This is fairly short, and possibly a little random, but it just entered my head and I needed to write it. And now I need to post it before I change it so much that I wreck it. Hope it means something to some of you.

We're spies. We're not supposed to be afraid … and we're certainly not meant to talk about our fears. Except when the psych puts in an appearance ... then it's expected, in a roundabout sort of way. We're not supposed to be afraid, but we are.

Zoe was afraid of not being herself any more. She was afraid of becoming someone else, and losing her identity; losing sight of who she really was. So she fought it, but she had no choice at all really.

Danny would have been afraid, at the end, knowing what was coming. But, I can also imagine him strong and defiant. Fiona said as much. She said that once they knew one of them was going to die, he decided it had to be him, that he had less to lose, and he was defiant till the end.

I'm sure Colin was afraid. He didn't expect to find himself in that kind of danger. And Zaf, cheeky Zaf. He was injured, sick, and alone. He must have been afraid.

Rebelliousness can mask fear though. Adam knew what it was like to be afraid, and Adam was a rebel. He did things on his own terms, but his confidence and bold attitude hid the struggle inside.

I've seen Harry afraid, too. He hides it well, but I've seen it in his eyes, and heard it in his voice.

As a little girl, I was afraid of big dogs and swimming in deep water. I was afraid of being embarrassed, and of not being pretty. I was afraid of death. I was confronted with death when my father died. I was afraid I would forget him. That I wouldn't remember what he looked like, or the way he would sit and read to me at bedtime. I was afraid my mother would die too, and that I would be all alone.

As an adult, I have been afraid of not living up to expectations, and of losing people. I have been so afraid of losing someone, that I've been completely, recklessly, selfless, and had to face a new life, an unknown life. Like Zoe, I was afraid I wouldn't be me anymore. I was afraid of being forgotten.

Creating a new life was crammed full of fear: finding somewhere to live, a job to help me survive. I'd lost my family and friends, and had to go out of my way to meet new people and make new friends. I was afraid of pretending. I was afraid they would ask too many questions, that I would say too much, or not enough.

I was afraid of returning to this place, a place that's full of conflicting emotions and memories, and yet which feels so much like home. I was afraid it would be both too hard, and too easy, to come back. It was hard to know there were people who were no longer here, people I hadn't been able to say goodbye to. It was hard to deal with all the things that scare me, scare all of us, and which make this job a necessity. It was easy to fall back into old routines, and to bury myself in the job. Easy to enjoy the thrill of the chase, finding that bit of information that is the key to resolving a crisis. It was easy to realise what I missed most about being here … who I missed.

But I am still afraid.

I'm afraid of not being able to say how I feel. I'm afraid of being rejected, and of being lonely. I'm afraid that if I say how I feel ... the reality of what might happen, couldn't possibly live up to my dreams.

I need to face my fears.