Leaning against a wall, you had your arms crossed and stared into the distance. Your eyes wandered over the dark surface of the water.

The silver light of the moon got caught in it.

Woods and Mason were getting rid of a few traces that the operation had left.

Adler was standing next to you, smoking, as always. Just like you, he watched from the shadows, unable to relax.

Sometimes you wondered if he was able to ever calm down or if he was always on edge.

"What are you smiling for?", he suddenly asked and glanced at you from the corner of his glasses. "Pleased with the outcome?"

Smirking, you turned to him and let out a deep breath.

"I feared I wouldn't be of help to you.", you chuckled. "But I guess some things will never slip my mind."

He took a deep breath from his cigarette, the tip lit up in a fiery orange, before offering it to you.

You accepted it. You weren't much of a smoker, but the time in Vietnam had taught you to take everything Adler offered without questioning it.

He rarely shared anything, especially not his precious cigarettes. But once he had realised you didn't smoke but needed something to calm the nerves, he had offered you some sort of cheat code.

You never smoked an entire cigarette, never lit one yourself. You just took the rest when he offered it to you.

A weird form of trust. But one that you couldn't shake off anymore.

"You did good today.", he assured you. "Don't worry too much."

You took a deep breath. The smoke scratched inside your lungs.

"That's rich coming from you, shades.", you gifted him a soft smile. "Sometimes I think you never worry. But at the same time you're always tense. You don't worry, you don't relax. Say, what do you do?"

Pressing his lips into a thin line, he turned his eyes away again and shrugged.

"Serving my country."

"How noble."

The left corner of his lips twitched. It was the hint of a smirk.

"Is that sarcasm I hear?", he asked but didn't sound offended at all.

You huffed and took the last drag of the cigarette before throwing it away.

"I pity you sometimes.", you sighed and walked up to him to grab his face with both hands. "So much effort for so little thanks."

His lips curled, but he didn't pull away.

Your eyes wandered over his face for a moment. The tips of your fingers stroked the scarred side of his face. It felt smooth, only to be interrupted by small strands of hard, rough scar tissue.

"Looking for something?", he asked and shifted so that you two were directly looking at each other.

You shook your head.

"It healed well."

His eyebrows moved. He tilted his head so you had a better view of it in the dark.

"Someone did a good job taking care of it."

A soft chuckle made you light up.

"I doubt that my lousy first aid helped."

"The doctors said if you wouldn't have cleaned and treated it so well for the first few hours, I would have lost half of my face."

"Hm.", you curled your lips, unsure what to do. "Then I'm glad I was there."

You wanted to pull away, but all of a sudden his hands reached out to cover yours.

He had big hands, with long fingers and always clean nails. Just like his arms and probably also the rest of his body, they were covered with hair. At least the part where his wrists ended.

Somehow, this had been a thing you had always liked about him.

He was hairy, manly. But despite that he always kept himself well groomed, prim and proper, with a shaved face and styled hair.

You smiled and wanted to pull away.

He probably just wanted your hands on his face to remember past times for a moment.

But he didn't let go.

"Those memories still stick with you, don't they?", Adler asked out of the blue.

Struck by surprise, your let out a snort.

"Can they even be forgotten?", you asked back with all the bitterness you felt for this stupid war.

"No. But you can survive them."

"I am. Right now I live. I survived the memories with every day that I wake up. And I'll survive many more."

"I'm sure you will, angel. But don't forget what we all did this for."

Again, you had to huff. This time mainly because you wanted to fight back the goosebumps that the old nickname made grow all over your body.

"Don't call me that.", you pulled back, grinning. "I know we do this for freedom and our way of life and what not. But would it be too much to ask for to take a bit better care of the people that do the unpleasant work?"

He let out a hum.

"I would do it again every day.", he said and tried to fix his glasses.

You rolled your eyes.

"I know.", you pushed the shades back up with two fingers. "But don't you ever just want to rest and think about nothing? Like... nothing at all?"

For a moment, he looked at you.

Somehow, this silence made you shiver.

It wasn't an unpleasant silence, but the kind that was created when two people just fundamentally understood each other.

"I don't even know if I still can do nothing at all.", he admitted and turned his eyes back to Woods and Mason. "I didn't do that in a long time."

His words made you sigh.

"The last few years showed me what I could have had if Nam wouldn't have been.", you said. "If the CIA wouldn't have been."

"Carful with such things."

"I know. All I'm saying is that I'm loosing myself, Russell. The person who I really am. And I don't know if I like it."

Again, he turned to you. But this time he didn't just stare. His hand reached out to grab you by the shoulder and pull you into the shadows so nobody could see.

"You snapped right into it, today.", he whispered. "You didn't change a bit. And I'm glad. If you're afraid to loose yourself, stay by my side and be my partner again. I'll remind you who you are. Always."

A bitter smile appeared on your lips.

What a strange thing to say as someone who didn't even really knew your true colours.