It’d been a few months since Jake’s tenth birthday. There was no fanfare, no friends to invite. He didn’t really like any of the other children crammed into the tiny schoolhouse. But his mother made him a small cake and sang to him in her high, sweet voice. She held his hand in hers across the table with the broken leg. So it was okay. It was all he needed.

He slung his bookbag over his shoulder and bolted down the stairs, listening to the chorus of creaks like gunshots that sounded after each step. His mother was at the bottom of the stairs, smiling weakly as he skidded across the carpet. She balanced the washtub full of dirty sheets on her hip, tilting her head to appraise him. He ran his hands over his little uniform self-consciously, tucking the corner of his shirt back in.

“Fix your collar, darling.” She said softly, then leaned down and combed her hand over his hair until it wasn’t falling in front of his eyes. He smiled up at her, pulling the edge of his collar to keep it even. She nodded approvingly.

“Make sure you eat something before school.” She called over her shoulder as he ducked under her arm and headed for the back door- only to stop with his hand on the knob. From the front of the house, he heard a knock on the door. Two quick raps in succession, then silence. He turned halfway, watching his mother set down the washing and unlock it, quickly, hands shaking. He wasn’t sure why she seemed so nervous, but she seemed near about ready to come to pieces right there in front of him, and all he could do was watch as she pulled the door open and greeted the people behind it. His legs felt stiff, rooted to the splintering floorboards.

Two men, tall and fair, were standing under their stoop, jackets wet with the torrential rainstorm that was currently threatening to turn the tiny house into matchsticks. The taller of the two was wearing dark, heavy sunglasses, completely covering his eyes. His hair was slicked tight to his skull with grease, and it gave Jake the impression of something alien, strange. His lips were thin and bloodless, pressed into a hard line. Drops of water rolled down his brow, dripped off the tip of his nose. The man next to him was just as sallow, but less angular. He had a small attaché under his arm. His eyes were uncovered, and they shone blue in the warm electric light from inside.

His mother was shivering, he noticed. Whatever had been holding him there evaporated, and he ran back down the hallway. The shorter man looked down at Jake as he wrapped his arms around his mother’s waist, pressing his cheek to her side and glaring up at them.

“Why-“ His mother started, reflexively bringing a hand to Jake’s shoulder. The taller man spoke first, his smooth voice making Jake’s teeth grind. He seemed smarmy, all false charm and insincerity. Jake disliked him immediately. He hated the way he tilted his head stiffly, the way his eyes seemed to glow through the glasses. He looked just like the rich bastards that traipsed through Jake’s little town on their way to more glamorous destinations.

“Hello, Ksenia. May we come in?” He grinned, all teeth. Who are you, to say her name?

“Mama-“ Jake looked up at her, and she glanced back down, face level, hands shaking where they were wrapped in the fabric of Jake’s shirt. The man turned to Jake, crouching down, each tooth in his smile just a tiny bit too long.

“Jakob. You’ve grown.” He chuckled, reaching out with a leather-gloved hand. Jake ducked away from his reach, pulling on his mother’s hand until she excused herself. He ignored the piercing looks from the men in the doorway. His mother guided them to the little dining room. Jake’s eyes skimmed over everything quickly, taking it in. There were pictures of him on the mantelpiece, a few of his mother’s sketches pinned to the wallpaper. A fruit bowl sat in the middle of the table, a few apples in the center. Jake and Ksenia barely fit in the space between the radiator and the table with its crooked leg, pressed together. Jake’s mother crouched next to him, a hand on each of his shoulders, gently squeezing.

“You need to get to school, baby.” She said softly. Jake bristled.

“I won’t leave you alone with those creeps-“ He puffed himself up, pushing his shoulders back and his chin up, trying to look as tough as possible. His mother laughed quietly, chucking his chin with her hand. He suddenly felt very small, looking back at the men on the stoop. Right now, he couldn’t do anything to help her. But later, he would. He’d grow up to be big and strong, and she’d never have to worry again.

“I’ll be fine. Please, just go.” His mother said firmly, reaching across the table and placing a shiny red apple in his hand. He ran his thumb over the smooth skin, looking up at her, trying to dissect her expression. He glanced over the wrinkles beginning to feather outwards from her round green eyes, the set of her jaw, the way her lip quivered. It was firm in his mind. He didn’t want her to feel like this ever again.

“Okay.” He nodded slowly, not knowing what else to say. She smiled at him then, reaching up to his head and ruffling his hair. It was a worried smile, more for him than herself.

“You don’t want to be late, now. Hurry.”

—-

Jake spent the day in school impatiently, fidgeting nervously with his pen, taking it to pieces and reassembling it as fast as he could. As it always was, this only made the minute hand on the clock above the chalkboard crawl by slower. He could barely believe it when the teacher set down her ruler and dismissed the class, but he jumped up immediately, shoving his things haphazardly into his bag and sprinting out the door. He heard Ms. C call out behind him, annoyed, but he barely registered it, putting all of his energy into leaping the schoolyard fence and turning down one of the side alleys. He didn’t care what anyone thought. He needed to get home. The thought of his mother, alone with those dangerous people (for he had no doubt they were dangerous, he felt it instinctively) was too much to bear.

He sprinted down the drive and took the front steps two at a time. His key clicked as he turned it, but the door was already unlocked. It swung open, hinges creaking. He could see straight down the hall to the back door, held open by a wedge of wood. In the backyard, his mother was hanging the white sheets on the criss-crossing clotheslines. The rain had stopped, and the warm sun and light wind was causing them to sway like golden-edged ghosts. The sky was a deep, clear blue.

She smiled when he approached, adjusting the final clothespin on the corner of a sheet with a free hand. The other hand balanced the washtub, full of the sheets she’d washed. Every morning, she went around and collected the washing from the neighbors, then cleaned and dried it. Every evening she went back around, exchanging the folded sheets and clothes for her salary. Jake reached her side, and stuck a hand into the washtub, pinching a clothespin between his teeth and reaching up on his tiptoes to hang the sheet from the line.

“How was school?” His mother asked, almost reflexively, like she did every day. Like everything was normal. For a moment, Jake forgot that it wasn’t.

“The same as always, Mama.” He chirped, trying to sound chipper. His mother knew how badly he was doing in class, she saw the report cards. He didn’t want her to worry about him, so  he swallowed the shame and they pretended it was fine until the proof surfaced at the end of the term. Was it his fault that the blackboard seemed to swim when he tried to concentrate and his mind was always going a million miles an hour?

“Hm. You’re working hard?” Ksenia asked, adjusting a clothespin for him.

“Yes.” He lied. His mother smiled gently, not quite believing it but resolving to try.

Jake glanced back at the house, to the light in the upstairs window. His bedroom. Had he left it on?

“Darling, there’s something we need to talk about-“ His mother’s voice was nervous, he could hear her quivering. He reached up and put a hand on her arm to steady her.

“How did you get those freaks to leave?” Jake asked, unable to tear his eyes away from the light in the window. He was sure he’d turned it off in the morning. Now that he was looking closer, he noticed movement behind the curtain.

“I... couldn’t. I gave them your room. It’s temporary.” His mother swallowed nervously, hanging the last sheet and crouching next to Jake, gently taking his hand in hers. Her eyes begged him to understand, to take this in stride, but he felt questions burning a hole in his brain.

“Who are they to just waltz into our lives-“ He spat, clenching his little hands into fists, feeling his nails dig into skin. His mother sighed.

“You’ll understand when you’re older. Some ties can’t be severed so easily.” She said simply. But Jake knew there was more to the story. She couldn’t lie, not to him. He knew her too well.

“I’m old enough! How can I protect you if you won’t even tell me-“

“He’s your father.” She said suddenly, and the admission hung in the air, heavy like something alive. Jake could feel his mouth drop open.

His entire life he’d wondered who his father was, ever since he learned that making a baby takes two, that most children had a mother and a father. There were exceptions, of course, he knew about Livya, who had confided in him that she lived at home with two mothers, instead. They’d moved out of town when he was seven. Someone had found them out.

It hadn’t been exceptionally important- he loved his mother, and he’d never missed the presence of a father. As far as he was concerned, they were overrated. But he wasn’t immune to curiosity.

“His name is Albert Wesker.” His mother said slowly, tripping over the unfamiliar American name.

“Which one?”

“The one with the glasses.” The tall creepy one. Jake was sure that man slept standing up. With his eyes open, like a shark. He couldn’t imagine him speaking tenderly to anyone, let alone his mother. “The other one is named Herzeg.” She finished, glancing up at the window as if afraid they could hear her.

“Do you love him?”

“I... don’t know how not to.” She paused, breathed in. “I met him when I worked for his pharmaceutical company. He was... charming. I think that’s where you got it from.” She reached over and pinched his cheek. Jake scowled but didn’t push her away. He was too close to the truth. Better to not risk it.

“I don’t love him.” He said flatly.

“I don’t expect you to. He doesn’t expect it of you either. Albert was never really a man for emotions of that kind.” His mother smiled sadly, crossing her arms over her chest, hugging herself. Jake felt something in him snap. His first time hearing about his father, and he was just some no-good freak who didn’t have the stones to treat his mother properly.

“I think he’s a coward, leaving you all alone with a baby. Just a stupid, creepy coward with horse teeth-“ He could feel his voice rising, feel his lips curl into a grimace. He wanted to march up to his room and... what? Hit him? Cuss him out? Could he even do anything? His mother must have been following his train of thought, because she looked at Jake nervously.

“Please, Jakob. Just promise me you won’t fight with him.” She gestured for him to keep his voice down, glancing at the window again. A cloud skidded over the sun, and the wind rose, making the grass at Jake’s ankles rustle. Suddenly, it was cold. His mother began to shiver almost immediately. She’d always been frail, sensitive to hot and cold. Jake stepped up to where she was kneeled, wrapped his arms around her shoulders. She lifted her hands and locked them behind his back. He rested his cheek on the top of her head and whispered,

“Why? He’ll fight back?” His mother shook her head, he could feel her hair brush his arm.

“His friend is... protective. Albert won’t hurt his son, but Herzeg might.” Jake nodded. He wasn’t strong enough, yet. But he would be. And anybody who tried to hurt her would have to go through him first.

“Okay, Mama. For you.” He said, gently.

—-

They stayed for a week. Wesker and Herzeg mostly kept to themselves, playing with the chemistry set they’d set up on Jake’s desk. At night, curled up in his mother’s tiny bed, he’d listen to her rattling breathing. Sometimes, he could also hear the men talking through the thin walls. Their conversations were in English, and they spoke fast, so he could only get some of it. He picked out phrases and conversations between the big science-y words.

They were on the run, hiding like cowards from American authorities. They had precious cargo in their little suitcase, vials crammed full of deadly viruses.

“How’s the Hidalgo virus coming?” Wesker’s voice was flat. Whenever he spoke, it was always emotionless, dead.

“The mutation rate still isn’t high enough. We need to up the reproduction speed. It’s dividing at maybe two, three times a second.” Herzeg replied.

“Too slow.” Wesker snapped.

“I know that.”

“Then make it work. I won’t see this project fail. Clear?” There was a thud, like something being thrown to the ground. Jake flinched. Behind him, his mother stirred, sighing quietly.

“... Yes. Of course, sir.” Herzeg spoke again, quieter. Nervous.

They were manufacturing diseases. Making people sick. Jake listened to them bicker and threaten for a week, barely able to sleep. He was up all night, jittery with nervous energy. He was half expecting one of them to walk through his mother’s door and- Well, he wasn’t sure what would happen after that. Wesker didn’t seem the type for random acts of violence. He preferred to kill people without even touching them- by infecting them with a virus and watching them wither away. Like everything else he did, it was cowardly.

Jake hated him most for that.

—-

The week passed with very little contact and no incident- much to Jake’s surprise. Just like that, they left one day while he was at school.  He came home and his mother had made biscuits. Fall was coming on quickly, and a cool wind made the back door rattle in its frame. They spent the evening on homework, then played cards with Ksenia’s battered deck. Life was back to normal, just how it should be. His father was gone, never to return. He didn’t miss him. He’d gone ten years without a father. Everything would be just fine without him.

How was Jake supposed to know that two weeks later, his mother would fall ill?

—-

“Wait. Stop. I know him.” Jake sighed, raised the walkie to his ear. There were a few background noises, nothing distinct.

“What?” Piers looked at him sharply.

“That man. He’s a friend of Wesker’s-“ Jake started, but from the speaker of the radio came a loud bang, something hitting the ground hard. Piers was still looking at him, like he was asking for answers, but Jake couldn’t give them right now. Not when Sherry was in danger. He needed a plan before Herzeg found out that Sherry and Helena were on the wrong side-

Oh. There was an idea.

“I know what we have to do, but there’s no time to explain. This guy isn’t really the type to take prisoners.” Jake glanced down the hallway again, nervously. The radio was silent,  for now.

“If you think I’m just going to run in there blindly-“ Piers started, crossing his arms and glaring up at Jake. Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath. Keep your cool. Even if he’s being a prick.

“I can fix this, but you gotta trust me, okay?” Jake put on his best negiotiation voice, stepping back towards Piers and putting a hand on his shoulder. Piers didn’t seem convinced.

“You’re really pushing it right now, Jake.“ Piers snapped. He was pushing it, he knew. But what else was he supposed to do? He’d spent all this time trying to get Piers to trust him, but trust had to be earned and Piers was stubborn to boot. Jake lifted his hand from Piers’ shoulder, and pressed his palm to his cheek. His thumb drew a line across Piers’ cheekbone, fingertips brushing his short-cropped hair. Come on. Clock’s ticking.

“I swear I won’t let anything happen to you.” He said softly, watching Piers deliberate, biting his lip and looking to the side, at the video camera feed from the first floor. They were closer than he’d thought, he could hear Piers breathing measuredly, in and out. Jake knew the urge to just say fuck it and kiss him probably ranked high on his laundry list of stupid and reckless things he’d done, but he couldn’t help it. In that moment, he just really needed Piers to trust him, and it was torture watching him think on it.

Luckily, Piers started to speak before Jake could do anything he’d regret.

“I can’t fuckin’ believe I’m saying this-“ Piers reached up, curling his fingers around Jake’s hand on his cheek. Jake’s heart skipped again, just to spite him. He hoped Piers couldn’t hear it. “Alright. Lead the way.” Piers sighed after a moment, letting their hands drop. Jake nodded quickly and they ran down the hallway, stepping together in time.

—-

“If everything goes south, I’ll give you my gun. It’ll probably be a bit of a scuffle, though. Are you gonna be able to hit him?” Jake muttered, tilting his head to listen to the radio. Quiet conversation. Nobody was fighting- not yet.

“I don’t miss.” Piers said evenly. Was he bragging? It was always hard to tell with him. He got the message, though. Prodigy sharpshooter. Did he have to get a big head about it?

Jake nodded as they approached the closed door. Behind it, he could hear Herzeg’s voice. He gave the signal, and Piers reluctantly turned his back to Jake. Jake wrapped his hand around Piers’ wrists, holding them together behind his back. It was important that he look like a hostage. Jake didn’t want to think about what’d happen if Helena and Sherry’s captors didn’t buy his ruse.

“Just follow my lead.” He said, reaching over and pulling the door open. He shouldered into the room, quickly looking everything over. The first floor control room was in disarray, papers and files tossed in every direction. A few chairs lay upturned in the mess. At the far end of the room was a long desk, covered in computer monitors. A back door led outside. Sherry and Helena were standing near the desk, and each of them had an Umbrella operative behind them, pointing a very large gun. Jake swallowed nervously. At least they weren’t hurt. Nearby, Herzeg stood, looking just as scary as the day they’d first met. He’d clearly updated his look, a neat suit and polished loafers. A tiny red and white umbrella was pinned to the lapel. There were 4 Umbrella cronies in total, though two of them looked less like security and more like a science detail, if the starched white lab coats were any indication. He cleared his throat and yelled,

“What the hell is going on here?” His voice carried across the room, and everyone looked up. Sherry’s face brightened when she saw him, barely able to keep down a smile. I’ve got you, Supergirl. Helena looked annoyed. Probably thinking he’d taken his sweet time. He couldn’t blame her.

“Jake Muller. You’ve-“ Herzeg started to speak. Jake was already sick of hearing his voice.

“Yeah, yeah. I’ve grown.” He interrupted him, pulling his best sneer.

“Is that-“ The goon holding Helena piped up, tilting his head and squinting at Jake.

“That’s right. Wesker the second. I’d say you have about five seconds to tell me what you’re doing with my prisoners before I lose my fuckin’ patience.” Jake hissed, glaring each of them down. Helena glanced at Sherry, eyes wide. Sherry nodded her head. Jake hoped that meant for her to trust him. Helena didn’t seem convinced.

“They were breaking in, stealing data-“ Helena’s captor spoke again.

“And I had it under control. Do you wanna explain to your boss that you ruined my sting operation, or should I?” Jake shot back. Herzeg looked pleased. Jake felt a little sick, but there were more important things at stake than some creep thinking he’d decided to take on the family business.

“Uh-“ The crony looked confused, glancing at Herzeg for help. He just smiled that sharp smile of his and said nothing.

“Shut up. I didn’t want that question answered, dumbass.” Jake rolled his eyes.

“How are we supposed to know you’re with us? I’m gonna need papers, Umbrella ID, something-“ One of the scientists pushed forward, setting her hands on her hips and fixing Jake with a suspicious look. Guess not all Umbrella workers were brain-dead.

Fuck. Jake hesitated, words failing him. In front of him, Piers tilted his head. The room was completely silent for a moment, the woman glaring at Jake, and the rest of the group slowly starting to look at him suspiciously. Fuck, Jake, think of something-

Before anybody had a chance to speak, Piers brought his heel down on the top of Jake’s foot, hard. No, no, not now- Jake yelped, and his grip slipped open, freeing Piers’ hands. Piers turned around fast- Fuck, when had he gotten so fast? Jake felt a fist connect with his cheek, and then a kick right to his sternum. His ribs exploded with pain, and he crumpled. The force made him stagger backwards, slamming into the back wall. The second hit hurt so much he forgot how to breathe for a second. His head was swimming, but he could see Piers more or less clearly. He wasn’t even looking at him. Jake had hoped this was all some elaborate ruse, but it was looking less and less likely. He’d fucked it up- the plan, Piers, everything.

At least it was a familiar feeling. Right now, with Piers hating him, he knew where he stood.

Behind them, by the computer desk, Helena whipped her head backwards. She collided with the Umbrella security, and he yelped, clutching his nose on instinct to stem the flow of blood. Jake would’ve laughed if his ribs didn’t hurt so fucking much. She’d broken his nose. Helena turned around quickly, yanking the gun out of his hands and cracking him across the face with the grip. Just like Jake, he fell.  In the commotion, Sherry also managed to wriggle free, pulling her guard off-balance and securing his weapon. Helena turned the barrel of the rifle towards the rest of the Umbrella goons, and Sherry did the same, breathing hard. Three pistols were immediately pointed in their direction, and the room was quiet again, everyone locked in an uneasy standoff.

Jake realized that Piers was right above him, reaching deftly into Jake’s holster and grabbing his pistol. Was it just the head trauma, or did Piers look like he wanted to say something? His hand brushed gently over Jake’s shoulder as he stood.

“I always knew you were a traitor. Didn’t buy the “reformed” shit for a fucking second.” Piers spat, rolling his eyes and stepping back. Even through the throb in his ribs and the headache building behind his eyes, Jake could feel his stomach drop. Maybe before this wouldn’t have hurt him so much, but now all he could think about was that look on Piers’ face, all of last year’s hatred and anger returning in a flash.

One of the Umbrella operatives was sprinting towards him, but Piers spun on his heel, pointing the pistol at Herzeg’s head. The Umbrella guy stopped in his tracks, eyes flickering from Herzeg to Piers. Herzeg grimaced, dropping the pistol in his hand. It clattered on the tile floor, startling Jake.

“Move and he dies.” He said calmly.

“You can’t shoot all of us-“ The woman who’d questioned Jake before spoke up. Her words were certain, but her tone was not. Piers laughed.

“You wanna try me? This is a semi-automatic Colt 45, and I have a firing rate of about half a second. Plenty of time. And, oh-“ The gun clicked as Piers pulled out the clip, checking the number of bullets. Quickly, before anybody could move, he snapped it back in. “A full magazine. Thanks for that, Jake.” Piers glanced over at him, a sarcastic smile flashing over his face. The Umbrella operative that had tried to reach him before did so again, barrelling forward, trying to snatch the gun out of Piers’ hand. Piers glanced at him, annoyed, and fired a shot at Herzeg. The bullet grazed his cheek, sizzling over his flesh and leaving a half-cauterized mess of a cut. It buried itself in the wall, less than a quarter of an inch from his ear.  Again, Herzeg’s crony stopped. Piers rolled his eyes. All this confidence and bluster might’ve been hot if Piers’ anger wasn’t also directed at Jake.

Actually, who was he kidding? It was hot anyway.

“Try that again and I won’t miss. Clip holds seven, and I’ve fired one.” He paused, raising his free hand, pointer finger bouncing up and down as he performed a quick count. It started with Herzeg, and ended on Jake. “You’ve got six people. Can any of you count, or do I need to spell it out for you?” He chuckled quietly at his own joke. The Umbrella operatives glanced between each other, all of them looking downright terrified. Except for Herzeg. He was smiling, all teeth.

“What are you waiting for, idiots? Go!” He yelled after another long second of silence. The group stumbled over each other to pick up their unconscious friend, and Sherry reached forward, pushing one of them hard with the barrel of her gun.

“We’ll meet again. Jake, come on. I’ll get you caught up at Base.” Herzeg paused at the door after everyone had filed out, fixing on Jake with a grin. Jake’s head was still a little fuzzy. What the fuck was he supposed to say?

“Not so fast. This one’s mine. I figure I’m owed his life.” Piers spoke before Jake could come up with a good lie. Wait, what? This was a little much, even for Piers. If he thought Jake was a traitor, why’d he want him to stay?

“Killin’ him’s a waste of perfectly good genetics-“ Herzeg started, growling at Piers. He put a bullet in the doorframe next to his head. Herzeg stared at the little hole, the cracked plaster, and decided it wasn’t worth it. He turned tail and followed his team across the parking lot, as fast as they’d come. Piers watched him go, pistol held ready in his hand. In a few seconds, they’d hauled it through the gate and turned down the alleyway, out of sight. Piers nodded to himself and turned around, fixing his gaze on Jake. His hand reached out behind him and pulled the door shut. Helena rushed to lock it, slam the deadbolt home. Piers’ face was unreadable. Jake started to speak, hoping to explain before it was too late.

“Listen, Piers-“

Piers set the gun on the table and almost ran to Jake. Jake flinched, hands coming up to protect his face. Piers dropped to a knee and threw his arms around Jake’s shoulders, pulling him into a hug. Jake froze for a moment, unable to process. Only for a second, though. Quickly enough he decided he wasn’t misinterpreting it, and he wrapped his arms around Piers’ waist, hugging him back. Piers’ nose was pressed to the crook of his neck. He could feel the quickened pulse in Piers’ chest, up against his. It also made his still-tender ribs burn a little bit, but he ignored it. He had a feeling this was rare for Piers, and he planned to enjoy it as long as he could. They were okay. Alive, and still friends.

As always, Piers pulled back first. He looked Jake up and down, worrying over the tiny split in his cheek.

“You’re okay, right? Sorry about your ribs, but I had to sell it. We might still need your connection to Umbrella. I doubt we’ve seen the last of them.” Piers’ hand went to his side. He looked genuinely apologetic. All that animosity was for show, then? Jake grimaced. In another life, Piers would’ve made a great double agent. Jake was just glad to be on his side. Piers turned, looking around the room. He found what he wanted in a moment, a little first aid kit nailed above the entrance. Sherry caught him looking and brought it down, tossing it over. Piers caught it deftly and clicked it open, rummaging through the contents.

“‘S fine, on account of the whole ‘saving my sorry ass’ thing. Try not to make a habit of it, though.” Jake sighed, watching Piers dump a box of bandages and a plastic-wrapped roll of gauze onto the floor. He glanced up and smiled at Jake, just for a second.

“I was sure we were goners.” Sherry piped up, glancing nervously at the computer screen atop the desk, watching the download continue. Piers had finally found what he wanted, and Jake heard a crack as he twisted the ice pack, hard. Sherry popped her head over his shoulder and knelt in front of Jake too. Piers lifted the ice pack to Jake’s ribs and held it there. He reached over with his free hand and grabbed Jake’s wrist, guiding it upwards to rest on top of his. They held still like that for a couple seconds. Piers looked stern, but his eyes were softer.

“Keep that on. You should’ve done this before.” He nodded to Jake, pulling his hand back. Jake kept the pressure on his ribs.

“You betcha, Doc.” He winked. Piers went a little bit pink around the ears. He stood up quickly and walked away,  heading down the hallway to where they’d stashed their bags.

“They didn’t hurt you?” Jake turned to Sherry, who shook her head, smiling sheepishly.

“Down, Jake. I’m fine. Helena stalled them.” She said cheerily, glancing back at Helena. She was talking to Piers, comparing notes on their respective maps.

“That Private Nivans is something, huh?” Sherry raised her eyebrows, tilting her head at Jake. Jake laughed quietly, reaching up with his other hand to gently sock her in the shoulder.

“Subtle.”

“I’m just saying! I didn’t expect you to be getting along this well- or, really at all. It’s sorta a miracle that neither of you’s killed the other yet.” Sherry shrugged. She wasn’t wrong- they had beaten the odds a bit. It was strange, remembering their arguments when he’d first seen Piers on that balcony. It seemed like such a long time ago.

“We’re at a point where it’s get along or die, you know? This antivirus is bigger than both of us.” Jake glanced over at Piers and Helena. They’d raided the filing cabinet and were now jabbing pins into their maps, having some sort of argument.

“You’re right, Jake. And that’s big of you guys, settin’ aside your differences for a good cause.” Sherry smiled, reaching over and giving his shoulder a gentle squeeze. “But it helps that he’s cute.”

“Sure does.” Jake grinned back.