Chapter Text
Bell sat at the table by the Evidence Board, disassembling and reassembling his handgun in a steady, mechanical rhythm. It wasn’t about the weapon; it was about keeping his hands busy, and his mind from wandering to places it shouldn’t.
Adler entered the room, his boots barely making a sound on the stone floor. Bell didn’t look up, but he felt the man’s presence like a weight settling over the room.
"You should get some rest," Adler said, pulling up a chair beside him. His voice was calm, but there was an undercurrent of something else—something heavy.
Bell smirked faintly, his hands not pausing their work. "What, and miss out on this quality bonding time? Not a chance."
Adler let out a soft chuckle, surprising both of them. It was rare for him to let his guard down, even for a moment. "You’re too stubborn for your own good, you know that?"
"Guess that’s why I’m still here," Bell shot back, a faint grin tugging at his lips.
Adler’s smile faltered, and his gaze dropped to the table. He hadn’t meant it as a joke— not entirely.
Bell was still here, alive and fighting, because Adler had made it so. He’d shaped Bell into the perfect asset, molding him through lies and manipulation.
Adler shook the thought away, but the guilt lingered like smoke in his lungs. "You’ve been doing good work, Bell," he said, his voice quieter now. "I know I don’t say it enough, but I trust you out there."
Bell’s hands stilled, the pieces of the gun clinking softly against the table. He looked at Adler, surprise flickering in his eyes. "Didn’t think you were the type for pep talks."
"Not usually," Adler admitted, leaning back in his chair. "But you’ve earned it. Not everyone could do what you’ve done."
Bell didn’t know how to respond.
Praise from Adler was rare, and it carried weight. But as he studied the man beside him, he noticed something unusual in Adler’s expression—something almost like regret.
"You okay?" Bell asked, tilting his head.
Adler hesitated, his mask slipping for just a moment. "Just thinking. This mission… It's big. Bigger than most. There’s a lot riding on it."
Bell nodded, his gaze dropping to the dismantled pieces of his weapon. "Yeah. After this, maybe things’ll finally calm down."
"Maybe," Adler said, though his tone lacked conviction. He wasn’t thinking about the mission itself, but what came after.
When it was over, Bell wouldn't be there to see the dust settle. He knew that, and that knowledge cut deeper than he cared to admit.
"What about you?" Bell asked suddenly, breaking the silence. "What do you do after all this? After Perseus is dealt with?"
Adler let out a dry laugh. "You think I’ve ever planned that far ahead?"
Bell smirked. "Come on. There’s gotta be something you want. A quiet cabin in the woods? A dog to keep you company? Or more world domination prevention?”
Adler’s lips twitched into a faint smile. "Maybe something simple. Something… normal." He paused, his voice softening. "What about you?"
Bell shrugged, setting the gun pieces down. "Hard to say. I barely remember who I was before all this. Figuring that out might be a good place to start."
Adler nodded, but the guilt twisted in his gut.
You don't remember because of me.
He had taken that from Bell... Stolen his past and rewritten his reality. And soon, he’d have to take something even more precious: Bell’s life.
"You’ll figure it out," Adler said, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside him. "You’re stronger than you think."
Bell looked at him, something unspoken passing between them. For all the lies and manipulation, there was something genuine in Adler’s words— something Bell wanted to believe.
"Thanks," Bell said softly, his lips curving into a small, genuine smile.
Adler returned it, but the guilt weighed heavier now. He didn’t deserve that smile, that trust. Not after what he’d done. Not while knowing what he’d have to do.
But for now, in the quiet of the safe house, he let himself believe—just for a moment—that things could have been different. That he and Bell could have had something real, something untainted by the mission.
The moment passed, and the weight of reality settled back over them.
But for those fleeting minutes, Adler allowed himself to feel, and Bell allowed himself to hope.