"No," I said as Fox held up a shirt, asking me if I thought Eagle would like it.

"You barely looked at it," he grumbled, hanging it back on the rack.

"I saw enough to know he'd hate it."

"How the hell do you know that? You can't know he'd hate it."

"Anyone would hate it, Fox. It's orange and purple."

Fox side-eyed me, but remained quiet, perusing the clearance racks. No wonder the thing was on sale. I wouldn't pay for it with my bloody loose change. If Sabina had taught me anything, it was how to read a color wheel in the fashion industry. It definitely wasn't by choice, either.

"Why're you getting clothes for Eagle, anyways?" I asked, shifting from foot to foot as I looked around, keeping tabs on the other customers who got too close. I was, once again, on cart duty, following Fox through the supermarket as he shopped for presents. I was keeping an eye out for L-Unit and Jessie, but I already had some ideas for them.

"Because I suck at gift-giving," Fox responded, eyeing a tan trench coat. "You're welcome to come up with literally any other suggestion."

"He runs a lot. Does he need new trainers?" I asked, tensing as a man brushed by me, but he was just passing by. "Or a nice bottle of scotch, or something? I dunno."

Fox glanced at me, scowling. "Dammit. Two seconds, you've already got perfect ideas. I hate you."

"You're welcome."

"Shut it, bugger."

Fox and I had finally gotten around to Christmas shopping in one of the malls by their flat, nearly busting at the seams with holiday shoppers. It was less than ideal—there was barely room to move without getting into another person's space—but I was too afraid to do online shopping or delivery, just in case MI6 discovered my accounts or anything.

Which left me here, uncomfortable and on edge, steadfastly trying to warn Fox away from gifts I wouldn't give a blind man.

Predictably, we made our way to the trainers section, and I mentally reviewed my shopping list. I was more or less done with Tom, and I'd gotten Jessie an MP3 player and some headphones. It was a little expensive, but I figured it was worth the splurge to make her happy. For Bear, I got some things for the youth center—some plastic musical instruments, some cheap sports equipment, and the like. Besides, he was already a borderline hoarder—he didn't need more stuff.

Tiger had been a little harder, but I'd finally settled on a new coffee maker I found on sale, and a book he'd been wanting. Tiger often settled for instant coffee out of necessity and function, but he liked special blends and French press styles, which he couldn't do with his current pot. I figured he'd like it. I hoped, anyways.

Lion was really difficult. He never asked for things, and he didn't talk about himself much. I knew enough about him to have ideas, but I also knew I wanted to get him something meaningful. He'd just—he'd done so much for me. I felt like it would be a letdown to not give him something meaningful.

Still, that was easier said than done. He played piano well, I knew, even though I'd never heard him play. He liked some retro stuff—I'd seen some records in his room, but no record player, so maybe I'd see if I could find one of those for cheap. Maybe a keyboard, or something. Or would he even have time for that?

"If you concentrate any harder you're going to hurt yourself," Fox quipped as he scanned the wall. "What're you thinking about so hard?"

"I don't know what to get for Lion," I admitted as Fox put a box of trainers in the cart, balanced precariously on top of the coffee maker. "I have a couple ideas, but I don't know if he'll like any of them."

"Hm," Fox said. I was just relieved he didn't make some asinine comment. "What are your ideas? I'm sure he'll like whatever you get him."

"That's not the point," I admitted, reeling myself in when I realized I was dangerously close to whining. "I want it to be something good. He's done a lot for me."

Fox eyed me, finally paying attention, and scrubbed a hand through his hair. "Um…well, I dunno, mate. I barely know him. What are your ideas?"

I shrugged, absently rubbing my thigh where the shot wound was. It was almost healed, but the cold still made it ache when I moved around a lot, like today. "A keyboard, maybe. He says he likes piano, but I've never heard him play. He likes animals, and I might get him a record player. He has some records, but no player."

"All good ideas," Fox validated, dragging the cart with two fingers. I followed, my shoulders tensing as I moved by someone, but I froze when we got to the end of the aisle, where I collided with a woman I hadn't seen coming around the end.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she stammered, hands on my shoulders to steady me. I flinched back, frozen where I stood, trying to remember to breathe. She didn't notice. "You alright, love? Sorry, I'm so scattered, I—um, are you alright?"

Red hair.

She had red, red hair.

I didn't even register her face, the brown eyes different from Jack's, the birthmark under her eye, just the red hair. Curly and a little wild and loose, just like—

"Sorry, he spaces out sometimes," I heard Fox's voice, but it was muddling through a murky haze of fire fire fire— "It's fine. Thanks. No, don't worry about it, he's fine."

I felt myself being guided by Fox's steady hands quickly to the back of the store we were in, passing through an "Employees Only" door, the cart abandoned just outside the door. I stared sightless at Fox's chest, red and orange and firefirefire in my eyes and mind—

"Breathe, Alex. Breathe. Right now." Fox's voice was insistent but calm, even as his fingers dug into my shoulders. "Breathe with me, okay? Just—shit, kid, whoa—"

My knees sagged and he caught me under the arms, crouching until I could sit against the wall, my hand fisted in the front of his jacket in desperation. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't see, I couldn't hear. In my nightmares I was always somewhere dark and cold, plagued by nightmares and memories of horrors, but now I was somewhere bright and hot. Nothing but fire and heat and terror and helplessness—

I choked on a gasp as pain flared in my chest, coughing as I breathed for what felt like the first time in hours, and I realized Fox had dragged his knuckles against my sternum in an effort to get me to wake up and breathe. Once I started, though, I couldn't stop, wheezing in shaky, full breaths at a startling pace. My hand tightened in Fox's jacket, a horrible spark of vulnerability I wanted to snuff out, but I couldn't breathe.

"You're alright," Fox said quietly as I tried not to hyperventilate, my thoughts filled with fire and Jack and heat and light and fire and fire—

Fox, obviously realizing words weren't going to work, knelt close to my side and more or less yanked me against him, fingers tangling in the hair on the back of my head as he wrapped his other arm around my shoulders. "Listen to me breathe," Fox instructed, voice low. I heard another voice, high and nasally, and Fox said, "I know we're not supposed to be back here, I'm sorry, I just needed a place to calm him down."

The other voice said something else, but it seemed like Fox had more or less cut them out of the conversation. My fingers cramped from how tightly I held his coat, but I couldn't calm down, because she had the same hair, the same body type, and for a blurred, illusionary second I thought it was her, I thought it was Jack—

"Calm down, Alex, or I have to call someone," Fox instructed, moving a hand from my hair to the back of my neck, squeezing insistently. His voice was still calm, but there was an undertow of nervousness, and his hands were tense. "I know you don't want me to call anyone, but if you don't start breathing like a normal person, I have to, understand?"

I couldn't, though. Breathing hurt. Breathing hurt.

"Snake? Yeah, I don't—no, just listen, Alex is having a panic attack and I don't know how to calm him down—yes, I tried that, it's like he can't hear me at all—"

Julius, please, I heard myself beg, a memory imprinted beyond removal on my fragile psyche, preserved in utter clarity even though I wished I could forget. Please, I'll do anything you want, please—

Your friend's life is in the hands of someone who hates you very much, I heard Razim echo, callous and cold. What will you do?

Nothing, because I was tied up cold and helpless as I watched the gleam in Julius Grief's eye, the careful, reverent way he handled the detonator, the sickening grin on his face as he watched me beg and plead for Jack's life. He knew, the whole time, he knew that he was going to press that button, that he was going to take her, but he still let me beg. He let me beg and hope that something human would make him stop, that something would save her, but nothing did. I didn't.

I knew, too. I knew somewhere cold and dark within myself that nothing I said or did would make a difference. No matter how I begged, no matter what I promised, Julius was going to kill Jack, and I would have to watch. I knew, but the child in me, the child who just didn't want to be left alone, begged. Begged and begged and pleaded without reservation to my clone, but still, I watched myself kill her.

I heard myself scream within the memory, desperate and hopeless and desperate, and I heard a crack, and my face hurt.

That wasn't part of the memory.

I blinked, and Julius Grief was replaced with the dangerously blank mask of Ben Daniels.

I blinked again, raising a hand to my cheek. It hurt.

"I'm really sorry, I really didn't want to slap you, but Snake said if nothing else was working it might shock you back," Fox rambled, hand still tight around the back of my neck. There were two store employees off to the side, looking shellshocked by the whole thing, but I didn't pay attention to them. I felt slow and dull, like I'd just woken up from a very long, deep sleep. "Alex? Say something so I know you're okay."

"Something," I said quietly, still reeling from the memory. I hadn't had a flashback that bad in a really long time.

I was almost glad he'd hit me. He'd shocked me out of it before the explosion, for what it was worth.

Fox huffed a laugh, sounding annoyed and relieved all at once, and closed his eyes for a second. "Scared the shit outta me, mate. If you're making jokes, I guess you're alright. Here, Snake wants to talk to you."

Fox put the phone to my ear, but I was slow to grab it, still staring into space as fire crept out of my vision, revealing the dingy back storage space in the store. "Cub? Can ye hear me?"

"…yeah," I said, fumbling for the phone with clumsy fingers. My other hand was still wound tight in Fox's jacket. "Snake?"

"Hey, mate. Fox said ye had a panic attack."

"…I think it was a flashback," I admitted, too raw and open to censor my words. I was trembling like a leaf in a thunderstorm, and I was sure Fox noticed. "I—I'm sorry—"

"Oi," Snake interrupted, his voice even. "Ye don't have anything to apologize for. Everything's alright. Ye're breathing a little fast, lad, think we can slow it down?"

I listened to his quiet instructions and tried to breathe, but I was startled when Fox moved, I supposed to talk to the employees who were still hovering nearby. Still, I felt his jacket pull against my hand and automatically tightened my grip, glancing at him.

He looked back at me, a question in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere. Listen to Snake. Okay?" Relief flooded my limbs with lead, and I nodded, but I didn't relax until he sat back down. "Listen, I know you're not really one for physical stuff, but can I—um—"

Instead of continuing, he scooted close to me and wrapped his arm around my front, slowly so I could see what he was doing, and covered my ear with his hand, pulling my head to his shoulder in such a way that the phone was squashed between my ear and his jacket. His other hand settled on my back. "Just relax. You're safe."

Despite myself, despite the lingering panic, I did, sagging against him in a display of vulnerability I never, ever wanted to have again. I'd resigned myself to a life behind walls, but ever since L-unit, they were getting weaker and thinner and so much easier to tear down, and I didn't know how to fix it. I didn't know how to build them back up. I didn't know if I could.

"How are ye feeling?" Snake asked, voice staticky. Fox's idea actually turned out to be pretty smart—with his hand over my free ear, I couldn't hear anything but Snake, and it was peaceful. It was a safe bubble. I shouldn't need it, I didn't want to need it, but it helped. I felt young and helpless, but it helped.

"Better," I said quietly. "I—I think."

"Good. Tell me about Tom, yeah? What does he like to do?"

The request was sudden, but I obeyed, feeling my eyes droop from the exhaustion and the fear of the flashback, and I slurred something about how good he was at football. How ridiculous he was about movies, how he'd all but memorized his favorites. I talked for a long time, until I wasn't shaking any more, save some spastic twitches of dwindling adrenaline. The employees had long since evacuated, obviously realizing there was nothing they could do, and Fox was still kneeling on the cold concrete. I was sure he was uncomfortable.

"That's great, Alex," Snake said evenly. "Listen, let's get ye back here, yeah? Ye sound tired."

I was too exhausted to argue. "Okay."

"Okay. Great. I'm gonna talk to Fox for a minute."

Wordlessly, I handed Fox the phone, prying my fingers from his jacket, where they'd been tangled for God knows how long. They hurt. I flexed my hand as Fox sat up to talk to Snake, but he kept a hand on my back.

"Mm-hm. Yeah. Yeah, I'm gonna get him to the car then pay for the stuff, then we'll be back. I don't know if he's going to want to eat—maybe, see if Wolf will make some. Yeah. Thanks, mate."

Fox ended the call and stuffed the phone in his pocket, then sat beside me. I glanced at him questioningly.

"We'll move when you're ready," Fox explained, getting comfortable against the wall. "Do you want to talk about it? You don't have to."

I didn't. Not at all. "She looked like someone." That was an easy enough explanation, I supposed.

"Someone who hurt you?" Fox asked, his shoulders tensing even as his face remained smooth.

I shook my head, fingers spasming in my lap as I thought of Julius Grief and Razim and Jack. Jack. She'd never had a label, but she was family anyway. She wasn't a mother, she was more than a friend, she wasn't a sister, but that was as close as I could get. She just…was, until she wasn't.

"Someone who died," I corrected.

Fox finally let sympathy creep into his indifferent mask, squeezing my shoulder. "I'm sorry."

I nodded in acknowledgement, and remained quiet. Fox didn't say anything else.

I wasn't ready to move for a long time, but Fox didn't say a word. For all the hellish noise, the cacophony and clamor of chaotic trauma in my mind, I'd always found solace in solitude, even if it hurt.

Still, the quiet with Fox wasn't bad, either.

…

Fox let me sleep in his room when we got back to the flat.

I didn't know if he intuitively knew I needed to be behind a shut door, or really and truly alone, but whatever it was, I couldn't stand to be in the living room. It was too exposed, with too much open space and too many points of entry and exit. There was always the possibility of someone coming in or out, and I needed to feel alone to feel safe, right now.

Flashbacks were always hellishly exhausting, but I couldn't sleep. Instead, I listened to the hushed voices in the living room, catching words here or there. It wasn't all about me, but some of it was, and I felt bad for making trouble for them. Even after they'd let me stay here. I'd been looking forward to hanging out with Fox today, too, after we'd resolved some of our immediate issues.

I laid there for about an hour, feeling boneless and numb, before I finally made myself get up. I was thirsty, but the absolute last thing I wanted to do was brave the living room to get to the kitchen, so I slunk quietly to the bathroom and drank handfuls of water from the sink. I splashed some lukewarm water on my face, dragging my hands down until I had to look at my reflection.

I looked awful.

I was pale and thin, thinner than I'd realized, with dark smudges under my eyes like watercolor bruises. I'd put on Lion's hoodie as soon as we were back, and it hung off me even more than it had when I'd gotten it. I finally made myself drag my gaze up to the eyes of the person in the mirror.

They were the same brown they'd always been, but I hated looking at them. Looking into my own eyes was like being forced to see what I'd become, really, really see, and I hated that person. I hated this person.

My vision whited out for a long minute, and I didn't realize what was going on until I heard someone pounding on the bathroom door and I came to, kneeling on the floor, a bloody fist in my lap. Shards of reflective glass littered the floor around my knees, and I blinked down at my bloody knuckles, little slivers of glass embedded in the cuts. Blood trickled steadily down my fingers and onto my sweatpants.

"If you don't open the bloody door in the next ten seconds, I'm gonna kick it down," Wolf's voice drifted through the closed door, angry and rough. Oh. I guessed they'd heard the glass break. I wondered how long they'd been pounding on the door.

I unlocked it without getting up, reaching for the lock with my good hand. I'd already broken their mirror, I didn't want to be responsible for their broken door, as well. I grimaced as the door slammed into my thigh as Wolf shoved it open, blinking down at me. I didn't look up.

"I'm really sorry," I said instead, staring at the blood on my hand. "I'll pay for the mirror."

In my periphery, I saw Wolf look at me, then the mirror, and then me again. Fox brushed past Wolf and knelt beside me, asking what happened, but I didn't look at him, either. Wolf didn't say anything, just stared at me, and I waited for the yelling.

"I'm sorry," I repeated.

Wolf opened his mouth, but he was interrupted by Snake. "If ye yell at him, I swear to my good Lord, I'm kicking ye out and ye'll stay in a hotel tonight. Go away."

Wolf blinked, then scowled, allowing himself to be moved from the doorway as Snake came to crouch beside Fox. "I wasn't going to yell."

"Ye can go to hell for lying," Snake deadpanned, reaching out to take my wrist. I flinched away on instinct, and he stilled, eyes going instantly to my face. "I need to look at yer hand. I'm not going to hurt ye."

Slowly, I nodded, and Fox moved around me to dig for a first-aid kit in the cabinet under the sink. "Wolf, go get a broom or something," Fox said.

Wolf grumbled, but obeyed. I winced as Snake examined the bloodied knuckles and weeping wounds, hissing in sympathy. "Yikes, mate. Ye did a number on yerself."

"I'm sorry."

Snake sent me a look halfway between worried and exasperated, and took my upper arm, guiding me to stand. "Watch yer step. Let's take care of this somewhere there isn't broken glass everywhere, okay?"

"No, I'll…I'll clean it up," I said quickly, trying to tug my arm out of his grip, reaching for the broom as Wolf returned. "I made the mess."

"Let me handle this, dumbarse," Wolf scowled, shoving me lightly in the direction of the living room. "God, you're a bloody walking disaster. Puta mierda."

Well, he wasn't wrong there. I felt a wry smile lift my lips at the comment.

I knew I was a disaster.

Snake took care of my hand quietly, and didn't ask about the mirror, or the flashback from earlier, or anything. The silence was loud and stifling, but it was better than being asked questions. Fox shifted on the edge of my awareness, looking like his curiosity was quite literally killing him, but he didn't ask anything, either. I heard Wolf cursing to himself as he picked up the broken mirror in the bathroom.

"I really will pay for it," I said quietly, staring at the muted tellie as Snake wrapped gauze around my knuckles.

Snake glanced up and paused in his ministrations, searching my face. "I'm not worried about the mirror, I'm worried about ye."

"Alex, it feels like since you got here, you've been going downhill," Fox interjected, ignoring the dark look of warning Snake sent his way. "I know you miss your unit, but I don't know how to fix that. Just…tell us what we can do to make this stay easier, alright? I know we're not perfect, but…" Fox shrugged helplessly, emotion absent from his face but obvious in his words. "I don't know how to help you," he admitted, "and it's killing me, kid."

"Just…let me help you. I know I might not have earned it like L-Unit, and I'm glad you have them, but just…let me support you. Please." Fox's words from the cemetery rang in my head, and I felt guilt eat at my chest. I shrank a little under the knowledge that I was probably hurting him, too.

"It's not your fault," I said. "It's really not. I just…" How could I explain? I'd tried to commit suicide less than a month ago, and then Lion and Tiger and Bear had to leave right after that, and I was placed somewhere unfamiliar and not safe. Even if it was safe now, I'd had to work hard to let myself recognize that, and it was exhausting. And now Christmas was coming up, and it was my first one without Jack, and everything reminded me of her. And when I thought of her, my thoughts inevitably turned to fire and ash and blood and red hair.

I also hadn't forgotten that SCORPIA knew where I was staying, where L-Unit was staying, and they could attack at any time. They had once before, how long would it be until they did it again? Then there was the looming threat of MI6, and the sobering knowledge that I couldn't hide forever—eventually, they would find me, and I had no idea what I would do then. And there were the secrets, their unbearable weight, the knowledge that L-Unit trusted me with their stories and faults, and I didn't even have the decency to return that.

Then there was K-Unit. I'd grown to trust them, to appreciate them, to want to keep them safe, but it was still difficult. I didn't trust them like L-Unit, so completely and vulnerably, but I trusted them more than I wanted to, and the knowledge of more relationships and more dangers was staggering.

Then there was the not eating, the aversion to therapy that was going to bite me in the arse at some point, the flashbacks, the nightmares…I pulled myself out before I could continue to spiral, blinking slowly. I felt like lead.

"I'm just…really tired," I admitted, wincing as Snake tied off the gauze with careful precision. I flexed my hand, the burn of the cuts and the sting of the antiseptic strangely comforting against the numbing depression. "And I feel bad. I'm ruining your Christmas."

"Why do ye think that?" Snake asked, still calm. I didn't know how he did it. Fox looked like his skin was crawling underneath his cool exterior. "I don't think ye're ruining our Christmas. I've enjoyed having ye here."

"All I've done is cause trouble and break things," I dissented. "Your birthday's coming up, and Eagle's trying to get ready to propose, and Wolf's prepping for his own Christmas, and…I just feel bad."

"Wolf!" Snake yelled back at the bathroom. I jumped at the unexpected shout. "Get your arse in here!"

"I'm cleaning the bloody bathroom!" Wolf complained, appearing in the living room with a dustpan in hand, shards haphazardly reflecting the room. "What?"

"Is Alex ruining our Christmas?" Snake asked point blank, so abruptly and confidently that my jaw dropped. Well, that was probably the most tactless question I'd ever heard Snake ask. Fox looked equally surprised by Snake's brusqueness.

Wolf blinked. "What the hell? No. Christmas hasn't even bloody happened, how the hell could he ruin it?"

"So he's not ruining our leave time?"

"What—no. Is that all you bloody needed me for?"

"Yes, thank ye," Snake said, waving a hand in Wolf's direction and turning back to me. "Dismissed."

If I hadn't felt quite so awful, I might've laughed at Wolf's affronted expression. I watched him scowl and run a hand through his hair, muttering, "Hijo da puta, por qué spongo esta mierda…" Wolf's Spanish rambling trailed off as he abandoned us for the bathroom.

"See? Wolf's the most brutally honest person we both know," Snake affirmed with an easy smile. "Ye're not ruining anything by needing a little extra help."

Fox nodded in agreement, dropping an arm around my shoulder as he stood beside me. He smiled down at me. "Nobody's ruining anything. We're here to help. Everybody needs some help sometimes."

A memory tugged at my awareness, fuzzed over by time and injury, but I remembered. It was in the hospital, after I'd contracted sepsis, which felt like so long ago. You need some help right now, just like we all do in time, Lion's voice echoed, steady and strong.

I couldn't help the smile despite the pang of worry in my chest. "Lion said that too."

"Hm. Well, I guess even he has some bright ideas sometimes," Fox conceded, looking away as pink dusted his face.

Snake smirked and looked at me with a conspiratorial smile. "Lion doesn't like Fox either, does he?" I shook my head, remembering his translucent offense when I compared the two. "Do they realize they're a bit more similar than they'd like to think?"

I laughed the slightest bit and didn't miss the relieved light in Snake's eyes, the way Fox's hand tightened on my shoulder.

The laughter hurt. It hurt like it did when I'd laughed with Tom a few days ago. Had it only been a few days? Regardless, it was the similar feeling of deep, cutting pain, exacerbated by the laugh, because I didn't feel like laughing at all. Not today, when I'd seen who I thought was Jack after so long.

Still, even the oppressive chasm of total darkness seemed brighter with a speck of light.

…

I had a nightmare that night.

It wasn't surprising. I'd almost expected it—where bad days were, worse nights were sure to follow. Still, waking up on the floor beside Fox's bed at arse-thirty in the morning wasn't a pleasant experience.

I lay on the floor panting for a few seconds, throwing an arm over my eyes as I caught my breath. I was soaked in sweat, clammy and shaky, and the scratchy carpet wasn't helping. I finally made myself get up and stumble to the bathroom, now free of glass, shattered mirror still hanging in a mockery of my brokenness.

I couldn't handle my reflection right now, even disjointed as it was, so I left the light off and sat on the cool tile. I shut the door gently, afraid to wake Fox, who was in the living room, and scooted to lean against the side of the tub. I sighed contentedly as the coolness eased some of the fire-fueled adrenaline in my blood, pillowing my head on my arms, which rested on the lip of the bathtub.

"This sucks," I whispered to no one, closing my eyes.

It did. It sucked a lot, and I couldn't think of anything to do to make it better. Well, I could, but I couldn't magically make Lion and Tiger and Bear come back any faster, so I'd just have to hope they came back soon. It would suck if they had to spend Christmas on a mission, but I couldn't imagine they'd be stuck there that long.

I supposed I'd fallen asleep with my phone in my pocket, so I took it out and opened my contacts, scrolling through the admittedly meager supply. Lion, Tiger, Bear. Snake, Wolf, Eagle, Fox. Bella, Tom. Smithers, under Gadget. Probably not the best pseudonym, but it was fine for now.

It was four in the morning, barely, so I texted Tom. He probably wouldn't be up, but it was around six there, so there was always the chance. Morning.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't respond. Resigned to the solitude, I went online and read a few articles about the upcoming election and some celebrity news just to kill time. I felt myself cool gradually, until I was more or less shivering on the tile, but the cold kept me awake. I killed an hour and a half before Tom texted me back.

what r u doing its like midnight over there

I smiled a little, replying, it's 5:30 now

basically midnight

whyd u text so late everything good

I thought for a moment, my thumbs hovering over the keypad. It's fine. Just miss you.

Tom replied with an emoji wearing a suspicious, scrutinizing look, but said, hm. i dont believe u.

but shucks im blushing miss u 2

I felt my eyelids droop, by stubbornly kept them open, texting Tom back. What're you going to do today?

I closed my eyes as I waited for him to reply, and I was almost asleep by the time my phone buzzed again with an excessive paragraph containing a rather detailed itinerary for his day. I felt myself smiling the more I read, Tom's enthusiasm for even the smallest things contagious and warm.

I wouldn't leave. I promised Tom, and I promised Lion. I wouldn't leave.

They were enough to keep me here, even if it sucked.

A: Sounds busy.

T: u know me gotta get that bread

A: What?

T: oh poor uncultured boy dont worry ill catch u up on all the slang you missed

A: …I think I'm okay

T: this is not a democracy moron ur opinion is irrelevant

A: What kind of dictator can't use punctuation?

T: a Gen Z dictator thats who

I smiled and sent some vague reply before closing my eyes again, listening as birds started chirping outside the living room window. I could feel myself finally getting tired again, so I let myself drift off, even shivering. I thought of Tom, and L-Unit's imminent return, and a place that might be home—that was enough to keep me warm.

A very flustered Eagle woke me a couple hours later when he came in to use the bathroom, nearly losing his mind when he saw me curled up against the tub, shivering. He ushered me quickly and forcefully into the living room and kicked Fox off the bed so I could warm up, but Fox wasn't mad. In fact, he was just as worried as Eagle.

I insisted I was fine, that I'd just gotten hot and gone to cool off and fallen asleep, but Fox didn't stop pestering me until I was buried in a couple blankets and Eagle was pressing a mug of hot chocolate into my hands like I was a six-year-old.

"Shut up and let us take care of you, moron," Fox scolded when I said as much, flicking the side of my head as he yawned. "You woke me up, deal with the consequences."

He plopped down beside me and turned on the tellie, stealing a corner of one of my blankets and flipping channels. I looked at him for a second and listened to Eagle move around in the kitchen, and I could faintly hear Wolf's snores. I knew Snake was nearby too.

"Thanks for yesterday," I said to Fox, eyes trained on the tellie. "For smacking me awake."

Fox winced, and I hid a smile in my mug. "I really did feel bad, but nothing else was working. I promise I didn't enjoy it."

I laughed, quiet and low, and said, "I'm serious. You woke me up before the bad part. I'm glad you did."

Fox cut his eyes to me, questioning, but he didn't ask. He'd gotten better at not asking. It was easier. "I'm glad I could help, then."

He sat up a little straighter, ruffling my hair with enough force to send me sideways for a moment, then focused staunchly back on the tellie.

Though I'd lived in the house in Chelsea for a long time, Ian and I had moved a lot when I was growing up, bouncing between countries. I'd learned not to get attached to places easily, so the Chelsea house had never really felt like home. I associated home with people instead of places.

That was dangerous, because people left and died. My home had been obliterated before my eyes when Jack died, and I was sure that I would wander homeless forever, literally and figuratively. The Sabina took me in, and it wasn't home, but it was something better than the emptiness.

Then the emptiness was back, and it swallowed me.

I could still feel it. It was still present and vicious, tugging at my ankles and tripping me up every step of the way. It was an endless uphill battle out of compressed darkness that shoved me down again and again and again, and laughed each time I fell. The emptiness was so bad that I held onto hatred and fear and paranoia as tightly as I could to avoid that bottomless pit, but I still fell.

I hadn't known that emptiness until Jack, but thinking on it, it felt like home wasn't the absence of the emptiness, but having someone to pick me up when I fell.

I'd picked myself up too many times, and I couldn't anymore. I was well and truly out of that strength.

I closed my eyes and let the steam from the hot chocolate warm my face and hands, letting myself sink into the blankets and bump my shoulder against Fox's. I thought of Tom's easy concern and K-Unit's unique care.

I thought of Bear's empathetic nature, Tiger's honest concern, and Lion's unconditional acceptance.

Home. What a nice word. It didn't feel so strange anymore.

A/N: See? SEE? I broke it but I fixed it a little. Hehehehe. I feel evil in the best way.

This was kinda painful to write, but I also had a lot of fun with the abstract thoughts, because Alex's darkness is a complex matrix. He has layers and layers of trauma, but instead of an onion, it's like they've all been smashed into each other, so he's drowning in them. Luckily he has some people who aren't about to let that happen!

Hope you liked it as much as I did :)

REVIEWS: YOU GUYS MAKE MY DAY SO MUCH BETTER AND I LOVE YOU: Cortanacordeliacarstairs, CoffeeAndOakLeaves, ElNonie, Cakemania225, seth 8627, Asilrettor, M-chanchen, snapshotz, Guest, KC, ryddance, Aism de Plume, 627-Organized Chaos, reginamare, Ff1892, Lily, Jess, Riderkitty, taliaTMNTdrea, A, Guest, and Guest!

Cortanacordeliacarstairs: AW THANKS! I appreciate it! And hahahha I think I'm a little behind now XD thanks so much!

Guest (I'm crossing all my fingers…): THANKS SO MUCH AWWWW

KC: AHH thanks!

Aism de Plume: Yay thanks! Enjoy the fuzzy ;)

Reginamare: omg you're the sweetest thank you so much! Yeee glad you liked it :D

Lily: Thank you! Hehe…sorry about this chap, but sometimes we gotta go darker before we get better, whoops…thanks! So glad you're enjoying!

Jess: HA I love that XD

A: AHHH thanks so much!

Guest (This chapter is so amazing!...): Thank you! Snake is such a kind soul. Thanks!

Guest (My favorite chapter is…): Omg I love that one! It has such a special place in my heart because it's the first time Alex is trying to be vulnerable while in complete control of his faculties (i.e. not stressed out or on pain meds, haha). Glad you love it as much as I do!

As always, you're all wonderful and I love you so much! Drop a review if you want, they make me happy :) Good night, and MERRY CHRISTMAS / HAPPY HOLIDAYS! HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS!