𝙑𝙞𝙭𝙚𝙣 || 𝙏𝙧𝙞𝙥𝙡𝙚 𝙁𝙧𝙤𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙚𝙧

Two.

Matthew refused the money, to which Santiago only pushed it further into his hands. "I can't take this. I don't even know you."

"Your sister and I go way back. Count yourself lucky, kid."

Matthew blinked back tears and fought hard to let her go. "Swear on your life that you're going to protect her at all costs."

"Matth-"

"No, Margo! I can't lose anybody else!" Matthew raised his voice and with wide eyes, he looked at Santiago. "Swear, now, or else she can't go."

"I swear, son."

Margo excused herself from the living room and made her way to her bedroom and without thinking twice, in a hurry, she piled necessities into a hiking bag, concluding of clothes fit for purpose, some deodorants, food because she knew they wouldn't be travelling through normal security and a toothbrush with toothpaste. With one final glance around the room, she exited and shut the door behind her. 

Matthew pulled his sister into his arms and held her close, to which she batted her thick eyelashes to suppress tears. She could hear him sniffling, this being the first time they've been apart for a week in six years but they both knew this had to be done, despite him not knowing where she was going or what she was going to do. It scared him to think that she could never make it home but the man swore to protect her and he had to believe that's what he'd do.

"I love you, Matthew." Margo pulled back and stroked his cheeks with her thumb, slightly reaching up to his 6"4 frame. "I'll be back before you know it."

"Don't make promises you can't keep. When you were gone with dad, I stayed up most nights waiting for you to return but this time feels different."

Santiago placed his grip on Margo's arm to insist they leave. The clock was ticking and they had places to be with people to greet. So, with one last hug, Margo sent her brother a wink to encourage his thoughts, reminding him of how strong she was and if she could survive Afghanistan, she could come out of hell with a smile.

***

To make things easier, Margo decided to stay at Santiago's place overnight. They'd be leaving around three o'clock in the morning and she didn't want to kick start her brother's day with her departure, and so, they dropped her belongings at his house before setting off to meet the rest of the gang.

Margo was afraid. Once again, she drowned her sorrows in a bottle of gin, wincing at the slight aftertaste it left in her mouth. Its thick, bitter substance seeping down her throat like fire. She kept drinking it in hopes to forget about the memories that would arise upon seeing her former lover whom she left in a cloud of dust behind her, guessing she'd never see him again but tonight, she'd come face to face with him and the rest of them and pay the debts she'd caused.

When her heels clicked against the concrete floor in the backroom of the arena, she made out a hooded figure sitting on a bench amongst the blue lockers in their surroundings. The man didn't have time to recognise her as Pope pulled him into his arms, patting him on the back with a smile as they too hadn't seen each other in years.

"What did he say?" William's southern accent blessed her ears.

"He's taking a look at it." Pope said before he slightly moved to the side. "I think someone needs to make up for lost time."

Margo came into William's sight and whilst her veins surged with nostalgia and anxiety, his heart broke but his face remained calm. With his arms folded, he could only glare at the woman who caused him six years of ache, which surprised her in the slightest, giving he was the most forgiving person she knew, but she deserved the evil eyes because she left them all without warning.

To him, Margo looked the same. She was still gorgeous but a little rugged, as though she'd been through a whole war of her own without their help and guidance. Small scars were still evident on her face but now, they were grey and hid behind freckles that littered over the bridge of her nose and caressed her pink cheeks. Her hair fell short round her shoulders and he remembered how long her long her vibrant locks used to be. She seemed dull and lifeless but it wasn't his problem, even though he yearned to revive her.

To her, William had changed a great deal. Back in the Special Forces, he kept a clean shaven face and he looked far younger than his real age. His eyes were bright and full of light, ready to help a fallen friend in milliseconds. Now, stress lines polluted his forehead, making him look a decade older and his eyes were dark blue, a storm in his lenses as he observed her with disinterest and he looked as though he wouldn't help anybody, not even himself. He was cold and she only had herself to blame.

"I have nothing to make up for." William pursed his lips.

Santiago stood in front of Margo who appeared to be irritated and so to prevent her from lunging, he put the conversation back on track. "He might not be up for this."

"You know he's the best for something this complex." William kept his arms folded. "And he needs this right now."

After the crowd roared in the background, William scoffed. "This shit is fucking depressing."

"C'mon. Let your brother have some fun. Support him." Margo piped up.

William glared at her for even opening her mouth. "I've been supporting him since the day he was born. That kid's a one-in-a-million talent, going out there, playing the fucking clown to a bunch of hillbillies."

The door swung open and a loud bang echoed the locker room. Though the person wasn't in sight yet, Margo smirked, leaning against the locker's door. She didn't have to see who was making the ruckus because she already knew who it was and the anticipation of meeting him again made her heart pump with excitement; Benny.