Perhaps you had gone too far. Entering the SAS just to smuggle intel from them to your true faction was already a huge commitment, and you decided to make things worse, both thanks to your decisions and the influence of the group you truly worked for, by adding your feelings to the mix.

You expressed with all your heart that marrying the Lieutenant of 141 was just a tactic to exploit the delicate inner crevices of the British Forces, that it was a dedicated method to garner more information to the faction you worked for instead of a lapse of judgement because of goddamn love, and they warned you, they did, that such a step would have consequences.

And now you stand still, unmoving as the man you married under the guise of it being a 'strategy' but was really for your human want of love, stood before you, in shock, in disbelief, having found the documents you kept that detailed the mission, that had your real name, that specified that, all in all, you are a traitor. The mole they couldn't suspect.

"Explain to me what the bloody hell all 'is is." he growled as you stared in shock, and you yelped as he smacked your face.

"Tell me this isn't real. Tell me that all these years 'aven't been for nothing."