Hopefully this one's a bit longer than the previous ones! Thank you so much for reading ! It really brings a smile to my face to see you guys saying that you enjoy reading my writing, haha, so thank you

One thing; I don't usually review and edit my writing past spell/grammar check (which is admittedly a bad habit, but alas, I am regrettably lazy) so if you find that I've made too many mistakes, definitely tell me so that I can get someone to help edit or just take the time to do it myself. Thanks!

Also (this one is important) (and also a spoiler for this chapter i guess) there is a WARNING in this chapter. The WARNING is that if you have previously or currently have/had PANIC / ANXIETY ATTACKS, then I advise you to be careful when reading or even stop reading here. I'd hate to trigger you. I used to have panic attacks, but since I've had therapy for it I'm not as easily triggered. This could potentially be a TRIGGER so if you're in danger of it, don't read this chapter. I tried to write the panic attack as I had experienced it when I was affected by them. So, again, be careful when reading if you might have residual triggers! Thank you so much !

For the eighth time thank you haha ! Enjoy :)

June 9th ; 6:45

Alex and Mrs. Jones routinely met in a conference room in the main office. It was near the front of the building, and was small. The room was similar to an interrogation room, actually, so it was understandable that, despite how easy the meetings had become, he had to swallow a feeling of misplaced claustrophobia.

Alex entered the room and sat at the chair he usually sat in, clasping his hands and resting them on the table in front of him. Mrs. Jones was always five or ten minutes behind him, so he had time to prepare for any questions. He reviewed the past few months.

He'd earned his unit's trust in groundbreaking time, even Panther, who had previously been skeptical. He was welcome with open arms; a relief, considering other possible outcomes of his being here. He was physically fitter- the obstacle course was easier for him, the aquatic courses were easier for him... He'd even begun to enjoy the runs every morning. Mondays and Fridays were ten kilometers, every other day was five. Alex often found himself near the front of the group, without realizing when he'd gotten there. He wouldn't even think, necessarily. Not like people in television shows and books did. No, he observed.

The way the ground felt beneath his feet, the woods around him, possible hiding places if he were to put himself in a scenario where he was alone on a run. He observed many things and lost himself in his musings, often. It worried Snake, actually. Alex could tell, the way he'd always glance at Alex, as if assuring himself that Alex was still there. Snake would normally be the one shaking his shoulder or calling his name a few times to break him out of his pondering. Nobody else saw it as odd, but for some reason, Alex could tell it bothered Snake.

The door to the room opened noisily, and Mrs. Tulip Jones stepped through. She was wearing black heels and a gray pantsuit, with jewelry hued red. Her lips, painted with dark red gloss, curved politely upwards. "Good morning, Alex."

Alex didn't reply. Just because he felt more comfortable with the occurence didn't mean he was happy about it. The other soldiers had more or less come to terms with his presence here, but it was the meetings with Mrs. Jones that kept him the odd man out. The "special" one. He was the only one meeting with an official. Outside of his unit, he heard rumours- he'd gone from being the politician's son to a possible fugitive sent to Brecon Beacons for disciplinary training. The soldiers accepted this more easily than the rich father gig, but Alex wasn't any more comfortable with it. No, he hated these meetings. How could he be expected to enjoy a meeting with someone who took part in ending his childhood early?

"How are you, Alex?" Mrs. Jones asked, her tone calm and quiet. She had the kind of voice that sounded like a dull hum. It was nice background noise.

"Good."

"How is your performance? Your training?"

"Both good."

"Yes, your file here says that. You've kept up nicely. Built muscle, I assume."

Alex nodded, and Mrs. Jones regarded him with pensive eyes.

"Your health is in excellent shape, I assume?"

"Yeah."

"I see. Good." Mrs. Jones watched him for what felt like a full minute. Her eyes searched his face.

"Tell me, Alex... Do you feel happy?"

Alex blinked, startled. It was an odd question, if put lightly. It was actually very unusual. She usually asked dull questions and accepted dull answers. Alex noticed her eyes trained on his and he quickly got himself together, realizing that she was looking for something.

"Yes."

"What is your- ah, excuse me for the wording... How is your mental health?"

Alex felt a fire light at the pit of his stomach. He fought to put it out. No need to get angry at a simple question. "Healthy." He answered. His tone was clipped.

Mrs. Jones waited a moment, as if expecting more, and nodded. "Okay." She stood and smiled at him. "I'll see you next week, Alex."

Alex watched her leave before getting up and leaving himself. He stood outside the building for a moment before noticing Mrs. Jones standing with her back to him a few meters away, dialing and holding a phone to her ear. She didn't see him, and he quickly ducked behind an alcove in the wall, barely able to hear her.

"Alan." She greeted pleasantly, and Alex felt the familiar furious warmth inside of him. He swallowed. "He's physically pristine, but he doesn't seem to have progressed mentally, yet." She paused. "Yes, his attitude is the same. Yes. I understand. I'll get back to you. Goodbye." There was the click of the end button, and after a moment, Alex heard her walking away.

He stood with his back to the wall, processing the new information. His attitude... his physical condition... mental progression... They were looking at his stability? Physically and mentally?

Alex raised a hand to his eyes and rubbed them lightly, confused. He was fine. In comparison to other teenagers, his physical condition was perfect. And mentality? He was fine, he was okay here, he didn't really mind. He didn't have a chance in high school anymore, and he refused to be the nineteen year old in a sophomore class. Before MI6, he had been in the top ten smartest kids in his year, if not the smartest. His classes had always been breezy and fun, and then the Stormbreaker situation happened, and he plummeted. None of the classes he'd signed up for were counted as credits anymore. He had most definitely failed his freshman year- or would have, if MI6 hadn't stepped in. Blunt had informed him that he wouldn't have to go to school anymore, that he could get an approved tutor, that he could continue his studies alone. He supposed that insignificant promise didn't apply here. An SAS camp was no place for a normal civilian.

"Cub!"

Alex glanced up sharply to see Panther strutting towards him. Alex pushed himself off the wall and headed towards Panther, calming himself down, reminding himself where he was.

"What are you doing?" Panther asked, casting a confused glance at the office.

"M- I was on my way to the mess hall." Alex had recently been lying about the meetings, not mentioning them unless directly asked. He wanted to seem like one of them, and if they could forget the fact that he was short of twenty years younger than most of these men, Alex suspected his relationships would improve greatly. Alex licked his lips. Was that was Jones and Blunt wanted?

"Oh, me too. Walk with me." Panther nodded, setting off without waiting for Alex, who caught up to him.

Panther was a short, built man with tan skin and dark hair. He had the look of a lawyer, or a doctor. His jaw was sharp and his cheekbones rose high. But when he spoke, his general vernacular cast the image of a construction worker or a sandwich maker. Alex had once heard Panther musing about what he would do when he retired from the military, with a few other men. He had been talking about his wife, and her cooking, and how she wanted to make a restaurant. He said he wanted to help when he was finished with his work here. He wanted to start a restaurant with her and his son, who was due to come into the world in autumn.

"So, Cub..." Panther started, pausing to think. Alex waited. "Cub, how old are you?" His tone changed from cautious to curious. Alex suspected that he decided not to ask whatever he was originally planning on asking. Interesting. Notable.

"How old do you think I am?" Alex inquired back.

Panther's mouth twisted in frustration. "I have no bloody clue, kid- shit, none of us do!" Panther sighed heavily. "We don't know anything about you, Cub. You know tons about us. Can't you tell us anything? We're your unit, for christ's sake, at least for a little. And while you're not really a soldier, while you're here, we're responsible for you. So we need to know about you. Understand?"

He wasn't intending to sound as rude as he did, but that didn't make it any easier to hold back a sarcastic retort. "Of course, but I'm not authorized to tell you anything." He paused. "I don't see a problem, though. I'm physically viable and I'm not dead weight when it comes to gun training and simulations." Alex shrugged, and Panther glanced at him in irritation.

"I'm not questioning your abilities, Cub, we've all seen that you aren't dead weight. Far from that. But it would be nice to know who you are, too."

Alex couldn't think of anything to say. He didn't reply.

Sighing, Panther shook his head. "Just think about it, 'right? They may not show it, but the whole unit is just as fed up with not knowing anything about you other than your nickname as I am." When Alex failed to respond, Panther patted him on the shoulder once and said a quiet goodbye.

Alex stopped walking when Panther was nearly out of view. He wasn't hungry, now that he thought about it.

Alex turned and headed towards K-Unit's cabin, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

June 9th ; 7:55

Alex's feet are cold on the ground. Where are his shoes? He looks around; he's in a hallway. It's damp and the walls are rugged rocks, sharp to the touch and slick. The ground is wet and water falls in droplets down the walls. It's dark, and when he looks up, there's no ceiling. He can see the stars and the moon and they're bright but not bright enough. They don't light the way well enough, and Alex slips, falling to his knees. He gets up, wiping his hands on his jeans, and starts forward, walking down the hallway. His eyes are trained on the moon. Where is he? How did he get here? He looks down at the hallway. His path has become more narrow, the rocks are pressing up against his arms. He didn't even notice; they're digging into his skin, breaking flesh. Blood drips down his arms to his hands to his fingers and onto the ground. It mingles with the water and Alex can't tell the difference. He's trapped and he turns around and around but he isn't sure which way he came and the hallway is so narrow- he can't breathe. He's lost his state of mind, he can't figure anything out. His knees give out and before they can hit the concrete he's falling. He tries to grab onto something, but his fingers find rocks and the rocks cut into his skin and he cries out, somebody help, please, someone-

Alex jerked upwards, a shout dying on his lips. He was sweating and coughing and when he raised his hands to rub his eyes, they met wet cheeks and falling tears. He was crying.

Alex swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at his face, hyperventilating. He couldn't breathe, he couldn't see. He couldn't stop crying, for fuck's sake, Alex, stop the goddamn crying.

Alex stood to go to the sink and wash his face when his legs gave and he fell to the cabin floor, still breathing erratically. He coughed and heard himself sob and gasp like a man desperate for air. He crawled forward until his hands met the wall and he sat against it, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. His head fell onto his knees and he tried to control his breathing. He was trapped, he was going to die, he was going to die, he was dead-

"Hey!"

He started, gasping and whining like a startled dog. There were noises, muffled and distant, and Alex realized he couldn't feel his hands, and his head swam and he was so dizzy-

"Cub."

Cub? What... Who?

"Cub, listen to me, okay? Can you do that?"

Listen... Yeah, he could try. Alex nodded, still sucking in air. His face was hot and wet and when he brought his hands up to rub his eyes he nearly vomited.

"Cub, you're having a panic attack. Whatever you're feeling is real. You're not hallucinating, you're experiencing this, but I need you to let me help you get through it."

What he was feeling? Unadulterated fear, mindless frenzy. He was dying, he couldn't breathe. It was real? Help. He needed help. He tried to say okay, but it came out as a wheeze, and he tried apologizing, but they came out in similar states. It didn't matter, the voice was back. Alex tried to focus.

"First; breathe. Cub, you have to breathe, okay? Can you breathe with me? Let's count to ten, taking breaths. One..." Breath. "Two..." Breath. "Three..." Breath. "Four..."

Ten came in hours and Alex was beginning to see straight, and there were people standing near him, but not crowding him. His throat still felt constricted, but it was becoming easier. He sucked in a breath, and the voices cautioned him from going too fast.

"You're doing great." Said the Voice. Alex breathed. "Cub, can you tell me why you're feeling this way?"

"I-" Alex gasped, and the voice told him to take his time. He breathed heavily for an unknown amount of time before continuing. "A dream?"

"A bad dream?"

"Ye... yeah."

"Okay, I understand." The voice was gentle. Alex felt secure. "Do I have your permission to touch you? I'm going to lift you off the floor, okay?"

A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked, gasping, heaving.

"I shouldn't have done that, I won't do that again," assured the voice. "It's okay, tell me when you're ready. Or if you want to move at all. We'll do this your way."

Alex licked his lips, his hands moving about his face, his fingers running through his hair. "Do it."

A hand slowly placed itself under his left elbow, and then another under his right elbow. The fingers tightened carefully, and lifted Alex off the ground. The hands guided him to the bed he had been lying on before, and let go once he was sitting. He felt someone sit next to him. Away from him, the voice ordered something softly, and after a moment, there were footsteps. Alex couldn't let his mind stray from breathing, couldn't let himself look around at the people in the room. He had to breathe.

"Okay, Cub, you're okay."

Alex nodded, inhaling through his nose, exhaling from his mouth. He was okay.

After what felt like hours, Alex's vision sharpened, and his thoughts became clear. He rubbed his hands on his pants and looked at the person next to him. Snake sat, looking patiently at Alex, smiling encouragingly when their eyes met.

Alex swallowed. Had he said anything? Shit. "Snake... what...?"

"You had an anxiety attack." Seeing his look of confusion, Snake remedied, "A panic attack. Very common. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah- I'm fine." Alex said, possibly too quickly for Snake's liking. The man frowned.

"I said it was common -and it is- but this panic attack was... violent. It was more intense than the common panick attack. Has this ever happened before?"

Alex didn't answer, gnawing at his lip. He didn't think so. Would he remember?

"Cub," Snake said sternly, taking his silence as resistance, "I'm the unit's medic. You need to tell me this kind of thing in order for me to be sure of your safety. Has this happened before?"

"I- no, I don't think so."

Snake nodded. "Okay. I'm not sure if you remember, but you mentioned a dream triggering you. Do you remember the dream?"

Alex didn't remember much of anything before being sat on the bed by -presumably- Snake. He shook his head. Snake sighed.

"I was afraid of that. We don't know what caused it exactly." Snake studied Alex for a moment. "Do you have nightmares, Cub?"

Alex glanced at Snake, and Snake must've seen something in his eyes, because he began to speak. Before he could, Alex snapped, "No."

"Are you sure? I can't stress how important it is that you tell me the truth." Snake pressed, eyes intense and serious.

"I do not have nightmares." Alex repeated firmly, not releasing his eye contact with Snake. After a moment, Snake begrudgingly accepted his answer.

"Alright, I'm trusting you here, Cub." Snake said, tone almost lecturing. After another serious stare down, he stood, seemingly satisfied. "We came to get you because the Sergeant wants to see us about a mission, of sorts." Snake helped Alex stand, and Alex frowned.

"He said he wanted me there?" Blunt had been specific when he'd said he didn't want Alex's identity compromised. Wasn't this going to throw all that work away?

"He did." Snake said, looking hesitant. Sending a teenager into the field was probably striking a bad chord in Snake.

His hesitation reminded Alex that not all adults were Alan Blunt. He often forgot.