A/N: Hey everyone, here's the sequel, hope you enjoy :)

IMPORTANT: Do not read this fic unless you have read Scorpia Rising or you will be in for massive spoilers!

Tears trickled down his cheeks in a silvery torrent, unable and unwilling to be concealed. People were shouting outside the door. He couldn't hear them and he didn't particularly care what they were saying in any case, even as the screaming got closer to his room . . .

The door crashed inwards and Alex jumped, turning to face the man standing in the doorway. He felt his load lighten almost instantaneously. Wolf panted slightly, a small flush surfacing in his cheeks, as if he'd sprinted the entire distance between London and this modest countryside manor to be reunited with Alex. He wouldn't have been surprised if that was the case.

Without a word, the soldier stalked across the room in three brisk strides, threw himself down on the bed and dragged Alex into his arms, the boy's wet face pressed into his shoulder. A shuddering sigh ran through the teenager. He freed his arms just enough to wrap them around Wolf's middle and felt the man tilt his face down so the lower half was nuzzling the disarray of his blonde hair.

They remained like that, motionless, until Alex ended the silence with a choked, broken whisper, "She's gone."

Wolf's arms tightened a fraction and he began to sway slightly, gently rocking Alex back and forth, as if to sooth a frightened child. "I know."

Alex sniffed. A tear ran to the end of his nose and fell off, landing on Wolf's shirt and leaving a dark smudge in its wake. A horrible, terrible thought crossed his mind. He couldn't prevent himself from asking it and when he did, his voice was small and fraught, "You won't go too, will you?"

"No. Never." His voice was deep and soothing in its warmth, filled with sincerity. But that wasn't right – he did go away. He was taken away, wasn't he?

"Alex!" The tone was familiar. There was someone next to him, taking hold of his arm, pulling him away from comfort and love, from Wolf –!

"Alex!"

The boy jerked in his seat, his head brushing roughly over the car window, furthering his sense of disorientation. Eyes wide, he turned to face Sabina. She was still holding onto his arm, squeezing it in concern, staring him down. "Are you all right?"

Blinking rapidly, Alex cleared his eyes, trying not to yawn. He rubbed his free hand through his hair briefly. Glancing in his reflection, he saw a red mark on his cheek where he'd fallen asleep with it resting in his palm. "Yeah, I'm okay, Sab." He gave into the yawn, scratching half-heartedly at his neck. "How much longer have we got?"

"Just another half hour or so, dear," Liz Pleasure called from the passenger seat. Alex shot her a quick smile before turning to look back out at the scenery.

Night was on its way, the sky outside emitting a mix of sharp orange and watery pink light. Resisting the urge to sleep again and feeling a slight headache coming on from the unexpected nap, Alex leant back into the luxurious texture of the back seat, folding his arms over his chest. Winter was late in coming this year, the early November air only just beginning to cool down, but even so, night was always chilly out here. They'd arrive at the Pleasure's home soon enough and then he could curl up and sleep properly. Perhaps he'd even be able to return to his previous dream.

Why had that particular memory come to him this time? It never had before. If it wasn't a nightmare about Jack's fate, it was happier times, days spent in the kitchen with her or on their many outings together. And with Wolf . . .

Alex tried to clamp down on the thought of his previous guardian with all his mental strength and quickly realized it was an impossible feat. He missed him. It was with no small amount of guilt that he admitted this thought to himself. After all, it had only been just over five months since Jack's death and he was living in her homeland with his new family. He glanced up at the rearview mirror and saw his foster-father's eyes reflected back at him. He loved them all. Edward, with his calm, soothing, fatherly manner, Liz with her cheerful outlook and her ready embraces, Sabina with her inane chatter and sly mischief. They were the family he'd always wanted and he was happy with them. But even so, he longed for Wolf's company. It was nothing tangible, nothing he could explain. There was certainly nothing wrong with the Pleasures, it was just . . . well, Alex loved Wolf in a way he didn't love them and his heart ached at the thought that he was no longer under the same roof as the elder man.

He also couldn't help the suspicion that he'd let Wolf down, disappointed him somehow. Smithers had called and told him the news when Alex returned to the UK and was stored in the safe house. A wry smile tugged at his lips and he remembered the glare Wolf had received courtesy of Crawley when they'd finally left Alex's room hours after the soldier had stormed his way in. It hadn't bothered him in the slightest. He'd even tried to force his face into a smile when they were told that Mrs Jones had arranged for Alex to live in America from now on. As if he thought Alex didn't know how he'd violently contested the decision, stating that he was more than adequate to care for Alex.

His stomach twisted at the notion. If he'd been thinking clearly, if he'd not been so wrapped up in his own grief, if he'd supported Wolf and insisted that he stayed with him in England – would it have worked? Would he even now be sitting on that far too small, squashed up leather coach beside the soldier, laughing over stupid TV or sitting on the floor thrashing him at backgammon?

An image of Wolf's face when Edward had guided Alex through the checking point, crossed a line Wolf could not, flashed in his mind's eye. He'd still had time. Even then, it hadn't been too late. After all, he hadn't sent any of his possessions to America, he was simply taking three suitcases with him. He could've stood up, walked back across the divide . . .

His heart leapt into his throat along with the surge of regret. 'It's too late now, what's done is done. You still talk to him.'

It was true; the pair of them texted and exchanged calls and emails every second day or so, except for when Wolf was on assignment, and he always sent a message warning Alex that he would be unavailable, so Alex knew he hadn't forgotten him. But it wasn't the same.

And, as he tilted his head back so his crown was lolling on the headrest of his seat, he wondered how long it would last before one or both them cracked. And when that happened . . . well, he didn't know what the outcome would be.