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animefreak1145 · 3 years

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What Could Never Be (Adler x Bell!Reader x Stitch)

Sequel

Summary: You’re a sniper hidden in the trees meters away from the meeting of Stitch and Adler in front of the grave.

It’s time you choose.

Warnings/Tags: Trauma, Recovery from Trauma, Mental Anguish, Brainwashing, Manipulation, Major Character Death, Post!Solovetsky, Post-Canon, Bell!Lives, Implied Sexual Content, COD:BOCW Season 6 Outro Spoilers

Words: 9.1k

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 darted 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.

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!

Tell me if you wish to be tagged or not to be tagged for all my works.

Tags: @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @tr1ppylady @gojocat247 @aurora-windu @holy-crap-i-am-russell-adler @mayaibnlaahad @asaltryefl @writer-of-various @zulema117-blog @stupid-stinky @darlingor @zombiequeennxx @salvija

#russell adler #call of duty #black ops cold war #cod #cod cold war #call of duty cold war #cod bell #vikhor kuzmin #vikhor stitch kuzmin #perseus cod #frank woods #alex mason #jason hudson #russell adler x bell #vikhor kuzmin x bell #cod fanfiction

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onlycodcanjudgeme · 2 years

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Fic Exchange Friday

Over the past week, you’ve sent us your highlights of fics to show off, and looked forward to reading and reviewing new fics buried deep in the pile of the Cal of Duty fanfic archives. And we have made it our mission to collect and compile them all for your convenience. Now—the moment you have all been waiting for!

Drumroll… 🥁 🪘

The Big Fic Exchange Friday!

available to you by OnlyCODCanJudgeMe

Thank you to everyone who participated in this experimental event! We hope you'll find some new fics to fall in love with, and we’d love to hear if you’re interested in seeing this event again in the future!

Without further ado: please enjoy our masterlist of fanfics galore!

@alidravana

Wednesday Pick Me Up — When the Green Team takes over running the coffee canteen at the Santa Monica base, a particular blonde barista catches Keegan’s eye…and maybe his heart. We Break So Beautiful — An exploration of the importance of touch in Mitchell's and Gideon's continuously evolving relationship. Partners in Crime — AKA 3+1 times Logan was completely oblivious, and the one time even he couldn’t miss the signs in front of him. Waiting on that Morning Sun — While Keegan lays wide awake at night, Logan wrapped around him like a cuddly octopus, he reflects on the changes in his life since Logan Walker appeared in it. The Sky Burns Red — Against all odds, Roach and Ghost make it out of the pit.

@mikk1n

The Plagued Capital — After his death in Prague, Soap MacTavish wakes up in a city both alien and familiar. He stumbles across a pub and a conspiracy. Watered Elixir — Plague breaks out on a ship bound for Karnaca. As luck would have it, Makarov falls ill.

@samatedeansbroccoli

Scale of Fear — Verdansk saw a dragon, but Woods only saw a man in pain. Dragon!Adler x Woods. Shabbat Meal — Having taken up a job as a Death Row cook, Lazar talks to Sims about the past. Tili Tili Bom — After Solovetsky, Belikov ensures Bell gets the best care away from prying CIA eyes. Belikov/Bell if you squint. Together — When the odds are stacked against him, Édouard Conteau finds an unlikely ally to help him out. Ghost/Templar if you squint.

@samithemunchkin

I had a thousand bad times, so what’s another time to me? — Mitchell knew, deep down, that in his situation none of that mattered. He was about as unfit for duty as a toddler. Or, the beginning of fics following Mitchell and Gideon's life after the fall of Atlas

@satan-incarnate-666

Fall Into the Sky — A set of angsty Modern Warfare Two oneshots!! i can't believe how far we have come — A feel-good 141-shot (get it? im hilarious really) with lots of found family fun!! I'm Almost Me Again, She's Almost You — Mason/Woods post-Black Ops One angst ft. baby David and Mrs. Mason!! Hold On, My Dear, I'm Coming Home — Post-canon hurt/comfort for the Modern Warfare 2019 ensemble!! Heaven And Hell Were Words To Me — MW2 But They're A Bunch Of Immortals au!! Features Ghost/Roach/Soap; Currently on hiatus but I'm writing for it again!!

@tokillamockingbird427

Placeholder — A "What if..?" scenario set in the COD: Ghosts universe where Rorke, the antagonist of the cannon uni, and Elias, the protagonist's father, are swapped. Results in many interesting and tear jerking hijinks. (The "What if..?" being: "What if Elias was the one to fall instead of Rorke?").

@weavergrigori

Operation Greenlight, Redlight — Takes place after the duga ending, in a timeline where things can somehow get far worse than just nukes in europe. It's heavily zombies focused but has a strong link to the bo1 and bocw campaign !

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senfena · 2 years

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Cold War: Remedy, Chapter 14

A/N: Uuuhh sorry for being gone so long. I'll try not to let it happen again. In other news, here's the chapter where I found out I'm not that great at writing combat ;w;

February 19, 1981

05:00 A.M.

Every sensation in your body kick-started as you jolted awake, screaming, shooting your torso forward to sit upright as you flailed your arms. Looking around, you found yourself in a small, sterile room, with a red door to your left, dressed in a medical gown. How the hell did you get here? And where was here? Okay, okay, panicking was going to do you no good. Your breathing slowed as you tried to calm yourself down, simply take everything in. Turning your view down your left arm, a needle was stuck inside it that led to an IV bag. You went to go pull it out when suddenly, the door swung open, and in rushed a blonde man, middle aged, with sunglasses and a brown leather jacket.

You instinctively pulled back in fear. "Wh…who are y-" "It's okay, Bell, it's just me. It's Adler." He interrupted as he slowly moved towards you with his hands up. Adler? Oh, of course. Adler, your old friend. You've known each other for years. Fought together. Bled together. Been through the hell of Vietnam together. "Adler?" You frettingly looked to him, staring into his deep blue eyes. "Yeah, kid, it's me. I'm here." He placed his hand on top of yours. You instantly felt soothed by his presence.

"Wh..what happened? Where are we?" You questioned, never breaking eye contact. "You're in a hospital, Bell. That fall took you out of commission for a while, but you're alright now. If you can't remember much right now, that's okay, it'll all come back." You slowly nodded along. This was a lot to take in, but just knowing Adler was there for you kept you calm. "And you're back just in time too." He continued. "You remember Perseus? That soviet operative we were hunting in Da Nang? He's active again, and he's planning something big. He's gonna do a lot of damage, hurt a lot of innocent people, if we don't stop him." Perseus, that's right. The CIA's analysts consider him to be the single largest threat to the free world. That scared you a little. Were you really capable enough to stop him?

You hoped you weren't showing your fear on your face, but Adler must've picked up on it. Somehow your eye contact got even more intense as he leaned in ever so slightly closer to you. "We have a job to do." As he said that, every ounce of stress, fear, and anxiety was simply washed away, replaced only by a powerful sense of purpose. You and Adler, the ultimate team, ready to do your job to save the world better than anybody else ever could. "Let's do it." You beamed up at him as you slid your feet off of the bed, standing up with a slight stumble. That fall must've really hurt, it was still a bit painful to walk. "Here, lean on me." Adler offered as he swung your right arm over his shoulders. You both trudged out of the room, with a wide grin on your face, ready for anything.

___________

June 8, 1984

11:31 A.M.

"I don't get it. What the hell did they want at Yamantau, and why blow it up afterwards?" You quizzed Park, not shifting your eyes away from the satellite photos of the destroyed base pinned to the board. "We're not entirely sure what they wanted there, but the theory is that they intended to make it look like we destroyed it, prompting blame from the Soviet government." That got you to turn your head. "Did it work?" "As far as we can tell, no. If they never said anything about what happened in '81, or '68 for that matter, it's not likely they will this time." You smirked, glad that something was going your way after nearly two months of nothing.

"At least one of them has the decency to show us his face this time around." You muttered, inching closer to the board, eyes focused on a security camera picture of a caucasian man in heavy armor, with brown eyes and a full beard. "Do we have an identity?" You called back to Park. "Roman Gray, otherwise known as Knight." She began to debrief you. "Born in Ireland in '37, enlisted in the Irish army at 18, but in '63 he was dishonorably discharged. He was recruited by MI6 in '65, and four years ago, they also dismissed him. In both cases, due to rash, violent, and impulsive behavior." You paced in a circle as you took it all in. "Hm…and now it sounds like he's on some 'mighty revenge crusade.'"

As you mocked him, your view shifted to another photograph. A girl with a bodysuit and a half face mask, blonde hair shaved at the sides with the rest of it pulled back and tied into a braid. Something about her entranced you, as you inched up to fill your view with her photo, raking your eye over every detail, again and again. "What about her?" You quizzed Park. "Freya Helvig, known as Wraith. Born in Norway in 1952. In '78 she joined the NIS, only to leave them in '81 for Perseus." She disclosed, then paused for a moment.

"What is it?" She took note of your intense interest, coming up to stand next to you. Good question, what was it about her? "I dunno…I guess...I guess she's kinda cute." You turned back to Park. Her only response was a cocked eyebrow, paired with a wild smirk. "I-I mean in a 'supervillain who wants to destroy the world' kind of way." Her grin only grew as you sputtered out your cheap justifications, sitting back down.

Shaking it off, you turned around to sit at the table, across from Park. "Something else that's confusing me." You uttered. "Verdansk is right at the base of the mountain, why put a giant red flag over your position like that? I mean, we know that Adler's there, but they don't know we know that." Park gazed off, losing herself to thought. "At least, I don't think they do." You tacked on quietly. It was quiet for a few moments longer. "Acceptable risk on their part?" She finally offered. If that was the case, that didn't imply good things for Adler or the rest of you.

"I just wish we had something concrete." You bemoaned as you puffed out an exaggerated exhale. "Ask and you shall receive!" Sims called over to both of you, striding into the main room alongside Hudson and Woods. "We got him." Woods announced triumphantly, grinning at you as they began taking files and documents from a case book, pinning them to the board. They found him? For real this time? All of your senses went to full alert as you stood back up.

As they finished organizing the board, Sims and Woods backed away from it as Hudson turned to face all of you. “As Woods said, we believe we have confirmation on Adler’s location.” Hudson started. “Stitch is holding him in the hospital in Verdansk. That's the good news. Trouble is, we don’t know where in the building exactly.” “I’m c-” Yes, Bell, I’m permitting you to go.” He shot down your interruption. “Not that I could stop you if I tried.” He muttered, prompting a smirky huff from you.

“Park, Sims, you’re the chopper team, Woods and Bell are the ground team. Our plan is to fly the ground team over the building, fast rope in and infiltrate from the roof, sweep and clear the building until you find him. Chopper team holds position circling the building until the ground team gives the signal for pick up. From there you’ll be touching down at the West Berlin safehouse. We don’t know what condition he’ll be in, and in the worst case scenario bringing him there is better. Any questions?”

“When do we leave?” You immediately spat out. “Six hours. Anything else?” Silence. Hudson nodded. “Pack your bags. Bring our boy home.” You all split off to go get prepared.

As you darted off to your room, your mind was filled with a single thought, looping again and again: "I will save you this time."

___________

June 10, 1984

9:57 P.M.

Having to endure the monotony of the helicopter ride was driving you up the walls. The only noise besides the drone of the engine and the blades slicing the air were the sounds of your M60 as you excessively checked it again and again. Click-thump as you slid the bolt back and forth, fwip as you flicked up the cover, running your finger over all the exposed bullets in the belt, clack as you knocked the cover back down. Click-thump, fwip, clack. Click-thump, fwip, clack. Click-thump, fwip,-"That trigger finger of yours a little itchy, Bell?" Sims quipped, pushing the microphone of his headset closer to his mouth. Clack. "Something like that." You muttered in response. Even with a microphone, you'd be surprised if he heard you.

"Get ready to use it then!" Woods blurted. "We're approaching the hospital!" The chopper slowly drifted to a halt over the roof as Woods yanked open the sliding door. "Standby for greenlight." The pilot instructed, and a moment later the cabin interior light turned green. "Down the rope!" Woods shouted out, grabbing hold and sliding out of view. You weren't a beat behind him, sliding down as quickly as the laws of physics would allow you. The weight of your gun certainly didn't help your ankles in the landing, as you touched down with an audible wince. It didn't matter though. You were down, and Adler was here somewhere.

"Bell, on me. We search room for room, floor by floor, until we find him." Woods commanded as you both hustled over to a locked door that led to the third floor. Kicking it in, you found only a few storage and maintenance items scattered about, and a stairway down to the lower levels, where they kept the patients. You both scampered down in a hurry, punting open the door to the third floor and being met with gunfire not a second later, pulling back before it could touch either of you. "Flash!" You called out, swiftly tossing in a stun grenade and waiting until BANG. The chamber momentarily became infinitely brighter, and as you popped out of cover and started cutting down hostiles, a distant ringing permeated your hearing.

Once all the hostiles had been put down and the ringing had stopped, you and Woods checked all the rooms on the floor. Nothing. And not just no Adler, there was nobody else at all. Sure, Perseus had some reach, but how'd they manage to take over an entire hospital for a city this size? Before you got too far lost in that thought train, you refocused. Adler.

You both made your way back to the staircase and down to the second floor. This time you threw in the flash as you kicked in the door. Good planning on your part, as there were about twice as many shooters on this floor. Still not a problem for you, Woods, and a hundred belt-fed full metal jacket rounds. Searching the floor, there was still no sign of Adler. He had to be on the first floor. Had to be.

Rushing down the staircase to the ground floor, your heart rate began to rise, more from fear than anything else. Breaking down the last stairwell door, strangely there were less gunmen compared to the second floor. They must've been banking on you never getting this far down. Between putting down hostiles, you were frantically searching every room you came across, every corner of the building. Eventually the only section left was the operating rooms in the emergency center. It was down to the last enemy, he was wounded, out of ammo, and out of places to go. Woods grabbed him by the collar, snatching his rifle and tossing it aside. One sidearm bullet to the temple later, there was no one standing in your way.

You both strided into one of the operating rooms in the next chamber. Quickly scanning the room for any more enemies, you found none, but there was one person laying on the operating table. You halted for a second. You almost didn't want to believe it. But stepping closer and looking more carefully at his face, relief flooded over you more strongly by the second. You couldn't help the gigantic smile that you broke into.

"Adler, wake up! We're here for you!" Woods called out to him, trying to shake him out of his exhaustion. "Gah…Woods…?" Adler hazily muttered. "That's right. Come on, up you come." Woods tossed Adler's right arm over his shoulder and brought him to his feet. Filled with adrenaline, you took the lead to escort you all back the way you came. "We gotta get back up. Who knows how much longer we have before they send in reinforcements." You spoke to Woods without looking back at him, but you immediately turned your head back once you heard Adler cry out in pain, seeing him collapse to the floor and taking Woods down with him.

You rushed over and put Adler's left arm over you, simultaneously lifting him back up, continuing to trudge along together. "W-wh…Bell?" It was the first time you'd ever heard him confused. "Yeah, you asshole, it's me. I'm here."

Moving as fast as you could to the helipad, Park and Sims rushed out to help lighten the load. Sims looked ecstatic, though you couldn't say the same for Park. If anything, she looked more relieved upon seeing that you were safe. As you all lifted him into the helicopter, the irony wasn't lost on you that now he was the one being heaved into a chopper for emergency medical attention. You pulled the door shut as you took off, just thankful that your days of searching were over. But now came the big question: What next?

#cod #bo:cw #cold war #bocw #call of duty #black ops cold war #russell adler #frank woods #helen park #lawrence sims #cod bell #sariya petrova #jason hudson #roman knight gray #freya wraith helvig #cod fanfic #black ops cold war fanfiction #cold war: remedy

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whisperingexecutioner · 2 years

Text

''Sweater Weather'' | A Stitch x Park Oneshot (BOCW)

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Summary:

After both being tasked with the examination of a hidden test site in Poland claimed to house a strange machine known as the “particle accelerator”, two unlikely companions cross paths.

Notes:

Fandom: Black Ops Cold War, Call of Duty Setting: Die Maschine (location) Pairing: Vikhor “Stitch” Kuzmin x Helen Park Theme: Warsaw x NATO (valentine week) Prompt: Sheltering together / winter snowstorms Attire: ‘’Redacted’’ (Stitch), ‘’Coventry’’ (Park)

Inspiration: An eventful day in Poland between two operators from opposing sides. . .

Rating: T - Mostly sfw

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Morasko, Poland November 13, 1983 ''Die Maschine''

He wasn't sure exactly how long she had been here -this lone MI6 agent, but, she already looked half frozen. Her shoulder-length jet black hair hung close to her pale cheeks and she kept her long jacket firmly tucked around her huddled form. He sighed. This was supposed to be a simple, one-day one-man reconnaissance mission, any extra living persons on site had not been accounted for...

Cautiously, he approached the piece of downed plane -a large cylindrical section of the cabin- that she was currently taking refuge from the weather in, and eyed her sleeping form. 'Steady breathing, occasional flinch', good Vikhor thought to himself. At least she was still alive, and didn't appear to be suffering from frostbite or any other ill effects of the current winter environment.

'She must simply be cold then. Most likely exhausted and possibly hungry,' he thought. She was definitely MI6; that much he could tell. Upon further inspection, he noticed a light AR style rifle propped close to her side opposite him, and thought it wise to wake her before proceeding any closer. Clearing his throat, he spoke lowly as to not spook her.

''Hello, I am unsure of what you are doing here but-'' a sharp gasp cut him off. This woman as it would seem, was a heavy sleeper who didn't take kindly to being awoken so suddenly out of the blue -especially not by a complete stranger. ''My apologies,'' he began, ''and do try not to be alarmed. I am not here to hurt you. I was sent here and tasked with small...''examination'' assignment, that is all.'' His heavy Russian accent rolled off his tongue like honey, and his calm demeanor seemed to put her back at ease - even if only somewhat. To further convey the harmlessness in his words, Vikhor loosened his grip on his own rifle, a custom jet-black Krig 6, in his arms before simply lowering it by his side.

Such a weapon seemed to suit him well; it gave him an appearance not unlike a child holding their favorite toy. She admittedly felt less tense after the small gesture, though still well on her guard and wary in the presence of the stranger. The large man -a soldier by the looks of it- however, seemed to harbor no ill-will and made no attempt at anything shady but rather simply stayed crouched, casting a glance over the general vicinity.

Gradually her nerves were beginning to settle; heartbeat slowing to a normal pace after being startled. And despite his rough looks, Park could not deny how glad she was that she would no longer be alone here. After all, with all radio signals currently being down, Vikhor was the only human company she had for the time being... A soft sigh escaped her, before a brief shiver.

''I suppose you're here on official business then,'' she stated, still unsure of the fellow. He lowered his head, but kept his cerulean gaze fixed on her.

''I suppose you could say that is truth.'' there was a lighter tone to his voice this time around, and Helen was finding that blue eye to be all the more piercing. Chancing the fact that he might be here for the same reason as her, she penned a decidedly bold question.

''Projekt Endstation,'' clearing her throat, she began ''do you know anything about it?'' Vikhor took a moment to ponder his response well before replying.

''Da, there is small store of information on it on file back in Moscow but, what we know to be absolute truth is still very limited. There are..many strange rumors. That is why I am here today. And what of you?''

''Much the same really; I'm working a small part in an ongoing private investigation of Endstation, and the alleged experiments that took place there. Here.'' she answered shivering, and slightly adjusted her coat. Under his mask, Vikhor frowned. He stood with a small heave and looked around, brows furrowed. This caused Helen to jar a tiny bit.

''Is something the matter?'' Her British accent cut through the frigid air like a hot knife through butter, and to say that he found it appealing would be a vast understatement. After studying the surroundings for a few moments, his eyes fell on what he was looking for. Something he could use.

''Stay put - I will return shortly'' he spoke with such a certainty, voice heavily overladen with that lovely accent of his, and stalked off to an unseen area around the plane compartment.

One minute.

Then five minutes.

Counting the seconds was overtaxing Helen's brain in the current conditions and she almost feared that her companion wasn't coming back. Around a full ten minutes later, she caught the sound of footsteps crunching against snow on the other end of the broken cabin segment. Sparing a glance, she noticed the large Russian firmly tying down a tattered, white sheet that sealed over the entire entrance - effectively blocking off all wind from that direction. Helen mentally applauded him for his efforts. Whereas this most certainly helped, it did nothing to stop the chill though.

Looking over his shoulder, Vikhor caught a brief smile from Helen before shivers overtook her body as she tried -and failed- to warm herself, arms hugged at her sides. As he had already tried radioing his own group while retrieving the cloth and confirmed that radio signals were either down currently, or not getting through due to weather, leaving early didn't appear to be an option. The look in her eyes was...pitiful. She looked like a person that was wholly unused to the freezing temperatures that Poland had to offer.

Finishing up with the makeshift wall, he shuffled over to her, and placed the back of an ungloved hand on her forehead. 'Too cold,' he muttered to himself in his mind 'she is losing too much body heat, much too quickly'. Placing his rifle a few inches to his left, he sit down beside her, laying back against the curved wall. Without a second thought, Vikhor -much to her distress- wrapped both arms around her and pulled her close to his side.

''WAIT, just what are you-'' she began, very clearly alarmed, but he cut her off before she could finish.

''Shhh..there is no cause for concern. This will warm you quicker; just rest for now.'' his voice was calm and reassuring, as was the hand currently stroking over her clothed arm.

A meek ''Alright...'' was all Park could muster. A good few minutes later and the pleasant warmth of Vikhor's body heat was beginning to flood through her -thawing the ice in her veins. She was still shaking a little but not as badly. A few seconds more, and Helen was huddling closer; laying an arm over him and placing her head against his broad chest. It took her only a brief few moments to slip under.

Once Helen had fallen asleep, Vikhor glimpsed down at her curiously. It had been many a year since he had held someone in his arms, and until now, he'd all but forgotten how fond he was of the small, simple touches. Nothing could ever replace the feeling of having someone you love so close. Vikhor mentally kicked himself. Sure it might feel nice but, this was just some random woman (and an MI6 agent to boot), not a long lost lover from a romance passed. He sighed. How many years had it been? Too many to recount. And yet...he still missed her.

Bell.

Love is unconditional but war does not discriminate. A bullet doesn't distinguish between friend or foe. Bombs care not if you have a loved one or family waiting at home. ‘Or had’ in his case, he would think. To many she had been an asset, this ''Bell'' as the agency had come to call her; nothing more than a pawn on the board. But to Vikhor, she was something else - something special. She had been his everything. Someone he held close to his heart, which the world had cruelly torn away from him forever. The fact that she had narrowly escaped a bullet to the head from Adler years prior, only to be killed in a coordinated airstrike was cruelty in itself.

He remembers that day all too vividly: he had been working a grueling three-week operation elsewhere, and came home to utter chaos. It was in the aftermath, among the flames and rubble that he found her. Bell. His beloved. Held half crushed under the beam of a collapsed building. Broken. Dying. Barely clinging to life. By the time she had been rushed to the hospital, it was already too late. Vikhor was left in shambles. Night after sleepless night, he would lay in bed thinking only of her, staring sorrowfully at the empty space beside him. It took years for him to once more piece his life back together, knowing that it would never again be whole.

Presently, Helen stirred, who was looking much better after a good hour of dozing. For reasons unbeknownst to him -or maybe ones he tried to deny- this felt...good. At this point, he'd allowed her to snuggle quite closely, leaving her to rest peacefully all cozy and warm in his embrace, until now...

She blinked herself awake, and lazily leaned up part way. Vikhor was staring straight into her eyes, making her feel somewhat self conscious. There's that beautiful icy blue gaze again... It was only then that she seemed to take notice.

''You're blind in your left eye.'' she stated all too bluntly, leaning up more to study his expression. It was certainly a strange one; he appeared hazy, somewhat distant, but for only a moment before snapping back to the present.

''What gave me away?'' his voice held such depth as he spoke, proceeding to brush a stray hair from her cheek and tuck it behind her ear.

''I'm sorry...I-'' her poor topic of choice left her feeling chiefly embarrassed to have even pointed it out; that kind of detail should have been obvious from the start. Especially given the fact that the eye’s blindness seemed to stem from a nasty scar trailing down nearly the entire left side of his face.

''It is most peculiar for woman of British intelligence to be working alone, do you not think?'' he smiled, almost cheekily.

Wait...when had he removed his mask?! Helen's eyes were caught up in thoroughly taking in all his facial features. Everything from his eye scar, to his scruffy cheeks, down to his lightly stubbled chin, and finally to his lips. Vikhor tightened a muscular arm around her side tugging her up closer, the scenario becoming all too much for Helen's brain to fully process and leaving her in a bit of a daze. This only served to further his desire, and before she knew it, his soft lips were on hers. Unable to help himself, he kissed her. The cloth barrier wall flapped wildly in the wind, as the landscape outside was engulfed in a heavy snowstorm.

Vikhor slipped a hand behind her head, caressing her hair fondly. Helen tilted her head to the side, allowing him to capture another kiss at a completely new angle. He made a soft humming noise and closed his eyes. Using his distraction to her advantage, Helen raised to plant herself above him. That little move alone set his pulse racing; made his blood boil.

Slowly letting her restraint die, Helen caught him by the chin and they both began a string of frenzied, impassioned kisses. As their situation became all the more heated, Vikhor found himself thinking that this little encounter might just lead to a change in his life. One that could once again find him satisfied and happy in a lovers soft embrace. A wry small crept across his face as he met her gaze.

''This is most undignified behavior coming from a British-'' Vikhor began, but his words were cut short by Helen's lips on his. She stopped his speech dead in its tracks with another deep, passionate, kiss. When she pulled away, he was left breathless.

''A.. most beautiful British woman,'' Vikhor stated boldly to her face, in a voice deepened by the desire burning through him. Then a sudden realization hit Park.

''Forgot to mention,'' Helen managed between breaths, ''comms are currently down. Otherwise, I would have already contacted my team. No help will be coming for hours - we are on our own here.'' She tapped her earpiece for extra effect.

''This does not sound like such bad thing to me'', Vikhor's voice was deep, as he stared at her with a certain new-found fondness. He rubbed a thumb over her cheek affectionately, brushing it across her inviting lips as she purred out a response, before capturing his once more.

''You know'', he breathed out with shudder, ''you are not so bad for agency operative.'' The sound of his voice caught Park off guard, who had momentarily ceased all movement.

''Not so bad yourself really,'' Helen's British accent once again hit him square in the chest; rang out in his ears like a pleasant melody, ''Though you did have me a little concerned at the first..''.

''Pfft...what are you talking about? Wouldn't hurt a fly..'' Vikhor flashed her an amused -and almost- smug look. His playful antics also seemed to amuse Park, who leaned up and grasped at his broad shoulders.

''Come here люблю,'' the implications behind his tone currently, aided by his deep Slavic accent, gave her butterflies; made her smile. Helen studied Vikhor, his body language doing very well at conveying just how long it had been since he's been this affectionate with someone. Shifting his position to set a bit further up, Vikhor promptly hoisted Park against his chest; both hugging tightly as they shared a few more heated kisses. From the moment he felt legs squeeze around either side of his waist, he knew it was going to be an entertaining evening. Briefly moving his gaze to his left, he noticed a small, worn passenger's mattress he had spotted earlier, and he now intended to make full use of it.

Ah yes, this would indeed be a day he would remember forever.

~ ~ ~ Some time later ~ ~ ~

After a good amount of fulfilling, intimate time together, they both found themselves falling into a blissful sleep. Vikhor, who now lay atop Helen's small form, and Park who was happily pinned beneath his warm body. Both wrapped in each others arms and snuggled for warmth on that tiny mattress. The small hand that ran along his muscular chest and side amused Vikhor. As it would seem, Helen had indeed taken a bit of a liking to him. She nuzzled his neck and whispered sweet nothings into into his ear. He gave a soft chuckle, enjoying the heat provided by bare skin against skin.

''Little woman is now satisfied then, eh? Good to know, not that there was ever doubt.'' Vikhor prided himself in many fields, not all of which were limited to his military expertise or even the battlefield for that matter...

The only response he got from Helen was a half roll of her eyes and a playful jab to the shoulder.

''Rest now прекрасный, we will leave out soon enough.'' Vikhor's sleep-laden words were barely above a mumble, and at this point Park's eyelids were already too heavy to keep open. Not long after, both were out like a light for the next two hours.

Helen, who awoke with quite a start, caused Vikhor to stir. A heavy groan left his body as he wiped the sleep from his eyes, and blinked himself awake. And just like that, there it was, all about them - like a dream. The fabled ''Dark Aether''.

''My word..'' Park gasped, staring out over their now wondrously-colored surroundings, and then towards the clouded sky fractured by bolts of wild lightning. Then there was the curious fauna...

''Is that...jellyfish?'' Vikhor found it hard to grasp the sights that now lay before him. The environment had taken on a rich, vibrant purple/amethyst shade, there were large crystals of the same hues sprouting randomly from the ground, and then of course, there was the jellyfish. Or at least, they looked like jellyfish. Small swarms of four and five seemed to just ''float'' through the open air as if it were meant to look natural. In all, the sight left them both astonished and at a loss for words.

''So the Aether does exist after all'' Vikhor proclaimed in awe.

''It's beautiful,'' Park couldn't seem to stop herself admiring the newfound beauty. ''But, if all the information is correct then, we'd do well to stay hidden and keep our guard up.''

''Agreed, but likewise, if information is true then we may have need to move.''

''That is a possibility..'' Helen's voice trailed off. From the underlying tone of excitement in his voice, she could already tell that Vikhor wanted to take a closer look at things - whether it was a wise decision or not. With that, both raised hastily to get re-dressed, and examine their weapons, then cautiously take a better look outside. Nearing the cabin exit, they kept stooped low as they swept their eyes over their current location.

Environment wise -with the exception of the crystals, a few oddly glowing patches of grass, and the ''jellyfish''- everything more or less seemed the same. The largest change was in the varying shades of deep purple that overlayed everything and the fact that there seemed to be less snow.

''Is it..warmer?'' Park whispered.

''Seems to be,'' Vikhor responded in regards to her question, as he checked his pocket gauge. ''The temperature appears to be setting at a steady 65 degrees Fahrenheit. Possibly even nearing 70.''

''Certainly more tolerable now,'' Park added.

Vikhor smirked, not that Park would notice with his mask back on now. He could care less to go swimming in below freezing weather. Needless to say, he didn't mind the previous cold one bit. He enjoyed it.

''So...how do you suppose we leave?'' Park began again.

''If we're to go based on previous reports, there should be...portal here. Somewhere...'' After a statement like that, Vikhor was simply waiting for some sort of verbal jest from Helen - though it never came. Instead, it would appear as though she had also read similar information before.

''You mean, the ‘anomaly’? Surely you're not suggesting we go through it..'' Park proclaimed.

''We may not have to, but we should not rule out as option. Especially not with everything that is said to lurk here.'' Vikhor mused.

Brushing any extra idle chatter aside, they carefully made their way outside. Guns drawn, and keeping a careful eye out for each-other, they set about making a sweep of the place.

After having conducted a more or less thorough examination of the immediate site, they moved to the abandoned building. It was a sprawling, crumbling mass of concrete with graffiti plastered across every wall and flat surface. Making their way into the second story entrance, Vikhor noted a few heavily decomposed bodies, but nothing else of significant importance. Half an hour later, their exploration had come to a halt with a few startling finds - all pointing towards the sinister truth behind ''Projekt Endstation''.

''Think it is safe to say,'' Vikhor concluded ''we both have a lot of paperwork to do. Also, we should head back to shelter for time being; something is off here..''

''Most definitely; agreed,'' Park spoke steadily, though clearly on edge given their most recent discoveries. Not to mention, during the last few minutes of the search, strange noises began emanating from somewhere deep underground - where they both suspected the facilities' lab to be, as well as the actual particle accelerator itself. If accessible, it could prove to be a potential hotspot for data and vital evidence. In any case, now was not the time for taking that kind of risk; not when they had obtained so much crucial, on-site information. Not that either of them wished to meet the inhabitants of this place anyway...especially not after having read many reports of the beast's brutality. That and given that some were even said to be radioactive...

The trip back to the plane went by quick enough, without issue -other than Park nearly mowing Vikhor over when a piece of loose rubble dislodged from the roof behind her, and clattered noisily to the floor.

''Heh, sorry about that..'' Helen gave him a small nervous laugh, to which he simply stared.

''If you ever do that again..'' As he was way too caught up in mulling over their findings here, to say that she had spooked him would be a bit of an understatement. Not the type of thing that happens very often (Vikhor does not spook easily) but, his heart was now practically beating out of his chest. Unable to stop himself, he laughed. A quiet but throaty chuckle.

''Perhaps it is this place..I for one, am eager to leave.'' Vikhor gave a nod of his head, then proceeded on the short trek.

''One small thing. Hopefully you won't think it rude of me to ask now but, I don't even know your name,'' Park expressed inquisitively, before continuing politely with an outstretched hand ''Helen Park, but all my friends call me Helen.'' The small, almost trivial request caught Vikhor off guard. Her honest and subtle demeanor prompted a quick response from him.

''Vikhor. Vikhor Kuzmin.'' his voice was calm and he pronounced each word in a fluent, almost practiced manner, ''though at workplace, around my... ''companions'', I often simply go by Stitch.''

''Vikhor...now there's a name I don't think I've ever heard used before; how very interesting.'' She smiled as they shook hands, and further relished the fact that he had such a firm grasp. Motioning forward, Vikhor prompted Helen to join him back in the cabin shelter, however, something nearby caught her eyes.

Garnering his attention with a clear of her throat, Park spoke. ''I don't suppose that would be one of those 'anomalies', would it?'' She then gestured to an unusual glowing object, that seemed to hover only a few feet off the ground, to the right of the crash site. Stepping out of cover, Vikhor eyed the unusually luminous sphere-like object suspiciously, before advancing towards it with Helen. After an all too cautious approach, care gave way to curiosity.

''It is..warm?'' Vikhor precariously ran a hand over and through the object, much too Helen's protest. He was after all, a scientist before a soldier. Curiosity was in his nature. ''I think..this might be a-'' Without warning, an abrupt animalistic call sounded off in the not-so-distant distance, but just out of sight.

''What was that?'' Park whisper shouted, turning to face the direction of the nerve-jarring noise.

''I am not sure, but we probably should not stick around to find out,'' Vikhor's words were swift, quiet.

''What do you propose we do?'' at this point, Park was clearly becoming a little anxious, ''And more precisely, how do we leave?''

Following careful consideration and weighing possible outcomes, Vikhor spoke.

''Come quickly, before we are noticed. It is merely a hunch but I wish to try something. Step into the light.'' he tilted his head towards the glowing purple orb next to them.

''Oh you can't be serious,'' Park started, ''we don't even know that it works, let alone where it might go.'' The evident alarm in her voice only heightened when he pulled her tightly into his arms, and walked into the warm glow. Together, they disappeared - and only seconds before a pack of twenty or so plague hounds scampered by.

Five seconds passed.

Then ten.

It was a very dizzying experience to say the least; made them both feel as though they were walking on clouds - though they very well weren't currently ''walking'' at all. Vikhor was the first to open his eyes. The Dark Aether as it would seem, as well as the pleasant warmth that had previously surrounded them, had completely vanished. Once more were they both stranded in the bitter cold at the former crash site.

''Then this is..the normal world again?'' Park questioned hesitantly, ''and, you mean to tell me that, the orb - it actually was a teleporter after all?'' There was a resounding, relieved sigh from Vikhor.

''It would appear as though time really does work differently in between here and the other dimension. Look how late it has gotten.'' He pointed to the orange sun setting low on the crimson horizon. Brilliant streaks of tangerine and violet filled the soon-to-be twilight sky. Turning to face Helen, Vikhor couldn't help but admire how beautifully the sky reflected in her eyes as she regarded the fading colors of the sunset with relief and all due fascination.

Moving to stand directly behind her, Vikhor wrapped his arms around her waist and planted his chin over her shoulder. Once again, he had removed his mask; each exhale a small puff of steam in the freezing air. The little detail didn't get past Helen, who was now both comfortable and content in his company; and also very happy to have a warm body to huddle against.

''We should be safe for now,'' Vikhor nuzzled his warm cheek to hers, watching the last rays of dusk fade. A tired hum left him, and he momentarily rested his eyes.

''Long day?'' Park questioned with a fond smile.

''Long night more like.'' He muttered, not bothering to open his eyes. ''This was supposed to be a sort of ‘break’ for me. Simple examination assignment they said. Guess they really didn't take the information seriously...'' He yawned.

''And here I thought you Russians were all the same - working with endless energy, running on nothing but women and vodka.''

''Is this...joke?'' Vikhor raised a sleepy eyebrow, ''eh well, I suppose it is true enough - at least where the vodka is concerned.'' Park laughed.

Turning in his arms, she once more planted her lips on his as the night air began to grow cool around them. He held her tighter and she leaned into his tough, enjoying the fact that he towered over her.

''Helen was it,'' Vikhor placed his forehead against hers looking her directly in the eyes, ''how would you feel about coming to work in Moscow?'' There was something akin to yearning in his tone. Park was left dumbfounded and at a bit of a loss for words.

''It is beautiful city, and I am more than willing to make special accommodations for you,'' a stark loneliness filled Vikhor's good eye as Park met his gaze.

''I'm...this is...rather abrupt. I suppose we could..perhaps better talk this out over dinner?'' at her mention of food, Vikhor felt his stomach growl. Breakfast had been hours ago.

''Perhaps; sounds like we have deal. Make it a date.'' another deep, hearty, chuckle left him at the thought. Him? A date? The guys would never let him live this one down.

''I think I like the sound of that,'' Park's actual acceptance of his little proposal both shocked and invigorated him. He already had some local shops and places that he was keen on showing her.

Just as stars were beginning to dot the night sky, the dull beating of heavy metal blades could be heard approaching in the distance. At the same time, Vikhor's receiver switched on with a familiar voice blaring through his earpiece. Naga's growly accent easily cut through any static in the line.

''Hey buddy, still alive down there? Sorry we are late, had a little incident to take care of earlier today, but it's all good now - no small thanks to yours truly.''

Several minutes later, Vikhor's strike team would be on site, to pick the both of them up. He could already picture the sarcastic smile on the young warlords face when he heard the full details of today's little ''escapade'' with Helen. A smug grin crossed his face. Maybe there were some details which he would keep only to himself.

Meanwhile, Park had all but buried her face against him, standing closely snuggled into his hoodie for what warmth he provided. She didn't pull away until the deafening sound of a helicopter's rotary wings could be heard above them, blowing the snow from the ground all around their feet.

Under Naga's scrutinizing (and somewhat amused) stare, Vikhor gave a brief explanation of why they had an extra passenger, and then allowed Helen the choice of which airport they would drop her off at. To his surprise, she opted to stay with him for now, even agreed to stay in his personal quarters -which earned a toothy grin from Naga.

If plans went accordingly, she would be flying out through her preferred airport in Moscow in around a week to report her findings, then returning for a ''vacation'' of sorts. She would go on to explain ''most'' of details of her little detour to Weaver at a much later date, offering him many a valid excuse when needed for the time being. There would be a lot she left omitted from her official report...

Before she closed her eyes, Helen caught Vikhor leaning back in his seat, eyelids slowly falling shut to catch some much needed sleep. Shortly afterward, she was copying him herself. Truth be told, they were simply happy to be leaving. As of today, they could put this place behind them. Bid Endstation goodbye forever - or at least, for now.

Author's Note: Welp there you have it, as long promised. Hopefully some of you guys were able to enjoy it. I’m admittedly a little rusty atm, it’s been a hot minute since I’ve wrote anything quite so large...and for the public eye X3 Might possibly post a better polished / expanded version of this eventually (no worries, this one will be staying on here as is). As for the deats, not everything here is correct concerning the Dark Aether but it still kinda works out, right? lol

Heheh.. Big bad bossman had a softy moment.

Translations: hopefully they’re accurate X3 люблю (lyubov') - love прекрасный (prekrasnyy) - beautiful

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jesuiscalmedammit · 4 years

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Mistakes Were Made – (1) Lovesick || [Russell Adler x reader/fem!Bell]

“Hey, Bell, what’s wrong?”

When he saw you sitting on the kitchen floor with your head between your knees, Russell began to worry. Was it a side effect of the procedure? Did it mean it wasn’t working properly? And what was more important, was your life in danger? As he knelt down next to you, he put his hand on your back and waited to finally hear what was happening to you.

It took you another minute to realize he was there, but when you did, you looked at him with tears in your eyes. “My head is killing me. And it’s not the first time. But–but I’m kind of scared of going to the hospital because what if it’s the symptom of something serious?”

“I’m sure everything’s fine and there’s a good explanation,” he tried to calm you down, although he was now certain it was a side effect of what they had done to you. The best he could do now was getting you some painkillers so he went to the bathroom to get them along with a glass of water. “Here, take these,” Russell said as he gave them to you.

At first you hesitated, but then you flashed a thankful smile at him. He began to wonder if this could get any worse once you were under a lot of pressure during the mission. That would cause quite a lot of trouble for the team and he didn’t want you to suffer either. Deep down he knew caring so much about you was a mistake, after all you were just a tool to find Perseus. Yes, that’s what you were: a disposable tool.

Yet…

Yet he could barely get you out of his mind. Making sure your fake memories felt as real as possible, he needed to earn your trust. He needed you to believe you were old friends so he spent a lot of time in your company. And this eventually resulted in him taking a liking to you. Which meant you were now one of the first things he thought of in the morning and the last one before he went to sleep at night.

“I think it’s my turn to ask,” you suddenly spoke up, snapping him out of his thoughts. “What’s wrong, Russ?”

What the hell was he supposed to say to this? That he was slowly but surely falling in love with you even though he knew perfectly well at the end of this mission you would have to die? What’s worse, if it came down to it, it would be him who would have to pull the trigger. Not Sims. Not Park. Not Lazar. Not even Mason or Woods. Him. He simply couldn’t let himself love someone he would have to kill eventually. Letting out a sigh, he did the only thing he could do in this situation: lie and pretend everything was perfectly fine.

“It’s nothing, you just scared me for a moment,” Russell said in the end.

Heavy silence followed his words but it was clear as day you were thinking about something. Should he ask you about it? Well, no, probably shouldn’t. If it was something you wanted him to know, you would surely tell him. But then you suddenly decided to stand up, although you were still too weak to do it without help. As he wrapped an arm around your waist to support you, he gave you a questioning look.

Once you cleared your throat, you said, “I think I should go home and get some sleep.”

“Nonsense, stay here and you can have my bed. I’ll sleep on the couch.” But it would be nice to sleep next to you, he thought. Shaking his head to get rid of this thought, he began to lead you to the bedroom. “The last thing I need is you fainting on the way home,” he quietly noted.

“You don’t have to sleep on the couch, though,” you said as you sat on his bed then crawled under the blanket. “We’re adults. And I’m sure you would make a comfy pillow.”

Sharing a bed with her? When she was planning to use him as a pillow? No, that wasn’t a good idea. He wasn’t sure he could survive the night without pulling you close and kissing you at least once. But he had to keep in mind what you were: a tool to catch Perseus. Yes, that was all. He didn’t have the luxury of thinking about you in any other way. No matter how adorably you looked as you made yourself comfortable in his bed.

Clearing his throat, he said, “I still have to make a few calls and I don’t want to wake you up so I’ll stick to the couch. Goodnight, Bell.”

note: Why the hell can’t I write fluff? Why does it always have to be angst? Anyway, this series is based on this post. I think there will be a time jump after this and Bell will hook up with Alex. 1) They both know what being brainwashed is like. 2) At least Russell will realize he shouldn’t let Bell go.

#russell adler #russell adler x reader #black ops cold war #black ops cold war fanfiction #black ops cold war fanfic #russell adler fanfiction #fanfiction #fanfic #call of duty #call of duty fanfiction #fic: Mistakes Were Made

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darlingor · 2 years

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Need sad Russ fanfic recommendations. I don’t care what it’s about, I just need it to rip my heart out and stomp on it. Thanks!

#call of duty #russell adler #cod:bocw #call of duty black ops #black ops cold war #cod #cod adler #cod cold war #cold war #call of duty cold war #adler #black ops #bocw #russell adler fanfic #adler fanfiction

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motherofwolvesfics · 3 years

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Weaver being jealous when someone hits on you

Inspired by this post:

Weaver can tell something's off the second he sees your noticeably annoyed and frustrated expression when the other dude trying to make a pass at you. You can usually handle situations like this on your own.......but something is making him want to come help you.

Guy in concern seems very oblivious to your discomfort and annoyance and keeps trying to pressure you into responding.

"I have a boyfriend," you say (a bit louder than necessary). "I'm not interested."

"Awww, don't be like that. He doesn't need to know!" that.....asshole responds.

The second Weaver hears this, his blood boils and he takes a few seconds to compose himself before coming to help you. He can't help but notice you glancing in his direction and giving him the "plz help" look.

"Do you need something from my girlfriend?" he asks coldly. His arm almost instantly wraps around your waist in a possesive yet strangely comforting manner.

The guy looks confused. "Wait, is this some sort of joke-"

"Leave her alone."

"What, can't I ask a cute girl out?"

"She's taken," Weaver hisses as his right eye narrows. You've seen him angry before, but never this mad.

When the dude realizes Weaver's dead serious, he backs off, looking scared. He runs off with his tail between his legs. But not before he gets a subtle "I will find you and I will kill you" threat from your boyfriend.

#cod cold war #call of duty #cod black ops cold war #fanfic #fanfiction #grigori weaver×reader #grigori weaver

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yunatheintrovert · 3 years

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Booty Shorts of the Motherland | Maxim Rykov Snippet

“Rykov-” The para hiccupped as he distractedly called for another glass of alcohol. Maxim’s stomach almost sank. Although that may have been in the copious amount of vodka thrown at him.

He glared warningly at the para. заткнись на хуй, he said silently, knowing that he was facing away from his companions.

Yet the drunken fool continued on, pointing an accusing finger at Maxim, “Did...didn’t a cadet Rykov get top marks in the pole and rope sliding?”

Maxim briefly considered the very much possible option of shoving the nearby vodka bottle into the big fat mouth of the drunken para.

But before he could even have time to possibly reach for the tall vodka bottle, the man was already blabbering away about shiny little shorts they had to wear in training.

Gavno, he hadn’t been able to shut up that drunken para in time. That idiot had broken the unsaid code among the paras.

Never talk about the “booty shorts of the Motherland”, as a nurse at the Airborne Training Centre had amusedly dubbed the shiny little shorts with a smug look in her eyes.

"Not a word, Timoshka." Maxim bit out warningly. Pizdets, his childhood friend of all people had to find out.

“How many rubles do I have to give for you to crawl down that pole in the shorts? The shiny ones?” Timur said slyly, gesturing to the pole in the corner of the establishment with one hand.

The establishments they were in were rather westernized, catering to the Western tourists frequenting Kabul. The live entertainment had various categories including...pole-dancing.

“Nyet.” Maxim looked down almost balefully at his drink. Why did he even let Timur and his men talk him into this?

“But tovarisch, you’ve been graced with gifts. You received top marks for your skills for this. Surely you don’t mean that!” Sidorov piped up, being the ever loyal lieutenant he was to Timur. Maxim sighed. When this is over...once he got his hands on that drunken fool of a para-

“No, I really, truly, with every fiber of my being... nyet.” he replied, downing another shot of vodka. The haze of the drink was for once welcomed in the face of this...onslaught.

He may do some exercise on the pole and rope from time to time. But really that was just exercise.

Chinese acrobatics, as the training instructor had called it back at the Airborne Training Centre.

He had not been dancing like a fucking stripper.

Maxim called for another drink. He wasn’t one to drink.

But desperate times called for desperate measures.

He needed a drink.

Just as another shot glass was filled and Maxim lifted it to his mouth, he heard his childhood friend speak once again.

“Oh, what would Miss Rykov think of her son doing dancing on the pole?” Timur mused aloud teasingly.

Maxim choked.

_____________________________________________________________

Author's Note: For @zombie-nymph , my friend and someone who keeps on supporting me and my ideas for Maxim. They also helped me come up with the name "booty shorts of the Motherland" after bringing up how military shorts that the Marines wore in the US military were dubbed the "Daisy Dukes of Freedom". As for anyone confused by the whole pole dancing thing, a training video I saw showed Soviet VDV troops sliding down poles and ropes as part of training. It also showed them in shiny shorts later on in the video. So this is inspired by that.

#maxim nikolaevich rykov #bocw #call of duty black ops cold war #I'm tagging it as bocw because Maxim is a Perseus Operator OC I made for the team leader operator in the Perseus trailer #call of duty black ops cold war fanfiction #call of duty #black ops cold war #I don't expect this to get any notes #y'all are probably confused #and I don't blame you for that XD #I'm making content that literally none of you followed me for #I am back on my Maxim bullshit

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animefreak1145 · 3 years

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The Golden Band(Adler x Bell!Reader)(Oneshot)

Word Count: 11.2k

Summary: Adler is beginning to notice that Bell has a growing fixation on certain objects and actions.

A married couple. A doting mother to her child. The pauses towards jewelry stores when they pass them.

And all he can think is: Shit.

Warnings/Tags: Mature Warning, 1983, Established!Adler x Bell, Hints of Woods x Bell, Implied Sexual Content, Some Sexual Content, Past!Brainwashing, Post!Solovetsky, Pre!1984 Events, Fluff

A/N: This was supposed to be 3k or 6k at most. This is a bad habit. Enjoy!

Russian Translation:

My love- моя любовь(moya lyubov)

Handsome—красивый (krasivyy)

Beautiful—красивая (krasivaya)

Russell—Рассел (Rassel)

My Russell- мой Рассел (moy)

My dear Russell-голубушка, рассел (galoobooshka Rassel)

Sweetheart- лапушкаka (lapooshka)

My Sweetheart- моя лапушкаka (moya lapooshka)

Baby- крошка (kroshka)

Shit-дерьмо (der’mo)

Good morning-доброе утро (dobroye utro)

Thank you-Спасибо (spasibo)

Adler awoke to his ringing alarm with a grunt, the sound grinding his ears and making you give a disgruntled closed mouth groan beside him. You turned to face him as he turned it off, blinking his eyes blearily and automatically wrapping an arm around your waist as you laid your head on his shoulder near his neck and a hand to his chest, your breath slowly coming out from deep sleep. The curtains of their room still hid the darkness of the upcoming morning, that and it is still the hour of dawn as Adler laid on his back, rubbing your waist that was covered by his shirt from last night. Adler leaned his head atop yours, glancing at your form with eyes still in the sleepy haze and soft as they roved at how his turtleneck seemed to swallow you and how your hair was up and awry with an affectionate tired smile.

You always seemed to enjoy his turtleneck, as evidenced by last night. He inhaled you deeply just as you sighed, the breath hitting his neck and him giving you a small peck to your temple before checking the time again with a squint of his eyes and sighing at what he saw. He shifted under you slightly, you releasing another petulant sound from the back of your throat even when he grazed a kiss to your ear and hand lowering to rub at your bare thighs from under the covers.

“Time to get up, sweetheart,” he said, voice thick with sleep and feeling dry even with clearing his throat and giving you another but firmer kiss to the side of your head with your disheveled hair. You frowned with a sleepy whine, nuzzling against his neck and wrapping your arms around him and getting half on top of him which made him chuckle good naturedly as he rubbed your bare skin of your leg. Bell always hates the morning. “We can’t be late,” he said and giving your thigh a squeeze before slowly shifting out from under you and the air immediately attacking him after sitting up and the warmth from you disappeared. “I’ll set the coffee up while you get a few more minutes.”

Once he finished up with the coffee, you eventually went down the stairs, your hair still up and your eyes squinting everywhere like an upset cat with his shirt reaching the top of your upper thighs and leaving little to the imagination. He passed you your mug how you liked it when you reached the kitchen counter, you grabbing it with a mumbled “Спасибо” in thanks, the spasibo sounding slurred. You taking a sip, a lazy smile on your lips and eyes brightening like they always do when he does your coffee right. He doesn’t know why, the way you like it is simple although high blood sugar inducing. He’s not one who forgets.

You leaned up to give him a kiss, but due to you still awakening you missed and got the corner of his lips on his scarred side instead, his lips quirked all the same.

Cute.

“доброе утро,” you greeted, before moving onto cook both of them a quick breakfast like always, him giving the greeting back and calling you lapooshka, ‘sweetheart’ in your mother tongue just how you like it as you hummed. Giving him his plate before settling next to him with your own as he gave his thanks while putting a hand to your bare knee, the other to his utensils and his eyes to the newspaper to read anything he’s missed while they quietly ate.

After they finished and went to get dressed, you called his name from their bathroom as he was about to put on his tie, his shirt still not fully buttoned as he went to check on you. Only to see you in your underwear while scrutinizing yourself in the mirror. His eyes roved down, him moving to lean against the doorframe as he stared in appreciation gleaming in his eyes.

“Called for me?”

“Yes, I called for you. Look what happened,” you pointed at the slope of your neck, his eyes going towards it before seeing what you meant as you put a hand to your face. “How am I supposed to hide that? I don’t think I have a collar high enough to do it. . .”

Adler shrugged, eyes canvassing the other marks left on your body due to him.

“You can always wear a turtleneck.” You shot him an unamused look which just made his lips upturn to a smirk. “Don’t know why you’re looking at me like that. You’re not the only one who has to deal with it.” Your eyes wandered to his neck where his collar was still open, eyes widening in realization with a small ‘oh’ and a hint of a smile that he caught. Him coming towards you and trapping you against the sink with your chest to his as you asked what he was doing hands to his chest, his lips grazing your own as he answered. “Nothing. Just find it funny you’re here complaining while I’m planning to wear mine like a badge of honor.”

You shook your head, laughing when he did a light kiss to the mark and putting your hands from his chest to behind his neck.

“You can be such an ass.”

You did a light squeal when he put you atop the sink, hands on your thighs once more and doing an appreciative squeeze.

“Only the special kind for you, sweetheart,” he toned lowly to your ear as you shivered before he gave you a kiss to your lips, tasting you and you doing the same before you pulled back to lay your forehead against his, eyes staring at him with a humored gleam.

“Who’s making who late now?”

He huffed at you, before letting you go after a nip to your sassy mouth. Eventually the both of you getting dressed and Adler telling you to just use one of your turtlenecks, he can find an excuse for you that you’ve been feeling cold lately if anyone says anything to the more casual wear when it comes to Langley. The both of you left and arrived in Langley, separating to their separate floors with a hand squeeze and than they were off. At least until lunch.

Adler focused on his work, going through files and possible evidence of what Perseus—which they have figured out is more an organization than a man—might be planning next and where. Except he noticed his mood was a bit lighter than usual as he smoked his cigarette and scanned words and events. Still feeling the focus and need to catch the fuckers, but his shoulders feel less tense. It’s something he began to take note of after he and Bell got together after wise time apart after Solovetsky, but he feels the power you have over him stronger today for some reason.

At the thought of your pouting face due to the hickey on your neck, he smirked around his cigarette and it still remained even after exhaling the smoke.

Others noted the change around him as of late, but no one dared to ask. At least the ones here. Except for the one.

“You’re looking chipper this morning,” called out Hudson as he stood in the open door frame of Adler’s office. Adler doing a distracted hum, putting out his cigarette and motioned for Hudson to come in for whatever he wants. Because it sure isn’t about his mood. The man just isn’t like that, which Adler can respect. Always straight to the point and focused on the mission more than a hawk in a hunt for it’s chosen quarry. Hudson closed the door, but stayed standing as he stood in front of his desk and handing him a file that Adler took easily. “Some of our team had discovered a string of operations that Perseus had planned in our side of the yard so to speak,” Hudson nodded at the files, crossing his arms as Adler’s lips pressed together, seeing the cities that are clearly of the United States as he flipped through the papers. “The string, as one can imagine, leads us back to Europe. Where some of our agents that are in NATO are already starting to set up there.”

“You said had,” Adler noted, putting down the file and glancing up at the man with his trusted aviators. “Does that mean those operations already happened or we were able to find future ones?”

Hudson released a heavy sigh Adler felt his light mood slowly start to fade.

Hudson began to explain the string found in different facilities from training facilities to some prison transports were ones that already occurred. And they could not find information of more that could happen in their soil, but they’re currently working on it when Adler questioned him. As well as answering on where does this leave Adler since Hudson brought this up.

“Due to all this, and the NATO team needing a guiding hand since Perseus’s main focus seems to be there, I’m planning on sending you to Europe.” Adler tipped his head forward in a semblance of a nod, figuring as much. Hudson’s expression seemed to shift as his gaze focused down on him as he stood, dropping his arms down to his sides. “Bell is staying here.”

Adler cocked a careful brow over his aviators, leaning back against his chair.

“Didn’t expect her to.” He never expects you to follow him everywhere. However, he does trust your skill set particularly. “But I expect you’re leaving her here for a reason?”

“She’s important in decoding the next possible string of operations Perseus has planned,” Hudson explained, tone neutral yet Adler couldn’t help but let his lips twitch. Of course Hudson praises you outside your hearing. Odd how if it’s just decoding that he needs you here though. He can spot Hudson’s eyes narrow at his humor behind his dark shades but continues. “Not only the ones here, but also for the ones in Europe and I’m planning to send her to the ones in the States once she unearths their plans.”

Adler hummed, seeing the need for you to stay.

“Someone sounds confident.” Hudson didn’t give much a reaction besides a mild curl of the lip at Adler’s pleased amusement. Adler than straightened, leaning forward on the desk and looking at the file once more. “Leaving her here and having me leave to a shitty safehouse. Should I be concerned about the distance?” He knows that his decision back than has been respected, eventually anyways with Hudson and his crabby attitude while Black’s was more cool silence with equally cool words. The change is evidenced by Hudson actually giving you credit, but never to your face. You look at Adler like he grew a second head each time he tells you when it’s just them Hudson actually gave you a compliment, face doubtful. At Hudson’s lack of reaction besides giving him an unamused look, Adler continued. “When’s my flight exactly?”

“A month.” At Adler’s eyes darting to his in question at the length, Hudson gave him a careful look. “It will give enough time for you to finish up what you have here for the time being since you just arrived a few days ago. And it’s enough time for Bell to decode the operation.”

So he hasn’t given it to Bell yet? But that’s not what he focused on. Hudson is acting oddly, Adler observed with a slight crinkle to his brow as he looked up at the man.

“I’m gathering it’s going to be a long operation.”

He didn’t say it like a question. Hudson nodded.

“You’re going to be in Europe for awhile. We need your eyes back up there.” It’s not surprising and Adler wants to go as quickly as possible to stop Perseus but he can recognize what Hudson’s trying to do. And it’s off putting to say the least. Hudson spotted Adler’s scrutiny, releasing a small huff out his nose. “I’m not blind, Adler. I, as well as everyone else here, can see how you and Bell have this. . .magnetizing bond,” the man settled with a motion of his hand as Adler stared. “But you and I both understand what’s at stake, Russ. I’ll give you what you need till than.”

Hudson hit his head and thinks the sky is purple. That’s the only explanation for the man’s rare kindness. Despite the man eventually accepting Bell, and even a harder time accepting him and Bell together, the man still won’t what someone might call their biggest fan in being a couple.

Once Hudson motioned for him to come with him to hand Bell the files, with his planned lunch break with you near either way, they walked through the halls and elevator till they were in your department. Only to see you not at your desk and talking to a woman who had a kind smile on her face, a bag in her hands as you did a motion to the elevators they just came out of. Adler heard Hudson’s breath hitch next to him.

“Jenny?”

The woman turned her face away from yours, the both of you now facing the two men as the others in the office openly stared with a mix of grins and smiles on their faces.

The woman’s smile, if possible, brightened more and lit up her face.

“Jason!” She went straight towards the shocked man, giving him a hug which he reciprocated after the shock going away at seeing his wife here. Adler stepped aside, instead focusing on you and his mood lightening once more, stepping to your side as you gave him an acknowledging soft glance before focusing back on the pair as he did the same, Hudson questioning on Jenny’s appearance at his work. “Oh please! I wanted to surprise you. Here,” the woman handed him the bag she had, which Hudson opened, seemed too at a loss to think to take this to a more private setting for once and revealed quite an expensive watch as the man could only stare. The woman wrung her hands nervously, a smile on her face. “You like it? I saw you staring at it once and I just felt it would be perfect for today of all days.”

He heard Bell murmur something about the woman saying to you about being Hudson’s wife, which he confirmed as he stood next to you, brushing his arm against yours as you leaned against a desk. You whispering to him once more you didn’t expect such a woman for someone like Hudson, which Adler chuckle good naturedly and about to reply only for Hudson to seem to snap out of his stupor and stare at his wife before grabbing her waist and giving her a kiss. The office whooped at that, seeing someone like Hudson like that a rarity and even Adler showed his surprise as his brows rose as you gasped softly next to him.

Hudson pulled away from the kiss, giving everyone a heated glare as his wife’s head leaned against his chest, his hand to her neck to hold her there.

“What’s got all of you gawking?” He asked sharply. “Get back to work! Now!”

No one had to be told twice, heads bowing and scurrying to their desks. You and Adler still stared though, as Hudson gave his thanks to his wife with a small peck to the forehead and her eyes glimmering lovingly up at him as she told him ‘Happy Anniversary.’

Well, that explains it. No wonder Hudson is acting nice.

Seeing that Hudson was distracted, Adler turned towards you to ask what you would want to eat for lunch only for you to have a dazed look in your eye as you stared at Hudson and his wife. Lost in thought.

“So even Hudson can look like that. . .”

Adler glanced at the couple before turning towards you, giving a light shrug and putting an arm behind you on the desk you were leaning against.

“That man has a heart. Just buried under the need to be an ass as well as having a stick up his own.”

You pulled your lips between your teeth, distracted.

“They just—they look real happy. You should’ve seen Mrs. Hudson when she came in here. Wanting someone to guide her to his office. Even saying he probably won’t like her in here but she didn’t want to wait anymore.”

Adler turned his gaze to you, giving a hum in acknowledgment at your words as he stared down at you. Something tugging on his mind and gut about you acting strangely.

“It is their Anniversary.”

You repeated the word in a low quiet murmur, to yourself as you bowed your head to look at the ground and played with the collar of your turtleneck. And than he saw it, his mind stopping as he stiffened as if ice poured over him, noticing the interesting way your lips pulled into a hopeful ardor smile and how your eyes had a look where you were seeing something that wasn’t here.

The empty space of his ring finger that’s been bare for years burned.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Adler did his best to ignore what he saw that day, because he does not know how to tell Bell it’s something that he’s done and now it’s gone. But incidents kept occurring, incidents he now noticed that he realizes there were past ones, where he would see that interesting unique look you had when a hint of commitment is being shown. Or of a future that actually doesn’t involve both of them constantly leaving in missions, which he will have to do in a few weeks time.

He hasn’t told you yet, even when Hudson gave you the files you need to decode that day, too distracted and trying to find a way to have a talk with you. Because this is integral to talk about.

But than you would make stray comments when they watched T.V. for once, about couples in whatever show and movie on. Like The Great Gasby, as you leaned on his shoulder on the couch with his arm around you with a blanket over both of them.

“I just don’t understand why Daisy just leaves Gatsby like that,” you grumble on his shoulder, mad at the woman who basically had a hand in Gatsby’s ruin. “She clearly loved him but she chose to be with that horrible дерьмо like Tom instead.”

Adler thought of the plot, staring at how Gatsby’s played by Robert Redford(he remembers the first time you saw the actor, you got excited and called him Adler’s twin. He doesn’t see it. You called him the better twin either way.) floated in the reddening pool. He put a hand to your head, fingers caressing your hair.

“She chose what she wished. Some people are just set in their ways. Even love can’t change that.”

Adler looked down at you, only to see your eyes swim with pity at the screen and making Adler’s mouth quietly shut at what he wanted to bring up.

“That’s so sad,” you say with sympathy before turning your head to look directly at him with a smile. “Good thing you weren’t quite set in yours, right?” You pecked his cheek and Adler did his best to not let his growing guilt show by keeping his face carefully neutral.

Another time was when they both got out of work, two of you gathering groceries only for your attention to be grabbed as they walked through the aisles with his tease fresh to you about to not make your solyanka dish too sour this time but your eyes turned distracted towards a crying child at the end of the aisle. The mother, he imagines, kneeled in front of the kid. Telling him sweet words they can get something later and if he would want ice cream instead after they finish here. The child, wet with tears and snot, did a loud sniffle with a hand to his face before nodding slightly. The mother breaking out into a smile, the child doing a shaky one as well before grabbing his mother’s outstretched hand and continued their shopping.

Adler stared at the two a moment longer, before glancing down at you. And you had that look to you again, as you leaned against the shopping cart with a hand holding your head. A distant yet wistful look, one that looked eerily similar to how you looked at him back than—before he wisened up and finally was able to confess.

“Kids sure can get rowdy at that age,” he decided to comment, grabbing an item from the shelves as if to look at it but his eyes were on you under his glasses. “But also easy to please. Reminds me of someone.”

You blinked, shooting him a look of offense with no heat. It made him smirk at you with a cocked brow.

“Ass,” you called, trying to hold back a smile and failing before looking at the item in his hand and asking if he wanted pickles. Adler putting it back with a shake of his head that maybe they can have a barbecue one day to buy it. You accepted the excuse easily, moving the cart but you had that look again before you glanced at him with a small smile. “That implies you’re good with kids, doesn’t it?”

He tilted his head. Guess it does.

“Not exactly, sweetheart. Kids can be hard to handle. Even for me.”

You snorted, raising an eyebrow at him in disbelief as they moved to another aisle and passed others.

“America’s Monster defeated by a child’s teary face and toys being thrown at him? What would people think?” He put a hand under your chin, making you momentarily stop with the cart as he gave you a gentle but silencing kiss. You looked at him oddly when he pulled back. “What was that?”

He shot you a ghost of a smile, teasing.

“Can’t exactly hear what people may think if the one who knows is too busy with her mouth doing other things.”

He really wants you to drop it.

You thankfully fell for the bait with a loud gasp in mock anger, smacking his shoulder with a call of his name that you use in your accent but you were open in a way where he wants to make sure you always keep it. After everything. Especially after everything.

The pit in his stomach only rose.

Growing after comments that seem innocent enough but Adler knows how little meaningless comments can actually be anything but. With purpose and thought, no matter how slight. Sometimes it’s not even comments, it’s how you would have that stare that looked faraway, looking like as if you were biting the inside of your cheek as you did so. A look in your eyes when they passed by a jewelry store and you looking a little too long. It looked too much like before.

But, like you, he seems to be following a similar pattern on how he acted before.

He still hasn’t told you about the mission he’ll be leaving for. It’s been two weeks done and gone.

The pit that was rising in his stomach dropped suddenly, when you answered a phone call to their landline. Your face instantly brightening to an excited grin.

“Frank!”

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You felt like your grin was too wide on your cheeks, but you didn’t care.

Frank’s call revealed that he’s back down here for awhile, him being gone for a long period of time and wants to play catch up with you and Russell. After you asked if Alex could join like old times, Frank asked you in mock offense if he’s just fucking chopped liver. You denying it with a laugh as Russell listened in, his face neutral as Frank answered through the receiver that Alex just wants to spend time with his family which you understood. You were trying to think on what day and time they can all meet up before Russell casually took the phone from you, greeting Frank cooly before saying they should call up Sims to see too so they can all get together. Something that made you bounce more in excitement when the plans were forming.

Russell rose a brow at you but stayed silent next to you as they sat in the bustling but quieting diner in downtown that had leaves from fall sporadically in the streets, managing to get the table as lunch rush was slowing down as they waited for Frank and Sims.

“Someone’s excited,” he commented.

You turned your smile towards him, Adler could’ve been blinded if he wasn’t careful, even with his shades. But you couldn’t help it! It’s been so long since they’ve seen Frank!

“Of course I am! How long has it been? Six or seven months? It’s hard to get us all together like this.” You sighed, leaning against your seat as you felt Russell’s arm behind you on the booth shift so you could sit more comfortably with his hand grazing your shoulder. “Shame though that Alex couldn’t make it. It’d be like a whole reunion—well, except Park. But it’d be a CIA reunion if he could’ve came.”

Russell shrugged lightly next to you, idly watching behind his shades the waitresses and waiters come and go as well as some of the lingering customers in the other tables.

“He’s got a lot in his hands. Besides, of course he’ll choose his family immediately when he comes back. He already spends enough of his time in missions,” Russell said, before shaking his head. “It’s a lot to balance. Especially in our kind of work. It’s amazing he can do it at all.”

You frowned, glancing at Russell before looking away.

“Right. . .”

Hearing your pensive tone, Russell turned a questioning look towards you. He sighed, moving to check his watch as he muttered that Sims should’ve came by now.

You looked around the diner, before practically jumping out your seat as you spotted who came into the restaurant and walking towards the booth—or rather, sauntering.

“Frank!” You would’ve knocked the man over from your hug if the man was smaller, but all he did was do a surprised grunt and a hearty chuckle as he slowly returned the hug around your shoulders.

“Damn Bell,” he said to your ear before he pulled back just as you did, his hands on your shoulders as he did an amused grin underneath his scruffily trimmed beard. Your hands were still on his shoulders that were covered with a dark gray jacket and underneath having a blue and white plaid shirt with jeans to match the outfit and black boots. “If I didn’t know any better, you were aiming to do a pinning move on me.”

You laughed, stepping back as Russell stepped over—him standing up soon after you got out your seat and watching the interaction with an unreadable look on his face besides an amused arch of the brow at Frank’s words.

Frank’s eyes focused on Russell, his grin settling into more of a coy smirk as he stepped forward

“If ain’t Russell fuckin Adler.” He reached a hand that Russell took firmly and with a twitch of scarred lips. “Still got those glasses glued to your face. When you gonna get that looked at?”

“Around the same time you get that bush for a beard looked at,” Russell retorted easily, making Frank snort and you lightly laugh.

The three of you settled back into the booth, interestingly Russell wishing to you to take the inside instead of him. You just give him a questioning glance, Russell only giving you an answering stare before you went in and Russell put his arm behind you again with his hand brushing against the curve of your neck and shoulder. The three of you began to talk about the past few months with only a comment from Frank that he’s surprised Sims didn’t make it before him with Russell checking his watch again with a frown before you stated that he probably got stuck in traffic or something. The three of you ordered only drinks, wishing to wait for Sims until they ordered as they lightly conversed about the work you and Russell were doing with Perseus. From your coding and Russell’s watchful reading until they get deployed for another mission.

You took note that Russell wanted to move on from them towards Frank, sitting across in the middle as he loudly scoffed and leaned back against his seat, arms spread wide with ankle atop his knee.

“Same old, same old with me. Sticking bullets in heads that need a little metal in their brains to stop being little shits.”

“I don’t think that helps them stop being shits, though,” you say, grinning as Russell started to play with a piece of your hair by your neck and Frank snorted again with a matching grin of his own as he leaned forward against the table.

“Ain’t that the truth. Still stink up the place too somehow with their fellow rats that just love to fuck everyone and everything around them.”

Russell turned his eyes towards Frank.

“Heard you were dealing with cartels in Nicaragua. A growing name keeps coming up there.” Frank met Russell’s gaze and away from your own as Russell took a sip of his drink, twirling a strand of your hair lazily, before continuing, “Menendez. Thought that was handled before?”

Frank shrugged.

“It’s his son.” Russell hummed in attention but Frank continued with another half shrug. “Hopefully he doesn’t do something stupid like his old man. He’s lucky to be even fuckin’ alive. But I wasn’t there for that—they may be trying to rise back again but there’s plenty of others that are on top that are making too much of a mess.”

Russell nodded as you listened, before he checked his watch with the hand that was playing with your hair before sighing and looking between the two of you.

“I’m gonna call Sims. He’s taking too long.” He gave your shoulder a squeeze before sliding out the booth with a subtle nod to Frank and stepped out the diner, already dialing on the large clunky phone he took out his pocket and standing outside the diner.

“Weird how Sims is taking a bit,” you comment with a concerned frown. You hope he’s alright. His flight landed earlier based on the earlier call so it’s not that.

You stared at Russell’s back, favorite tan jacket facing you as he stood out in the sidewalk with the phone.

“I’m sure he’s fine. Maybe he can’t make it.” Your frowned deepened at that as you turned back to Frank who took a sip of his beer, knowing Russell would want to see his best friend. Frank lowered the bottle, putting his attention towards you. “How are you, Bell?”

Your lips turned up into a half smile.

“Thought you already asked me that.”

Frank waved his hand flippantly.

“That was work shit. I ain’t here to keep talking about stuff I live through every day. How are you?”

You chuckled at his words but felt the warmth behind them. Despite Frank’s at times vulgar words and brash attitude, he cares deeply for the ones he chooses. You always appreciated that about him.

“I’m fine,” you say, leaning in against the table with crossed arms. “I like it when it’s quiet and just in one place for once that’s longer than just a week.”

“Ain’t that the truth.” Frank looked over at you, gaze traveling from your content face to the strand Russell was playing with out from its style to your hands before looking up again with a teasing grin rising on his lips. “And how are you and Robert Redford’s twin over there? Only about amount of time till you actually can hear church bells and everybody gets to throw rice at you saps.”

Your expression turned strained as you looked away, quickly trying to hide it by raising a hand to lean on your head with fingers hiding your mouth as you looked back at the entrance of the diner to see Russell begin to pace some as he spoke on the phone.

Frank noticed, his brows furrowing.

“Hey,” he called with his gravel voice as you looked back at him, frowning under his beard at your somber expression. “Hey, what’s wrong? You guys fighting or something? He sure didn’t act like it. . .” Frank muttered lowly to himself with a glance towards the entrance as you shook your head and sighed, dropping your head against your hands. He looked back at you, leaning forward against the table as he gripped his beer. “Okay, than what? He better be treating you right, Bell. Especially after everything.”

Frank’s tone had a hint of danger mixed with protectiveness which you didn’t blink at. Frank and Alex were pissed when they found out about what happened to you—they already were protective before but those two seemed to have increased it after that. They were bewildered like everyone else when you and Russell decided to tell everyone about you two, that you both got together. You guys aren’t exactly a rom com couple. But they, like everyone else, saw you guys loved each other despite what happened before.

“It’s just. . .” You sighed, as you closed your eyes and continued holding your head. “. . . I don’t think Russell wants to marry me.”

“He doesn’t want to what?! Why?”

“I just don’t think he doesn’t want to marry.” You lifted your head slightly, looking at Frank’s bewildered and irritated scowl. “He’s. . . been acting weird. I’ve been throwing hints for awhile and I think he’s noticed.”

“Like what kind of hints?”

You released a breath, lifting your head as you leaned it back against the seat.

“Just—you know, how certain married couples look. Certain scenes in movies. Random families with kids or even me pausing to look at a jewelry store.” Your gaze looked at Frank’s sobered expression, his brows furrowed as he looked down at the table . “He knows. He tries to change the subject or distract me and thinks I don’t notice. I just. . .don’t even try to bring it up. I can understand why he wouldn’t want to.”

Frank’s gaze darted towards yours.

“Why he—why he wouldn’t want to? Why wouldn’t he want to. . .?! Nothing’s wrong with you, Bell—“

“That’s not it,” you cut off softly. “I know it’s not me. I just. . . think he doesn’t want to do that again.”

Frank’s expression soured once more, his eyes moving towards the entrance to find Russell again only to mutter a curse. You followed his gaze to see that Russell wasn’t there. Something must’ve happened. Russell would’ve told you though.

Maybe he just started pacing for longer steps?

You frowned, thinking that odd only to blink when Frank stood and motioned his head and hand for you to take to rise out your seat.

“Come on,” he says at your confused look, a sharp grin growing on his lips that spelled trouble but promised fun. “He ditched us so let’s ditch back. There’s an arcade right across from here. We’ll be able to see when he comes back if we play by the windows.”

You had a small smile on your face as you looked up at Frank, who’s brows arched as he looked down at you, patiently waiting for you to take his hand.

You took it, his grin widening and helping you get up as you had a teasing gleam in your eyes.

“Thought I was the nerd?”

“You are. This is for you, not me.” You let go as the two of you left the diner, throwing him an unbelieving look as Frank’s brows furrowed. “What? It is.”

“Uh huh. So you’re saying I’m gonna beat you in Enduro and Boxing?”

Frank scoffed loudly, mixing with a laugh as they crossed the street towards the arcade. You looking and scanning the sidewalk to see Russell wasn’t anywhere. Maybe he’s talking in the car.

“Already shit talking, Bell? We didn’t even start yet.”

“Well, it is because I’m better at it than you aren’t I? Naturally nerds are more advanced than a regular old man like you.”

“Hey!” Frank opened the door for you but did it violently after you said those words, looking offended as your grin widened, amused. You walking in and Frank going back to your side with a mock glare. “Take that back. I still got it. I’m so going to kick your ass.”

You threw him an arrogant look.

“We’ll see. Maybe they’ll have mannequins in the back to take out your anger after your loss.”

“Oh, shut the fuck up and play me.”

The both of you went to a game by the window to look out into the street, choosing the race car game as Frank took out quarters and the played as you focused while Frank kept his narrowed eyes on the screen with a very concentrated look on his face that made you laugh. Your shoulders feeling lighter although Frank’s shoulder would try to push against you to distract you and you lose your grip as he cursed as he was losing which made you laugh more as you taunted him. And you won, obviously. To Frank’s displeasure based on his low mutters that these machines make you need glasses anyways.

The two of you were in the sitting area by the doors, able to see if Russell comes by. At the thought of Russell, your relaxed expression turned sad acceptance again. You felt Frank’s stare on you.

“Why do you think he won’t want to, Bell? Cause he already did it? ” You stayed silent, staring at your shoes as you nodded. Frank tsked, his elbows on his knees as he tried to catch your eyes. “Listen, I don’t know what he’s thinking if that’s the case. Divorced, single, widowed or whatever the fuck—anyone who’s got their head screwed on straight would marry you, Bell.”

The words were meant as a comfort. But it just made your heart pang as you moved your eyes to the side to meet Frank’s deep sincere blue with a sad smile.

“Thank you, Frank,” putting a hand to his broad tense shoulder and him letting you as he searched your eyes, before he frowned at what he saw. “You always know what to say. But I only want Russell to marry me. Not anyone. And I don’t think he will. Which is fine, I get it. He got really hurt last time. . . It’ll . . . It’ll bring back memories that I won’t want him to go through.” You than stood, facing an unreadable Frank who appeared tense. “I’m going to use the bathroom real quick. I’ll be right back.”

You turned away quickly before Frank could see your watery eyes, stuffing clenching hands in your pockets and heading towards the restroom at the back.

You know you probably won’t get it.

But, like always, you want.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Adler hung up with Sims with a deep sigh, taking off his glasses and rubbing his face as he stood by a light pole.

His words of advise echoing in America’s Monster’s head after explaining he could meet them later another day since he had car trouble, and hearing Adler’s concerns about you and your wants over the phone and his own feelings in the matter.

“Shit, Russ. We aren’t getting any younger you know. I know. . . your situation with your other lady but. . .you can’t let your happiness go like that, man. I’ve seen you two—you guys are the real deal. Bell knows you like I do—maybe even more. And I’m not talking about how you are in the sheets cause fuck that image.” Adler laughed at that, Sims chuckling over the phone before his friend continued. “Thing is, you guys get each other. She doesn’t care about the shit you’ve done and I know you don’t care about her shit neither. You’re happy man. You know you are. So what’s the issue?”

Adler doesn’t know. He can’t even say it’s an issue. There isn’t an issue.

Sims is right. Bell is amazing.

You understand him better than anyone else. Only dating for a year out the window because their situation was unique. His inner demons he would rather keep hidden but you would soothe with acceptance and care. Which isn’t surprising, you’ve experienced them before.

Is that the issue? That he’s hurt you before and just feels guilt for forcing you to be stuck with him?

But that’s not it. Because you want it.

And you deserve to want it—to get everything you want. Adler will do anything to make sure you get anything you wish.

You deserve every caress and every kiss and every gift and everything the world could offer.

Hell, he would kill for you.

He’s reached a point where, in dark mind and thoughts, he’ll do whatever it took to make sure you’re happy and alive and by his side. He would sacrifice teammates if necessary.

Fucked up. But he’s always known he isn’t a saint.

You knew that too.

You’ve always known.

Before MK—Ultra, during or after—you never judged him for it. You had an understanding with him—able to seehim and not just talk air when you say you understood. You’re the only one that could.

The other side of the coin—matching in intensity but different backgrounds and purposes. Until you chose that day and he did too. On those cliffs.

Adler moved a hand over to where he knew the scar was on his right shoulder before he clenched his jaw, lifting his head and putting his shades back on. He began walking to where he saw Woods and Bell go to earlier when he walked back around the corner in the direction of the arcade.

Adler is going to make another one.

However, just as he walked in through the doors of the arcade room—he saw Woods stand up with a scowl on his face and no Bell only for the man to grab him by the collar roughly as Adler’s eyes narrowed behind his shades.

“Tell me right now what the fuck you’re thinking?” Woods voice was quiet but each word was enunciated with force as he tightened the hold on his collar. “Do you have any idea how you’re hurting, Bell?”

Adler shamefully winced but stared at Woods calmly.

“What exactly did she say?”

“That you’re a blind wallowing motherfucker who don’t know what’s up or down and how to work a ring.” Charming. Seems you told him and I didn’t do quite a good job like I thought. “What do you think she said? What the fuck you’re doing? Twiddling your fingers until you croak?”

Adler met Wood’s angered stare, jaw ticking as he put a hand to push Wood’s hand away. He didn’t budge and seemed to glare harder.

“Woods,” he began quietly, “you know how it was for me before with—“

Woods shook him once with the collar, teeth clenched as Adler had to cut himself from the movement—hand atop Woods tightening in warning as his gaze sharpened.

“That bitch ain’t Bell so I’m not hearing it. I don’t know what’s wrong with you or what you’re doing besides chasing Perseus like a dog to a fuckin bone!” Others were glancing in their direction now but Woods didn’t seem to care as Adler met his stare, Woods eyes narrowing before widening before turning into slits as he growled. “Adler, that woman looks at you like you created this shitty earth. And if you aren’t treating her the same, you might find that she gets stolen away to someone who might.”

Adler’s own eyes narrowed dangerously, a suspicion correctly made as he successfully pushed Woods hand away.

“I knew it. You always were more protective of Bell compared to Mason. And he’s the one that went through brainwashing and could understand her best.”

“Don’t,” Woods says lowly. “Not a good idea to mention that. Might punch you again. And I don’t see what makes you so worked up,” Woods crossed his arms. “Anyone knows no ring means free game,” he added with a point to his hand.

“Than that just means an extra reason to give it to her.”

Woods brows furrowed before he blinked in realization, dropping his arms to his sides as he observed Adler and the truth in his words. Adler’s countenance the epitome of serious.

“Huh,” Woods blinked again, scratching the back of his head. “So Sims woke you up from this stupid haze you put yourself in?” Adler confirmed with a nod and Woods scoffed, sounding similar to a laugh as he sat back down in the seating. The others in the arcade going back to their games. “And here I was thinking to myself you would die before you would even think to pop the question.”

Adler’s lips twitched before they settled.

“Does Bell know?”

“Man what? What kind of brother you think I am?” Adler pointed out he heavily implied someone would take Bell right from underneath him and Woods guffawed, waving his hand at him. “Get out of here! I ain’t got what you guys do. As long as you’re serious about the ring thing. Right?” Woods asked imploringly with a look up towards him.

Adler knows what he has to do.

And it’s to be by your side.

Adler nodded. Woods giving a slow nod of his own as he stared at the ground. He decided to break the tension as he prepped a cigarette in his lips.

“Wouldn’t you die first? You’re older than me.”

Woods threw him a truly befuddled look.

“What are you saying?” He than sharply grinned, as if he knew a secret joke. “No one can kill me.”

Adler rolled his eyes at the false equivalency before he focused on you as you exited the bathroom.

You deserve the world, Bell. And I’m going to give it.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

You don’t know what happened, but something changed after that day in the diner. You know something happened based on Russell’s wrinkled collar but there wasn’t any injuries in any of the two men.

Russell explained to you what happened with Sims, but the three of you ate dinner together. While the four of them was able to reconvene together the next day—conversations easily flowing with Russell’s hand either around your shoulders or touching your knee under the table, your hand atop of his and squeezing with him squeezing back, while throwing a soft smirk or glance your way under his shades before focusing back into the conversation.

Russell also explained to you, in their house with a regretful mien as he kneeled in one knee in front of you as you sat on the couch, that he’ll be away for a mission in two weeks. A long one. You let out a sigh at the news, but smiled lovingly at the man and kissed his scarred cheek than his lips. Thinking to yourself this explained more of his odd behavior as you spoke to him. That it was part of the job after all. And that means you won’t let him out of your sight.

He relaxed as he stared up at you as he squeezed your knee, half-smiling before something seemed to change. Your eyes blinking as the air shifted as Russell had one of his dark promising smirks, eyes burning as he shifted. Settling more as fully kneeled, but between your legs that with his hand on your knee grazing upwards, your stomach doing flips and warmth rising as Russell’s eyes didn’t leave yours. When he spoke, it was his low husky timbre that would always make your toes curl because you knew what it would mean.

“Don’t worry, лапушкаka.” His Russian, masterful as always, dripped with sin even though lapooshka merely meant sweetheart. He tugged you closer to the edge of the couch with his hand on your belt loop, your excitement growing when your lower half hit abdomen and stayed, his hand on your thigh not leaving as it squeezed in appreciation when you gasped at the movement, his smirk widening. “I won’t let you out of my sight either. I think you can handle it. Hope you don’t mind my watch beginning now.”

You certainly didn’t mind.

You didn’t mind his languid yet purposeful touches on loosening your clothing. Didn’t mind how his stubble slightly scratched you as he would kiss or graze his lips when he’d tease, your nerves tingling along with the apex between your thighs. You certainly didn’t mind when you keened and mewled, his head lowered in between your naked legs as if a man starved and fingers working efficiently. Russell didn’t seem to mind when you automatically bucked your hips towards him, hand gripping his hair. Only humming ,pleased, that made you moan from the small vibration, his hands moving at your backside and pressing, as if he wishes for you to do it again. You think he would mind if you somehow suffocated him.

Only for him to notice your hesitance, face raising a tad and your eyes dilating, glazed, at his disheveled appearance with a upturn of wet lips that he licked purposefully with his eyes up at you.

“Ride me like a stallion, sweetheart,” he said, his breath on you and making you wriggle your legs over his shoulders. His gaze gleaming as he pressed his lips to your inner thigh, eyes still on you as you could only stare. “Go ahead. I want you too.” He put your hand back on his head that you dropped, a final glance towards you with an arched brow as said once more, “Ride,” and continued his attack.

Needless to say, you didn’t mind doing as he asked.

After, when you were spent and content as you laid on a relaxed yet thoughtful Russell on the couch, you moved your head for your chin to lay on his chest.

“What’s gotten into you?”

Russell peered down at you, your inquisitive expression with an imploring smile making his own lips turn up.Transferring his hold around your waist to graze your cheek.

“Can’t have sudden bouts of energy to please you, Bell?”

You snorted at his own attack of his age as you shook your head at him. Only to close your eyes when he pressed your previously heated temple, staying there for a moment with his hand on the nape of your neck before pulling away, blue eyes lidded.

“Like I said, I don’t want you out of my sight. So I’m going to savor it—savor you,” he emphasized with a teasing glint that made you blush and lightly smack his chest which he chuckled at as he went on, sobering. “Sorry how I’ve been acting. It won’t happen again. You have my word.”

That should’ve been your first hint.

But you just continued, the days going on by like normal whether at work or at home. You almost done with the codes Hudson assigned you but the back of your mind wondering what caused the change. Russell seeming to notice you were upset when he would dismiss your hints before, so the apology must’ve been about that.

For when you weren’t at work or lunch or them hanging around Woods and Sims, Russell seemed restless and wanted you near.

It was three days before Russell will have to leave, you done with the code, and you probably wouldn’t see him till sometime next year for December is around the corner, that Russell told you to get ready for an outing tonight for dinner, eyes on you as you still laid atop of him in their bed in the morning. He looked excited and you were too.

You enjoyed when he took you out to eat in the nice restaurants and dress up for them. It happened every so often, but especially when right before they had to leave for a mission. Whether it was a mission together or separated, they made sure to create a nice good memory before they had to do their job’s.

The sex is nice too, you think with a blush as you get dressed up in a slitted dress that appealed to you, doing wonders for your shape and prepping your hair and face. Russell can get pretty handsy when you dress up, constantly needing to have his hands on you. Which he normally does, but the touches are methodical and purposeful to get you worked up. Sometimes, even before they practically rip their clothes off each other, he would touch you when they were out and sitting in the restaurant for anyone to notice if they really looked with eyes staying on you and Russell’s table. You’re no better though. You can tease at times too when Russell wore his suits or his long sleeved buttoned shirts that would hug his figure, but not as much as him. I just hope he doesn’t accidentally rip this dress like that other time. I really like this one.

You were almost done in your master bathroom. Russell getting ready in the guest bathroom downstairs to make it quicker to the 7 PM reservation got for the restaurant.

When you were done, you looked over yourself one more time. Checking if your hair is out of place anywhere and your makeup in order.

“Bell?” Russell called from downstairs. “You ready?”

“Almost!” You called back, checking the mirror once more before leaving and going downstairs.

Russell turned to you when you reached the bottom half of the stairs, taking a long look at you like you did him. He was wearing a light tan two piece suit that complimented his hair, with shiny brown brogue shoes to match alongside a rust colored tie for once. He rarely wears them and prefers to keep the first two buttons of his long sleeved shirts unbuttoned so he can feel like he’s breathing. Not that he doesn’t appreciate the ties, he’s just always had a preference. You weren’t complaining though, the suit hugging him nicely and accentuating all the parts you love about him as your eyes roved up to meet his.

You noted he was clean shaven as well, no stubble in sight and did you have your own personal appreciation when he looked like that. Your pleasure going upwards along with fluster when you spotted Russell’s soft eyes like you were the only woman in the world yet glinting in passionate admiration, looking half tempted to not go anywhere after all.

“Well, don’t you clean up nice.” You tease, Russian mixed with American thick as your eyes moved downward and up once more, catching how Russell’s eyes gleamed in smug amusement at your unsubtle checking out. You placed a hand to his chest, feeling the soft material of his suit you imagine hastily releasing him from it later as you stared up at him through your lashes. “Hello, красивый.” You complimented, for he was indeed handsome.

The handsomest man in the world, you think.

Russell smiled at your words, hand going to your hip.

“Hello, красивая.” He complimented back as your smile widened, your cheeks warm. “I can say the same to you. Let me see,” he put a hand to yours, raising it as you twirled around him with a giggle as he hummed, pleased, before bringing you in for a kiss to your temple. “You’re so perfect,” he said to your temple, the content clear in his low voice, before motioning the crook of his arm for you to grab which you did as they walked out of the house and towards the car. “Hope you’re ready for some Italian, wine, and being waited and foot, Bell. This is going to be a nice night.”

You wondered what he meant, for his tone wasn’t low in frustration but holding a twinge of nervousness yet anticipating hopefulness. Which is rare in of itself. Russell is rarely if ever nervous.

You glanced at him but he motioned for you to take the seat when he opened the car door, you doing so. The two of you drove to the restaurant and sat at the table, a private little corner yet able to see the shows they had here. Russell ordered the wine as you stared at the show they had, an Italian singer accompanied by a band. You were surprised at the wine as well, for Russell usually gets his bourbon, whiskey or scotch no matter where he is. You couldn’t help but raise a brow at him when the server poured the wine and after they ordered.

“Aren’t you feeling fancy? You’re going all out.”

Russell did a small half shrug, sipping his wine as he looked over at you over the glass.

“Only the best for you, Bell.”

You don’t know how him drinking wine has to do with you, but you decipher it’s because he’s partaking with you so you just let it go as you smiled curiously at him. Their food eventually out as they ate and spoke about this or that, you feeling quite light and it was these moments where you don’t mind accepting you won’t get married. Or even have a family. The quiet moments between you two is what you treasure the most, it’s what made you fall. Before. Back in the safehouse two years ago.

They got dessert just as the Italian singer left, being replaced with a male singer and a pianist you distantly noted as slowly patrons left the restaurant for it was nearing closing time. Only four other tables were filled but were also finishing up and were far enough distance away to not disturb one another as well as not see. Russell and you kept speaking, you noting a gleam in his eyes as he smiled attentively towards you. Your hand under his maneuvered to squeeze at him, raising a brow when you lowered your utensil from your mouth after the bite of the dessert.

“You alright?” You couldn’t but question, a slight tease in your tone but curiosity rising into a need to know. He’s been acting quite odd the past few days. “You seem distracted the last few days.”

Russell’s eyes focused on you, his lips raising a little higher as he squeezed his hand on yours, shifting his knee to touch yours under the table. The other patrons outside of one shuffling away outside. Seems they and the other table were the only one’s left.

“I will be.”

You were about to question him on what he means when the last show of the night started. The piano beginning a slow melodic yet somber tune that sounded familiar to you, your eyes going towards it in curious attention. Russell in the corner of your eye looking at you intimately and you noted he shifted but all you focused on was the show. Because the man than began to sing.

“Мне говорят: она маленького роста,

They say to me: “She is of small stature.”

Мне говорят: «одет она слишком просто,

They say to me: “She has simple clothes.”

Мне говорят: «поверь что этот лапушкаka

They say to me:” Believe, this sweetheart

Тебе не пара совсем не пара.”

Is no match for you at all.

The piano began to pick up its pace, but it stayed true with the melodic timbre the song was aiming at for this rendition. Pleasing to your ears and hearing the smooth Russian speak about a love song you knew—you felt like you knew. A distant memory unlocked with pleasant words, lengthened in a rhythm as you could only listen, entranced.

“А она мне нравится, нравится, нравится!

But I like her, like her, like her

И для меня на свете друга лучше нет.

And there is no one better in the world as her.

А она мне нравится, нравится, нравится,

But I like her, like her, like her

И это всё, что я могу сказать в ответ. “

And it's all what I can say in reply.

You couldn’t believe this. A Russian singer in a restaurant, Italian or otherwise? Here? In America? Proudly singing like this when the Red Scare is still occurring and high? It’s a risk to be glared and spat on. You would have to be careful speaking Russian in public spaces, lest you be judged or raise tension no matter what Adler says to not mind them. But it would be best if she spoke lowly in Russian to his ear than anything else. And yet, the one’s on stage didn’t falter—not when the place was so empty. It made your Russian pride sing for once, shame and guilt of what you did before and you don’t remember much—you are still proud of where you’re from.

You turned your excited face towards Russell, gripping the table edge as you leaned in.

“Russell, do you hear this—“

Your breath got caught in your throat, the music in the background seeming to dull, your grip loosening and eyes widening at the sight before you.

Or rather, under you.

Russell’s eyes glittered in soft amusement, as he bent one knee with his elbow atop it as he stared up at you. The low light and candlelight on their table giving him an equally soft glow against his clean face, shadows flickering as the candle moves.

“I love you, Bell,” he began, quiet yet strong where you could hear him. All you could hear was his voice as you stared. “I’ve said it before, rare as it is, but I mean it when I say it. I won’t ever hurt you. Not again. Not ever. But,” he sighed, his gaze lowering for a moment before raising back up towards yours. “I’ve seemed to make that mistake anyways. You want a wedding—a family. Things I’ve already tried but life decided it wanted me to get shit on. It was hard. And when I threw my old ring to the ocean, I decided never again. Civilian life isn’t for me, can’t be for someone like me. I’ve never been a saint.” He threw you a wry smile. “But than, you came along. Not the best love story—no pop songs about this type of insanity will come. Still. You understood me. Accepted everything. And I know you see everything. You didn’t run. Somehow, I got landed with someone just as willing to do crazy shit like me.”

He chuckled here and you couldn’t help do one too, smiling down at it with a press of the lips before it quickly parted with his next few words. Russell sobering.

“Honestly, I’m surprised you even came back after your time with MI6. Much less want to see my face. Even though I wanted to see yours, something more than an update over the phone about you overseas. Just a glimpse so I can see myself.” You didn’t know this. Russell said he wanted you sooner when you went back to the CIA and touched upon their quiet feelings. He really wanted to see you. Russell took a steady inhale, lips quirked up at you as he moved a hand to his inner jacket pocket. “I thought a lot. About all this. About my own feelings of marriage. About you—us. How I’m being ridiculous and I won’t ever find someone as perfect as you, моя лапушкаka. Who actually gives a damn about me.”

You spotted the box and suddenly you felt like every cliche as tears gathered in your eyes, hand going to your chest and your open mouth as Russell opened it. The ring a beautiful jewel of diamonds but you didn’t care about that, you looked back up at Russell whose head was tilted at you, clear love in his eyes that made your hammering heart in your chest pound against your ribs and warmth going down your cheeks.

“I won’t hurt you,” he vowed. “No one will. Not when you’re with me. I’ve never been a good man so anyone who does just that signed their death. I love you, Bell, “ he repeated from before and than his head straightened as his lips did an interesting thing that made it look like he had a boyish smile. ““Согласна ли ты выйти за меня замуж, лапушкаka?”

Will you marry me, sweetheart?

You more stumbled than got out of your chair, on your knees with him as you threw a hug around Russell with a blubbering joyous sob. Not knowing what to say and stuck on what to say due to your short breaths as you nuzzled Russell’s neck. You felt his chest rumble with a chuckle, arms going around your waist.

“You’re ruining your dress and makeup,” he lightly reprimanded, you letting out a choked laugh as your hold on his neck tightened. He shifted, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’m going to take this as a yes, Bell, if you don’t speak up. Is it a yes?”

You pulled back your teary face, lightly smacking his chest that only made his curved lips widen.

“Ass. Of course it’s a yes!”

Russell threw you an affectionate smirk, hand going up your face to thumb away some tears which you helped on your other side as you sniffled. He put the hand holding the box between you two, grabbing your left hand and slowly sliding in the ring to where it belonged. Where it belonged. You threw your arms around him again before giving him a sloppy yet intimate kiss that he easily gave back, his arms around you a comfort before you pulled back. Your eyes watery and half lidded as you stared up at him, hand to his scarred cheek and lips brushing his.

“Я люблю вас, мой голубушка красивый, рассел,” you say lovingly. “Я тоже не хороший человек. I won’t let anyone touch you, моя любовь, рассел.”

I love you, my dear handsome Russell. I’m not a good person either. My love.

Russell took your hand for the both of you to stand, and you noticed the waiters were looking at them in support along with the show people. They must’ve stopped playing a few minutes ago.

Russell kissed your knuckles, clear blue eyes teasing.

“The handsomest?” His lips brushed yours as he said it, almost caressing the ring on your finger.

You would’ve smacked him again but you just tugged him down by the neck and give him an answering kiss that steadily grew passionate. You pulling away with a slow amorous smile, ringed hand on his smooth cheek as his eyes burned.

“The handsomest.”

Needless to say, when they went back home and Russell’s gentle teasing and kisses and loving with you doing the same, he didn’t mind you weren’t wearing underwear at all under your dress. Didn’t mind at all.

▞ ▚

▛

Will you marry me, sweetheart? -“Согласна ли ты выйти за меня замуж, лапушкаka?”(Ty vyydesh' za menya zamuzhI love you-Я люблю вас)

I love you-Я люблю вас(YA lyublyu vas)

I'm not a good person either-Я тоже не хороший человек(YA tozhe ne khoroshiy chelovek)

Thank you to @salvija who helps me out with the Russian! 💗

What can I say? I love Soft!Dom!Adler. It's a weakness of mine. Also, I'm a sucker for Woods. I did like him first before I fell head over heels with Adler.

Also, I know Hudson loves his wife and kids a lot. He does. He's the type that has to be hard and glaring all the time in his work because he has to, can't be soft and can't lose face or have anyone disrespect him. But, you manage to catch him outside of work and get through those glares he loves to give everyone, you might see a softie. Might. Only to those he really loves.

I don't know. Might make a Bell x Hudson fic. That scene in my other story has had me thinking. Expect that at some point as well as a literal Enemies to Lovers fic when it comes to those two—and even a true one with Adler x Bell.

Anyways! Hope ya'll enjoyed!

Tell me if you wish to be tagged for my future works or to not be tagged.

Tags: @tr1ppylady @parkeepingparker @weirdoartist21 @mayaibnlaahad @salvija @kylezkie4adler @asaltryefl @stupid-stinky @aurora-windu @zombiequeennxx @writer-of-various @holy-crap-i-am-russell-adler @zulema117-blog @kylezkie4adler @darlingor @smokeywhalee @quizzyisdone @strawberrypooch

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