A/N: And I'm starting another story. I know, I know. I still have From Failing Hands to update. I'm going to update that after this. I've just... well this story has been speaking to me and I now have about twenty two chapters. Anyway, enjoy!

DISCLAIMER: Not mine. Too tired to come with something more original.

***

Alex groaned. His head was killing him and his throat was burning. He needed water. His eyelids fluttered then closed again as dizziness overcame him.

An arm wrapped itself around his shoulders and lifted something to his lips.

"Drink," said a voice, as a hand came around and lifted his chin.

Alex gulped at the water gratefully. It was cold and sweet and slipped effortlessly down his throat.

The cup was taken away again, and he slept.

***

Wolf placed the drinks on the table and sat down, relieved to finally be able to relax. He and his team had just got back from three weeks training and had decided to go out for a drink to celebrate their safe return from hell. They were in Bear's local pub as it had, by universal agreement, the best beer, along with a friendly atmosphere and the apparently compulsory slightly sticky wooden tables.

There was a moment's silence as the four soldiers relished the taste of their pints. This, they felt, was civilisation. No wonder Beacons didn't allow it.

"Surprised you could join us, Eagle," commented Bear after a moment. "I would've thought that Rachel would have wanted you back as soon as."

Eagle shrugged. "Her sister's getting married. She's been dragged off to Vegas for a hen do. She won't be back for a couple of days at least."

"Vegas?" smirked Bear. "Sure you trust her not to pick up some stripper in a bar and get married by Elvis?"

"At least I've got a girlfriend," retorted Eagle, "The rest of you are pathetically single."

"If you can count Wolf as single with all those instant dates of his," said Bear with a wry grin. Wolf rolled his eyes and thumped his team mate as Eagle snorted.

Snake, however, hadn't responded to his team mates gentle ribbing and simply sat staring at the bar, a faint frown marring his brow.

"Hey, Snake," said Eagle, "is something wrong?"

Snake started and shook his head. "No, nothing's wrong. It's just..."

"Just what?" asked Wolf, slightly concerned.

"It's just... does that waiter look at all... familiar to you?"

Bear glanced around. "Oh, the blond one? That's Greg. He's been working here for about three months now."

"No, Wolf, Eagle, look at him!"

Wolf turned to look at the boy Snake was staring at, just as he heard an intake of breath from Eagle.

"Is that... Cub?"

"Cub?" asked Bear, confused. "As in that kid you told me about? The one who's daddy sent him to the SAS camp?"

Wolf grimaced at the misassumption. Gods, had he never told them? No, he hadn't. The entire team on the mission had been told that to mention that Cub was there was to lose their jobs.

He should have told them anyway.

The waiter did look a hell of a lot like Cub, but it couldn't be. Cub's name had been A- something, hadn't it? Alan or Ali or something... Jesus, how could he have forgotten the kid's name?

Greg was looking slightly unnerved now and he kept glancing at them suspiciously. Wolf suddenly realised that they had been staring at him for a good few minutes.

Hurriedly, he coughed and looked down at the table, but Greg was already on his way over.

"Friends of yours, Nick?" he asked Bear, picking up their now-empty glasses.

The voice was different from how Wolf remembered, deeper and somehow more weary. But then, it had been about two years since he had seen Cub last.

"Yeah," said Bear with a welcoming grin. "This is the rest of my unit."

"Oh, yeah. You're in the army, right?"

"Cub?" said Snake cautiously, as if the boy was a wild animal about to bolt.

Greg looked at him blankly.

"Are you talking to me?" he asked, obviously confused.

Snake frowned and didn't reply. Greg shrugged slightly, and turned to Bear.

"You want another round?"

***

The first thing Wolf did when he go home was call Fox. He had managed to convince himself that it had been Cub, despite the name. He looked almost identical and sounded so similar it could only be aging that changed it. But there had been no recognition in his eyes, no sign that he had ever met any of them before.

Wolf dialled the number and waited until his former teammate answered.

"Hello?" came the familiar voice. He sounded sleepy and Wolf suddenly realised it was close to midnight.

"Hey Fox, it's Wolf. Sorry about the hour."

There was the sound of a yawn being half-heartedly stifled on the other end.

"No problem," said Fox. "I'd have been waking up in a couple of hours anyway. Jet lag's a bitch."

Wolf winced. "Sorry. When did you get back?"

"Tonight... well, this afternoon really."

"And you can't tell me where you've been?" guessed Wolf, wryly.

"Nope, sorry mate."

Wolf smiled. Fox really must be tired to let that go without some sarky comment.

"So why are you calling at this god forsaken hour?" asked Fox.

"What?" asked Wolf, trying to sound offended. "I can't just call to chat?"

There was a snort on the end of the line. "Wolf," said Fox, patiently. "You don't 'just call to chat'. I've known you for forever and have never known you to 'chat' at all!"

"Ok, so there was a reason," admitted Wolf.

"Oh?"

"I was just wondering if you've heard anything about Cub recently. I know he works over there with you lot."

There was a pause before Fox spoke, his voice low and full of pain. "The last time I heard anything about Cub, was six months ago... at his funeral."

***

A/N: Please review and tell me what you think.