The car had struck Lion and Snake's head on at an angle. The front of their car had crashed right into the engine area on Snake's side, sending both cars careening off the backroad and into a tree on Lion's. We were told later that the driver of the other car had died on impact.

Snake's injuries were severe.

He had a moderate concussion from his head hitting the passenger window, a nasty gash as a result that had bled more than it should have. He had two broken fingers and a fractured ulna bone on his left arm. A piece of metal had torn through his right side. Though it had luckily missed any vital organs, it had caused massive internal bleeding, for which he was still in theatre. His right hip bone was fractured. His right leg, in his shin, had fractured so badly that the bone had pierced his skin; they would have to repair it with a rod once the swelling went down, but it had worsened the blood loss. He had two broken ribs and three fractured. He would be in theatre for a couple more hours but was doing well so far.

Lion's injuries, though fewer, were worse.

His right arm was dislocated at the elbow and fractured in his upper arm, crushed between his body and the tree, and had probably, in the doctor's words, saved the entire right side of his ribcage from being splintered. His right hip bone was fractured, and he had deep tissue bruises on most of his right side from the impact with the tree.

The worst was the head wound.

I couldn't follow most of what the doctor said, but I got the picture. He was bleeding in his brain, badly. He was in theatre now, and they didn't know what his chances were.

No one asked if I was okay. I didn't ask if anyone was okay. None of us were, and we all knew it.

There was nothing definitive that pointed to the accident being a warning or a threat, but I had never been naïve. The timing was too coincidental. The circumstances were too perfect.

The ride over was an absolute blur. The Sergeant was dispatching another unit to meet us at the hospital, but I could only sit as Tiger sped like a bat out of hell, Bear silent in the passenger seat, wondering just how bad off they were. Wondering if they were going to recover. Wondering if they were dead. K-Unit was ahead of us; I could see Wolf's car up the road.

When we'd arrived, one of the doctors from the theatres further into the hospital had come to meet us to give us some information on their injuries. After confirming that the emergency contacts (Wolf for Snake, Bear for Lion) were sure everyone else was allowed to hear everything, they gave us the injuries, the expected chances, and instructions to wait for more news. The doctor was out of breath, referencing a clipboard every few seconds. She had specks of blood on her scrubs. I wondered whose it was.

The waiting room, other than the quiet whispers of other families and sporadic announcements over the intercom for doctors or calling patients, was silent until the police arrived and, after checking with the receptionist who pointed at us, started towards our group.

My stomach, already rolling, almost revolted.

"Are you the contacts for Lewis Halliday and Daniel Walker?" One of them said, a large man with very dark skin and a deep voice. His partner was significantly scrawnier and looked young.

"Yes," Wolf said, standing. Though his tone was even, the fear was evident in his body language. I'd never seen him so strung out, not even on the edge of a plane trying to force himself to jump out.

"Right, we have some questions," the bigger man continued, taking out a notepad. His figure made it look particularly small. "I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but we have reason to believe that this accident was intentional." I knew it. That made the news no easier to hear. The other driver passed away, so we can't question him, but that doesn't mean we'll let the matter go. I understand they're both in the Special Air Service, from their records?"

I clenched my fists between my knees and looked at the ground, trying very, very hard not to tremble.

"That's correct," Wolf said. "We are as well."

"Okay. Do you know of anyone who would have a grudge against either Lewis or Daniel? Would want to cause this type of damage?"

I should have gotten on the train.

"…we have a couple ideas, but we think it may be something to do with a past assignment. I'm not sure how much we're able to share with local law enforcement," Fox said quietly from his seat. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him trying very hard not to glance at me.

"I see," the officer responded, and though his voice wasn't entirely convinced, he put his notepad away. "Who do we need to contact about turning the case over, then, do you know?"

I should have finished it on Cookham Bridge.

"Probably our Sergeant," Wolf said. His voice was so heavy. "I'll find—uh. I have a contact number somewhere…"

"That's fine, take your time," he said. The officer's voice was sympathetic, and though he had a big presence, his voice was surprisingly low. "I do have one question, so I can turn this over to your Sergeant with an answer. The driver of the other vehicle had a note; do any of you know what 'Never forgive, never forget' means?"

I froze.

Any trembling that I was suppressing stopped.

I thought…I'd thought it was MI6.

I'd thought it was Fischer. It had to be Fischer.

I couldn't fight MI6 and SCORPIA at the same time.

Additionally, I'm here to tell you that if you try to run away again, I'm going to start by killing Lion.

Mathias's words echoed in my head from yesterday at the train station. Was it only yesterday? It had seemed proactive, almost, but with the timing being so soon after…

Had they found out about the safe house plan? Had they considered it running away? Had Mathias made good on his promise and sent someone to kill Lion, like he'd said? But—but if it was SCORPIA, they usually did things more directly than car crashes. They used bombs, assassins, snipers…not car crashes that might kill the target.

So was it someone else in SCORPIA?

"I don't know what that means," Wolf said after a long minute in which he looked towards the others, searching for an answer. I couldn't give it to him. I could only stare at my hands and try not to throw up. Of course they wouldn't know what it meant. They had no reason to. There was a difference between knowing about an organization in theory and knowing their fucking motto.

"Okay. We'll make a note of it for when we pass the report along."

The officers made a remark about hoping the surgeries went okay, for which Wolf thanked them, and then they left.

As soon as I saw them leave, I got up, ignoring the others, and walked as quickly as I could to the bathroom.

I fell to my knees in the first stall I saw and threw up. I hadn't eaten in—I couldn't even remember how long, really, and it was just bile that burned. Still, I couldn't stop heaving even when I knew there was nothing left to bring up.

I should have never joined the SAS.

"Oi—Alex," I heard Bear's voice as he crouched behind me. I'd been so focused on making sure I made it to the toilet that I hadn't even closed the stall door behind me. I heaved again, and he put a hand on my back. It was cold. His voice, though worried, was hollow. "You alright, mate?"

I heard Tiger's voice somewhere nearby. I hoped it was only them.

I should have never met them.

I coughed and spat, shivering as my body sagged.

"It's them," I whispered, my throat burning. "That's—SCORPIA. 'Never forgive, never forget.' They said the same thing…in a note to me after—after Sabina."

Bear's hand stilled.

I waited for the blame.

The Pleasures had cared for me. Loved me, maybe, to an extent. Considered me part of their family, too. After Sabina, the blame was undeniable. I waited for it here, too.

"We'll call the Sergeant," he said quietly.

Perhaps he didn't blame me, but he didn't say he didn't. Neither did Tiger.

Lion and Snake were fighting for the lives, and I had been the one to put them on that battlefield alone.

Snake was out of theatre an hour later. His doctor said he'd be recovering for several months, but would, with support and in-home care, make a full recovery. As long as everything went well, he should be cleared for active duty six months from now, after three months of recovery and three of physical therapy. He would wake up from the anesthesia in the next couple hours. Wolf and Eagle went to sit with him when he was given a room, but Lion was still in theatre, and Fox wanted to stay with me.

Lion was given a room five hours later, after a seven-hour surgery to relieve the pressure in his brain and repair his skull.

From the doctor's report, his skull had been fractured when they'd hit the tree. They'd had to dig pieces out of his brain and repair the fissures as best they could. It was a miracle he'd survived.

He was going to remain in a medically induced coma until the swelling went down enough that they could diagnose his progress, and then they'd take him off the sedatives and allow him to wake up naturally. The doctor said there was a thirty percent chance he may not wake up at all.

"The brain is a delicate organ," he'd said apologetically, referencing his clipboard. "We've repaired all the damage we can see, but sometimes, no matter how well-repaired it is, the brain just…doesn't heal."

They would have to see when—if—he woke up, if there was any brain damage. It could range from nothing at all to Lion remaining in a vegetative state for the rest of his life.

It was one thing hearing about it. It was another thing to see it.

Lion's head was completely swaddled in bandages. The room was never silent—from the heart monitor, the whoosh of the breathing tube filling his lungs, there was constant noise keeping him alive. The nurse warned us not to touch anything, but I was scared to even walk inside—everything looked so easy to mess up.

Lion looked so fucking fragile.

He had always been a wall. He had always been a wall loyal and brave and stupid enough to stand in front of me. To stand beside me. To stand with me and protect me as best he could.

I was staring at broken bricks of that wall, and it was debilitating.

"Lion's the strongest man I've ever met," Tiger said into the noise-laden silence after a few minutes, startling me. "He'll live. He'll bounce back. He always has."

"Hm," Bear agreed quietly. Bear seemed to be taking all of this badly. He'd been pale for days.

We lapsed back into silence.

I would never forgive myself for this. Fuck the stupid resolution I'd made with Tom. I could never forgive myself, and I could never forgive them.

This wasn't something that could be forgiven or forgotten.

A little while later, Tiger got a text from Wolf. "Snake's awake," he said quietly. "Groggy, but okay. Wolf's mum is on the way, so…he should be okay if we have to leave."

"Angelica is flying in, as well," Bear said tonelessly.

I nodded in acknowledgement. I figured one of us should go see Snake, just to check in on him, but Fox had gone to his room once we'd settled with Lion, and I supposed it was crowded already. I was sure we'd go later—they were both in the ICU for the time-being, so he was just a couple halls away.

I wanted to text Tom. I wanted to do something, but I couldn't find the strength. I could only sit and stare at Lion and will him to wake up and smile and tell me it was going to be okay like he had—hours ago. Just hours. Not even half a day ago. So little time ago.

It ended, as I knew it would.

My thoughts were confirmed by the text message I received twenty minutes later.

Take the call.

The number was unknown.

"I'm going to the…lobby for a moment, to call Tom," I spun quickly, never looking up. Neither of them even really noticed—how could they? Tiger just nodded, and Bear just stared sightlessly at his friend in the bed.

I couldn't imagine how they felt, after losing Elliot. Lion couldn't—

No. It wasn't the time.

The phone rang just as I got to the lobby, where phone calls were allowed. I pushed away the fear and answered. "Hello?"

"Hello again, Alex."

I blinked, my limbs tensing a bit. I'd been expecting Matthias. It wasn't him, but it was a familiar male voice. I couldn't place it. "Who is this?"

"We met yesterday. Amell Fischer, with MI6."

I tensed even further, my head filling with cotton as panic and confusion began to overtake the calm that I forced onto myself, because—this was SCORPIA. The note was absolutely SCORPIA. So why was MI6 calling? Even though I was beginning to stop believing in them, was it a sick coincidence?

"I remember you."

"Yes, it's difficult to forget you, as well. How are Lewis and Daniel?"

My hackles rose, and the first thing I wanted to spit was for him to keep their names out of his mouth, but the more important question was, "How do you know about that?"

"I orchestrated the crash. Of course, I know about it."

The words were said so casually that I didn't know what they meant for a moment.

What? No. That was wrong. That was wrong—but it was right, because that wasn't SCORPIA's MO at all—but it was wrong, because what about the note

"I understand your confusion. The driver that crashed into your vehicle—you have run into him before, actually, you knew him as Q—was one of mine. He was tasked with crashing into Lewis and Daniel's car with the note on the dash. Unfortunately, he was under the impression that he would be safely ejected from the car beforehand, but the dead are much less likely to speak, after all."

Julius Grief.

Murdering him was the only time I had come close to the rage I felt right now.

"What the fuck is human life to you?" I all but yelled into the receiver, receiving some concerned and annoyed looks from others in the waiting area, but I couldn't register it. All I could see was red. "They haven't done anything! They're soldiers for the same country you are in charge of protecting—"

"You misunderstand. My only duty with MI6 is the retainment of our operatives. And your sabbatical has been far too long."

In an instant, the rage in my blood ran ice cold.

"…I can't come back there," I said shakily, turning to the wall to further lower my voice. The last thing I needed was someone in the waiting room hearing exactly what was going on. "I can't. I'm not—I'm not the person I used to be."

"I am sure you are not. I am sure your experiences have made you an even better undercover operative."

My face screwed up in pain and frustration and anger, and I said, "No, I'm—I can't handle the field. I can't. I was barely able to before."

"You will find a way. From your files, and what I've been told, you always do."

I always do.

I never have a choice.

"It is very simple," Fischer continued when I remained silent, and my heart began beating erratically, my breath coming in short, desperate pants, and I knew I couldn't escape anymore. "Crawley—I believe you know him—will be at the hospital in one hour, approximately, to collect you. You will get into the car without making a scene, and you will not inform your units of where you are going, nor will you inform them that the crash was anything but the doing of SCORPIA. You will do this, or I will arrange another accident. Lewis and Daniel were supposed to die, and this time, it will not be anything left to chance."

And there they were.

Those were the words I had been dreading for so many months.

I'd felt their shadow, I'd felt them lurking. It was like the storm clouds of death on a battlefield before the killing started—an inevitable end obscuring everything before. A kind of pressure, of darkness, closing in with each passing second. Even if I didn't always notice it, it had always been creeping forward.

And it had arrived.

It ended, as I knew it would.

Me for them. My service for their safety.

I would always choose me, as long as I was an option, and it had been foolish to believe anything different.

"…okay," I said, barely more than a breath around the word. "Okay. Just—they have nothing to do with MI6. Nothing to do with this."

"Their involvement is solely up to you," he amended, and I closed my eyes and leaned my forehead on the wall. I was dizzy. "But this decision was correct, and they will be out of my sights for a while because of it."

I didn't respond.

"Crawley will be at the west exit. I will send you a message when he arrives. You will have ten minutes to reach the car. Do you understand?"

"Yes," I breathed. All too well.

"Good. I will see you soon."

The line went dead.

I'd passed—a closet. There was a closet nearby. I staggered to it, waiting until a doctor had turned into a different hallway and the coast was clear, before tumbling into it, shutting the door behind me and falling to my knees in the dark, choking down and scream and rocking back and forth with my arms around my chest as I realized exactly what had just happened.

I was hyperventilating, and I couldn't stop myself. I was panicking. I couldn't stop. I was breathing raggedly, desperately, but my lungs weren't receiving enough air no matter what I did. I couldn't stop crying. I couldn't make myself get up off my knees. I could only close my eyes and ride it out, the final piece of the tidal wave of my dream, before I landed back on dry land—in reality, where I was not allowed to have things that I loved, because they were always going to be taken from me. Where I was not allowed to have things that I treasured, because treasures were weaknesses.

Where I was not allowed to have a home, because I could never stay.

It took ten minutes to get my breathing under control enough to stand up. It took another five to make myself walk back to Lion's room. It took another three before I could force myself to walk through the door and be sure I wouldn't burst into tears like a child.

"There you are," Tiger said. Bear wasn't in the room. "I was about to come looking for you. Everything alright?"

I nodded tightly. I didn't trust my voice.

"…okay. Bear's, uh…checking on Snake."

That made sense. I nodded again. "Tom, uh…he's worried," I said quietly. Any louder and I was sure my voice would break.

Tiger nodded. I wasn't sure if he could tell that anything was wrong—more wrong, anyway. I couldn't look at Lion. "Yeah. We all are, kid."

We sat in silence for a few more minutes before I felt strong enough to ask. "I don't…I don't want to make you leave him, but, uh…I'm kind of dizzy. I haven't…eaten. Would you…"

Tiger had glanced up when I began speaking, but as I slowly tried to voice the excuse, he caught on, "Yeah. I'll grab you something. Stay with him, okay?"

I nodded. "Of course."

And he left.

I didn't want anything. I couldn't stomach anything. I couldn't even think about it.

I just…wanted a minute or two alone with Lion, before I had to go.

I could tell Lion what was going on. It wasn't like he'd know, but…at least I could tell him.

I moved to take Tiger's seat, the one next to his unbroken arm, and hesitantly touched his hand. It was colder than I thought it would be.

I took a breath, then another. I opened my mouth to tell him, but instead, all I could voice was a broken, "Please wake up."

In the wake of my plea, there was only the silence of the machines.

"Please. Please wake up. I can't—" I choked on my next words, recovered, and said, "I can't do this. I don't want to go back."

But there was nothing more to be heard.

I took his hand in both of mine, despite the temperature, and leaned forward on my elbows. One of my hands gripped his wrist, an anchor, like I had so many times before. His pulse was a shallow comfort.

"…I have to leave," I said eventually. The words weren't coming easily, but after a moment more of silence, I knew another chance wasn't guaranteed. Words fell and I let them. "I have to leave. But I wanted to talk to you before I went.

"You know, when I was…when I was little. Um. I had this—this thing, I guess. I didn't talk much. I don't now, but it was even less then. That's one of the reasons Ian hired Jack—sometimes it took a few people to help me talk. Help me find words. But sometimes, I'm realizing, it was just…I didn't want to talk about it with them.

"Ian was…well, I'm questioning more about Ian every day, but…he was good. He hated—he hated being called Uncle. Hated it. I just called him Ian. He was just…there. Just there. Not a dad, or anything, just there. That was all I needed. And Jack was amazing, but she was just there, too. Not really…a nuclear family, but—but it was enough. It was always enough.

"Still, when I was younger. I wanted. I—I wanted—God, it sounds so stupid. I wanted an older brother. So badly I used to wish on stars. Because I had Tom, and Ian, and Jack, but—I was so jealous of Tom sometimes. Because his older brother, Jerry—he's a really good guy, Lion. Tom's with him right now because he doesn't want Tom around their parents. I was so jealous because Ian was always so adamant that I fight my own battles—he was big on independence. And Jack didn't always know how to help me. Jerry was always really protective of Tom, even when his parents weren't, and—"

I stopped, overwhelmed by the emotions in my chest, and swallowed down the lump in my throat, aware of my dwindling time.

"I wanted that. I wanted someone who would protect me, even when I didn't want it. Who would be there, when I needed help, who wouldn't…who would listen when I needed something and not tell me to try to fix it on my own first. Who listened when I needed help and knew what to do. Someone who would say…'I'll take care of it', you know? I—"

And then I did sob, because I couldn't help it. "You gave me that. You gave me that, Lion, and I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry, Lion, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry…thank you, thank you for being everything I needed, but please don't go, please, because I can't…I can't go through it again. I can't. You promised you'd be there. You promised you weren't going anywhere. You said—you said we'd figure it out together—you promised you'd be here, and I need you, please, so please wake up. Please."

And I forced myself to look at what I could see of his face, so pale and so slack and so still, and I knew that my pleas had never been answered, and I knew it wouldn't start now.

So I pushed it away, and I swallowed, and I cleared my throat.

"You…you always seemed like a wall," I admitted breathily, still crying, but stopping, because I had to stop. "You always seemed like this huge, unmovable wall, that you'd build in front of me whenever something happened. I remember that more than anything—I can't…I can't count the number of times you've put yourself in front of me, even when things didn't seem all that threatening. Like…you were just there, at the ready. A wall to protect me as best you could.

"I'm so sorry I let this happen to you. I am. I'll never forgive myself for this, but…I'll give you the time you need to heal. I'll…I don't know if I can be a wall like you, but it's my turn to protect you, okay? So…I have to leave. I need to go, and I'm sorry. I wanted to stay. I wanted this to work. I wanted—"

I stopped, took a breath, and continued, "I wanted this home to work. And I'm sorry it didn't. But I'll protect you, and Bear and Tiger. I'll protect K-Unit and all your families. I promise. I'll let you rebuild your lives, but I'm sorry I won't be there. I'm sorry for everything I've done to fuck this up. Just…you gave me a reason to live again, Lion. You and everyone else. A reason to…to stop looking for bridges. A reason to stop wondering if every height I see is enough to kill me. A reason to start looking forward to waking up. Just—reasons."

I squeezed the limp hand in my own and touched it to my forehead, closing my eyes. "Thank you for those reasons. I'm going, but…rebuild things, get better, but don't forget about me, yeah? I think you'll always be home, you and the others, so…don't die. So that one day, maybe…I can come home. Okay?"

He didn't answer. I didn't expect him to.

I put his hand down and pulled up the sheet a little, wondering if that would give him any extra warmth at all.

I didn't think I had much time left before Tiger got back. I had a few more things to do before Crawley arrived. I wanted—I knew I couldn't say goodbye to the others, but I wanted to leave them with something. Just something. I supposed I could do K-Unit together, but I thought maybe Fox needed something more.

I didn't have much time before Tiger and Bear arrived back, Tiger carrying a steaming cup of soup.

"Any change?" Bear asked when he saw me. There was pure weight in his eyes.

"No."

Bear nodded, expectant, and sat. Tiger gave me the soup, and I stood to give him his seat back.

"You can keep sitting there," he said. Tiger's voice had been unusually flat.

I shook my head, forcing a sip of the soup even though it made my stomach writhe. "I'm going to check on Snake. Just—I want to see him for myself."

Tiger blinked. "Sure. Just come back when you're done, alright?"

I nodded, confirmed the room number with them, and left, but not before pausing in the doorway. "I, um…I'm sorry. For everything."

Tiger glanced up, and despite the detachedness in his voice, his eyes narrowed. "Why do you say that?"

I looked at Lion and shrugged. "I just—I told him. I wanted to tell you. This has me realizing that…you know, when you need to say something, say it. You may not get second chances. So…thank you. Truly."

Tiger, though still suspicious, mostly just looked tired. Bear was still very, very quiet. "…alright. You're…it's okay, Alex. You didn't crash the bloody car."

I nodded, almost sobbed thinking that was the last exchange we'd have for…who knew how long, and left. I threw away the soup, ignoring the guilt. The smell was making me sick.

On my way, I went to one of the only saved numbers in my phone and called Efrem Johnson.

He answered and said, "Hello?"

"Henry needs you right now," I said without preamble, definitely not liking the perpetually sightless look in Bear's eyes, knowing his history. "Savernake Hospital. He's not injured, but Daniel's in critical condition."

There were a few seconds of silence on the other line before I heard rustling, someone moving around. "Thank you for calling; I'll come right now."

I swallowed the fear and found the elevator. "You said…I was too young." They already knew. He'd know soon enough. "I'm sixteen. And the people I was hiding from…they found me, and I have to go, because they hurt Lion and someone else because I refused the first time."

There was quite a bit more silence on the other line this time.

"I see," he said carefully.

"I need you to help them, please," I said carefully, vulnerably. "Because I don't know if they're going to hurt them again, and I won't be here to stop it. You said—you had friends. Um—"

"I'm going to take care of it," he said soothingly, but there was an undeniable edge to his voice. "They'll be safe. You worry about staying alive until we can figure something out."

I didn't have the energy to say that I didn't think this was something we could figure out. I could only allow myself to be overwhelmed with gratitude, because I believed this man would walk through hell for his son and the others, and I knew they'd be safe. "Thank you."

"What else do you need from me?"

"That's it. I just…wanted someone else to know."

"Okay. I'll keep this phone on. If you ever need anything, call, right away. Understand?"

"Yes, sir."

There was regret in his voice, hesitance, but still he said, "Alright. Be safe."

And I hung up.

I found Snake's room easily enough. I heard Wolf's quiet voice inside, talking to him about something with more fondness than I'd ever heard from the man. Eagle was sitting at the window, playing with a rubber band but smiling tiredly when Snake huffed a shadow of a laugh, and Fox was sitting in the plastic chair closest to the door while Wolf was in the recliner.

I stood in the doorway for a second, just watching, before anyone noticed me. Snake looked—well, he looked really, really bad, but he was awake and there was a hint of a smile on his face, despite the exhaustion in his eyes and the lines of his body. He was limp on the bed, casted more than I thought possible. There was gauze on his head, red specks on one of the bandages. His fingers were splinted, his arm casted. His already pale skin was absolutely white from the blood loss, despite the transfusion in progress. He looked broken.

"Alex," Fox said, noticing me first. "Come in. How's Lion?"

Wolf and Eagle flicked eyes to me, and I looked down, overwhelmed by shame and secrecy. "No change. Stable, for now."

"That's good, at least," Wolf said, leaning back.

"Hey, lad," Snake breathed, barely a whisper. He smiled, gentle and easy. "Why d'ya look like ye've seen a ghost? I'm not tha' pale, am'I?"

I smiled a little, more because I knew he wanted me to than anything. "Just a bit." I shifted on my feet, wondering how to say goodbye without saying it. Without tipping them off, because they weren't stupid, and I'd barely gotten away with it with Tiger and Bear. "…I'm sorry."

Snake's eyebrows pinched together in obvious displeasure, and he said slowly, "S'not yer fault, lad. Wolf told…" A labored breath, heavy with effort. "…told me what the note said. Not yer fault. At all."

I paused, and nodded, because I knew that's what he wanted.

"Um…I said this to Tiger and Bear," I said, trying not to feel embarrassed, knowing that the embarrassment of it was worth it if it would be my last words to them for a while. "This has made me realize that…we don't always, uh…get warnings. So…thank you. For everything. And I'm really sorry this happened."

They were much more concerned about these words than Tiger and Bear had been, still drowning in their worry for Lion and unable to truly see the double meaning to my words.

"…that sounds suspiciously like someone who's trying to leave," Fox said almost immediately, eyes narrowing.

It took everything in me, but I stood my ground and held his gaze as I shook my head. "I know. But it's not. I just…wanted to say it. Especially since Snake is awake. I said it—to Lion, but…"

And it was a cheap card, but a true one, because Fox's sharp gaze clouded with sympathy. "Oh."

I nodded again, and shifted, clearing my throat. "I need…to get back. Um…Wolf, Tiger needed the Sergeant's number."

"Huh? Oh, yeah," he said distractedly, fishing out his phone and handing it to me once he'd put in his passcode. "Under Callaway in contacts."

I took a picture of it and gave it back to him, pausing in the doorway. "I'll try to come back soon."

They took it as to Snake's room, which was exactly what I wanted.

I had ten minutes left.

Walking as slowly as I possibly could to the West side of the hospital, I called the Sergeant.

Fischer had said I couldn't tell my units what was going on. He never said the Sergeant.

It was a cheap technicality, but Fischer was using cheap tricks, too, that were more costly to me than he'd ever be able to comprehend.

He picked up on the second ring. "I don't have this number, which means you sure as hell shouldn't have mine—"

"It's Cub."

"Oh. Cub. Any word on Lion and Snake?"

"Snake's awake, doing well. Lion's still unconscious—medically induced coma until further notice."

"Dammit. Alright. Look, I know you're probably stretched thin with everything, but S-Unit is en route, ETA 20 minutes. They'll make sure any lingering SCORPIA agents don't breach the premises. I have no bloody idea what we're going to do about your custody—fucking stupid, by the way, you were going to get yourself bloody killed—but I'm working with a friend—"

"It wasn't SCORPIA," I interrupt, feeling the numbness settle in as I get further and further from them. "It was MI6. The Assistant Deputy Head called me and told me that he made it look like SCORPIA so my units would be looking for the wrong group when I disappeared. They're sending a car to get me. I'm leaving in about ten minutes. He threatened to finish the job if I don't go. I'm sorry, but you can't talk me out of it, and S-Unit won't be here in time to stop me. Even if you alert the others, they won't catch me in time."

The Sergeant was silent for a very long time. Long enough that I wondered if the call had dropped.

"…MI6 tried to fatally injure my soldiers?" He asked eventually.

There was an absolute blaze in his voice.

"Yes."

I could almost hear the way his jaw clenched, the way his fists tightened as he realized the depth and danger of the situation. "Jaguar, I am ordering you as your superior not to get into that car."

"I was never really Jaguar," I countered, reaching the Exit staircase to the drop-off and pickup area five floors down. I took each step like it was my last. "I'm sorry, but I can't obey that."

"Fine. Cub. Turn your arse around."

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck. This is an adult's world, Alex Rider. I know you didn't put yourself here, but there's no bloody fucking reason for you to put yourself back in."

"I have seven, and they're too important to listen to you," I said decisively.

"That is not your job—"

"It is now, and I truly appreciate you trying to stop me, but you can't," I said. "Just keep them safe. That's all I can ask you to do right now. I'm going back to MI6. Hopefully they'll leave them alone if I comply, but I can't say anything about SCORPIA. They threatened them if I ran, and even though this isn't running, I can't guarantee they won't see it as my trying to get away from them. You may have to warn S-Unit about threats from snipers—"

"Dammit, Alex, listen for a second—"

"—and other long-range attacks, and watch for hospital personnel who don't look familiar—"

"Fucking shut up and listen, brat—"

"—and thank you for trying. Really."

"Shit. Fuck. Stay the fuck alive, Alex. I'm not done. I go to war for my soldiers, you know that. Jaguar is my soldier, and so is Cub. You're a member of the SAS and I don't stand for this kind of bullshit. Stay alive. That's an order you're required to follow, understand?"

The Sergeant's voice was furious, reminiscent of Fox's when he was too worried to be anything but furious.

"I'll do my best." Despite my best efforts, I reached the ground floor and exited through the lobby. There was a shiny black car with government plates, and my stomach rolled. "I have to go."

"…if you stall, I can tell S-Unit to step on it—"

"No. But thank you."

Sergeant sighed. "Stay alive. We'll get you out."

"Thank you." I hung up before I could change my mind.

I looked at the time—I only had about four minutes, but I had a promise to keep, and that took priority.

It rang four times before Tom picked up.

"Alex? How's Lion, and Snake? Anything?" I hadn't completely lied to Tiger. I'd texted him in the waiting room, and he was worried.

"Snake's awake. Lion's still unconscious. Will be for a while."

"…okay. Okay, but that's good news about Snake. We're going to manifest some more good news soon, yeah? Oh, that's good, mate, that's really good. I was really worried. Listen, I can come out, help you guys keep the flat while you have to split your time—"

"It's time, Tom," I said breathlessly, and I didn't want to be dramatic, but they were the only words I could find. "I'm…this wasn't an accident. I have to go."

I could see the confusion in Tom's eyes. He was so expressive—I knew it by heart. I saw the way his eyes pinched in confusion, the way he shook his head at the words at first because he didn't really understand them, and then the way his eyes would darken, the way his mouth would open in reluctant horror at the words, the way he'd work his throat for a few seconds before he could say anything.

"…no," he said finally, small and disbelieving. "No. No, Alex."

"It was MI6, meant to look like SCORPIA. They have a car here. I have to go, or they're going to hurt them, or you. I can't do that again. I'm sorry, Tom."

"No. Turn around. Just—go back inside. Let the adults handle it. You've told people, right, people know now. It was different when it was just you, just us who knew, but now people know who can do something! Just let them—"

"I can't."

And then Tom sobbed. Once. Just once. "Alex, don't do this again."

"Bye, Tom. I'll call if I can. Promise." And I ignored the embarrassment, and knew that words were far more important than any shame that might accompany them. "Love you. Really."

I hung up before he could say anything and put my phone on silent in my pocket.

As I approached, I saw Crawley's eyes watching me in the side mirror. I stopped with my hand on the backseat's door, trembling like a leaf in a windstorm, praying for a miracle.

It ended, as I knew it would.

Knowing did not make forcing myself into the car and watching safety slip away any easier. In fact, it made it infinitely harder.

I'd been bitter for so long that I'd never gotten to say goodbye to anyone I'd lost thus far—that they had been ripped away with no warning and no chance for final words.

The grief racking my body at the knowledge that they didn't know that those words were my goodbye was so powerful that I wondered if I'd been lucky all along.

A/N: I made myself cry writing this hope you enjoyed

Thanks to the reviewers: MistyToryRabiyah, marthecaterpillar, MillieM04, Wraith and Demjin, jeps, SupernaturalCanary19, hunterjk123, OnlyABookworm, Cakemania225, DudeTrusttheCloak, Clover266, GrangerWinchester, Storyspinner16, Guest, Guest, Guest, Guest, Cortanacordeliacarstairs, KMER79, Guest, Ff1892, sakshi06, Guest, Jess, Guest, Guest, Chase

Storyspinner16: Sorryyyyyyyyy. Me too, tbh. Thanks :)

Guest (Sorry about my aggressive…): Lol that's okay it was funny

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Guest (This is such a wonderful story…): Thanks :) And yes lol

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Guest (eMoTiOnAl DaMaGe): Lol. Hehe you should expect it by now. Thanks! Maybe ;) Haha I appreciate it :)

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Chase: Thank you! I appreciate it :) Haha I have no idea, it's not finished yet. I'd love to let you guys know when, though :) Thank you for asking

Rest assured I'm crying with you. Godspeed.