This was no good. He was losing Fox fast, and if he didn’t put a stop to it, Fox wouldn’t be able to function.

Axel grabbed Fox and pulled him in for a deep, desperate kiss, because if that didn’t knock him out of his downward spiral, nothing would.

And maybe—just maybe—because he wanted to.

He felt Fox tense under the pressure. But little by little, he also felt Fox start to unwind. The way the shirt moved in his hand, the softening of Fox’s lips against his, the slowing of Fox’s breaths…

Axel closed his eyes for a moment. Only a second. They weren’t in a situation here where he could let it last, but the urge to give in and just enjoy this one fragment of beauty in a world of hell was almost overpowering.

It felt like more. It bore weight, this kiss. It carried meaning. Like opening the drapes and bathing in sunlight, this kiss was a choice that flooded doubt and loneliness and misery out of his heart, and replaced them with certainty.

With hope.

And something bigger than both.

Everything fell into place. It was like the years of when you find the right one, you’ll just know had come true. It was crazy, but it was so right, and Axel was damned if a bunch of terrorists were going to get between him and the one thing he’d ever felt that way about.

He pulled back from the kiss, but kept hold of Fox’s shirt.

“You okay now?”

Fox’s eyelids fluttered. His cheeks were pink, and they clashed so beautifully with his hair. “Um. Not sure. You might have to do that again. You know, for science.”

“Right,” Axel chuckled. “For science.”

He slowly released Fox’s shirt and ran his fingers down the front to smooth it out.

Fox’s gaze sharpened. He took a deep breath and double-checked his gun, then peeked through the car windows toward the house. “What are they doing in there?”

“Don’t know, but we can’t sit here all day. I’ve got one round left, but Jones keeps a Remington 870 in his trunk.” Axel pointed to the cruiser they were hiding behind. “Shotgun,” he added, at Fox’s bewildered look. “But those guys arrived loaded for bear, too. How are you with locks?”

Fox flashed a grin. “One moment, caller.” He checked inside his jacket, then whipped out a small velour packet. “I’m great with locks. What do you need to get into?”

Axel gestured toward the truck behind himself. “That truck. I wanna know what they’ve got in the back. They’re all carrying semi-autos, so if they have an arsenal in there it’ll help us out. If not we can try and grab the ones they dropped instead, but that’s riskier. They’re right by the house.”

Fox bit his lip a moment, then adjusted his hold on his gun so that he could offer it to Axel grip first. “Swap,” he said.

Axel considered, then exchanged his pistol for Fox’s and checked the magazine.

It was almost full.

“Thanks,” he said. He ensured it was cocked and the safety was on, then pulled out Jones’ keys. “I’ll cover you. All you have to do is make it five yards, okay?”

Fox’s nod was a little more sure, but it didn’t look entirely convincing.

Axel debated whether or not to push. He was asking a lot of a guy who had been on the edge of a panic attack a minute ago, and he knew it, but everything had to go smoothly if they were going to get out of this alive. Axel couldn’t afford to take risks.

He had to say it.

“I need to know that you can do this.”

Fox’s bright eyes flicked his way, and the flush returned to his cheeks. He looked almost offended. “Of course I can! I’ve been picking locks for years, Axel.”

“No. I meant…” Axel sucked in a deep breath. “I meant I need to know that once this goes down, you aren’t gonna freeze up on me. That’s not your fault, and I know how hard it is for you, but if you aren’t a hundred percent, tell me right now and I’ll come up with a different plan.”

He watched as Fox’s eyes clouded. The realization that Axel didn’t mean the lock-picking seemed to come to him quickly, and he blinked several times as he looked toward the earth between them.

“You don’t have to talk,” Axel murmured. “You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. But there’s one thing you do have to do, and you need to promise me that you’ll do it.”

“Yeah?” Fox sniffed, then cleared his throat. “What?”

“You gotta promise me you will ask for a psych eval when you get back to your boss. You’ve got to tell them you aren’t fit for field work, Fox.”

Fox’s gaze shifted toward anger again, and he raised his head. “You—”

“No,” Axel cut in, his tone firm even though his voice was low. “No, Fox. I can’t lose you. Do you read me loud and clear here? I can’t open the door to a goddamn uniform offering me condolences. I can’t do that. Not now I’ve found you again.”

His throat felt raw, and he had to stop talking.

Fox’s eyelids fluttered. He wiped at his eyes. “I… Ha.” He laughed weakly. “You… You really care, huh?”

“Oh, shut up,” Axel huffed.

“This is, like, the most bromancey thing ever,” Fox added.

“You’ve gone into sass mode,” Axel grunted, sniffing a little. “Don’t think I haven’t noticed this thing you do.”

“Heh.” Fox sighed and leaned against the cruiser, holstering Axel’s gun and checking over the lock picks in his pouch. They were just little pieces of metal that looked too flimsy to achieve anything, and they mostly looked exactly the same as each other. “I’m not gonna deny I do it.”

“So you’ll get some help, right?” Axel pressed his lips together tightly and hoped that looking stern might convince Fox to do what was necessary.

Fox shook his head, then his shoulders slumped. “They’ll take me off active duty while they assess me.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“What if someone gets hurt? What if I’m needed but I can’t be there?”

Axel shrugged. “What if you get killed, huh? You can’t help anyone if you’re dead. How many lives do you save every year? It’s got to be hundreds. Every plot you foil, every code you break, every terrorist you locate, you save lives, and it all adds up. And if you’re dead, that is hundreds of people whose lives won’t be saved. You’ve got to take care of you, Fox, so you can be there to help others.”

He crushed down the guilt that rose its head.

How dare you lecture anyone else about self-care?

It was like Fox read his mind. “Then you’ve gotta take care of you, too.”

He snorted. “Too fucking perceptive, you are. Fine. We both take care of ourselves. Deal?”

Fox nodded briefly. “Deal. I promise.”

“Good. On my mark. Ready?”

Fox pushed away from the cruiser and readied himself to sprint, then flashed a dazzling smile at Axel. “Ready.”

Axel nodded. “Mark.”

He whipped the gun from his holster and popped up over the trunk of the car to aim it at the house and Fox burst into life behind him.

They were in motion, now, and it was too late for any more words.