#female!bellreader

“What are you thinking?”

You started from your desk, pausing your scratches to your papers and glances to screen of your computer in the safehouse of Verdansk to see Adler stood behind you, his eyes for you to see as he glanced at the papers in front of you. Your quiet corner in the small safehouse, small compared to the previous one in Berlin, mostly dark outside your desk lamp.

And, you took a glance behind Adler to see Hudson left, unguarded. You looked back to find that Adler was eyeing you. At least somewhat.

You closed your eyes, releasing a sigh as you rubbed your face and raked a hand over your hair to take some stray strands out the way as you faced back to what you were doing.

“Where we go from here,” you say, looking at all the papers in front of you. From one’s you wrote to reports and files that Hudson deemed to be too unimportant or not important enough and therefore safe for you to look through. “It seems this will only get harder. Based on what Captain Butcher said in the bunker and everything else he’s told us since coming with us here, our attention’s may be split.” You stared at the computer screen, blinking at you as you bit the bottom of your inner lip as the name Perseus seemed to say hello and wanted your attention. You looked away back towards the papers, motioning a hand towards them as Adler went to your side. “Finding and figuring out the next Perseus. Cleaning up and solving what Stitch did as Perseus. And now covert operations done by Nazi loyalists all over the world. All of these seem to take precedence but I don’t even know where to even start.”

That, and you finding out a piece of your past has made you once again wonder if the world loves to torture you.

You told Adler and the others about the German WWII bunker, where the other side was where Adler planted his decoy bombs when he wasn’t himself. Adler’s stoic expression almost faltered when you mentioned it but you kept going, reassuring that a Perseus agent known as Fuze handled it but the CIA type made bombs isn’t the reason you felt like they should go down there. Hudson’s suspicious questions and stares didn’t make you falter as you relayed to them that this bunker was a point of interest for Stitch due to it having information about a Projekt but that’s all you got, and they should take the chance and find out what it is before they leave to America. Mason heard German bunker and didn’t seem to need much more convincing and Woods, ever the comrade, didn’t need much either. Especially when you mentioned that agents could be down there trying to collect information too now that Stitch and Naga as well yourself have gone quiet and will be seen as KIA. “What are we waiting for than? Let’s fuck ‘em up!” Hudson was still suspicious, unsurprisingly, with his questions and implications of it being a ploy but the reminder from Adler that you could’ve killed him in those woods would make Hudson silent. It didn’t make his suspicious glare towards you lessen though.

They went inside the bunker, Mason leading with you and Adler next with Hudson and Woods behind. You finding the Nazi paraphernalia just as distasteful but the group was being loud, so it’s no surprise when they entered the only lit room within the bunker that the one inside stated he heard them, his British accent a comfort and his speech making one calm. It also helped his words of what he said to them, the man Captain Butcher and with the Vanguard. You recognizing the name as they all lowered their weapons, you in between Adler’s and Hudson’s side as the man began his story. About all the Nazi’s left. But as he spoke, the Captain kept glancing at you. As if searching your expression. You were confused as to why, until you finally found a part of the story of the Captain’s you couldn’t help but question. Ever the analyst.

“If there are these many covert operations happening, why haven’t we been informed?” Captain Butcher turned his stare at you, squinting his eyes slightly as if he didn’t expect you to speak. You felt Adler shift next to you, arm brushing yours as he adjusted subtly the hold of his gun, but didn’t feel his stare, nor Hudson’s. Seems they were wondering too. “This seems serious. The war wasn’t that long ago and yet there’s a chance of resurgence based on your words.”

“A Russian.” The man said instead of answering, your Russian accent mixed with the American able to be heard as he hummed curiously as he glanced at the others. “And here I thought you American’s will have your spats with Russia forever.”

You kept still but your eyes did slightly tighten at the reminder.

“That shit doesn’t matter,” Mason answered, stepping up slightly now that it’s been long confirmed the man before them is a friendly. “As long as we fight together for the same reasons to make sure the world we live in stays standing, we don’t care who’s from where.”

Captain Butcher chuckled, crossing his arms as he stood and threw a subtle nod in approval.

“No need to remind me. It wasn’t that long ago we all worked together. Us Brits. You Americans. And,” the retired SOE officer glanced at you, “and the Russians. Why do you think I shared the story about the Vanguard? Besides thinking I’m an old wanker desperate for listening ears, that is.”

His amused smooth raspy voice with that accent would make you calm, but his curious stare did not leave. The others noticing as well, Adler stepping slightly in front of you as he squinted his eyes at the Captain, your eyes almost meeting your once handler’s shoulder that would block your vision but you kept your eyes on the elderly scarred man.

Woods took a step forward, confrontational as always as his face formed into a slight scowl.

“What the fuck are you looking at her for than?” You noted that both Mason and Woods took your returning appearance easily. Well, easily compared to Hudson when it was clearly implied if you weren’t there at the grave site with Stitch, Adler would lay dead and they probably would’ve been too. That and all the work you did while with Perseus helping the CIA. You would say it was almost back to how it was before in the safehouse, except they seem to be more protective. You felt odd each time you noticed. Woods made a swooping gesture with his hand towards you. “All that talk about us being Allies once got your—your what, knickers in a twist?”

“Woods,” Hudson warned as Captain Butcher laughed goodnaturedly while Woods exclaimed what but Butcher just waved the comment off.

“Nothing wrong with jokes. It’s just been awhile since I seen that face, darling.”

You blinked, realizing he was talking to you.

“You know me?” You asked, incredulous.

“No, not you personally.” Your confusion grew, brows furrowing deep. “Your mother. Polina. Surprised you didn’t ask more questions about her.”

You felt yourself freeze, jaw hanging as you felt the others look at you just as shocked. Adler moved his gaze back towards Butcher, brows furrowed.

“Polina? Polina Petrova from the Vanguard? What makes you so sure that they’re related?”

Captain Butcher scoffed lightly.

“I’ve worked with the woman for years. That and have seen her files probably more than all the royal families. Despite you seeming to favor your father’s side, darling, I can recognize Polina’s face in you. That, and I heard the woman settled somewhere years ago. ” This time, his brows furrowed as he took in your slack expression. “Why? Don’t tell me none of you knew?”

“I—“ you felt tongue tied, the revelation making your head spin. “I was an orphan. No one raised me.”

You got that when you were with Perseus and the others. You, by yourself, finding supplies near a gulag to sell yourself. Just a child. A kid. One that Perseus picked up. You apparently didn’t share much even when you were young, but Perseus told you it was clear you were alone when you told him once you had no one to go back to.

Lady Nightingale? My mother? That can’t be true.

Captain Butcher didn’t help though, when he said that couldn’t be true before asking where you were born. With you stating Volgograd, which only seemed to hammer it farther when the Captain pointed out Volgograd used to be known as Stalingrad—where Polina grew up. And where the Captain heard she settled once more in the 50’s, him hearing from others that she had a child. You growing paler and paler when you recalled Portnova and Kitsune teasing you once that you were high and above them with you only being three to four years older than them in age.

1953. I was born in 1953. I was in Stalingrad. I have Polina’s face. Perseus saw me. He picked me up. I was his second. I was going to—

You took a stumbling step back, feeling nauseas at all the bits of past you never had before but all falling towards you now. Adler catching you by the arm and even Hudson putting a hand to your back as you felt breaths escape you, seeing from the corner of your eyes that Hudson and Adler shared a look. The both of them seeming to come to the same conclusion and realization you did.

This changes things, you distantly thought as Captain Butcher asked them if he could accompany them to the safehouse with the information he gathered and they can go on what to do next from there. Feeling stares on your person constantly even with Mason’s pat to your back and Woods making dark Nazi jokes promising their deaths to your ear, even you felt their glances towards you. The strongest stare being Hudson’s, which you can’t blame him. You never seem to be able to. This changes everything.

You raised your eyes to meet Adler’s grim ones, his eyes holding yours and having that knowing glint that made you look away with teeth harshly biting your bottom lip. His words at the grave site echoing in your ears.

“They were manipulating you.”

Perseus knew. They all did.

The trip back to the safehouse they had in Verdansk was quiet. Captain Butcher, not seeming to understand the somber serious mood and thinking it’s only because you felt abandoned by your mother a hero, said some additional stories to you about her. But this is so much bigger than being abandoned. The probable root cause of your dangerous loyalty. The others knew it too. So when they arrived to the safehouse, Mason and Woods quickly distracting Captain Butcher and helping him put the files down and make some calls to find out more about the bunker—Hudson and Adler took you to a separate private room where you sat with your hands holding your head with your elbows leaning against the table. The room being your interrogation room a few days prior, but it had a couch across the room from where you sat so you guess it can be a comfort.

But Hudson was a hound in a hunt, determined to get the game.

“You didn’t know? They didn’t tell you anything?”

He didn’t seem like he could believe it, but you couldn’t either as you kept your face hidden in your hands as you quietly said no. The man, who still had his war paint on and glasses free where you can see his tight eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose.

“This is fucking fantastic. Perseus managed to grab a hero of Russia’s daughter, a hero that helped the Allies and therefore us. The man may be dead now, but he knew what he was doing.”

You thought of kind pats to the shoulder and fatherly ones to your head. Your hands tightened on your head, slightly scratching yourself as your throat felt tight.

“Perseus had a fail safe,” Adler agreed, lighting up a cigarette with a click and blowing upwards as he stood more behind Hudson’s form who was across from you in the table, hands splayed on the wood. Adler was frowning deeply, staring intently at you as he took another deep drag in the dimly lit room, the fluorescent lighting above not as bright as it should be. “Able to have a war hero’s daughter for your cause will have anyone want to join it. Just mentioning how great of a soldier Lady Nightingale was in the war and having her daughter be related to her in your group. . . You have a certain pull that other groups and organizations that are like Perseus don’t have.”

A hero of Russia turned terrorist.

You have luck and irony laughing at your face with this.

A war hero’s daughter, to terrorist, to tool of America, to hero herself, to dying on the cliffs. You thought in bitter dark amusement as you stared at the grains of the table before lowering your hand as Hudson and Adler went back and forth on what this could mean and what having you in U.S. land could cause if Russia found out they have you. Whether captured for questioning or on their side. The effect you will have on the Cold War is huge. Adler always said I was the key. He just didn’t know how big.

“You guys must know now,” you toned, eyes staring ahead between the two men who turned to you, your body tense in the seat yet shoulders drooped as you shut your eyes. “This wasn’t how I wanted to say it. . .”

“Say what?” Hudson questioned sternly. You can tell his face was morphed into one of severe lines and narrow eyes. “You have something to add?”

You sighed loudly, mussing your hair as you opened your eyes half lidded as your eyes moved from the frigid Hudson to Adler’s inscrutable expression. Your eyes meeting his studying ones, the hand holding his cigarette keeping the stick a shadow away from his mouth pausing and twitching down and brow arching an uptick, before looking away back towards the couch across from you against the wall that was between their forms as your hand stayed tangled slightly in your hair.

“You guys know. I explained further what Stitch told Adler already. The ways of Perseus. The leader. How there’ll always be one. But this. . .this. . . what Captain Butcher said I—shit.” You chuckled breathlessly as you moved your gaze to the side, hand going over your mouth before saying the curse once more and lowering your to hold your chin. “This. . . is all kinds of fucked up. Ever since that airfield. . .” You turned your gaze to meet Adler’s as you nodded at him with a bitter smile. “You truly got lucky, Adler. You had Perseus all along. At least, the one meant to be before Stitch.”

The silence that followed was a tense thing. You maintaining your stare towards Adler to see a change.

You figured it out when you were with Perseus and the others. The connection of you being his second, the way Perseus spoke to you and the times you were before—you believing in his cause and the actions he did and just being the foolish loyal woman you are for ambitious men. “You put your faith in me, radnaya. The chance to make way for the path, the true path, of what Russia is supposed to be. No gulags. No suffering. Everyone equal.” He flashed an airy smile at you. “We still have much work to be done, my little mouse.” It wasn’t just him. If the others weren’t looking at you with gazes of sympathy or pity, you can spot the glint of deep respect there. Especially when you made an order or command to another for an assistance with a code, they easily fall and listen. And Stitch. . .

Well, Stitch always looked at you as if you were something more.

“You can carry the world, zaya.” He said, lips ghosting over your naked shoulder and leaving a trail all the way up to your neck, voice rough and low in your ears. “Just say the word, and I’ll carry it with you.”

Vikhor. . .I’m sorry.

You feel used and fooled, yet the memories with them, and the past ones they would share to you—you can’t help but look back on. It felt real.

And yet the safehouse did too.

As you stared at Adler, all he did was arch an amused brow at you with his eyes glinting to match along with a ghost of a smirk as he tilted his head at you.

“I got that almost immediately after I saw you in those trees, kid. Combine the information of what Stitch said and the fact of how high up you were in the Collective, well,” Adler took a drag of cigarette, blowing it cooly as he stared down at you and your troubled expression. “It didn’t take much thinking.”

“That is the exact reason we have to hurry back and sort all this shit with Black,” Hudson stated, crossing his arms as he had his narrowed eyes at you. You feared his reaction the most. Adler promised he wouldn’t kill you, didn’t mean others wouldn’t. Hudson than shook his head and released a heavy sigh. “This is just one thing after another. This complicates matters and muddies the water even further on where to go from here.” He than lifted his head and you were pinned beneath his glare, the war paint on his face just adding into how cold he looked as he came closer to your table and putting a flat hand to it. “You complicate matters. Do you understand just how much of a mess you’ve made?” He asked accusingly, harshly.

You can understand the hidden implications of what he wanted to say though.

Do you understand how your life has ruined so many others? A Perseus agent willing to kill millions. Meant to die and be swept under the rug only to go back to Perseus again. With the face of Russia’s greatest.

You bit your tongue, your shoulders straight as you met Hudson’s glare with a subtle sharp look of your own.

Adler broke the tension by telling Hudson to back off, there’s no point in going through these hoops again with you. The fact of the matter is you were one of them now and how to handle having Polina’s daughter with them to the CIA. And to of course keep Captain Butcher hidden about how you were before but you felt like that was a given, with Hudson saying that was an expectation while giving you another scathing look to giving one to Adler when the scarred man added that he was sure you would meet every expectation like before. You felt like Hudson had a sharp retort to that, but they got interrupted by Mason knocking on the door.

That was just yesterday, and now you’re here basically being guarded constantly but making it seem like nothing due to Captain Butcher’s presence. The British man can’t know who you were before. Thankfully, with the work he’s focusing with the covert Nazi operations and trying to track a suitable team for the job has been keeping him busy.

And you?

You’re just trying to make sure you’re of use. And if that means trying to juggle Perseus and this Nazi business. . .well. You always seen yourself as a multitasker.

Adler, who was silent as he thought about your question, moved and leaned against your desk by your chair and grabbed a paper you were writing on as you blinked.

“Let’s start with this.”

You glanced at the paper he took and was studying, leaning your back against the chair.

“That is one of the layout’s I was able to memorize during my time with them. A safehouse close to Kyrgyzstan,” you explained as Adler scanned through the paper before picking up another one, you easily switching the topic without him having to say anything. “Another safehouse we transferred to the Netherlands. In Emmen. We bounced around a lot. They were really careful when it came to not staying in one place for long.”

Adler hummed, looking at the drawn layouts of buildings and some parts where you had question marks if you weren’t able to fully explore the building.

“How many safehouses you went through exactly?”

“Seven,” you answered as you peered up at the man, observing how well he looked compared to days prior. Hair styled once more compared to how disheveled it was when you first saw him after three years. His beard trimmed but not shaved to the point of what you remember, with the slight shadow. You wonder what he would look like cleanly shaven. Your eyes darted to the papers he had in his hands when he glanced at you, hoping he didn’t notice. “Some stays were longer than most. But never a set building. I don’t think we ever went to a place that can be seen as the main headquarters. . .” You muttered almost to yourself, your suspicion of the others knowing only growing. Now only being muddled with the information you’ve learned.

You felt Adler’s stare at you at your last sentence but focused back onto the papers and over his shoulder to the desk to see the others you have.

“Are you still working on the others?” He picked up another paper, holding the information you know of the Perseus’ agent—Fuze. “And the other agents?”

“Yes and no.” Adler gave you an inquisitive stare as you moved on, tapping a finger against your desk and throwing the man a slight smile. “I’m waiting on what exactly we’re going to do from here after we go to America. I know you meant what you said, Adler. But that doesn’t mean Hudson or Black won’t like to see me flayed for being a commie bitch. Besides, we’ll have to plan accordingly on what we’re aiming for.”

You saw Adler’s expression turn unreadable outside squinting down at you slightly when you mentioned Hudson and Black, tilting his head down more to stare down at you and you took note that his hair moved with the movement to be more across his forehead. Adler lowered the papers back on your desk, hands leaning against on either side with the one closest to your side and your own hand mere inches away.

“You shouldn’t worry about those two, although I get it. Still, it would be more an advantage if they keep you.” Adler explained calmly and trying to meet your eyes but you were focusing on the computer screen once more. The Perseus letters flashing as you listened. “You’re too valuable, kid. Even without the knowledge of your parentage and who you are. You have knowledge no one else does, even though you think it may not be much. It’s enough.” Your gaze lowered, biting your inner cheek. You know all your value is in what you know, like before. Still. It stings. Seeing that he could catch your gaze, he sighed through his nose and gazed ahead, moving a hand to his dark pants to take out his box of cigarettes. “Besides, we might not even go back yet. You said yourself that those with Perseus were interested in the information in the bunker. Perseus being mixed with Nazi’s, it won’t bode well.”

You shook your head as Adler put the nicotine filled stick in his mouth, preparing to light it with his customary zippo.

“I doubt it’s for that. We hate those vermin like the rest of the world. . . they may be interested in these covert Nazi operations as a sort of inspiration, however. Perhaps use them for a time but kill them once they got what they wish. A Projekt that Captain Butcher mentioned or something.” You than glanced at him, the click of his lighter creating the flame as he lit the cigarette, frowning. “We shouldn’t stay here this long. We’ll need rest. You—” that got his attention as his eyes moved down towards yours as he took his first drag but you already moved your gaze towards his arms that were exposed, where you spotted the pale spot on his skin basically a week prior and where he looked exhausted despite his straightened shoulders. “You were recently deprogrammed, Adler. That. . . isn’t something to make light of. Trust me. And I understand. The longer we wait the more they can plan together now that. . .that Stitch and Naga are gone.”

You almost slipped that time. You do not think Adler will like you calling Stitch by his real name instead of his moniker. But it’s been getting difficult.

Still, you find this Adler an odd thing. He’s been acting different you noted. Not just with the stray touches the past few days, but his stares towards you were different. You felt like in the safehouse, with his glasses on his head, he would study you as if you were a curiosity that he wished to unveil. Intense in his assessment at times you recall, but closed off to his thoughts due to those shades that served as a wall. He was careful.

But here, without his aviators and his face being more open due to you being able to see his eyes, you can gather that he still wants to observe you. But it’s more considering looks, searching in a way where he always seemed to want to grab your chin to make sure their gazes can meet. His expression still being seen as apathetic to others but more languidly casual to you. Yet,  he’s turned rash.

Not to say you aren’t aware the man can’t be reckless with how he works. You still have your memories of Vietnam after all. Recklessness and impulsiveness may be needed for missions. It’s the difference of death or survival. So you are accustomed to his ways where others may deem his actions insane.

But the fact that he purposefully brought a light team to meet Stitch at the mall, knowing it was a trap yet not bringing or calling for backup, the way he easily went straight towards the mission after just being deprogrammed, how he didn’t pause to consider that Stitch may have backup in the forest with the grave site and went in alone, and how he wishes to even go even further without any rest or downtime. . .

He’s grown desperate throughout the years, you realize with another tap to the desk and in deep thought. Blinded to catch a mere whiff of Perseus where he throws his well-being and even others out the way. As long as he catches him.

But now he’ll never catch him. Because Perseus is dead.

Yet, not really. For there will always be another Perseus. A cycle that can be as never ending like how there is life, there will be death.

Adler couldn’t even be satisfied in another way. You stole his revenge to Stitch and even Naga from him.

But you found you killing them yourself was necessary. For if you didn’t kill Naga, he would’ve most likely killed either you or Adler next if you shot Stitch before him. And Stitch. . . You had to kill Stitch because. . .

“Mon zaya.”

Because. . .

. . .

You had to.

Did I ? What did I create if Adler beforehand was already hungry for blood? How far will he go now for just a drop of it in order to take Perseus as a whole down?

You would grow pale at the possibilities, if you weren’t a monster yourself. Loyal that you are.

The one who was willing to kill millions for one and save millions for another.

“He loved you. And you killed him. Did you?”

And who killed someone who loved you.

Adler’s voice echoed in your mind once more, the way his gaze seemed to bore up into yours in the forest. It was strange. The lighting on his face. For a moment, his eyes appeared green instead of blue.

“So you understand.”

Understand what?

This time, the Adler next to you leaning against your desk, spoke. His words making you start and eyes dart towards him.

“You loved him,” he said, tilting his head towards you and clear blue eyes on you with smoke trailing up from the cigarette in his left hand. You could only stare, silent. Words trapped on your tongue from the man’s hawkish gaze. He took a slow, steady drag, his next words being accompanied with smoke but careful to not have it go towards your face. “At least, in your own way. Even after finding out that they were using you. Tell me. How can you love a man like that?”

I love a man like you.

You kept your mouth shut, biting your tongue.

You didn’t bother being surprised at his observation. He can read you easily. He knows you more deeply than anyone. More than you know him, even though the only other who knows him as equal as you is Sims. And yet, you still can’t read his thoughts as well as he can do you.

You’ve long gotten over the frustration of that. Instead just feeling annoyed acceptance at the fact.

You wonder if he even knows what he’s asking. Because the way he set up the question, it’s not meant to be surface level and taken at face value. Which already answers enough.

For Adler always knows what he’s doing.

Seeing that you will keep your silence, your eyes lowering back to the papers on your desk and how close their hands are, Adler switched tactics. Using the ash tray on the shelves on your desk over you to tap his cigarette against it.

“Look at me, Bell.”

He’s been calling you by that name since the reunion. The others as well. And the stray touches he’s done has been more than a comfort than anything, so his fingers grazing your hand as he said that wasn’t to blame either. No. All you heard was his commanding tone, voice firm and you were transported back into the gurney with an equal firm touch to your jaw and you flinched. Pulling your hand quickly back to your lap, as if burned and your head bowed with gaze to your lap and heart pounding against your chest. From the corner of your eye, you could see Adler grew tense before he released a defeated sigh along with a quiet apology and snuffing out his cigarette as he said he’ll leave you to it.

He was gone by the time you raised your gaze and before you could think to stop him.

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A/N: I watched the Vanguard Campaign, saw Polina , and basically the whole time I was watching it I was thinking to myself that I hope she lives because that would give Bell an in canon familial relationship with someone.

It would also make sense that Perseus would want someone that is Polina's offspring. Really good for his brand. Now, Perseus is nice, but he was using Bell in a way. But he uses everybody. Just like everybody uses anybody. Still, that must've stung for Bell. Adler, like always, seems to know best.

And since I watched the campaign, and even before with that Pacific trailer--I've been thinking to continue this universe with Adler x Bell x Past!Stitch and just expanding it. I may have gotten out of hand but oh well. Expect the next chapter soon! This is for fun and for the anniversary of Cold War! Thank you to the OG's of this fandom, love you guys! <3

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

Adler did not think he would have a trying day today, with working on these files constantly for the past few weeks to catch Perseus, he was hoping for a small reprieve. At least away from the affect of that man and to the free world and taking up all his time and mind. Only once he finally gets home, locking the door behind him and calling out for you does he find you groaning and singing a nonsensical song about puzzles in Russian on the couch, all limbs everywhere and head nodding offbeat to your song and smelling like how he imagines Russians always smell when they’re not being intent on destroying the free world.

He sighed with lips quirked, walking up to you.

“What happened to you while I was out?” He noticed a note on the coffee table, seeing it was signed by Park that they had an outing and Bell went a little overboard with her and Rivas since it’s been some time they met up with one another. He chuckled, amused before dropping the note and squatting by your form with your eyes closed and hands moving like a conductor, his lips forming an affectionate smirk. “Come on, Bell. Let’s get to bed.”You blinked, blearily before tipping your head exaggeratedly towards him and squinting.

“Mmmm. . . ‘m not tired. You go,” you waved your hand at him in a shooing motion sloppily before it falling back to your stomach like dead weight. “дерьмо,” you cursed in Russian, the der’mo in a slur. “Heavy arm.”

You did go overboard today. You usually could handle the liquor.

“Come on,” he said encouragingly. “The bed would be more comfortable. I can count on it.”

“Mmmm. . .” You nodded. “Okayyyy.” You sat up, a little shakily. Adler moved to grab you to take you to the bed instead but you moved his hand away and shaking your head, muttering that you got this as you stood up with a slight wobble before moving to the stairs. Him behind you to make sure you don’t fall and ready to catch if needed.

Once they reached the bedroom they’ve been sharing the past year since you came back from your time in MI6. A wise decision in the end. You needed to keep your distance just like he had to. And not just from the CIA either.

“It was never personal.”

This is not the fucking day to think about this right now, Adler took off his jacket and began changing to sleep wear as you went inside their bathroom. Perhaps doing it a little roughly as he took off his shades, glaring at them before pinching the bridge of his nose and placing the glasses on the nightstand. He looked over to the bathroom and headed downstairs quickly. Can’t have Bell wake up too bad. Although it seems we both might be fucked up.

He came back with a glass of water and aspirin with some crackers, seeing you were still in the bathroom and placed the items on your side of the bed atop the table.

You were probably having trouble due to your state, Adler realized as he slightly mussed his hair before moving to stand up to knock only for you open the door, your own nightwear on being a white slip. When you still didn’t move from the door and only seemed to stare at him in bewilderment at his half naked form, he moved to lay down with an inviting smirk as he patted the empty space next to him.

“Nothing you haven’t seen before, sweetheart. Let’s go. I promise I’ll stay with you tomorrow to help you recover from the shitty hangover you’ll have. Sorry I couldn’t come sooner today, you know how it is.” When you still didn’t move and just furrowed your brows at the nickname of sweetheart, he decided to change tactics as he sat against the headboard. “I can call ahead tomorrow to have the next two days off if you want and not just tomorrow. Go see that movie that came out—what was it? Star Trek? Star Battle? Whichever one. I can use a break myself from all this.”

You raised your hands, motioning them back and forth in denial as you frowned.

“You’re handsome and all but no thanks.”

Adler blinked, slowly. Assessing. Came up blank.

“What?”

You moved to the foot of the bed, looking at the ground with a focus you have only for decryption as you answered.

“ ’m doin’ those thiiiings with the most handsomesssst man on the planet. моя любовь,” moy lyubov you said lovingly in a sigh.

You are completely out of it, Adler observed, his smirk forming into an amused fond smile as he leaned his head against his hand as he laid back on the bed and watched you gather extra blankets and placing them on the floor.

“Alright,” he said, he’s sure if you were sober you would hear his smug tone and call him out on it but you only did a distracted noise as you bunched blankets and towels down there. “I’ll bite. What makes him so better than what you have right here?”

It was as if a light was switched, you perking up with arms filled with blankets as you bunched them to your chest, eyes bright.

“Where to start?” You asked yourself, a smile on your face that made his eyes soften looking at you but his smug amusement did not fade. Your words continued to slur or you having to start back up again as you spoke. “His hair. It bounces like a мяч in the play place—play ground. Up and down when he nods or just—moves his head a kind of way. Like having it’s own разум. It’s so soft when I touch it—like wheat or melted snow because he’s slowly getting gray hair. I don’t tell him that.”

He’s not dyeing his hair. But the fact you don’t seem to mind the physical affect of his age made his chest warm as you kept going, putting a hand to your cheek.

“And his eyes. His blue, deep, strong eyes.” You practically squealed, hiding your face with the blanket and giggling as he chuckled with you at your innocent excitement. You peeked your eyes from under the blanket, your voice slightly muffled due to the blanket. “красивая. The most beautiful one’s I’ve ever seen. I could drown in those eyes and I would be okay with it when I first saw them, they’re so красивая—beautiful. Pretty. He always wears these ah—eh—the word. очки? оттенки? No—um, oh! Sunglasses!”

Your eyes lit in realization, moving to sit on the chest in front of the bed as you went on with adoration in your eyes that Adler doesn’t know whether to warm at or get uncomfortable just how much there was in your eyes for a man like him. After what he did. His eyes took a far off look as you stared down at the blankets on your lap.

“He covered them a lot. I always. . . wanted to see. He did it for a reason. So I couldn’t see. Even though I think he knew I wanted to.” You sighed, your lips than turning sad and Adler is getting a growing suspicion of why you drank so much today. “It took some время, but I saw them. But that’s not all—“

“You don’t gotta keep going, kid.” There it was. Guilt. “Come here. I’ll call tomorrow. I’ve been away from you too—“

You just went on like he didn’t even speak.

“мой Рассел.” You said in a breath, the Russian way you spoke his name always making him stop whatever he was doing and look at you. This was no different as he moved to sit up on the bed. “He’s—he’s a good man. He doesn’t think so, моя любовь.” Even the way you said “my love” kept his attention as you went on softy. “He does a lot. Makes me—has me—makes sure I’m safe. And I feel safe with him. Despite. . .” You stopped, frowning as you stared down at the blankets. Adler stayed where he was, rooted to the spot. He’s not sure he’s even breathing. “The world. It takes a lot from him. The world needs to be safe too. But he. . . he balances a lot. His work. Me. His work and me at once. Everyone always takes from him but when can he—he needs breaks too. I—“

You stopped, blinking as you looked around once more with watery eyes compared to before. Quickly standing up it almost made you fall over as you darted your eyes everywhere and having him sit in attention.

“Bell? What’s—“

“мой Рассел!” You said loudly, eyes meeting his. Filled with water yet determination and love he doesn’t deserve after everything but you give freely because they’re both insane apparently. “He needs me. I need to find him. It’s late and he’ll be worried and he’ll be alone again and I’ll be alone without him again and I—“

He stood up, walked up to you and tugged to him in one fell swoop. Wrapping his arms around your shaking desperate form as he shushed you quietly. His skin was gathering wetness but he doesn’t care, but you seem to as you shook your head and pushed him away and telling him you can’t cause you have Russell and he’ll be sad and you love him too much for him to be sad.

He pulled back a tad, grabbing your hand on his bare chest before going to the scar on his shoulder with a wry smirk he didn’t quite feel. Your fingers on the slightly concave part of his skin in a shape of a hole.

“It’s me, kid.”

You crinkled your brows, staring at the scar as you touched it gently. Softly. Pressing and grazing and your touch bringing chills to his spine but he did not move as he stared down at you.

You moved your reddened eyes towards his, connecting as your eyes widened. Relief.

“Russell!” You darted forward, wrapping your arms around him as you nuzzled him. Him taking a slight step back due to how strong you moved forward, but wrapping his arms around you just as strongly. Bringing you as close as possible as he put his chin to your head. You kept nuzzling him as if you could breathe and he could feel your smile despite having his chest hair in your face. “I missed you.”

He moved to put his mouth to your neck, giving it a soft kiss before taking in your scent.

“I missed you too, sweetheart.”

You pulled back a bit, putting a hand to his scarred cheek as you thumbed it lovingly as you stared at him the same way. He did not think such a look would make himself soften yet get a pang within.

You frowned for a split second at his subtly stricken eyes before giving him a comforting peck to his lips.

“What’s wrong?” You questioned.

Adler’s lips formed into a sarcastic smile.

“Just that you’re too good for me.”

“No,” you say, smiling softly at him as you rugged him to bed like he wasn’t trying to do the same to you earlier. “I think we’re in the same place in terms of good.”

Adler chuckled, you not letting go of his hand as you went to your side and he went to his before you placed your head on his shoulder and nuzzled once more, humming in content. You moved a hand to his shoulder with the bullet wound scar just as he had a hand of yours in your left shoulder.

“Glad you recognize me and it took the matching shitty scars we gave each other.”

You made a noise in the back of your throat, distracted.

“I’ll never not know it’s you, моя любовь.”

Adler laughed at that, making him shake and you pout as he did it before he quieted and pulled you to be on top as you squealed. You giggling happily and adoringly as you had your chin on his chest and had your shining eyes on him. Only him. Always him.

He leaned up to kiss you, you opening easily for him as he tasted you slowly. Reverently. The kiss saying everything he wishes to say but the words always stuck in his throat. You always knew though, as you put a hand to the hair you love so much and weaved your fingers through it.

He pulled away, gazing up at you as he rubbed your back in an up and down motion. You closing your eyes with a sigh as you laid your cheek against him to get comfortable, your body relaxed on top of him.

“We’re going to see a movie tomorrow.” You made a noise to show you were listening as he brought his lips to your head, grazing it as he spoke and giving it a peck. “After you recover though. Promise me you won’t drink like this again, Bell. I’ll see what I can do to not be away from you long.”

You lifted your head groggily, blinking slowly in confusion.

“I didn’t. . . didn’t drink because you’re always working. That’s stupid.”

Perhaps he was wrong than. It still doesn’t add up though. At his questioning look, you moved your eyes to the side and away. Before looking back at him and putting a hand to his scarred cheek.

“Don’t be sad.” You say and Adler already expects the worst. Was it the nightmares he gave you? It was hard at first to calm you when they decided to move in together, but you eventually always did if he shushed you and grabbed you to go on top of him. The irony not lost on him that only he could make you feel safe again. “I. . . the voices were loud today.”

It didn’t take long for Adler to connect it. The affects of MK-Ultra still affecting you, some days harsher than others. Today must’ve been bad if you got this far.

You kissed him before he could ask, a press of the lips to calm and to soothe. Of forgiveness and devotion.

You pulled away and you pressed your forehead against his.

“I’m okay now. I have мой красивый Рассел with me.”

Adler doesn’t think you will ever be okay. But he won’t ever be either. An insane couple meant for each other. So he just smirked up at you as he cocked a brow at you, hand behind his head.

“The handsomest?”

You huffed and kissed him instead in answer. And he met you. He’ll always meet you.

He’ll do whatever it takes for that.

.

.

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I can write fluff too. Don't worry! But some sadness is the standard with these two.

I have other works in my plans besides finishing For Whom the Bell Tolls, just be patient with that. Hope you guys enjoy!

Sorry if Adler was a little off here, did my best with his POV.

“Are you almost done on your end, Mason?!”

“Just about!” Mason called out to Sims, being hasty as he quickly put cans of food from the store within the bag as shots were filling the empty dark place, growls and snarls accompanying it along with bodies that would fall from Sims, you, or Mason if a stray grey rotting hand got too close to the Alaskan bred man. “You got it on your end, Bell?”

You were trying to distract the stray few zombies within the store, wishing to keep your distance and only wishing to use your trusty knife instead of bullets if you could. You’re wearing leather like Sims but you rather wish to not risk it on this run. You prided yourself in being cautious when you needed to be. Sims was by the doors of the store, guarding and trying to keep the stray zombies wishing to come inside as best he could. But corpses are attracted to noise despite how Sims was using a silencer. Their vehicle could only be so quiet.

You struck at a snapping corpse wishing to get your arm with your knife, digging into it’s eye with a squelching sound before quickly pulling back. Droplets of blood on your face and clothes from the motion as the body fell and with it, it’s dead scent. You didn’t care though, instead focusing on what else they may need.

Sims covered ammunition and medical. Mason food—whatever they can find. You also covered food, and anything that you believe could help in one way or another.

You checked the shelves once more and your bag with a quick scan, keeping mind of the three corpses stretching their arms towards you to get you as they stumbled on their legs clumsily. Unashamed. You imagine anyone would be if they were hungry.

You just happened to care that they’re hungry for your flesh, you thought darkly as you kept yourself moving and measuring the surroundings for anymore possible surprises.

They’ve already been gone enough. If anything, they can try to clean this store another time. The sun is starting to fall.

A dangerous thing.

“Might as well have,” you replied in a loud voice, from here you can see Mason nod as he moves around to your aisle, military bag that some might call a gym bag over his shoulder and zipped. You maneuvered around in a quick step to get rid of the corpses momentarily and began to move back to where Sims was. You seeing Mason doing the same, stray shots coming out of his own gun as they slowly made their exit from the well stocked but slowly dwindling store. You continuing from another stray stab to a zombie’s head, this time between the brows before you kicked it’s dead and heavy body back towards the zombies behind it—the corpses falling and making pathetic surprised snarls. “We can come back another time. They’ll just keep coming here if we stay here any longer.”

“Shit,” Sims drawled between shots, all dripping sarcasm and with sweat on his brow like you and Mason. “I’m all for that! I’m not here to become a fleshy buffet for them. Although I admit I always have been a leg man myself when it comes to food.”

You couldn’t help but smile at the dark joke and Mason didn’t either as he snorted as they slowly came closer to the front door where Sims stood guard, still dozens of feet away.

“You should know that breasts are always the best part, Sims.” Mason joked, a stray bullet getting into a corpses head as he passed a turned over shelf with open cans and ignoring the flies and ants around the turned over food. “In everything I imagine.”

“You guys are the worst,” you laughed along with their stray chuckles and apologies before being cut off when another handful of zombies seemed to appear, almost grabbing you by the bag which you promptly dodged. Doing a stray stab and shot to one before quickly moving as you put a hand to the bag you had over your shoulder protectively. Woods would kill you if he found out the tools he needed to fix his motorcycle were found by you only for you to lose it. Or rather curse at you. Firm yet warm hands on your shoulders as he would shake you and call you crazy with some sort of moniker. Before he would stop and take a real look at you, hands still on you and lingering. He’s been growing to do that a lot. And you don’t mind. Woods is different. You side stepped around a few more, Mason doing the same and trying to save his bullets as well, Sims making the doors slowly clear so you and a mason can pass through. “Alright, Sims! Get ready to start the—“

You paused when your eyes strayed towards the cashier counter to your right. A little off from the door and shadowed due to the growing lack of daylight. Behind the counter that you imagine the cashier could enter from the back without needing to jump over it, stood various forms of snacks and drinks. Little packs as well as some stray medicine but you didn’t focus on that. Just on the stray small box of carton that in the past young people would have to show their ID in order to get the craving.

You thought of shaky hands. Flexing often to hide it or using arms to cross to appear as if never shook. You thought of hands subtly crinkling your papers to hide it too as you carefully explained the still working plan. You thought of weeks of withdrawal.

You moved.

“Wha—Bell!” Mason called, seeing you dash past zombies to reach said shadowy counter and not going through the door. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?! We got what we need!”

You ran towards the counter, saying you missed something as Mason cursed(he curses a lot you realized when it comes to killing these things. You reminded yourself to never cross the man.) along with Sims but had your back of zombies decided to try to get you but were instead attracted to the noise Mason and Sims were making.

“I think she forgot the memo that she wrote about coming back another time!” Sims complained but they were doing good, a few stragglers of zombies were all that’s left.

Mason didn’t say anything, only strayed his eyes towards you as he held his gun to see you behind the counter after jumping over it. His eyes spotting what you grabbed with a narrow and his jaw clenching as you put it carefully into your bag. Only to seem to get distracted by something on the floor, your body jerking and Mason’s eyes widened as he ran towards you.

“Bell!”

You tried to pull away from the prone zombie that hid under the counter, it’s death grip tight on your ankle as you grunted to get it off. Before brandishing your knife with a whirl and killing it by putting it through it’s head twice. Sighing once only to be grabbed again from behind, pain radiating from your arm as two corpses pawed at you. Snarls and hot breath on your neck and face and drool coming on it before you elbowed them back harshly and shot them both. Your breath puffing, chest heaving and hair up everywhere.

You put a hand to your empty head, eyes on the ground before grabbing your beanie/ski mask and put it back. You looking at where the zombie grabbed at your arm momentarily before letting your leather jacket go over it protectively. Leather has it’s benefits.

You saw Mason growing near, but you nodded at him you were alright as you jumped over the counter. You and him quickly coming towards Sims, getting into the car and started the drive back to the safehouse. Until next time.

You felt Mason look back at you, you sitting in the back seat and looking past the decrepit scenery. You can feel Sims looking at you too by using his rear view mirror.

You moved a hand to your bag, putting a hand out with the cigarette carton in front of Mason as he slowly took it. You didn’t look away from the window.

“I didn’t grab that. You did. Or Sims. It happened to be near what we needed.”

“Bell,” Mason began in what you read to be his nagging as well as no nonsense tone. “You risked a lot for this. You didn’t see that meat bag—“

“I didn’t risk anything,” you cut in stubbornly. Looking at how they passed a graffiti building that said ‘No Way Out’ and the windows and doors were boarded up. You turned your gaze to meet Mason’s hard yet conflicted ones, seeming he wishes to say something but is holding back. “Promise me. Don’t tell Adler I got this. Sims, you got this for him. It was your idea.”

Mason slowly let out a breath, moving in his seat to face the front and rubbing a hand to his face as he leaned back. He seemed to be muttering about something but you couldn’t exactly hear it.

“I promise, Bell.”

He sounded tired but you’ll take it as you tried to find Sims eyes in the rear view mirror.

It was silent a beats passed and you didn’t waver. Sims stare on you as he seemed to try to read you and failing or just bewildered at what he’s seeing.

“. . . As long as I’m not the one who’s going to tell him who’s going to use the shower the longest today, sure. I gotchu.”

You relaxed your shoulders that you didn’t even know were tense, exhaling in relief before turning back towards the scenery. Even as Sims and Mason’s glanced at you often, you were oblivious.

You scratched at the places of bites in your nightmare.

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A/N: Took longer than planned but Happy Halloween! Guess I just don’t know how to write drabbles 🥲 It’s okay. I’ll do my best to finish this story.

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