Hello! Disclaimer: I haven't read the original AR books in a while, and the Alex Rider wiki fandom site was super not helpful for researching Tom's personality, so I'm…going for it. I'm going for a class-clown nice-guy vibe? That sounds like the Tom I remember, and I feel like that would really nicely complement Alex's quieter, more private personality. Let me know what you think! Happy reading!

"Tom?"

My gut dropped in utter shock as I locked eyes with Tom past Tiger and Lion. I felt myself sag onto my crutches as my knees shifted and the blood rushed to my head, but I couldn't look away.

It had been so, so long since I'd seen him.

Tom's eyes widened, and all he could do for a few seconds was stare at me, his eyes raking over my broken form, his lips apart in words that refused to come. His hands shook. There was a bruise on his cheek, a rucksack on his back. He looked pale and exhausted.

And then he was dropping the bulging rucksack off his back and literally ducking under Lion and Tiger's arms, ignoring their yells of alarm, skidding down the hallway, and throwing his arms around my shoulders before I could even process what was happening.

It hurt. My side screamed, and my leg couldn't take the weight, and my hands and wrist were aching. My throat ached. Everything ached.

I didn't move.

"You bastard," he yelled into my shoulder, his arms tight enough to hurt. "You just—you just cut me off and don't call me for ages, I don't know if you're alive or dead or captured or held bloody hostage somewhere, and I don't know if those bastards have you off on a mission, o-or something worse, and then you—you just call me out of nowhere and tell me you're bloody dying and that—that I'm an awesome mate? What the fuck is wrong with you?"

The words were shouted and abrasive and angry, so angry, but he was shaking. He was shaking and I'd never seen Tom like this.

"Tom—"

"No," he yelled, and I heard the crack in his voice now. His fingers were digging into my shoulders, and I felt blood leak from one of the smaller cuts on my left shoulder, but I still didn't move. "No, you don't get to bloody do that. You don't—not after everything, everything you told me, everything I did for you and you—you—you call me and—"

His words ended in a choked cadence of pain, and I felt tears pricking my eyes as I carefully wrapped one of my arms around his shoulders, the other balanced precariously on the crutch. "I'm sorry." My voice was toneless in shock and pain and—and something else, because—because it was Tom. And Tom was here.

"You don't get to be bloody sorry," he said, and the words were almost inaudible. "I thought you were dead. All you said was Cookham. Do you have any bloody idea how big Cookham is? And you act like—like I'm just going to accept it and move on? Just say, oh, yeah, you too, great mate, you, and hang up on you and leave you to die? You don't get to die, Alex, you—you son of a bitch, I still can't believe you did that to me. God, I'm so mad at you…"

I could hear the tears in his voice then, and a wave of soul-crushing, heart-wrenching guilt flooded me as I thought about what would've happened if I'd…if I'd succeeded.

What would have happened if Tom had scoured the city, only to turn up at this flat and find out from L-Unit that…that I'd died? That I'd killed myself and he was the last person I'd spoken to, the only one who knew? I couldn't—I couldn't imagine how—

The guilt was enough to make my knees weak, and Tom went from crushing me to supporting me. "Alex?" His voice was tight with panic, but I was too busy drowning in my own guilt to hear him.

"I'm so sorry," I choked out, and I felt—I felt something break. Inside me. Deep, deep inside me, because…Tom knew. He knew everything. He knew about MI6, about Sarov, and Cray and Grief and Sayle, and my crush on Sabina, and how I'd wanted to be a famous football player when I was in primary school, and SCORPIA and Drevin, and my parents, and how I'd kissed Alexa Diaz behind the football bleachers in Year 8, and—and he was the only one, and it felt so good to know that he was still here.

And that I was still here.

"I'm so, so sorry," I said again, and it was building and swelling, the grief and the agony and the relief, and eventually, we had to sit. My legs wouldn't hold me anymore, and the bullet wound throbbed. And he sat on the floor of the strangers' flat with me as I cried, as I cried and I think he cried because I'd almost died and Tom was here and—and…

And it was so much more than just enough.

I continued to pour out apologies, and Tom didn't tell me it was okay, because it wasn't, and he knew it, and I knew it. He didn't let go of me, and I felt him shaking, and I heard him sniffling. And he'd really thought I was dead, and I really thought I was going to die, and—and the full force of that finally hit me when he showed up at the door in the middle of the night, demanding that strangers—trained SAS soldiers—answer his questions, or he wasn't leaving.

And I wondered how I'd possibly survived the past year without him at my side.

Bear and Lion and Tiger didn't say a word. They just watched us as we fell apart in their foyer, and I couldn't even be upset about it.

"Jerry says you're a bloody idiot, and he's going to deck you next time he sees you," Tom said as he hung up the phone, accepting the mug of tea from Bear with a grateful smile. "And that he's glad you're okay. I didn't tell him you weren't, because he's stressed enough as it is. And I'm going to deck you myself once you're better."

I smirked, and my eyes were still itchy and red, but I couldn't fathom that Tom was sitting with me on L-Unit's sofa drinking tea. It wasn't something I'd ever thought would happen. "You're still living in Italy with him?"

"Mm-hm," he said mid-sip, pulling back at the steaming heat. "Ow. Shit. Yeah, Mum and Dad are still in the trenches. I actually think they've run off two sets of neighbors with their yelling. An idiotic marriage counselor suggested they try working things out, and that's going well."

I smiled as I watched him talk, animated and lively, accompanied by gesticulations that bordered on manic. The gestures and his tone and his expressions were so familiar that it almost seemed like nothing had changed. It was nice to know that he could still go from yelling at me one minute to joking with me the next. Our fights never lasted long, and it left a warm feeling in my stomach to know that it hadn't changed.

I had a distinct feeling I'd be answering for my actions later, but for now, it was…almost normal.

"So you're the Tom from Italy?" Lion asked from the armchair, yawning. Tiger was sat in the other one, and Bear was leaning against the tellie stand, blinking heavily.

"I dunno what you've heard, but it's probably all true," Tom said seriously. "You're Alex's SAS unit?"

"L-Unit," Bear said with a sleepy smile. "I'm Bear. I'm the medic. I have to patch him up much more than I'd like to."

I laughed under my breath as Tom rolled his eyes. "Don't even get me started. Al's a trouble magnet like you've never seen."

"Oi," I laughed, and it hurt, and it felt good. "I'm not that bad."

"Oh, you lying bastard," Tiger muttered, glaring at me. "You've been nothing but trouble." Two months ago, the comment would've unnerved and annoyed, but all I did was smile. I was glad Tiger and I had come far enough to make that easy.

Tom snorted. "Yeah. What's your name?"

"Tiger."

"Ah. Makes sense. Suits you."

Tiger lifted an eyebrow as Lion chuckled under his breath, stretching again. "I'm Lion. Nice to meet you, Tom."

"You, too," he said with a smile. "Sorry I yelled at you. I'm bloody tired and this is, like, the fiftieth flat I've been to."

"Did you plan to check every flat in Cookham?" I asked incredulously, sipping my own tea.

"God, no. I think you forget sometimes that I am street smart. You said you were in Cookham with an SAS group, so I figured you wouldn't have a house, because you're rarely in it, so I called all the apartment buildings in Cookham and asked if they had any all-male flats who gave off military vibes. You'd be amazed what people will tell you when you call and say you're taking a survey for Cambridge's social science division."

I almost choked on my tea, I laughed so hard. Tom really didn't change.

Tom grinned as I continued laughing under my breath, saying, "Yeah, and so I wrote all the locations down. Jerry loaned me money for the red-eye into London, then I took the train here and started checking off boxes. I got this stumbling across what I think was a meth lab," Tom pointed to the bruise on his cheek, showing it off like a battle scar, obviously very proud of his war wound. "I called the cops on them. Apparently they'd been smuggling drugs out of that dump for years. So I did a service.

"And then I found this one, and Tiger and Lion yelled at me. Sorry for breaking into your flat, by the way."

Lion waved a hand, smiling as he watched the scene. "Just don't make a habit of it."

"Wouldn't dream of it," Tom said, tentatively sipping his cooling tea. "Al, what's your code name?"

"Hm? Oh, my SAS codename? Jaguar. They call me Jag a lot, though."

Tom snorted. "Oh, mate. That's way too cool for you. You'd be…I dunno, maybe an Owl, or something. You're always super quiet, but then you say something that just shocks the whole room into silence, and then you don't know how to deal with the attention."

I grinned. God, I'd missed Tom. "And you're the expert on owls, are you?"

"Oh, like you're the expert on jaguars? Jaguars are awesome."

"And I'm not?"

"You are, and I know you're too humble for your own good, but I'm not going to let you develop an ego. I'm being a good friend."

I laughed again, and it was so easy. I hadn't laughed this much in a long time. Since before Jack, since—well, since Tom. "You're mad, you know that?"

"With pride," he confirmed, taking another sip of tea. "I'm really glad you're okay, though. You really scared me."

I sobered, my smile dropping slowly, and looked down. "Yeah. Yeah, I'm…I'm sorry, mate."

"You should be. I'm glad you called me, though. Otherwise I probably wouldn't have seen you until your bloody funeral, and then I would've had to die and haunt you forever."

I smirked, but it was a little more subdued than before. "Sounds like you."

Silence washed over the room, and Tom took another sip of tea.

"Okay, well, it's been lovely," Bear said, stretching his back and stumbling to his feet, looking exhausted. "I'm going to bed. You've been keeping me up way too bloody much," he said with a look in my direction. "Don't get hurt anymore."

I smiled, grateful for all his help and support and concern. "I'll try. Thanks."

"I second that," Tiger said. "G'night. Don't destroy the place, please."

"Oh, do you mind if I…crash on your sofa?" Tom asked a little hesitantly over the rim of his mug, glancing between the three SAS soldiers towering over him.

Lion sighed, good-natured and patient, and God I didn't deserve them. "Of course. I've never seen Jag laugh this much. We might need to keep you around."

I blushed, looking quickly away, and scratched my ear. "Geez, Lion."

Lion laughed, ruffling my hair. "Don't stay up too late."

I raised an incredulous eyebrow, but he just smirked before continuing down the hallway.

"Oh, you have a built-in nanny," Tom said as Lion and the others left. "That's good. You need some supervision." He paused, his brow drawing taut in thought. "Speaking of which, what happened to Jack? Did she end up back in America?"

I'd…been expecting the question, but it didn't make it any easier to hear. I shifted, looking down, and set my tea on the ground by the sofa, hissing as my leg and side wounds pulled. "I guess I…I should catch you up, mate."

And I did. It took…a long time. Well over an hour. I started with Cairo, and Jack, and Tom was shocked into sympathetic silence, unexpected grief stealing his words. I knew he'd really loved Jack. I kept going, telling him about Sabina, and Tom put a hand over his mouth and looked at the blank tellie, white as a ghost. And then I told him about the homeless shelters and how awful it was being alone, and how many times I'd wanted to call him, and how many times I'd convinced myself he was better off without me.

He smacked my good leg, then let me continue.

I told him about the grueling selection process, about L-Unit, about how awful it had been in the beginning and how incredible it was now. I told him about Hollis, and Tom's eyes clouded with horror and murder before I edged past the subject, and then I told him about the sepsis and the conversation in the hospital with L-Unit, including how I'd mentioned him.

I continued on to tell him about my recovery here, and how much I'd gotten to know L-Unit. I told him small things about L-Unit. I didn't want to spill their secrets or compromise their trust in me, so I kept the private things private. Instead I told him about what an amazing Lion leader was, and how I wanted to be something like him in time. About how he'd been so amazing and supportive and kind.

I told him about Tiger, and how I'd punched him in the jaw at the beginning, and how we regularly got coffee and talked about nothing, now. I told him about Bear, and how he'd been so helpful after my nightmare and during our time in that dirt cellar, and how he went to the youth center all the time. I told him about how much I'd come to cherish them and this place, and Tom smiled.

And then I told him about K-Unit. I laughed when he scowled, remembering all too well my less-than-stellar description of them after my first round at Brecon Beacons, but he was pleased to hear they'd grown up some. I wouldn't be trusting them with much, other than Fox, but…at least we had somewhere to start, and that was enough for now.

I paused, then, and worked up the nerve to tell him about the SCORPIA assassin and…and my thoughts after receiving the letter. The words came quickly, and I rushed to spit them out before I could change my mind, picking at the hem of my oversized t-shirt and looking resolutely at the blanket in my lap.

I paused again, glancing up when he didn't say anything. His eyes were blank, and Tom was…well, he was one of the most expressive people I knew. Seeing his expression so blank was…unsettling.

"You tried to…to kill yourself?" He asked quietly, his eyes narrowing the slightest bit.

I took a settling breath, nodding once. "I…I thought about it. And then I was going to, but…" I smiled a little, remembering the irony. "I was…hurt too bad."

"And you called me to…"

I shifted. "I knew that…that no one would know to tell you, that I was gone. And I figured…I'd left you hanging long enough. I'm really, really sorry, Tom. I didn't…I didn't want to die, I think. I think I just…" I hesitated, shaking my head and pushing my bangs back. "I just wanted it to…stop. I was tired of running, and I was afraid I'd have to…to run again, after the assassin. I'm still afraid I'll have to. But…"

I shrugged, glancing over my shoulder at the hallway, smiling. "I don't know. I don't think they're going to let me. I don't think you are, either."

"You bet your arse I'm not," Tom said, his voice thin and watery and uncertain. "Al. Why did you—why did you let it get so bad? Why didn't you call me?"

He echoed his words from that night, and I shrugged, guilty and uncertain and nervous. "You got shot, Tom. That's not…that's not something you just forget about."

"…so? Chicks dig the scar. I can't tell you the number of girls' phone numbers I've gotten from this thing." He patted his left leg just above his knee. His smile was much dimmer than usual.

I smiled a little, too, but we both knew he didn't have anything to refute my statement. "I dunno, Tom. I just…after Jack and Sabina…it seems like I'm not really meant to have…have those things, you know? A home, and…and family."

"Stop right there," Tom said, eyes narrowed and resolute, a complete shift from the uncertain kid he'd been just seconds before. "If you need to, you can always come stay with me and Jerry. That's a home. Literally, you clueless, ignorant bastard. And…and I feel like I graduated from friend when I, you know, helped you BASE jump into a terrorist cell."

I smirked, but my mind was reeling from the words, because…Lion had said them, a variation of them, but coming from Tom…they just meant a lot more, because Tom knew what he was signing up for, and he was offering to anyways.

Tom glanced at the pictures on the wall and looked around the living room. "Plus, they seem like really cool blokes. Super badarse. And they seem to care a lot about you, and you seem really attached to them."

I smiled. "Yeah."

"Yeah. Case in point. You need to get it through your thick, idiotic skull that you don't get to choose whether we're in your life or not. I feel like I proved that. And next time you want to ghost me, Alex, I'm actually going to turn you into a ghost."

I laughed, feeling warm, and…and loved, and…happy that I was alive. Truly. "How long did it take you to come up with that?"

"Oh, you don't understand," he said, raising a hand in testament, readjusting himself. "I spent the entire 3-hour plane ride and then the 2-hour train ride drafting the eulogy I was going to read at your funeral after I murdered you. That was, maybe…I dunno, forty minutes in. I got creative after that."

I grinned, and it felt so amazing to just be able to…talk. To talk properly and not have to worry about what was being said, or what I was giving away, or how much I was letting slip. To talk and know that Tom knew it all, and he would accept it all, and he would remain there after I'd said it all.

Tom was…well, he was Tom. And…once again, I didn't deserve him at all.

"…thanks a lot," I said quietly, nudging his knee with my foot to get his attention. "For coming. For…for being willing to come out here in the middle of the night and…and literally search Cookham for me."

Tom paused, glancing at me, and rolled his eyes. "Please, Al. If I'd made that call to you, you'd've stormed Naples with representatives from ASIS, the CIA, MI6, India, the SAS…mate, you would've brought the UN down on that city to find me. I know you would've."

I shifted, blushing, but he wasn't wrong. Had our roles been reversed…I would've torn Naples apart.

"I wasn't going to leave you on your own," he said, his tone rigid in finality. "Not a chance. And I'm not going to do it now, so…so you can't leave. Going AWOL or…or dying. Promise me, right now."

I looked at him, and his eyes were unusually dark, absolutely serious, and afraid. Fear boiled behind the steel in his blue eyes, and I realized he was very, very serious, and…and it felt so good to know that he still cared that much.

I'd met Tom when we were eight. I'd stumbled across him as he was being mercilessly teased by three eleven-year-olds. I was quite small for my age, but Tom was tiny—he had no chance. I'd started karate at five, so I knew a few things, and…well, I really couldn't leave him there.

I'd stepped in, shown off a few karate moves on one of the bigger boys, which had sent him straight into a fit of tears. He'd limped off with his two friends. Tom had been resolutely fighting back tears, but he looked…somewhat awestruck, and it'd made me uncomfortable. I soon discovered that it was his first day at my school, and he happened to be in my class. I offered to walk him, and asked him if he liked football.

Eight years later…he was making me promise not to die. Not to leave. Not to give up. Sitting on a stranger's sofa, burdened with the knowledge of everything that I'd been through, and he was still here.

I supposed it only fair that…that I stay, too.

When we were ten, we'd quickly decided we'd be best mates forever. Unfortunately, the phrase was far too girly to be acceptable, so we put the sentiment into a handshake of sorts. We'd slap our right hands together twice, bump our fists together sideways, and then touch our third and fourth fingers to our palms (as our mutual favorite superhero was Spiderman).

We hadn't done it in years, quickly outgrowing the childish routine. However, I smiled a little, and put my hand out.

Tom's eyes lit up with a mischief I'd missed, and he knew exactly what to do.

I laughed at the end, the routine bringing me back to much happier, much simpler days, when my biggest worries were of whether or not Jack would burn dinner or Ian would be home when I got there. When Tom and I would spend hours in the park with our other friends, playing footie or snooker at the local recreation center.

The routine was my answer, and Tom knew that.

"Thanks for being here," I said, smiling, wondering again what I'd done to deserve him.

He shrugged. "Where else would I be?"

And it was such an easy answer, and…and God, I'd missed him.

We talked long into the night, about Tom's life for the past year, about what I might do now that SCORPIA knew where I was, about the girl Tom had his sights on, about his parents' divorce, about how L-unit didn't know my age, and what I'd do after they found out. It was an eclectic conversations that, out of context, would have seemed to come from utterly mad participants.

But it was easy, and…and so much more than enough.

"Alex. Oi. Alex."

That was unpleasant. For once in my life, I was enjoying a dreamless sleep.

"Al. I'm bored, mate. Come on."

Hazily, dredging my mind completely from the bliss of sleep, I opened my eyes.

"I hate you," I mumbled, putting my pillow over my head so I didn't have to see or hear Tom anymore.

"I'm bored, and I'm your guest. Entertain me."

"You're bloody old enough to entertain yourself." I wondered if he understood from underneath the pillow. It was a tossup.

He took the pillow, despite my adamant resistance, and tossed it to the foot of the bed. "I made breakfast."

"And we're not all dying of smoke inhalation?" I asked incredulously, levering myself up carefully, hissing at my stitches pulled. "Ow, shit."

Tom paused by the door, looking back. His eyes were worried. "Are you okay?"

I waved a hand, carefully lowering my injured leg to the floor before grabbing my crutches. My knuckles and wrists hurt like hell, but I wasn't going to spend two weeks in the bed, so this was my only other option. "I'm fine. Just got…well, kind of stabbed. But only a little."

Tom looked at me with absolutely no reaction, blinked, and looked at the ceiling, a long-suffering sigh falling from his lips. "Give me grace. Bloody hell, mate, did you turn into a bulls-eye when I wasn't looking?"

I shrugged, smiling a little. The familiar banter was nice, and easy. "Are the others awake?"

"Lion and Tiger are," Tom said, waiting for me as I limped over to him, watching me like a hawk as I made my way carefully down the hall. "Or Danny and Sam. That feels better than calling them animals."

I laughed under my breath. "I don't know if I'll ever be able to think of them as anything but Lion and Tiger, but knock yourself out."

"Morning," Tiger said over his coffee, watching the tea kettle expectantly.

"Morning," I said, wincing as I lowered myself into a chair, lifting my bad leg onto the other open chair for elevation. "Tom said he cooked. Are you feeling poisoned yet?"

Lion laughed a little from behind the newspaper, folding it up as Tom crossed to the stove to finish with something. "No, it was actually pretty good."

"Hm," I said dubiously.

"I get up and slave away in the kitchen for you and you can't even be impressed," Tom said as he put a plate in front of me, complete with scrambled eggs and toast with jam. "I'm slathering everything in butter from now on."

I scowled. He knew I didn't care for butter. "Arse."

"Eat and be grateful."

I sighed, and did. Honestly, it wasn't too bad. The eggs were the slightest bit runny, and the jam-to-toast ratio was a bit questionable, but it was…pretty good.

"Okay," I mumbled through a bite of toast. "I'm impressed. I thought I'd be swallowing egg shells, to be honest."

Tom rolled his eyes, sitting down with his own plate. "Ye of little faith. How do you stand him?"

Tiger snorted. "I wonder sometimes."

I smiled through my bite of eggs, glad that Tom was getting on with my unit. I wasn't worried, really—Tom could get on with just about anybody. I'd always been more reserved, preferring to have a small circle of close friends, so I was never wildly popular. I wasn't overtly disliked by anyone (to my knowledge) until the "druggie" rumor started floating around, but I wasn't much for the spotlight.

Tom could strike up a conversation with a mute and carry it all on his own, if you let him. I couldn't remember him ever meeting anyone that he hadn't gotten on with, at least at first. His quick humor and comedic nature, coupled with the fact that underneath all that he was…genuinely really kind, made every feel at ease around him.

I'd really missed that.

"Alex," Lion said, startling me from my thoughts as I polished off the milk, glancing at him. "D'you mind if K-Unit comes over this afternoon? They texted this morning. Wolf and Fox really want to check on you, and they want to try to get to know us as a unit."

He glanced at Tom. "But if you'd rather wait, that's fine."

"Oh, the famous K-Unit?" Tom said before I could even open my mouth. "No, they're coming over. I have a lot of choice words for those bastards."

Lion blinked, obviously not having expected that, and Tiger shot Tom an affronted look on their behalf. I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing. "Tom, you—you have the social skills of a politician, and then you turn around and say something like that, and I'm reminded that you probably have no idea what the word tact means."

Tom shrugged. "Best mate, you should really be used to all the contradictions in my personality by now."

"I'm—I'm lost," Lion admitted, glancing between me and Tom. "Did we miss something?"

At the same time I opened my mouth to tell them they hadn't missed a single thing, Tom said, "Oh, when Alex went to Brecon Beacons the first time, K-Unit were a load of arseholes to him. Seriously. They sucked."

"God, Tom," I muttered, dragging a hand down my face.

"What? You said they knew!"

"You didn't have to embellish it!" I took a deep breath. "Seriously. We're fine now. Eagle and Snake really ignored me, for the most part, and so did Fox. I got to know him better…later. Wolf, too. Wolf was kind of an arsehole, but I got him back, and now we're even and on good terms. Really. There's no problem."

I wouldn't be spilling my life story to them anytime soon, of course. I didn't trust them much as a unit, save Fox. But…working with them, I could probably handle.

Tiger eyed me dubiously, but Lion's eyes were overtly suspicious. "No, I don't like that they didn't treat you well. I don't want you to have to work with them if you're not comfortable with it."

"I was kind of dropped on them without warning," I provided, feeling my face heat and my heart race. I put my hands under the table to hide the shaking. I didn't like where the conversation was headed, and made a mental note to murder Tom later. "Seriously. We really are fine now. Promise."

Lion still looked dubious, but I thought some of it may be because he and Fox hadn't gotten on right away. "Fine. If you're uncomfortable, let me know, and we can push it back."

"Oh, I like you," Tom commented, taking a bite of toast. "Thanks for forcing him to acknowledge that it's alright to be uncomfortable."

I put my head in my arms on the table. They were ganging up on me, now.

"My condolences, Jag," Tiger deadpanned, rising when the tea kettle finally started to boil. "I guess you have three mothers now."

Wonderful.

Tom, still jetlagged and horribly exhausted from his trek around the city, crashed in Elliot's room a little while later for a nap. Bear, once he'd finally gotten out of bed, had gone to the youth center for a basketball game between two of the Year 11 teams, and Tiger had some errands to run. K-Unit would be coming for dinner later that night, and for some reason, no one in this flat ever seemed to be able to make a decent grocery run. We'd probably end up getting takeaway, anyways.

I was dozing on the sofa, still exhausted from my injuries and the lingering effects of the sepsis, when I heard Lion sit in the armchair. I blinked awake, stretching as much as I could, wincing at the movement. "Hey."

"Morning," he chuckled, taking a sip of soda. "How're you feeling?"

I shrugged, settling back against the sofa and adjusting my propped leg, hissing at the pain. "In a good bit of pain, but it's getting better."

He nodded. "Good. I cancelled your therapy and PT appointments for the next couple weeks."

"Oh, thanks," I said, surprised. I'd completely forgotten about those.

Lion nodded again, glancing out the window. "We need to…figure out what we're going to tell the Sergeant. Bear swears you'll be cleared for active duty by late January, even with the new injuries, but I want to make sure you can have more time if you need it."

I blinked slowly, glancing at the table, and felt my eyes narrow in worry. "I'm not really…really sure what to tell him."

"Well, we could always say you were mugged," he said, pausing. A small smile curled his lips, and he glanced at me. "You know they'd almost fired the Sergeant six times?"

I blinked. That was…a really high number for such a high ranking government official. The Sergeant of the SAS had almost as much power as the Deputy Head of MI6. "That's ridiculous. Why?"

Lion chuckled, obviously remembering something. "They say—despite his hardarse exterior, of course—that he cares too much about his soldiers. Those times he almost got fired, he was breaking protocol or keeping secrets to make sure his soldiers were alright. He always puts them above the mission, and the brass doesn't like that."

I looked at him intently, and I could already see where this was going. I absently rubbed the bullet wound on my leg, the ache grounding me to the present. "I don't know if I can tell him, Lion."

He nodded. "You don't have to, but…it's an option. I can almost guarantee that he'll know what to do. Or at least, he'll try to support you."

I smiled absently. From what I remembered…well, the Sergeant hadn't been too bad the first time I'd been there. He'd been tough, sure, but no tougher on me than the other soldiers. And I was ninety percent sure he'd let me pickpocket that box of matches.

"…I'll think about it," I conceded, knowing I'd probably never have the courage to talk to the Sergeant about any of this, but knowing that the answer would please Lion.

"That's all I ask. Until then, we'll just…say you were mugged, and you didn't want to file a report. Sound okay?"

"He's going to be suspicious."

Lion raised an eyebrow. "Everything about you is suspicious. This will be another grain of rice in the bowl."

I scowled, but knew he was right, and acquiesced.

"You seem a lot better," he mentioned quietly, looking at me intently.

I shifted under his gaze, but smiled a little. "I…haven't seen Tom in a really long time. I forgot how much I…you know. I really missed him."

Lion smiled. "He's good for you. I've never seen you smile this much."

I laughed a little. "Yeah, he…he can make anybody laugh. He's a little more honest with me, just because I know him so well, but…but with everybody else, I rarely see him not smiling. And he's hilarious. He made Ian laugh a lot after he'd been around a while. Ian didn't laugh much, unless it was with me and—"

I stopped, the name dying on my lips, and looked away. Pain flared in my chest, and I took a deep breath, feeling my cracked ribs protest. "…and Jack. I haven't…told you about her yet."

Lion's face was intrigued, but his eyes were calm. "Do you want to?"

After a second of hesitation, weighing my options and taking stock of my mentality…I shook my head. "Not…not now. Soon."

Lion nodded, smiled. "Okay then. When you're ready."

I smiled gratefully, leaning back against the sofa. "Thanks."

There were a few seconds of silence, and I relished the knowledge that Tom was just a few meters away. It was a surreal feeling, even after having him here for so many hours, and…and I could get used to it. I knew he wouldn't be able to stay, but…I supposed I…I could talk to him again. Call him, and text him. Maybe visit, if things ever settled down.

It felt like so many doors had been opened, and the future looked just a little brighter.

"He's really small for a nineteen-year-old," Lion commented absently, glancing towards the hallway.

That was good. He missed the look of panic the contorted my features before I got a handle on things, remembering that Tom and I had planned for this question."

"He's almost seventeen," I provided, which was true. His birthday was five months before mine, and he turned seventeen in March. "I got held back, so I was a year above him in school. We were on the football team together, and I set some bullies straight for him on his first day."

I hoped the lie was believable. I hated lying to Lion, but…well, the alternative was much more debilitating.

"Oh," Lion said, looking satisfied.

My gut writhed. Too easy. The lie was bitter.

But it was one crisis averted, and I wasn't going to complain.

I heard Tom come out of the room a few minutes later. Lion had turned on the tellie, and we'd been watching in silence; Tom made enough noise for a hoard of elephants, and made himself known as soon as he stepped into the living room.

"Al, the next time you make me search a city for you, I'm going to make you stay up for forty-eight hours and you tell me how it feels," he griped, plopping next to me on the sofa. "You suck."

Lion chuckled as I rolled my eyes. "You know my record is three days. That's easy."

Tom pursed his lips. "Then I'm going to make you run a marathon and then stay up for two days."

"I'm quaking."

Tom yawned and shoved a hand through his spiky hair, looking utterly exhausted. "Is K-Unit here yet? Because after I yell at them, I'm going back to sleep."

"You're not going to yell at an SAS unit, Tom. They could snap you like a twig."

Tom glared at me. "Please. They have to catch me first."

I laughed, and Lion laughed, having been listening. And it felt like my worlds were colliding in an earth-shattering, devastating collision, and when the dust and ash finally settled…it felt like something new had been made. Something…something good.

Because if Tom was my past, and Lion and L-Unit and maybe even K-Unit were my present…well, the future didn't look so bleak anymore.

A/N: Hi um where can I buy a Tom I need one. Everyone needs a Tom.

*Oprah: YOU get a Tom! YOU get a Tom!*

Hehe yeah anyways. TOM! I hope you love him as much as I do! And Alex the BABY he's so happy to have his best mate back I loooooooooove them so much. Let me know what you thought!

Um. I got. Over thirty? Reviews? That's WILD. Thank you SO MUCH: scarlettmeadows, Guest, Gabrielle Nightingale, ElNonie, Em0Wolf, Guest, Charlie, Guest, Guest, Dobby and Padfoot, Guest, Deeecode, onedemoniclily, Gwennwyfar, Riderkitty, Buddels, aSkyFullofStarz, AlexRiderFan, Night Riders, Simitria, Momo2244, Padfoot's Marauder, CortanaCordeliacarstairs, Johanna, ClarenzaK, reginamare, Weirdo, Ichigo1217, Guest, Guest, Fangtasia21, and Asilrettor!

Guest (This is a really great story and I love…): Ahhh thanks so much! Lol no he is definitely not that

Em0Wolf: Ohhh camping, nice! And hahaha thanks s much! Yeah K-Unit got the shock of their lives. And TOM! Sweet boy. Well he's sixteen by now, so that helps a little, and the partners in crime came up with a believable lie, so…we'll see what happens ;)

Guest (Will this be Tom/Alex): Nope! Just friendship :) I'm not huge on writing romance. Thanks for the question!

Charlie: LOL glad I made you laugh XD and okay, thanks! Hahaha thanks! Omg no I ADORE long reviews, make it as long as you want!

Guest (Thank you so much for the new chapter): Ahhhh thanks so much! I know Bear's a precious love. Hahahaha Alex is so blasé about it now he's just like "yeah that's how it be" I know TOM! He does omg I'm glad he's here I love him

AlexRiderFan: *cries* omg thank you for saying all that bc that's exactly what I'm going for. Thank you so much. God bless you too! And TOM I know!

Cortanacordeliacarstairs: Hey! Yeah, he's not going to stop his progress with L-Unit, but he'll definitely be keeping things close to the vest around K-Unit for a little while. Hehehe hope you liked all the Tom XD

Johanna: Ahhh vielen Dank! Ich weiß, Löwe ist so schützend, Bär ist so schützend, und Tiger ist ein Ball von Flaum. Alex verdient die Welt. Hehe du hast mich ;D Danke! Ich kenne den armen Tom...Danke!

Reginamare: I KNOW TOM! Haha you didn't, no worries! And no I love getting suggestions! If I don't think it'll work I won't use it, so no worries, give me all the suggestions! Hahaha thanks so much! SAME. Hahaha I agree!

Weirdo: AHHHH I'M SO GLAD! Of course, they really do! I know everyone's the best, and Bear is PRECIOUS. I know I love Elliot! I didn't think I'd be mentioning him so much, but I'm realizing that he was a huge part of their lives, so I have to XD I know Yassen and Ian and that whole dynamic just completely flabbergasted Tiger XD Tiger's a ball of fluff. And TOM IS THE BEST I KNOW! Ahhhh thanks so much, and I hope this was enough Tom for you XD

Guest (Hi! I am curious if you'd be willing to share some of your favorite books…): …I read this and honestly almost cried because…omg that was so sweet. I really want to write novels one day and the fact that you would want to read them is…so encouraging. Thank you, really. And of course! I REALLY love Percy Jackson (my favorite book series) and I really like I Am the Messenger by Marcus Zusak. Riders by Veronica Rossi is AWESOME. I also really like Six of Crows, and the Nancy Drew series XD I LOVE the Sherilyn Kenyon books, and the Michael Vey books, and…well, I love a lot of books. ALSO THE IRON FAY SERIES BY JULIE KAGAWA IS INSANE. Hope this'll help you for a while! Thanks so much again :D

Guest (Please update): Here you go!

Deeecode (Please update soon): Here you are!

Fangtasia21: Hehehehe not quite yet, but we're getting there XD

As always, you're all amazing and wonderful and sweet and encouraging. Thanks :)