"Here she is," Bear said, swinging the door open and kicking one of the bags in with his foot, his shoulders laden with additional luggage. "Home sweet home."

I peered into the flat, entering the dim foyer carefully. I steadied myself on the wall, feeling tired, but still alright to move around. The foyer fed immediately into a living room, holding two armchairs and a burgundy couch (A/N: settee? I'm sorry I'm very American), as well as a tellie and a glass center table with a wilting plant.

To the left was a compact kitchen, a stove and dishwasher nestled closely together. The counter space was half-occupied by a toaster oven and a blender, and there was a closed pantry on the right, by the main hallway.

Back in the hallway were several doors, which I assumed were the bedrooms and bathrooms. I was impressed by the compact flat's ability to appear spacious despite the constraints.

I'd stayed in a lot of halfway houses and homeless shelters in America after I left the Pleasures, until I could secure a plane ticket and an invitation to SAS Selection. There was little privacy, a constant fear of being stolen from, and more stress than I was comfortable with handling. I dearly missed my home in Chelsea, and the knowledge that it wasn't more than an hour was kind of insulting, but…the homey touches evident throughout this little flat made me, once again, overwhelmingly grateful that I was being welcomed.

"It's nice," I admitted with a smile, catching sight of a picture on one of the end tables. It was Lion, Bear, and Tiger, and who I assumed was Elliot. Elliot was Asian like Tiger, with fair skin and dark hair, laughing. They were at a festival of some kind. It reminded me of the St. Patrick's Day picture of me and the Pleasures. "Homey."

I shuffled slowly out of the doorway and into the living room, Tiger and Lion following behind, laden with the luggage that had been dropped off at the front desk of the building from Brecon Beacons. "Are you sure I can't do anything…?"

"You can barely carry yourself," Bear said decisively, pointing at the couch. "Sit down."

I rolled my eyes, lowering myself gingerly onto the couch. My arm, still in the sling, ached a little, but I could tell it was feeling a lot better.

Lion dropped a plastic bag full of pill bottles beside me, handing me a glass filled with tap water. "May want to sort through those and figure out when you take what. He gave you a pharmacy."

"Thanks." I opened the bag (which was an adventure with my restrained arm, but I managed) and dumped the bottles onto the couch beside me, reading the labels.

Rexulti for depression. Xanax for anxiety. Ambien for sleeping. Amoxicillin for antibiotics. Clotrimazole antifungal cream for the cut itself.

I heaved a sigh. Obviously Dr. Svoboda had ignored my request not to fill most of these, and knowing the others, they'd want me to take them.

I was supposed to take the Rexulti and Xanax with dinner every night, and the Ambien half an hour before I went to bed. The antibiotics would be twice a day, morning and night, for the next ten days, and the cream was to go on every morning for as long as I needed it.

I glanced behind me towards the chaos, where Lion and Bear were ransacking the kitchen for surviving food and Tiger was dragging his luggage to his room. Maybe I could flush the first three prescriptions without them noticing.

I yawned, feeling jetlagged, and glanced out the window at the rising morning. Between the driving, the flight, and the driving again, we'd spent all night traveling, and I could feel myself fading.

"Want to go lay down?" Tiger asked behind me, and I jumped at his sudden appearance, glancing up at him. "You look tired."

I shrugged, gathering the bottles and trying to shove them back in the bag. "I think so. Are—"

I paused, clearing my throat. Tiger looked at me, raising an eyebrow in question. "Are you sure you want me to stay in Elliot's room? Because I really don't mind staying on the couch…"

Tiger paused after I spoke, taking a deep breath. He glanced into the kitchen, where Lion and Bear were still arguing about how long eggs stay fresh for (which was not something I wanted to find out), and sat down.

"Look. I…" Tiger rubbed the back of his neck, shrugging. "I'm not going to lie to you. I'm not going to be entirely comfortable with it for a while. But that's not because I don't want you here, or anything…just that I'm still not…" He looked visibly uncomfortable, his neck reddening the longer he struggled to continue.

"Ell was my best friend, you know? I cleaned out all his stuff, but it still feels like…his. His room. So…you can stay there and I won't mind. It may just take me a little while to get used to it."

I hesitated, but nodded, smiling awkwardly. "Thanks."

In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Tiger took a play out of Lion's book and tousled my hair in passing. "Sure. Just don't trash the place, half-pint."

That was…a lot more sharing than I was used to from Tiger. Maybe he felt more comfortable because he was home, or something.

I decided to take his advice and go lie down, popping one of the antibiotics and downing the glass of lukewarm water, replacing all the prescriptions in the bag. I thought I was technically supposed to eat with it, but I wasn't very hungry.

Oh, right. They were probably going to start pestering me about food, too.

I sighed, resigning myself to three months of mother-henning.

I stopped by the kitchen entryway, clearing my throat to get Lion's and Bear's attention. "Um…which one…" Should I ask which one was mine? Which was Elliot's? Damn, this was confusing. "Which room should I go to?" There. That was safe.

"Second door on the left," Bear supplied, making a face as he threw what might have once been an onion into the rubbish can. "Bathroom is just across the hall. Can you make it alright?"

I nodded, raising a hand in farewell. "Yeah, thanks."

Tiger was in his room as I passed, steadying myself on the wall. From the glimpse I caught, he kept it fairly neat, with a couple personal touches. There were some framed pictures of who I assumed were his family and some friends, some with the unit, and a couple with him and Elliot.

He really liked the color red, as that seemed to be the theme, but it was done tastefully, at least.

Hesitantly, I stopped outside the next door, pushing the ajar door open and peering inside.

It felt…like an invasion of privacy, somewhat, but I knew I had to get over that eventually. The compact room was bare of personal touch, and the bed was made; the comforter and sheets were navy blue. A faux wood dresser was shoved against one wall, an indent in the wall beside it opening to reveal a tiny closet. There was also a nightstand that might have doubled as a small desk, holding a lamp and a digital alarm clock. Old, flattened carpet scuffed against my shoes as I stepped inside.

Feeling a little weak, I went to sit on the bed, kicking my trainers off as I sat down. There was a window on the other wall, letting a little bit of natural light in, though I could tell it hadn't been cleaned in some time. I glanced around, an alien feeling of normalcy blanketing the room.

It felt…weird to be here. It had been so long since I'd been somewhere with privacy. It reminded me more of my room in my Chelsea home than at the Pleasures'.

"Everything okay?" Lion asked, knocking twice. He came to lean against the door frame, raising an eyebrow in question. My bag was in his hand.

I glanced at him from the bed, shrugging. "Yeah. It's just been a while since I've had my own room," I admitted.

He glanced at me, and I could tell he was unwilling to ask, but curious to know. I sighed, glancing again at the window. As soon as I was stronger, I'd clean it. I liked natural light. "I stayed in homeless shelters and halfway houses for a while, after I…you know. Just been a while since I've had something private."

He nodded, smiling a little. "Well, I'm glad you're here, then."

I couldn't help but smile, too. He came in and dropped the bag on my bed, glancing around. "Do you have anything in storage anywhere that you need to pick up?"

"No," I admitted, unzipping my bag to throw the multitude of pills inside. "Just this."

Before Edward had adopted me, Mrs. Jones had said they'd do an estate sale with the property my from Chelsea house, and the money would be put with my other inheritance that they controlled. I highly doubted I'd ever see any of that money, but I honestly didn't have the energy to be angry about it anymore.

I supposed they'd done that, though I hadn't heard anything more on the subject. And I'd left most everything that I couldn't carry at the Pleasures', as well as what they'd bought me. It felt too much like stealing, after everything I'd put them through.

I was left with some clothes, a gun, a couple of my favorite books, the pictures I kept with me, and a small wad of bills. I'd have more money now that I was getting income from the SAS—the money was being placed in a dummy account routed through a Swiss account and back to London, courtesy of Smithers—so at least I could start saving for when I turned eighteen.

"By the way," Lion said, startling me from my thoughts. He looked pensive, fishing for something in his pockets. "We found this in your stuff; sorry, I completely forgot to give it to you at the hospital."

He handed me a familiar piece of crinkled photo paper, the edges lined up and sealed together with clear tape.

Sabina's familiar smile stared back at me, and it took longer than I would've liked to take it from him. "You fixed it?"

He shrugged, making his way back to the doorway. "Yeah. Wasn't difficult."

I didn't care if it was difficult or not. It was so good to have this back with me. "Thank you. Really."

He glanced at me, I suppose a little surprised with the sincerity in my voice, and gave me half a smile. "Sure thing, kid. Let me know if you need anything."

"Just…" I said before he could leave, shifting uncomfortably. Seeing Sabina's face reminded me of exactly what I was doing, and I was suddenly very uncomfortable with the thought of staying here. With them. "Are you sure it's okay that I'm here?"

Lion's smile fell, and he looked disappointed again. "I thought we were getting past this."

"It's not that," I assured quickly. "I just…I told you. People are after me." I looked away, fidgeting. "I don't…I don't want you guys to become collateral damage, is all. I'm just trying to make sure you know that…that if they find me here—"

If MI6 found me here—well, their careers may very well be over, depending on their reaction. If SCORPIA found me here…

I didn't even want to consider the possibility.

"Quit that," Lion admonished, looking concerned, but no longer disappointed. "Sorry I doubted you. And yes, we're sure. We can take care of ourselves, you know. In fact, I think we've done protective detailing once or twice, so we know how to keep a look out."

"But I don't want you to—" I started, trying to argue that I didn't want them to disrupt their lifestyle or anything, but he quickly cut me off.

"We're not doing anything. Seriously. You're going to be fine here, Jag." He grabbed the door, throwing me a smile over his shoulder. "Get some sleep. You're safe." He closed the door on his way out, and I was left with just the pale morning light filtering through the dirty window.

If I was being honest, I knew that, while all my worries were valid, I was mostly scared of losing someone again. I wasn't so dense that I didn't realize I had severe abandonment issues after everything, but I'd thought…well, I'd mostly planned on not getting close to anyone until I was sure I was safe, whenever that was. Then I wouldn't have to worry about being abandoned. Or that they would be killed because of me.

I was fighting this so hard because I knew, even now, with a very fragile relationship of trust and respect and friendship, losing them would be more than I could take.

I lay back, carefully removing my sling and putting my bag on the ground, grabbing a folded blanket from the foot of the bed and spreading it over myself, not bothering to change.

I'd just have to make sure that never happened. No matter what it took.

I supposed I was more tired than I thought, because the sun was beginning to set when I woke again.

I stretched, minding my arm, and yawned heavily, sitting up. Muted chatter came from the living room. Glancing at the clock on the nightstand, I supposed it was dinnertime. Something smelled good, anyways.

I felt refreshed, so walking to the front of the flat wasn't much of a challenge; I kept one hand trailing the wall just in case, but other than a bit of wobbling, I was alright. The other three were in the living room, eating what looked like Indian takeaway.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Bear said through his curry. "How're you feeling?"

"Good," I admitted, searching through the cupboards for a glass, filling it with tap water from the sink. My hands were beginning to shake, but I was determined to finish the menial tasks without help. "Better now that I've slept."

"We didn't know what you wanted," Lion said, glancing at the spread covering the glass table. "We got a lot, though. You hungry?"

I shrugged, sitting down in the empty armchair with my water. "I could eat," I said noncommittally. It smelled good, anyways.

They weren't kidding. I was surprised the restaurant hadn't cut them off; it seemed like they'd ordered one of everything.

"It smells good," I voiced, grabbing an empty plate and loading it with a bit of everything, saving a big space for the biryani and a couple momos pieces. Ian had liked Indian food; we'd frequented a little place by our house in Chelsea often enough when he was home. I'd grown to enjoy the heavy spice after some dubious endeavors.

"We always eat from this place our first day back from assignment," Tiger said. "It's become something of a tradition."

I laughed under my breath. That sounded just like them.

"Do you need to take your meds?" Bear asked pointedly. "You need to take some with dinner, right?"

"Yeah, I'll take them after," I said, taking a bite of a momos. Damn, that was good. I'd probably only take the antibiotic, but he didn't need to know that.

"Lion, when's your sister coming to visit?" Tiger asked in a drastic topic shift, which piqued my interest.

I glanced up, a little pang of surprise giving way to nervousness. I hadn't considered that I might have to interact with their families, but I guessed it made sense. I couldn't very well expect them to ban everyone from their flat because I didn't like strangers.

Lion chewed and swallowed quickly, responding, "Sometime in the next week. She's bringing Jacob and Jonah, too."

"How old's the little terror now?" Bear asked with a grin.

Oh. A kid. I didn't do well with kids. At least, I hadn't yet, in my limited experience.

"Turning six in December. Abby says the terrible twos never tapered off," Lion laughed. He fished out his phone, scrolling through it for a few seconds before handing it to me. "That's my younger sister Angelica, her husband Jacob, and their son, Jonah."

I took the phone and glanced at the picture. They looked like a typical young family. Angelica was pretty, and looked a lot like Lion; she had the same light brown hair, but her eyes were brown while Lion's were a clear blue. She was tucked under the arm of an average man with pale green eyes and dark hair, a grin stretched across his face. In their arms was a little boy with fair hair like his mother and green eyes slightly darker than his father's.

"Nice," I said awkwardly, handing him back the phone. I didn't really know how he wanted me to react.

It didn't seem to bother him, though. "They're coming round next week to visit; they help take care of the place when we're all gone."

I nodded, giving an awkward half-smile. "Can't wait to meet them." Oh, that sounded painfully plastic. "I mean…"

Tiger snorted, and Bear didn't spare me any embarrassment, laughing in earnest. "Once more with feeling, Jag."

I blushed, taking a bite of curry to avoid answering.

Lion, again, didn't seem to mind, laughing at my response. "Don't worry; my sister's wonderful, and Jacob's a good bloke. Jonah can cause a fuss, though."

I nodded, half-smiling. Angelica looked nice, anyhow.

"Angie will like you," Lion said, stealing the last momos off Bear's plate, ignoring his indignant complaint. "She likes strays."

I stopped chewing long enough to flip him off, but I couldn't deny the jab.

"Are your parents flying in to visit?" Bear asked Tiger, who was nursing a beer. I'd never pegged beer as a good companion for Indian food, but Tiger seemed to be enjoying the eclectic combination.

"I think so, in a few weeks," he said, leaning back in the armchair and propping one of his feet on the edge of the table. "They said they'd fly in and then we'd all drive to Jii-san's in Birmingham. Oka-san said she'd bring her mochi recipe again, since you ate so much last time." (Oka-san is Japanese for Mom; Jii-san is Japanese for Grandfather).

If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn that stars appeared in Bear's eyes. "I love your mom. I'm taking her."

Tiger laughed, and I couldn't help but smile a little. Tiger seemed much less threatening when he laughed. "I think my Dad might have a few things to say about that."

That was interesting. I recognized Tiger's use of traditional Japanese honorifics for his mom, but not his dad. He was probably half-Japanese, in that case.

"Is he still on business in Egypt?" Lion asked, scooching his plate carefully into a clear nook on the table before rising for the kitchen, presumably to refill his drink.

"Nah, he's back in Okita with Oka-san, now. She was angry with him for being away so often, so he put in for some extended vacation time."

This was beginning to make sense now. No wonder they'd been curious about my family and my background; they seemed really comfortable with sharing everything among themselves. I'd bet they expected me to be comfortable doing the same. I felt kind of bad that I couldn't pitch in with the conversation, but it was nice to learn more about them.

"We didn't have any of fall or Christmas off last year," Bear said to me, startling me from my thoughts. "Our families were a little miffed."

I gave him a smile, an unsolicited pang of loss thrumming in my chest. "I'm sure." I hesitated for a second, shifting uncomfortably. I supposed some harmless information wouldn't be too bad, since we were all talking about our families. Besides, if I gave some, maybe they wouldn't pester me for more. "I was always angry with my uncle when he missed a holiday, but I was usually over it by the time he got home."

Lion came in with a soda, sitting down in his spot as I finished speaking. It wasn't an earth-shattering revelation, or anything, but it made me feel a little better. I hadn't talked about my uncle since talking to Tom a couple years ago, and…well, I missed him. I missed talking about him.

The other three seemed to gather that it had been an intentional reveal, but thankfully, they didn't call me on it. "Your uncle raised you?" Bear asked.

"Mm-hm," I confirmed through a bite of curry, hoping to defer any further questions.

I couldn't talk about Jack, and I didn't want it to reach that point.

"What about you?" I asked Bear. "Are you going to see your holiday?"

"I'm gonna crash Tiger's reunion for a few days, since his mum is the best cook on the planet," he grinned, nudging his friend with his bare foot, earning a half-hearted scowl, "but then I'm going to Manchester to visit my dad."

"Nice," I said with a smile, actually meaning it this time. "Lion, are you going to go to your sister's?"

"That's the plan," he said, leaning back, his plate finally empty. Mine was dwindling, as well. I ate another momos. "Her husband's family is American, so we're all flying out for Thanksgiving. Do you want to come with me?"

The question startled me, and I looked up, my fork comically paused halfway to my mouth. "What?"

"Do you want to come with me, for Thanksgiving," he repeated, as if it was an obvious question. "My brother-in-law's family wouldn't mind. If you'd like to stay here, though, you're welcome to."

I paused, wondering just what I'd done to deserve a unit like them. That wasn't something people offered at random, and…I was honestly touched by the invitation.

I think it showed in my smile, which was genuine, for once. "That's really nice of you to offer, but…no, thanks. My, um…my parents and uncle are buried just outside London, and I haven't been able to visit them in a while. I figure by then, I'll be moving around more, so…I'd like to go there."

"No problem," Lion said, patting my shoulder with a smile as he took his plate to the kitchen. "Let me know if you change your mind."

I smiled down at my food, listening to Bear and Tiger discuss their football teams' preliminary statistics, the clank of dishes in the kitchen a reassuring cacophony of sound that I hadn't realized I'd missed.

Maybe the luck of the devil would last just a little bit longer.

"I shot your sister between the eyes," a rasping voice rumbled, a tinge of glee and a whisper of laughter turning the sound into a macabre declaration.

I turned quickly, trying to pinpoint the source of the voice in the inky abyss. I looked down, and the blackness continued; what was I even standing on, then, if I was destined to see nothingness in every direction? Where was I?

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone who might have been Sabina. I had just enough time to lay eyes on her, to see her smile for a split second, before her head disappeared in a blaze of red, her body following shortly.

The laughter came again, rumbling like quiet thunder, and I turned again, faced with emptiness. I held my left bicep, trying to staunch the flow of blood, but it seemed to be the only thing in color in the whole world—a bright red swath in a sea of darkness. My body was pulsing in pain, but I pushed through it. I had to get out.

"Why don't you keep me warm tonight?" The voice said again, the familiarity terrifying me as phantom hands ghosted over my skin. I twisted away from them, writhing and trying to run, but they followed me. They seemed to tear at my clothes, my hair—anything to keep me in place.

"Time to die, soldier boy," it said, and I whipped around, expecting more nothingness, but I didn't get it.

Instead, I got Hollis, staring at me with two empty eye sockets and a bloody grin.

I threw myself backwards as he reached for me, a scream tearing at my lips, but the world around me remained silent save for the madman's laughter, his fingers ghosting across my shoulder as I backpedaled.

I turned and bolted, still clutching my burning arm, but my legs were weak and trembling, and the blackness kept stretching in front of me no matter how fast I moved.

I tried to yell, but the words were stuck in my throat. I tried yelling for Ian, and Jack. I tried yelling for Sabina. The void remained silent.

I threw a glance over my shoulder and shuddered to a halt, realizing that Hollis was gone.

I stopped, panting, my knees trembling beneath me.

"It's your fault."

The phantom voice was different, but unmistakable, and I whipped around just in time to see General Sarov raise a pistol to his head and fire, his anguished eyes never leaving mine as his expression was buried in a mist of blood.

I shut my eyes, feeling the warm liquid hit my face and chest, stumbling back in horror as I tried not to think about it.

I bumped into something behind me, but it wasn't phantom hands, anymore—it was solid. I turned again, my brain scrambling to stay lucid in the wash of terror, and looked up.

"I didn't want to," Anthony Sean Howell said, haunted eyes contradicting a wide grin, a charred detonator in his hands. I stumbled back, my breath hitching in my chest as the fear threatened to drive me mad. Ash took low steps towards me, but as quickly as I backed up, the distance between us only lessened.

"You believe me, don't you, Alex?" He asked, his thumb hovering over the detonator, his dark eyes wide in agony even as he smiled. "I didn't want to kill them. They made me."

I choked on the vile words I longed to throw at him, but before I could, his image shifted. His skin darkened, his eyes lightened, and his hair greyed, worn spectacles appearing on his face. He was still holding a detonator, though.

Abdul-Aziz al-Rahim smiled. "I wanted to." He nodded to something behind me, and reluctantly, I turned.

I saw myself, but…I wasn't myself. After a brief moment of shock, I realized it was Julius, and he was now holding the detonator.

He grinned a shark's grin and said, "I really wanted to."

And pressed the button.

Behind me, there was an explosion. I turned, a scream on my lips, and saw a burning car behind the fire, bright red hair almost blending in with the flames—

I shot up in the foreign bed, a yell on my lips before I remembered I wasn't alone.

Feeling weak, my entire body shaking, I scrambled from the bed and tried to run to the loo, but my knees gave out halfway to my door. Despite the obstacle, I knew that if I didn't make it to the toilet in the next few seconds, I'd need to pay for the carpet to be cleaned or replaced.

I ended up having to crawl. I didn't think I'd ever felt more pathetic as I dragged myself quickly to the bathroom, throwing open the door and barely heaving myself in front of the toilet before my stomach revolted.

I heaved for a several seconds, acid and bile burning my throat as I sagged in front of the toilet, my body quivering. My arms barely had enough strength to hold me up.

I all but collapsed against the tub when I was finally finished, my stomach roiling at the memories of the inky abyss and Hollis, Ash and his stupid, pointless vendetta of jealousy, Sarov and his selfish notion of power, Razim and his—his madness

I lurched back to the toilet, heaving, but there was nothing left to bring up.

Damn. There went my antibiotic from the night before.

I coughed when I was finally done, clumsily flushing the toilet and leaning my head against my arm, my core trembling as I tried to keep myself upright. The shakiness from the nightmare and the fatigue from the lingering sepsis were working in tandem to reduce me to this pathetic, shivering mess on the floor of someone else's bathroom.

I gave a pitiful whimper as another surge of nausea flipped my stomach, but there was nothing left to bring up. I took a shaking breath, squeezing my eyes shut as I hated myself for the traitor tears that slipped out.

When had I become this? When was the shift complete from a normal English boy who loved football and American music to…to this?

I wanted Jack. She was the only one I ever let see…this. This mess I was reduced to after reliving one of my many traumas. I wanted her soft hands and her quiet reassurances, her American lullabies and her constant presence.

I wanted Jack.

"Jaguar?" A voice thick with sleep sounded from the door, and I flinched in belated fear as the light flicked on, my eyes still squeezed firmly shut.

"M'fine," I mumbled quietly, my voice breaking in betrayal as I shivered, huddled on the floor.

"Shit, mate," he said again, and I realized it was Bear. His voice was sympathetic mix of pity and concern, and I felt even more pathetic at the tone. "You alright?"

"Mm-hm," I hummed, unwilling to open my eyes or raise my face. If I let go to wipe the tears away before he saw, I'd fall over, so I kept my face resolutely to the floor. "Sorry…go back—" I coughed again, my throat tingling as the acrid burn persisted. "Go back to bed."

"Jag, vomiting is a sign of sepsis relapse," Bear said calmly, putting a hand on my back. He sounded much more awake now. I felt him crouch next to me. "I need you to be honest. Is your arm burning, or hurting?"

I shook my head, the action dizzying. Bear grabbed my shoulders to steady me, cursing quietly. "No," I voiced, knowing he'd need to hear it to believe it. "It's not…" I took a shaking breath as I tried to readjust myself, but my constricted muscles refused to cooperate, something I'm sure Bear noticed. "Nightmare."

"Oh," Bear said quietly.

God, this was pathetic. I was so used to dealing with the aftermath alone, now, and—and knowing that Bear was seeing me at my lowest

"Do you think you're done?" He asked softly, his hands still on my back and shoulder, keeping me steady as I shook.

My stomach was still somersaulting, but not as badly as before, and I didn't have anything left to bring up, anyways. I nodded, taking a shuddering breath and coughing, the burn in my throat finally lessening.

"Okay. I'm going to get you some water, alright? Then we'll get you back to bed."

I shook my head, steadying myself as the dizziness persisted. "No. You…I'm okay." I was very clearly not, but I hoped he wouldn't press the issue. Unfortunately, this was Bear, and he was a stubborn bloke.

"You're not," he said. "And that's okay."

He patted my back and left. I heard glasses clinking in the kitchen, the sound of the sink running.

I sniffed, squeezing my eyes shut tighter to try to keep the tears locked in, but somehow, they managed to escape anyways. I didn't want him to see me like this. Of the three of them, he was my first choice, but…I didn't want him to see this. I didn't want anyone to see this.

"Here," he said, and I flinched violently at his voice, not having heard him come back. I felt him still in surprise. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you."

I heard the quiet clink of the glass as he set it carefully on the tile floor, crouching beside me again. "Can you sit up?"

I shook my head.

"Okay. I'll help. Sound okay?"

I didn't respond, which he took as an answer. He took my shoulders and carefully supported my weight as I leaned back against the tub, keeping my head down. As discreetly as I could, I drew my sleeve over my face, wiping away the tears.

Bear must have seen, but he didn't comment on it. "C'mon. Drink some of this."

He handed me the water, and after a second of fumbling, I managed to take a few sips, the fetid aftertaste diminishing slightly. The tepid water soothed the burn in my throat, but I had to put the glass down before I dropped it, my hand trembling.

"Thanks," I said quietly, barely more than a whisper.

He may have nodded; I wasn't looking. "Do you want to try going back to sleep?"

I shook my head, rubbing one of my eyes. They stung. God, I'd never felt more like a helpless child. "You don't—you can go. I'm fine."

Bear sighed. "You're not. I really don't mind, Jag." He paused. "Do you want to talk about it? Would that help?"

"…I don't know," I said honestly. I'd never talked to anyone about my nightmares before. I'd told Tom and Sabina small things, harmless things, but I'd never, ever let them know just how bad they were. I'd told my psychiatrist, for the brief spell that I spoke to her, that I had them, and that they were bad, but never how they made me feel, and very little of what was in them.

And I never, ever told Jack about them. The last thing I wanted was to push my terrors onto her, when she did so much for me.

I'd never…spoken about them. And while I wanted to, I'd never had anyone to listen. Now that Bear was offering…

Shifting from a crouch to sit on the tile, Bear quietly closed the bathroom door, leaning back against it. "I'll listen. You can tell me as much or as little as you want."

I shifted, wondering what it would accomplish. I didn't want to burden him with this. I didn't want him to know how screwed up I was. How broken.

"…do you have nightmares?" I asked quietly, rubbing my other eye. My arm ached, but it was the familiar ache of healing, instead of the persistent pain of injury. "You don't…you don't, uh—"

"It's fine," Bear said, leaning his head back against the door, blinking thickly. He was tired. I felt bad. "I do." He glanced at me, his eyes darkening a bit as he glanced away. "I get a lot about Elliot, and I know Tiger does, too. Lion only admitted it once, but he…has a lot about his dad. We all get them. None like that, though."

Well, I appreciated his honesty, anyways.

I nodded, shifting a little. I felt the shakiness ebbing a bit, but my hands were still quivering, I crossed my arms, shoving them under my armpits to stop the motions. "I, um—the first part—"

I shivered again, wondering what the bloody hell I was thinking, agreeing to this conversation. Alarm bells were clanging in absolute panic, threatening to send my mind spinning into madness if I let myself continue speaking. This was uncharted territory. This was part of myself I was never supposed to allow into the light.

I kept going.

"It was…uh, Hollis," I admitted quietly. I was suddenly glad it was Bear and not one of the others, because he understood, a little. He knew how much Hollis terrified me, though neither of us had ever said so aloud. He knew a bit more of what I'd been through with him. "Things he said, things he—things he threatened."

Bear nodded, brow furrowing in sympathy. Bear was easily the most expressive of the bunch, and it was showing, now. "Right."

I took another breath, feeling a little bit steadier, trying to ignore the alarm bells still screaming within me. "I saw—I never…" I rubbed my eyes again. I'd stopped crying the moment I sat up, but my eyes still burned, my vision blurred. "I never saw her…Sabina's body. I had to…to leave before the funeral. And—" I shivered again, remembering the phantom feeling of Hollis' hand around my throat as he described in excruciating detail the death of my last thread to meaningful life.

"And I supposed my mind conjured something up to fill that gap," I admitted. "And from there it…it was…a lot of different things."

Bear nodded, giving me a second. "Do you want to keep going?"

I shifted, thinking carefully about the question. Hollis was, ironically, safe territory for us. It was a shared experience of trauma. It was perfectly reasonable for us to talk about it.

From then on, as I liked to say, it was no man's land.

But I was so tired, and so sick of keeping everything locked down. It was writhing and bursting inside of me, and I needed to let something out.

"It was a couple years ago," I approximated, looking away. I stared at the pale purple wallpaper, peeling slightly around the plumbing fixtures. I saw Bear watching me intently. Maybe he knew that this was something I needed to do. Or maybe that was me hoping he did.

"I can't…tell you how I got there," I prefaced, unwilling to divulge the bulk of my past just yet, "but…it ended with me on a pier with a man who…who was absolutely mad. He was an absolute madman. But he…he'd spared me, several times, because he wanted…he said I looked like his son. He wanted to adopt me instead of kill me."

I took another slow breath, calming myself. I realized, other than the debrief, this was the first time—the first time I'd told someone about this particular instance in so much detail. I didn't know why this one haunted me so much, when other experiences had taken so much more from me, but…General Sarov was a constant source of nightmares.

I shifted, smiling sardonically at the memory. "I was keeping something from him. Something he needed to…to hurt people. He said he'd shoot me, and I threw it in the river." I saw Bear's eyes narrow in my periphery. "I told him I'd rather die than be his son. And I meant it.

"So, he…well…" I paused, gearing up to say the words. "He looked at me and said, 'it's your fault.' And then he shot himself."

The slight echo of the words left a debilitating silence in their wake, a palpable tension replacing my thin voice. I didn't look at Bear. I couldn't. The alarm bells had since quieted, my mind giving up hope that my heart would stop pouring out my nightmare.

"Sorry," I said after a few seconds of silence, curling in on myself a bit more, now that I had the strength to do so. "That wasn't…I didn't want—"

"Oi," Bear said, his voice pained in sympathy. I risked a glance at him. "It's okay. Thanks for telling me."

He gave me a thin smile, but I could tell the confession had unsettled him. He was fidgety, but his eyes were calm. Worried, maybe, but calm.

I nodded absently, sipping at the lukewarm water, my stomach finally settling. "You can…you can go back to bed. I'm fine now."

Bear shrugged, unmoving. "It's okay. I'm awake now."

My expression must have shown how guilty that made me feel, because he quickly backpedaled. "That's not what I meant. It's almost five in the morning anyways, and I was going to get up early, anyways."

"Oh," I said quietly, setting down the empty glass. I was exhausted. All I wanted to do was go back to sleep, but I knew that was pointless, now. I wouldn't be able to sleep after that. I resigned myself to a day of fatigue. At least I probably wouldn't be expected to do much, anyways.

"Do you want to get back to bed?" Bear asked, stretching against the door and standing. Funny how he asked right as I decided that no, that wasn't an option.

"No…think I'll stay on the couch for a while," I said. "Watch the tellie or something."

Bear nodded, smiling tiredly. "Okay. I'll show you how to work the thing. It's bloody temperamental."

That earned him a half-smile. He helped me stand, which was a bloody adventure in itself, and supported me to the couch. My legs shook like a newborn faun's, and I resisted the urge to punch a hole in their beige drywall in frustration. I also resisted the urge to go off on Bear out of nothing more than frustration and self-pity, because he was being awesome right now, and I felt so utterly useless and pitiful.

"Thank you," I said once I was settled on the couch, the remote in my hand.

Bear tossed me a blanket and smiled, settling into the armchair on the left. "Sure. It's an old thing. We'll probably need a new one soon enough."

"No, uh…" I shifted, spreading the blanket over my legs to avoid looking at him. "For…listening. And staying."

Bear paused. "I like you better when you're honest."

I looked up, startled, and he chuckled. "Sorry, it's just…you're so mysterious, you know? And I know you have your reasons, and I'm more than willing to respect that. There are things about us that you don't know, too, and that's fine. Just…I'm glad to see you opening up some. I don't think you're weak for doing it."

AT my questioning (and probably offended) look, Bear shrugged, glancing outside at the dark sky, streetlights filtering through the drawn curtains. "You gave me something, so I'll return the favor." He paused, taking a deep breath, and I almost told him that he didn't have to do that. But…well, I wouldn't' refuse the gesture, if he was willing to give it.

"My mum left me and my dad when I was nine." Ah. That was why he hadn't mentioned his mum earlier. "I internalized all the hurt, and…anger, you know? I never really talked about it, because I didn't want people to think less of me." He shrugged, almost to himself. "The truth was that I was scared. I was scared that…if I admitted it, she'd never come back. I was holding onto some little hope that if I didn't say anything, if I didn't talk about it, maybe one day she'd come back, and it would all have been a bad dream. Saying it would make it real.

"So I never talked about it, and I never dealt with it. The anger and everything got me into a lot of trouble in middle and high school. I finally made…well, I made a big mistake, and my dad finally made me talk to someone about everything. Bloody hated it at first, and they knew it. But he wouldn't let me stop going."

He paused, narrowing his eyes at himself, kind of like I did when I realized I'd said too much. "Anyways. The point is…sometimes we convince ourselves we're strong for staying quiet, when the bravest thing you can do is speak up."

I blinked, the words slamming into me with the force of a silent, sudden tsunami.

That was…I'd never thought about it like that. I'd never thought…

Bear seemed to realize that I was thrown by his words, and said quickly, "Yeah, don't give me credit for that. Much too poetic to have come from me. That was my therapist. But I remember it when I start internalizing things. I even have it saved as a note in my phone, for when I need to see it."

I nodded absently, still reeling from the revelation his words prompted. That was…that one would take a while to work through.

"Did I break you?" Bear asked jokingly, looking a bit more like himself. "Don't worry, mate, you don't have to start telling us everything at once. It's just something to remember."

I couldn't help but a smile a little, his words putting me at ease. "Yeah. I…thanks."

"Sure thing," he said, getting comfortable in his armchair. "Okay, well…what are we watching?"

We channel-surfed for a few minutes, settling on an American show about two brothers fighting the supernatural. The show was cleverly named Supernatural. Bear made a joke about it.

The show was good, but I didn't have much context, so my mind wandered quickly. Before I knew it, my eyes were drooping. With a quick glance, I saw Bear's doing the same.

Bear and I were both asleep by the time the sun rose.

A/N: Bear is the best bro don't at me

PSA: I meant that line. "Sometimes we convince ourselves we're strong for staying quiet, when the bravest thing you can do is speak up." This is so, so true, and I want you ALL to remember it. If you're suffering in silence, no one can help you. You take away the option for people who love and want to help you. My friend once said that she felt bad for sharing things with her friends, because she didn't want to burden them, or bother them with her problems. Her therapist said:

"And who do you think you are to take that decision away from them?"

And I was like WHOA mind BLOWN, but it's true. If you need help, ask for it. Hell, PM me, if you need someone to talk to. I'm here for you, and I care about you.

Anyways, ONWARD. Did you guys like getting some more background on L-Unit? I liked writing it. I love these characters so very much. I'll love them even more when I get to explore their dynamics with K-Unit! Who's coming soon! I'm probably going to do a couple short time skips (maybe a week or two at a time or something) to keep the pace rolling, because I don't want this to end up being, you know, like…eighty chapters or something :'D

Anyways! Reviews! I love you. Very much: BethWils04, reginamare, Asilrettor, Double-Oh-Nothing007, Weirdo, ProcrastinationAndCoffe, LoveRider, DaisyLynn21, otterpineapple06, Riderkitty, Fangtasia21, Cute Fishy, Guest, Em0Wolf, Band-007, Ichigo1217, PuffandProud, chelanfish1, Gwennwyfar, Fangirl all da way, Guest, and Mac!

Reginamare: I know it's wonderful! And OMG I FREAKING LOVE PRODIGAL SON IT'S AMAZING AHHHHHHH! Also YES Alex is so sassy XD

Weirdo: hey, of course! Me toooooooo XD

LoveRider: hahaha I know right he's stubborn as a mule

Fangtasia21 (If they're an Oz meeting, then what is a K-unit?): THE MUNCHKINS OMG YES

Guest (It's cool that you respond to every review): Of course! You guys take the time to review and I want you to know how much I appreciate it :) And hehe yes it does though it may be more because I tend to undershoot lol. And YES WE DO!

Em0Wolf: Thanks so much, I'm glad you think so!

Guest (Heyy, please think about setting an update schedule cause I'm so so impatient): Hey! Sorry, I don't have an update schedule because honestly I don't have a schedule myself, so I have no idea when I'll actually have time to sit down and write. I'm honestly just afraid that if I set one I won't be able to stick to it, and in my mind that would honestly…be more disappointing? Let me know if you disagree, and I'll consider it. Thanks for the review, and I'm glad you're enjoying it!

Mac: Of course! It may take a while, but I will :) and thanks so much for an awesome compliment!

As always, thanks so much for everyone's wonderful support, and have an awesome day! Hope you enjoyed! Please leave a review if you did! :)