Well, the day was finally here. Active duty.

I shouldn't have been so nervous. I lived in active duty.

"Ready, rookie?" Lion asked, tousling my hair before I could stop him. Bloody hated it when he did that, and he knew it.

I glared in his direction. "Sure. No big deal."

"See? Told you he'd be fine. Tiger, you owe me twenty."

Tiger rolled his eyes, and I smirked. "What, still no faith in me?"

"I don't care how many bloody headshots you shoot, and I don't care how many dumbass lieutenants you spook, and I don't care that you're officially in the unit. Until I see you in action, I'm not buying a thing."

I huffed a laugh. "Fair enough."

"Oi," the Sergeant called from the front of the cabin with the briefing rooms. "Quit lollygagging, damn gossiping teenagers. Get in here."

We sped up. An angry Sergeant Callaway wasn't someone to mess with.

The briefing room was a step up from the other cabins, with oak paneling and a sophisticated smartboard, real chairs instead of folding chairs and a mahogany table in the center. We sat in the offered chairs behind the table, Sergeant Callaway in front of the projection. Another man stood towards the corner, holding a briefcase and waiting expectantly.

"Alright, men," the Sergeant said, flicking his eyes to me, "and boy."

Tiger coughed, but it sounded like he hid a snort. I fought to keep from rolling my eyes.

"I'm giving you something simple for your first mission to test the waters as a new unit," he said, suddenly all business. "You'll be transporting a package to testify against a terrorist we've captured. You'll be transporting him from Paris to Kiev. The drive time is about twenty-four hours; you'll stop in Warsaw for the night with the package. It's fifteen hours from Paris to Warsaw, so you'll drive in shifts. Lion, you're on point. Tiger, you'll be negotiating with the locals, should the need arise, but I'd like you to keep that to a minimum. Bear, visit the medical barracks after this; they're putting a kit together for you. Jaguar, visit the armory for the unit's weapons.

"You'll be provided a standard military Jeep with the usual bells and whistles; Jaguar, the others will fill you in. Now, the package."

Displayed on the screen flickered to life the image of a man grinning at the camera, in a striped jumpsuit with an identification number in his hands. He reminded me of a shark, the way his teeth were bared. His eyes were dark and small, and the look of him made me altogether uncomfortable. It felt like I'd seen him somewhere before.

But that was Alex. Matthew wouldn't be creeped out by a picture, so I couldn't let it show.

Besides, it would just give the others more fuel to treat me like a kid.

"Frederick 'Slasher' Hollis is a piece of work, and that's putting it lightly. Spent a number of years as a mercenary with multiple groups, and has dappled in undercover work for multiple terrorist organizations. The crimes against him are endless. Terrorism, domestic and otherwise, murder, rape, theft…you name it, he's done it. He's made a deal with the higher ups to exchange information on the organizations he's worked with to escape the death penalty and get a couple extra benefits in prison. You're to escort him safely to Kiev, where you'll hand him off to Ukrainian ambassadors to be held there until the trial is arranged."

I cast a slight glance to the others, gauging their reactions. Bear seemed on edge, fidgeting in his seat, while Tiger was the exact opposite, stock still and intent on the information on the screen. Lion's hand was against his chest, and it took me a moment to figure out he was fiddling with a cross hanging around his neck. I'd seen it before, but never given it much thought.

The Sergeant started talking again, and I refocused on the board.

"This is your route," he said, an image of Europe popping up on the screen with a thick red line weaving across the land. "There are marked places to stop for gas and food, and the inn you'll be staying it is there as well. You will not stop anywhere else for any reason short of a global catastrophe. Are we clear?"

A chorus of "Yes, sir"s filled the room. The Sergeant nodded, satisfied.

"Good. Now Agent Jackson will fill you in on what you'll be up against."

The word "Agent" caught my attention and I slouched down in my seat as much as possible without being noticeable, angling my face in a way that I could mostly stay in the shadows. God, if he recognized me here…

I couldn't even listen to most of what he said. My heart was thumping erratically in my chest, and I had to sit on my hands for the rest of the briefing to convince myself they weren't shaking.

Agent Jackson, though, didn't seem to know me, or if he did, he didn't show it. He went through a list of enemies seeking to capture or assassinate the target and their level of danger, pointing out spots along our route we'd need to be especially cautious on.

When the meeting was over and the agent stepped out, I felt as though I could finally breathe.

"Dismissed," the Sergeant said. "You have an hour to pack and be at the gate. It's an undercover operation, so pack plainclothes and necessities. Nothing more than a rucksack for each of you. Jaguar, stay a moment."

The panic was back.

"Yes, sir?" I said as soon as the others had left the room. There was a waver in my voice.

"How are you feeling about this?" He asked, shuffling papers on the table before giving me a glance.

My confusion must have shown on my face. "Fine, sir. Bit nervous, but I reckon that's normal, sir."

He nodded, an odd expression on his face. "How are you doing with your unit?"

I hesitated. "Alright, sir. We…get on fine."

He sighed. "That's convincing."

I assumed it was sarcasm, but his unchanging expression made it a bit hard to be certain.

"Well, good luck to you. You've got good men watching your back, but I want you especially to be careful."

Oh, God. Did he know something? Had he found some inconsistency in my file, did something tip him off…what if he made me leave? Was he watching—

"This guy, Hollis…he's sadistic. He's very dangerous, and very skilled, and for him, the younger the better." He looked up, his eyes serious. "You understand what I'm saying? He may say things that…unnerve you, or get under your skin. You can't let it get to you."

Oh. So it…it wasn't anything about…

Oh, thank God.

I tried to hide my relief. What he said unnerved me, yeah, but that was buried beneath the relief of knowing I hadn't been discovered. "Um…th-thank you for the warning, sir. I'll be on my guard around him. Is…there anything else?"

"No. Just be careful. Make sure everyone gets back safely."

"Yes, sir." That I could agree with.

I felt the Sergeant's eyes lingering on me as I left, but I decided to pay it no mind.

There was no way he knew. I'd checked the fake file myself, twice and three times…it was foolproof.

I was okay.

It was enough to calm my racing heart, for a moment.

We took a ferry from Hastings to Boulogne-san-Mer, where we continued inland by railway. The ride was silent for the most part, though Bear and Lion played a rowdy game of poker, at one point. Tiger read a book, casting a tepid glare at Bear and Lion when they got too loud for him.

For my part, I leaned against the window, resting my chin on my hand and watching the countryside roll by. It reminded me of a holiday I'd taken with Ian and Jack once.

"Alex!" Jack called as I crested one of the many rolling green hills, admiring the stretch of serene landscape in front of me. "Alex, don't wander off like that. I can't keep up with you, and you know it."

At twelve, I was still oblivious to the realities behind Ian's jobs, but I knew he was away often enough that a holiday like this…with him, and Jack and me, just the three of us, was rare. Ian came up behind Jack, smiling at me, and I beamed at him.

It was so nice to spend time together. I'd missed him.

"What do you think, Al?" He asked, tousling my hair when he reached me, dropping his arm around my shoulders. "What do you want for dinner tonight? There's a little authentic place a bit of a drive away. Jack, sound good?"

I wrinkled my nose, looking up at him. At twelve, I was a little short for my age, and he looked so big. So…invincible. "You're not going to make me try duck again, are you?"

He laughed, then, and squeezed my shoulder. He was always so serious and severe…times like this, when he was carefree and affectionate, I felt like I really had…a father. No, a…a dad, in him, despite everything. "If you really hated it that much…"

"It was awful," I complained, tugging on Jack's hand. "What do you want, Jack?"

She pretended to think, her eyes twinkling. "I dunno…Ian, maybe he'd take more to quail than duck."

Ian barked a laugh, his shoulders relaxed. "I think you might be onto something, Jack."

They smiled at me, and I said something about how I was pretty sure that would be just as bad, and they laughed again. We ended up eating something with rice and beef, some local dish, and I was content with that. After that we got ice cream and toured the streets, where Ian made me practice my French with the locals. I stumbled over some pronunciations, blushing furiously, but he nudged me each time and encouraged me to try again.

When we were picking up a couple things, Jack tried to ask one of the bazaar workers where she could find avocados, and the man thought she was asking for a lawyer, and promptly told her to beat it.

It was a good trip.

It was a bitter memory.

"Jaguar!"

I started at my name, turning to face Lion, who had his hand on my shoulder. His eyes were concerned, and Tiger and Bear were staring, too. "You alright, mate? You've been zoned out for ages."

"Yeah, sorry," I said, recovering quickly. "I've been around this area before, I was just looking for something familiar."

"Really?" Bear asked, looking out the window. "It seems nice. Come out on holiday?"

This was stretching into dangerous territory. Even if it was the smallest thing, revealing anything about my past, real or fake, felt just a bit too much like tempting fate. "I suppose, yeah."

"Who'd you come with?" Lion asked, shuffling the cards in front of him. "Parents, or…?"

"Just family," I said, hoping by remaining vague they'd drop it. My heart was pounding again. "Actually, I need to use the loo."

Before anyone could protest, I scooted by Lion, heading towards the back of the railway car. It was about a four hour journey, and it wasn't a popular line. There were only two other passengers in our car, a man and a woman. The woman had a bundle in her arms, and was cooing softly to it; it was silent, so I assumed it was a sleeping baby.

I headed into the loo and stood there for a moment, my back against the door.

To be honest, the Sergeant's words had unnerved me more than I cared to admit. I hadn't told the others about it. I figured if the Sergeant had wanted them to know, he'd have told them, as well; though I reckoned it was more for my benefit, than anything. I'll admit, I'd be a little embarrassed if the others knew.

I splashed some water on my face to wake myself up, trying to push the thoughts from my mind. Something felt off. I'd been doing this long enough to know to trust my gut, but I just couldn't tell what was wrong.

It was something I'd seen. Something was nagging me, and I knew I'd seen it. So what…?

I opened the door and was making my way back to my seat when I realized it. Well, belatedly so.

It was the couple. What kind of couple with a newborn on a four-hour journey didn't have any luggage?

As soon as I saw them again, and as soon as I came to that realization, they attacked.

I assume they'd been waiting for one of us to move, to single one of us out and catch the others by surprise. The woman, in one fluid motion, tossed the bundle aside (no wonder the baby had been so silent, it was just bundle of cloth) and lunged herself at me expertly, while the man whipped out a pistol and turned it on the others.

I couldn't rely on them to react quickly enough; they were at least three rows down. By the time they saw the gun, one of them would have a bullet in their heads.

I ducked the woman's roundhouse kick and vaulted myself towards the man, kicking the gun out of his grip, sending it sliding down the wooden floor. He growled and sent a fist my way. I barely dodged to the side, and narrowly missed the knife the woman thrust at me from behind, feeling it slice through my windbreak and leave a line of blood on my bicep.

The others had since noticed the commotion and had leapt out of their seats, coming to join the fight.

We outnumbered them two-to-one, and they knew it. They knew to have a shot against those three, they had to finish quickly with me.

Well, turns out I felt the same. Scooping up the discarded bundle in a somersault, I grabbed a single cloth and righted myself, my back to my approaching teammates. When the man next threw a fist at me (direct and deadly; these people were very well-trained) I dodged and wrapped the cloth tightly around his wrist, using it to twist the arm behind his back. I was strong, but I was small, and he probably had one hundred pounds on me, so I needed the extra support.

He reached for me with his other hand, but the angle was too awkward for him to grab anything. I spun him in front of me as a shield just as the woman threw her knife with pinpoint accuracy; it hit the man in his shoulder, which would've been my bloody head.

He howled in pain and I shoved him forward into the woman, who looked a bit startled after hitting her own partner, using her surprise to catch her off guard. She tossed the man out of her way, but by the time she did that, I was already running at her. She anticipated it and aimed a deadly kick at my head, but I dropped into a football slide I'd used as a forward more times than I could count, plucking the knife from the injured man's shoulder and slicing her Achilles tendon in one swift motion. She collapsed with a howl of pain, clutching at the injured appendage.

The man had recovered enough to fumble for the gun, and sent a shot off that whizzed wide, just by my ear. Knowing that if I took the time to stand and approach him I'd be well and truly screwed, I turned my body and pushed off the bench, sliding across the wood towards him, pressing a hand into his wound as I wrestled the gun from him.

He screamed in pain, and I managed to tear the gun from his bloody fingers, slamming it into his temple. He went limp and still in just a second.

Panting, and shaking, I got to my knees, momentarily mesmerized by the blood on my hands. The woman was still groaning behind me, spitting curses, and I dimly registered Tiger walking past me and knocking her out. I came to myself in a jolt, standing unsteadily.

"We need to go," I said quickly, brushing past a stunned Bear and grabbing my bag from the overhead compartment, throwing the others at their respective owners. "There will be more. We're sitting ducks here, and civilians may get involved if any more of them show up."

"Wait, Jaguar—slow down, dammit!" Lion yelled, shouldering his bag despite his words. "Calm down for a second. How do you know there's more?"

"There's always more," I said impatiently, grabbing the gun the agent had used and wiping it down before tossing it out the window. It had my prints on it, and I didn't want someone to find it in the car and conduct an investigation thinking we'd attacked the place, then have our faces all over the news while we tried to conduct an undercover operation.

"How long util we reach the next station?" I asked breathlessly, tossing a ziptie to Tiger, who fumbled to catch it. "Tie her up."

"Two or three minutes?" Lion answered uncertainly, watching with wary eyes. "Our stop isn't for half an hour—"

"We're getting off here," I said, zip tying the man's arms behind his back. "Somebody help me? We need to store them in the bathroom. They won't be discovered until someone from the French intelligence agency can come to collect them. Dammit, we'll need to clean up the blood—"

"Jaguar, you're not making sense—" Lion said, grabbing my shoulder.

I realized I was panicking. It was sudden realization, and it forced me to take stock of the situation. The others were staring at me like I'd grown another head, regarding with suspicion and concern. I was shaky, and unsteady, and I realized it was because this was the first time I'd been in a fight—a real fight, with guns and knives and the probability of death—in several months. Though the surge of adrenaline was familiar, and horrifyingly comforting, I wasn't used to it anymore.

Damn it all.

"I'm sorry," I said quickly, pausing in my actions for just a moment. "I'm sorry, I know I'm not making any sense. I know you're point on this mission, and I respect that, I really do. Just—just listen to me, just for a while, alright? I—I know what I'm doing. Work with me." I took in a breath, keeping my eyes on the growing bloodstain beneath the man. "Please."

There was a pregnant pause, with only the unconscious man's moans and grinding of the wheels along the track. I busied myself trying to wipe the blood off my hands on my undershirt, but it was just spreading.

"Alright," Lion said, his expression betraying nothing. "Alright, we'll follow you for now. But in return, we expect an explanation. Is that fair?"

I flinched a little, avoiding his eyes. "It can't be…full."

Lion sighed. "We'll take what we can get. What do you need?"

I pushed my worries and anxieties to the farthest corner of my mind, letting my mind go into hyper-awareness as I surveyed the damage. The blood was still fresh, and there wasn't much of it. The man was lying on his back, and the knife wound hadn't gone through him, so it was only a small pool of blood.

"Bear, lock both the doors at the end of the car," I said, eyes flitting around to every inch of the car, looking for things I could use. "Tiger, Lion, make sure they're secure and gag them, then shove them in the loo." I pulled out a shirt I didn't particularly like from my rucksack and cut it in two with the knife, handing a strip to each of them. "Use those to bind the wounds as best you can. We'll get in touch with the DRM as soon as we can; they should be fine until they get medical treatment."

I pulled another shirt (which, unfortunately, I did like) out of my bad and mopped up the blood as best I could. There was little enough that I managed to get most of it up; the rest looked like someone had spilled something, and it had stained. Only a UV light or a trained eye would reveal it as a bloodstain.

Not a moment too soon, the train screeched to halt in the station, a pleasant French voice announcing our arrival at Argenteuil. Hastily zipping my windbreak and shoving my hands in my pockets to hide the blood, I nodded to the others to disembark, and hastily stepped off the train into the bustling station.

My eyes quickly scanned the platform, but I didn't see anything readily suspicious. I walked as quickly as I could without being suspicious towards the exit, immediately hailing a taxi. Ian and Jack and I had stopped in this town briefly, and I remembered a safe little inn that was mostly off the map and off the books where we could regroup.

"Excusez-moi," I asked the taxi driver as the four of us piled into the backseat. It had dual-facing benches, so we could all fit, though it was a bit of a squeeze with Bear's height. "Combien est le tarif à l'Hôtel Luna?" (Excuse me. How much is the fare to the Luna Hotel?)

The driver looked in his rearview mirror, his surprise evident. "Euh…une trentaine d'euros? Ton francaise est tres bien. Est-ce que tu es en vacation?" (Uh…about thirty Euros? Your French is very good. Are you on vacation?)

"Oui," I lied with a smile. "Merci beaucoup." (Yes. Thank you very much.)

He nodded and smiled, pulling out into traffic and rolling up the divider to give us some privacy. I slumped back against the seat, feeling my adrenaline crash. My arm ached, and I winced, putting a hand over the wound.

"Oi," Bear said, concerned eyes narrowing in my direction. "Are you hurt?"

I figured it would be futile at this point to lie. "She snagged me with the knife. It's not deep."

Conveniently (for him) he was sitting next to me and took my arm carefully, prying my hand away. "Can you take off your windbreaker?"

"Bear, leave it," I said, shrugging him off as politely as I could manage. "You can look when we get to the hotel. I'd like to be somewhere safe before we worry about that. It's not bad."

Although clearly unhappy, he let me be.

It was a tense taxi ride.

We checked into a room for the night on the fifth floor. I liked this place. We'd stayed here for one night, Jack and Ian and I, and it was shady in some ways, but cozy and personal in others. I wondered for the longest time why Ian had let us stay there, because despite its charming personality, the place was addicting to prostitutes and drug dealers, who did a lot of underground business in the attached nightclubs.

In hindsight, dealing with terrorists and undercover spies as much as he did, there was probably nothing to worry about for him.

"Lion," I said as we keyed into our room. "Can you call the Sergeant, or whoever the contact is? Tell him we can still do the mission, but he or the DRM may want to send another unit. I don't think the threat assessment ruled the mission as dangerous as it actually is."

I tossed my rucksack beside the bed nearest the door and shrugged out of my windbreaker, hissing in pain as the wound on my arm pulled. I was sore, and exhausted, but I knew sleep would be elusive, at best.

Lion had used his burner to call the DRM liaison on the way and inform them of the assassins on the train, and they'd been swiftly taken into custody within the hour. I was fairly confident no one had followed us to the hotel, so just for a moment, I let myself relax, if only a fraction.

Bear and Tiger slipped wordlessly into the room, and was right there as soon as the door closed, engaging the deadlock and the other lock above that, letting myself breathe. It was odd; I didn't think I'd ever gone so long without Tiger or Bear saying something, but they seemed to be going with it. That was good. That was easier than the alternative.

"Sit," Bear ordered suddenly, pointing to a chair with angry eyes. "You've been bleeding for forty minutes. Don't think I didn't see. So help me, I will drug your arse if you don't let me look at you."

Despite the situation, I managed a humorless chuckle, sinking into the seat and rolling up the bloody sleeve of my t-shirt, exposing the jagged slash. I was startled at the sight of it. Damn, it was worse than I thought.

Tiger looked over, eyes pinched. "Not bad, my arse," he muttered.

"I…didn't think it was that bad," I said honestly as Bear grabbed the medical kit from his rucksack, opening it and sterilizing his hands.

"Well, you know, that's normally why you have the Medic take a look, moron," he griped. Tiger was right; Bear was neurotic when it came to injuries.

While Bear prepared to disinfect the wound, a small flask appeared in front of my face. I looked up to see Tiger waiting expectantly. "That shit's gonna sting like hell," he said, waving the flask for emphasis. "Best numb yourself a bit while you can."

"You know I'm underage," I said with a small smirk, grabbing the bottle and taking a long drag.

He raised an eyebrow. "Anything you want to tell us?"

I faltered, my heart leaping, but recovered quickly, putting it to my lips. "Sorry. American habit."

Tiger bought it.

The whiskey burned going down, and I pulled a face as I swallowed, handing the flask back to him. "That's strong."

"That's the idea," he said, screwing the cap back on and throwing it on the bed. He was right; it warmed my stomach and I felt my tense muscles relax slightly.

Without warning, Bear pressed a wet cloth to the wound, and Tiger was right. It stung like the damn fires from hell.

I gripped the armrest to keep from making any noise, my face pinching at the pain, and I stared at a piece of abstract art on the wall that bloody belonged in a child's art portfolio.

"Almost…there we go," Bear said quietly, peeling the bloody cloth away, fresh blood running down my arm. "I think you can get away with four or five stitches. Want some painkillers?"

"Think the whiskey did the trick," I muttered through grit teeth. "Just do it."

Bear nodded, his eyes far away. "Jaguar, you want to tell me why I'm looking at another bullet scar?"

Caught off guard, I peered at my arm. Oh. I'd forgotten about that one. "No."

The word was clipped, and there was no room for argument.

Bear sighed, and Tiger's eyes were angry. "How many times have you been shot, kid?"

I looked away, not quite able to face them. "…three."

The fact that I was willing to volunteer that information without so much as a word of protest made me realize I shouldn't have drunk so much whiskey. I quickly decided to keep my mouth shut for the rest of the night.

Tiger swore under his breath. "Damn pincushion, you are," he muttered.

Bear didn't say anything. I was grateful.

Bear was good at his job. He did the stitches quickly, neatly, and tightly, closing the wound completely. He taped some gauze over it and then bound the wound tightly to stop any leftover bleeding.

"All set," he said with a disarming smile. That wasn't right. We weren't close enough for him to smile at me like that. "Sorry I don't have a sticker to give you."

I scoffed. "And you call yourself a medic."

Lion had come back in a minute ago, setting the phone on the nightstand and sitting on one of the beds. "Sergeant Callaway is working with the DRM to secure an extra escort for the transport tomorrow. They've added this place into our plans, and are going to send a car to bring us straight to the meetup in Paris around noon. We should get some rest soon; we'll take turns on watch."

Tiger nodded, and Bear grabbed his toiletries from his bag, claiming the bathroom. Lion shot me a look and said, "You alright?"

I gave a tense smile, holding up my newly bandaged arm. "Fit as a fiddle."

He scoffed, smiling a bit. "Sure. I know you're tired, but…want to tell us what happened today?"

I sighed, looking away. I'd been waiting for that. "I don't know what you're asking. What do you want me to say?"

"How about…why, when you're nineteen and this is your first mission, do you fight and act like some intelligence veterans I've seen?"

I flinched. I don't know if they saw. "I don't know what you want from me. I've told you I can't…I can't explain things. It's not the answer you want, but it's the only one I can give. I'm not going to apologize for it."

I thought Tiger would start yelling at me. I thought Bear would remain silent with a worried look and unsteady hands. I thought Lion would look disappointed. That's what always happened when I refused to volunteer information.

"Okay," Lion said, his voice patient. It threw me off. They should be yelling at me. They should be cursing me and asking why I didn't want to share things. "I'm sorry. We've been asking nothing but big questions, because you seem intent on hiding everything, and…well, you can't blame us, mate. You're mysterious. We'd like to know."

I eyed him warily, absently rubbing my arm. It ached. "But…"

"But you can learn to trust people gradually," Tiger finished, crossing his arms. "I don't like it. I'm not patient enough for it. But it looks like you've got a shit-ton of baggage, so I'm make an exception."

This was unsettling. I didn't like it at all. It felt like…I was being tricked into something. Like they were trying to trick me into giving something away.

Lion looked earnest, leaning forward and maintaining eye contact. Tiger was more closed off, but he was listening attentively. Despite the sounds of Bear brushing his teeth, the bathroom door was ajar, and I knew he was listening.

"Don't play me for a fool," I snapped, the panic getting to me. "If you want to ask something, ask, but don't…don't try to trick me into saying something."

Lion furrowed his eyebrows. "I wasn't trying to trick you into anything. I was just going to start with some smaller questions, ones you might feel more comfortable answering."

I tensed up, looking away. Damn me and my paranoid mind. I ruined everything.

"What's your favorite color?" Lion asked tentatively, quietly.

There was a pause for a long second. I could not answer. I could maintain my silence on anything and everything about me, and keep these relationships professional, cordial. I could do that.

But I'd be kidding myself if I thought that was possible anymore.

I didn't trust them. Not with my life or my past. But I…appreciated them. And their willingness to work with me despite my secrecy. I enjoyed the quick-witted banter, and the concerned looks, no matter how much they unsettled me. I enjoyed it when Tiger attempted to get to know me, even with his stand-offish attitude. It was funny how he got flustered when I called him out on it.

I enjoyed Bear's energy and his ability to make me laugh. I appreciated his presence and his ability to lighten the mood when things got too tense, and I appreciated how he treated me as an equal, and not as a kid.

I appreciated Lion's kindness and his steady presence. I enjoyed how he'd sometimes crack jokes that had Bear laughing for minutes at a time, and how he'd just grin afterwards watching him. I enjoyed how protective he seemed of his unit-members, and I was…grateful that that included me. I appreciated his leadership skills and his patience with me when I couldn't open up.

I had wanted to avoid all of these things, but I hadn't been able to.

I wanted to…let down my walls. Finally.

I couldn't, though, so…I settled for answering.

"…blue," I said quietly. "Like…like clear ocean water. That blue."

A pause. "Nice. Mine's blue too. Though I prefer lighter shades." That was Lion.

"Mine's yellow," Bear volunteered, poking his head out the door. The words were garbled through a mouthful of foam, but he grinned anyways. "Like on a really sunny day."

I managed a smile. Bear was like a kid, sometimes.

"Red," Tiger said gruffly. "I don't give a damn what shade."

I huffed a laugh, still looking at the abstract art on the wall. I noticed it had a shade of blue I liked in it, and traced the swirling line around the picture.

"What's something you're afraid of?" Lion asked, leaning back. "I'm particularly afraid of spiders. They scare the bejesus out of me, I tell you."

"I hate planes," Bear volunteered, now foamless, with a towel around his neck. "God, it's flying in a tin can of death. Can't stand them."

I looked at Tiger expectantly, raising an eyebrow when he remained silent. "What? I'm bloody fearless."

"S'that why you jumped ten feet in the air the other day when I tricked you into thinking there was a snake slithering around your feet?" Bear asked with a cocky grin. Tiger flipped him off.

I appreciated this. It was a heavy question, but they were giving light-hearted answers. I could be as serious or as vague as I wanted to be.

I went through my list of fears, searching for a suitable answer. There were…several. Jellyfish, drowning, doctors (surgeons especially), guns (I used them, and I was damn good, but that didn't mean I bloody liked them), planes, vaccines, hot air balloons, fireworks, space, bombs…bloody hell, naming all of them would take a year.

"Well," I said, shifting uncomfortably. "I don't like jellyfish."

"God, I hate those little buggers," Bear said, collapsing onto the bed next to Tiger. "Sting like hell. You ever been stung?"

I shook my head. "No, just…had a bad experience with one, was all." I stood quickly, realizing I'd said too much. "I'm going to wash off." I grabbed mt bag and headed to the bathroom.

I locked the bathroom door.

Taking a deep, shaking breath, I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, trying to slow my heart rate.

That had been…nice, and absolutely terrifying. I could feel myself becoming more comfortable with every second, and before I knew it, my life story was going to spill out of me.

Dammit, I wanted to let it all out. I wanted to talk about everything with someone, but I didn't have that luxury. But…but keeping it all inside, letting it build and fester, the hatred and sorrow and terror and regret and agony…I was going to burst one day. Burst, or absolutely shut down.

I didn't know which would be worse.

Mechanically, I washed the dried blood off my arms and hands, taking care to keep Bear's meticulous bandage dry. I splashed some water on my face and changed my clothes, dressing in some black sweatpants and a long-sleeved V-neck. I brushed my teeth and ran my fingers through my hair, looking at myself in the mirror.

I looked…pale. Paler than I remembered.

Sure, I hadn't been…sleeping, or eating much, but the blood loss was probably part of it.

Damn. I was a wreck.

I shook my head, scattering my thoughts. Shouldering my bag, I left the bathroom and beelined to the bed not occupied by Tiger and Bear, collapsing beside Lion and lying back. I was uncomfortable, to say the least, sleeping so close to someone else, but…but it couldn't be helped. There were only two beds.

Tiger headed to the bathroom, and Lion eyed me as I slipped under the covers. "I'm going to take first watch. Sound okay?"

I paused, nodding, then sinking down against the pillows, exhaling slowly. God, I was tired. And it put me at ease to know I'd at least have a few hours of sleep without someone else too close to me.

I fell asleep quickly. I suppose I was more tired than I'd imagined, because I was sure I wouldn't be able to sleep for ages. As I was drifting off, I distantly felt Lion pat my shoulder. I wondered when I'd started to be okay with people being able to touch me while I was so vulnerable. I wondered why I didn't do anything.

But I was too tired, and something about this touch was…dare I say, safe. Comforting.

"You did good today," Lion said quietly. I'm not sure if he meant for me to hear, because I was very nearly asleep. He might have thought I was. "Whatever you're carrying, you don't have to carry it alone."

For some reason, those words were…very nice to hear.

I burrowed a bit further into the blankets subconsciously, feeling his hand leave my shoulder. For the first time in a long time, I slept well. Wonderfully, even. Deeply and peacefully.

There were no nightmares.

A/N: HELLOOOOOOOOOO! I'm alive. Whoops.

I really enjoyed writing this chapter! I'm trying to make this a slow-ish burn, but I just REALLY want my child to have a family, so I may be taking it a bit fast. Let me know if I am! Please leave a review and let me know what you think so far, I'd appreciate it!

Thank you so much to everyone who's reviewed, and everyone who has followed and favorited!

Guest 1: That is SO SWEET omg thank you! I'm honored!

Guest 2: THANK YOU!

Cortanacordeliacarstairs: Thanks so much!

Next time, we'll get on with the actual mission :) love you guys! Thanks!