"You're still one of us."

You clenched your gloved hand as you stared down at it, your other hand to your throbbing abused eye. You heard Sims make the call for Russ—Adler—your CO, to Washington. Gone and already preparing for the onslaught they all shall do, due to your words.

"—from the safety of Solovetsky..."

Your teacher—no, not a teacher, never was, never could be—was talking to Hudson. Rushed and tense due to your words he managed to get out of you. His grip tight on the brick cell phone as he stood at the desk outside of where you were. Slightly pacing back and forth, you think his brows were furrowed deep and eyes under those sunglasses—it was a shield, a shadow to his true thoughts, his eyes did not match his warm, friendly tone—tight.

Your eye throbbed, making you wince as you leaned against the gurney—the gurney they forced you in, who knows how many times they forced you on it and you wouldn't remember—you unclenched the gloved hand that still somehow felt his touch. Even through barriers.

But he has a way of taking down walls. Forcing it open whether via kicking or an abundant of C4's.

It wasn't just a mere wall though...

"Bell, open the door."

"Bell."

That's not your name.

Nonetheless, you turned without thinking, seeing Park with her arms crossed, a touch of concern on her face as she blocked the entrance of the office. Soot and dirt and scratches still upon her person from Cuba, since it was merely an hour ago. An hour ago since—

"Hurry up, Bell!"

Lazar, who knew your favorite food items when he got takeout for everyone. Who'd let you partake from his own plate to try something new. Because there's no point in being greedy, he would say, memories with food should be light and new dishes should be enjoyed.

"What's wrong?" Park questioned with that calm voice of hers as you stayed silent. "It's best to prepare your belongings now, we're set to leave within two hours. Maybe even one if Adler has anything to say about it."

If you know anything, which isn't much at all, he always gets what he wants.

"Did he know?" You questioned, eyes distant as you stared over Park's shoulder as you watched your fr—not a friend, Adler was lying to you—move towards where Lazar always stood around and ate his Chinese or helped Sims out with equipment.

Park blinked, thrown for a moment at the question but keeping her composure. She always does.

You wish you were like her, yet at the same time, you want to hate her for it. You want to hate a lot of things as of this very moment. Yet, you were stuck. Some sort of strange Limbo where you feel numb to it all—Vietnam wasn't real, what else wasn't, they never trusted you, you were a mere dog eager for his approval and pats—you were numb. To it all.

"I knew I could count on you."

"Who?" Park asked.

"Lazar," you explained simply, tone distant as you stared ahead only to turn away when aviators glinted towards you. Your ears prickling with heat despite yourself only to grow in fervor due to your shameful acquiesce of being caught. Like a child. "...did he know what the both of you did?" To me, was left unsaid. "Did everyone?" You don't think you can take it if Mason and Woods knew too.

You were staring at the ground, surely looking pathetic and pitiful—hand raising when your eye throbbed again. So you missed when Park took a meaningful glance back over her shoulder and turned back towards you. Entering the office fully and closing the door behind her, moving towards the back of the room and grabbing something. Only for your gaze to see Park's hand with gauze, your head lifting and questioning as her lips were up kindly.

"Come. We need your eye to rest. May I?" You nodded silently, but you didn't sit down on the gurney. You sat on the chair and if Park didn't question you, than you wouldn't explain. You don't have to. You let her bandage your eye, being careful and mindful of the pressure. "All Lazar knew was you used to be an agent of Perseus. And than you weren't. I'm sure he had his suspicions as to how your allegiances changed so drastically, the man liked horse piss for drinks but he wasn't dull."

You heard Park's warm somber tone through her British accent. You wished and felt strongly for a moment that you had time to hook Lazar too. Park than sighed, finishing up on your makeshift gauze eye patch as you stared up at her tired face.

"As to Woods and Mason, it is to my understanding they were there when Adler found you. Although mind you, your face was covered and your gear made you appear like a man. They knew Adler took someone for questioning, and than a few weeks later, you're here. Adler's self-proclaimed protege." You didn't flinch, or at least you tried not to. Park must've noticed because her tone softened a dash more. "I do not presume to know what they thought or believed, but I do not see a man like Woods as a deceiving sort that hides what he thinks. As for Mason...I feel like he would understand you the most. With what occurred though, I'm sure they will be debriefed fully once we depart."

You didn't ask her why. You liked using the computer near the Red Room to get necessary information of reports if you happened to miss something. And if you happened to read the others profiles...

"Look at you being a nosy little thing. Ever thought of just asking us, Bell?"

You wonder if your mind was never truly broken all the way due to all the questions and sniffing around you did in the safe house you saw as just being curious. You're not sure if the others thought the same. That MK-Ultra couldn't get all of you, just like they couldn't get anything out of you with mere interrogation.

"Interrogation didn't work with you."

A knock resounded through the door of the office, you instinctively looking to the side when it opened. Knowing who it would be immediately as Park turned.

"We have to gear up now, we can't delay it any further. Our transport's ETA to take us to Solovetsky is fifteen minutes. Park, make the necessary precautions with MI6 to help Hudson out with infil and exfil." Park nodded, moving out the room and leaving you and Adler in the office. You didn't move from your chair. Nor your gaze to a particular uninteresting corner of the tiled wall. "Come on, Bell. You're with me. We can use your Intel about what routes we can take unnoticed to Solovetsky."

"...I'll tell Hudson myself." You stood, moving to walk past him and to not touch him as you did so as one of Adler's brow rose, echoing the name Hudson from his lips. Before stopping you in your tracks with his bare hand to your sleeved bicep. You paused, not looking and just staring down numbly. You don't feel anything at all. It's nothing. The heat radiating from his hand through your clothes is inconsequential, just like his earlier harsh touch upon your chin and cheeks as he demanded for you to tell him what you always knew without being aware. "Let go."

"I just don't think I heard you straight. Hudson? You're scared of Hudson. And he's not exactly the kindest to you." You now understood why he wasn't. A foreigner. An enemy that could snap at any point. You wouldn't be kind either. His hand on your bicep tensed, a tad firmer but you still didn't look at him. Towards him. You couldn't. "Now, I understand your feelings towards me Bell. But we can't act like this when we're out in the field. It'll cost us our lives. And we can't afford that due to the millions of lives at stake."

"I know that." You practically hissed before yanking your arm back towards you. If the others were looking at you both, you didn't care. They're supposed to be busy preparing anyways. Adler's hand fell to his side, slightly clenching before relaxing as you raised your gaze. Not to his eyes, to his chest that moved up and down with each breath like yours did, human. You kept your eyes there. "I know what's at stake. Why do you think I—you must think low of me. If you think my feelings are so important to me that I will jeopardize everyone's chance of life and to breathe."

"Bell," he said tiredly, hoarsely as if he was Atlas shouldering the world and with a cautious step towards you only to stop when you took a step back. "You know what I mean."

No you don't. You never did. You never knew anything.

You don't even know your name.

"Damaged goods."

You raised your eyes and met his eyes through his tinted aviators evenly.

"I'll do what I must when we're there. Just like always. I'll have your back—" Like always, but that only counts for these few weeks and not years, doesn't it? "—and make sure Perseus is stopped. That's what brought you here so far."

You turned your back towards him, keeping everything else inside as you walked towards Hudson. Adler watching you for a moment before following after you, at your side as you touched a map and ignored Hudson's daggers for a gaze as well as how attentively Ru—your frien—your teacher—your—how attentively he listened and told Hudson to stop with the sharp questions your way that at times sound like accusations with a drag of a cigarette. You ignored it all.

Including the mix of nicotine and woody cologne that used to bring you comfort but only made you want to throw up.

You don't feel...anything.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✪ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✪ ✯ ✯

You rubbed your eye with one hand, your main assault being gripped with the other as you and the team moved throughout the forest. The wind irritating you as you stood at the bed of the car, maintains alertness.

"Best to not irritate it, kid." You wanted to retort that the wind was doing that, but you lowered your hand all the same. Gripping your weapon with both hands as you stared at the horizon, slowly seeing the monastery where you knew could end the world. You wanted to laugh at the irony, you think you did since Adler tilted his head towards you, face painted as it was. It didn't hide the imprints of his facial scars. "Something funny?"

You were tired, and tired of being tired, so you answered with lips slightly curled as you stared ahead. Your face being aglow due to the already approaching orange light from fire, gunfire or otherwise ahead.

"Just how of all places, we're going towards holy ground to some and turn it to dust. Because said holy ground has the power to destroy everything. What would the future philosophers say?"

He seemed to find it funny too, chuckle sounding more like a rumble next to you. You glanced at him and turned away just as quickly when you spotted his upturned lips, looking down at his boots that were much larger compared to yours.

"I'm sure Perseus knew what he was doing with that. Thinks himself as a god. Too bad for him he's just the devil with broken wings and never going to fly again." You lifted your head, couldn't help but to look at Adler after that statement. You didn't take him as a Biblical man. "As for philosophers," He shifted his feet and you could tell he wanted a light based how his hand went to his pants only to move back towards holding the bar to keep you and both steady in the back of vehicle if need be. "Well, never was quite one myself. But it won't matter. No one will be none the wiser about what will happen."

"What will never happen," you couldn't help but correct, your eyes peering over at him and meeting that clear piercing gaze of his again.

The both of you stared at each other for a few moments, and since you found out the truth, an understanding went between you two—unsaid.

A wry smile tugged at his lips and you couldn't help but do something similar.

"Nice to have that optimism, kid. Guess we're two peas in a pod, since Hudson likes to call me optimistic." He seemed to sober than, face carefully neutral and making your lips fall. "Let's do our best to keep it."

After that, the radio silence to the Soviet Union started. Twelve minutes ticking as you ran with Mason, Woods, and Adler. But always a step behind or forward with Adler, especially when it just became the two of you against all those men. The handheld turret gun seeming to rock your body as you sprayed it everywhere, to the enemies that were perhaps once comrades but are too narrow minded due to pride of being Russian and hate towards the United States and must now be taken care of. You placed the last C4 to the AA gun, the warnings of danger close to your ear as Adler yelled at you, rushed you and frantic as he motioned at you, for you to move.

You turning to see a wave of red and orange coming towards you, the heat on your face and your body as the force of the explosion hit you back so harsh you couldn't breathe.

Ah.

So this is how you die.

Being too close to heat. Not aware of being burned away. Does that make you Icarus? Perseus—the devil with no wings. You—with ones you attempted to create and just hope you don't fall, which would make...

What would it make Russel?

You didn't ponder much on it, you couldn't because you were promptly knocked out. And you were tired. You were satisfied with this—a quick death and one with meaning. A success.

"Only a grave can cure a hunchback."

But you're no mere hunchback. You're a survivor.

You survived Arash's bullets.

Survived an interrogation with the CIA, survived MK—Ultra.

Survived Volkov.

Ukraine. Lubyanka. Cuba.

So when you came to under heated metal, Hudson's voice to your ear, you couldn't help but sigh at your luck. How much longer can you do this?

You heard Woods' voice, the metal atop you moving only to see Adler's hand which you grabbed. Everything aside, you're alive. As well as millions of other people as Adler said in his speech to you, Mason, and Woods.

Yet, you couldn't help but think you should be weary at your luck.

There's always an ending to it somewhere. You just don't know where exactly it will fall.

When backup came, Adler decided he wanted to take a detour with you as the sun began to rise. The others didn't think anything of it, too heavy in their celebrations of what they were able to stop despite Perseus not being found. The drive was silent, your eyes wanting to close as exhaustion wanted to come over you.

You were still recovering from your injuries in Cuba. And what your body went through with the drugs in your system—to almost dying once more.

You were tired.

You wanted to sleep.

"Keep your eyes open for me, Bell." You blinked lazily before blinking again as you fixed your head to keep it level and not bent towards the window. He sounded tired too, one hand to the wheel and the other moving to your shoulder. Doing one squeeze. The comforting grip he always did made you want to automatically slump over. "We're almost there. I want to show you something."

"Is it...important?" You mumbled tiredly through a yawn, moving to stretch so you could stay awake. Adler's hand didn't move from your shoulder as you turned and tilted your head. "Adler?"

He put his hand down, instead in the middle between you two as he leaned against the armrest. An odd turn of the lips.

"Not in the direct sense of the word, no. You'll like where we're going. Trust me."

"Do not trust Adler. He is lying to you."

He did. He did lie.

What he did will never be okay. But when you fought together despite that, and he had your back like you did his—how it was meant to be—and that look of understanding where they both will never be remembered by the public for what they did or will do for their country—it's yours now too, isn't it—and he saved you when he could've left you for dead right there in Solovetsky.

You did what you instinctively did, whether implanted or learned now.

You put your trust in him.

You ignored your weariness when he brought you to a cliff overseeing the moving sea, with its crystal blue arctic waters and the sun overhead shining. The air refreshing as Adler said.

You swallowed back your thundering heart as it pounded as Adler threw his cigarette away.

"You're a god damn hero, you know that kid?" The praise and how he said it so reverently made you want to beam as he turned his back towards you, and yet—you grazed your hand to your hip, teeth biting your inner lip. "Heroes have to make sacrifices. That's why when I ask you for one more, I hope you understand," he turned his head back towards you, the side with his sidearm hidden from you. The wind moved that sweeped straw hair and please, please, please—let him not save you only to—"It was never personal."

His hidden hand moved just as yours did, tears in your eyes and your head pounding as their weapons moved to face the other's chest.

"You're up for this?"

"I knew I could count on you."

"I need Bell."

"Take your time, kid. You will figure it out."

"I know you got this."

"You're still one of us."

You moved your finger to the trigger, only for that refreshing arctic air to move downwind towards you. You inhaled nicotine and cologne and hesitated—a shot ringing out and a cry from your lips as you dropped your pistol. Knees to the ground, hand to your chest that bloomed red and went towards your hand.

"Damaged goods."

You let out a frustrated whine, hunching over as gravity tried to take you down. Tears went down your face as you shakily with panted exertion looked up at—at—.

He stared down at you in a face you could only read as pity despite how he tried to hide it with apathy and if you didn't already have a hold in your chest, you're sure your heart is cracking.

"W...hy...?" You asked, desperate for a reason.

Why save you in Solovetsky? Why couldn't he just leave you to die there, instead of taking you to this beautiful scenery with equally pretty words and a kind tone?

Did him torturing you in your interrogation and with MK-Ultra not enough? He must bring you false hope and safety in death too?

"From one woman to another, give him a wide berth."

"Do not trust Adler. He is lying to you."

"I know you got this. Hudson doesn't trust anyone he can't control."

Was it all about control to you? Just a dog with its master eager to please? An experiment meant to be forgotten and thrown?

He stared at you before he knelt in front of you, hand to your shoulders as he quietly shushed you and you swiped a hand away only to not be able to do it again as he moved you to lay down fully. You facing the sun and sea, your back to his chest as he practically held you up as he told you to come on and you especially think he's cruel now.

How dare he touch you like this now?

What you always wanted—needed—only to have it as you take your few breaths. Wetness were on your cheeks, both of salt and copper as you withheld a sob.

"This is not something I wanted to do, Bell." He finally spoke, voice to your ear and it was husky as always and he sounded tired. But he doesn't get to be because he—he—. "I know you understand why, you and me...we're a lot alike when it comes to what we'll do for our country. What we both have done. Which is why you must also know...you and me..." His hands holding you to his form moved from your waist to your stomach and you let out a bloody cough as you started choking for air but you have to hear—what does he have to say—"...this is as far the both of us go like this, kid. It would've never worked. You know that, right?"

No, no. It could've.

It could've.

You wanted to thrash, to yell, hit him where it hurts but you felt yourself fading and strength weakening as you could only move your lips. Nothing able to come out. He must've noticed, because your body was growing heavy and you couldn't move so he moved you up slightly and fully laid you down by the log next to the flowers to see the sun. Him standing over you and face carefully neutral and stoic as your heavy eyelids wanted to close but stayed determined to stare up at him.

"Maybe another life, kid. Or whatever those philosophers say."

Your vision clouded as you wanted to scream.

Why, why, why—why it couldn't be this life—why did you lie—why isn't Vietnam real to me when I have all the memories, why did all of you lie!

"It was never personal."

It was to me!

And yet, despite your urge to cry and shout and take him with you instead of leaving you alone like this, you felt numb once more. As you stared as the sun's rays touched the ocean and the arctic wind brushed your face but you couldn't feel it anymore.

If you were truly Icarus, you must fly to the life where everything was simpler and truth was truth and that was that.

You took your last breath, watery (e/c) eyes dulling.

✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ▷ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯ ✯

Only to gasp, harsh and like you were punched as you sat up so fast your vision swam. Heart thundering in your chest—it's thundering, it's beating—as the chair you were on creaked. You distantly heard something break beside you, your gaze wildly looking down to see a broken coffee mug with the dark liquid spreading on the grey floor—grey floor, grey walls, fluorescent lights, the thrum of an old generator—you froze when aviators glinted towards you, scarred face a tad pinched in concern as he stood over you.

"What's wrong, kid?"

You stared, open mouthed. Closed. Open.

You heard steps from behind Adler, Park tilting her head at you with concern as well as she crossed her arms. Scarf hiding the thin scar.

"Bell? You feeling alright? Did we push you too hard about Da Nang?"

"Who would feel okay after all that?" Sims voice piped up from the back as a chain holding a punching back swiveled. Defensive and distant because you didn't—you weren't—were—did—"Can't exactly expect for everything to be water under the bridge when it comes to that place."

"Should I get take out now than?" You heard Lazar—Lazar, kind and soft eyed Lazar, alive—mutter loudly. A clearly horrible whisper. "There's this place I want to try out with these pastries—"

"You're horrible, man." Sims commented with a laugh only to quiet when Adler raised a hand not holding his cigarette. Taking a drag as he assessed you as you could only stare—they're at the safe house, talking about Da Nang, it happened, it was real, it was real to you, it happened—as he tilted his head a tad as he blew.

"You looking pale, Bell." Yes, Bell's your name. Your true one, it was real—that's your name—his concern is real and so is everyone else's. "Is Park right? Are we pushing you too hard?"

No, no. This is...

You're fine. It's nothing.

You touched your head which throbbed, you wincing as you did so. Your eyes spotting the documents on the desk you fell asleep on—asleep, a dream, a nightmare, a world that never could be because this is real—and seeing you must've knocked out due to everything.

Nonetheless, your lips were in a calm smile that hopefully didn't appear cracked at the edges even as Adler paused from taking another drag of a cigarette.

"No," you cleared your throat when your voice wobbled and continued with force. "You know you can always count on me, sir. It was just a nightmare. Nothing important."

"A nightmare...? Must've been a hell of a one. Looked like you saw a ghost." Your eyes turned towards Lazar automatically, who waved at you and motioned towards the paper in his hand so he could get food no doubt. "Bell." You turned back towards Adler who stared down at you with brows furrowed, sharing a glance with Park before turning back towards you. "If you're sure I can trust you on this." Taking a step and placing a hand to your shoulder—touch is warm and what you always wanted and needed, the feeling of your limp body being held up by his arms—

You flinched. Hard. Falling back with the chair as you breathed, chest heaving as everyone's gazes turned down towards you. Focusing as Adler kept his hand in the air, eyes narrowing behind his brown tinted glasses as your wild eyes calmed. Standing up in a hurry, leaning against the desk with the stray documents and your messy handwriting with notes.

"It's—I—sorry, Russ—Adler—I—" you laughed bitterly, hand to your eye out of habit now and to hide from everyone's concerned gazes. What's wrong with you? Because of some stupid dream. "It's fine. I'm fine. I can finish my work in a bit so I can get out of your way." You picked up a paper as if to show with a smile you didn't quite feel, only your eyes to squint at the familiarity of it.

Wait, this is a lot like—

Adler grabbed the paper from your hand before you assess more, face hard.

"I don't think so. Come with me."

Adler moved and you followed, Park catching your gaze and you forming an embarrassed smile as she rose a brow with a hand to her chin as you moved passed her. You doing the same with Sims and Lazar only for you to pause when Adler held the door open to the med room—office, it's just an office with supplies if things go bad, it was just a dream—you moved forward, eyes to the IV stands as if they personally wronged you as Adler closed the door.

Which they didn't. It was nothing.

Everything is real here, not there.

"You with me, Bell?" Adler snapped his fingers close to your face, you blinking your wide eyes as you nodded strongly with an of course as your CO looked at you, doubtful. "No. You're not. That nightmare did a number on you. Flinching even from a friend? What was it about?" He moved to sit against the desk as he gave you the chair.

You stayed standing. Your lips formed into a smile.

"It's nothing—"

"Don't give me that crap. It wasn't. What happened in the dream, Bell?"

You stared at Adler, his eyes piercing you even through shades. You sighed, sitting down heavily against the chair as you held your head.

"It...my imagination just went wild. Maybe going straight to decoding after doing the memory exercise of Da Nang drained me. This whole Perseus business...I just want it to be over."

"You and me both," Adler said, tapping his cigarette's ashes off before throwing it in the trash within the room and leaning forward. "So the dream was about Vietnam? Perseus? Both?"

You thought of war and blood and Perseus and nodded.

It wasn't really a lie. All the battles reminded you of Vietnam. What happened in Cuba especially.

"You're not telling me something. You holding out on me?" You raised your head, eyes round as you quickly shook your head.

"No! No, I just...it," you clenched your gloved hands on your lap, eyes to the floor as Adler stayed quiet and listened. He always did. "...I died from a gunshot. That's why I woke up."

Adler hummed, staring at you as he tapped his finger twice on the desk.

"That will make anyone jittery." You tilted your head down in a semblance of a nod. It was more than that but he doesn't have to know, it will only hurt him. "That doesn't explain your harsh reaction to me touching you though." You tensed. "You can tell me anything. I won't judge you for it. You don't have to hold back."

You should've known.

He always gets what he wants.

"...you—you held me as I bled out." You choked out, swallowing back wetness to your eyes and feeling your throat clogged as you peered up at Adler with your lashes. You saw his brow furrow at that. "It...you held m—me...till I couldn't move anymore. Y-you...you said goodbye."

"Maybe another life, kid."

Stop it. It wasn't real. Just a dream.

You're here now. And he is too and everything is fine and real and true.

"...One hell of a nightmare." Adler commented lowly as you bowed your head in shame. You shouldn't have been affected so much. You never were affected by nightmares before, how is this one different? It felt so real—"I'm not going to lie to ya, kid. I have those sometimes too. Just keep your chin up and remember I'm here if you need to talk to someone."

You look up, eyes wide at his admittance as he stood from the desk and moved towards the door.

Even Adler feels like this, too? Of course he does, what are you thinking?

America's Monster is just a moniker. He's human too.

He turned his head towards you as he opened it, you standing up as he did so.

"I won't touch you the rest of the day. I'll tell the others too. We don't need you reliving that. Especially since you're determined to keep on going."

Your lips lifted slightly, grateful for his kindness.

"Thank you, Russ."

He stared at you for a moment before turning his head back, keeping the door open for you as you went through.

"Don't thank me yet," Adler said,shades glinting. "We got a job to do."

You froze.

"We got a job to do."

Feeling far away, not quite here and not quite there and just moving without a thought like a puppet with strings and just doing the motions like a dog eager for praise and a pat to the head.

The sensation never came though, as you blinked with brows furrowing. Adler watching you from the corner of his eye as you fidgeted with the end of your gloves on your wrist before blinking again.

You're so messed up in the head.

It's his catch phrase. His slogan. It's not...anything else.

Everything else in the dream is fake. False. A nightmare.

This is real.

You internally shook your head, throwing the quiet Adler another smile as you went back to your desk to finish what you were doing. Adler's penetrating gaze not straying from your form once as you did so.

You fixed the chair that you fell back on, sitting atop it and turning the lamp on. Focusing back to the document you were staring at earlier that looked sour it couldn't be. You picked it up, staring at it and your mouth got dry.

This piece of information...it's for...

The headline of the fifty two hostages and Ronald Reagan flashed at you, the coded message clear for you to see—what you need for Operation Chaos.

Your hand shook as you held the newspaper, crinkling it tight as you stared.

Not a dream.

.

.

.

I finished Call of Duty: Cold War and I don't think any of the COD games ever made me feel this lost and needy for fanfiction.

I think I've read every single good Adler x Bell fic out there. Both completed and ongoing.

I've never felt this kind of black hole in my heart. I don't think I've ever become this attached to a COD character before, the closest I guess is between Mason and Woods and Ghost.

Anyways. Here I go into an Angst Train.

I love video games, and I think the Undertale view of games and resets is perfect for Bell.

Why?

Because I like pain. That's why.

Let's go through this journey together shall we?

I don't know how long this is going to be. I'm just going.

(I cried so many times from this chapter alone, Adler—what have you done to me and Bell—)