The next day was a disaster. For once, though, it wasn't my fault. Well, kind of, but not entirely.

"Matthew, can you pass me that box, love?" Evie requested from where she was perched on the top of the stepladder, precariously holding an armful of tinsel and three ornaments. Eagle had his hands tight on her hips, sweating bullets as she wobbled, looking completely unconcerned by the obvious precariousness of her situation.

"No, no, no," Eagle said decisively, keeping one hand steady on her waist as he reached for the box in my hand. "Evie, baby, I can literally reach it without the ladder, please just let me do it—"

"Mason, I am going to decorate this tree if it's the last thing I do," Evie countered, somehow plucking the box from his hands. "My parents did ours without me because I had to work, so I'm taking over yours. The guys don't mind, do they?" She looked expectantly at Wolf, Fox, and Snake, buried in varying degrees of Christmas around the living room and kitchen.

"I hate that tree," Wolf said, waving a hand. "Knock yourself out."

"Happy to let you do the grunt work," Fox said, but the effect was kind of lost seeing as he was buried in wrapping paper. Snake smacked him for the comment.

"See? Nobody's missing out on anything," Evie said, laughing as Eagle scowled, still holding her tight as she tried to wrap the tinsel around the top of the tree. I went to the other side and stood on my toes to pull it around. "Thanks, sweetie. See, love, this is what being helpful looks like," she threw at Eagle.

I laughed as Eagle flicked me off behind Evie's back.

It was a nice day. An awesome day compared to yesterday, but a nice day by a mentally sound person's standard. I'd dozed off on Fox's shoulder for an hour or so after Eagle discovered me in the bathroom, only to be awoken when Evie busted in and demanded they drag the faux tree from the top of Snake's closet so she could decorate. They'd obliged quickly, and the guys took it as an opportunity to get some wrapping done under her scrutiny.

Snake, under Wolf's careful instruction, made a batch of Mexican hot chocolate. I'd more or less come to the conclusion that anything cooked in this flat, as long as Fox wasn't anywhere near the stove, was immaculate. It was stupidly domestic, watching three more or less huge guys wrap presents while Evie the Elf (Fox's moniker for her) and Eagle and I put up the tree while drinking hot chocolate. Still, I much preferred it to the crowded shopping malls.

"Sweetie, do you mind handing me that blue ornament?" Evie asked me, pointing to a box in one of the larger containers. "It should be—no, the one next to it—yes, that one!"

"You guys have a lot or ornaments," I commented as I handed it to her, glancing at the others.

"Fox is stupidly sentimental for no reason at all," Eagle contributed, ignoring Fox's glare, "and Wolf gets one every year, and now Snake's going to, as well. They piled up, I guess."

"Hm," I acknowledged, rifling through one of the boxes. A lot of them were simple glass-blown spheres with painted exteriors, but there were a couple that were airbrushed with careful detail, and some that were obviously mass produced, with quotes or characters.

I smiled a little, remembering one ornament Ian brought home for Christmas one year. It was a bit of an event, because he didn't like ornaments or Christmas much—he wasn't a very sentimental man. Still, he'd been away on business, and he'd brought back a really cool dreamcatcher ornament with his name, my name, and Jack's name stenciled onto it. Jack loved it. I wished I'd kept it.

I wondered where it had ended up, in the estate sale. Something personal like that…I doubted anyone would take it, and the thought made me a little sad.

I was startled when the doorbell rang, and I looked expectantly at the others, but they were bogged down in their own duties. "Could you grab that? You're the only one not drowning in Christmas," Eagle requested.

I must have hesitated for a second too long, because Snake sent me a careful glance, but I got up anyway, wincing as my hand flared in pain. "Yeah."

I picked my way carefully through the mess to the door, keeping my footsteps light and quiet as I approached. I put my eye to the peephole, careful not to put too much pressure on the door, and saw two women—they looked like they were talking amongst themselves, dressed heavily in winter coats and hats, carrying a couple wrapped bags and boxes.

"Were any of you expecting anyone?" I asked quietly as I poked my head around the wall, receiving several blank glances.

"Our family isn't getting here until the 23rd," Wolf offered. "Eagle, you said your parents were going to Evie's."

"They are," Eagle affirmed, hands hovering around Evie's waist as she carefully descended the ladder. I saw him breathe for the first time in an hour when she was finally back on solid ground. "I dunno who it is."

"I suppose I'll ask," I muttered almost to myself. I figured it was a family coming to visit, and they'd gotten the wrong flat or something.

They knocked again as I got back, so I undid the deadbolt and chain and opened to door, wishing belatedly I'd grabbed my ankle knife first. "Can I help you?" I didn't want to sound rude, but strangers were generally dangerous to me.

"Oh, hello! Goodness, you're young." I blinked. "Dear, did you get the address right…?" The older woman asked, turning to the younger woman. They looked remarkably similar—probably mother and daughter. They looked oddly familiar, too.

"This is what he said," the younger woman said. I might have imagined it, but she looked a little uncomfortable, shuffling from foot to foot, keeping her eyes off both of her companions. "Maybe I misread—"

"Mum?" I heard Fox say behind me, and I turned to find him standing in the doorway, half out of the living room. His eyes were wide and his face was pale. His knuckles were white. "Ruth?"

"Benjamin, love, it's been so long!" The older woman—I supposed his mother—said, brushing past me and into the flat. I got out of the way as quickly as I could, trying to put some space between us. Ruth—I supposed his sister—stayed in the doorway, looking at her brother with what I saw as apologetic eyes. "Goodness, you've grown again. Stop that, you're tall enough."

Ms. Daniels was quick to embrace him, but Fox looked distinctly ill, barely patting his mum's back before pulling away. "Mum, what—what are you doing here? I told you I was staying here for Christmas."

"I know, darling, that's why we came to you," she explained patiently. "Ruth, you're letting all the air out! Come in, come in."

I bit my tongue, but I kind of wanted to explain to her that it wasn't her bloody flat, and she couldn't invite people in as she pleased. Then again, it wasn't my flat either, which was the only reason I didn't say anything.

Ruth shook lingering snow off her boots and stepped inside, setting her coat on a hook by the door. I closed the door behind her and she crossed to Ben while Ms. Daniels went to the living room, exchanging greetings with the others.

"Ruth—" Fox began, his complexion nearly grey.

"I know, Ben, I'm so sorry," she said, hugging her brother for a long minute. "She saw the address on my phone while I was getting ready to visit and insisted she surprise you. I tried to stop her—"

"No, Ruthy, it's—it's not your fault," Ben said quietly, dragging a hand down his face. "I know how she is. I—shit, I just wanted to…"

"I'll see if I can get her to leave early," Ruth promised, squeezing Ben's arm before joining her mother in the living room. I felt bad kind of eavesdropping, but they were blocking the only other way into the main room, so I really couldn't help but hear.

"Are you okay?" I asked quietly as Fox stepped closer to the door, probably trying to take a minute out of sight of the others in the living room.

"No, I'm not," he admitted, glancing towards the main room. He looked furious. "I told my mother I didn't want to spend holidays with her, not after what she did to Joseph. I made it crystal clear that I was going to need some time before I was okay being around her like that again, and she just…"

He dragged a hand down his face, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. "Sorry. I just…things are about to get really bad."

I shrugged a little, feeling awkward and out of my element. "Well…maybe it'll be fine. Maybe it'll just be…you know, uncomfortable, and then over. I'm sorry she went against what you asked for, though."

Fox smiled, rueful and wry. "You don't know my mother, kid."

I didn't say anything, because he was right, but I knew I already didn't like her. Anyone who could do that to their son obviously had some bigger issues to work through.

"Let me know if I can do anything," I offered.

"Kill me," he muttered, taking a deep breath.

I blinked, tilting my head in consideration. "Well—"

"Oh, shut up."

I smiled a little and followed him back into the living room, where the others had stood. Their stances were relaxed enough, but I knew how to read blank faces. Snake's face was lined in subtle worry, Eagle was a little more fidgety than normal, and Wolf—well, Wolf wasn't doing to very good job of hiding his obvious displeasure.

"Can I offer ye some hot chocolate?" Snake said as we walked in, trying to diffuse the tension with an amiable smile. "It's got a bit of a kick to it, but it's good. It's a Mexican recipe."

"Goodness, no. If I'd wanted an international tour, I would've gone to one of those dirty little places down the street," she said, stripping off her gloves and handing them to her daughter.

Ruth scowled while the rest of us stood there with our jaws hanging open.

"I'd love a cup, thank you so much, Lewis," Ruth cut in, sending her mother a scathing glance. "I'm sorry, my mum forgot her tact at home. I suppose it's next to her sense of human decency in a dusty little corner."

Snake blinked while Evie sent Ruth a thumbs up. "Uh…of course. Just one second."

Wolf looked two inches from bodily tossing her out the window.

"Ruth, don't be dramatic, it's unbecoming," Ms. Daniels said, looking completely unbothered. "Goodness, is there anywhere to sit in this place? Benjamin, if I'd known you were living somewhere like this, I would've arranged for a flat in the city."

Fox's jaw locked, and he ground out, "I don't want your money. I'm happy where I am."

"Oh, dear, that's you getting used to poverty." She clucked her tongue, moving to sit on the couch. "First your sister, now you? Settling for one of these old places? Never thought I'd see the day. I've failed as a mother."

I saw Fox's shoulders tense, and I saw Ruth's face smooth in familiar blankness. Snake smartly pulled Wolf into the kitchen before he could aggravate the situation, handing Ruth her mug of hot chocolate. To be honest, though, I was more worried about Evie than Wolf, if the way Eagle was holding firm to her shoulders was anything to go by.

"Well, don't just stand around, sit, sit," she commanded, once again under the illusion that she owned this flat. "Tell me what I've been missing. You boys must be happy to be on leave, yes?"

Awkwardly, slowly, Eagle, Fox, and Ruth sat. Snake was still detaining Wolf in the kitchen, probably for all our safeties. Evie went back to the tree and completely ignored Ms. Daniels, so I went to help her. I preferred having something to do with my hands.

I listened idly to the conversation, which was more or less Eagle and Fox hesitantly describing some of their escapades. Ruth was nice, I decided, and she looked mortified every time her mother made some scathing comment. Ben didn't look much better. He had his head in at least one hand most of the time, looking miserable.

Everyone noticed. Everyone saw that Ben would rather be anywhere else. Unfortunately, everyone included his mother.

"Oh, sit up, Benjamin. If you're going to be a child, go to your room until you can act otherwise," she said with a disdainful glance.

I thought Evie was going to deck her.

"Did you need something?" I cut in before I really knew what I was doing, leaning against the wall. Cool eyes slid to me, but I stared back. I'd faced monsters in human flesh. She was nothing. "Because I really don't remember anyone inviting you."

Evie snorted.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure," she said with a cool smile.

"Well, that might be because you more or less steamrolled me in the foyer after no one invited you in."

Fox choked on his water, hacking up a lung as Ruth pounded his back.

Still, Ms. Daniels remained calm, a hint of a steel smile on her face. "Violet Daniels-LaRue, dear. And you are?"

"Matthew."

"Oh, how lovely. Did your parents name you after the gospel writer?"

I had nothing against religion. Lion was one of my favorite people, and he was very religious. I didn't understand it, and I supposed I identified as Agnostic, but I thought it was kind of beautiful to have so much faith in something. Maybe one day, I'd ask Lion to tell me more about it, when I was in a better place.

Still, I supposed I knew the type of person Violet Daniels seemed to be, so I took the liberty of making some assumptions about her opinions and vowed to make her as uncomfortable as mortally possible. "No. I'm named after my uncle. He was a male stripper."

Evie burst out laughing.

Violet Daniels-LaRue went very still for a long moment as I held her gaze, waiting for a reply, but she seemed like a fish out of water. I detected distinct disgust in her eyes and the curl of her lip as she sent frosty eyes down my frame. I cocked my head. "What's wrong? You've had some underhanded comment for everyone else. Did I startle you?"

"A—uh…Matthew…" Fox whispered, glancing nervously at his mother. "Mate, it's—uh—"

"It seems you've found some unsavory company, Benjamin," Ms. Daniels said with a scrutinizing glare. "Dear, if you want my honest opinion, I'd be happy to give it."

"Actually, I didn't ask for it, just pointed out that for once, you managed to keep your mouth shut," I corrected, casually hanging another ornament on the tree. "Don't misunderstand, though. I don't have time to worry about the opinions of people like you."

She smiled, cold and brittle. "Pray tell, what do you mean by people like me?"

I slid my eyes to her. I'd stared down rapists and terrorists and killers and monsters, and I let just a bit of that side of myself bleed into my gaze, watching her eyes widen the slightest bit. "Are you asking for my honest opinion? I'd be happy to give it."

"Okay," Snake said with a forced smile as he bustled quickly into the living room, setting a hastily-made vegetable tray on the middle table. "Looks like we're all gettin' along splendid. Ms. Daniels, that's a lovely coat, where'd you get it?"

I stared her down, frost in her eyes, until she looked towards Snake. She seemed like an impressive woman who was used to getting her way, and it wasn't hard to guess that she came from money and status and enough bias to fuel a country for a year. I could tell immediately that the right company and the right dress meant more to her than the right relationships or the right communication, and I had no trouble believing that she'd disowned one of her sons after he made a few mistakes.

Evie nudged me, and I glanced down at her, finally letting my shoulders relax.

"I am adopting you," she whispered with a proud pat on my shoulder. "Effective immediately."

I snorted, handing her another ornament. "Thanks."

Evie and I continued to decorate the tree as Snake tried to keep the conversation peaceful. It seemed he and Ruth had come to some silent agreement to reroute the conversation every time it looked like it was getting dangerous, and Eagle jumped in where he could. Fox sat by his sister, hands in his lap, looking awful.

Wolf stayed wisely in the kitchen.

We finished the tree, finally, and Evie high-fived me as we gazed at our accomplishment. "Mason, come put the star on," Evie requested, handing the crystal star to Eagle, who jumped on the chance to leave the conversation.

"Looks great," Fox said, smiling a little as Eagle situated it in position. It seemed like the first genuine thing Fox had said since his mother arrived.

"Dear, it's a plastic heap of needles," his mother cut in, lowering her volume enough to pass as a side comment, but loud enough to be clearly heard. "Don't be so impressed by every little thing."

"I think it looks great," Snake said. I could tell even his infinite patience was wearing thin. "It was a last-minute thing, too, but I'm glad we did it."

"Fox, Snake," Wolf called from the kitchen. "Get in here and help me with something."

Fox quite literally leapt from the couch in a hasty escape.

"Actually, I should get going too," Evie said, picking up her purse from one of the armchairs. "I have work in an hour. Mason, walk me down?"

"Sure," Eagle said, glancing at Ruth and Ms. Daniels. "Nice to meet you, Ruth."

Eagle put his arm around Evie and walked out. Nice, Eagle. I approved.

Ms. Daniels shifted. "What an impolite bunch. I can't believe Benjamin can stand to live like this."

"Mum, please," Ruth said quietly. "You're being awful."

"Well, excuse me for speaking my mind, darling!"

"You're not excused," I muttered, packing away the excess wrapping paper and ornament boxes back into the larger containers.

"What was that? It's not polite to mutter." She paused, sighing. "Though I suppose I can't fault you, since I doubt anyone ever taught you better. Poor dear. Joseph never got the hang of etiquette, either. You remind me of him, a bit—same attitude. Never could train him out of it. Well, I suppose the problem's gone now."

Ruth gasped, pressing a hand to her mouth. Her eyes shone. I heard someone in the kitchen swear, and I heard Eagle try to talk Evie down as she prepared to storm back in.

Something snapped.

"Would you still like my honest opinion, ma'am?" I asked politely. She opened her mouth, and I continued, "Lovely, then buckle up. I think you're a stuck-up, haughty bitch with no concern or empathy for the people around you. I think you think in dollar signs and connections instead of with any shred of parental concern, and I think your status is more important to you than your children. I also think you're absolutely right—you did fail as a mother, but somehow your kids worked with your shitty parenting and did well for themselves, anyway. And hey, maybe I have no authority on it since I haven't known you long, but first impressions are powerful. One day you're going to realize that status and zeroes don't run the world quite as much as you think they do.

"One day, you're going to be old and decrepit, and no amount of money will be able to make you beautiful again, or important in whatever high society you come from, and no amount of status will save you from sickness and eventual death. Unfortunately, it seems no one's told you you're mortal like the rest of us yet, but I'll happily take the honor. One day, you're going to look around you, and you're going to be alone. And when it really matters, no amount of money or status is going to buy back loved ones you've estranged, friends you've insulted and ruined, or even acquaintances who once had pity on you. You've already lost one son, and you're well on your way to losing another, because you refuse to see what your actions and words do to the people around you. Take it from someone who's been alone—it's hard to fix and it sucks. Difference was, it wasn't my fault. I don't think you'll be able to say the same.

"Oh, and I also think you're a manner-less shit for explicitly going against your son's wishes and ambushing him like this. When someone makes their wishes clear, it's a sign of trust that you're expected to follow them. I don't give a single damn if you thought you were going to have a heartfelt reunion or fix things, you went against his wishes, and you've taken a rift and chipped away whatever meager bridge Ben gave you.

"You know, while I'm on a roll, I'll vent a little, too. I also think you're heartless and cold for kicking your son out because he made a few mistakes. Oh, no, I'm not done—you've interrupted plenty of people today, I think I can take my turn now. I don't give a single shit what Joseph did or didn't do, and I don't care if it was part of your plan for your kids or not. You're a parent, and it's your job to guide your kids when they mess up. Every kid messes up. From what I heard, when your kid messed up, you washed your hands of him and let him fall into his own depression. And then—and this is the really good part, Violet—instead of realizing what you'd done and promising to do better with the other two kids you have, you called Ben and told him to plan his little brother's funeral.

"Do you even realize how fucked up that is? Continuing my opinion, I think you thought you were upholding your rigid moral code and doing the right thing. I think that as soon as Joseph no longer fit your mold, he was useless to you anyways. I think you thought you were being strong and righteous, but news flash. That was the weakest, most selfish, arrogant thing you could've done, and from what I see, you have no guilt whatsoever. That's bordering on sociopathic, ma'am, and I should know. So in conclusion, I think you're a spineless, worthless creature with absolutely no human empathy or humanity, and one day when you die alone and afraid, it's going to be well-deserved. You reap what you sow, and you'll have one hell of a harvest by the time you die."

I delivered the speech calmly and coolly, maintaining eye contact with my shoulders set, and at the end, there was silence. There was not one single peep of noise coming from the kitchen or the foyer, where Evie and Eagle were still standing by the door, nor from the couch. Violet Daniels-LaRue was staring at me with something between hatred, disgust, and the telltale fear of a human confronted with mortality. Ruth wasn't breathing.

"But, like I said, that's just my opinion," I said, waving a hand in her general direction. I picked my way through the boxes in her direction and stopped beside her.

It was nothing like Lion's father, but I had a feeling Fox had suffered abuse, too, of a different kind. It was hard to imagine living with this woman for eighteen years and retaining any shred of self-worth. I assumed some form of emotional abuse had transpired, and it made my blood boil. I felt the same rage I felt when I looked at Lion's worthless father, but I'd been able to take it out physically on him. If I did it on this small woman, I'd do irreparable damage.

That didn't mean I couldn't show her who I was without physical force.

I looked down at her, and I smiled. I felt someone I hated seeping through, someone the mirror never showed—the spy, the one who came out on missions and stood up to terrorists and psychotic masterminds—but I supposed this was a special occasion. The smile was razor sharp and full of ice shards and cold fury, and I could feel the hint of blood in my eyes. Maybe it was overkill for a mother who just didn't know her place, but Fox was miserable.

He was kind of rude sometimes, and he didn't really understand personal space, and he did and said some things I didn't like. But he was also one of the strongest people I knew, one of the most loyal, one of the kindest, in his own unique way. He was a little loud, kind of funny, a bit of a jokester and a lot of a pain in the arse. He commanded attention in a room in his movements and words. Ben was all of these things and more.

His mother had taken five minutes to reduce him to a quiet, resigned man who looked like he was physical pain.

I know how she is. I—shit, I just wanted to… Fox had trailed off before, but I could imagine what he wanted to say. I just wanted to spend a holiday not worrying about the bitch who drove my little brother to suicide.

She'd driven one son to suicide, and Fox was too important to me for her to push him anywhere near that point.

"I don't like people who hurt the people I care about," I said, staring down my nose at her as she sat, frozen. Her lips were parted slightly, her skin was milky white, and her eyes held nothing but awed fear. "And I don't have money or status, but I'm not someone to mess with. Why don't you use your money to do a public service for a change and book yourself a flight home? The sooner the better."

I stood over her for a few seconds longer, rolling my shoulders back. I clenched my injured hand, letting the pain ease me back into myself, and looked away from her. "I'm going out. Don't be here when I get back."

I didn't wait for a response. I eased past a frozen Evie and Eagle, slipping into my trainers and grabbing my coat from the rack.

"Holy shit," Eagle breathed. "Cub—"

"Not right now." I shut the door on him and jogged down the staircase and out into the freezing snow, turning up my collar and shoving my hands into my pockets.

I probably should've grabbed more layers, but hopefully the chill would cool me off a little. I felt hot adrenaline buzzing in my fingertips, begging for an outlet, but I couldn't give it one. Unless, of course, I wanted to use Ms. Daniels as my outlet, which didn't seem like the brightest idea.

I wasn't dressed for it, and I doubted I'd healed enough for it, but I started jogging. I needed some outlet for the buzz. I watched my breath cloud in front of me as my lungs adjusted to the familiar burn, exacerbated by the stinging cold, and ran. My thigh started hurting a few minutes in, but I ignored it and kept going.

I supposed I might've overdone it. I didn't feel guilty for anything I'd said, but I felt guilty for stepping in when Fox might not have wanted me to. I couldn't imagine I'd done anything to improve their relationship. Still, I couldn't handle the things she was saying. I'd lost enough loved ones to know how horrible it was, how crushing and devastating and obliterating, yet she viewed it as taking care of a problem?

I sped up, gritting my teeth against the burn, and turned a corner, barely keeping my balance as I hit a patch of ice. Shit. I couldn't believe her. It sucked, because I knew monsters were real, I knew they existed in the people I'd faced and in Lion's father and the heads of MI6, but Fox's mother was a different kind of monster—I was willing to bet she had absolutely no idea how much she hurt the people around her.

After twenty minutes, the ache in my leg finally became painful enough that I slowed to a walk, freezing sweat on my brow and back. I looked around to find myself on the edge of a shopping district, still bursting with life and last-minute shoppers—four days until Christmas. I wondered where I'd be spending it. L-Unit had to leave before we could really work out the details, so I didn't know if family was coming in, or they were leaving, or both.

I figured they wouldn't leave me alone. I felt niggling doubt in the back of my mind, but I tried to squish it down. I trusted them not to leave me alone on Christmas—I just didn't know where I'd be. Well, as long as I had one of them, I'd be alright.

I still needed a present for Lion, so I ducked into one of the shops and grabbed a coffee from the café inside, then perused the shelves. It was some kind of clothing store, and I really doubted I'd find much for him here, but it was a nice way to warm up and kill time. It was mostly empty, too, so I didn't have to worry about avoiding a lot of people.

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket and took it out, seeing an incoming call from Snake. I answered. "Hello?"

"Where are ye?" He asked first, which was typical of him. "Are ye safe?"

"I'm safe. I'm in a shop down around Station and Beech Road," I said, peeking out the front windows for the street signs at the intersection. "I'll be back soon. Is she gone?"

"Mate, she couldn't leave fast enough," Snake admitted, a hint of something in his voice. Maybe pride, maybe surprise, maybe both. "Fox didn't even see her off, which she wasn't happy about, but she's gone. On her way back to the London airport. She was vocal about it, too, I tell ye."

"Is Ruth still there?"

"Yeah, she and Fox are talking in his room."

"That's fine. She was nice."

Snake scoffed. "Ye're ridiculous, mate. I never would've guessed ye had that kinda fire in ye. Ye're so quiet."

I paused, leaning against one of the aisles and closing my eyes, suddenly really tired. "I don't like people like her. Is Fox mad at me?"

There was a long pause. "Of course not. Why would ye think that?"

I shrugged, even though I knew he couldn't see me, and suppressed a full-body shiver. I really should've dressed warmer. "I stepped in without his permission. I can't imagine I did anything to really improve their relationship."

"No, Alex, he's not mad. If anything, I think he's grateful," Snake corrected gently. "He was so relieved when she got ready to leave."

I nodded to myself, a bit of satisfaction in my gut, but it was quickly overtaken by a wave of fear. "Is Ruth okay?"

"She's happy now that her mum's gone, I reckon," Snake said quietly. "She was a little surprised, I think. Hell, mate, I think we were all a little surprised."

Yeah. That's what I was worried about.

"I'll be back soon," I said quietly. I'd give them some space before I went back.

"Nah, Wolf's on his way to get you."

I felt my eyes widen, irrational fear in my stomach. "N-No, he really doesn't have to do that—"

"He wouldn't take no for an answer, lad," Snake said, careful suspicion in his tone. "What's goin' on?"

I felt familiar apprehension in my blood. I didn't want to face any of them this soon. "Nothing. I'll wait here. Thanks." I hung up the phone before he could argue.

The cashier gave me a look somewhere between questioning and concerned, but I went to the back of the store, trying to find some solitude before Wolf got here. Shit, he was gonna be mad. I didn't want to face him. Any of them, really.

Familiar panic ate its way through me, the kind of panic I felt after Bear watched me subdue and threaten Lion's father, when Jonah was crying. The kind of panic that ate its way out from my heart and to my fingers and toes and brain, consuming and inescapable. I wondered if I'd scared them. I'd felt myself get dark, recess to the person I was in the midst of missions and homeless camps—someone cold. Someone cruel. Not the broken person in the mirror, but the person in my mind who lived and fed off of my trauma.

The spy MI6 wanted, the operative SCORPIA had tried to create from me.

I wondered if I'd scared them.

My phone buzzed, and I waited a minute before I took it out. It was from Wolf.

Where the bloody hell are you there's thirty shops on this street

I sent him my location and tossed my coffee cup in the rubbish by the door, then went to wait on the icy sidewalk so he could see me. A couple minutes later, Wolf's car pulled up to the curb and I got in, pausing to check the rooftops across the street. I brushed snowflakes from my hair and put my seatbelt on, but he was already driving.

"Thanks for getting me," I offered when he didn't say anything, but he just nodded.

Well. Awkward silence wasn't something I was unfamiliar with, but I didn't like it.

It was a couple more minutes before Wolf finally spoke. "What the bloody hell is wrong with you?"

Ah. There it was. I felt myself cringe a little, the fire from earlier having been snuffed out by the run and the ice and the fear, and shrugged. "I didn't like what she was saying." It was true, but it seemed like a weak defense after my surprising eloquence from earlier. I supposed Ian had rubbed off on me more than I really realized.

Wolf cut his eyes to me. "No, dumbarse. You verbally destroyed her, and you look like someone just kicked your dog."

I turned to look at him, caught off guard, and blinked in surprise. "What?"

"If I'd gotten that honor, I'd be fucking celebrating," Wolf clarified, scowling all the while. God, he really needed to sync his facial expressions to his emotions. "Yet here you sit, huddled up in some pathetic little ball of…not celebration."

"That was eloquent," I deadpanned.

"Save it, tonto. What's wrong with you?"

Wolf was not comforting. He wasn't one to give assurance or empty words. Fox was kind of brusque about it, but I knew he meant well with his words. Eagle said a lot without saying much at all, but I knew he was always looking for ways to reassure others. Snake was a saint with infinite patience and an entire book of honest and kind reassurances to make any situation seem not quite so bad.

Wolf had none of that. He had brutal honesty and clinical scrutiny.

Maybe that was why I could be honest.

"On missions…I can't just be…you know, a kid," I admitted, putting my throbbing knuckles against the cold window. "I have to be someone a lot worse. Someone I don't like." Someone that scared me. "It gets kind of…intense…and sometimes it's…hard to pull myself out of it."

Wolf was silent, scowling steadily, but he didn't say anything. I shrugged a little, feeling obligated to continue, and said, "I was afraid I'd scare you guys."

Wolf reacted to that.

He raised an incredulous eyebrow and turned his head in my direction, completely honest surprise in his eyes. "You thought you'd scare us."

I shrugged, fidgeting under his gaze. "Um…yeah."

Wolf laughed.

Genuinely laughed.

I'd heard him chuckle, seen him smile, but I'd never heard him full-on cackle like he was now. I stared at him, feeling heat flame in my cheeks as he laughed at me, torn between being pissed off and laughing with him, because it was surprisingly infectious. "Why're you laughing at me?"

Wolf stopped long enough to catch his breath, nearly wrecking the freaking car as he made the next turn. "You—you're thirty fucking years too early if you think a pipsqueak like you is going to scare me, chico," he chuckled, sounding honestly like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "And if you think you scared my unit, then I'm going to need a new one. No, Cub, you didn't scare us. I'm thinking of throwing you a bloody party."

Something warm cracked through the ice in my chest, because Wolf didn't care about meaningless reassurance. He didn't care about lying to spare someone's feelings.

"Good," I said quietly, smiling a little. "That's…that's good."

"Yeah, it's good. Mierda, Cub, you were bloody brilliant back there. I didn't know you had that in you."

"That's what Snake said."

"Well, he was right. It was brutal and exactly what that bloody bitch deserved. Good riddance. I probably would've hit her if she'd stayed any longer."

"I thought about it," I admitted.

"Why do you think Snake dragged me into the kitchen when things got tense?"

I hummed in acknowledgement as we pulled into the garage. "Thanks for coming to get me."

"Well, you ran off on your bloody shot leg, so I figured someone had to come rescue you."

I rolled my eyes. "I would've been fine."

"Yeah, whatever."

Fox and Ruth were still in Fox's room when we got back. Eagle was wrapping presents again, so Snake fussed over me for a minute until I assured him that I was fine, then sent me into the living room. He followed me in a second later with a cup of coffee. "How's yer leg?"

"It's really fine," I promised. "It aches, but I think it's more from the cold. How's Fox?"

Snake glanced back towards the bedrooms, eyes tight. "Shaken. He'll be alright, though."

I hesitated, then nodded. I wasn't completely satisfied with Snake's judgment, but I knew he wouldn't lie about that, so I took it for now.

"James, Tia Adelita just called, so I said ye'd call her back when ye got here," Snake shouted to Wolf.

"I think if you were a couple years older, Evie would leave me for you," Eagle deadpanned when I was settled, earning a blank glance and a laugh from Snake. "Seriously. I haven't seen her so awestruck since I took her to Disneyland in France."

I felt myself blushing spectacularly, a little uncomfortable. "Um—"

"He's messing with ye, don't worry," Snake said, ruffling my hair.

I hummed in acknowledgement and sipped on the coffee, glancing at the tree. It did actually look really good. I was glad I'd gotten to decorate. Maybe I could get a tree for L-Unit's flat, if they didn't have one already, and decorate when they got home. Might be a nice surprise.

My phone buzzed in my pocket—someone was calling me. I took it out, expecting Tom, but saw an unknown number.

Cold fear settled in my stomach.

"Cub?" Eagle said, sounding suddenly worried. I felt the blood drain from my face all the way to me feet, and my hand shook. "What? Who is it?"

"I don't know," I said quietly. I didn't know. I didn't know who it was. Was it—was it MI6? Was it SCORPIA? Was it someone else who'd found me? Was it a wrong number?

I answered it before I could talk myself out of it, well aware of all the eyes on me as I answered. It took a second to swallow the lump of fear and force my voice to work. "…hello?"

"Took you bloody long enough to answer," a familiar voice growled on the line. "What the hell were you doing?"

There was a second of long silence while my brain caught up to the familiar voice. It was a second in which the cold, cold fear was swept away by a stupidly calming amount of relief and joy, and I felt myself grin like a kid on Christmas morning, sitting pin straight on the edge of the couch. "Tiger!"

"Who the hell else would it be? Bloody hell, I'm tired," he muttered. "Miss you, kid. Wanted to call and let you know we'll be back in…Lion! Tomorrow or the next day?"

There was a scuffle in the back, bickering voices that I didn't know how much I missed until I heard it again and my chest ached, it ached in a way that let me know I had grown irreversibly attached to these stupid people, and my entire world brightened in the way it did when Ian came home from a long trip.

"Hey, Alex," Lion said, voice tired but fond over the line. "You doing okay? Everything good? Yes, Bear, he's right here, don't—don't grab at the bloody phone, mate—"

"Alex!" I heard Bear yell, and I felt my face hurt with how wide I smiled, how relieved I was that they all sounded safe and unhurt and safe. "Hey, mate! Geez, we've missed you! Tiger's spacey, he has a bit of a concussion, but we'll be back late tomorrow night. We'll swing by and get you and then go home. Sound good?"

Sound good, he asked. Did it sound good.

"Yeah," I managed, feeling dangerously powerful relief sweep through me. "Yeah, that…that sounds great, Bear. I can't wait to see you guys. And—and go home."

There was a careful second of silence on the other end, and I could practically hear them smile. Lion spoke next, with an obvious smile. "See you soon, kiddo. We'll be home soon."

It felt true.

For the first time in a really long time, home felt like somewhere I could go, where I'd be safe. Loved.

I felt so stupid for thinking it, but a thought came to mind, and after it did, I couldn't seem to get rid of it.

There really was no place like home.