As overwhelmingly excited as I was to see Lion and Tiger and Bear again, as disproportionately happy as I was to once again have their unwavering support and acceptance, there were still things I needed to do at K-Unit's flat.
It was just a few hours after the witch had fled with her proverbial tail between her legs, and I wasn't too upset about the loss. Despite that, I was pretty sure seeing her, especially without warning, had really rattled Fox. Ruth had come out an hour and a half or so later and apologized profusely to all of us, then left; apparently she'd really only been planning to stop by and say hello, and she was meeting her husband and his family in Gloucester for Christmas proper. She left quickly—she must've been pretty uncomfortable after everything.
I felt like I could breathe a little easier when she was gone, even though Ruth herself was nice, but Fox didn't come out of his room for a long time. I really wanted to check on him, and apologize for stepping in the way I did (not for what I said, but I would've preferred to do it when Fox was comfortable with it) but Snake chose that moment to sit me down.
"Ye're leaving tomorrow, and we still haven't talked about yer eating habits, or lack thereof," he explained when I questioned the sudden approach. I scowled, but Snake just lifted an eyebrow. "Ye were the one who said ye'd be fine exploring some causes and management options."
Well, he wasn't wrong.
For the time being, I pushed Fox from my mind and decided I'd at least try to focus on the conversation, because Snake wouldn't accept anything less. "Fine."
"How gracious of ye," Snake commented. It took every ounce of willpower not to roll my eyes. "Okay, so, there are a lot of reasons ye may never be hungry. It doesn't have to be any of these, but some of the more common causes can be anxiety, depression, chronic stress, chronic illness, medications…things like that. Once we figure out a plausible cause, we can figure out some management options. Sound okay?"
I pondered his words, silently reviewing his list and counting on my fingers. "Oh. That makes sense, then."
"What makes sense?"
I held up four fingers. "Well, I have four of the things you just said."
Snake blinked. "Um…really?"
"I think so," I said, reviewing his words again. "I guess together it would make sense that I'm not eating, right?" I'd rather move on from the topic and get to the heart of the matter, but it didn't seem like Snake was keen to let it go so easily.
"Wait, back up," Snake said, holding up a hand, and I cursed in my head. Damn. I'd really done it now. "You've been diagnosed with…with what, on the list?"
I shifted, shrugging a little, avoiding his eyes. I always felt like I was somehow in trouble when I explained the disorders, though I knew that wasn't right. I knew Snake wouldn't be mad at me, or anything, but I hated the way people looked at me after I admitted that yes, I had a mental disorder or two. I just…hated people knowing.
Still, Snake was asking point blank, and I didn't want to lie to him. I had enough lies and half-truths on my conscience. "Anxiety, depression, chronic stress. I think it was called acute stress disorder, or something. And I think the antibiotic said something about a change in appetite, but I finished that a week ago." I blinked, thinking. "Is insomnia considered a chronic illness?"
"…it can be," Snake said carefully.
"Oh. Then I have five."
Snake was still as a statue for a few seconds before he found words. "Okay. Um…okay. Sorry, I didn't know. Would ye be more comfortable talkin' to someone professional?"
"No," I said, feeling myself shrink a little, though I tried to hide it. This was one of the reasons I didn't like telling people. I always became a broken thing, something far too delicate to be handled by normal people. I became someone to be coddled and handled with excessive care and concern, when the only thing I wanted was normalcy. "We don't have to talk about it. I can figure it out myself."
I made to stand, but Snake fixed me with an unimpressed look. "I didn't say I wouldn't help ye, Cub. I only wanted to give ye the option of a professional, since I don't have my degree yet."
I paused, glancing at him, and held his eyes for a second. He didn't look any different from normal, I supposed. Same earnest stare. Same posture. There weren't any incriminating tics to indicate he was lying or misleading me.
I sat down.
"Okay. Now that we know some potential causes, we can figure out management options," Snake continued like we hadn't skipped a beat. That made me feel a little better. I was well aware that Wolf could probably hear every word from the kitchen, but as long as he didn't say anything—which I didn't think he would, knowing him—I could deal with him knowing.
"Since ye just stopped takin' yer medication, I don't think we have to worry about that very much. Anxiety and chronic stress tend to come with a loss or reduction in appetite, so that makes sense. Insomnia and depression can actually go either way—either yer appetite skyrockets, or it nosedives. When were you diagnosed with all this?"
I think, doing a bit of mental math. "…I don't know exactly. Maybe eight or nine months ago?" It was just after I'd moved in with the Pleasures, so that time frame sounded about right. "Around then."
"How long before that were you experiencin' symptoms?"
That question made me pause. I didn't know for sure when exactly the job had started catching up with me so obviously. Jack commented every time I came home from a mission that I looked a bit worse—part of her way of trying to get me to refuse any more missions, but I held on to her. It had backfired horribly, but I held on with everything I had, even if it meant more missions.
The toll had been gradual. After the first mission, with the Stormbreaker computers and Sayle, it was almost like a bad dream, and I continued on with life. It was hard adjusting without Ian, but the mission itself seemed almost like a hallucination—I had a nightmare or two, but the thrum of fear was quick to disintegrate. It was only one, after all, and it was a one-time thing, then.
Then there was Point Blanc, which was significantly worse. I was captured again, but when I called for help, I was ignored, and that ignited a different kind of fear that had never gone away. Even then, it had still seemed like—my one odd story I could tell when I was older. That incredibly odd and random thing that had happened once in my youth, that I could look back on in wonder and with aged wisdom. After my distress signal in Point Blanc was ignored, it started to become a reality that things don't always work out—that sometimes people won't come to save you.
I'd been injured badly enough to require hospitalization, and that was another turning point—this was dangerous. This was deadly. I could've died, and in hospital when Mrs. Jones asked me to go back, I realized there were people who seemed perfectly fine with my death if it would complete the mission.
I realized suddenly that the final turning point was General Sarov.
That mission held a special place of fear in my mind. It wasn't as bad as Cairo—nothing was—and I thought I ranked the crocodile pit above the events of that mission, but the entire mission itself terrified me even now. I'd seen seasoned agents die, escaped a shark, and nearly been crushed to death even after I gave up the information I was asked for.
Then there was Sarov in his madness—looking back, it was an awful combination of childlike desire and time-driven trauma that created a madness like Sarov. He saved me, and spared me, and in times of weakness when I wanted to go home, when I just wanted to feel safe, his paternal instincts were almost, almost comforting. I still hated myself for those moments of weakness, but I remembered them. I remembered them. It was a twisted kind of love he had for me—the desire to adopt me, the desire to spare me after all my failed escape attempts. It was childlike in its persistence and terrifying in its surrealness.
And then Conrad tried to strangle me and that was new fear. That was new, horrible fear, that I barely escaped, and then—and then.
It's your fault.
I couldn't even console myself in the fact that Sarov's suicide was a result of his madness, because in a horrible twisted way, it was my fault.
That was when I realized I would never escape the consequences of this one-time thing I agreed to on a whim. The stupid agreement I'd made with Blunt for a one-time job, just because I was desperate to keep Jack, my one and only remaining precious person, the one person left who could care for me and keep me from being alone without an adult who could help me with my problems and my growth…it had now become my entire reality.
After Sarov. That was when I started to become this. After Sarov.
"…a year and a half ago," I approximated after a few long seconds of silence, feeling infinitely worse.
"Ye remember what triggered it," Snake said after a second. It wasn't a question—I supposed he could see the memories whirling around in my head.
"Yeah."
"Okay. Do ye remember if ye stopped eatin' anytime around then?" I was so grateful he didn't ask.
I thought back, trying to ignore the other memories in favor of considering the rest of my time—the time at home with Jack and Tom, the time at school. I thought of mealtimes. "I think so," I admitted, surprised to find it true. "I think I started skipping meals around that time. I didn't eat if I wasn't hungry. I just…had more important things on my mind."
Snake nodded, sitting back to mull over the new information. I shifted, trying to get more comfortable, and tugged on the sleeves of my shirt. I wanted to get Lion's hoodie, but it was dirty. Plus, it would seem beyond childish, and I didn't have the presence of mind to deal with that now.
"So, we can be fairly certain that the manifestation of the anxiety and depression was at least a partial trigger," Snake surmised, glancing at me for confirmation, at which I nodded. It was as good as any other explanation. "Okay. So…well, Cub, I don't have my degree, but the most obvious answer for things like this is a combination of medication and therapy."
"I hate both of those things," I said immediately.
"I know, which is why I'm at a bit of a loss," Snake admitted, staring at me. It seemed like his mind was running quickly. "What don't ye like about therapy?"
"I really don't want to even consider therapy," I said, feeling my scowl deepen. I felt the uncomfortable sensation of nervousness and unwanted vulnerability prickle at my skin, and I immediately wanted to run away. "Or medication."
I could tell I wasn't making things any easier on Snake, and I did feel bad because I knew he was trying to help me, but I wasn't open to that. Not now, especially not after Dr. Hash and the anxiety attack in his office.
"Okay," Snake conceded, shrouded concern behind his blank expression. "Cub—Alex—I know a lot of bad things have happened," he continued, speaking slowly, like he was choosing every word with intentional care. "At least, it seems that way. It seems like there are a lot of things that ye're runnin' away from, and if ye don't stop and deal with them, ye're going to keep runnin' til ye crash, and that's goin' to be really bad, lad. It's happened to a lot of veterans, and they had the advantage of age that ye don't have. I want to help before it gets to that point, and being open to things ye wouldn't normally consider is important in that."
Well, there went my good mood from before.
I didn't want to get mad. I really didn't. I knew Snake didn't mean anything by his words other than to try to help confront my demons.
He didn't know, though. He didn't know that if I stopped running from my demons, if I stopped for even a second, I'd stop functioning completely, because they'd overwhelm me. I wasn't strong enough for that yet. I wasn't strong enough to deal with them. Besides, dealing with my demons meant revealing my secrets, some of them at least, and I wasn't ready for that either. I didn't know when I'd be ready for that.
And besides that, I wasn't just running from demons in my head—they were out there in the real world waiting for me to slip up, and I couldn't face them yet. I never wanted to face them. I wanted to reach a point where I didn't matter to them anymore, but I didn't know when that would be, if ever.
I just…I couldn't.
"…I can't do that right now," I summarized, looking him in the eye. "For a lot of reasons."
It wasn't the answer Snake wanted, but he didn't look surprised, either. He just nodded, and said, "Okay. Then let's look at some other options."
And we did. He laid out a few things I could try, and they seemed simple enough. One tip was to set reminders around breakfast, lunch, and dinner, to have an outside tangible reminder to eat. Another strategy was to eat smaller meals more often throughout the day, which seemed tedious. He also recommended I start journaling what I ate and when so I could tangibly see what my daily intake looked like.
It sounded stupid. It sounded like a lot. I didn't want to do any of it, honestly, but I knew I needed to. When I showered and caught a glimpse of myself in the (newly replaced) mirror, I hated how skeletal I was starting to look. I'd finally forced myself to look at my body earlier today, and it was startling. I was pale—paler than usual—and my ribs weren't horribly exposed, but they were definitely visible. My cheeks were starting to sink.
I was a mess.
"Okay," I conceded after a moment of thought. I could be objective enough to know that something needed to change. "I'll try…the smaller meals thing. That sounds easy."
"Okay, good," Snake said, sounding genuinely pleased. "That's a good thing to start with. And ye can snack whenever you're hungry, too, or when you're cravin' something. Just make sure it's not all empty calories, yeah? The more color the better. I hear Lion's a good cook—get him to teach you how to make some things."
After a moment of hesitation, I nodded. That sounded kind of fun. I could cook simple things, but I doubted I could dish out an entire spread as effortlessly as Wolf or Lion. "I'll ask him."
"And if ye ever need any more advice or anything, ye know ye're welcome to call me," Snake reiterated, looking serious as he met my eyes. "Really. Got it?"
I could feel myself hesitating again, but…Snake was Snake. He was so earnest and honest I wondered how he'd even manage in combat sometimes. I knew he was serious in his offer—I knew I probably wouldn't accept it, but the offer was still comforting. "Got it."
Snake smiled. "Good. Now go eat."
I opened my mouth to say I wasn't hungry on instinct, but I figured that would be just the irony Snake needed to force me into therapy or worse, so I clamped my mouth shut and scowled. He laughed.
"Wolf'll make whatever ye want," Snake offered.
"Don't just bloody decide that I'll be a personal chef without asking me," Wolf called from the kitchen.
"Ye said ye'd cook me something good! I figured one more dish wouldn't be too much of a strain on your delicate psyche," Snake retorted, heading for the kitchen where I could already hear Wolf preparing dishes. I smirked—Snake really had him wound around his finger.
Not a second later, Eagle peeked out from his door and laser-focused onto the kitchen, then onto me. "Food?"
"Food," I confirmed.
Eagle sprinted.
…
Fox came out for dinner that night, and he acted like nothing had happened at all. Well—that wasn't quite true. He acknowledged it, and assured us he was fine, and he seemed fine. Still, I knew there was no way he was magically back to normal—not after so much time alone in his room. Besides, his micro-expressions were dead giveaways.
I waited until later that night, when Eagle and Wolf had gone to bed and when I was pretty sure Snake was engrossed in some book, to tap on his door.
"Come in," he said, sounding wide awake, like I knew he would be. I eased the door open and caught his eye—he was sitting at his desk. "Oh, hey, Alex."
"Hullo," I offered. I slid inside, closing the door behind me and leaning awkwardly against the frame, giving the room a cursory glance. It seemed like Fox—mostly neat with a few things strewn around, a lot of seemingly random knickknacks and keepsakes cluttered on his dresser and nightstand. His overhead light was off, but the lamp on his nightstand and on his desk were on, and he was looking at something on a laptop.
"What's up?" He asked, spinning in his chair to face me. He looked totally normal.
I shifted, feeling stupid. "I wanted to make sure you were okay after today."
"Yeah, I'm fine," he said immediately, shrugging nonchalantly. He wasn't looking at me. "Bit of a surprise, but, you know. Family, right?" He said with something that was supposed to be a conspiratorial smirk, but I noticed how flat it fell around his eyes.
I looked away. I wasn't very good at this. I couldn't be brutally honest like Wolf or Tiger, and I couldn't be distracting like Eagle, or so comfortingly genuine like Bear, or selflessly kind like Snake. I couldn't be anything like Lion, with his steady presence and sincere words.
"…you don't have to lie to a liar," I finally said.
Fox glanced at me, and just a little bit of the faulty spark in his eye fizzled. "I'm not lying."
I wanted to scoff, but I resisted. Instead, I nodded, and looked away. "Okay."
"I'm not."
"I said okay."
Fox ran fingers through his hair and turned away from me. "Did you need anything else?" He went back to scribbling something on some paper, shoulders hunched in the dim light.
"Sorry for stepping in," I said, easing the door open behind me. "I'm not sorry for what I said, but I'm sorry for doing it without your permission."
"You don't have to apologize for that," he said without turning around. He looked small. "Wolf would've done a lot worse. Besides, I'm glad she left."
I nodded to myself, even though he couldn't see me, and stood there for a second longer, searching fruitlessly for something to say. Finally, coming up empty, I said, "Just so you know…you have supported me. The only reason I was able to stay here with you guys was because I knew you were here. I knew I could depend on you if something happened."
Fox didn't turn around, but he stopped writing.
They weren't empty words, either. If I hadn't worked with Fox, knew him and knew he would help me if I needed it, I would never have agreed to come here for two weeks. I couldn't. There was no way I could have allowed myself into a flat full of strangers for two weeks. There was no way I could have allowed myself to be so disarmed and vulnerable and open, asleep and alone, if I didn't know Fox was here.
"I'm sorry if I haven't made that clear, or…if I don't have much to show for it," I said ruefully. "But I depend on you more than I think either of us realize, because…you're the only one who knows how hard this is," I admitted, feeling my voice thin in uncertain vulnerability, "in more ways than—than one."
He was the only one who knew how hard it was to lie and lie and lie, and he was the only one who knew that I was only sixteen and I was far too young to be drowning in everything consuming me.
I slipped out into the hall, but I said before I closed the door, "You can let me support you, too, sometimes."
With that, I went to bed. I had a feeling both our minds were far too loud to let us sleep.
…
I was excited.
I woke up and wondered why, because I really couldn't remember a reason to be so excited. As far as I remembered as soon as I woke up, I'd single-handedly (with the gratuitous assistance of Violent Daniels-La-fucking-Rue) ruined K-Unit's leave time with trauma and torrential emotional outbursts and traumatized Fox's abusive mother (which I wasn't guilty about in the slightest). Still, beneath the excitement, I felt a little awful remembering Fox's hunched shoulders.
But then I remembered L-Unit.
They were coming back today.
The thought made me want to literally jump out of bed and find a way to fast-forward the day. As that was unfortunately not an option, I lay on the couch bed and grinned like a maniac at the ceiling when I remembered, so ready and so excited to be back in our familiar flat with Bear and Tiger and Lion. I missed them so much.
It made me feel a little weak, and it made me feel like my walls that I'd so painstakingly forged and tempered and set were being torn down just a little bit every day, and it scared me. It scared me that three people could have so much control over how I felt and acted and existed. It scared me that I didn't think I could leave like I had been prepared to do. It scared me that our relationship was founded on lies, and they accepted every truth so easily, and that there might be a truth one day they couldn't so easily accept.
They scared me, but I needed them, and I didn't think I could be without them anymore.
So I was excited.
Excitement gave me energy, so I got up early, before anyone else was awake. I figured since it was my last day here, I may as well make breakfast for everyone, as a shoddy thank you. I wasn't an awful cook, so I figured I could put something together.
Eggs and bacon seemed simple enough, and I'd watched Lion make hash browns once. I figured I'd try it.
Cooking turned out to be pretty relaxing once I got the hang of it. I burned the first egg (but I kind of knew that would happen so I only used one egg the first time) and after that they turned out a little better. They may have been a little on the crispy side, and I had to scrub the hell out of the pan afterwards because I forgot to use cooking spray, but they tasted pretty good. I begrudgingly used some butter, since it was socially required (or so Tom had told me), but it wasn't too bad in the eggs.
The bacon was an adventure, and if it was a little charred, I did my best.
Wolf came out, half-asleep and groggy, half-way through the hash browns. I didn't hear him come in at first, and he happened to stumble in when I was methodically trying to flip the hash browns and having absolutely no success. I really just succeeded in scrambling and cooked and uncooked parts together. I cursed in three languages and ended up staring at it as it simmered, trying to figure out what to do.
"Dumbarse," Wolf muttered, scaring me so badly the soul left my body for a brief moment. "Move."
I did as instructed, figuring the resident chef could salvage something. "Sorry. I've never made them before."
Wolf glanced at me, then at the pan, and effortlessly separated the cooked and uncooked parts with little more than a flick of his wrist. "Not bad for the first try. You used too much oil."
"Oh. Okay."
"You cooked all this?" Wolf asked with a raised eyebrow, glancing at the table.
"I did my best," I defended, sipping coffee. "It was a thanks for letting me stay."
Wolf hummed, but didn't say anything else. I didn't expect much from him, anyway.
"What time is L-unit getting here?" Wolf asked, flipping the hash browns with infuriating ease.
"They only said late, but I don't know the exact time."
"In that case, take Fox out today."
I glanced at Wolf, a little surprised. "To do what?"
"Anything," Wolf clarified, finally plating the hash browns with a look of half-decent approval. "He just needs to be out. He'll stay in his room all day and sulk if we let him. I'm not going to be good company, Eagle is far too squirrelly for Fox right now, and…well, Snake's good company for anyone, but I think if you asked Fox to run errands with you, he'd be more inclined to say yes."
Well, that was…surprisingly thoughtful coming from Wolf.
"Who are you and what've you done with Wolf?" I asked quietly, smirking over my coffee when he sent me an exasperated glance.
"Just because I don't braid your hair and gush about my feelings doesn't mean I don't have a shred of emotional intelligence," he clarified with a scowl. "Brat."
"Arse," I said under my breath. He hit me with the spatula. "Ow."
"You deserved it. You insulted a Hispanic with a cooking tool in hand."
I rolled my eyes and ate begrudgingly. I wasn't hungry (not that that was a surprise) but I figured I should at least eat some of what I made. It wasn't that bad.
Wolf agreed, surprisingly. "More butter in the eggs," he recommended.
Of course.
Snake was up next, eating quickly and departing with a pat on my shoulder, saying he had to go get some last-minute Christmas presents. Wolf was doing the dishes when Eagle got up, grabbed two pieces of bacon, and ran out the door without a word.
I glanced at Wolf for an explanation.
"Brunch with Evie's parents," Wolf explained. "Telling them he's going to propose, and everything. I think he's late."
I blinked. "Isn't that…not good?"
"Evie's parents know Eagle so well they probably planned to show up twenty minutes late so they'd get there at the same time."
I had to laugh at that.
It took Fox a long time to get up. Before that, Wolf let me borrow his laptop, so I was checking nearby stores for presents for Lion. I also found an Arsenal poster I thought Jonah would like, so I bit the bullet and added that to my list. I hadn't realized how expensive Christmas was.
I really couldn't decide what to get Lion, but I knew I was going to be out of time tonight, so I figured I had to work fast. I was leaning towards the idea of a keyboard. He talked about music a lot, and how he missed school for no other reason than he wanted a piano, so…well, I figured I couldn't very well drag a grand piano up to the flat (or even think about trying to afford one) so keyboard.
For some reason, it felt inadequate, but I really couldn't think of anything else. Lion really didn't like talking about himself too much, so my options were limited, even with the covert questions I tried to sneak into our regular conversations.
I put one on hold at a music store near Oxford. I could take the Tube, but carting a keyboard on and off when my leg was still a little week was going to be difficult, so I figured it was a good excuse to get Fox to drive me, if he was up for it. I was on the web updating my fake parents' Facebook profile when Fox finally got up.
Wolf made himself scarce almost immediately, I suppose trying to limit my options when I asked for a ride, so I had no choice but to ask Fox, and Fox had little choice but to say yes.
I tried to work up to it, though, still uncomfortable from the night before. I hated seeing Fox like that.
"Morning," I said over the top of the screen when he came out, running tired fingers through his hair as he yawned. "There's breakfast."
"Oh, thank God," he said tiredly. He hadn't eaten much at dinner. "Wolf made it?"
"I did."
Fox paused, sending a suspicious look my way. "What?" I defended, feeling myself blush. "I can make simple things."
Fox hummed dubiously, but he made a plate and came to sit with me in the living room. I peeked over the top of the laptop screen and watched his expression as he ate, stupidly satisfied when he looked somewhat impressed.
"Okay, not bad," he admitted.
"Told you."
He smirked, and ate, turning on the tellie and flipping to a basketball game. We sat in silence for a few minutes, and I wondered how to broach the topic of going. I knew all I had to do was ask casually and like a normal person, but I still felt nervous, for some reason.
Wolf, behind Fox, stuck his head out of his room and gave me an intentional look, and I fought the urge to flip him off, instead rolling my eyes.
"Fox," I said at last, deciding to rip off the band-aid. "Do you mind driving me to town today? I have to pick up Lion's gift?"
"Hm? Sure," Fox said without glancing away from the tellie. "Can we go after the game's over?"
I blinked. Well, that was anti-climactic. "That's fine. Pick-up is until six."
"We can leave around lunchtime," he said.
"Kay."
And that was that.
Wolf rolled his eyes and retreated back into his room.
…
Fox and I got lunch out, and I felt kind of bad, because Snake hadn't let me pay for my lunch earlier, and Fox wouldn't now. I really didn't have the money to spare, but I didn't know if they knew that or not. I didn't want to be treated as broke even though I was.
"Let me do this, mate," Fox said as explanation as he put his card by the check. "You save for when you need it."
I felt my neck heat up as I thanked him, but I accepted it.
"You seem better," he said as we drove to the music store, breaking the peaceful quiet bubble in the car.
"I'm excited to see the guys," I admitted, looking out the window. It was an unusually warm day, so the snow from earlier had turned to bitter slush along the sides of the streets. "I don't know. I'm just kind of…all over the place, I guess."
Fox nodded in my periphery. "Well…I'm here if you need me."
"I am too," I commented. "If you need something. I don't know…how good I am at giving advice, but I can listen."
Fox didn't look at me, but he nodded again, the slightest bit. I took it as progress.
He helped me cart the keyboard to the car, sending me a startled look. "You bought a whole-arse piano?"
"It's just a keyboard," I defended, sliding it into the backseat and thanking God that the door was still able to close completely. "He plays piano."
"How expensive was it?"
I shrugged, trying to remember. "I don't know. It was on sale. It wasn't cheap, or anything, but they're worth it."
Fox didn't look convinced, but I didn't expect him to. "Okay, well…don't spend your entire first paycheque, kid."
"I didn't. I put a lot of it in savings before I did anything. And Lion and Tiger and Bear are really infuriating about not letting me pay for stuff like food or bills besides rent," I added, scowling. "I'm pretty sure they know I'm broke."
Fox sent me a look. "You didn't get anything in a will or anything? MI6 pays bloody well, your uncle should've left you stuff. I thought you were close."
This was one of the times I wished Fox had even a modicum of social finesse, but he didn't, and the question was out there.
I didn't want to answer it. I didn't like talking about it in the first place, but he'd asked it so point-blank that I didn't know if I could get around it. I shuffled uncomfortably, opting to get into the car, and he followed suit, glancing at me as I avoided his eyes.
"It's complicated," I finally said, hoping he wouldn't ask further.
"How so?"
Son of a bitch.
I made a sound of frustration, and Fox seemed to realize it was a sensitive topic. "I don't want to dredge up horrid memories or anything, I'm just asking."
"I know," I admitted, fiddling with the sleeves of my jacket. "I—well, my uncle left everything to MI6. Including me. Guardianship of me, I mean. So they—control everything. They were good about making payments on time from the trust, for the house and for bills and stuff. We never really had to worry about it. But they said it wouldn't be mine until I was eighteen, and—yeah. I doubt I'll see any of it now."
I didn't think that was what Fox was expecting.
Fox looked at me for a long time. We were parked on the side of the road, and I counted at least three cars waiting impatiently for our spot, but Fox didn't move. I could practically hear the gears turning in his head, and his blank face mostly hid his frustration, but I could see it.
He cursed under his breath and backed out, hands tight on the steering wheel. "That doesn't piss you off? That's—that's just wrong, Alex. That's your money."
I shrugged again. Of course, it pissed me off, but… "I can't do anything about it without putting myself in an even worse situation. It's not fair, but—well, I stopped wishing things were fair a long time ago, I think. This is how it is, and I don't think I can change it."
"It pisses me off," Fox fumed, visibly upset. "After everything you've done for them, you shouldn't have to be worried about money."
I didn't know how to respond, so I didn't for a long time. Finally, I said, "Maybe one day I can do something about it, but for now…I don't need money. I'm fine with what I have."
Fox glanced at me, something unreadable in his eyes. "You're far too good for the world you keep having to save."
To that, I didn't respond. I couldn't tell him the truth—that I didn't consider myself good enough for the world at all, after everything—and we drove in silence.
…
I thought we were going to go back to the flat, but Wolf knew Fox better than I thought—Fox wanted to go walk around some. It was painfully obvious how much he didn't want to return to the flat, so I agreed to walk around one of the parks for a while. He said to tell him if my leg started hurting, but other than the constant ache from the cold, it felt solid.
We walked in silence for a while, and it was nice. It wasn't so bitterly cold today, and I was sure we both needed the quiet. There weren't many people out—several people were last-miunte holiday shopping or working, or at home with their families, so the park wasn't crowded. It was nice—I let myself relax a bit, the number of threats not very high.
"What's your plan?" Fox asked suddenly.
I started a little, lingering on a bridge out of habit, peering into the lake. It wasn't high at all—just a tiny land bridge a few feet above a pond with orange and white koi fish bustling round under the rippling surface—but it still sparked a hint of something in my chest, and I felt compelled to look over the edge at the water for a little while.
I turned to Fox as he said my name, tilting my head. "My plan for what?"
"…for all of it," he said slowly, looking as though he didn't know what he himself was asking. "I just…I'm worried. Someone already came after you, and I'm sure there's more where they came from. And you can't hide from MI6 forever, and the Sergeant's a smart guy—he's going to know something's up eventually. I don't want you to get there and not have a plan, or anything."
I inwardly cringed a little more the longer he spoke, glancing back at the water for a brief second of peace. I didn't know. I didn't know what to do.
"I haven't thought that far ahead," I said honestly, glancing at him as I cleared the last of the bridge, following him towards a shaded area with bigger trees. There was no one around us in hearing distance, so I wasn't too worried about someone overhearing. I didn't sense anyone spying on us, either—I'd gotten good at knowing when I was being watched.
"Right now, I'm just…surviving," I continued. "That's all it seems like I can do. I'm not…I have a lot of issues, you know, and right now I'm just…I'm just trying," I concluded, genuinely unsure of how to put my feelings into words. "Everything else is just…it's not as important as right now, I guess. I'm holding onto what I can. I'm just trying to be okay."
Fox didn't say anything, and we continued walking, slow and steady. It was nice, in a way. The light exercise was good for my leg, and I really did enjoy Fox's company, most of the time.
"You don't seem very okay," he said, bumping my shoulder with his own as we walked.
"You don't either," I countered with a significant look in his direction.
Fox smiled, humorless and flat. "Yeah, well, I'm older."
"That literally doesn't mean anything."
Fox smirked, just a little happier than before. "Seniority in age and rank, kiddo."
I tilted my head, considering. "Actually, if you think about it, we joined the SAS at the same time. And I've been on more missions than you with MI6. So I outrank you."
Fox looked at me, absolute indignation in his eyes, but whatever argument he had died in his throat. I smirked as he floundered for a second, finally muttering, "Little shit."
I laughed a little, shoving my hands into my pockets. It was chilly.
"So, the reason you're…'not okay'…" he faltered, obviously searching for words. I let him continue, figuring he'd spit it out eventually. It took a minute, but finally he just blurted out, "Was it Egypt?"
I wasn't expecting the question, and I faltered so badly Fox reached for my elbow to steady me.
I blinked, recalibrating as I stared at the ground and tried to breathe.
"Sorry, sorry, don't space out, please," Fox said quickly, taking my shoulders and steering me to the side of the path in case anyone happened to walk by. "Oh, bloody hell, don't—you are breathing, aren't you?"
"I'm fine," I said slowly, nodding belatedly. I still didn't look at him. "I'm okay. It's not like—like in the mall. I'm okay."
"Oh, good," Fox said, letting his head fall in relief. "Snake would have my head." I gave him a thin smile and took a deep breath. "I'm sorry I asked. You don't have to talk about it, seriously. I am shutting up."
It took a minute before I felt like I could speak without faltering, so I finally said, "It's okay. You didn't mean to."
Fox looked at me, long and searching, but he finally seemed satisfied. "We can go back to the car."
I shook my head immediately. "I don't want to be in an enclosed space."
Fox blinked, and I was half as surprised as him that I'd admitted that. Points for communication. "Oh. Okay, no big deal. There' a bench, do you want to sit? Or walk—"
"Fox. I'm fine."
Fox's mouth audibly clicked shut, and he followed me as I continued to walk.
He was serious about shutting up, because he didn't say another word, and I didn't know what to say. I'd always been quiet, but putting my emotions into words had always been especially hard. Ian had initially hired Jack because he needed help taking care of me when he was away, and because I'd been so bad at communicating as a child it often took a couple minds working together to translate for me. I'd had a bad habit of shutting down when I didn't understand things or when I wasn't feeling well instead of reaching out, and it hadn't gotten any easier after everything.
It usually took someone reaching out to me first, or knowing me well enough to know what was wrong. Tom had gotten pretty good at it—not that I was surprised—and Jack was always so good at knowing exactly when I was thinking or what I needed just by the slightest change in my behavior.
Tom wasn't around all the time anymore, and Jack was gone, so unsurprisingly, I'd shut down without even realizing it.
Most reveals I made to L-Unit or someone else were prompted by questions or gestures, and I rationalized the reveal and the silent request for support with the notion that it was repaying a debt for said question or gesture, because I knew they wanted me to start opening up. Revealing things without a reason, admitting things, admitting when I needed help—these things were all still very difficult, especially after I'd been thrown to the sharks and ignored so many times.
Fox was reaching out, and I didn't know what to do.
I thought as we walked, looking mostly at my feet, paying attention to the way he shifted beside me. I could tell he was uncomfortable with the silence, but he didn't know what to say, so he didn't say anything.
At least he seemed a little more like his old self.
"…yeah," I finally said, and the word burned.
"Hm?" Fox asked, glancing at me.
"Yeah. I'm not okay because of what happened in Egypt."
Fox's steps slowed, and he looked very conflicted. He had no idea what to do.
"It was really bad," I admitted. I'd told Tom what happened, I'd told Mrs. Jones and Alan Blunt in the debrief, I'd told the Pleasures, I'd told the psychiatrist, but I'd never gone into much detail. Even with Tom, I told him the facts, and that was it, because I didn't want him to have to carry that image like I did. It was clinical and detached and most of it was omitted, anyway.
It felt like I was talking about it for the first time. Like the nightmare that tore me apart every night was finally being voiced after being real only in my sphere of existence.
I spoke, uncensored and truthfully, about Jack's death for the first time.
"I…made a group mad," I said, staring at the weathered asphalt, full of brittle twigs and the shriveling shadows of the stubborn leaves that had finally succumbed to the cold. "A terrorist organization. They came after me, and they took me, and Jack. My guardian. She was kind of a live-in nanny, you know? My uncle Ian hired her when I was six or seven since he traveled so much. She, uh—she meant a lot to me. I loved my uncle, really, but when he wasn't there, she was, and—yeah. She was like a big sister, but more.
"They took us, and…the main guy, he…" I faltered, and Fox put a hand on my elbow. It grounded me enough that I could continue, quietly. "He was trying to find a measurement for pain. He was a scientist. I thought he was going to torture me. I was—I was terrified, because he'd—tortured a lot of other people to death, and…I was just really scared. But he didn't…"
My hands shook, and I curled them into fists, my bruised knuckles aching enough to keep me in the present. I didn't know how I was still talking. Maybe it was a combination of the pain and Fox's steady hand, but whatever it was, I kept talking, because the words wouldn't wait for me anymore.
"He didn't hurt me at all. I wish he had, but he didn't. He wanted—he wanted to test—emotional pain. Figure out how to measure pain based on physical reactions to emotional pain. So he made me—me watch. He made me watch."
I had to stop, and breathe, and blink away the fire. We weren't walking anymore. We were standing in the middle of the trail beneath a canopy of leafless, whitewashed branches, in the cold under a clouded sky. I couldn't see Fox's face, but his hand was so tight around my elbow it almost hurt.
"He'd planned an escape for Jack. Set it up and let her think she was going to escape and come back with help to save me. She found a Jeep. It was waiting for her. He gave—"
I stopped, and Fox said something, but my heart was pounding too loud in my ears. I felt phantom restraints around my wrists and ankles and bare chest, and I was so scared, watching that screen. "It was planted with explosives. He gave the detonator to Julius Grief—long story short, my clone from another mission. And Julius—he hated me. Hated me. And I begged him, Fox, I begged him not to push the button. I—I begged. But he—did, and—and she—"
"Stop," he said quietly, moving a hand to my back. I stood frozen. I couldn't make myself say the last part, no matter how hard I tried. I felt my brain trying to shut down as I remembered, trying to run from the trauma, and I couldn't move. "It's okay. It's okay. You don't have to say anymore."
Fox didn't really do many boundaries. He knew I didn't really like to be touched without warning, but he didn't care much, either. He said what he thought and he did what he wanted. So, I kind of expected it when he hugged me, but I didn't stop him.
"I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "I'm sorry, Alex. I'm sorry you've been dealing with that by—by yourself this whole time. Shit, kid—"
He broke off, his voice colored with empathetic pain and hatred and something else, but—but he…it was the first time I'd spoken about it so honestly, even after telling Tom, and I just—didn't know. I didn't know what to feel, and he was here, and I felt safe.
After a long moment of hesitation, I hugged him back, and soon I was holding on for dear life.
"I'm sorry," he kept saying, voice low and quiet and so sad. "I'm sorry."
It had been a mission assigned from Wolf to cheer Fox up, and I was sure that I'd failed horribly. But still, I felt—awful, and lighter. Awful because speaking it was painful. Remembering was painful, and I was much weaker on the inside than I showed to other people, and remembering was too much.
But lighter, because Fox listened, and accepted, and…and he was still here. He didn't shy away like Sabina had, he didn't try to avoid the topic like Tom. He knew loss, and he knew how much it hurt.
Fox hugged me for a long time. I thought I'd fall apart, but I didn't. I thought the gaping wounds inside me would splinter even further, but they didn't.
For once, I let someone in, and despite the vulnerability and the terrifying ache of the thought of being ignored or left again, it helped. It helped.
A few minutes later, the sun peeked through the cloud-brushed sky, and the world was just a little bit brighter.
…
Fox drove us around for a while longer after that. He turned soft music on low volume—instrumental tracks of popular songs on piano or strings, and neither of us spoke. I guessed he saw me shiver, because he shrugged off his jacket and handed it to me with a look that said he'd be personally offended if I didn't accept it.
I gave him a thin smile and put it over my legs. It was warm.
He drove aimlessly, and we didn't speak. It was pretty nice—I felt almost sleepy a few minutes in, and I thought I might have dozed for a little while, but Fox let me. The sun was setting by the time he finally suggested we head back.
"Are you ready to go back?" He asked quickly after the suggestion, cutting his eyes to me. "We don't have to. We can get dinner somewhere and then head back."
I shook my head. "I'm okay now. It was just…kind of a lot, in the moment, but…the drive helped. Thank you."
Fox nodded, looking at me with scrutinizing eyes for a moment longer. He did that a lot.
"Sorry for…I don't know…being depressing," I stammered uncertainly, a little guilty knowing that he was having a shit day yesterday and I probably didn't make it any better.
"Don't—don't do that," Fox said quickly, shaking his head so hard I thought it was going to come off. "Don't. I—no. You don't have anything to be sorry for."
"You sound mad."
"I am. Not at you."
I looked at him, but he didn't seem like he was lying, so I took him at his word and looked away. "I—um—I was serious last night, by the way. I don't think I would've been able to come stay here if I hadn't known you'd be here."
Fox paused, then nodded. "I'll be here as long as you need me."
The promise was fickle, because no one but Tom had ever kept it. Still, I…Lion would keep it. I knew he would. And Bear and Tiger. And…I supposed it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to trust that Fox would keep his, too. It was painfully scary, in a way, to open myself up to that kind of permanent relationship without knowing how the future would affect it.
But this was better. I knew, rationally, it was better, and it was a sign that I might be…not getting better, but open to healing. Somehow. Eventually.
"Thank you," I said quietly.
"Don't thank me. Just come to me when you need me."
I nodded. "I'll…try. Promise."
That was enough.
…
Fox pulled into the garage, and we idled for a minute. I sent a questioning glance his way, handing him his jacket, but he was staring at his phone.
"Is something wrong?" I asked.
He surprised me by smiling a little at the screen then tucking it away, shaking his head. "No, everything's fine. Leave the heavy-arse keyboard and we'll come back for it tonight."
"Um…okay," I said. I didn't see why we couldn't just keep it in the flat. Though I supposed it would be easier to just transfer it to L-Unit's car when they got here. I'd just tell Lion to go away for a few minutes.
My leg ached a little after so long in the cold and so long walking around, but I stubbornly refused to take the lift, even after Fox suggested it. Fox didn't stop smiling the whole way up.
"You're being weird," I finally said, glancing back at him as I walked down the hall towards the flat.
"You're weird," he shot back.
Oh, yeah. Fox was definitely an older brother.
I waited as he unlocked the door, a little lost in my thoughts. I hadn't started packing yet—not that I had much to pack—but Snake had offered to do my laundry, so I was going to have to fold it and put it away. I needed to try to fit some of the presents in my duffle, too, so I didn't have too many suspicious bags.
I followed behind Fox, lost in my head, so when a body slammed into me, I nearly flipped them on instinct.
"Alex!" A familiar voice shouted, and I realized very suddenly that the beanpole that had me trapped in a bear hug was, incidentally, Bear.
It took my brain a long second to catch up, but by the time I did, Bear was pushing me back with hands on my shoulders and a face-splitting grin. "Aw, mate, we missed you! The mission wasn't nearly as fun without our double oh seven."
I couldn't help the grin on my face as I peered around Bear to see Lion and Tiger in the foyer. "I thought you weren't going to be back until later!"
"Yeah, we came back a little early, thought we'd surprise you," Lion said, ruffling my hair with a careful hand and pulling me in. "You been okay? Any incidents, scuffles, whatever?"
"Um…" I said, unsure of how to answer, seeing as there had been a multitude of incidents.
"I knew it!" Tiger shouted, punching Bear in the bad hard enough to draw a wince from him. "I knew it. Bear, you owe me seventy bloody quid, you cheapskate. Alex, what'd you do? Depending on the circumstances, I get more money."
I threw my head back and laughed, Lion's arm around my shoulders, Bear and Tiger squabbling like kids in the foyer of K-Unit's flat. For a moment, nothing else mattered. For a moment, I could almost forget about the vulnerability, the loneliness, the fear, the future. For just a moment, I didn't care about anything else.
For just that moment, I had almost everything I wanted, and I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.
Classifying the characters into Avatar the Last Airbender nations because I have the power and no one and I mean no one can stop me. These are also based entirely on vibes and not any knowledge of the ATLA universe:
1. Alex: I originally put an earth type, but the longer I thought about it, I think he's a water type. He's always in motion, and he enjoys the calm and the peace, but sometimes his emotions are like a hurricane, or a tidal wave, and…yeah. He can also be very compassionate, which reminds me of the peaceful waters.
2. Tom: fire, not because of anything bad, but just because he's so chaotic
3. Lion: Air. Absolutely. He just has that sense of peace and support—like on the horrible days when you feel a nice breeze and you just think that everything's going to be okay
4. Tiger: Fire. For sure. Just—yeah.
5. Bear: I think air. A little more chaotic and unpredictable than Lion, like more of a windstorm, but air for sure.
6. Wolf: Earth, I think. I initially went with fire, but Wolf is also very self-disciplined, so I think he could be a FORMIDABLE earth-bender
7. Snake: Oh, absolutely water. He just has such a healing personality, and he's so calming.
8. Fox: Hm. I really struggled with. I wanted to say fire, but I think I'm going to have to go with air. I think I get those vibes just because he's like the air, and he's not easily tied down—he's always moving direction and going every which way
9. Eagle: I really struggled with him. I don't think water, and I don't think fire, just because he's not all calming or all chaos, but he is a little bit of both. And I don't get earth vibes, so by process of elimination, I'm going to assign him to the Air squad.
10. Evie: FIRE! Because she's a spitfire. Healing fire, though, for sure. Like, healthy fire. Light and warmth.
11. Jessie: MY JESSIE! Definitely a water type. She's just so genuine and sweet, I can't imagine her as anything other than a water-type.
12. Jonah: My baby Jonah. I see air. Idk why—like I said, all based on vibes, instead of actual things.
More random headcanons from the perspective of you being the character-in-question's significant other that will emotionally destroy you (because that's all I've been seeing on TikTok and my single ass wants to feel loved)
1. Henry/Bear still doesn't trust himself with pain medication even if it's just ibuprofen or something so when you guys were finally close enough and he trusted you enough he started asking you to get it and dose it out for him but he was really really nervous about it at first
2. The first time you dressed up for a date with Sam/Tiger he literally couldn't speak the whole night. Like he wanted to compliment you but he just couldn't stop looking at you long enough to form words.
3. When Lion/Daniel met your dad for the first time, he was really nervous, both because he wanted him to approve and because he's just usually nervous around older men (fuck you Lion's dad) but now they're like best buds
4. Tom talks more than most normal humans, but he could literally listen to you talk for hours. Like it doesn't matter what he wants to say—he will sit his ass down and just listen to you talk as long as you want with a cute little smile, doesn't matter what you're saying
5. The first time your family came over to meet Wolf/James he stress-cooked so much food trying to impress them that Fox finally went to buy a mini-fridge.
6. The first time Alex finally got the courage to show you all his scars, he was so scared you wouldn't love him anymore, but then you told him they didn't matter, and you loved all of him anyway, and he started crying and thanking you over and over again. *screams in fluent depression*
7. Fox/Ben is definitely a playboy and he's a huge flirt, but as soon as he even gets an inkling that it's making you uncomfortable or self-conscious, he immediately redirects all his attention to you and does everything he can to make you feel like the most special person in the room
8. The first time Eagle/Mason asked Evie out on a date she literally kicked him in the nether regions because he literally put a fake spider in her hair in the middle of church. Then he came back and did it again a week later, and she was like, "well, if he's willing to risk another nutshot, I guess I can give him a chance."
9. When you gave Snake/Lewis a key to your apartment for the first time, he smiled and thanked you and excused himself because he was trying not to get overwhelmed, because he's never had anything like that outside of K-Unit, the way he grew up. To him keys mean a lot more than a place—they mean trust and home. It's one of the most important things he has.
1. Did Bear's dad ever remarry?: No, he didn't
2. Will we ever get to meet his mom?: Maybe ;)
3. Does Tiger have any siblings: Nope, Tiger's an only child!
4. Where did L-Unit grow up? Lion grew up around Nottingham, Bear grew up in Manchester, and Tiger grew up traveling between England, Egypt, and Japan for his dad's job
5. Are they wondering about Alex's adopted family? I mean, they know about Sabina, so they could ask about his adoptive parents: They're wondering, but they don't want to push him for information, so they're waiting for him to share when he's ready :)
6. Does MI6 still have custody of Alex or do the Pleasures?: We will answer that in the future!
7. Will we ever see the Pleasures again?: Maybe ;)
8. Is Ben aware that he killed Alex's godfather?: Not yet :(
9. Will Alex encounter the chaos that is Wolf's family? Eventually!
10. Will he be coddled by tiny but very stubborn grandmothers (Wolf's or Tiger's or whoever?): WAIT MAYBE THAT'S SUCH A CUTE IDEA
11. Has L-Unit had any serious relationships in the past?: Tiger had a pretty serious girlfriend, but she couldn't handle him being away so much, so they broke up. Bear's more flirty and hasn't settled down yet. Lion has tried dating, but he's very insecure about his scars and he doesn't trust easily, so it's really hard for him.
12. Any tragic breakups?: Tiger was pretty broken up about his breakup (haha wow)
13. Any crazy exes: none really *crazy* but Bear has dated some questionable people XD
14. I am happy to answer literally any question! I love love love L-Unit!
