Warning: Bad words in Spanish. (?) And two in English.
I wandered the familiar streets of London for a while before I sank onto a bench, exhausted and scared and upset. I was too tired to worry about being recognized.
It was a hotheaded move to walk out on my therapist, and I knew I'd probably pay for it later. I wouldn't clear me if I'd done something like that. Maybe I could convince the Sergeant to let me back on active duty anyways, once I was physically healed, or I'd bite the bullet and apologize, BS my way through another session, and convince Dr. Hash that I was, in fact, a level-headed human being.
I sighed, messing with my phone. I wanted to ring Lion, or Tiger, or Bear, and talk. I wanted to tell them that I kind of wanted them to come back, because I missed them, and I felt safe with them. I wanted Lion to recognize that I'd had a shitty session and take me to get ice cream like I was six years old, even though it would piss me off, and he'd just smirk and drag me along. I wanted Bear to nag me about my medications and my stretches, even though I'd roll my eyes in exasperation. I wanted Tiger to sit in comfortable silence with me and read like he did on my bad days.
But they were working. And I couldn't be with them, and they couldn't come back.
From memory, from years of dialing the number and knowing it by heart, I dialed Jack's number.
It went straight to her voicemail, and the sound of her voice broke me. I sat there on the bench amidst the writhing crowds around me, in the icy cold, and fractured apart. The world spun on without me as I shattered, a tragedy inside a fast-paced world with no time or desire to stop and accommodate me. I was an insignificant blip in the universe, and time was unemotional in its campaign forward.
Hey, you've reached Jack! Leave a message after the beep, and I'll get back to you.
So unemotional. So…impersonal. The tone sounded, and I couldn't form words for a moment.
"Hi, Jack," I managed after several seconds of staticky silence, as if I expected to hear her voice again. "I…um. I just…I miss…I miss you."
I took a shaky breath, letting the cold center me, and continued. "I, um…I sent flowers. To your funeral. Sabina helped me pick them out. I don't know if…if they ever got there. But…I sent them."
More staticky silence.
"I just, uh…I—"
The dial tone beeped, signaling the end of the conversation. If one could call it that.
I let my hand fall bonelessly and let my phone hit my lap. I wondered what my unit was up to. If they were safe, or fighting. If the watch would end up being helpful. I wondered how I was going to survive two weeks without them if I couldn't even go three days without falling apart.
Because I was. I was falling apart like the crackling ice at my feet.
"I'm not okay," I whispered to no one in particular, listening as the words were stolen by the icy wind.
My phone rang.
For a horrible, gut-wrenching, shattering second, I thought Jack was returning my phone call.
I looked. It was Eagle. I ignored it.
He rang again five minutes later, and I ignored it again.
Ten minutes later, Fox called. I ignored that, too.
He called again. I turned my notifications off.
There was a coffee shop across the street. I stood, slipping on the ice for a second before I got my balance, and hobbled exhaustedly to the crosswalk, my eyes glued to the opposing rooftops as the sign blinked green for pedestrians. Nameless, faceless individuals moved around me, but I waited to be sure, and then I let myself cross.
I breathed a sigh of relief as I entered the cozy little shop, hit by a blast of warm air. It was a nice little place. Earth-tones and lacquered, rich wood decorated the inside, sleek black counters wrapping around the bar and kitchen. The rest of the area was open space devoted to tables and armchairs. A stone fireplace with fake flames lit up the far side of the shop, and only two of the several tables were taken. One was occupied by a woman typing furiously on a laptop, the other was occupied by a young couple giggling over steaming coffee mugs. Soft jazz played from speakers in the ceiling.
"Hello," a barista said from behind the bar as I shook snowflakes from my dark hair. She was older, probably in her forties, with greying blond hair and laugh lines around her eyes. "Can I get you something?"
I patted my pockets, but I didn't have any money on me. "Can I just warm up?"
"Of course," she said. "Take whatever's open."
I took a leather armchair by the frost-bitten window, far from the other patrons or the bar, sinking into it and relishing the warmth around me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. I was so tired.
A few minutes later, I made myself open my eyes, afraid I'd doze off if I let myself rest too long, and looked out the window. I wondered what kind of baggage the people who passed the window carried. I wondered if it was better or worse than mine. I wondered if it mattered.
A clink on the table in front of me startled me, and I turned quickly to see a mug of black coffee and some sugar packets. "On the house, love," the barista from before said with a smile. "You look like you could use it."
My first instinct was to refuse, because she might be trying to drug me. I hated that her act of kindness was tainted by that thought.
"Thank you," I said with a plastic smile. "I appreciate it."
I sipped on it, letting it warm my insides, and dug out my phone again. I had a multitude of calls, mostly from Eagle and Fox, and a rather threatening text message from Wolf. Snake sent a message asking if I was okay. Fox sent a message saying that he was going to track my phone again.
I rang Tom.
It rang four times before he picked up. "Hullo?"
"Hi."
"Hey, mate. You alright?"
I swallowed, and breathed. "Um…no. Not…not really."
The shift in his tone was immediate. "What's wrong?"
I breathed again, shakier, and I could feel myself warring with the swirling emotions in my stomach. "I don't know how much longer I can do this, Tom."
"Do what, mate? What happened?"
"This," I said quietly. "I just—I don't—Jack's dead, Tom. She's dead. They blew her up. And Sabina died. And it was—my fault. And you got—got shot. And—and you know what else? Bear, Fox, and Wolf all got shot protecting me, too. And everybody was lucky it wasn't fatal, but what if next time it is? Who's next, Tom? Who am I going to lose next? Or will they find me before that? I don't—I don't—"
"Al," Tom said, his voice calm, but trembling the slightest bit. "Al, this is a really dark train of thought, mate. None of that was your fault."
"Yes, it was."
"No it wasn't! It was bloody MI6's fault for shoving you into it all. You didn't choose to get involved."
"I did, though. They gave me a choice and I chose to keep Jack, and she got killed. And then I chose to keep Sabina, because I was naïve and stupid and thought they could protect me. And—and it's all my fault, Tom."
"Alex," Tom said quietly, sounding pained. Wrecked. "Alex, listen. You were fourteen years old, mate. We're still just kids. Of course, you chose to keep Jack. That's what any fourteen-year-old would do after their last living family died. If my parents died, and Jerry was all I had left, I would've made the same decision. I looked up the orphanage they were going to send you to, and it was awful, mate. Accusations of physical and emotional and…and other abuse, every other day, but no one could prove enough to shut it down. I never, ever want you to go somewhere like that."
"But if I had, she'd be alive."
Tom was silent for a long moment. I closed my eyes, feeling uncomfortably hot as caged adrenaline buzzed in my fingertips.
"I am literally researching inspirational quotes about hindsight right now," he muttered.
The comment was so unexpected that I actually laughed, wet and painful and not at all happy, but amused all the same.
"Oh, here's one. 'Forgive yourself for not having the foresight to know what now seems so obvious in hindsight.' From Judy Belmont. Judy sounds like a smart lady. You're not psychic, are you? Is that why you always won when we put bets on football teams for the playoffs? Oh, you sneak, I knew there was something off about it."
I couldn't help the smile that curled my lips as Tom prattled on.
"No, seriously. If you've been holding out on me, I'm going to be pissed. We could've been millionaires by now with the stock market decisions you've been keeping secret. And I'm going to need all the money you won in our bets back, too, prat. OH! And test answers! Oh, you bloody bastard, if that's how you got all your good marks—"
"Tom, Tom," I finally cut in, unable to stop the quiet, reluctant laugh. "I'm not psychic. Stop."
A second of silence. "Oh. See, with how you were going on, I really thought you were. Because, you know, it's one thing to make decisions based on the impossible circumstances you have then, and a completely different thing to make decisions knowing the future. But you didn't know the future, did you?"
Quietly, reluctantly, I breathed. "No."
"No. Nope, you didn't, did you? So why're you beating yourself up for things you couldn't do anything about?"
"Because it's easier than living without control of anything around me," I admitted. At every turn, some choice, some decision was taken away, and…and I supposed thinking that they were my decisions, my choices…even that agony and guilt was easier than living with the fact that I was a powerless pawn in my own life, being checked again and again and again, waiting for the inevitable final checkmate.
Tom was quiet again, for a few seconds. "Um…I don't know which genre of inspirational quotes to search for that one. Oh, let's try control." A few seconds of clacking on his keyboard. "Oh, hell, no. Now I'm on a BDSM website. Holy shit, how do I—get off—oh God, no I didn't mean to click that, oh my God oh my God oh my God nononononono—"
I was frozen in limbo between sympathetic horror and genuine laugher, and I couldn't stop the laugh the burst from my lips as I listened to him flail on the other line. Laughing hurt in ways I never thought I could hurt, it hurt in my mind and my soul because I didn't feel like laughing at all, but it was also warm, and light. It was a pinprick of light in my darkening mind.
"Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God. I'll—I'll never be the same. Oh my God, why would she—she was—and he—holy shit—"
"Tom, Tom," I managed through manic laughter that genuinely, physically hurt, it was so powerful. "Stop, I can't—I can't breathe—" I dissolved into laughter again, and I felt the eyes of the other patrons, but I couldn't stop.
In another couple seconds, Tom was laughing with me through the receiver, and when I closed my eyes, I could almost pretend he was on the other side of the table with his own cup of coffee after a long, cold football practice, and we were laughing at nothing and everything. Ian and Jack were waiting at home, and I would go to bed that night full and safe and blissfully ignorant of the world and its horrors.
For a split second, a sense of euphoria filled me, and dream took hold, and I almost cried at how good it felt.
Our laughter trailed off after a few long, beautiful seconds, and the aftershocks stole my breath and I giggled again, like a little girl. "That was, um…that was hilarious."
Tom breathed shakily, still recovering from his own fit. "Maybe for you. I saw things I never want to see again. Whoever I end up with is going to have to be okay with more traditional bedroom practices, because—no. Just…no."
I laughed again. I still hurt, in horrible ways, but ten minutes on the phone with Tom, and the world was already getting brighter.
"Tom?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks."
"Of course," he said, and I almost cried again, because it was immediate, and genuine. He wasn't asking for anything, and I didn't feel like I had to give him anything, but he was here anyways, taking my baggage and my brokenness and making me laugh on a dark, dark day. "I wish I could do more. I wish I could help more."
"You're here," I said quietly. "You're still here after everything. I don't—that's more than—than a lot of people. Than most people."
"I'm not most people, arse," he griped. "I'm the awesome best mate."
I smiled. "Yeah. You are."
"And if you forget it, I'll beat it back into you. Clear?"
"Clear."
"Good. Now go…call someone to come get you, and then call me back and stay on the phone with me until they get there. If you don't, I swear, I'm boarding another Red-eye, and then I'll have to search for K-Unit's flat, and then I'll be extra mad."
I didn't really want to face what I'm sure was a very irate K-Unit just yet, but I knew Tom would worry until I was in the presence of another human being who knew me. "Okay. I'll call you back in a minute."
"Okay."
I hung up and looked at the spam in my inbox, including a very angry message from Fox telling me that if I wanted to keep disappearing, he'd implant a tracker in me while I slept. I had another message from Wolf that was…too explicit to repeat. A couple from Snake, asking if I was alright, if I needed anything. And a couple from Eagle, who seemed genuinely worried.
I called Eagle. He was closest.
He picked up on the first ring. "Cub? Where are you?"
"Sorry," I said immediately, glancing at the name of the coffee shop. "I'm in Café Noel. I think around Kensington. I'll send you my location."
I took the phone from my ear to send him my geographical location, seeing his read receipt.
"Okay, I'm on my way," he said. "Damn, you wandered pretty far, kid. Are you okay? You disappeared. I got there to pick you up and you were gone."
I paused, sipping my lukewarm coffee. "Um…I'm fine. Just…I'll tell you when you're here, yeah?"
Eagle paused, obviously not too pleased, but surrendered. "Okay, fine. Stay on the line with me."
"I promised Tom I'd call him back."
"Oh, the friend from L-Unit's flat? He's a scary little devil."
I chuckled despite myself. "I know. I shouldn't keep him waiting."
"Fine. I'll be there in a few minutes."
"Thanks. I'm sorry."
"Stop being sorry. It's fine. I'll see you in a few."
I hung up and rang Tom back. I didn't much feel like talking anymore, so I let him regale me with the dates he'd had with Rhea so far, who seemed like a very nice girl. She was our age, with coffee brown skin and hazelnut eyes. He sent me a picture—she was really pretty. She spoke fluent Italian and Hindi, and was proficient enough in English, but Tom said he was learning some Italian, too, to make things easier.
If this girl could get Tom to study at all, she was something special.
He'd just gotten to their most recent theatre date when I saw Eagle park very illegally right outside and fight the bitter winds, the chime at the door announcing his arrival. He zeroed in on me, and I informed Tom that Eagle was here.
"Oh, Eagle? I thought you would've called Fox."
"Eagle was closest," I explained, glancing at him. He looked a little disheveled, and I felt my guilt multiply. I was sure he'd been a little miffed that I'd disappeared on him. "I'll call you later."
"Yeah, talk later," Tom said. "Call me whenever you need me. Promise?"
I smiled. "Promise."
"Okay. Bye, mate."
"Bye."
I hung up, and took a second, and looked at Eagle, waiting for him to yell, or get mad, or…well, anything. Instead, he looked at the coffee cup, and then at me. I was sure I looked awful.
"You ready?" He said simply.
I nodded, getting up onto my crutch, reluctant to leave the warmth of the chair. Eagle took my cup to the dish bin, and I thanked the barista again. We made it back to the car before he got towed, thankfully, and set out. Eagle immediately turned on the seat warmers and blasted the heat, turning down the radio.
It was silent for a long time as I waited for the anger, but Eagle just stared ahead as he drove, seemingly calm. Finally, after twenty minutes of silence, which was so uncharacteristic of Eagle, I blurted out, "You're not yelling at me."
Eagle glanced over, confusion on his face. "No. Why would I yell at you?"
I blinked. "Um…I disappeared? Again?"
He shrugged, looking back to the road. "I mean, a warning or location would have been nice, and I was worried, but you're an adult. And you don't seem like you're having a very good day."
I looked away, cringing slightly at the adult comment, and shrugged.
"I'm pretty good at talking, or so I've been told, but I can listen, too," he said after another short stretch of silence. "I don't know your story, and I know you'd prefer it to stay that way for right now, but you can talk about whatever."
Eagle, true to his word, didn't say another word. He didn't look at me, or ask questions, but he left the silence open for the words I needed to say. Problem was, I didn't know where to start, or if I wanted to at all. But I needed to talk. I hated therapy, I hated being analyzed and feeling like I was in a pressure cooker with every question asked, but the secrecy was horrible, and I hated it more.
Still. Maybe if it was Lion, or one of the others, I could talk. But it felt like I'd only just met Eagle, and I wasn't ready for that.
"I don't like therapy," I said instead, leaning my head on the window and closing my eyes as the world blurred by with dizzying clarity.
"Bad session?"
"Yeah."
"Mm," Eagle acknowledged. "It's not my favorite, but I don't hate it. Been in therapy since I was…mm…fifteen?"
I wanted to ask why, but I didn't want to be rude, either. "I did a couple sessions in the States and didn't like it, so I stopped. Now I have to do it here and I like it less."
Eagle smirked. "Yeah. My therapist was named Sarah. She was…not gentle. But it was what I needed." Eagle paused for a second, and I didn't look at him, opening my eyes to watch the scenery blur by. "Yeah. I have GAD. Generalized Anxiety Disorder? Manifested after my friend died in a car crash. I was in the passenger seat, so I had a pretty big survivor's guilt trip going on."
I glanced over, sympathy flaring in my chest. "I'm sorry about your friend."
"It was a long time ago. We were stupid kids. He was sixteen, didn't have his license, but we wanted to go out to some stupid party. We took his sister's car while she was out. We figured it would be fine. Anyway, I wasn't doing great with it, so I went to therapy. Never really cared for it, but Sarah helped a lot. Now I see somebody on base. He's not Sarah, but it works fine."
"Mm," I said, eyes furrowed in sympathy. I knew what it felt like to lose people, and I'd even seen them die, but…I wasn't beside them when it happened. I wasn't within an arm's reach, unable to stop it. "That sucks. I'm sorry, Eagle."
Eagle shrugged, eyes on the road. "Like I said. Long time ago. Besides, sounds like you've had your fair share of losses." I glanced at him, and he smiled sideways at me. "I may be a chatterbox with the best of them, but I know how to listen, too. You talk like someone who gets it."
"I do," I admitted quietly.
Eagle nodded. He didn't speak for a couple more minutes.
"Thanks for not being pissed when I called," I said.
He laughed. "Of course. Snake and I are chill like that. Fox and Wolf are going to murder you."
I scowled. "Lovely."
"Tell you what. Want to kill some time before we go back to the flat? I've still got a bit of shopping to do. It'll give Wolf and Fox some time to cool off. Plus, Snake is probably still studying. I think his exam's…day after tomorrow? I swear, the man can procrastinate with the best of them. Well, he'll be fine."
"I thought he had the memory of a goldfish."
"He does, but you should see him when he gets studying. His memory's scary good for academics."
"Hm," I said noncommittally. "Where do you want to go?"
"Do you like books?"
I glanced over. "Uh, yeah."
"Good. You can help me find something for my little brother. I hate reading."
I laughed a little at the pure disgust in his voice, but didn't disagree. I liked bookstores. They were peaceful places.
We went to one just outside Oxford, a bit of a drive from where he picked me up, but I didn't mind. I liked driving around. It was a small little bookshop nestled at the end of a mall with towering shelves. Christmas lights were taped to several of the bookshelves, casting multi-colored shadows along the hardwood floors.
"What kind of books does your brother like?" I asked as I perused the shelves. I'd felt recovered enough to leave my crutch in the car, and I enjoyed the freedom of walking around without it.
"What do you mean?"
"Does he like fiction, nonfiction? Both?"
Eagle blinked, looking completely lost surrounded by books and journals. "Uh…the printed kind?"
I raised an eyebrow and sighed. I didn't have a bloody clue how I'd become K-Unit's personal shopper, but I supposed there was no helping it now. "Okay, well, how old is he?"
"Twenty."
"Um…if he's studying literature, he's probably read all the classics," I muttered.
"How'd you know he studied literature?" Eagle asked, trailing his fingers along the spines of the books beside him, scanning the titles with interest.
I sent him a confused look. "You said it on the way to London."
"Oh, shit, you actually listened to that?" He asked, eyebrows touching his hairline. "Oh, that was my rambling. Anxiety habit. I do it when I'm nervous, and you were so quiet, I just started talking. I didn't think you actually listened."
"Of course, I did," I responded, continuing to look at the adult fiction titles. There were a lot of new releases I hadn't been able to read. "You were talking."
Eagle didn't say anything, and I didn't ask him to. I didn't see his expression, but he hummed in surprise after a minute, and I continued looking.
"What other stuff does he like? Besides books."
"Um. He never really cared for science. He was into role playing games when he was in secondary school."
"So maybe fantasy…" I scanned the shelves until I found the fantasy titles. "Romance or no?"
"Yes, but he's gay, so probably not traditional romance. He's out, by the way, so it's not a secret you have to keep, or anything."
"He might like this one, then," I said, plucking a red book off the shelf and handing it to Eagle. "The main character's gay. And it's fantasy. The ending is infuriating, but the story is good."
Eagle blinked, then looked at me with gratitude fit for a king. "You're my hero, Cub."
"I think any of the employees could've helped with that," I said with a little smile, perusing for myself. I didn't have any money, but I might try to come back here eventually, so I put some titles away for future purchases. "But I'm glad I could help."
"Do you feel better?"
I glanced at him after a second, thinking about the question. I was still…heavy. Sad. For some reason, with the holidays so close, instead of being thankful for everything I had, it seemed like everything I'd lost was being highlighted in startling clarity. The fact that this would be my first Christmas without Jack. The fact that I'd never even gotten to share a Christmas with Sabina, or my parents. The fact that I didn't even know what Yassen celebrated, if he did at all. The fact that Ian, who'd tried so, so hard to be home for Christmas every year, didn't have that option anymore.
But between talking to Tom, the coffee, the bookshop, and Eagle's distractions…
"…yeah. I think…yeah, a little bit. Thank you."
Eagle smiled. "I'm glad. Distractions always help me when I get slumped. Only for so long, but then you're in a bit of a better place to continue your day, you know?"
Well…it made sense. "Yeah. Thanks."
"Anytime. If you need to talk anymore, you can come to me, yeah? If Tom isn't available, or whatever."
I smiled, and it was probably the easiest one of the day. "Thanks, Eagle."
He patted me on the shoulder and paid for his book, leaving me to ponder his words.
Maybe I had a couple more people to rely on, after all.
…
Fox was mad.
Wolf was furious.
"—of all the bull-headed, stupid, reckless decisions you could possibly make—"
And more things of that nature. Poor Eagle had tried to plead my case, but Wolf wasn't having it. The first thing that surprised me when I walked into the flat was the ridiculously amazing smell coming from the kitchen, and then Eagle telling Wolf to go easy on me, that I'd had a rough session, but he was skirting around Eagle before he could get most of his words out.
I hardly had time to lean my crutch against the wall and take a look around the room before Wolf was raining hellfire on my head in the form of a Spanglish tirade. I stood frozen in the doorway as he yelled, red in the face and pacing the foyer, finally trailing off and muttering in frantic Spanish.
"Maldito idiota, no puedo creer que fueras tan estúpido como para irte por tu cuenta sin nosotros cuando estás siendo perseguido por medio mundo, idiota, Dios qué pasaría si algo hubiera pasado…Dios mio…"
I didn't particularly enjoy getting yelled at, but the concentration required to keep up with Spanish and English was enough of a distraction from his message that I could stand it.
"Lo siento," I said eventually, and he stopped, glancing at me.
"¿Hablas español?" His eyes were suspicious.
"Sí."
"Oh. Well, good, you understood everything, then. Damn idiot. Get the hell in here. Have you eaten today?"
I blinked at the sudden change of topic. "Um…coffee."
"Son of a bitch, you're as bad as Snake. Go eat. Malditos bastardos, sacándome de mi maldita mente. Ai, Santa Maria…"
I blinked again, frozen as Wolf stormed to his room and shut the door so hard the picture frames on the wall shook, and I flinched.
"You might want to come eat before I rescind Wolf's offer," Fox said, eyes dark. "What the hell were you thinking, disappearing again? Once wasn't enough?"
I was going to answer him, but my words were stolen as I entered the kitchen. "Holy shit. What happened?"
There were at least five dishes on the stove wrapped in tin foil, tamales on the counter beside those, and four other sides crammed on the tiny kitchen island. It looked like an explosion of Hispanic and vegetarian. Eagle was already fixing a plate piled high with grilled veggies and tofu.
"Wolf's Hispanic. He cooks when he's worried," Eagle said. "But don't tell him I said that. He likes us to think he isn't human."
I stood still for a second, absorbing that interesting tidbit of information, and hobbled into the kitchen. "Um…okay."
Snake emerged from the bathroom a moment into my making my plate. I wasn't very hungry, and I felt kind of bad that my plate was so sparse when there was so much food, but I figured Snake needed it more than me. He looked like a corpse who'd just crawled out of someone else's grave.
"I heard Wolf yelling," he said tiredly. "I hope he's done. I have to—" He was interrupted by a huge yawn that had my jaw aching in sympathy. "Study."
"You need to go to bed," Fox said with a look, closing Snake's textbook and tossing it into the living room and onto the sofa. "Cub's back safe, everyone's home for the night, so you can quit worrying. You need to sleep."
"I have to—" Another yawn. "Study, though."
"No. Sleep. Now."
Snake looked barely able to blink at Fox, so I wasn't surprised when he nodded in reluctance. "Fine." He turned bleary eyes on me, and I was surprised he could even keep them open with how bloodshot they were. "Glad ye're safe. Quit disappearing." Another yawn. "Okay. I'm goin' to die now."
"See you tomorrow when you respawn," Eagle said through a mouthful of tofu.
Snake disappeared into his room, and a second after the door closed, I heard him flop onto his bed. He started snoring seconds later.
"Is he alright?" I asked with a spoonful of rice halfway to my mouth.
"He'll be fine after his exam. He's always like this," Fox said, eyeing Snake's door. Soon, though, his eyes zoned in on my plate. "You haven't eaten all day, and you're eating two spoonfuls of rice and a tamale?"
I glanced at my plate and shrugged. "I'm not hungry."
Something more like concern than anger appeared on Fox's face, but he just shook his head and sat heavily at the table. "Come sit down. You had PT today, I bet you're sore."
I hesitated, because sitting at the table meant I couldn't easily escape his questions, but he was right about being sore. Reluctantly, I sat, and nibbled on my tamale. Wolf was a better cook than I gave him credit for.
"Why'd you disappear again?" Fox asked, his stare unyielding even as I looked at the table.
I shrugged. "I didn't mean to." Well, that wasn't entirely true. "I mean, I wasn't running off, or anything. I just wanted space."
"Space," Fox repeated with a raised eyebrow. "You wanted space, so you disappeared from your therapy appointment and into the freezing streets of London, ignoring our calls and text messages and only calling Eagle an hour and a half later." He paused for what I assumed was dramatic effect, and I took another bite of rice. "That's a lot of space."
"What do you want from me, Ben?" I asked tiredly, completely and utterly through with everyone's bullshit today. "What do you want me to say?"
"I don't want you to say anything. I want you to understand that you're—" He froze, glancing at Eagle. I assumed he'd been about to say something about my being hunted like an animal by one of the world's most powerful intelligence agencies, of which Eagle didn't know.
Eagle, bless him, took the hint. "I'll disappear for now, but I'm coming back out for seconds in a minute," he said, heading to his room, patting my shoulder on the way. "Don't be too hard on him, Fox, okay?"
Fox rolled his eyes. Eagle sighed, and I heard a quiet tap as his door closed. Well, no one to save me now. I continued to nibble on my tamale, my stomach rolling.
"You know, we can't protect you if we can't find you," he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Like I was a child who didn't understand the world around me, so he had to explain it with small words.
I was too tired to be angry. I'd been angry for so long.
"I had a bad day. I wanted space."
"Bad day? Like how?"
I eyed him. "Bad like I yelled at my therapist after he made me have a panic attack and told him I didn't need his or anyone's help and that I hated therapy, wandered around London until I found an open bench, left a voicemail on my dead guardian's cellphone, called Tom and told him I was not doing well, called Eagle, and came back to be yelled at, and I'm too tired to give a single shit about any of it anymore."
"…so, bad," Fox agreed after a moment, not looking quite as guilty as I would've liked, but not as angry, either. "Why didn't you just call and let us know you needed your space, then?"
I gave him the flattest bitch-face I could muster. "What part of 'bad day' do you not understand?"
He sighed, running a hand through his dark hair, and dragged a hand down his face. "I don't know what to do with you."
"You don't have to do anything with me."
"Obviously I do, because you keep disappearing, and if it happens one day and you're found, what're you going to do then?"
"Figure it out," I said. "I always do."
"That is the first thing that gets people in our line of work killed," he said seriously. "Stop that train of thought right now. You can't do everything alone."
"I have so far."
He stopped after that one, really stopped, and his eyes went blank. Ben Daniels, MI6 spy, was reemerging, and I almost preferred an angry Fox to the blank stare. After a second of locked eyes, he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest. "That's not true and you know it."
I dropped my tamale onto the plate and didn't pay any mind to how the rice bounced onto the table. "Don't you fucking tell me what I have and haven't done. I don't know what you're trying to do, Ben. I trust you. I may even rely on you. That doesn't mean you're my keeper. You said you wondered what happened to me, after Major Yu? You were worried about me? Well, you sure tried hard to find me to see, didn't you?"
I ignored the pale flicker of guilt in his eyes and continued on. "In the past year and a half, I have lost four people who were important to me, and three of them I loved so much it hurt. In the middle of it all, I was thrown into mission after mission, and I met a lot of people just like you who protected me and then left, even though they knew it would just happen again. I don't blame you," I said as he opened his mouth to defend himself, eyes blank again. "That's not why I'm angry. But you don't have to be isolated to be alone, and I've been alone for a long time. So yes, Fox, I've repeatedly done things alone, and I'm not dead, not for lack of fucking trying. Excuse me if I'd like to stick to something familiar rather than lean on you and three borderline strangers."
Fox was quiet for a long time, eyes searching mine for something, anything, but I felt the anger I'd thought I was too exhausted to feel blaze in mine as I held his stare. I dared him to try me again, because I was done. I was done, and I couldn't be done, but I was done.
"What's different about L-Unit?" He asked after a long moment, I suppose trying to go for safe territory. "Don't tell me you feel alone when you're with them, because I know that's not true."
"I don't feel alone with them, because they earned it."
Fox's eyes were blank, but I knew blank eyes. I could see pain, and guilt, that he didn't want to feel. "I know I didn't make all stellar decisions, but I just don't want to see you get hurt anymore, and I'm sorry if I come off a little strong, but that's true. Why haven't I earned it?"
I paused, thrumming my fingers on the table, thinking of Jessie. "You know about MI6, but they know about someone else. Someone bad, and bad things that I did, and they're still around. And—" I paused, and thought what the hell. What did secrets matter anymore? Secrets were useless if the crushed me before I could handle them. "You saved me from other people, and I'm grateful, but they saved me from myself."
Fox's eyes darkened rapidly. "Alex—"
"I'm tired."
"You're always tired."
"Gee, I wonder why."
Fox didn't look happy. Not at all. But he took a deep breath, and he said, "Just…finish eating, then go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow."
Fox left. I did as I was told, and tossed and turned for hours before I realized that I wouldn't sleep, because my mind was running far too quickly to relax. I lay awake in the dark until I finally slipped into a doze filled with gunshots and blood and fire.
…
My phone woke me the next morning. I heard someone in the kitchen, and I was surprised that hadn't woken me up, but I was too distracted by the blood aggravating ringtone to wonder who it was.
I groped for the phone on the other side of the sofa's bed and answered it without looking at the caller ID. "Hello?" I barely recognized my own voice.
"Hi, is this Matthew? It's Bella."
I sat up quickly, wide awake. "Bella? Is Jessie okay?"
Bella laughed quietly, and something in my chest loosened. "Yes, she and her mum are fine, honey. That's what I called to tell you. Vihaan was arrested yesterday, late last night, and is probably going to be convicted of physical and emotional abuse. Mahika and Jessie have been set up in a Women's Shelter, but Jessie insisted on coming back here every now and again, just in case you show up."
I felt warmth bloom in the icy cold depression from yesterday. It wasn't gone, but it was something good, something amazing, and…and I was so grateful that little girl and her mum were safe. "That's awesome. That's awesome. Thank you so much for ringing, Bella."
"Of course. I should be thanking you," she said with a smile. "Someone wants to say hi."
I heard a rustle, then a sweet little voice was floating through the receiver. "Hi—hi, M-Matthew."
I grinned, really grinned, and sat up straighter. "Hi, Jessie. Bella just told me the good news."
"Mm-hm! The b-bad man is g-gone, and…and M-Mum is happier. And m-m-me too."
"I'm really, really glad you're safe, Jessie."
"When c-can I…can I see you a-again?"
I smiled, fond and small, and closed my eyes. If only everyone was as pure and sweet as Jessie. "Soon, I hope. I'll get you a Christmas present."
"Real…really?!"
"Really. Hopefully I can get it to you before Christmas, but if not, I'll see you after that. Okay?"
"O-Okay! Bye, Matthew!"
I smiled and whispered a goodbye even though I knew the phone was already back in transit to Bella. "Her stutter is better."
"It is," Bella agreed, and I heard Jessie say something in the background, then the laughter of other kids. "She's enthralled with you, Matthew. You're all she talks about. She says you're her knight in shining armor, from the fairytales."
I felt a fierce blush in my cheeks. I didn't think I deserved that title, but it was still warm. "Heh. That's a lot of pressure."
Bella chuckled. "I'm sure you can handle it. Um…is Henry still away?"
"Yeah, they left a few days ago," I said, familiar fear humming in my chest before quieting down again. "He'll be back by Christmas, I think, if you want to call then. He doesn't have his phone."
"No, I know," she said hurriedly. It might've been my imagination, but she sounded flustered. "I just—was curious, is all."
I blinked, feeling a smile curl my lips as I bit my lip to keep from laughing. If I was right, based on the hug I saw them share a week ago, the way her voice rose in pitch just now, the way she hesitated before asking…she was either a really good friend, better than I'd thought, or she was head over heels for Henry. I wondered if he had any idea. Probably not.
"I'll tell him to call you as soon as he's back," I offered, trying to keep the smile out of my voice. "Thanks again for calling."
"Of course. Take care of yourself, and come back anytime, okay?"
"Yeah, I hope to come back with Bear around the holidays."
"Great! See you then."
I said goodbye and hung up, letting myself feel happy for the news.
Screw Vihaan. I hoped he rotted in jail.
"Good news?"
I turned to see Wolf in the door to the living room, drying a pan. His eyebrow was raised, but he didn't look mad anymore.
I smiled a little. "Yeah. Really good news."
"Hm. That's good. Who's Jessie?"
I stretched as he returned to the kitchen, following him as I hobbled on my leg, waiting for the pins and needles to disappear. "A girl from the youth center Bear works at. I went with him and helped tutor Jessie a little. She opened up to me about—uh, about her mother's boyfriend, who was abusing them. He was arrested yesterday."
Wolf's eyebrows hit his hairline. I supposed he wasn't expecting that. "Oh. Very good news, then."
I laughed a little under my breath, grateful that he was in a better mood than last night. "Yeah. Thanks for dinner."
"I'm surprised you can call it that. Fox said you ate like a bloody baby bird."
I cringed a little at the remark, but my back was to him as I filled a coffee mug. "I ate enough."
"I haven't seen you eat more than two bites at a time since you got here, kid. I'm Hispanic. If I have to force-feed you, you will gain wait before you leave here. My abuelita will haunt my arse forever if you don't."
I smirked, but didn't comment.
"Eagle told me after you'd gone to bed that you had a rough therapy session."
"Mm-hm," I said, sipping my coffee, unwilling to turn around.
"Well, I wouldn't have been so hard on you if I'd known that."
Ah. Well, it seemed like he was similar to Tiger in that the word "sorry" was forbidden territory, but I knew an apology when I heard one. Besides, I was in a fairly good mood compared to my mope from yesterday, and I didn't want to spoil it five minutes after I'd woken up by telling that Eagle had tried to mention that before he'd turned into the devil. "It's fine."
"Want breakfast?" I opened my mouth. "If you say you're not hungry, I'm kicking you out."
Well, there goes that. "Whatever's easiest."
Wolf's eyes narrowed. "You're like Snake. You're too passive."
I blinked. "Um…I'm sorry."
"That's what a passive person would say."
"Well, excuse me for being passive," I muttered.
"That's more like it."
"God, you're confusing. You yelled at me for ten minutes last night for going for a walk, and now I'm talking back to you, and you're acting like I've won the Nobel."
"It's called banter, chico tonto. You're acting like we're still in Wales. You don't have to be so uptight all the damn time. It makes me anxious."
I sipped my coffee. Well, if he wanted banter, fine. I could banter. "Fine. I want four eggs, two scrambled, two fried. Two pieces of avocado toast. Bacon fried in the pan, not in the microwave. And crème brule, while you're at it."
Wolf sent me a dark look, and I blinked innocently. "I'm sorry, was that not passive enough?"
I thought he might snap and start yelling, or throw something, but the side of his mouth curled upwards. "You might survive your stay here yet, muchacho."
I couldn't help but smile. I liked this side of Wolf. Maybe he wasn't as much of an arse as I thought.
"Cereal is fine, though," I said after a moment. "Depending on what you have."
"Passive again. Look in the pantry."
I rolled my eyes, but did as he said, and came up with a bag of stale Cheerios. "Didn't you just go shopping?"
"I didn't see you pitching in your preferred foods. I'm making eggs for myself, anyways, I'll just make some for everyone."
"Who's the muchacho now?"
Wolf threw his spatula at me.
…
Fox got up a little later, and I felt myself tense as soon as he entered the kitchen. If Wolf saw, he didn't say anything. Eagle ate quickly and left to place his final order for Evie's engagement ring, on which I wished him luck, and Snake didn't even come out of his room. Wolf brought him breakfast so he could complete his home stretch of studying in peace.
With Snake and Eagle out of the picture, breakfast was had in tense silence, and Wolf was looking between us like there was a tennis match behind us.
"Okay, what is it?" He finally said as I took my plate to the sink, surprised at myself that I'd managed to eat everything Wolf kept shoving at me. I was full for the first time in a while. His death-glare may have helped, though. "The atmosphere feels like there's a bloody hand grenade under the table."
"Alex and I had a disagreement last night, and I have more questions," Fox said pointedly.
"Fox is an overbearing tonto who doesn't know when to stop overstepping."
"Oh, please, Alex. Spare em the dramatics."
"I'm not being dramatic. You seem to have it in your head that you need to keep an eye on me at every turn, and you don't."
"Clearly, someone does! Or did you ask an assassin to shoot you?"
"Oi," Wolf said as I heard the plate clatter in the sink, breathing slowly. Flashes of blood and the smell of gunpowder nearly overwhelmed me, but Wolf's voice drew me back. "Fox, I am the biggest bloody arsehole I know, and I acknowledge that, and even I'm saying that was a lot."
"No, he can say whatever the hell he wants," I cut in, turning to lean against the sink, locking eyes with Ben. "Come on, do you have something else to say? I suppose I asked to be hunted, too, right?"
"That's not what I said."
"No, you clearly think I'm incapable of taking care of myself, so what's your big plan to save me, Fox? What's the master plan? Are you going to become the Prime Minister and order them down? You going to storm the Bank yourself? Or will you intercept every threat that comes my way, all by yourself? You seem to think you have a handle on this, so please, I want to hear it."
For once in his life, Wolf actually looked uncomfortable. I never thought I'd see the day, but I was too preoccupied by anger to acknowledge it.
Fox was reflecting my anger like a one-way mirror. Different people, same rage.
"I never claimed to have it all figured out, but you did say you'd be just fine on your own, didn't you?" Fox said, his voice rising in challenge. "Alex Rider, the infallible agent. Make way, folks, other people just slow this one down. If anyone's going to take on the world guns blazing, it's going to be you, don't you think?"
I opened my mouth to start shouting, to say things I'd probably regret, but before I could, Snake's door opened so suddenly and so forcefully I jumped and reached for the gun in my waistband that wasn't there.
"If ye make one more sound," Snake seethed from the kitchen entry, his face as red as his hair, eyes so bloodshot I might've mistaken him for an addict, "I'm goin' to personally murder all of ye. Understand? Because my exam is tomorrow, and I don't know if ye've noticed, but we're kind of in rotation eight months of the year, so I don't get a lot o' chances to take these. So I can get my medical degree. Which I've been trying to earn for eight years. So you lot can bloody well get in the car and drive and shout yerselves hoarse, and maybe, if I pass this exam and get my degree, I can prescribe ye cough syrup, or cyanide, whichever I see fit for the occasion. Am I perfectly bloody clear?"
The scariest part about Snake's threats were that unlike Wolf, or even me or Fox, it was delivered in a voice of deadly calm, smooth as the glassy water in a hurricane's eye. His voice was quiet, and even, and almost toneless.
I was quick to nod in silence. I wasn't about to do a single thing to set the man off further. Luckily, Wolf and Fox seemed to have the same idea, because Snake huffed in acceptance and returned to his room with a slammed door and muttered curses.
It was silent for a long moment.
"…he'll be back to sunshine and dandelions tomorrow after the exam," Wolf explained as he cleared his plate, making sure the dishes made absolutely no noise in their journey to the sink. His volume was suspiciously low. "He's always like this around exam time."
I nodded, unwilling to make a single sound until I was outside this flat.
Fox sighed, seemingly coming to the same conclusion, and grabbed his keys. "Shall we?"
While I didn't want to be stuck in a car with him at the moment, it was better than the alternative.
I waved goodbye to Wolf and said a silent prayer for his safety as we left him alone with Snake.
Fox drove, but he didn't speak, so I sulked in the passenger seat and tried not to feel like the teenager I was. I just…his accusations made me feel so inadequate. Of course I'd taken care of everything myself. I didn't have a choice. And he had the nerve to tell me I was wrong? Oh, well, excuse me, then where had this unseen guardian angel been all this time? I must've missed him between near death experiences five and six.
That awful desolation from yesterday had given way to anger, and I couldn't stop it even if I wanted to.
"What did you mean?" Fox said, suddenly enough that I flinched as the silence shattered. "When you said they saved you from yourself."
Dammit. I shouldn't have said that. "Exactly what it sounds like."
Fox's hands tightened on the steering wheel. "When?"
"Fox—"
"When?"
I took a deep breath and leaned my head against the window, watching the slush sluice into the gutters as we drove. "The day before you showed up at the flat. The day the assassin came."
I pitched forward as Fox slammed on the brakes, panicking for a second as I grabbed the safety handle and the dash, my heart hammering. I heard someone honk and swerve around us, but thankfully we were still on a side street, so that was the only other car on the road.
"What the hell, Fox?" I yelled as I finally got a handle on my racing heart, still tight as a coiled spring. "Are you trying to kill us?"
But Fox was frozen in his seat. His breathing was hard and fast, and his knuckles were white on the steering wheel. His posture was so rigid I thought his spine might snap if he tensed any more. His face was a shade of sick pale, quick enough that I could still see the faint flush in his neck as the blood drained from his face.
I hesitated. He looked like a wild animal. Like he could snap at any moment. "Fox?" I said quietly, afraid to startle him. We were still stopped in the middle of the road. "…Fox?"
Without any warning, he revved the gas and did a one-eighty, and I held on for dear life as the back tires skidded across the icy streets, unwilling to shut my eyes until we evened out and he sped much faster than necessary down the empty street.
"Oh my God, you're going to get us killed," I said under my breath, still gripping the safety handle. "Where the hell are we going?"
"Shut up and let me drive."
I wanted to say something back, anything, but he looked so unsteady I just let him be.
Twenty-five minutes later, we pulled to a stop outside a cemetery. Familiar dread pooled in my gut. I hated cemeteries. Still, I followed Fox down the rows of headstones quietly, shoving my hands in my pockets. I hadn't had time to grab gloves or a scarf, or even my crutch, and I was freezing, my leg aching from the dropping temperatures. My boots crunched on the muddy snow as we continued inward, my spine tingling each time I stepped over someone's grave.
Finally, we came to a lonely little gravestone at the end of one row. It was a simple plaque, silver with bronze trim set in a stone base, and it was pristine compared to the others around it, with fresh flowers in the vase.
I barely had time to stop before Fox was whirling on me, fire in his eyes, enough that I took a started step back. His every move was stilted and jagged, his voice serrated with grief. "You see that headstone?" He pointed to it, and I read the name.
Joseph Daniels. Beloved brother. January 14th, 2002 – December 12th, 2018.
I didn't even have time to process the sympathy before Fox was spinning out again. "That's my brother. My little brother. The kid I played catch with in the yard before going to uni, and the kid I taught to talk to girls and flirt. I was his world until he hit twelve, and then he figured he had to grow up, but he always came to me when he needed help. Always. Every time. So I figured he'd come to me when he needed me. And then he stopped coming, and I figured it was because he was growing up, learning how to deal with his own problems, and I was proud of him for it. And then I got a call from my parents, telling me to deal with my little brother's funeral because he shot himself."
I gaped at him, watching Ben Daniels shake in front of his brother's grave, and he seemed absolutely irreconcilable with the cold man from the dinner table last night. I didn't know what to say. I didn't know what I could possibly say to make this the slightest bit better, so I watched in something like horror as he knelt in the snow and touched the freezing stone.
"He got mixed up with bad people. That was when he stopped coming to me for help. They had him running drugs through his school. He got caught, and my holier-than-thou parents disowned him, and instead of coming to me for help, he shot himself. He shot himself.
"So you're damn well right, Alex. I'm overbearing and overstepping and I'm putting myself in your life because I can't do it again. I'm sorry I didn't try to find you, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. I wanted to. I did. And when I saw you on their sofa, and saw you so hurt…I knew they'd done it again, and I was angry at you, and them, and myself, because I didn't try to help you. And I'm not religious, but I believe in God, and I figured…it was a second chance. To do for you what I couldn't do for him and help you. So I'm sorry, God, I'm sorry, but I get so angry because I don't know if I can do that again, kid. I—"
He stopped, and I shook, and it wasn't just from the cold. I watched for a long minute as Ben put his face in his hands, his shoulders trembling with repressed sobs that I was all too familiar with. I stood pin straight for a long minute, then knelt beside him.
It had been a long time since I'd hugged someone. I'd been hugged, sure, by Angelica and Jessie and Bear that day I fell apart, but…I thought the last person I'd initiated a hug with might have been Sabina. Maybe it was Tom, when he left back for Italy, but I couldn't remember.
But I remembered how Fox was so relieved to see me alive on that mission, and he crushed me to him without a second thought. It felt safe for a second. He was inconsolable, and I was out of practice, but I tried it.
I hesitated for a second, but then I bit the bullet and hugged him, my chin on his shoulder as my eyes blurred with sympathetic tears, because…I never thought I'd see him like this. Falling apart in a graveyard as he begged for a second chance. I couldn't just not do something.
He stilled, but I wouldn't let go unless he pulled away, and he didn't. He turned, and he was hugging me back, and it wasn't so cold anymore.
"I'm so sorry I didn't look for you," he said quietly. "And I'm sorry I yelled. I really am."
I blinked again, and felt tears freeze on my eyelashes with the snowflakes gathered there. "I don't blame you. I promise. I'm sorry too."
"Just…let me help you. I know I might not have earned it like L-Unit, and I'm glad you have them, but just…let me support you. Please."
Ben knew I was sixteen. He was the only one who knew. He knew, no matter how many times I insisted otherwise, that I was a child in over my head and that I was drowning in silence most of the time. He knew I wasn't nearly as put together as I wanted everyone to think I was.
He knew, so I didn't have to hide. In this graveyard, with him, I could be sixteen. I could be broken.
I moved, and put my face against his shoulder, and let myself shake. He tightened his arms around me.
"Okay," I said, broken and ragged.
We stayed there long after my fingers and toes and knees went numb, but the warmth in my chest was too strong for it to matter.
A/N: Muchacho can mean boy, which is how Wolf referred to Alex, but it can also mean servant or maid, which is how Alex referred to Wolf, so it's kind of a double entendre.
I have been informed that it doesn't snow in early to mid-December in England. However, I choose to ignore this meteorological fact because it's pretty. Please and thank you.
Okay. I. Loved. This. Chapter. Please let me know what you thought because I am having SO MUCH FUN fleshing K-Unit out and I love them all so much and I miss L-Unit with my whole heart but gahhhhhhhhhh :D
Also. Hi again! My homework is filing a lawsuit against me for neglect. But I like writing better, haha. Lord, if I could turn out novels as quickly as I do fanfiction, I'd be set. Anyways, hope you liked the chapter! Poor Alex was just kind of having a hard time with the holidays approaching, as we all do after we lose a loved one, and it was really getting to him. But Tom is awesome. And we got to see more of Eagle! I love Eagle, he's a precious little vegetarian. I feel like Eagle is done so dirty in most stories, so I thought I'd give him some love here.
And angry Wolf. Hehe. Wolf is a hothead, but it does come from a place of genuine worry. And he was sweet at the end! He's a big teddy bear. And Fox. Sweet Fox. Poor baby just has no idea how to express his worry, but he's wonderful. Man, I give them such trauma. I suck. Sorry not sorry.
Thanks so much for all the reviews! I know it's only been like a day and a half, lol, but I still had quite a few, so you rock!: WALU1G1, scarlettmeadows, Arc1urus, Guest, M-chanchen, snapshotz, KMER-79, Padfoot's Marauder, Guest, Asilrettor, and Em0Wolf!
Guest (Yess another update…): Awww thanks so much!
Guest (Awww this is so good! How many chapters do you estimate this having?): Hi! Thanks so much! As for your question…I have NO idea about the chapter count, but I'll just go ahead and say the story is probably not even a third of the way done. It's going to be LONG. Like…LONG.
Em0Wolf: Aw thanks so much! I know, watching them all grow is wonderful :D And don't worry! I love L-Unit XD
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Once again, I can't thank you enough for all your support. Thanks so much! Drop a review!
