I looked down the scope, the crosshairs steady against the target. I took a deep breath, feeling the wind whip through my thick hair, pushing strands against my face. The metal of the rifle felt both soft and delicate in my hands, as if it demanded respect, a tool not to be messed with. I adjusted my grip and steadied my aim. My finger hovered over the trigger, nerves and focus battling it out inside me. With a final exhale, I squeezed the trigger.

Bang.

"Fucking hell. Hit it right in the centre," I muttered under my breath, watching as the target splintered into pieces. I quickly cocked the bolt back and slid another round into the chamber, eyes never leaving the scope.

Frank, standing beside me, let out a hearty laugh and slapped me on the back with a light thump. "You're really back in form, Bell," he grinned, a teasing spark in his eyes.

I grinned back, a bit of confidence slipping into my tone. "What can I say, Woods? I'm a specialist." I gave him a wink, then refocused on the target, resetting myself.

"Don't get cocky, Bell," Frank said with a half-smirk. "Only I'm allowed to do that."

I chuckled. "Fucking A," I replied, and then fired another shot. This time, the wood of the board exploded into tiny splinters, the bullet finding its mark effortlessly. I cycled the bolt again, watching the round disappear into the dusty earth as I prepared for the next shot.

"Getting the groove back, I see," Mason's voice caught me off guard. He'd stepped up behind me silently while I was focused on the rifle. His smile was wide, almost proud, and it said everything I needed to know—he had been watching, and he knew what it meant.

I set the Tundra rifle back down carefully, the weight of it grounding me. For the first time in what felt like a long time, I felt that old rhythm return. The groove I thought I'd lost was back, and with it, a rush of confidence. Maybe I wasn't as far gone as I'd feared.

Adler had assigned someone to Mason to help him with the numbers and the constant PTSD. It seemed to be making a difference. The night terrors had become a rare occurrence, only happening once a month now, and his spaced-out moments had become infrequent. It was a relief to see Mason doing better. The constant, overwhelming red of his mind, the flashbacks and the trauma, seemed to be receding—maybe finally coming to an end. And he was sleeping through the night, which was a small victory in itself. Even the phantom pains he'd suffered from were more manageable now, thanks to the meds. The man had seen and endured more than any of us could fathom, but it seemed like he might finally be finding some peace.

"Working on it," I winked, lifting the stock of the Tundra once more. "A little bit harder than I remember, but I'll get there." I scanned the sniper, inspecting what needed repairs and what I could add onto it to make it just right. It was always like this for me—everything had to be perfect if I was going to rely on it. That's the way it had always been.

"Even flow, boys. Even flow," I muttered as I carefully laid the Tundra back down. It was almost like a ritual, the way I handled my gear. No room for mistakes.

"Badass," Frank said, pulling his bandana tighter as a grin spread across his face. He gave me a nod of approval, and I couldn't help but smile back.

"Thank you," I replied with a nod of my own, lifting the 1911 from the table. The familiar weight felt good in my hands. I cocked it back, slid a new mag into the grip, and then aimed it at the target. Bang—the shot rang out, and I couldn't help but watch the wood splinter into fragments once again.

"Bell," Mason's voice broke through the rhythm of the shots. "Did Hudson talk to you again or anything?"

His expression had shifted into concern as he watched me hit the target a few more times, the wood breaking into pieces with precision. I lowered the gun and wiped my brow before answering. "No, I haven't heard from him in a while. Why?"

Woods sighed, a laugh escaping him that sounded more sarcastic than anything. "We've been waiting on him to check in," he muttered. "The man's got a habit of going dark for way too long."

Mason rolled his eyes, his hands running through his hair in frustration. "Yeah, but we're starting to worry, you know? Hudson's been acting different lately. Just... a little off." He gave me a knowing look. "We should probably check in with him soon. Make sure he's not getting into something he shouldn't."

The unspoken weight of the situation hung in the air. We all knew Hudson had his own demons to deal with, and it wasn't like him to go silent for this long. I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off, either. But right now, there was nothing we could do except wait for him to come to us. And I didn't like that one bit.

"Yeah, I'll keep an ear out," I said, my voice steady, but a knot forming in my stomach. "Kinda expected it from him though."

"The man's been dodgy lately," Mason said, frustration creeping into his voice. His hand gestures were getting more animated, and it was starting to put me on edge. "Answering calls from the president, which is expected, of course," he added, his eyes narrowing. "But it's more than usual. And he won't tell us a damn thing."

I set the pistol down on the table with a soft clink and dragged a metal chair over, swinging my legs around to sit down. I leaned back, taking a long, slow breath. "The man's like trying to get blood out of a stone, Mason. I don't know why you even bother." I fished a cigarette from my pocket and lit it without hesitation. The burn of the smoke hit my throat like needles, but I didn't flinch.

Frank nodded, his expression agreeing with my sentiment. "I agree with you, Bell. There's just no hope we'll get through to him. It's been the same for years." Woods shifted his boot, digging it into the ground, and kicked up a cloud of dust that hung in the air, making the situation feel even heavier.

I took a long drag from the cigarette, exhaling slowly as my mind worked through the problem. Something needed to be done, but Hudson was always a tough one to crack.

"Mason," I snapped my fingers as an idea popped into my head. "I'm sure Russell would know something about it, right? I wouldn't want to pry, obviously, but if Russell didn't know... well, he could ask Hudson. Surely Hudson trusts no one, but Adler comes pretty close."

Mason frowned, rubbing his jaw as he processed what I said. "Hudson trusts nobody," he said, his voice going low and gritty, like he was speaking a hard truth he'd accepted long ago.

I sighed, rubbing my temples in frustration. "I know. Just figured it wouldn't hurt to ask."

The silence stretched out, heavy and uncomfortable, as both of them sat quietly.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about," I muttered, trying to convince myself more than anyone else. My legs were starting to stiffen from sitting too long, so I began to spin my ankles in small circles, the motion helping to ground me. "Right?"

Mason shook his head slowly, his face drawn with concern. "I don't know, Bell. With Hudson, it's always something to worry about."

I took another drag from my cigarette, then passed it over to Mason, who accepted it without a word. Frank followed suit, grabbing it from Mason's hand and taking a long drag. The sigh he let out as he blew the smoke away told me everything. No one liked feeling this uncertain, and none of us liked the feeling that Hudson might be slipping away from us.

The air felt heavy with unspoken worry. Hudson had always been a loose cannon, but now it seemed like something was brewing under the surface. Something none of us could see.

"Okay, how about we go out for drinks tonight at the bar? Nothing too much, not like last time." The thought of last time almost made a knot form in the pit of my stomach. That night had been messy, and I wasn't eager to repeat it.

Mason chuckled, sensing my hesitation. "Sounds good. I've got a few things to take care of first, but I'll meet you guys there tonight."

With that, Frank jumped into the sedan and drove off, leaving Mason and me alone in the quiet of the warehouse. I stretched out my stiff legs as I moved around, and Mason helped me move the Tundra and a few other rifles back into the metal racks. The hum of the quiet warehouse almost felt comforting, but the underlying tension lingered in the air.

"Can I ask you a question?" Mason said, standing with his hands on his hips, his gaze shifting between me and the guns.

"Of course. What's up?" I closed the racks and made my way to the truck, locking the metal shutters behind me with a soft click.

Mason hesitated for a moment before speaking again, his voice slightly teasing but with an edge of genuine curiosity. "Are you and Adler a thing? Last night, you both came in all lovey-dovey."

I felt my cheeks warm as I rolled my eyes at him. "We aren't a thing, yet. Time will tell, Alex." I sighed, placing the 1911 down with a satisfying clink on the rack.

"You told him everything last night, didn't you?"

I nodded, a weight settling in my chest. "I did. All of it."

Mason's expression shifted, and I could hear the shock in his voice. "How did he take that?"

"It knocked him sideways, honestly. But I think he'll be okay. Eventually, he did talk to me about it, but maybe forty - five minutes after I'd actually told him.  We'll just have to see what happens next." I tried to keep my tone light, but I couldn't shake the uncertainty creeping in.

Mason grinned and clapped me on the shoulder. "You two suit each other."

I looked at him, surprised by the compliment. "You think?"

"Definitely," Mason said, his smile widening. "I think he needs someone like you."

I could feel my cheeks flushing even more, my heart beginning to race. There was no denying it now—the feelings I had for Adler were real, and it scared me.

"I like him. A lot," I murmured, my voice soft. "We'll see how things go."

Mason gave me a teasing look, but there was warmth in his eyes. "You two are gonna figure it out."

I climbed into the truck with Mason, the engine starting with a low rumble as I turned the key. The drive to the bar felt different now, the weight of the conversation still hanging in the air like a thick fog.

"What happened last night, anyways?" Mason asked, a huge smirk spreading across his face, followed by a wink of his left eye.

I rolled the window down, letting the breeze from the Berlin sun cool me off a little. It was getting hot in the truck, and I could feel the weight of the day on me.

The night before:

As we sat at the diner, eating and talking about my memories, I could feel the tension easing a little more with each word. Adler's smile seemed to light up the entire space, his eyes soft, constantly watching me as I spoke. It was hard not to be drawn to him, especially when his gaze never wavered.

"I worked a lot on my own," I began, pushing my plate away after finishing my meal. The tension between us was palpable, but somehow, it felt comforting. "I got into messy situations before being sent here for work by someone. They wanted information, and I vowed I would get it for them. So I tried, and ended up on a metal table with amnesia." I grabbed a napkin and dabbed it across my face, feeling the weight of the confession.

Adler's voice was gentle as he responded, "I'm so interested in all of this. Did you say the doctor's name was ruled out in black?" He leaned forward slightly, his eyes never leaving mine. I nodded and cleared my throat, my mind foggy with fragments of memories I still couldn't piece together.

"I wonder if there are documents somewhere that could reveal the doctor's name and location," Adler mused, wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Surely he had a reason for giving you amnesia."

I swallowed hard, my heart pounding a little faster. "I don't know... But that's what we're trying to figure out,"

As I spoke, I couldn't help but steal another glance at Adler. The way the yellow streetlights filtered through the diner windows, casting a warm glow on his face, made him look almost ethereal. His scars, like marks of battle, seemed to tell a story of their own—hard-earned, and yet somehow beautiful in their own way. There was something about him, something that pulled me in deeper. And even though the night was falling, the energy between us felt like it was just beginning to rise.

"There is a reason, but I don't know what it is. Have you and Hudson found any leads on Stitch?" I asked, hoping for a positive answer. My stomach twisted at the thought of Stitch still out there, free, and capable of anything.

Adler's face shifted, a worried look crossing his features. "We don't know. We lost track of the pings a few days ago," he said, his voice tight. Panic rose in my chest, and I had to force myself to stay calm. My mind raced, spiralling into dark thoughts, but I pushed them aside. I needed to be in control.

I took a deep breath, trying to steady my nerves, and then grabbed my soda, taking a sip to calm the sudden ache in my throat.

"It's nothing to worry about," Adler added, trying to reassure me. "We've got people working around the clock to get a ping on them again. Don't worry, Bell. All is going to be okay."

I wasn't sure I believed him, but I didn't want to admit that. Instead, I let the silence settle between us, letting the hum of the diner fill the gap. But then, without thinking, the memory of my departure from Adler came crashing into my mind.

"When I left," I started, my voice unsteady, "he told me he'd kill me. I don't want that. The man's a lunatic."

Adler's eyes darkened at my words, his jaw clenched tightly. "We won't let that happen," he said with a fierce determination in his voice. "I'm not losing you, Bell."

I looked at him, his words sinking in deeper than I expected. The protective tone in his voice, the raw honesty in his eyes... it made me believe him. Maybe it wasn't just about the mission anymore. Maybe he was saying something more.

"I trust you," I murmured, a small smile pulling at the corners of my lips. For a moment, everything felt a little bit lighter when he spoke those words.

The night stretched on, the cool air settling around us as we sat at a small table outside the quiet bar. Adler had a glass of scotch in front of him, while I nursed a half glass of red wine, feeling the warmth of the alcohol slowly settle into my chest. It was one of those rare, peaceful nights where the world seemed to slow down, and everything felt right.

"I'm getting better again," I said with a smile, taking a sip of wine. "It's giving me life." I laughed softly between the cup on my lips and the cool breeze brushing through my hair.

Adler smirked, his eyes glinting in the dim light. "Frank told me you've been beating the shit out of him in the competitions."

I couldn't help but chuckle at the thought. Frank and I often got too cocky, challenging each other to competitions on who could hit the target the most. I'd beat him every time except for once, and that look of mock disappointment he'd give me when he lost was enough to make anyone laugh. But no, his puppy eyes never worked on me.

I giggled to myself and took another sip of wine. Adler shot me a knowing smile, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"I can't get over you tonight," he said, his voice low, with that soft, almost teasing tone.

I raised an eyebrow, unsure of where he was going with it, and stared at the smirk playing on his lips. His eyebrow raised back, mimicking the face I had made, and I couldn't help but laugh at how easy it was to be comfortable with him.

"What do you mean?" I asked, completely clueless, but genuinely curious.

I set my wine glass down, my fingers tracing the golden rim of his sunglasses resting on the table. Adler leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving mine. His voice was softer now, more sincere.

"You're beautiful," he said with a hint of admiration in his voice. "Hell, one of a kind."

The words sent a rush of warmth to my cheeks, and I couldn't stop the huge grin that spread across my face. I felt my heart race a little faster, the red creeping up on my face as I tried to keep it cool.

Adler didn't seem to mind, though. He didn't flinch, just held my gaze, and the moonlight highlighted the sharp edges of his scars, the stubble darkening his jawline. He was beautiful in his own way—raw, unfiltered, and unapologetically himself.

His jacket hung over the back of the chair, forgotten for the moment, as the humidity of the evening made the air feel thick. His hair was still perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, and I couldn't help but feel a sense of awe, even after everything we'd been through.

I took another sip of wine, letting the last bit of it slip down my throat, feeling the warm flush in my chest linger long after the words had been said. For a moment, everything felt perfect, and I didn't want it to end.

"Why, thank you," I replied, my voice soft but sincere. I paused for a moment, taking in the warmth of the evening and the way his thumb was gently drawing circles on my hand. My heart seemed to beat a little faster, the simple gesture sending a wave of warmth through me. I smiled at him, unable to hide how much his touch meant.

Adler's gaze softened as he looked at me, and the moment felt almost too perfect. The chatter around us, the clinking of glasses, and the hum of the bar almost faded into the background, leaving just the two of us, wrapped up in something simple but real.

"Also, thank you for helping Mason out. Off-topic, I know, but he seems to be getting better," I said, a little shyly, hoping it didn't take away from the atmosphere we had going.

He finished his drink and set the glass down with a soft clink, then reached for my hand again. His fingers curled around mine, sending a small jolt through me as he gave me a reassuring smile.

"I never knew he was as bad as he was," Adler admitted, his voice low, and there was a flicker of empathy in his eyes. "I appreciate you telling me and helping him. Seriously, Bell, I mean this when I say it: you've got a heart of gold."

My chest swelled at his words, a rush of emotion hitting me like fireworks in my head. I wasn't sure what to say in return, so I just squeezed his hand lightly, feeling his warmth spread through me.

"I've been through hell, Ad," I said quietly, my gaze meeting his. "Last person I want to be like is Stitch. To think I worked with them makes me feel sick." The words came out before I could stop them, a confession of sorts. I wanted to get it off my chest, to share that piece of me that still haunted me.

Adler's expression softened even more, and he leaned in a little closer. "You're with us now, that's all that matters," he said, his voice steady and full of reassurance. He let go of my hand for just a moment as he stood up, taking his coat from the chair with ease.

Then, in one smooth motion, he reached back for my hand, and I felt his warmth envelope me once more. His smile was soft but determined, like he was ready to take on whatever the world had in store for us.

"Now," he said, a playful glint in his eyes, "can I bring you home on this lovely evening?"

My heart fluttered at the idea, the promise of spending more time with him pulling me in. Without hesitation, I nodded, my fingers curling around his. "I'd like that," I whispered.

The night wrapped itself around me like a warm embrace, the Berlin lights shimmering against the inky sky, mixing with the moon and stars to create a moment of peaceful serenity. The heat in the air only added to the feeling of being alive, and Adler's thumb gently tracing circles on my leg kept my heart racing in a way that felt both calming and electrifying.

I turned my head to glance at him, unable to keep my gaze away from the sharp angles of his jawline, the smile playing on his lips as he drove. The world outside seemed to blur as I got lost in the rhythm of the moment, in the warmth of his presence.

"Thank you for tonight, Ad," I said softly, my voice barely above a whisper as I met his eyes, my hand resting lightly on his as it gripped the steering wheel.

"No problem, it was a nice night. I want to do it again sometime, would you want to?" His voice was husky and smooth, sending a shiver through me that curled in my chest. I felt the air between us shift, as if everything around us had slowed down just to let that question hang in the air.

"Of course," I smiled shyly, the corners of my lips pulling up as I placed my hand on top of his, feeling the warmth of his skin, the connection between us growing stronger with each touch.

As we arrived back at the house, I could hear the laughter and easy chatter of Mason and Woods coming from the backyard, where a fire crackled and the scent of burning wood filled the air. The comfort of the familiar sounds settled my nerves, even though part of me wanted to savor the quiet between just Adler and me for a little longer.

Adler's voice broke through my thoughts as he parked the car, his hand still gently holding mine. "Get a good rest, Bell. Thank you for coming tonight." His words were soft but genuine, and I could feel the sincerity in his touch as I pulled myself out of the car. The small ache from the bullet wound still lingered, but it was nothing compared to the warmth of his presence.

He stepped around the car to join me, his hand moving to my waist, pulling me slightly closer. I looked up at him, feeling my heart quicken as he leaned down, his lips brushing mine in a slow, deliberate kiss. It was everything I'd hoped for, and more.

The kiss deepened, and my body responded without thinking. I let my hand roam to the side of his face, fingers tracing the scars that marked his skin. The roughness of them only made him feel more real, more tangible, and my touch followed the ridges of his past as though I could learn more about him through every delicate caress.

The kiss was a quiet promise, one that spoke volumes without words. His hand on my waist tightened, pulling me closer, and I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be.

Every part of him had left an imprint on me, from the way his lips felt against mine to the strength in his touch. The sincerity in his eyes, his humour, his quiet confidence—it all mattered. I couldn't help but smile inwardly as I pulled away, feeling that lingering warmth between us.

I gave him one last look, a smirk tugging at my lips as I turned toward the door.

"Goodnight, Russ," I said softly, my voice playful but sincere, before pressing one last kiss to his lips. The taste of him still lingered, but I knew it was time to go.

Turning on my heel, I made my way to the front door and headed out the back toward Mason and Frank, the firelight flickering ahead. The night was still young, and though a part of me wanted to stay with Adler, I knew there were other moments yet to be shared.

The familiar sound of their laughter and the crackle of the fire welcomed me as I joined them, feeling lighter than I had in a long time.

Present

"You two seem to be on a roll, Bell," Mason said, his voice tinged with light laughter, a grin spreading across his face.

I guided the car back toward the house, a sense of satisfaction bubbling up inside me as I thought about my progress with sniping. Damn, I'd missed it. "I don't know, Mason," I replied, a bit of concern creeping into my voice. "What if I screw it up? I've always been a one-man operation, you know?"

My gaze remained fixed on the road, the asphalt shimmering under the scorching sun. The air was thick with heat, the kind that made everything feel slower and heavier. It was a beautiful day, no doubt, but the temperature was pushing its limits.

The reflection of my sunglasses danced across the sedan's roof, and I noticed how Mason was fumbling over his words more than usual today.

"You'll get the hang of it," he said, voice wavering slightly. "I... I understand, Bell. But you don't need to worry."

I could feel a knot tightening in my chest. Despite his reassurance, I couldn't shake the unease gnawing at me. The news about Stitch's whereabouts—no one knew. That had thrown me off completely, leaving my mind tangled in confusion for the past couple of days.

"Thanks, Mason," I muttered quietly. "I feel like I don't say that enough."

He gave a soft nod, a chuckle escaping him. "You don't need to. We've got your back, always."

The words hung in the air for a moment, and I let myself take them in, allowing a small sense of comfort to settle in my mind. But the uncertainty about Stitch still lingered, stubbornly refusing to be pushed aside.

I glanced over at Mason, appreciating his words. Sometimes, I didn't realize how much I needed to hear them until they were right in front of me. His steady, grounded presence was a comfort, a reminder that no matter how much I doubted myself, I had people who would always have my back.

The road stretched ahead, but the heat of the day made everything feel a bit distorted. The air shimmered as if the world itself was wavering, and I could see the mirage of it all, the dust rising from the asphalt. It was a strange kind of beauty, one that left me in a trance, but also weighed me down a little. The uncertainty with Stitch, the idea that something could be just around the corner waiting, made me restless.

"I'll figure it out," I muttered to myself more than to Mason, but he heard me anyway. I wasn't sure if I was reassuring him or myself.

"You will," he said firmly. "You always do."

I nodded, though my mind wasn't entirely convinced. How could I be, with all the loose ends left to tie up? But Mason's confidence in me felt like a lifeline, and I clung to it as we continued on our way.

"Anyway," he added, his tone shifting, trying to lighten the mood. "If you need anything, you know where to find me. Hell, even Adler, if you're willing to ask him."

I let out a small laugh, the tension slowly starting to melt away. "Thanks, Mason. And don't worry. Adler and I, we're trying to take things slow."

He shot me a teasing grin, the familiar playfulness returning. "Whatever you say, Bell. But don't take too long, alright? He looks at you like he's about to bite someone's head off. if they go near you."

I rolled my eyes but couldn't suppress the smile that tugged at my lips. "He does have that effect on people."

Mason chuckled, and the car seemed to feel a little lighter as we drove on. Maybe everything wouldn't be perfect, but with each moment, with each word, things were starting to feel like they might be alright after all.