You saw the helicopter when it landed, several meters away from your disguised camouflaged form within the high sky reaching trees of Russia. You kept your eyes on the scope, able to see with the zoomed in and the well equipped sniper you had within your hands. You moved the scope away from the helicopter before anyone got out and back to where Stitch stared at the grave site.

Perhaps you were imagining things. But there was something strange about how Stitch's shoulders looked from where you were. Almost resigned. Accepting. But that can't be right.

He must be wishing to put on a final show, you thought. Stitch can say what he wishes but he does have some appreciation for theatrics.

Different from Perseus. You wonder even now what the man would say. Your once friend and superior, your confidant. Stitch wonders the same you're sure. You do not presume to know about what Perseus would think, but you can see that Stitch has gone quite far. For the Perseus Collective. Not quite as devastating as it could've been if you didn't ruin Perseus's plans for Europe, but a blow nonetheless. Just as dangerous.

You can admire that at least. You never have been surrounded by stupid men.

Perhaps you should've, you tell yourself as you move your scope, your heart thundering as you looked for the form only for your breath to hitch when you found it. Him.

Adler.

You flexed your jaw, seeing Mason pat Adler's shoulder before setting him off. Alone. To Stitch.

You wanted to spit at the foolishness, almost shaking your head but you could only watch as Adler drew nearer to Stitch.

Through comms, you heard Stitch say your name calmly—the old one, the true one that never felt quite the same no matter what he did or say or what the others could do. As if he could sense your trepidation from where he was at only to begin to turn when Adler came upon him with his pistol in hand.

Your finger twitched, moving towards the trigger as you watched and heard the interaction through comms. Your teeth being gritted and brows heavily furrowed and your heart feeling as if it would burst out of your chest from how fast it was going.

This was it.

Recompense.

A chance.

Redemption.

Seeing the man, hearing his voice—it brought memories. Too many. Despite Stitch finding you bleeding on the cliffs and Perseus and him deprogramming you, it did not take away the memories. Of Vietnam. All of them. Not just Fracture Jaw. You can close your eyes and see it being played, sometimes you even dreamed of it. Of claps to the shoulders and back, of teases from Sims and you doing the same about his magazines with Adler doing the same, of talks on the beaches, of trading of rations and eyes the color of the Arctic sea with it's clearness winking at you to hush. For others to not get ideas he's not spoiling you. The ways you would have his back like he always did yours. Of coughing harshly at trying a cigarette of his and him and the squad laughing at you and your face.

But you knew how to smoke. Stitch told you after he offered you one when you were recovering from your wounds.

"As if you were a chimney that only swallowed instead of expel," the man would say in reference to how many packs you used to smoke, a tease in his tone and a fondness you couldn't give back. You couldn't remember. Only what you knew. Vietnam. The safehouse. The cliffs. Stitch seemed to tell when you were troubled by that, because he would hush you quietly, and carefully putting an arm around your shoulder and whispering vengeance to your ears. "The Westerners will pay, zaya. Adler will get justice for what he's done. Just rest."

Zaya. зая. Little rabbit.

They must've been close. But you don't remember. Only what you know. And what you know has made you trust anyone very little. You didn't think you could trust anyone again.

Adler's words haunted you. The last words especially. Calling you a hero. But it wasn't so. You were a pawn, nothing more. No one will know your name—what you did for Adler's country. Only Adler does. The CIA. Even than, what was done to you, it was only told to certain people within the organization. Others will thank Adler for what he did. Stopping the nukes. Stopping the destruction and murders of millions of people.

You were quiet with the others. Perseus would visit you if it wasn't Stitch. And if not Stitch, it was this woman called Portnova. She said you used to be legend within the KGB when you worked with them. You don't remember, no matter what they say. Perseus looking at you sadly yet with grim determination while Stitch seemed to be at a loss and only grew angrier. Not at you. He never did despite his harsh appearance. At everything else. Adler especially.

You didn't know what to do.

You stopped these people from killing millions, but they were. . .kind to you. Patient. Even with your nightmares that were more night terrors as you screamed and yelled about red door's and jungles and needles and T.V.'s. Perseus did not let any television be near you if you walked around the large safehouse or any other they went to after your recovery, and if there were, they always had to be on. Stitch didn't let others hold you down if they had to give you medicine through a poke, a deadly glare and hiss if they tried. Knowing you hated being trapped or stopped in any form. You at first even had trouble with blankets being over you—feeling as if they were choking you, gripping you, like a firm touch to your jaw and you would sometimes hallucinate and see suede shades for walls above you when you awoke.

They aren't good. Not what you know of the word, at least the you now.

But they were kind. To you.

And that was what made you conflicted.

They weren't good but they were kind.

The others were good but they were liars.

Adler would kill you if he knew you were alive. You knew he would. Because that's what he tried to do the first time. Missing just by an inch.

"A miracle, you've always been one." Perseus said at the news, much later when you were almost fully recovered and were at a loss on what to do as the Russian man smiled kindly at you, the lines on his face apparent when he did it. "Since I happened to find you all those years ago. Alone by a gulag and wishing to get supplies just to get by. Looking as if you were a rat that went for a swim in a dumpster. Your round eyes looking at me like I was insane. Perhaps you were more a mouse."

You were alone. You felt like you always were. In one way or another. It explained a lot.

Your loyalty.

Why you would kill millions for one and save millions for another.

You were dangerous.

You do not know it was more then or more now when you are at a loss on whose side you're on now.

When Perseus said that though, you couldn't help but disagree. You think the world just wants you to suffer. Suffer from surviving Arash. Surviving torture. Brainwashing. Barely escaping Volkov. Almost dying in Cuba. Again in Solovetsky. Only to suffer once more from a bullet to the chest. Overlooking the pretty horizon as you slowly bled out and eyes squinting against the sun and green grass stained red along with the flowers moving with the cold arctic wind.

Perseus only strengthened his words more, after cursing both Arash for his traitorous ways and for Volkov for not informing him about you immediately.

"You're a survivor. You've always been." He said, comforting hand to your shoulder as you could only stare. Throat oddly tight as he looked down at you kindly, a small smile under his mustache. "You're the best out of all of us. Why do you think you were my second?"

You do not think he solely meant your skill set.

He soon added that he believes Adler saw the same. And used you for it. The way you were. Your perseverance and loyalty. With false bonds and lies.

You kept silent. Throat only getting tighter and eyes strangely feeling pressured.

It was true. Vietnam was fake. No matter what you saw when you slept.

But the safehouse.

The safehouse.

You went through every moment within that place the time you were with Perseus and recovering. Them not pushing you to go back to work for them. They had others that could do what you could. But they would remind you that you were always the best. Thanks to that, you played back everything. What was lies. Half lie. Half truth. And if there were any truths to begin with.

It always got muddy with Adler.

Even when you were with them, after a moment with Adler in the safehouse, you would needlessly analyze the interaction and scrutinize it. What he said. What he didn't say but you can see something between the lines he wants you to read. Wanted you to read. How he would stare at you. All moments when they didn't mention Vietnam or another event that Adler would say happened but you just don't remember cause of your accident—just speaking. About anything. Indulging your wants with the camera. Indulging your reading. You realized you loved him from those moments, a book in your hand and an Ernest Hemingway quote on your lips of days that will ever be while he had his cigarette in hand and his shoulder to your back to lean over you and a wry tone matching his words "Here's to the other shitty days to come and all the wars that comes with it, kid." You don't know why that sentence of all things made you realize your heart was battering against your ribs for a reason. Maybe it was how he said it, how his breath on your neck and hair felt, his scent that's all nicotine and masculine cologne—maybe it was because in his own way he finished the quote and the fact he knew the quote in the first place to summarize it so well. A soldier tired of wars but expecting them either way. Maybe it was all of that.

Still.

You do not understand these moments. No matter how you try to look at it.

You just know your chest weighed heavily each time you thought on it, and you thought often.

It was months after recovery, your Russian accent slowly coming back and mixing with your American one, you awakening from a nightmare due to Stitch waking you up with a certain look in his eyes as he called your name that you don't feel is yours.

"You were calling for his name." At your questioning glance, Stitch just continued to stare at you. Almost assessing. "Adler," he spat. "Tell me, zaya, did he make you love him too?"

You didn't know how to answer. Only staring at your lap but that's all Stitch needed because he quickly stood up and paced and cursed and fists clenching and muscles tensing.

You watched as he did and something seemed to click.

"We weren't just friends, were we?" Stitch stopped, head bowed and and back facing you. You tried to think back once more, but you came out blank. Only little flashes of something, of hands and stray touches but that could be anything. "I. . . I'm sorry. I—I don't remember."

He just turned towards you, moving slowly and his shoulders appearing slouched as he sat next to you with a chair by your bed. His eyes crinkled sadly, and he brought a hand up, almost ghosting over your cheek and you let him. Almost entranced at how soft his face could be, even with one blind eye.

"Do not apologize, mon zaya. Perhaps with time."

You don't think so. MK—Ultra is powerful. Even with deprogramming, it only worked getting rid of the trigger phrase. You don't think you'll ever get your memories back. Stitch knows it too. But he said the white lie anyways. You wonder if it was more for him than you.

The time came, a month later that the woman you know as Kitsune came to you and gave you a folder with an arched brow. You staring at her in mild confusion before opening the folder and you seeming to freeze, as Kitsune said they need your help and they wouldn't have asked if they didn't. You recall pressing your lips, your mind whirring with decisions and plans for those decisions that was always in the back of your mind as you stayed with them.

To save.

Or revenge.

You chose. And worked on codes and decoding. Even when Stitch gave you an out, his hand to your shoulder but close to cupping your neck gently as he stared down at you that you didn't have to do this. You remember swallowing thickly before strengthening your resolve and sticking with it. His lone eye seemed to glitter and gleam with soft pride and an emotion you can't give, but your heart quickened all the same. As if recognizing—remembering for you.

It was when Perseus got diagnosed, that you felt like you were faltering. The man slowly just kept staying in bed and say the orders there—meetings as he laid and looked pale and lost his hair. The old man still would smile at you even in pain and you didn't even realize you were crying by his side until he shushed you and put a hand to your head as you sobbed.

"Come now, radnaya, it's alright." He said, even with trembling hands he would comfort you and clear your tears. Still with that kind smile. Your chin wobbled. "I do wish I was like you now, however. I imagine you would survive this. If only I was a miracle like you. My dirty little mouse that believed in me."

"You'll survive this," you blubbered between sniffles and you didn't even notice Stitch came into the room until he put his hands on your shoulders, as if to ground you. "Y-you can. . .you shouldn't speak like you'll die. You can't." You stated without thinking. You weren't thinking at all. You always felt strongly, your eyes pleading as you grabbed Perseus's hand between your own as you pleaded with the older man seeming to share a glance over your head to Stitch. "Please. I—I don't, I don't remember anyone else. Anything else."

You don't remember your own father's face.

You don't even know if you had one.

But you know Perseus was the closest you could ever get.

Perseus smiled. And squeezed your hands and brought them to his lips to kiss the back of them.

Stitch took you away after that and a few hours later, your father figure was gone. You didn't think about how the man was the one who Adler has been obsessed with for more than a decade. How Adler will never get the chance to do the deed himself, never get the satisfaction. How he got rid of you, at least hoping to, to make sure Perseus couldn't get someone like you again. You didn't think about how Adler might look at finding out about Perseus and how you would feel about that until later.

No.

You were hurting. You were in pain.

And Stitch was too despite how he tried to hide it as he held your sobbing form to his chest. That's all you thought about, until a possible reprieve formed in your mind as Stitch's hands caressed your back in comfort, up and down to your shoulders and even tickling your neck. You moved your head to stare up at him, your eyes meeting his and something flashed within them and you took your chance.

You stretched upwards, thankful he had his mask off for once, and kissed him with your hand to the back of his neck and the other to his chest. He groaned in your mouth, in a mix of thankful need and almost as if it said finally as he easily wrapped his arms around your waist. Stitch kissed you as if you would disappear in front of him and you guess in a way that did happen already, only for him to pull back, a hand to gently on your chin. His eyes scanning your face before understanding took over at what you want. That you still didn't remember.

"Is this what you wish, mon zaya?"

You barely let him finish, kissing him again before you started dragging him to your room only for him to take lead instead to his. "More privacy," he said to your ear, breath on you before kissing it. Him laying you down on his bed and over you as he kissed you everywhere and hands wandering as you pushed his hood off him along with his many layers to feel his chest. "I missed how you taste. Mon zoya. So strong. Even after everything."

You don't feel strong. Just tired. Always tired.

But the sweet words helped, the few ones he would do to your ears outside of his quiet sounds that came from his chest more than his throat.

When you laid your head atop his bare chest, under sheets, you wonder what you've done. But. You're tired. You're in pain. And Stitch—despite everything—is kind and gentle and soft to you. You couldn't help but selfishly keep it.

And so it kept happening, Stitch as the new Perseus, and you still creating codes and more codes and backup codes and decoding and decoding in various forms as time went on. You and Stitch now together, and the Collective seemed happier with it. Almost like everything was back to normal.

You don't remember normal.

Stitch's plans were in the making and he didn't want you to help, barely answering your questions when you heard about the Numbers and somehow Adler's name being brought up. Stitch only kissing your forehead and telling you your time would come later for the Westerner that did this to you. That he shall have his turn for now.

You found out later what occurred, due to Portnova and Kitsune. Stitch brainwashed Adler.

Brainwashed Adler.

You couldn't help it, you laughed. A full guffaw towards the sky and hand to your mouth as if to stifle it but you could not help it.

Stitch was not kidding about justice.

Still. You worried.

About what?

At this point, you've accepted you'll never truly know anything again. Especially your own feelings.

You kept coding and decoding, but mostly coding. Always coding. Codes in newspapers and obscure articles, a stray TV channel. You did it.

Verdansk happened. The explosion.

Your lips formed to a wry humorless smile at Adler's work even when brainwashed. Even that can be seen as funny.

So obsessed with the mission—to stop Perseus—that his brain rewired itself to achieve it.

You remembered his words to you, after you asked him more on what he meant that Hudson doesn't trust what he couldn't control. Adler seemed to throw you a smirk as his brow arched, smoke billowing out from his mouth as he sat on his desk and you sat in front of him.

"Trust, kid, is all about control. Remember that."

You didn't forget.

You feel a little jealous though. You wish you were able to rewire yourself.

You then get the call from Stitch, to head to Verdansk. That it's time.

You checked over your codes and sent them before nodding to yourself, and leaving. It was not only you however, Naga came along too. In the forest of Verdansk. You put a hand on the tombstone, as if you could feel Perseus's hand instead but you didn't. Just stone. Hard. Cold. You lowered your hand and left to your position, Naga doing the same when you glanced towards him. Stitch coming and just waiting in front of the grave.

And now you're here, trigger on your finger and eyes on the Russian and American as they spoke which you could hear through comms. Stitch explaining what Perseus really was.

Adler, as you thought, wasn't having it.

"You're coming with me," he quietly commanded, but with all the calm authority he always exudes even though he appears he's seen better days. His wheat hair mussed and wounds upon his face and person everywhere but his arm up with the pistol steady. Always steady. And looking at Stitch in the eyes. "There's blood on your hands."

"Are your hands clean, Bell?"

You felt your face wince but Stitch threw his own retort, about what Adler did in his brainwashed state. What he did to Verdansk.

Adler scowled.

"Fuck you!" His hand tightened around the pistol and you felt sweat gather on your temples, feeling cold as you bit the inside of your cheeks and lips. You tightened your hold on the sniper as well. "I wasn't in my right mind. You saw to that."

Stitch chuckled lowly, amused and uncaring as he moved with Adler's pistol not wavering.

"You Westerners. . . so squeamish. Look at where we are. This was the Eastern Front. The blood of millions," Stitch stressed, motioning and pointing his finger down upon the ground, "of my people so deep in this soil. Men and women, who paid the ultimate price for what had to be done."

You bit your cheek harshly, you tasting blood as your finger twitched on the trigger. You taking a quick glance to where you knew Naga was.

"You're a fucking monster." America's Monster growled out in your comms, your eyes back through your scope as your breathing felt short and your hands under your gloves felt sweaty. "I should kill you for what you've done. For what you did to me."

Ah. There's the answer than.

You took a steadying breath, staring at these two powerful men through your weapon. Before quickly moving the scope to see the helicopter and where the others were that left Adler alone in the first place, seeing they seem meters away as well from where Adler and Stitch were. You felt sweat come down your neck and temple as you closed your eyes. The world seeming to slow.

"My life no longer matters," you heard Stitch say sorrowfully. You wonder. . . Your eyes opened, moving the scope back to them but you farted your eyes back towards Naga, trying to spot him through the camouflage. The hooded man turned and let his back face Adler as the scarred man drew closer, his lips pressed together the way they always did when focused. "Do what you will." You took the safety off as Stitch's hand slowly rose, and you moved the silenced sniper and took aim, your finger squeezing as Stitch did the signal by touching his blind eye and trees rustled in the wind. "Finish what you started on Rebirth Island. My broadcast is complete." Stitch wasn't sorrowful. He sounded resigned. Your chest heaved and your heart battered as you moved once more, licking your lips and putting your eye to the scope. Hand slightly shaking around your weapon but you held your breath. "I have changed the world, Adler. In ways you can't even imagine. . ."

Your finger squeezed just like your heart did.

You slumped your body against the tree just like a body fell, your eyes closing as you hit your head against the trunk.

"What the fuck?" You heard through your comms, your lips twitching at Adler's bewildered tone. It sounded funny when he's confused. "A sniper. . ."

You heard Adler's steps walk past with the comms until you couldn't hear anymore. You sighed, shoulders slumped as you waited. Maybe if you just stayed quiet and didn't move an inch, you can live out your days in trees that almost touched the sky.

You smiled at the thought.

You heard noise from below, your eyes moving downward as you saw Adler moving and looking at the trees with his gun out. Your smile turned sad.

No, you think as you watch the man who's plagued your mind for years, the world isn't that kind to me. It never has been.

You dropped the sniper purposefully, it landing on the ground with a harsh thunk from the height. Adler immediately turning himself and his gun towards it before his eyes slowly lifted to where you were as you took the foliage off you that helped hide you. Eyes that were harsh ice widened and cleared.

"Bell?"

You barely heard the name, him almost seeming to say it to himself in disbelief. It didn't help you were quite high up. You're surprised you heard it at all.

You swiped away any remaining foliage, staring down at Adler with a passive quirk of the lips.

"Hey, Adler."

At your words, he seemed to shake himself. His eyes back to hard as he kept his gun on you. Another thing you expected. Along with his sharp tone.

"How are you alive?"

"I'm breathing," you answer, nonplussed.

"Still a little shit, I see." Adler retorted blandly before his expression maintained its stoicism as he analyzed you and your uniform, eyes narrowing at the patch you had. "You crawled back to Perseus when you got a second chance? No—you're fucking third chance?"

"I couldn't do much crawling when I'm bleeding out," you clipped from above, before you reigned it back in. You rather not fight. Not now. Despite. . .everything. "They found me. Specifically. . . Stitch did. If you wanted to kill me, you should've kicked me over the cliff for good measure. I'm here because of you."

Adler stared up at you, then glanced at your sniper than towards the direction of where Stitch's body laid. His pistol didn't lower as he moved his hawkish gaze back towards you. His mind seemed to whir and you could tell because he didn't have his shades on. You could see him now.

". . .it was you. You sent the messages."

You snorted at his slow realization, unamused. Adjusting yourself on the branch by laying your arm against your bent knee.

"Lot of good that did. You got tricked by the Nova 6 bait anyways."

"Our decoder had to leave," Adler excused with a frown. "It's not like you made the messages easy to decipher."

"I couldn't! The various things I had to do to make sure I didn't get caught, from fake codes to real ones to the ones I sent to you—don't blame me because the CIA is horrendous at analytics and linguistics of all forms."

"You're a genius, kid. Don't blame others because you're better."

The compliment threw you for a moment, you blinking at him and how easily he said it as his arms slowly lowered and his pistol was to his side but still tense.

You frowned before glancing away.

"Doesn't matter. It seems the lot of you were able to get the message on specifically where in Verdansk Stitch was going to be."

"Lot of good that did. You couldn't let me do the deed, Bell?" You didn't answer, your frown only deepening. Adler squinted up at you. "What made you do that anyways? And was what Stitch true or was he just spouting shit to sound ideological? That grave too."

"I had to do it. And. . .it's true. Perseus was never one man. Never will be. Another one will pop up after Stitch. The one you knew as Perseus though—the one we both knew as Perseus, is laying in that grave." You say, an iota of solemn in your tone.

Adler's expression darkened, his fists clenching as he cursed to himself before his eyes narrowed as they turned back towards you suspiciously.

"You were close." You didn't say anything, just stared down at Adler and met his piercing gaze. "I know the two of you were. How much did you do for Perseus, Bell? What was his plans?"

"I didn't do much," you answer carefully, eyes inscrutable. "I was recovering from my wounds in the cliff and after that I was recovering from the effects of MK-Ultra." Adler's expression didn't change, so you just continued as you sighed. "They didn't wish me to push myself, after everything. They—one day I just got a folder and I was back to coding again. But," you say immediately when Adler's expression seemed to harden, "that was when I decided to do the secret codes to the CIA in secret. They only gave me small jobs either way. Only coding. They. . .they just didn't want to push me. And what Stitch said was what they basically want."

You wanted to be careful with your wording. Your feelings are complicated when it comes to the Collective and you don't need Adler catching it and using it. He did though.

Based on how his lips almost seemed to curl.

"Seems you had nice caring friends, Bell. The homicidal friendly aura's grew on you?"

Your eyes narrowed, anger rising.

"I don't expect you to understand!" You thought of what Perseus did for you, with the televisions. How patient he was. You thought of Stitch, his protectiveness when it came to your medicine in needle form and wouldn't let anyone get too close to hold you all of a sudden where you felt like you would choke. Your eyes grew teary. "You—you out of all people wouldn't. What they do, their plans—all of it—it's horrible. I know that! But. . .they were kind to me. Even after everything I did for you, they didn't care. They just wanted to help me—"

"To use you." Adler cut in firmly. "You're a genius, Bell. You got some talent to have the skill set you have—but your coding is where you always shined. They were manipulating you—"

"They weren't!" You refuse to hear this. How dare he say this anyways?! "And don't speak like you weren't above that either! Pot calling the kettle black much, Adler?!"

"I know what I am." Adler stated quietly, eyes cool. "Just like you do. But do you know what they are? They don't care about anyone—just using others for their sick ideology. You're going to defend them?"

"I'm not defending them!" You shouted, aghast. It's like everything you're saying is going one ear and out the other. Adler doesn't think straight when it comes to Perseus. It's mind boggling. "They helped me with MK-Ultra, what you did. Do you know how long it took me to get a full night's rest? How long it still takes? I have your memories of Vietnam. I have memories of needles and televisions and being in the lab. Memories of you making me go through those scenarios over and over and over again. I felt like sometimes I saw you everywhere, even awake. They comforted me and took away any triggers for me and they were there when you—" you cut yourself off sharply, biting your lip and looking away.

It was silent for a few moments. You didn't look at Adler when you slowly began again, you wonder if he could even hear you with how softly you spoke.

"Perseus took away any televisions. And if there were, he would leave them on so I wouldn't. . .wouldn't see anything. He didn't push me to work, this was after almost or basically a year passed with them. And it's because someone else needed my help. He said I didn't have to do more. Stitch too. Stitch made sure about needles and people not getting close. They. . .I don't remember anything. I don't remember my family. Which is why. . . the safehouse. . ." You bit your lip, than continued. "Perseus I think is the closest father I will ever get. And Stitch. . . Stitch. . ." You trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Adler though, as always, read you easily.

"He loved you." Your eyes closed, your lips pressing into a frown as Adler nodded over in the direction of Stitch's body, you barely hearing his mutter that it explained a few things which made your frown deepen. Did Stitch mention something when he had Adler in Laos? "And you killed him. Did you?"

Does it matter? You wanted to ask, but instead your eyes opened in a half lidded state as you answered tiredly.

"Trust is about control. I remembered."

You didn't want to, but you did. Or rather, you just chose to. You used Stitch's feelings for your own selfish reasons. To get you here.

Adler's eyes seemed to turn unreadable as he tilted his head slightly at you.

"So you understand."

"What?"

Adler stared at you a moment more before breaking his gaze to the side and staying annoyingly silent. Appearing in thought as the silence stretched and the breeze blew by you due to the height you were at. You taking slow breaths as you clenched a fist on your knee before narrowing your gaze at Adler.

"Don't torture me with this silence. Do it."

Adler arched a brow slightly at you as he craned his neck back up to where you were at.

"Do what?"

"Kill me. Finish the job. Tie up the loose end. Just hurry up with it, before Hudson comes."

Adler rose both his brows at you.

"Why would I do that? You have the most information about Perseus now. About who could be the next one. The people. The next possible plans. Everything. It'd be a waste."

He won't stop. Even with him dead.

You felt yourself pale.

"Are you going to torture me?"

"Will I have to?"

You briefly contemplated jumping off the tree. It would be quick. Quicker than anything you've gotten. You always seemed to bleed slow or be suffocated slowly. You never got it easy. The jump and fading to black would probably be the easiest thing you will ever have.

"You're a survivor. You've always been."

You steeled your expression and Adler spotted it, seeing you slowly go down the tree and he put his pistol away when you landed in front of him. His arms by his sides like yours and you having to slightly crane your neck up to meet his gaze. Your eyes remained connected before his moved and roved over your form. You doing the same now that you were closer.

He still smells like cigarettes, you think fondly and saw all the cuts upon him. How ragged he looked, and how the beard just added to it. So different from how you always saw him, sleek and clean. The hair is still distracting.

Your thoughts halted when Adler reached a hand and ripped out the patch on your shoulder with the Perseus symbol, him glaring at it before throwing it away. It landing on the ground a few feet away from them as you looked at Adler with brows slightly pinched together. He took another look at you and gave you an imperceptible nod, his lips pressed in approval before he shifted his stance and put more pressure on one leg.

Is he injured? You took a closer look at him, spotting his tired eyes before spotting a paler spot in his temple when his hair moved before looking at his arms and noticing a pale spot as well as a spot where it looked he got pricked by his veins. Your brows went up. He's freshly deprogrammed. And he came here immediately. Is he insane?

Yes. He is.

But you're no better.

"Why did you do this, Bell?" You blinked from your thoughts, noting that Adler is trying to read you as his eyes squinted more from the sun than anything else. "All of it. Why?"

You feel like he knows.

How far you go for loyalty is no secret.

The bastard just wants you to say it.

You leaned back against the tree, crossing your arms and looking to the side towards the tall trees, the direction of the grave site and a body. You thought of breaks outside the safehouse, of clouds of smoke and talks of philosophy and books. Of curious tilts to the head that makes honey hair shift and the relaxed quirk of the lips as he would listen to you. You pointing at a passage of a book and him leaning over your shoulder to see what makes you passionate, your hair rising when you would feel his breath on you and his scent of nicotine and woody cologne overpower your senses. You thought of after Volkov, him going over your injuries and his fingers grazing a bruise on your temple to your cheek as you felt your breath escape you while he just did the action like it was nothing with that nonchalant expression of his, feeling as if his eyes behind his shades were burning. You thought of amused tones and languid body language when he would tease about your pictures and you're wasting film but he'd let you anyways. Making sure to always tell you to get his good side if you were going to take some of him.

You thought of your head free from your beanie/ski mask for once, his hand over it and fingers almost carding your hair due to a job well done.

"Same reason I said Solovetsky."

You felt Adler's gaze on you intensify, but you kept your gaze away and down as you clenched your hands under your crossed arms.

"Try again," he said, making you throw him a confused look. Your confusion growing when you spotted his scarred lips twitched upward in amusement and eyes almost seeming to soften. "Anyone ever told you, you have bad taste in men?" Your jaw dropped, cheeks pricking as you stared mortified and his lips lifted more before straightening and taking a step towards you. "You need a better reason than that. Try again." He implored calmly as he eyed you.

You clicked your jaw shut, still keeping your arms crossed tightly to you as you moved your head against the tree to the side. Before looking back up at him and putting your arms back to your sides.

"Obviously it's because it's not right to kill millions. In any way."

Adler nodded at you, moving to grab your sniper and putting the strap over himself before turning back towards you as you watched him go back to your side.

"Make sure you say that to everyone. Especially Hudson."

He started walking back to where the grave site was, you hesitantly doing the same as you tried to catch his eyes again but he kept his gaze forward and seemed to be in thought.

"You're really not going to kill me?" You stated more than questioned, not knowing what to think.

He threw you a side glance, noticing your unease.

"I told you, kid," he said, looking away with gaze and tone distant. "It'd be a waste." You didn't know what to say in reply, only staring at Adler in hopes his expression can perhaps give away something. Besides appearing in thought and tired yet still have this focused air around him. There's something you're missing. What happened to him? Did the brainwashing to him actually open his eyes? Or. . . Did he see things like you did during the deprogramming? "You're going to follow my lead. I'm sticking my neck out for you so make sure you play along."

"Why?"

You recognized they were getting closer to the grave site, but you kept your gaze on Adler who hummed distractingly.

"Along the same reasoning as you."

Your mouth parted but they arrived at the grave site, Adler putting a tight hand on the tombstone with jaw tight as you crouched to where Stitch's body laid. Throat tight as you stared at his corpse and the blood upon the ground. You made it quick. You made sure. You wonder if Stitch had an inkling and that's why Naga was here too.

He's with Perseus now. The thought made your lips form into a ghost of a melancholic dry smile. No. That's not right.

You closed Stitch's eyes with your fingerless gloved hands, feeling the coolness already from his body. You heard Adler step behind you.

"Did you know?" At your silence, keeping your eyes on Stitch and the hole on his hood and his head, he continued lowly. "What Stitch did to me. You knew?"

"I only knew afterwards," you say, standing up and turning towards him only to see that he was quite close to you and we're almost chest to chest with him as he stared at you. You kept your ground as you swallowed lightly. "Like I said, they wanted me mostly focusing on other things."

Adler snorted humorlessly, turning his gaze to Stitch's corpse with a narrowing of his icy eyes.

"You can say it. It was karma for what I did to you. You probably thought it was funny." His face shifted, eyes darkening as his jaw ticked. "I know I would've."

"You shouldn't have fallen for the trap," you say instead of directly answering whether he was right or wrong, face disapproving. "Even without deciphering my message about Nova 6, you shouldn't have taken a light team. You knew what would happen."

Like you, Adler avoided to answer. Which was an answer in itself as you sighed, putting a hand to your face as Adler's eyes turned back towards you. You seeing Adler turning his head over his shoulder towards the grave site and staring at it.

"Did he suffer?"

You stared through your fingers at the grave site, biting your lip as you thought of medicine after medicine being pushed through the older man's body. How pale he looked. How skinny. Where his speech was more like rasps and breaths.

You nodded. Adler giving a strong nod of his own, eyes vicious at the grave and satisfied.

"Good."

He turned his head back towards you, noting you seeming to bite your tongue as his hands clenched before turning his back towards you and staring at the grave, shoulders appearing drooped. You deciding to join by his side, arms brushing when you reached him before pulling it back to not touch and just stare at the grave site.

You wish they put his name but you understood why Stitch and the others decided to not. People would desecrate it. And it's fitting Perseus at least had his favorite flower on it, the symbol of the flower looking harsh and not as beautiful as the real thing could be but still able to capture one's eyes to look at the pattern.

". . . I saw you too."

What? Your eyes darted towards Adler, side eyeing him as he spoke lowly. His eyes were staring at your hands between you two, his pistol long put back in its holster on his leg. Saw? Wait. . .did he also. . .? You noticed the holster was in the same area as it was on the cliff. As it should, it was his dominant side. But you thought of the cliffs anyways. Nonetheless, your expression was one of bewilderment as his eyes didn't stray. You spotted his lips twitch before he rose his eyes and connected to yours, your breath hitching at your throat when he threw you a soft smirk.

"I dreamed of you too, Bell." You inhaled sharply, eyes widening before Adler's expression settled as well as yours as your head farted to sounds ahead. Adler went in front of you, his form able to cover you from who was coming. "Stay behind me. And follow my lead." He lowly commanded and you followed.

You heard Hudson, Woods, and Mason come up. Seeing Stitch's body and Hudson saying they were wondering what was taking so long. They didn't even hear his shot. Woods saying that at least the fucker is dead with Mason adding that there's few things that's better than killing the ones who fucked your head.

Not the right words right now, Mason. You thought, cringing internally. But Adler spoke for you.

"It wasn't me."

The others threw him various looks of confusion.

"What the fuck you mean it wasn't you?" Woods questioned. "He has a hole in his head, doesn't he?"

"If it wasn't you," Hudson asked, always focused and getting the bottom of things, "who was it?"

"Adler," Mason called, voice tense as he brought his gun slightly up. "Who's behind you?"

You didn't move. But Adler slightly did to show you to them, hand moving back behind him to keep on your waist just in case.

"Wha—?! Bell?!" Woods gasped, almost dropping his gun from shock as Mason's own eyes widened.

"You're alive. . ."

You threw them a shaky smile and a wave, before dropping both when you could spot Hudson's tense form.

"Adler," Hudson toned lowly, dangerously and making you subconsciously grab Adler's shoulder to help ground you just as Adler gave your waist a comforting squeeze as you stayed behind. "What is the meaning of this? You said you fucking handled her in Solovetsky but she's breathing and moving to me. She's dangerous."

You don't miss Hudson's attitude towards you. Even though you're aware of why he had it before. You still find it distasteful.

"To others maybe," Adler replied steadily, but there was a hidden coiled tone underneath as he kept his face unreadable as possible without his shades. "I did say she was the one that killed Stitch. Why do you think that is?"

Adler didn't wait for Hudson's probable scathing retort, based on how his face seemed to morph into a scowl, moving to explain he thought it a waste to throw someone of Bell's talents away. So they both formed a plan, Adler did shoot you but not fatally, and allowed you to go back to Perseus to spy on them for him. At this, Hudson stepped up to Adler. Adler straightening his shoulders and letting you go as Hudson got into his face.

"You gave her back to Perseus. . .?! Were you fucking insane?! I didn't give you leave on this, Russ—no one did!"

"This is fucking crazy. . ." Mason let out, still looking at you as well as Woods and holding onto their weapons but they were pointed down this time.

Woods huffed, scratching at his beard and looking at you with an expression that almost looked like one of pity as Hudson kept going but Adler kept his frigid stare on the man.

"She knows fucking everything. She could've relayed information to Perseus and the rest while she, what—let you get kidnapped and brainwashed as a gotcha?!"

"I didn't know about that," you spoke up, almost wishing you hadn't when Hudson and all his rage went to you and almost seeming to burn brighter when he looked at you. Adler kept his stare on Hudson but you spot his lips pressed in disapproval. "But I did warn him about everything else. I sent coded messages throughout my time there. How do you think you got that message about coming to these specific coordinates?" Hudson's hard stare didn't lessen but his brows did furrow. "I warned him beforehand about the mall and Nova 6 being a distraction but they weren't able to decipher it—but I know other locations and objectives that Perseus planned and was able to tell you and the ones you were able to decipher, you went towards them. I made sure I found as much information as I could but I kept anything else I learned during my time you guys to myself. And don't blame Adler. It was my idea."

Hudson switched his gaze back towards Adler, Adler throwing a look at you over his shoulder but you didn't falter.

"And you decided to accept this, why?"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Hudson, would you calm down?!" Woods put a hand to Hudson's tense shoulder. "You heard her. All those missions we did was because of messages we couldn't figure out from who, right? It was Bell!"

Mason stepped up, giving you a small nod in greeting which you gave back.

"It does check out. All the messages about the prison transport in Miami and even the attacks on a NATO base in Germany last year as well as everything else we got always was right. Who knows what other codes we weren't able to get because of Bell's unique skill at coding?"

"That doesn't excuse it and you know it." Hudson stated coldly, not keeping his eyes off Adler as your once handler kept the the man's stare even through his black shades. "You kept this information to yourself all this time and chose to not report it at all. Not even Black, I imagine. And you indulged an asset's idea."

"Ignore her. It was my idea. And like I said," Adler said lowly, quietly where you had to strain your ears to hear as his eyes were hard. "I don't like wasting talent. She's the best fucking coder I've ever seen and you know it, Hudson. She isn't just an asset. Not anymore. She's one of us."

"You're still one of us."

You whipped your eyes towards Adler as Hudson continued talking about something or other with Adler continuing to have your back and defending you, continuing the cover he made and you reinforcing it. You released a small smile, the tension in your shoulders releasing. Seeing that Adler is going to stick with what he said, he's not going to kill you. And it seems he won't let anyone else either. The conversation moved to Perseus, Hudson questioning if Adler was able to get answers from Stitch before you shot him.

Adler scowled.

"Perseus is dead. Look behind you."

The three men looked at the tombstone, you confirming without them asking that it's true. The Perseus Adler has been chasing died last year from cancer, and Stitch was the new one. Now another one will come along.

"You happen to know who, Bell?" Mason asked and you shrugged slightly, turning your gaze back towards the trees and your position earlier.

"I think it was Naga." You heard Adler almost growl the name to himself as you continued. "He was with us as a backup but I handled him before I got, Stitch. I feel like. . . they had an inkling about me. . . Doesn't matter now. Naga was close to Stitch when it came to the work—the next Perseus could be anybody."

"You have a better idea than us," Woods stated, rolling his shoulder slightly as he looked around before scrunching his nose when his eyes moved back to the grave site. "But you can tell us later. Let's get out of here. I've been here too long already."

All of you began to move, you stepping up to Adler's side but Hudson stopped both of you by getting in your paths.

"Don't think this is over." Hudson moved his sharp gaze between you and Adler, jaw tight at Adler's apathetic expression. "You both have a lot of interrogation to do when we get back. Black is going to hear of this."

"I imagine he will," Adler replied casually, Hudson giving the man another look before throwing you one of severe judgement and turning away. You released a breath when the man was far away enough you didn't feel like he could hear you, tension leaving your body only to blink when you felt a touch on your head. You looking at Adler who had his brow up a modicum. "I'm trying to keep you alive. I'll take the hit, Bell. Don't worry about it."

Adler released you, stepping away and going back towards the helicopter with one more lingering glance towards the tombstone as you moved to his side.

"But—"

Adler turned his head towards you, cutting you off with a look.

"I said I got it. Try to rest on our way to the safehouse we have here, it'll be a long ride."

You feel like any lingering questions you may have is for later too. Everything that's happened since they were apart will be spoken about one way or another. All the actions, thoughts. . . maybe even emotions.

"I dreamed of you."

Later, you decide, getting on the helicopter with Adler's help and you sitting next to him. Exhaustion hitting you immediately, from guarding in the tree for the longest, to the emotions you couldn't help but feel when you shot Stitch, to the ones you felt when you spoke with Adler and just everything that's happened to you since that day on the cliffs. And the reason why. Loyalty. I really am dangerous.

You fell victim to your exhaustion, head slumping over to Adler's shoulder despite the noise of the chopper and him letting you when he glanced at your peaceful expression. Giving you a once over that you were strapped on tightly, pointedly ignoring three different gazes on him as he adjusted you more to his shoulder with his hand so you'd be more comfortable. The least he could do.

Adler thought of hallucinations that kept him sane in Laos, of dreams that could never be and nightmares that plagued him, of being inside his own mind while being deprogrammed and who he saw to help him guide him out.

It's the least he could do. After everything he's done.

Besides, Adler thought darkly as he took another glance at you and your sleeping face, there's still Perseus to be dealt with. I'll fucking rip them from the root.

One thing is for certain for the two of you, it's how obsessive the two of you are.

After you awoke and gave report along with Adler to Hudson in the safehouse, and glances being shared between you two or stray touches but nothing further than that the next two days before you shared that they had to go to the WWII bunker in Verdansk due to important information being there that the Collective wanted—Adler nodded.

"Alright, Bell. Like old times. You're with me."

You huffed out your nose at the words but nodded anyways with a grim smile.

"Always, sir."

Onto the next mission.

.

.

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A/N: Sorry if this feels rushed, it wasn't even supposed to be this long. And sorry about the no kiss! Didn't think it would fit. Bell and Adler need more time for a relationship but I'm sure I planted enough seeds for you guys to fill in the lines yourselves that these two are both insane and obsessed—thankfully in Adler's case—for each other. (He needs other obsessions. To be healthy. Or healthier.)

Maybe I'll visit this universe again. Depends what they will do with Vanguard since they merged Adler, Woods, Mason, and Hudson into it somehow 💀

I had more of a fun time writing Perseus and Stitch than I thought. With the recent S6 trailer, my interest with Stitch grew exponentially. I can now see what everyone goes on about with him. That Outro revealed a lot to me about that man. Too bad he's gone now. :/ And Perseus is nice to write too 💗 This was really fun!

Hope you guys enjoyed! 💗

Tags: lustandaffections salmonpls xxSoULEvAns Natashaxalden nukelord SnowGoldWaylon ingoadler just_a_f4ngirl yourloverfromhell svankmo