"Continue?" The nurse asked in accented English, holding my forearm. It was shaking in her grip, mainly because it was my main source of support. I had another nurse on my other side, holding my waist; my legs shook beneath me, and the last time I'd felt this weak and useless, I'd been shot in the chest.

It bothered me that I could be this weak after just a cut on the arm.

"Yes," I breathed, taking a shaking breath as I continued down the hall, barely able to move my feet between them. I shuffled in the damn slippers they'd given me, glad I'd convinced the guys to go get dinner somewhere other than the hospital cafeteria.

It had taken a lot of logical arguments and some raised voices, immediately warranting a decisive admonishment from the nurse on duty, but they'd finally relented. They hadn't left together in the week that I'd been here, and they needed some fresh air.

And I wasn't entirely comfortable with them watching me struggle my way down the hallway, so the privacy was an added bonus.

I'd actually been doing quite well, all things considered. I'd managed to walk somewhat normally, leaning against the wall for support, for almost six or seven minutes. It felt good to walk around, so despite the nurses' insistence that I stop and rest, I continued on.

And now I knew exactly why they'd asked me to slow down, because I was spent.

I'd requested to walk back to my room instead of be pushed in a wheelchair, but the few dozen meters left down the bright hallway seemed like an eternity. Somehow, with the nurses heaving me the last few steps, I made it, collapsing back into the bed with a contented sigh. One of the nurses left immediately, but one stayed to help me get situated.

The nurse said something in German as she reattached my IV and heart monitor with a scowl. I recognized "boy" and "stupid," so I filled in the blanks.

"Sorry," I breathed, blushing a little. I'd overextended myself a bit, and she knew it.

She rolled her eyes and patted my shoulder, leaving the room with a belated farewell to finish her rounds.

I fell back against the pillows, closing my eyes. I more than appreciated my unit's constant presence, but the silence was nice, too. It was nice to just…have a moment alone to process the last few days.

I opened my eyes, blinking heavily at the ceiling. I'd gotten some strength back, but if my adventure in the halls had proved anything, it was that I was nowhere near healed. I was reluctantly glad I'd have them to help. That was going to be…difficult to swallow, but I didn't have another option.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. One of the nurses had helped me take a bath two days ago (which had been thoroughly embarrassing, but necessary) and I felt a lot better now that I was clean. I'd also been eating more solid food, which was wonderful after a long while of pudding and soup. I was healing, and I knew it. It was just…a slow process.

There had been a noticeable change in the atmosphere around my unit after I'd opened up to them. The knowledge that I still had a lot of secrets was present, and heavy, but not nearly as unbearable as before. Tiger was a lot nicer. Not noticeably, but…there were no more thinly-veiled comments of real contempt, or dirty looks behind the others' backs. He treated me like more of an equal, and like a friend.

Hearing more about Elliot had helped me understand him, too. At first, I'd thought he was just a standard jackass—I was too wrapped up in my own trauma to recognize that other people had baggage too, and he'd unequivocally corrected me on that. If some punk kid (me) swooped in and tried to take my recently-deceased best friend's spot in my life, I'd hate them too.

Nevertheless, he was warming up to me, for which I was glad. He was actually funny when he wanted to be, which was a nice change of pace.

Lion was great, as usual. It was kind of frustrating how good a guy he seemed to be—all my shortcomings felt amplified when I considered him. He was constantly keeping an eye on me and my health without being too far in my space, and he'd even gone out of his way to pick up a box of hair dye without my asking. He was a little less guarded, too, since my confessions.

Despite that, I was a bit worried about Bear. He was by far the most open of the bunch, but I had a feeling he'd been holding something back over the past few days. Something important. He'd been with me a lot of the time in the cellar, so perhaps he could help me fill in some blanks—a lot of my time there was spotty at best. I remembered the important bits—Hollis' visits, the zipper incident, Bear's escape, in a mismatched order. The rest was blurred and jumbled, mere flashes of images that could have been a dream, for all I knew.

He knew what else had happened, and something about it seemed to be making him uncomfortable. I saw it in the way he sent me concerned glances when he thought I wasn't looking, and the way he insisted on staying with me most of the time, even when one of the others were there as well.

I sighed, shaking my head in thought. I'd ask him about it. I had no desire to relive my experiences, or to make him relive his, but I wanted to know what was freaking him out so much.

And then there was…the problem of K-Unit.

I resisted the urge to smother myself with my pillow, groaning in frustration as I thought about my impending doom. This was going to be really hard to lie my way out of, and I wasn't sure I'd be able to.

Eagle and Snake, I wasn't worried about. Snake and I had actually had half of a conversation, and he hadn't recognized me. To that end, unless Eagle had a weirdly impeccable memory, he wouldn't recognize me either. Fox had transferred to MI6, but he'd seemed sort of disillusioned after our escapade with Major Yu. I'd just have to hope he hadn't come back.

Unless Fox had actually come back, Wolf was going to be the main problem. He'd been with me at Point Blanc, but I couldn't remember if he'd ever been told my actual age. I'd always looked a little older than I actual was, so I had that going for me. He knew about MI6, though. And I doubted he wouldn't recognize me. It would be unrealistic to think he wouldn't. Fox would absolutely recognize me, and that was going to be a huge problem.

Shit. I didn't know how, of all the SAS units at Brecon Beacons…

Dr. Dominik startled me from my thoughts when he walked in, knocking twice. "Good morning, Alex. How you feel today?"

Dr. Dominik was the doctor on duty when Dr. Svoboda was off work, so I'd been seeing a lot of the both of them. I liked Dr. Svoboda a little better, just because I'd seen him first, but Dr. Dominik seemed nice, too. Dr. Svoboda's English was much better, though. My heart skipped a beat when I realized I was alone with him, but he hadn't given me any reason to suspect him. I'd keep alert, but I was sure I was alright.

"Good," I said, adjusting myself against the pillows as he came closer. "Tired."

"Yes, the nurses told me of your walk," he said with a patient smile. "Too much?"

I breathed a laugh, watching him inspect the monitors. "A little. It was nice to walk around, though."

He nodded, scribbling something on the chart. "You are healing well. You can be released…tomorrow? Sound good?"

"Sounds awesome," I admitted, nodding. Dr. Svoboda had said I was nearing the end of my stay, but tomorrow was better than I'd hoped for. "What time tomorrow?"

Dr. Dominik shrugged, sitting down on the stool beside my bed. "Early afternoon? Dr. Svoboda would like to check you before you leave." That was nice of him. It made me feel better, too. "First, I have one more important thing to talk to you about. Okay?"

Well, I'd had just about enough of important talks in this damn hospital bed, but I nodded, sitting myself up with my right arm. My left was still confined to the sling. "Okay."

Dr. Dominik nodded, flipping a couple pages on his chart and scanning something before continuing. Dr. Dominik wasn't nearly as expressive as Dr. Svoboda, so it was kind of difficult to guess his motives or thoughts. I waited anxiously, wondering what of my personal life we'd failed to dredge up already.

"Your shot wound," Dr. Dominik said, clarifying by tapping the space above his heart. Ah. My bullet wound. "It hurts?"

Confused, a little wary, I shrugged. "Not right now. Sometimes when I exert myself, or push myself too hard it aches."

He nodded, rifling through his papers for one of my prescription forms. "No physical therapy for it?"

I looked away, shrugging again. My arm twinged a little, the cut pulling from the action, but it was manageable. "No. I didn't have time." I fervently hoped he wouldn't ask any more questions about the circumstances, absently wishing someone from my team was here to warn him off the subject.

Fortunately, someone powerful seemed to be listening, because loud voices sounded in the hall outside my room at that moment, preceding the bang of the door. "Hope you're decent," Bear yelled, not bothering to wait for a reply before beelining to the recliner. I couldn't remember how many times the three of them had fought over that damn thing in the last few days. "Hey, Doc."

Dr. Dominik smiled in greeting as Lion and Bear filed in behind him, a takeout bag in Tiger's hand. "Hello. How are you?"

"Good, now that we've had some real food," Lion said, swatting the back of Bear's head as he resigned himself to one of the plastic folding chairs in the room. "Jag, we brought you spaghetti? Seemed safe enough."

I hadn't had spaghetti in ages—that sounded bloody amazing. "Brilliant, thanks."

Tiger put the bag on the end of the bed and sat, glancing at Dr. Dominik. "What're we talking about?"

I shifted, fidgeting, and shrugged. I was going to say something noncommittal and hope that Dr. Dominik would pick up on my social cues, but apparently British social cues didn't translate very well in the Czech Republic.

"His shot wound," Dr. Dominik said before I could butt in, and I pinched the bridge of my nose. "No physical therapy."

"Would you just like my family tree and birth certificate at this point?" I grumbled, pushing my hair back from my face. "Perhaps I can scrounge up my great-grandfather's pension notice somewhere."

Despite the bitterness in my words, Dr. Dominik looked unconcerned, flipping through his chart again. "I add it to the plan for your arm. Need therapy for surrounding muscle."

"Are you serious?" Tiger asked, his eyebrows pinched together. "You've never had any physical therapy for a bullet wound that bad?"

"…no?"

"Do you just…like making bad decisions, or something?" Bear asked, eyebrows raised. "That's downright dangerous, mate. That's not something you can just skip."

"I didn't just…skip it because I wanted to," I defended, looking away as a blush colored my neck. "I didn't…nobody told me I needed it. I had to leave the hospital before I was ready for it, and the doctor didn't mention it before that. After that I was…you know. Busy."

It was hard to miss the pointed looks from my unit, or the confused glance from Dr. Dominik, but he just sighed. "Alright. How long ago it happened?"

I had to think about it, pausing to retrace my steps. It felt like…like decades ago, with everything that had happened. Since then, I'd lost…Jack, then Sabina, then myself…it felt like it had happened to someone else. "I think…a little over a year ago." Huh. That was…a lot closer than I thought.

"And you're sure it's not causing you any discomfort?" Lion asked dubiously, glancing at the doctor. "Wouldn't it be painful from exertion without any therapy?"

"It aches sometimes," I admitted, shrugging again. "But it doesn't interfere with me doing what I need to. If it gets really bad, I just take some of the prescription painkiller until it goes away."

The doctor sighed through his nose, and if I didn't know better, I'd think he was completely done with me and my bull. "Fine. I add to arm regimen. Rest."

I gave him a thumbs up as he left.

"Eat," Tiger said, dropping the plastic takeaway container into my lap. "And explain."

"Explain what?" Damn, this smelled so good. I pried off the lid with clumsy fingers, excited to eat real actual food.

"Well, the bullet wound would be nice," Lion said, his usual expression of concern out in full force. "I was under the impression that it was fully healed."

I paused, chewing methodically. This was some good spaghetti. I was kind of reluctant to let the conversation spoil it, but…they were worried, I supposed. I could at least reassure them. "It is for the most part. It didn't…heal properly, so it's taken a bit longer, and…I never had time for physical therapy. I was in the hospital for several weeks, but something came up."

"What just comes up when you're in the hospital for a bullet to the chest?" Bear asked incredulously, propping his feet up against the side of my bed. "I feel like that kind of takes priority."

I shrugged, taking another bite. I couldn't very well tell them it was MI6's fault, since I'd actually catalyzed the Ark Angel mission myself. "Kind of getting into no man's land."

Lion sighed, tousling his hair. "Fine. At least…how'd you get it?"

I paused, stilling for a moment. "How'd I get the bullet wound?"

Lion nodded, Tiger and Bear looking equally invested. I fidgeted, somewhat annoyed. Could they not leave me alone for ten seconds without asking something I didn't want to answer? Seriously. I felt like I was drowning in all the secrets and the lies.

On the other hand, though…I supposed they deserved to know that much. It wasn't…incriminating, or anything.

"Sniper," I said quietly, rubbing the aching scar tissue on instinct. "Waiting for me while I was crossing the street. I was steeping off the sidewalk as he shot, and…the couple centimeters of concrete saved my life. I think…can I stop now?"

I'd felt myself drain of color the second I'd started talking about it, my breathing picking up despite myself. I could deal with the scar, I could deal with the aches, but…the second I thought back to the moment it happened, the utter confusion of falling and seeing my blood roll onto the sidewalk, ghosted figures of my parents leaning over me…I couldn't do it.

"Of course, yeah," Lion said quickly, grabbing my shoulder when I didn't look at him. "Hey. Calm down. I'm sorry. Everything's fine, Alex."

I jolted when he called me Alex, blinking myself back into reality. "Yeah, I'm…I'm good."

"Do you normally get this many panic attacks?" Tiger asked, crossing him arms.

I flinched, about to deny the thought before I remembered this was the third time they'd seen it happen. Shit, I felt like a little kid. It was everything I could do to keep my annoyance tamped down. After all, it wasn't their fault. "They're usually…easier to control. It's just, with, uh…with the drugs, and the exhaustion…it's harder to keep everything in check."

Lion, still concerned, patted my shoulder and leaned back. "Okay. Well…let's stop for now, okay? Eat. We wanted to talk to you about the apartment, anyways."

"We were thinking Toy Story-themed," Bear said with a grin, leaning back finally. "Maybe some Buzz Lightyear covers, some matching wallpaper…"

"Jackass," I mumbled through my spaghetti, but the stupid comment calmed me down some. "I'd peg you more for a Frozen theme, you think so?"

Lion laughed, throwing in his own two cents, and soon we'd devolved into a stupid conversation about nothing. It was exhausting to talk so much, especially after my escapade in the hallway, but…it was nice, too. It had been awhile since I'd just let myself laugh without worrying about anything.

K-Unit was still weighing on me, but…I had some time to figure something out. I could let myself enjoy today.

It would be okay to…not worry every once in a while. To just…let myself be.

It felt pretty good.

"Ready to get out of here?" Dr. Svoboda asked with a smirk, unwrapping the blood pressure cuff from my right arm.

"Born ready," I said with a smile, sitting on the edge of the bed. One of the male nurses had helped me change into some clean cargo pants and a t-shirt, my newly-washed windbreaker on my right arm and draped over my left shoulder. My arm was still in the sling to help it heal up, but they'd let me do some light lifting exercises yesterday evening. That had been humbling.

Bear and Tiger were waiting by the door to my room, my bag slung over Tiger's shoulder. Lion was signing my discharge papers and working out the billing with the accountants, since it was, after all, on the SAS' dime. That was a bloody awesome perk, one that I wasn't sure if MI6 had provided until I got shot.

"I'm sure," he laughed. "I know we've gone over everything, but one more time. No strenuous exercise until you're cleared with your physician, and keep up with your exercises every day. I know Tiger said you didn't want them, but I'm filling some prescriptions for your other conditions, and I want you to at least try them."

I didn't say anything, so I didn't technically lie. I'd probably throw them out as soon as we got to the apartment.

"I know you're prone to nightmares, but the sleep aid should help with that, especially during recovery. Your body has to rest if you want to recover from this, so at the very least, try that, alright?"

Hesitantly, I nodded, not letting myself glance at Tiger and Bear. I supposed they'd hear it eventually. "Alright."

Dr. Svoboda smiled, patting my knee. "Well, you're as good as you'll get, here. I'm impressed. Take care of him, understand?" Bear nodded with a smile, and Tiger gave a grunt that might have been an affirmative. He turned back to me and smiled, shaking my hand. "Been a pleasure, Jaguar."

I smiled. "Thanks for everything."

With a nod and a final farewell, Dr. Svoboda left. Damn. I liked him. I would actually miss him.

"Ready?" Bear asked, approaching with a wheelchair. "Got your throne."

I'd fought tooth and nail about having to ride out in one, but the doctor had unequivocally said that if I didn't leave in the wheelchair, I wasn't leaving period, and that had been enough to convince me. Reluctantly, I eased myself off the bed and into the chair, settling down. "Yeah."

We met up with Lion at the desk, where I signed the final release papers (because I was technically nineteen and had to do that, which felt odd). Lion said that the SAS had rented a van as far as the Vaclav Havel Airport in Prague, and from there we'd fly coach to London. A driver would be waiting at the airport to take us to their apartment, where our belongings would be shipped for leave.

I was excited to get back to the familiarity of England, but I knew that meant a boatload of other challenges, as well. Some more pressing than others.

I insisted on getting into the van myself, which earned a couple dubious looks from the others, but I managed through sheer willpower and pride. I sank back into the seat, winded.

"Woulda been easier if we'd helped," Lion admonished, taking the passenger seat. Bear slipped into the backseat beside me, and Tiger got into the driver's seat, thanking the concierge who'd picked up the car.

"Yeah, but…you didn't," I argued, getting my breath back under control. "And it was fine."

"Mm-hm," he agreed quietly, still looking unconvinced.

I sighed quietly, closing my eyes and leaning my head back. "Let me have this before we get back and you won't let me do anything."

Bear patted my shoulder sympathetically. "Sure thing, mate. You hold onto those two elevated feet like it's a lifeline."

I flipped him off, but I couldn't stop the inevitable smile.

Bear really didn't like planes.

Boarding had been somewhat of an adventure, what with my wheelchair. Since I could technically move around fine, I'd tried to argue that with a bit of help, I could walk to my seat and they could fold up the wheelchair and put it in storage, but Lion wasn't having it. At least it gave me priority boarding.

They ended up wheeling me down the narrow aisle and transferring me to the window seat with a lot of wobbling and cursing before I was finally settled, after which Lion went back to help with the luggage. I tapped the armrest nervously until people started actually boarding the plane, Damian Cray and the crashing jet (and subsequently Sabina) filling my mind.

Luckily, I didn't have to wait long for the others to board. Bear slipped in beside me, looking a little sweaty, and Tiger and Lion slipped into the seats in front of us. "Doing okay?" Tiger asked, peering around the seat.

I genuinely didn't know which one of us he was asking, so I glanced at Bear. "Doing great," he said with a thumbs up. "Just…like I said. Flying tin can of death."

I snorted, looking away as the flight attendants got up to demonstrate the safety precautions, feeling kind of tired. It was only a two hour flight, so I supposed trying to sleep would be futile. And the last thing I wanted was to have a nightmare on a crowded plane.

"You okay?" I asked quietly as Bear gripped the armrests when the plane started taxiing a few minutes later. "You know you're more likely to die in a car crash than a plane crash. We drove here, the hard part's over."

Bear chuckled, but it sounded forced. "Yeah. Hard part's over. Lucky us."

I sighed, noticing that Lion and Tiger were keeping an eye on us even as they talked to each other. I guessed they were worried.

"Oi," I said, elbowing Bear as much as I could with the sling still on my arm. "Listen."

Bear turned to look at me, relaxing a little as he did so. Ah. So that was it. Distractions would help him.

"Concentrate," I said, leaning over a bit so I could see into the aisle. "Tell me five things you can hear."

Bear blinked, looking a little nervous. "Is this…a game?"

"No, it's an exercise," I corrected, feeling him flinch beside me as the plane lurched when we stopped at the head of the runway. "Tell me five things you can hear, and they all have to be different sounds. It's not hard, it's bloody loud in here."

Bear obliged, closing his eyes. His hands were still clenched tightly around the armrests. "Um…I guess…the engine, a baby crying, someone talking…someone's game console, and…someone's music."

"Good," I said, leaning my head back. This exercise helped me a lot when I needed to calm down quickly, so I hoped it worked with Bear. "Four things you can see. They all have to be different colors."

Bear opened his eyes, flinching again as the plane started to accelerate, but looking more grounded than before. "Um…the chairs, the baby's blanket, Lion's shirt, and a girl's bracelet."

"That was too easy," I said, hoping it would distract him long enough for the plane to get into the air. We were moving pretty quickly, now, so it would be up any minute. "Do it again. Different things."

By them time we were cruising in the air, somewhat level, we'd worked our way down to the taste, which was one thing.

Bear made a face, looking much calmer than before. "Onions."

"Nasty, but I'll let you have it," I conceded. "And we're flying, and we're alive."

Bear bumped into my shoulder, leaning past me to look out the window. I shifted, a little uncomfortable, but it was manageable. "Damn," he breathed as we passed through a cloud. "Okay. Fine. This isn't…so horrible."

"Taking off is the worst part," I said, shivering as I thought back to Cray and Air Force One. I looked out the window absently, trying to ground myself a little. "Crash-landing sucks, but if you do it right and you're lucky, it's not as deadly as people think it is."

Bear didn't respond, and I glanced at him, worried he was panicking again, but he was just staring at me. "What?" I asked, noticing Lion and Tiger had turned around, too.

"Were you in a plane that crash-landed?" Tiger asked, eyebrow raised. "Because that's what that sounded like."

I cringed a little, realizing that yes, I…had let that slip. "Oh. Um…yeah. But I'm fine."

Bear shook his head, folding his hands behind his neck. "I swear. I'm going to need you to catalogue all your near death experiences one day. Nobody just…randomly has so many of them."

I shrugged, looking away. "No man's land, Bear."

Bear sighed. "Fine, fine. Whatever. Thanks for helping me calm down."

We eased back into silence. I shouldn't have said anything about the plane, but it had just slipped out when I'd been trying to calm Bear down. I blamed it on the lingering effects of the drugs, hoping that when I was fully detoxed, I'd be a little better about my brain-to-mouth communication filters.

Half an hour later, Tiger was snoring in front of us, and a glance confirmed that Lion had his headphones in, eyes closed. Damn. I missed listening to music. I'd had to ditch my cell phone, and I didn't want to waste any money on an iPod or something similar when I'd been underground. Bear was awake and fidgety, listening to music, but he looked okay. I figured now was a good opportunity to ask him why he was being weird.

"Bear," I said, elbowing him again. I should stop doing that; my arm ached a little. "Oi."

Bear started, glancing at me and popping his earbuds out. "What?"

"Do you have a minute?"

He shrugged, wrapping his headphones around his phone. "Sure. What's up?"

I shifted, thinking about how I wanted to phrase the question. "Well…could you…tell me what happened, in the cellar? I remember a lot of after you escaped, but…not much from before. And you've been giving me weird looks, so…if something happened, I'd like to know. If…you're okay with talking about it."

Bear watched me while I spoke, his face closing off a bit more the longer I talked. He turned away a little, not answering immediately, and I wondered if it was too soon.

"Well…what do you remember?" He asked, shifting.

I shrugged noncommittally, unwilling to let the memories come back in full force. I wasn't ready for that, not…not yet. "Bits and pieces. I slept a lot, I think…you spent most of the time digging, and…I remember Elliot." I glanced at him, but he didn't react to that. "Other than that…it's just kind of a blur."

Bear nodded, getting a little more comfortable in his seat. "You woke up a couple times. Once when Hollis came to taunt us with water. Do you remember that?"

I glanced up, eyebrows coming together as I thought. "Um…maybe? He asked…what I'd trade?" Phantom fingers ghosted up my tingling spine, but I ignored it, shifting to hide the flinch.

"Yeah," Bear said, his eyes dark. He looked angry. "Yeah, that was one time. Another time…I think you were hallucinating. You called me Rahim."

I froze, the familiar name sending panic through my veins. Shit. Bloody hell. What else had I let slip?

"What else did I say?" I asked, trying to make the question sound natural. My voice was tight. He must have heard it; there was no way he'd miss the change.

Bear shrugged, scratching his ear. "Um…something about McCain? He was trying to poison a lot of people? You thought we were in India, and you…asked why MI6 would have you escort a prisoner." He glanced at me, and I kept my face carefully blank, sitting on my hand to keep it from shaking. "I supposed you were mixing up agencies, or something, but…is there something else?"

I looked away, out the window, and tried to keep the panic off my face. "Nah. Guess I was just confused." I'd sooner give them my life story before my uncle died than tell them anything about MI6. There wouldn't be any coming back from that, whether they believed me or not.

Bear looked at me a second longer, not looking entirely convinced, but acquiesced, nodding. "Alright. Well…I suppose if I've been giving you weird looks, it's because I was confused about everything you said, and…worried. To be honest, mate, I've never seen someone deteriorate so much so fast, and…it wasn't easy to watch."

"Sorry," I said needlessly, trying to make the small condolence sound genuine. "I'm really okay now. Besides, you're probably the only reason I made it out of there."

"I should be the one saying that," he said, finally smiling a little. That was better; looked more like the regular Bear. "You and your double-oh-seven secrets."

I laughed, leaning back towards the window. "Sure. I'm a regular Bond."

Bear chuckled, and after a second of silence, replaced his headphones. I opted to watch the clouds pass in silence, tracing the miniature highways below and the toy cars and houses, reminding me of a Monopoly board.

I hadn't thought I'd sleep, but the quiet chatter in the background and the rhythmic pulsing of the engine reminded me that I was still recovering, and sleep, right now, was a needed friend. I figured I wouldn't sleep long enough for a nightmare, anyways—we only had a little over an hour until we landed. It would be okay to risk it.

Cautiously, I let my eyes close, settling my head against the window. It wasn't the most comfortable position, but it would do.

After a couple minutes of shifting, trying to get comfortable in the pressurized cabin, I finally fell asleep.

A/N: So, my excuse for taking so long is that I um discovered CRIMINAL MINDS which I'd never seen before and um yeah I'm obsessed. I binge watched over seven seasons in two weeks.

Anyways, hope you liked this chapter! Sorry I didn't get to the apartment, but I thought this was a good place to cut it.

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