| Four Months Later |

A thwack woke me up. Ow?

Blinking, I scrubbed a hand down my face, then sat up and looked around confused until my eyes settled on what had woken me up. Or rather, who.

Hey, princess, I signed with a tired smile. I then shifted onto my side when Elana grinned back and started climbing into the bed with me. I wrapped my arm around her and chuckled when she started bouncing her body on the mattress. I tackled her down and pulled up her pajama blouse to blow a raspberry on her stomach.

Clapping was her way of laughing. She wheezed out some breathy sounds that melted my heart, but fuck, it was worth the puddle. Grinning back up at her, she stuck her tongue out at me and started signing. Where is Smurf?

– Yeah, you best believe I'd taught Elana to call her Smurf.

I don't know, I signed back, taking a glance around our bedroom, realizing she wasn't here. Last I saw her, she was drooling on my stomach after I fucked her to sleep.

Twice.

Let's go find her, I signed and then pecked Elana on her shoulder before she nodded in agreement and bounced off the bed. I couldn't believe she was almost six. Princesses grew up so fast.

I quickly grabbed a pair of boxers and put them on before taking Elana's hand and letting her drag me into the kitchen. I covered a yawn in my hand on the way. How long had I been asleep anyways?

"Smurf?" I called into the apartment, Elana still dragging me along, now going for the living room when the kitchen was empty. "Zoe?"

"In here!" Came a muffled sound from the small room adjoining the living room; The laundry room. I instantly alerted Elana, telling her to check if maybe she'd fallen into the washing machine.

Grinning when she pulled me along, I couldn't hold back my laugh when true enough, Smurf was bent over the washing machine, top half of her body inside it while the bottom half dangled out, her feet unable to reach the ground. She refused to use the stepladder I had bought her because apparently, she wasn't cute enough as it was doing normal tasks.

"Need some help?" I smirked and watched as Elana let go of my hand and trotted over to grab Smurf's leg, trying to pull her out. I heard a frustrated, slightly annoyed sound come from inside the laundry machine.

"I'm fine. I just need to get this last sock so can start the dryer—ow!"

I heard a hollow thwacking sound. Was she hitting the machine for hitting her? I repressed my laugh. Okay, maybe I didn't. I finally walked over while she was huffing angrily and wrapped my hands around her waist, pulling her out. After setting her down and grinning at her unamused face, I bent and high-fived Elana with a smirk. Team work.

"This is your fault, you know," She growled while I reached inside the machine with ease and grabbed the last sock. It was one of Elana's tiny ones that had gotten stuck at the bottom. "If you had just bought the washing machine I wanted, then we wouldn't be having this problem."

"But what fun would that've been?" Chugging the last sock into the dryer, Zoe snorted at me and closed the washing machine with a slam.

I felt a yank on my hand and looked down, finding Elana signing something.

"You wanna eat out tonight?" I asked, leaning down to pick up Elana when she fidgeted to get up. She was nearly six, but stop fucking me if I was gonna stop picking her up till I was dead.

"Sure," Smurf replied, grabbing the laundry basket with the dry clothes from the dryer, putting on a new load to dry. The clothes inside it was predominantly black. "Can we go for Chinese? I'm really craving fried rice."

"You know, just because you can't get fat doesn't mean the rest of us can't either," I commented as we all walked out of the laundry room, heading for the living room. Smurf dumped the laundry basket down on the couch while I threw Elana into it, flying her in like an airplane. She clapped excitedly and got up again, wanting to do it one more time.

"I know that. We can eat healthy or whatever tomorrow," She mumbled while I picked Elana up and threw her into the couch again. The little peanut got up again, goddamn it.

"Or, you know, I could just eat you," I said, smirking smugly while picking Elana up again, hearing her wheeze before throwing her into the pillows once more. I was gonna blow my back out for this, but tell me it wouldn't be worth it. "Since you are what you eat, and you're a low-fat, high-sugar, full-course meal."

I couldn't goddamn stop grinning at the deadpan look Smurf gave me. "I can't even with you sometimes." She sighed, tiredly.

Oh? "Well, in that case..."

Smurf shrieked as I picked her up like Elana and threw her into the couch beside her. I then let myself fall in afterwards, grabbing my two girls and snuggling up with them.

"Caleb, you goddamn cheese!" Smurf squirmed, but chuckled as Elana climbed over me to hug her. Zoe wrapped her arm around her and cuddled her. She was still learning ASL, but Elana didn't need to speak with her to love her. Maybe because she confused her for a plushie. Who knew. I sure did sometimes.

"Like I said," I smirked, catching Smurf's eyes through all Elana's climbing and relocating between us. "You are what you eat."

"Not true," She said, Elana finally finding a comfortable position, placing her butt on my thighs and her head against Smurf's chest. "You are what you do."

The second she had spoken it, the smirk that stretched on my lips made her roll her eyes – but she fucking set me up.

"I swear if you goddamn say it—"

"You're me!"

And that's how I found myself getting attacked by a Smurf, sidekicked by my own little sister.

"Okay, okay, truce!" I laughed when both of them squeezed me to my death with love. "I need to get dressed, I've got an important meeting today, remember?"

"Right," Smurf sighed. Elana settled down when she did, but then curled up to my side and laid her head on my shoulder. I kissed the top of it. "Is today the day you're..."

"Burning my alias?" I finished, mirroring her sigh. For almost the past six months, I had been living as Zachary Montrell. Today, he was no more. "With everything being done with the whole CIA-gig, he thought it would be best if we let it burn and make a new one."

"Well, I'm not going to miss calling you Zac," Smurf pursed her lips, but then smiled when I chuckled. "The neighbors must've thought I was two-timing you."

I threw my head back with laughter. Yeah, that had been quite a fun problem; Smurf not knowing which name to call out when I slammed her full of orgasms. "One less problem?"

"Alright," She sighed a last time, but then got up from the couch, just as Elana bolted off my lap and ran to her room. "You better get dressed then, if you don't wanna be late. What time am I seeing you again?"

"I'll be back before you know it," I grinned, standing up and circling my arms around her when she started folding the laundry again. "So soon, you won't even forget how much I love you. Just in case though, I'll leave a note in the kitchen."

"You're such a cheese," She mumbled, but caved when I gripped her chin and steered her lips to mine.

"Only for you," I spoke against them, feeling my own tuck upwards.

And then I kissed my Smurf deeply, making the note I was gonna write completely redundant.

~~~

It was very late in the afternoon and I groaned as I clasped my shoulder, walking down the street.

Granted I had woken up late today, but it had been a long day nonetheless. I was exhausted. Burning an alias was weird. I was no longer Zach Montrell. I wasn't even Caleb anymore. Who the fuck was I?

Just then, my phone rang and my lips quirked up when I saw Smurf's picture on my screen. Her goofy face hugging Elana while they were dressed up as princesses had been my screensaver ever since Elana's princess tea party. Princess costume had been mandatory, and not to brag, but I made for an awesome Cinderella.

Answering the call, I pressed my phone to my ear. "New phone, who dis?"

"So, did you do it?" She asked, interestedly. "Is Zac Montrell dead?"

"As dead as he can ever be," I told. "This feels so weird."

"I know. We need to find you a better name next time. It was starting to feel a little too jersey boys."

"How about Batman? Or Hackerboy? Or maybe Orgasms-Upon-Orgasms-Until-You-Fall-Asleep-Completely-Dicked-Down."

"I don't think that would fit on a credit card," She grunted in the other end. "We'll work on it when you get home. Speaking of, how far along are you?"

"I'm almost there," I chuckled. "Alias is dead, I just dropped off the USB, so now we're officially done. The case is closed and we're safe."

Almost as if having held her breath for months, I felt Zoe breathe out a long breath. "Thank God. It was fun while it lasted, but I can't wait for everything to turn back to normal."

"Me, too," I spoke, tiredly. Everything had been crazy the last few months. Right from playing a guy working at the CIA, to being a mole, to breaking into the CIA, to flying to Italy and back, and lastly, to accidentally playing match maker between two agents. It was unbelievable how much had happened, not to mention today I was saying goodbye to all of it.

"Come back home soon," Smurf whispered, and now I detected the hint in her voice that I knew to be her arousal. I grinned a little, but then hiked up in my bag.

"I'm less than five blocks away, sweetcheeks. I'll be there before your panties are fully drenched."

"Don't be so sure of that."

With that, I smirked as she hung up on me, leaving me completely on edge. God, I couldn't believe how much I loved this Smurf-girl. This amazing, weird-ass, emo-loving being that just kept on chewing on my heart.

Maybe now was the time.

Feeling my heart suddenly pound, I realized that maybe now was the time I had been waiting for. For months—shit, ever since we first met, we had done things a little backwards, but fast. Sex within hours of knowing each other, moving in together after only weeks, moving states together and robbing governmental properties just months into our relationship. We had done everything so crazily, but with each passing day, I had realized just how much I loved her.

And how much I couldn't let her get away from me.

Grinning to myself, I lowered my eyes to the pavement as my mind started racing with ideas. Should I really do it? Should I break a knee for her?

Elana loved her. She was a perfect big-sis-slash-girl friend to her. They did girly stuff together, stuff I usually used to do with Elana to make sure she hadn't drowned in me and Eli's testosterone. Now that Smurf was here, she finally had a woman to help her practice her boss makeup and hair skills with that she loved so much. Even if she ended up looking like a Smurf-clown with a wicked hair-do.

But damn it, I loved that Smurf-clown with a wicked hair-do.

I'm gonna do it, I told myself, now feeling a bounce in my step. I was shaking, I was crazy, but shit, when had that ever stopped me?

I was going to propose to her.

Grinning wildly, I suddenly felt excited as I walked home, now knowing what was coming. Obviously I wasn't going to do it tonight, though. First I needed to find a ring, and then I needed to wait for the perfec—

A body launched into mine before I had any time to sense what was happening. One moment I was walking down the quiet street, the next moment I was brutally shoved against a wall, so hard, I felt my chin smack against the brick. I groaned harshly, but then felt as hands grabbed me and started dragging me off.

I didn't get a chance to protest before a fist suddenly rammed itself into my head. My vision blackened, and if it hadn't been because I had caught a few words before things went apeshit, I would've suspected C.E.N.T.U.R.I.E.S to once again have found me and kidnapped me.

But it wasn't them. And that's what made me realize that this time, I wasn't just fucked; I was doomed.

Because the words I had heard... were Russian.

Feeling myself get dragged across the pavement, I sensed from my blackening view that I was being dragged somewhere isolated. It looked like a parking structure. What was it with these people and parking structures? I started counting voices and footsteps. Four... no, five, at least. There could be more, but I couldn't be sure.

My heart started racing when I then felt myself get shoved onto the ground, catching myself on my hands and knees. I groaned and stayed down, knowing full and well now wasn't the time to run my smart mouth.

One thing was messing with the government... another was messing with the bratva.

That was the only difference between the two equally fucked up establishments, and that was that C.E.N.T.U.R.I.E.S wanted what we had, but they would never kill me for it. Torture, yes, but kill...? Doubtful.

The mafia on the other hand...

"Tell us where it is," A tough, pissed-off voice snarled with a heavy Russian accent at me. The kind of pissed-off voice one would have if you had been played with and yanked around for months by me, Agent Santino and the CI-to-the-fucking-A.

"I don't have it," I replied truthfully, knowing what they were talking about. They had been there every step of the way. News traveled fast, especially when moles were everywhere. If there was a race to making mutants, every country wanted the recipe. Including the Russians.

"We know who you are, Caleb Montrell," He spat out my name like a rusty gun. "We know what you do and who you work for. We know you have it."

"Not anymore," I said, keeping my gaze bolted to the floor as I heard them circle me like vultures. "The USB is gone. You fuckers are too late."

With an angry growl, a pair of hands ripped me up from the ground by my neck and made me hiss out as I was forced to crane my head back. A large man stepped in front of me and peered down at me.

"Search him," He demanded, and instantly hands ripped my bag away from me and started going through my shit.

"I said, it's gone," I angrily replied, gritting my teeth when the mongrel behind me clenched my neck tight. "—ahh, you won't find anything, you're wasting your time."

It was right then they pulled out my laptop. I pressed my lips together when they opened it up and saw the password blinking at them.

"Unlock it," The big guy growled. He pushed me forward and forced me to kneel down to my laptop where they held it out. "You will give us the information."

"Even if the information was on there," I scoffed, trying to turn my eyes up and meet his, struggling against the mongrel's grip on my neck, "I would never give it to you."

The sound of a gun being cocked sounded right behind my ear. I froze up and felt as the butt of a gun got pressed into the back of my head.

"I will say it one more time," The big brute leaned down and growled at me; "Give us the information."

My eyes were like fire as I glared back up at him. The cold steel of the gun made me sweat, but I knew one thing was certain; "I will never give you the information."

Big brute curled his lip back at me, but then stood back up and spoke some words in Russian to his friends. The guys around him suddenly shuffled around, and without speaking, they all seemed to move into position.

"If you will not give us the information, we will make you," He promised, just as one guy walked up to me, fishing out a pair of brass knuckles from his back pocket. My eyes widened. "You will scream and then we will kill you and everyone you love."

"You can torture me all you want," I said, feeling my body begin to shake as adrenaline took a full hold of me, glaring at the brass knuckles. Shit. Was this how I was going to die? "I'll still never tell you anything."

The big brute grunted unimpressed, but then muttered a word in Russian to his friend.

The next second, the air was knocked out of my stomach. I hunched over forward and gasped for my breath as my lungs refused to unfold. The second thing to follow was the pain.

Expanding from my stomach to my whole ribcage, I let out small, haggard sounds as I struggled to get my breath back in. I never got a chance though, because the next moment I was yanked up again.

The flash of the brass knuckle barely registered to me before it scraped across my cheekbone and punched what felt like a hole in my skull. My vision completely blackened and pain ricocheted through my head. Everything felt on fire as I let out a cry of pain.

"Talk," Big brute sneered. I could barely hear him as the ringing inside my skull only intensified.

I groaned out and tried to think as everything inside me seem to fail.

There was no getting out of this. I was all alone, nobody knew where I was or that I was in danger. Holy shit. This was really it, wasn't it? I was going down with all my secrets in a rundown building surrounded by a group of Russian mobsters.

"No," I breathed out, refusing to let myself go. They could torture me, they could make my last moments a living hell, but I would never betray the ones I loved – the ones whose lives depended on my mouth staying shut. Every innocent life was on my conscience if I told them what I knew. But I wouldn't.

Because I planned on going to heaven.

More Russian words were spoken, and as I managed to lift my head just enough to see what was happening, I saw the big brute step forward, fishing a knife out from his sleeve.

Before I could react, a cloth was suddenly pushed over my mouth and I let out a shout of protest as the mongrel behind me held it tightly over my lips. My sounds got muffled, and it only made my eyes widen as I realized what was about to happen.

Oh... shit.

"You will speak," The big brute promised me as he knelt down and grabbed my leg.

No, God, fuck no!

I screamed and kicked when he and two other guys held me pinned and then started slicing open my pants from below the knee and down. Exposing my kneecap, I shouted out every plea in the book when he then with a sinister look brought the knife to right under it.

– And then started slicing.

Pain like nothing I had ever felt before blazed through my body. As the knife pierced my skin and pressed right against a large nerve, I screamed out and cried for mercy as they continued digging into my knee and making my world crash around me.

For what felt like hours, the knife played with my nerves, muscles and bones, digging around like I was a cow for slaughter. Tears ran down my cheeks as I felt the pain finally weaken me enough to dot my vision. It was right before the moment I passed out, the knife was slipped out.

"Give us the information!" The brute yelled, standing up to face my pale eyes, swimming from pain and exhaustion as the guy behind me removed the cloth. "Give it to us and we will end your suffering."

"No!" I sobbed as one of the other guys jabbed his thumb into my wound. I shook my head and pressed my lips together, but then threw my head back in a cry as I felt the knife return.

"Tell us!!!"

The cloth was forced over my mouth again when my screams started to pierce the silence. I screamed through the cloth and felt as the knife once again hit my nerve. The pain was indescribable. I cried like the day I was born and felt the tears sting as they rolled down my cheeks.

"Give us what you have or die!" The brute's voice barely registered in my ears anymore. It drowned out in my screams and disappeared through a haze of agony.

The knife and the cloth were then both removed again. I hunched over forward and saw my knee bleeding like shit, my entire shin red with blood and my kneecap showing muscle hanging out. The sight made me want to throw up.

"Tell us," The brute leaned down to my face. When I did nothing but breathe, he grabbed my hair and wrenched my head back again. I winced and met his eyes with as much hatred as I could produce with what little energy I had left.

"Go... fuck yourselves," I gutturally said and spat him in the face. He closed his eyes and a snarl formed on his lip. I was doomed anyway, so what did it matter? "I'm never telling... you anything..."

The brute lifted a hand and wiped his face. With slow movements, he then let go of my hair and straightened out. I hunched over exhaustedly again, but cracked my eyes up just in time to catch him nod to his men.

This was it. I was refusing to speak and that left one choice; death. The mafia had a strict 'no survivors policy' when it came to interrogations. Rya's mission had been the proof and that's why, as I saw the guy from before slip the brass back on his knuckles, I breathed dizzily and clenched my teeth so tightly it fucking hurt.

To think just a few moments ago, I had been blissfully walking home while thinking about proposing to Smurf. She was still waiting for me to come home, and something told me she would wait for a very long time now. Water filled my eyes as I pictured her face when she would get the message. When the word finally got out and my body was found... when Elana became orphaned for the second time.

Sweet God, have mercy. Please, I beg of you. Don't let it end like this. Don't leave my sister all alone. Don't make them feel this pain. Please, dear God, save me.

They were my family. Smurf and Elana. Mia and Eli. Even Rya and Vince and... him. Mr Stone. The big boss. They had all been there for me, had all needed my help and now... now I was letting them down.

But at least I was going down knowing I never betrayed my family.

And that's why, as I closed my eyes, just before seeing him lift his fist, I didn't fear death. "The lord is my shepherd, I shall not want. He maketh me lie down—"

The brass punched a hole in my stomach and I felt as something within me cracked and broke. I cried out, but shook my head, tears welling up.

"He leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name's sake—"

The second punch hit my diaphragm. The air was once again knocked from my lungs and refused to unfold, but even though I could not speak the words, I continued mouthing them.

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me—"

The punches kept coming and at last I couldn't move anymore. I hollered and could do nothing but brace myself as he pounded the ghost out of me. I didn't know what was worst; the sound of the brass hitting my solid shape or the sound of my soul leaving my body with every cry that ripped from my throat. I didn't care one shit that I was sobbing. It hurt beyond any-fucking-thing I had ever tried. I threw up when he punched me in my gut. Blood and other nasty things I couldn't look at came up and landed on my feet, the remnants dribbling down my chin.

My knees finally gave out. The guy behind me pulled me up, but I couldn't stay on my own feet. Instead he held me like a goddamn rag doll and let their boss use me as a custom made punching bag. I wasn't even sure I felt the pain anymore. I was slipping. I was... I... was... I was going home.

Maybe mom and dad would be there waiting for me...

"Last chance." I heard a faraway voice speak. It was the brute's. "Last chance to talk, or we kill you."

The fuck did they think I was? A moron? They'd kill me anyway once they got my answer. If they wanted my secrets, they were going to have to collect them from God himself.

I stayed silent, too weak to speak, even if I wanted to utter any last words. I then saw the big brute draw his knife again, wiping the blade off on his thigh before bringing it up to my throat. My eyes started drifting once more, slowly closing to be with God, but just then, something caught my gaze from my peripheral vision, and it wasn't death coming to fetch me.

A black shape moved out from the shadows. It was just like out of a DC comic. He even wore a cape—or so my blurry eyes would believe it was. He stalked forward like a predator, waiting to strike his prey.

And then, fucking chaos erupted.

"Octorozno, bocc!" One of the brute's men shouted.

The brute spun around and only just managed to catch the stranger as he lunged for him. Everything turned into a fucking blur before my eyes as the mystery-man skirted, swung and hit the brute. The brute fought back, knife in hand, jabbing at the stranger. He matched his movements, but the mystery-man was no ordinary civilian who had happened upon the scene.

He was like fucking G.I Joe.

He was faster than the brute. More or better trained than him. When his henchmen seemed to realize as well, they let go of me and jumped in to assist. Their boss was struggling, landing too few blows and taking too many. When they swooped in, mystery-guy turned to them like he fucking welcomed their arrival; He attacked them like an animal in a frenzy.

I laid on the ground where my useless legs had let me slump to and watched the scene roll before my eyes. Quite frankly, I was scared shitless of my mystery-savior, but I couldn't move. If the Russians turned out to be too little prey, I was next on the list. Not that there was much left to slay.

But it was more than nothing.

Leaning against my arm, I therefore struggled to get up. I had to survive. I started crawling, inching, fucking dragging myself across the concrete to where they had dropped my laptop and bag. I had to survive. Everything hurt. Every breath, every bone, every muscle, every organ inside me ached. I scraped across the cold concrete, swallowing endless painful cries and letting out only groans in return while the fighting continued beside me. I had to survive.

Finally, my fingers touched a bag.

Just then, my eyes snapped up when I heard a roar. The mystery-man held the brute's knife in his hand, and with no hesitation to save his soul, he imbedded it into the brute's chest. Not seconds later, he swung around and slashed it across one of the henchmen's throat who came at him from behind. Blood spurted out and landed everywhere. Hell, a few droplets even hit me. The last henchman shouted a curse in Russian and tried to escape; No such fucking thing. The mystery-guy was merciless.

My own guts nearly spilled out as I witnessed the guy grab him and toss him onto the ground like he was garbage. He knelt down and stabbed the knife into his stomach over and over again; up, down, up, down. The sight had my stomach churning and had me desperately reaching for my bag. Using my last strength, I found what I was looking for. I pulled it out, snatched off the safety and then pointed the muzzle towards the roof.

Bang. The gunshot echoed throughout the entire building structure and seemed to freeze time.

The mystery-man froze up midair with the knife hovering above his head. As if waking up from a trance, he dropped the blade and moved away from the dead bodies. He stared in shock, like he couldn't remember doing any of it. His finally eyes slammed sideways and met mine.

I stared back him, watching his eyes move to the gun I was still holding. My gun. I removed my finger from the trigger, but held on to the firearm, just in case. Adrenaline was pumping through my veins and I felt like screaming. But I had to keep going. Had to survive.

"I'm on your side," I rasped out, hoping that was the truth. Fuck, I prayed it was. I took a bold move and decided to lay the gun down, slowly, seeing his eyes follow it. "We're good, man... We're good."

G.I Joe dropped his gaze, then fell to his hands. As if only just then seeing his bloodied clothes, his eyes widened. Ironically enough, that's when I also realized what I had mistaken for a cape was in fact a long jacket; A trench coat.

"Hey," I winced as I tried to sit up. Pain spiked through my abdomen. I needed a hospital. Hell, I needed a new everything. I groaned and swallowed my agony and fell back down to the ground. My knee was killing me. Bleeding me out. Focusing on my rescuer, I saw he hadn't moved yet. "Hey... I need... we have to go to... a hospital..."

His eyes jerked to me and I saw his pupils expand. Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say to him. His lips parted and he started breathing heavily, fast. Oh, shit.

"Calm down... shit... it's okay," I held up a shaky hand. When he started backing away, I winced again. "Hey, hey. Don't run. It's gonna be okay... Just... calm down..."

But since when did those words ever fucking work?

My mystery savior spun around on his foot and staggered away, as if the devil himself was chasing him. I called out for him, begged him to come back to help me. He didn't.

"Fuck," I slumped back against the ground and winced as the pain inside my body worsened. I was bleeding internally and externally, and I was on my own. My eyes fell to the dead bodies. They were bad people, but my heart didn't like death under any circumstances. God have fucking mercy on them.

My eyes then shifted to my bag again. Right next to where my laptop laid.

I somehow managed to crawl towards it. I only just managed to somehow unlock it and with shaking fingers managed to type down my message in bold, red letters and somehow sent it before the world crashed down on me and blackened out.

DON'T TICKLE.

• • •

And finally, introducing good guy #3.

– Now you should know where the blood came from in Violinist.