I'm very sorry this took so long to update. And I'm super super grateful to anyone who reviewed, faved and followed. It seriously means a lot that anyone is getting enjoyment out of something I'm writing. Only one chapter and an epilogue to go now.

(Warning for references to abuse)

IV

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Rider is awake again when Wolf enters the cell. He looks like he hasn't slept in days now, but Wolf doesn't make any comment on it this time. If he wants to torture himself, fine. Wolf isn't here to babysit him.

"Morning, Cub."

Was that a flinch? Wolf can't quite tell.

"Feeling talkative today?"

Rider answers with his usual silence. Fuck it, Wolf thinks. He only has hours left before Six arrives to take over the assignment. Rider has made it clear that he isn't going to talk about the assassination, not to Wolf, but he might still be willing to sate Wolf's curiosity about other things.

"I sure hope so, because I've got some very interesting questions for you." Rider winces at the sound of the chair scraping across the floor. Good, Wolf thinks nastily. He's allowed him far too many concessions already. Wolf leans across to Rider, elbows on his knees, looking him straight in the eye. "Why did you join Scorpia, Cub?"

Rider's eyes widen. Oh. That wasn't what he was expecting.

"See, I've been reading your file. Trying to figure out how the kid I met in France could end up murdering people for a living. I thought, something must have happened to him, something that gave him no other choice." Anger is brimming up in Wolf again, and he isn't bothered about trying to contain it. There's something pained in Rider's face, something verging on fear, but Wolf doesn't care. "But no. You sought out Scorpia and joined them of your own free will. They taught you how to kill, and you were so good at it that you decided to make a fucking career out of it."

"You don't understand," Rider tries to say. His voice is even rougher than yesterday, low and hoarse.

"Enlighten me then, Cub."

Rider looks away. "I can't. I'm sorry."

Wolf actually laughs. "You're sorry? How about you tell that to the wife of the man you murdered? How about you tell that to his kids?"

"She'll be glad that he's gone."

That throws Wolf off guard.

"What?"

"He hit her. He'd started hitting his eldest daughter too. His wife was trying to leave him, but she didn't have the money. Now she has his entire bank account."

Wolf leans back, trying to process this. He hadn't considered that Cub knew anything about his mark. It could be a lie, of course, but something in his gut tells him it's not.

"So that's why you killed him? Because he was a wife-beater?"

"No, I killed him because I was paid to. But I don't regret it. And I doubt his wife hates me very much."

Wolf is beginning to catch on. "So is this what you do with all your hits? Cherry pick the ones you think deserve it most, like some kind of – of vigilante?"

Rider doesn't reply.

"You know what I think, Cub? I think you're full of shit. You might you have your own little moral code, but Scorpia kills anyone they can get their hands on, and you know it."

"I don't work for Scorpia."

"Come on, Cub. No more games. I know you joined them. They're you're employers, right? They give you your assignments. Or are you seriously saying they let you hand in your resignation form?"

Wolf can feel that he's getting closer to the truth, but Rider is cutting him off before he can get there. He doesn't respond to Wolf's questions about Venice.

Eventually he speaks again, cutting across Wolf's voice.

"When are MI6 coming?"

Wolf hesitates at first, but what's the point in lying anymore? "Tonight, if I don't give them answers. You still have time, Cub."

Rider chews his lip. He looks like he's actually considering it.

But then he lets out a long breath, and a look of resignation draws over his face.

"I can't."

"Why not?" Wolf just doesn't understand it. Cub knows what MI6 will do to him, whether he talks or not. He said it himself: they're going to make him "disappear". What does he have left to lose? What is he still protecting?

"Why do you care?" Rider shoots at him.

And honestly, what can Wolf say to that? He doesn't know. He shouldn't care.

The assignment is done. He's failed. There's nothing left to say. Wolf wants to offer Rider parting advice, but there's no point. The last look he gets at Cub, he's staring at the ceiling again. It strikes Wolf how weary he looks, far, far older than seventeen, yet at the same time, far too young to be caught up in this mess. Wolf's chest hurts. His job isn't just to take out the bad guys; the whole reason he joined the army was to help people. He'd wanted so badly for Cub to fall into the second category, but it looks like he's decided to be in the first.

The door shuts behind him with a final, heavy clang, but the image of Cub burns behind his eyes. Wolf knows it's not one that he's going to easily forget.

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The Sergeant shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, sir," says Wolf. He's already decided that this will be the first and last time he'll say it. He did his best, and he won't apologise for knowing when to give up on a lost cause. He stands with his back straight, refusing to look diminished in any way.

"Nothing? You couldn't get him to tell you anything?"

"He's well trained, sir. I don't think using force would have accomplished anything."

The Sergeant sighs, and glances at his watch. "Never mind. Six will be here soon anyway."

"Do you want me to be here, sir?"

"Is there any point? No, I'll see them myself."

"Right… Permission to be dismissed, then?"

"Not so fast," the Sergeant stops him. "The recruits are out on a training exercise tonight. Down at the lake. Since I'll be entertaining the spies, I'm assigning you to supervise them."

"Yes, sir."

There's a strange knot in Wolf's throat. He assumed that he would be here when MI6 came for Cub. Maybe this is for the best. He doesn't really want to see them taking the kid away. By the time he returns to camp, Cub will be gone and this whole thing will be over, like a bad dream.

Some of the tension of the last few days eases out of Wolf's chest. As he heads to the mess hall, he's already mulling over the best way to put the recruits through their paces. For the first time in days, Rider is far from his mind.

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The night is cold, bitingly cold, but Wolf is grinning. He stands at the side of the lake, rubbing his hands together and shouting commands at the recruits racing each other across the lake.

"Come on, lads! My dead grandma could move faster than that!"

He laughs at the miserable scowls that are sent his way, not feeling the slightest bit sorry for them. He did his time in training; now he's passing on the baton.

"I saw you cut that corner, Lynx! Get out and run a lap."

Wolf hears a groan and a mumble that might be "fuck you" before said recruit is splashing out of the water and sprinting away. His gaze wanders out to the sky behind them, beaming with stars. The cold is worth it for a view like that.

His mind starts wandering too, as he stands here. Where will he be sent next? The past three years have been a whirlwind of mission upon mission. His chest twinges at the thought of counting Cub among those, of classifying him as a mission. But what else would he be? Wolf takes a deep breath and exhales slowly. His part is over now. He's never been the type to cling to what ifs and what could have beens.

When he hears the footsteps behind him, he assumes that it's Lynx, finishing his lap.

The familiar voice surprises him.

"Bloody hell, it's cold out here."

Wolf turns, and starts in surprise.

"Snake?"

It is Snake. He's smirking at Wolf, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Wolf doesn't hesitate in pulling him into an embrace.

"The Sergeant said you were down here," he says when they let go. "Giving the new recruits hell, are you?"

"Nothing less," Wolf promises, and gets a proper look at his old teammate. Snake looks different, somehow. Older, maybe? The light out here is piss poor, but Wolf makes out a scar winding across his forehead and into his hairline. Still, he looks pleased to see Wolf. "What the hell are you doing here? Don't tell me they sent you back for more training."

"Oh yeah, absolutely. I'll jump in the lake and do some laps, shall I?" He shoves Wolf's shoulder. "Fuck off. Nah, I'm here protecting some Special Ops arseholes. Apparently they're keeping someone dangerous on the camp, some kind of—"

"Assassin," Wolf finishes.

"Yeah, that's right." Snake gives Wolf a look. "What do you know about it?"

Wolf hesitates.

And then before he can stop himself, the words are spilling out. Perhaps it's because it's Snake, someone he spent so much time with at such close quarters, one of the names he would probably say first if asked who he trusts with his life.

"It's Cub, Snake. The assassin they're here for. It's Cub."

Snake's face falls. "What?"

"We brought him in a few days ago. A squad was called in after he shot someone in the city centre. They brought him here and they've had me questioning him since then and… fuck, Snake. He wouldn't talk. Wouldn't tell me a damn thing. So Six have come to cart him away."

And I don't know what to do, Wolf thinks, but manages to bite his tongue before he blurts that out as well.

Shocked silence falls over them. Wolf feels odd, strangely light-headed from revealing so much. He barely registers when Snake grabs him and pulls him aside, far out of earshot of the lake.

"Wolf," says Snake, his voice low and urgent. "Are you saying Cub is an assassin? Our Cub?"

Is he their Cub?

Shit – he is, isn't he?

"Yeah," Wolf replies. "He murdered a man in cold blood, Snake, only days ago. He's been doing it for years."

But suddenly, the words are ringing false even to Wolf's ears. How many kills did they say he's done, whispers a voice in his ear. Eight countries, and twice as many kills? In under two years?

"But… he can't be. Wolf, he literally can't be." Fear is bubbling up in Wolf's gut now. "I was on a mission with him, only six months ago. He was working for MI6."

Wolf's heart lurches. "What?" is all he can say, and now it's Snake who's talking in earnest.

"It was a hostage situation in Moscow. Cub was the Special Ops liaison they sent to clean up the mess their first one made. I couldn't believe it when he first turned up, but he – well, he saved us. He drew up a plan to get into the building that none of us had thought of."

Wolf's head is reeling.

"I didn't think he looked good back then," says Snake, not quite meeting Wolf's eyes. There's shame in his tone. "I knew something was wrong with him. He risked his neck when he didn't need to. Used himself as bait. I saw him in the hospital afterwards, and his eyes were just dead, Wolf."

"Why didn't you—"

"Because we needed him, didn't we? God, I wish I'd done something…"

Wolf's mind is racing, running over the events of the last few days.

"He killed someone," says Wolf. "That can't have been faked. I saw them zip up the body bag, Snake. I shot him down myself to bring him in."

Snake shakes his head. "Maybe he's gone off the rails then. But I'm telling you, Wolf, the kid was messed up. Whatever's going on with him, he's not in his right mind."

And if MI6 had lied about Rider's history, what else could they have lied about?

"We need to go," said Wolf. "We need to get to the Sergeant before they take Cub. They won't leave without you, will they?"

"Leave? What do you mean?"

"To take Cub back to their headquarters."

"Wolf, they're not here to take him anywhere."

The blood in Wolf's veins turns to ice.

"Special Ops had him brought here for a reason. They're here to torture him."

Wolf doesn't know how he manages to keep it together.

"Stay here, watch the recruits," he thinks he says to Snake; he's honestly not sure. He can't think until he's sprinting back towards the camp, his feet pounding the dirt as fast as he can, heart slamming against his ribcage hard enough to crack his bones.