing on the kill shot. Sighing, frustrated, I recognized that I wouldn't get anymore quality practice that day, and replaced the gun.

We had a lecture that day on undercover operations. I felt foolish having to go to it, but I dragged myself there and grabbed a seat in the back. I didn't see my unit, which was just as well. I probably wouldn't have taken the initiative to sit with them anyhow.

Unfortunately Lion, the outstanding leader he was, made us sit together in an effort to improve relations.

Needless to say, Lion and Bear sat in the middle.

The lecture was mind-numbingly boring, especially to someone who was actively undercover, using a fake name, personality, background, and disguise, keeping a low profile in a hostile environment.

AKA, yours truly.

I sighed, looking forward to some rest tonight. Granted, I couldn't be sure Tiger wouldn't start a campfire with my belongings when I wasn't looking, but still—the prospect of some real sleep was nice.

I should've known the luck of the devil couldn't last that long.

I'd gotten maybe three hours of sleep when the door was kicked down.

My instincts reacted before my mind woke up, launching my body out of bed and into a defensive stance behind it, trying to put some obstacles between us. I blinked rapidly to clear my vision and heard the others waking up, dragged out of bed or startled awake by the noise.

What was happening? Was the base being attacked?

Or was someone here for me?

Had I really been discovered after only six months?

A fist came at me, and I ducked, sending a roundhouse kick to the assailant's chest. He stumbled back with a wheezed breath, but more men were piling into the room. Lion and Bear had already been dragged outside, and Tiger was being dragged down from his upper bunk.

I was fighting well, but I'd been surprised, overwhelmed, and already exhausted. Someone got in a lucky shot, catching me in the chin. My head snapped back as my lip split open, and someone seized my arm, twisting it behind my back and propelling me forward.

I hissed in pain, struggling anyways, but then there were two, and then three, guys dragging me outside. The forced me to my knees in the mud, the rest of the unit already lined up.

I landed with a grunt, and they released me, but a cold circle of metal at the back of my neck kept my from retaliating.

"Damn kid can squirm," someone said behind me.

"Is that you excuse for taking so long to get him out here?" The man in front of us said. Risking a glance, I looked up at him. He was tall, way taller than me, in black tactical gear with a handgun in his palm. His face was shrouded in the darkness, but I could tell he had sharp features, and angular jaw with hard eyes to match.

The man behind me didn't answer, just dug the muzzle harder into the back of my neck. Hissing, I held my hands a little higher.

"Get them out of here," the leader said, and my arms were immediately grabbed. I was lifted and dragged away towards the storage barracks, the rest of my unit being dragged in front of me in a similar fashion.

I didn't fight back. I decided to wait it out, see what was going on before reacting.

They threw us into the room like sacks of potatoes and shut the door, a couple dim bulbs illuminating the shoddy space.

Dusting my knees off and standing, I went immediately to the door, testing the lock.

"Don't bother," Lion said, making himself comfortable against a wall. "The Green Jackets aren't that sloppy."

"Green Jackets?" I asked, testing the hinges for weaknesses. Why did that name sound familiar?

"RTI enforcers. Buch of bloody blockheads, you ask me," Tiger scoffed, positioning himself next to Lion. "Bear, you alright?"

"Peachy," the medic spat, sitting up and hissing, an arm around his ribs. "Damn guy could split a rock with that punch."

"Anything broken?" I asked absently, feeling the draft from the crack of the door.

"Nah, just bruised," he admitted, lying back down. "I bloody hate RTI."

If I was being honest, I'd never been more relieved to hear that this was a scheduled training exercise on interrogation.

The other options were much worse.

"Just resist interrogation?" I asked, giving up on the door and running my fingers along the wall, looking for loose nails or boards I could either pry away or use for a weapon.

"Pretty much," Lion responded. "Anybody spills, we're all binned—or, in our case, put on probation, since we're an established unit."

"Got it, runt?" Tiger grunted, voice deadly serious. "Don't spill. We clear?"

I scoffed. "You don't have to worry about that."

The Green Jackets came back after a few hours and dragged Bear away.

Tiger had put up an impressive fight, too, and was now sporting a few nice cuts and bruises to show for his efforts. Lion had pitched in and, when it looked unavoidable, I'd knocked a guy or two off balance to give the others more of a shot, and gotten a bruised shin and damaged pride for my troubles.

"They can't hurt us too badly," I said, trying to get Tiger to stop pacing. "He'll come back bruised up, nothing more."

"Oh, because you're such an expert," Tiger responded, running a hand through his hair.

"The SAS isn't going to be very effective if one of their entire bases is laid up with post-RTI injuries for two weeks at a time every rotation," I deadpanned, stretching out my legs and trying to get comfortable.

The logic of that statement seemed to calm Tiger somewhat, but he didn't stop pacing.

Lion clapped me on the shoulder and asked, "How you holding up, rookie?"

I almost smiled. If only they knew. "Fine. Bit peaky."

"We got the bloody comedian," Tiger said. "Outstanding."

At that moment, the Green Jackets thrust open the door and tossed Bear inside, shivering and dripping wet, a bit bruised up, but okay.

After the Green Jackets left, Tiger dropped to his knees beside Bear, hand on his shoulder. Lion sat up straighter, his face pinched in concern. "Henry?"

Henry. Was that Bear's real name?

"I'm g-good." Bear held up a shaking thumbs up, rolling over onto his back. "I'm just—gonna sleep a while. Yeah, I'll just t-t-take a nap."

Tiger dropped his head, exhaling in relief, and patted Bear's shoulder, dragging him over the wall and pillowing his head with his outer shirt. "Damn kid. Giving me a heart attack."

Lion lightly patted Bear's chest with a smile. "Rest up. They'll be back soon."

I looked away. It seemed like a moment I shouldn't have been there for, anyways.

They took Tiger and brought him back with similar results, but with a bit more bruising minus the sopping wet part. Then they took me.

I went willingly. If it was just an exercise, I didn't have much to worry about.

After all, after being drugged, unable to move on a conveyor belt taking me inch by inch towards a sugar cane crusher, a few punches and some cold water seemed to pale in comparison.

We walked across the camp a bit, my bare feet scraped and caked in mud, freezing cold by the time we got there. They threw me down as soon as we were inside, only to haul me back up and snap my wrists in handcuffs wound above a pole stretching parallel to the ceiling.

I wasn't particularly tall, so the position was more than uncomfortable, only the tips of my toes brushing the ground. My shoulders were already feeling the strain.

"What've we got here?" A familiar voice asked. I looked around the poorly lit room to see the leader from earlier, watching interestedly. "You look even younger in proper lighting. How old are you, kid?"

I smirked, lifting my chin. Resistance to interrogation meant no letting a single piece of information slip. "Old enough to realize what a shoddy trick that was."

One of the goons sent a fist into my stomach. It wasn't a love tap, for sure. It knocked the breath from my lungs, and I couldn't double over or catch my breath. I coughed, sucking in air as soon as my spasming lungs were able, heart clenching.

"You've got a mouth on you," the leader said, leaving his position to stand in front of me. "Your friends didn't talk, but I've got a feeling you'll do me the honor."

"Bite me," I said, spitting at his feet.

My heart was pounding, my head was light, and fear was coursing through me. But at least, in this situation, I had the comfort of knowing it wasn't real.

It's not real. It's not real. It's not real.

The man smirked. "Because you asked so nicely."

The man held out his hand, and then a goon plopped a taser into it.

Oh.

Oh shit.

"Wait," I said, eyeing the device. "This is RTI, right? I have a heart condition. It's in my file."

The man hesitated for a second, then smirked. "Good one, chief. Almost got me."

And with that, turned the thing on and shoved it into my ribs.

I'd been actually electrocuted before—which was a lot worse—but apparently, being tased sucked, too.

The electricity flowed from the spot on my stomach through my throbbing fingertips and pounding head, sparking life in my numb toes and burning every fiber of my body. I screamed through clenched teeth, my jaw locked from the current.

It couldn't have been more than a few seconds before he pulled it away, but that was enough to send my heart into panic mode.

It was beating out of control, weak and thready and all over the place, and I was starting to get a little nervous that it might actually lead to an arrythmia or something worse.

"Feel…my pulse," I managed, panting from the strain on my arms and trying to get my body to stop twitching, my head hanging low. "My heart…it isn't—"

"What's your name, kid?" He asked, unrelenting. He grabbed a fistful of my hair and yanked my head up. I grunted at the pressure, teeth clenched, and opened my eyes. His form was blurry, swimming in and out of focus. "Name, rank, and unit ID, and I'll let you walk."

I heaved a deep breath, realizing I wasn't going to get anywhere. "I'm serious. I'm…sensitive to…trauma and electricity…"

The man's eyebrows furrowed, and he dropped my head. "Somebody check the kid's file."

Someone responded and left the room, and I exhaled in relief. Surely they wouldn't—

A fist hit me square in the jaw, and my head snapped back. I fought to keep my balance on my toes, spitting a glob of blood and saliva to the side. "You're wasting…your time," I said, my teeth bared in a bloody grin.

Someone hustled back in, crinkling papers in hand. "It's true, Gray. Heart condition."

The leader—Gray—swore. "Fine, take him back. Bring the last one." Gray fixed his steely eyes on me and said, "This isn't over, kid. You have an hour to rest up, then I'm coming back for you."

They unhooked my wrists and dragged me away. I decided not to shout anything back, instead trying to keep my numb feet under me as they dragged me through the mud, my heart and chest throbbing with every step.

They unlocked the door and threw me inside, where I landed in a heap. It felt too nice to move right away.

"Keep an eye on him," one of the Green Jackets said, tone flat. "We didn't know he had a heart condition, and tasered him. He starts dying or anything, bang on the door."

And they left, taking Lion with them.

I closed my eyes and tried to breathe deeply, trying to slow the beating of my heart.

I was scared.

Punches, threats, beatings—I was fine. I could hold out. But my own body? Not being able to control my heart, or when it chose to beat or give out on me?

I was terrified.

My hands shook.

"Oi," Bear's voice floated over my head, and a hand came to rest on my shoulder. "Lay on your back, Jaguar, it'll be easier to breathe."

I did as he said—with a little help from him—and breathed as deeply as I could, trying to will my heartbeat to slow down. I heard him whisper something to Tiger, who scooted over, and then my head was being lifted and pillowed on something—a jacket? A shirt?

Did Tiger just give me his shirt for a pillow?

Good God, miracles did happen.

Bear's cold fingers found my neck and I flinched, but he pressed them against my jugular and waited. I felt my pulse thrumming frantically under his fingertips, and focused on breathing.

"You're alright, kid," Bear said, keeping his fingers in place. "It's alright. It's already evening out."

I gave a terse nod and swallowed, trying to open my eyes, but the headache pounding behind my head was too much.

"Sleep some, alright? That'll help."

Nodding again, I exhaled shakily.

It took a few minutes, but the terror fled, replaced with utter exhaustion, and I slept.

I couldn't have woken more than an hour or so later, because Lion was freshly back with some cuts and bruises—sopping wet like Bear—but otherwise okay.

My head was still pillowed on Tiger's shirt, and my breath clouded a bit when I breathed out, opening my bleary eyes.

"He lives," Bear joked, scooting over to my side. "How do you feel?"

"Alive," I responded tersely, grabbing at my left shoulder when I tried to sit up and it gave an uncomfortable pull. Bear put a steadying hand on my shoulder as I did so, waiting until I was steady. "Bit twitchy."

"Electrocution will do that, unfortunately," Lion said with a smile, though he was shivering up a storm, himself.

Glancing back, I carefully lifted the shirt, looking at it for a minute before handing it back to Tiger. I'd surprised him; he glanced at me from where he'd been staring at a spot on the wall, belatedly reaching for it.

"Thank you," I told him, as sincerely as I could.

He seemed startled that I was actually making eye contact with him for a purpose other than to insult him, but he took the shirt with a nod, slipping it back on.

"Look at them, getting along," Lion said with a teasing tone, a grin on his face.

Bear gave a little laugh, saying, "It's okay, Jaguar. Tiger's actually just a ball of fluff when you get to know him."

Tiger's eyebrow twitched. "I'll hit you, Bear. Don't think I won't."

I was unable to keep a little smile off my face. I opened my mouth to respond—

-and the door caved in, right on time.

Ten or so Green Jackets flooded the room, seizing each of us before we could react. If I'd been at full strength there wouldn't have been a problem, but my chest was still throbbing.

"String up the little one," I recognized the voice of the leader—Gray—before he came into the room. "Let's see how much your new unit really values you, kiddo."

I almost spat something along the lines of not very much, so you're wasting your time, but that seemed pretty rude considering the almost genuine moment of camaraderie we'd just shared.

I didn't fight as they again shackled my hands above my head, the pull on my left shoulder agonizing. I tried to wipe my face clear of emotions, but I knew they could tell I was in pain.

"Oi, don't you think this is a little dirty?" Lion asked with a smirk, but I could see the worry in his eyes. "In a fair fight—"

He was cut off by a brutal hit to his midsection, coughing and sagging in his captor's grip for a second. Tiger growled and jerked at the hands holding him, as did Bear, but it had little effect. With as beaten and battered as we all were, they weren't going anywhere anytime soon.

Gray turned back to me, and I did my best to left my chin with the strain on my upper body. "Gonna zap me again?"

Gray quirked a smile. "No. Too much bloody paperwork if you bite it. There are other ways I can get my information."

He punctuated the sentiment with a fist to my mouth, snapping my head back. My brain rattled in my skull, and I could feel my earlier split lip reopening, blood running down my chin, staining my teeth.

"Names, ranks, unit ID, and any other valuable information you can think of, and this stops," Gray said, turning to the other three. "Otherwise I keep beating on the kid."

My eyes narrowed, and I spat to the side. It was a good psychological tactic—I was the youngest of the group, and generally, the youngest members of any community were the most protected. It was a natural law, even among animals.

I smiled wryly at that.

"Cut his shirt off. I want them to see every hit the kid takes, understood?"

Wait.

No. They couldn't—they could not see—

Someone came at me with a switchblade, eyes determined. "You behave and I won't cut anywhere I'm not supposed to, okay, kid?"

Needless to say, once he was within range, I leveraged my battered body up as far as I could and kicked him straight in the chest.

He collapsed back, the wind knocked out of him, and the switchblade went skittering across the ground.

"For hell's sake," Gray muttered, marching over to me. I tried to the trick, this time laced with desperation, but his just caught my ankle and pushed my leg back down. He was too close for my kicks to do any damage. "I'll do it my bloody self."

"No, don't," I yelled, caving into the fear squirming in the put of my stomach. "Don't—"

I was in a cotton t-shirt that I had only to sleep in. It wasn't meant for durability or strength, just sleeping. So when Gray wrapped his fist around the collar and tore it straight off, there was no resistance.

The entire cabin went eerily silent, only my heaving breaths audible.

I felt the humiliation take hold, my neck and face and ears turning red as I grit my teeth and stared at the floor, absolutely unwilling to let this maniac see me cry, though it's all I wanted to do.

Nobody—nobody—was supposed to see…this.

"Jaguar?" Bear's voice, hesitant and dare I say gentle.

I didn't want his bloody pity.

"Well," Gray said, eyes raking up and down my prone body slowly enough to make me shiver, "looks like someone worked you over real good, kid. How are you alive?"

I didn't respond.

My head was pounding with embarrassment, anger and hatred simmering beneath it. Gray turned from me and started talking-threatening, taunting, I don't know-but this was the most humiliated and ashamed I had felt in a long time, and it was taking its toll.

Hell was going to have to freeze over before I took this lying down.

"Hey," I muttered when he kept blabbering at the rest of my unit. "Gray, right? That's your name?"

Gray turned halfway back to me, eyes dark. "What about it, half-pint?"

"Come here and I'll tell you what you want."

I saw a lot of eyes widen, namely those of my unit-mates. "Jaguar, do not compromise this mission," Lion said, his voice even and firm. He earned another gut punch for his troubles.

I didn't look at him, though. I just kept my eyes on Gray, going for sincere. Resigned. Defeated. "Please. I promise."

Gray took a few steps forward, just a couple feet from me. "Well?"

"Closer," I said, giving a furtive glance towards my unit. "I don't want them to hear what I'm going to tell you."

Gray raised an eyebrow, but leaned in closer, turning his head so his ear was only a couple inches from my face. "Hey," I said again, and wondering what I wanted, he turned his face just slightly towards me.

As soon as he did so, I snapped my head forward in a vicious headbutt that had me seeing stars.

I heard the shouts of alarm and surprise from the other occupants in the room, but my head was still clearing from the dizzying escapade. I saw Gray's blurry outline; he was clutching his nose for all he was worth, and one side of his face as already darkening red.

"My message," I said, spitting to the side again, "is for you book yourself a one-way ticket to hell."

Gray's eyes narrowed comically above his hand, which covered half of his face. Blood leaked between his fingers, staining his pristine green jacket.

Bear laughed. "I think I'm starting to like you, Jaguar."

Somebody smacked him for that, but his words sent a flutter of warmth through my shivering body.

It didn't last long.

"I might actually kill you for that," Gray said quietly, flicking his hand to the side, droplets of blood staining the wall beside him. "You, or one of you unit mates. How would that feel, Jaguar? Would you like to watch that, you little bastard?"

"No," I admitted, steeling myself as he ambled closer to me, my vision finally clearing. "But I'll watch it happen to you, arsehole."

In the commotion, when no one's eyes were on me, I'd worked the loose nail I'd found sticking out of one of the doors out of my grip and into one of the handcuffs. Finally, now that he was close enough to attack, I twisted it, one shackle coming loose. I dropped to the floor in a crouch and rolled away, my shoulders aching in protest.

I tossed the bloody nail aside and looked at the handcuffs dangling from my wrist, grinning up at Gray's mortified expression. "If you tell me to resist interrogation," I said, standing and lowering myself into a defensive crouch, "then bloody hell, I'm going to resist. You understand?"

"Get him," Gray growled, and the unoccupied Green Jackets charged at me. Through the tangle of limbs and bodies headed my way, I got a glimpse of my unit mates fighting back, as well. I had just enough time to see Tiger shake one off enough to clock him with a sucker punch before I was lost in my own fight, but I was glad they'd gotten the message.

I had been held and tortured for information far too many times to think that waiting it out was a good idea.

I heard someone yell about getting the Sergeant, but I was too locked in my own fight to care much. Three of them were coming at me, a chaotic tussle of hands and feet and vicious jabs and hits. I took more than I gave, regrettably, but I gave enough to keep them back.

Someone finally caught me on the left side, just above my heart, and the pain was blinding.

I went down with a cry, my hands instinctively going to my chest, and curled in on myself to protect what I could from the kicks that followed. I heard my name shouted—well, Jaguar, anyways—but the pain was too blinding to do much of anything about it.

Suddenly, the kicks stopped.

A booming voice, one that reverberated through entire little shack, shouted, "What the devil is going on here?"

Gasping in one breath after the other, trying to maintain consciousness, I almost missed the hands that grabbed my shoulders and hauled me to my knees. The support vanished and I collapsed back on my heels, steadying myself with my hands on the ground.

The Sergeant stood in the doorway, and even in his sleepwear, he looked like a General straight out of a warzone.

"This one," Gray spat, punctuating the statement by fisting a hand in my hair and yanking my head up, "decided he would be a cheeky little shit and fight back, and now half my guys are going to the infirmary straight after they leave here."

The passing look of confusion, the look of understanding, and the absolute face of rage that finally settled on the Sergeant's face was downright comical.

"Lieutenant Gray," he growled, his beefy arms folded across his chest as he stalked right up to the man, dwarfing him by the sheer look of anger on his face, "are you telling me that you had one of your men run to my barracks screaming like the base was being bloody mutilated—to tell me that you and your men couldn't handle the retaliation of one kid—WHO'S BARELY LEGAL TO DRINK?!"

Throughout the tirade, Gray's face had slowly lost its color, and he was looking a bit—well, gray. "S-sir, I—"

"Get out of here," the Sergeant said, pointing at the door. "You ever pull a stunt like that again, you're officially relieved of service for the British Special Air Service Forces. Do I make myself perfectly clear, soldier?"

"Y-yes, sir," Gray stuttered, the once impressive man reduced to a shaking mess as he and his men ran out with their proverbial tails between their legs. More then a few of them were limping and stumbling under their own weight, and I couldn't help but feel a bit of vindictive pride.

I dropped my head, heaving in a breath as my ribs creaked under my own weight, shutting my eyes against the dizzying light.

"Men. Explain, now."

There was a beat of silence, before Lion stood—painfully, from the sounds of it—and said, "Yes, sir. We were participating in the scheduled RTI session, sir, and—"

"It was…my fault," I heaved, taking a stuttering breath before wobbling to my feet, swaying a bit before steadying. Bear was slouched against the wall, but despite the slump of his frame, his eyes were bright. Tiger wasn't much better, but his posture was energized, coiled tight in expectance of another hit. Lion hadn't fared too well, either, but the reluctant acceptance I thought he'd show was replaced instead by…wait, was that pride?

I attributed it to a trick of the light and the nauseating swaying of my vision.

"You see, sir," I said, lifting my chin and staring the Sergeant in the eye, "when I was told that this was RTI, I took it to mean an exercise in resisting interrogation that was meant to simulate an experience we might have as prisoners of war." Taking a steadying breath, stumbling a bit, I said, "In that situation, I wouldn't have waited for the exercise to be over. I would have waited for an opening, and escaped."

"You call this escaping? You all look like you were three rounds with a heavyweight champ."

I quirked a smile, but a violent shiver reminded me of just how exposed I was, and I couldn't help but look down, mortified by my scars, the bumps and ridges that covered every inch of my torso. "With all due respect, sir, the opposition didn't leave unscathed."

The Sergeant raised an eyebrow, but sighed nonetheless. "I suppose that's true." Then, surprisingly enough, he smiled. "You're the first unit to every really fight back like this. Color me impressed, gentlemen. Gray's a piece of work, no doubt, but I've never seen him quite this riled up." He smiled a little, looking back at Lion and the others. "Take tomorrow off."

I couldn't quite help the way my eyes widened in surprise. "Sir?"

"You out-performed every other unit in the exercise. Even now, most of them are probably letting themselves be beaten senseless, waiting it out. But like you said, real life isn't going to be like that. You're going to have to make your own escape." He looked me up and down, his eyes settling on my chest, and I crossed my arms pointedly. With the practice of only a trained soldier, he hid his surprise and continued talking. "It doesn't look like it worked out so well this time, but I get the feeling you'll improve. What happened there, Jaguar?"

The question was slipped so seamlessly into the conversation that I barely noticed it. I kept eye contact with him only because I couldn't bear myself to look towards my unit mates. "Nothing from tonight, sir."

The Sergeant heard the finality in my voice and gave up, nodding. "Get some rest, men. Day after tomorrow, I expect you back to training."

Tiger heaved Bear off the floor, supporting him with an arm around his waist, and the two of them limped out of the shack after a nod in the Sergeant's direction. Lion followed, his eyes lingering on me a moment. I nodded at him to let him know I'd be coming.

I scooped the remains of my shirt off the ground and shrugged it on, pulling it closed in the front in a shabby attempt to cover the scars everyone had already bloody seen.

"Jaguar."

The Sergeant's rumbling voice stopped me in the doorway, and I gave half a glance back.

"Those are some war wounds, boy."

I didn't know how to respond, so I fell back on the simple safety of a, "Yes, sir."

"You have a unit for a reason," I twitched at his words, lowering my eyes. "and it's not to stand there and look pretty. You can rely on them."

I didn't respond for a second. "Will that be all, sir?"

"How's your kill-shot coming along?"

I turned fully, then, trying to wipe the questioning expression from my face. "It's…better, sir. I'm making progress."

The Sergeant nodded thoughtfully, stooping to the ground and picking something up, rolling it between his fingers. "You're promising, Jaguar. You have talent and intellect that a lot of men don't have at the end of their tours." He tossed the object at me, and I caught it clumsily.

It was the bloodied nail I'd used to pick the lock on my handcuff.

"You're resourceful, too. I'll give you that. But if you keep trying to go it alone, one or more of you is going to come home in a body bag. You understand me?"

I flinched. "Sir, I—"

"Dismissed, Jaguar."

Hesitantly, I nodded, and left.

I opened the cabin door, stepped inside, and walked directly to my bed, collapsing into the sheets. I rolled away from them, massaging my left shoulder and cataloging every ache and pain in my body, deeming them all superficial enough to leave until morning.

I felt three pairs of eyes follow my every step, and said, "I'm not answering any questions. I'm going to sleep." I pulled the blanket up to my shoulders, relishing in the absolute comfort of knowing they couldn't see the scars anymore.

There was silence for a moment, and then the light was turned out. "We'll ask tomorrow, then." Lion's voice.

I didn't answer.

You have a unit for a reason, and it's not to stand there and look pretty.

You can rely on them.

Closing my eyes, drifting to sleep, I thought about it. A folded up shirt from Tiger—the pride in Lion's eyes when I fought back and stood up to Gray and the Sergeant—

I think I'm starting to like you, Jaguar. Courtesy of Bear.

Even amidst the shivering and the shaking that had little to do with the cold or the pain, I managed a smile.

I thought maybe I was starting to like them, too.

However dangerous it was.

A/N: Well it took a lot of hurt, but I hit the comfort (ish) eventually! Next chapter is when the healing really starts, but we got a teaser, at least.

Also, I am SO sorry for the excessive wait; I've been trying to focus on my Avengers fics. But I'm super happy with the way this one is turning out!

Again, thank you to my beautiful reviewers: jawswing96, Gerdiena, Em0Wolf, pletchko, VINAI, Guest, 627-OrganizedChaos, CuteFishy, and oldminnie! And to everyone following and who's favorited, thanks so much for your support!

Guest: No he didn't…that wouldn't have been good XD and lol it's L-Unit but same difference

Thanks for reading! Please let me know what you think!