NOTE: I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS, WHICH RIGHTFULLY BELONG TO ANTHONY HOROWITZ. I ONLY OWN THE PLOT.
Falcon opened his eyes when he heard the stifled laugh. They were all there, in the doorway. Eagle was clutching his stomach, tears of silent laughter rolling down his face. Wolf was grinning, actually grinning for once, while Snake had his phone out, snapping pictures of Falcon and the boy asleep on his chest. Fox was smiling, behind them, and gave Falcon a nod of approval, to which he responded with a nod of his own.
Falcon shifted on the bed, his back and neck screaming from being in the same position for most of the night. He ran his fingers through his hair, which had first been shaved for the military but was now growing back by inches. It was a little longer than he liked, but he'd deal with it. There were more important things to attend to. Like getting out of this compromising position.
Last night's episode hadn't caught him completely by surprise. The boy's panic attack wasn't entirely unexpected but thankfully, he still remembered how to calm down someone after one. He'd done it plenty of times for his childhood friends (and himself after they left).
It had certainly been an experience that he was not like to forget very soon. The teen's broken, empty, terrified, brown eyes staring into his own. The way Alex had clutched at him as he struggled to ground himself, to do the simple act of breathing.
Falcon had a big heart. Or at least, it'd been more obvious before he'd joined up. The military had sobered him, changed him more than he liked to admit. He still laughed, and cracked corny jokes and pulled pranks, but he left all the craziness to Eagle. Mainly, he was just there for his team. If any of them needed to talk, he listened. He held them when they cried, and partied when they'd had a good day. B-Unit called him Mom, saying he should have been a psychologist. It was a running joke at Brecon Beacons. Mom, the twenty-five year-old Irish dork, who danced funny, sang well, and cheered up the meanest person just by being there. They told him his smile was contagious.
Yeah. That's what his friends had said too. Back when life was so very different.
He could relate to Alex in some way, he supposed. They were both lost, lonely, people just trying to carve out their way in the world, recover from their past, but then fate kept stepping in with different ideas.
It'd been a while before he'd witnessed something like that. And it made him miss his family. Not his blood family. No, his second family. Don't think about them. It'll only bring pain.
"So. Anything new?" Falcon asked the unit, yawning.
Wolf shook his head. "Looks like this is the only difference. What happened?"
Falcon looked down at Alex, thoughts swirling once again. Did he have a right to spill Alex's secrets? What had happened last night was very personal, very private, and very, very embarrassing. If he had a chance on being there for the teen, helping him move on from whatever had happened to him, well, he wasn't about to burn his bridges before they were even made.
"He needed some company." He smiled then laughed. Judging by the looks on his team-mates' faces, they clearly weren't buying it.
He gently moved Alex off of him and onto the bed, the teen's eyelids twitching. They opened. One pair of confused brown eyes met a bright blue pair of laughing ones.
"Good morning, sleeping beauty." Falcon said good-naturally.
Alex groaned and closed his eyes again, curling into the blankets.
"How do you feel?" He asked, poking the boy in the shoulder.
"Leave me alone." Alex mumbled.
"Not a morning person, huh?" He chuckled, his smile becoming sad, memories of another dark-haired teen who hated mornings filling his mind.
Alex said something under his breath that left Falcon whistling and wondering where he learned language like that.
"It's ok. I'll bring breakfast up, but you'd better be ready for it." Falcon slid off the bed, and marched out of the room with the others, leaving Alex to catch some more sleep, or, hopefully, realize how much he needed to get out of bed and keep moving.
******************************
Alex had heard everything.
Everything.
He couldn't believe that Falcon hadn't told K-Unit the truth. He'd kept it a secret. How did a complete stranger know that that's what Alex had wanted?
They'd just met. Crazy. They knew nothing about each other. Insane.
For some reason, Falcon looked vaguely familiar to him. Maybe he'd seen someone who looked a little like him on magazine covers or something. Falcon definitely had the face and the smile of a model.
But Alex looked past the smile-lines and humor, and saw a hurting person. He'd seen the pain in those blue/grey eyes. It wasn't harsh, but it was there. It was definitely there.
And he recognized it.
And, more than anything, Alex wanted to know why. He knew a grand total of nothing about K-Unit's new member. To be honest, he hadn't even thought that maybe they'd have replaced Fox, so Falcon's presence came as a complete surprise. Once he'd gotten over the initial shock of it there was the issue of him needing to pretend to be asleep.
The surprise wasn't entirely unwelcome though. Falcon had helped Alex breathe again. He hadn't judged. He'd kept one of Alex's weakest moments a secret. So he couldn't be all bad.
But who was he?
Alex shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, and began to climb out of bed. Without warning, his lungs decided to quit. Blood filled his mouth, and he coughed, trying to clear his airways, his pitiful wheezes painfully quiet. He crumpled to the floor, hands clutching his sweatshirt, blood dribbling out of his mouth. Was he finally dying?
His vision faded in and out. For the second time in less than twenty-four hours, he found himself suffocating.
Perfect.
Somewhere, he heard the door open, and someone rush in. They were prying his hands away from his chest, shouting to someone else, someone standing in the doorway, on their phone.
"It's okay. It's okay. Help's on the way."
It was Falcon. Somehow, that made Alex feel just a tiny bit better. He gripped the hands that held his own, as Snake came from behind and lifted him into a sitting position. It was a little easier now. But the blood was quickly filling his lungs faster than he could clear them.
Alex realized what he'd done. He'd had a panic attack last night, and in his desperate gasps for oxygen, he'd torn his lung open again. The bullet had clipped it, and although it had been healing, he'd probably just ruined any progress it had made. Sitting up in bed had probably caused it to bleed and overflow into his lungs.
"The ambulance is here, Alex. Just stay with us for a while longer. Little breaths. That's it." Falcon's voice was soft, reassuring.
Paramedics rushed into the room, slow motion, carrying him down the stairs, placing him on a stretcher. They wheeled him into the ambulance, and Falcon went with them, Alex never once letting go of the one thing grounding him.
On the road, Alex was given an oxygen mask to help clear his lungs. But he wasn't allowed to sleep. Exhausted as he was, Alex found this a near impossible requirement. Every time Alex's eyes started to slip closed, Falcon would squeeze his hand and talk to him gently, covering random topics ranging from a favorite color to family back home. He never once asked Alex to respond, simply being there and keeping the teen awake.
"Alex. Wake up. Stay with me, kiddo." There were lights flashing above him, and Falcon was running next to the stretcher.
"Sir. You can't come with us. You need wait in the room with the others." A strange voice said.
"Alex. I have to go. But I'll be back. You're safe with these people." Falcon said, his voice borderline urgent.
Alex realized he was still clutching Falcon's hand. He let go, and watched the soldier slowly disappear down the hall, the florescent lights reflecting off the floor.
A wave of exhaustion swept over him and he gave in, letting the darkness take him over. There was no-one left to stand in-between him and the yawning chasm. He fell headfirst, plunging into unconsciousness.
******************************
Wolf didn't know what to think. Alex only had been with them for two days and already been shot at by terrorists, confirmed their suspicions of PTSD, and flat-lined on a hospital gurney. Oh, did he forget to mention that? Falcon had come running into the waiting room, breathless and pale, saying that Alex's heart had stopped in the hallway soon after they made him leave, before they even reached the surgery room.
Now, watching the teen sleep on the hospital bed, with tubes and needles sticking out of him, Wolf couldn't help but feel lost.
He knew what to do on the battlefield. Out in a war zone, he knew what to do to save people's lives. In dangerous situations where the wrong decision could mean dead men, he knew how to lead. How to protect.
But not for a teenager.
No. A teenager was uncharted territory and Wolf was terrified of it. Out of the entire unit, Falcon was the only one acting normal around the kid.
Well, if you call mommy-ing normal.
Whatever had happened two nights ago was a big deal, no matter what Falcon said.
Then there was Falcon. He was still pretty new. He hadn't had an actual war-zone experience, hadn't yet encountered the enemy. He was quiet. Wolf knew nearly nothing about him.
Alex had seem totally comfortable around him. A man he'd just met.
What did that say about the differences between himself and Falcon? Sure, when he met Alex he wasn't very nice, but things had changed. He had answers now. He knew that Alex wasn't some stuck up rich boy, who needed discipline so badly that his parents had to send him to a military training camp. Alex was a spy. A bloody good one at that.
But he was also a child. A child that was currently fighting for their life on the operation table, while members of his SAS unit sat around in nervous silence.
It was awful. Wolf was scared for a kid who he'd just met and knew nearly nothing about. He was filled with trepidation about the next several months ahead of him. He really didn't want to mess this boy up anymore than he already was. He didn't want to be responsible for the mental health of a sixteen year-old.
But he was. And just like everything else in the life of a soldier, he'd do his best for Queen and country.
Because that was his duty.
And it was what he lived for.
So sorry this was late. My computer broke (it's still broken RIP BABY) but I managed to get my writing onto my mom's laptop and now I'm updating. SO yeah... hope you enjoyed it!
Don't forget to comment and vote! It means so much to me!!
Over and out,
AgentAlexxRider101
"Fear God. Honor the king." - 1 Peter 2:17b
P.S. If I get five reviews within the next few days, I'll post the next chapter. Bwahahahahaha!! There. Some incentive.