A/N: I'll try and be quick here, x). I'm not really one hundred percent happy with this chapter, but I've sat here for a fair while now trying to adjust and nitpick it into something better but it just isn't working, so it would be really helpful if people could offer me some criticism. Positive feedback is very welcome too, of course. I had to beta this chapter myself, so any and all mistakes fall on my shoulders. I hope everybody can find something in this chapter that they like, and I will try and update soon. x)

Warnings: Swearing, dark themes, depression.

Never Back Down
Chapter Four

Snake looked thoughtful.

He scanned the inside of his fridge, tongue clicking absently as he tried to decide what to choose. In the end, his gaze settled on an innocuous packet of prepackaged lettuce - it was tasteless. It didn't smell too much. That being said, it didn't have the high calorie count that Cub desperately needed.

Still, they had to start somewhere.

"Cub," the kid was sitting on the counter beside the fridge, exactly where Snake had left him. He waited for Cub to focus on him before holding the product out for inspection. "What about this?"

- his arms swept out in front of him as he ran. It was almost like he was swimming, knocking aside plants that were twice his size to make a path. Behind him the older boy wheezed, trying his hardest to keep up with Alex.

Twigs snapped underfoot and suddenly they could breathe, the stifling confines of the sugarcane plantation rapidly disappearing behind them. In the distance there were lights, the bright canopy of stars overhead illuminating a cloud of smoke as it rose from someone's chimney. Without a second thought, both boys angled towards it, legs and arms pumping franticly as they tried to close the gap.

Alex shot over the stone wall first, landing on the other side in a low crouch. The boy thumped down beside him a moment later with markedly less grace.

"Have we lost them?"

"I don't know."

"Where are we?"

"It looks like a veggie patch…"

The boy grunted, and then gurgled wetly. Alex turned.

No.

Oh God, no.

The damage was done before Alex could react. Scared blue eyes stared out at him, moonlight glinting off the knife protruding from the boy's neck. He launched forward as the boy started clawing at his throat, knowing it was too late but still needing to help. One step away and something slammed into him, driving him down against the damp earth and keeping him there.

The boy screamed a loud, blood-filled scream as his assailant twisted the knife.

Alex couldn't look.

A hand gripped his chin and jerked his head up, forcing him to watch as they disemboweled his struggling friend. The boy didn't stop howling, didn't stop moving until they tore the skin right off his -

"Just breathe, mate. Breathe. That's it." Snake pulled his arm back from where he'd hooked it underneath Cub's knees, letting his other arm rest heavily about the kid's shoulders. The second he'd sensed the panic attack, the soldier had swept Cub off the counter and placed him on the floor. Covering the kid's mouth, Snake pressed his thumb against Cub's left nostril. It was a basic home cure for hyperventilating – lessening the intake of oxygen and therefore raising the level of carbon dioxide in the blood. "You're all right. Just focus on breathing – I know it's hard, but this will work. Trust me."

It did.

Snake offered a reassuring smile that crinkled the corner of his eyes, letting Cub shrug him off when he was ready. "I take it lettuce isn't going to work, then? Do you want to talk about it?"

Cub silently found his feet. Using the counter and Snake's forearm to steady himself, he shot the man a black look. 'Oh, yeah,' he seemed to be saying. 'I want to relive that again by talking about it.'

Then Cub spotted the packet Snake had thrown away in his haste to get to him, going as green as the leaves trapped inside the clear plastic. Snake helped steer the kid around to face the other direction before picking it up and tossing it into the bin. "This wasn't happening before, Cub. What cha-"

"You made me remember."

Cub was shaking. Little tremors running through him that made it seem like he was vibrating.

"How did I do that?" Snake asked, noting the way the kid was curling in on himself, like an animal trying to protect an injury. He hung back a little way, not wanting to incite Cub's raw emotions any further.

"You made me talk," Cub spat accusingly. "You made me tell you. You brought it to the surface. You let it come out."

"I didn't make you do anything," Snake said sternly. "You told me on your own free wil-"

"You threatened to take me to that bitch-"

"Be respectful," Snake reprimanded calmly, not reacting in the slightest as Cub rounded on him, expression twisted in a snarl.

"- so I had to talk. You know who she works for. Whose side are you on? You said you didn't want me going back to them but you still threatened to take me to her, you –"

"Yours."

"- bloody prick -"

"I'm on your side, Cub."

"- never should have fucking listened to you -"

"Cub -"

"– never should have trusted - "

"Cub!"

"– worse than, than Blunt –"

Snake caught the raving boy in a headlock. "I said listen to me!" He growled at the kid, for the first time letting something harsher bleed into his tone. "I didn't make you talk. I didn't make you tell me the truth, did I? You could have lied. You work in intelligence, that's what you do. But you didn't – because you wanted to tell me, Cub. You wanted me to know."

Cub was still. Unnaturally so.

"But it isn't going to be a quick fix. Telling me what you did, that was good – really good. But there is a lot more where it came from and we've got a long way to go." He loosened his grip. Cub could slide on out now – if he wanted. The kid didn't move. "I'm going to help you, I am. You can hold me to that. But we have to sort out each issue you have. Sort them until there isn't any left to sort. Are you all right with that?"

No answer.

"Cub?"

The kid pulled away from him, staring at a particular spot on the wall like it was the most interesting thing in the world. Snake sat down in a chair with a sigh, running on emotional reserves that he hadn't tapped in years. In the past there had always been someone looking out for him – he'd never really done it for somebody else. It was hard – bloody hard. He was going to buy Wolf a round of drinks the next time they went out pub crawling. And pay for the taxi after, too.

"Why is it so bad today, Cub?" Snake rubbed his temples, thinking that maybe if he rubbed hard enough, he could make his troubles go away. "Let's be realistic here. I've put food in front of you before. Christ, you made dinner for us both not two hours ago. What sparked the memories? Earlier, with Eric – would you say it was… the smell?"

Cub nodded. It was such a slight movement that it was almost imperceptible, but Snake caught it.

"All right," Snake accepted easily. "But after – after the window… with the hand… That was different, wasn't it? I only had to mention something for you to remember, then. And right now, with the panic attack – that was different again. It was a visual sign that set you off. Do you know what that means, Cub?"

Cub inclined his head in Snake's direction; something the man saw as the physical equivalent of asking 'what?'

"Now that I've had time to think about it, I can pretty much say for certain that your trigger isn't food, Cub. For one, a trigger is generally one factor – there is one thing about it that makes you react. In the instance of food, that specific aspect would be something like taste, touch, smell or sight. Not all of them, just one. And you happen to have three. Secondly, food is a large category – there are too many different varieties for you to have made negative connections with everything. I think that you've made food – or at least believe that food is – your trigger inside your head, which is why it features so strongly in your episodes."

Cub was openly staring at him now, making direct eye contact - a sign that Cub was regarding him as an equal, or at least somebody worth listening to.

"I didn't realise you were a psychiatrist," Cub griped, sarcastic but without any real bite. "Well, go on. What is my trigger?"

"Before I left to answer the phone, when we were handling the food – you were fine." Snake paused, lips twitching into a sardonic smile. "Well, not fine. But better than now, if you will."

"What of it?" The kid snapped, clearly not appreciating the assumption about his general state of being.

"You had the memory after you cut." Snake answered as though he was stating a fact – tone leaving no room for argument. "That's your trigger Cub. Cutting is your trigger."

"No," Cub was adamant, so resolute in his denial that Snake's explanation didn't seem to bother him at all.

"Think about it."

"I don't need to. You're wrong."

"Cub," Snake said gently. "What does an animal do when it's injured?"

An uncaring shrug and Cub was suddenly inspecting his nails, no longer interested in what Snake had to say.

"They run, Cub – they hide. And when they're backed into a corner, they fight. Sound familiar?"

"So, what? You're saying I'm an animal now?" Cub asked flatly, though there was something in his tone. Hurt, hidden beneath layers of anger and sarcasm, but it was there, the slight lowering of his voice telling Snake as much.

"No," Snake corrected quickly, hands flicking up in a placating motion. "I'm saying that pain affects us in certain ways. It's how our bodies tell us that something's wrong, and usually pain is followed or preceded by fear. The most basic, instinctive reaction to that is fight or flight – and while a lot of people can control that, you can't, Cub."

There was silence. Snake pressed on.

"I haven't read your files. I don't know what they've made you do. But my guess is that you've been hurt too many times by too many bad people. Pain isn't just physical for you anymore. That's why you react so strongly to it. And that's okay, Cub… Are you listening to me?"

Cradling his wounded wrist against his chest, Cub had backed up into the table, his eyes downcast, body rigid. Snake opened his mouth to ask again, but let it snap shut as Cub bobbed his head once.

"Too many bad people…" There was a derisive snort, and Cub looked up, gaze overbright with barely repressed emotion. "And nobody helped me. Not a single fucking one of you…"

Snake sighed. "I know -"

"No you don't," Cub interrupted sharply, pushing off from the table and taking a few threatening steps forward. "You don't know what it's like. You have K-Unit – Wolf, Eagle, Fox... You have them to watch your back, and who do I have?" He laughed harshly. "No one – I get no one, Snake, and stop looking at me like that, because it's true. Do you know what it's like? Waiting for back-up that never comes?"

A pause;

"You don't. You don't have a bloody clue. I sit there, and I wait, because most times I don't have a choice and they laugh at the kid who's stupid enough to believe that somebody out there thinks he's worth saving."

Cub sniffed, sounding too snotty for his own liking, and tried to wipe his nose on his sleeve. Tried to, because suddenly there was a hand on his head, warm and heavy and pulling his forehead in to rest on Snake's jacket.

"That isn't going to happen again." Snake rumbled, strong and sure and solid in Cub's ear, placing his other hand on top of his first and resting his chin on it. The added weight drove the kid into him harder, but neither was complaining. "I'm going to try my hardest to not let that happen again, Cub."

Snake wasn't sure if he could make good on his words. Cub was a mess – a huge, tangled web of confusion and pain and hurtful experiences. Of bad people, bad people pretending to be good and good people who couldn't help him because the bad people were dictating his world. It was all so completely screwed up, but now wasn't the time to worry about it. He could do that later – could do it later because the biggest adversary in Cub's life right now was Cub, and Cub was crumbling against his chest.

He was trembling again; sporadic, juddery shivers that were getting more violent with each second that passed. Cub was crying, silent tears dribbling down his face and into the rough fabric of Snake's clothes. Snake said nothing, feeling the wet, listening to the soft sniffles and knowing that the best thing he could do was be there. Cub was a tall kid, but his entirely too-thin frame made him seem so much smaller, so much more vulnerable. Snake pulled back and looked down into the mussed, blonde hair of his charge, deciding right there and then that no matter what, he wasn't letting go.

Pushing the popper-top closed with his thumb, Snake picked up the black, plastic drink bottle he usually brought with him to the gym. He gave it a shake, hearing the concoction inside slosh about as it mixed together, thickening into what he wanted. Satisfied, he re-popped the top and handed it to Cub.

Cub accepted it quietly.

Collecting the various cups, measuring spoons and bowls on the bench, the soldier started to fill the sink. Squirting apple-scented washing liquid into the lukewarm water, he wandered off to clear up the rubbish and put away the used ingredients before returning to switch off the tap.

"What's in it?" Hesitant, soft. Snake didn't glance back to look at Cub, instead squeezing the moisture out of his sponge with a clenched fist.

"I'm not telling you," was all he said, rubbing a plate clean and placing it in the washing-up rack. Picking up a cup, he caught the faint smell of coffee and thought it was a good idea, briefly stepping away from the sink to put the kettle on. "Don't open it, either. Don't even think about it. Just drink."

Cub shifted, squinting into the tiny opening of the bottle and seeing nothing but black. His fingers ghosted over the lid, tightening as if they were about to unscrew it, before dropping back to his side. He stared at it for a moment longer, contemplating, searching, and then, very, very slowly, he raised it to his lips.

It was not something he'd tasted before – too bland, with a texture that reminded him of uncooked batter. He sucked any residue off the top so he wouldn't be able to look at it before pulling it from his mouth.

"Well?"

Snake was elbow deep in frothy water, watching him out of the corner of his eye. Cub huffed an irate sigh, flicking his gaze away to land on the denim jacket slung over the back of a chair. He colored slightly as he caught sight of the wet patch that had yet to dry, feeling irrevocably embarrassed. Only Jack had ever seen him like that, and breaking down in front of a woman was somehow easier to forgive and forget than breaking down in front of, well – Snake.

Cub snapped his gaze back to the man in question, found the solder fully facing him and suddenly remembered why he hadn't wanted to look over there in the first place.

"I'll live," he muttered, shoving the drink back into his mouth in order to focus on something other than his wounded pride.

Snake fought a smile. He turned back to the task at hand, glancing out the window every now and again as he scrubbed. Finishing up, he pulled the plug and grabbed a mug to start making his coffee. He was halfway through opening the tin with his pre-ground, instant coffee mix when he caught sight of the car.

He frowned.

"Cub," he said calmly, setting the tin down on the counter. "Finish making this for me, would you? I have black, two sugars."

He paused in the doorway. "And don't touch the knives. Shelley's due to call soon, and if you pull another stunt, I won't watch what I say. Understood?"

Eagle never lied about his lineage.

He was an honest bloke, and if someone asked, he had no problem telling them where he came from or who his parents were. Enemy insurgents and criminals excluded, of course. Most people resented him for it, for having landed on a bed of gold from the moment he popped out into the world. Others loved him for the same reason, thinking that maybe if they got close enough, he would share his good fortune with them.

Very few didn't give two shits about him, and treated him like a regular guy. Those were the people Eagle respected and cherished the most. But he would never tell them that.

Snake had been riding him hard about returning an Xbox game; Modern Warfare 2. The finicky bastard had insisted that he wanted the copy Eagle had left his flat with, not a brand-spanking-new store-bought copy because Eagle may have, accidently, lost it. Which begged the question; what was wrong with this guy? Eagle would have happily doled out the cash to avoid the three hours he'd spent sorting through crap to find it. But Snake had said that because other people didn't have the luxury of throwing money at their mistakes to fix them, Eagle could get off his arse and find the game himself.

So Eagle had, after several threats of Snake disowning him and many pointless hours of moaning and griping about it. Snake's coveted game was currently riding shotgun, along with something Snake would like marginally less. A bag with enough clothes to last a couple of days, because Eagle may have applied Snake's advice to an area where money did happen to fix everything, and now he needed a place to stay while his lady friend calmed down. Scowling, he pulled into the parking lot of Snake's apartment building.

Throwing a rather baleful glare at his passenger, because it was indirectly to blame for this entire situation, Eagle didn't notice the speed bump until he rolled over it three times faster than he should have. He flew forward, only to meet the unyielding force of his seatbelt.

A little bit shocked, Eagle thumped back into his seat and promptly slowed his car down. His heart barely had time to recover before it started jack hammering again as his mobile buzzed to life on the dashboard.

'Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah. Should of paid attention, should have read those signs.'

Eagle scowled at the irony of it all, and then flipped his phone open.

"Lo'."

'Hey, it's me.' There was a pause on the other end of the line. 'Snake.'

Eagle snorted. "Yeah, I know. Caller ID and all, plus your accent is a dead giveaway. Look, I just pulled into your parking lot. Can't this wait a minute?"

'No, I need a favour.'

With an audible sigh, Eagle demanded: "What is it?"

'Run down to the store and get me some protein powder, uh,' Eagle waited patiently for his comrade to continue, imagining the way Snake was probably pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to remember. It was amusing. 'The weight gain version. Get… get a couple of big tubs of it, would you? I'll pay you for it later.'

"A couple of tubs?" He repeated incredulously, eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. Eagle could understand using weight gain supplements when they were on active duty – the SAS required intense physical activity and sometimes it was difficult for their bodies to maintain the harsh pace. But while they were on leave, living a brief snapshot of civilian life? It didn't make sense. "What are you planning to do? Roll everywhere?"

'Don't bitch at me.' Snake replied curtly, every bit deserving of the title 'Lieutenant'. The Scottish soldier was one rank below Wolf and several higher than Eagle – he would have already been leading his own squadron, if it wasn't for the history that clouded his name. 'Just do it.'

"Sorry," Eagle apologised, even though he was anything but. He idly turned the steering wheel, executing a slow U-turn in front of the signs that strictly forbade him to do so. "But seriously, mate. You want me to do your grocery shopping? I wasn't aware that I was in possession of a bloody vagina…"

'Yeah… About that… Wolf and I were going to tell you. We just never found the right time, what with you being such a delicate flower and all… We were afraid of being too rough, you know?'

Eagle sputtered wordlessly. "Y-y-"

'I know it's hard, but try not to shatter while you're getting my shit, all right? It's important."

"You prick."

But alas, there was nothing but the dial tone.

Crisis successfully averted for the time being, Snake returned to the kitchen. There was a steaming mug waiting for him on the counter, and Cub was still dutifully sipping the protein shake Snake had made him.

Collecting his coffee, the soldier settled against the counter with a groan, inhaling the strong scent before taking a drink.

"I spat in that."

"Huh?" Snake asked, poised to take another gulp from his flowery mug. He would admit that the intertwining tulips and daffodils were mildly emasculating, but the crockery had been a gift from his Ma.

"I spat in your coffee." Cub explained after a moment, quickly bringing the fond memories Snake was reliving to a screeching halt. Feeling slightly nauseous, he poured his coffee down the drain and placed his cup in the sink.

"… Information I could have used a drink ago."

"Sorry."

For once, Cub actually sounded contrite. Having something in his stomach must have lifted his mood.

That didn't stop Snake from slipping into disapproving parent mode, though. "If you were going to regret it, why did you do it in the first place? It's kind of counterproductive, don't you think?"

Cub shrugged nonchalantly. "It seemed like a good idea at the time."

Snake exhaled loudly. What else had he been expecting? Of course it seemed like a good idea at the time - that was the main reason a lot of people did what they did. Leaning back against the bench, Snake glanced over at the seated teenager. "So what changed?"

"I felt bad…"

Well, Snake supposed, there was always that.

Shelley checked in an hour later.

Cub had drifted out of the room a while ago, settling down in the lounge to watch a late-night movie that had enough explosions and cheesy spy music for Snake to place as Mission Impossible without bothering to check. But as Snake moved to answer the out-dated chime in the hallway, the kid reappeared, expression alert.

"Do you mind?" The soldier asked, amused, as he reached for the phone. Cub cocked a challenging eyebrow in return.

"Not at all."

Snake shook his head, picking up and answering with his standard greeting. "Hello?"

Cub shuffled forward, listening to the disembodied voice bleeding out of the phone on their end.

"Yes, good evening to you too, Shelley. I-"

There was a bang on the door, startling Cub into the air and Snake out of his sentence. The voice sounded again, asking if something was wrong, and whoever it was outside continued to knock, albeit more enthusiastically this time around.

Snake pulled the phone from his ear, pressing the mouthpiece into his shoulder as he addressed Cub, tone full of authority; "Can you get that?"

Alex simply stared at him. And stared at him. And stared at him some more, expression flat lining when Snake simply stared back, refusing to back down. The heavy-handed pounding had given them a fair idea of who it was standing on the other side of the door. The slightly muffled shout of "Oi, Snake," that followed shortly after validating their suspicions. Somebody from K-Unit, and Alex knew that it wasn't Ben.

That left one of two options: Wolf or Eagle. At the present time, Alex was not really interested in dealing with either.

Snake clicked his fingers. Alex refocused on him instantly, watching as the man mouthed 'now, please,' at him with a meaningful jerk of his head. The teenage spy deliberated for a moment, weighing up his options before coming to a decision.

He flipped the soldier off.

There was silence. Free hand resting on his hip, Snake regarded his ward in a way that had Alex recoiling slightly, skin prickling with unease. Snake was different. He was defined more by the people he wasn't, rather than the person he was. At least that was how it worked in Alex's mind. Snake wasn't Jack, or Ben, or Wolf, or Blunt, or Jones – he was Snake. He could navigate through the mess that was Alex and make things mean things – he could make things matter.

In other words, he knew exactly how to reach him. And Alex was as scared by that as he was reassured.

"All right, Cub," Snake said amiably, letting the rude gesture slide off of him like oil on water. He offered the phone "I'll get it. But that means you will have to keep Shelley occupied while I'm go-"

Alex swatted Snake's hand away so hard that the sound of flesh hitting flesh echoed in the confined hall – a red handprint blossoming across the man's pale skin. Without a word, Alex headed out to answer the door, dragging his feet as he went.

"Good man," Snake clapped him on the back as he passed by, and then returned to his conversation.

"Cub?" A voice said incredulously. There was a deep Irish accent – one that was much too familiar for his liking. Sure enough, a closer inspection of the subject revealed two very important things; a gangly body clad in masochistic leather, and red sunglasses that hid a pair of eyes blacker than pitch. "You look like shit. What's wrong with y-"

BANG.

Alex calmly shut the door in Eagle's face.

Back in the hallway, Snake glanced up just in time to see his rebellious co-inhabitant stalking back into the lounge room.

"Answer it yourself."

Snake looked at Eagle's duffel blankly.

Calmly relieving his friend of the plastic bag full of the goods he'd asked for, he set them against the wall. "No."

"C'mon, mate. It's only for a couple of days." Eagle crossed the threshold uninvited, blatantly ignoring the look on his teammate's face that clearly called bullshit. "You won't even know I'm here. Promise."

"What about Cub?" Snake asked flatly, and then growled as Eagle's duffel bag was pushed into his arms - like he was a bloody butler, or something. He pierced Eagle with an irate stare, violently throwing the bag back when the man's only response was to blink, completely and utterly clueless.

Barely managing to catch it in time, Eagle grunted as it came uncomfortably close to smacking him in the nose. "What about him?"

"I only have two bedrooms." And he wasn't about to throw Cub onto the couch, either. Eagle was too tall to fit on the two-person seat, and Snake would kick his friend out to sleep in the subway before he gave up his own bed. Scowling darkly, Snake closed the front door a little harder than necessary. Eagle was grinning at him, cheeks dimpling with roguish charm as the man correctly assumed he was allowed to stay.

"Don't worry about it," Eagle reassured in a very non-reassuring way. "Cub can bunk with - "

"Snake," a voice interrupted quickly from the lounge.

"-me," Eagle finished, swinging his head around in confusion. He stepped sideways and looked down the hall. Not seeing whoever had spoken, he turned back to Snake with a frown. "Was that Cub?"

"Aye," Snake agreed, listening for the footsteps that signalled the kid's retreat into a deeper part of the flat. There weren't any. It would take a long while for him to stop expecting a normal kid where there wasn't one.

"Where'd he go?" Eagle was peering out into the hall again, insatiably curious. Snake resisted the urge to bark at him to pull his head in, the image of a bullet grazing Eagle's skull still fresh in his memory. That time there wasn't any lasting damage – just an unhelpfully knocked out Eagle and enough blood to make the rest of them panic. "He hasn't done a runner, has he?"

"No," Snake pulled himself back to the present, making a mental note to discuss tactical insertion and team logistics with Wolf later. "He hasn't. Cub's just a mite shy of newcomers, is all."

Realisation dawned on the other man's features, along with indignation at the suggestion that he was a stranger. Eagle had been the first in the ICU after they got the call - the first to sit by their Cub, who was pasty and white and breathing off a ventilator. Ben was out of the country. Wolf's phone had died because he never turned it off. And Snake – well. He was being Snake. "He's hiding, then?"

"He isn't hiding." Snake said on the kid's behalf, following Eagle's initiative and leaning into the hallway before calling out: "What was your word for it again, Cub?"

"Contemplating," Cub supplied flatly, sounding like he was somewhere in the kitchen. Unease stirred in Snake's gut, but he promptly squashed it. The rational part of his brain telling him that Cub wouldn't dare do anything when there was another member of K-Unit in the house – it wasn't worth the trouble.

He hoped.

"That's right," Snake continued easily, raising his voice as he addressed Cub for a second time. "And what is it that you are contemplating again, Cub?"

"I'm contemplating the situation." Cub's voice drifted from what Snake guessed was the lounge room.

There was a brief moment of silence, broken by Eagle's bewildered; "What situation?"

Snake appeared unjustifiably amused. "You, mate."