Russell Adler x Reader

Thirty-Six

The last day at the camp, about a week before the war had ended, had been the day Adler had asked you for the very first time to stay by his side.

The States had decided to give up a bunch of locations to minimise the loss on their part. At the same time they managed to bring enough people home alive to make it seem like a success anyways.

The helicopters were all in the air, carrying soldiers back to their families, back home to America. Many of them were damaged, broken men but many more would return as heroes.

One helicopter was still on the ground. The blades were already starting to spin, but the bird was still waiting for someone very important.

Still a little overwhelmed by the injuries from the crash, Adler dragged himself down the road to the field.

You were by his side, one hand on his back for support, while holding a box of pills in the other.

For the longest time he had refused to take painkillers to save them for the ones who really needed them.

But now that he was one of the last to be evacuated, he needed to take some. Especially because he wouldn't survive a ride through the air without them.

He already had one foot in the helicopter as he stopped and turned to you.

The damaged side of his face had looked different back then, less healed and more fresh. The flesh was still quite pale around the injuries, which started to scar.

It was obvious that he still wasn't used to his new face yet.

He had started to move his lips more and whenever he talked the left side of his face pulled up a bit as if he was testing how much pressure he could put on the scars without making them tear again.

"Angel...", his voice was deeper that day, stronger and more distant.

But whenever he called out for you, the harsh tone softened and a little of the old Adler was showing.

"Hm?", you reached up to push his glasses up with two fingers. "Don't take too many of these, alright? Thin air and high blood pressure don't go well with painkillers."

You pressed the container of pills into the palm of his hand.

For a moment he eyed them.

"Angel.", he said again and took his glasses off. "I want you to come with me."

You frowned, grinning.

"I'll take the next one. You know the drill, medics leave last in case of emergency."

He shook his head and put his glasses on you.

The gesture wasn't just confusing but it also scared the shit out of you that day.

He had never done something like this before.

"I want you to stay by my side.", he said.

You tilted your head.

"Adler..."

"Russell."

"Eh. I don't know if I can call you that. Seems quite personal. How about shades? Fits you, no?"

He huffed and actually had to smile for the first time after many weeks of being depressed about how the war had changed him physically.

"It's good to know that the war didn't take your sense of humour.", he flipped two fingers against your forehead. "I like that about you. And I want to have more of it."

Unsure, you took of the shades and eyed them in your hand.

It was a good offer.

Unfortunately, it would involve close contact to Adler. And you weren't sure if you could do it.

"Russell...", you offered him the shades back. "I don't know if I get what you say."

He rolled his eyes, little annoyed that you were trying to play the guessing game.

"I want you to marry me instead.", he said.

Your heart skipped a beat. Immediately, heat rose to your face and you had to blush.

"You have a girl at home!", you gasped, trying to laugh it off.

"I didn't pick her. The CIA decided I need to be married, so they got me someone to marry. We've met once before the war. I already forgot her name."

"We don't know each other either."

"You saved me. You're a good catch, I can tell. A better one. One that I can find peace with."

For a moment, you thought about it.

"Will there be love?", you asked, shocking yourself with the realisation that you were willing to think about it.

A slim smile appeared on those plump lips of his.

You had kissed him before, most of the time because of loneliness or boredom at war. But it had never been bad and you could imagine kissing those lips more often.

That in itself was dangerous.

"Not yet.", he admitted. "But I'm confident that will change. I like you, angel. I really do. But more importantly, I trust you. And I never trust anybody."

His words made you shiver.

Things were developing great for you, at least when you reminded yourself that spying on Adler was your top priority in life now.

But you feared the outcome.

You feared to be more than just a friend.

You feared him being close to you because he' be the only one to see behind the curtain.

"Shades...", you gifted him a soft smile and put the sunglasses back onto his face. "We both know that there is nothing between us."

You wanted to pull away, but he grabbed your hands and forced them to stay on his cheeks, covering the scars.

Out of reflex, your thumb started stroking over the rough skin.

In all the weeks of his recovering you had done so many time, to give him comfort and the feeling of security.

He had fallen for the trap. Maybe a little too hard.

"I like you.", he insisted.

You wanted to return the words.

Your heart was aching for a reply, one that would have cost your head.

But all you could do was huff gently.

"There's nothing between us, Russell...", you whispered in agony and breathed a kiss of goodbye to his lips. "You don't like me. It's trauma."

He left, but not without offering you to be his CIA partner.

You didn't turn that offer down. After all, you needed to spy on him some kind of way.