Cookie Writes

“10-13 at...Taylor’s Jewelry...shots fired...at police,” Jamie reported into his radio breathlessly, dropping his head back against Eddie’s thigh.  His partner continued to shout orders, firing a warning shot when one of the unarmed thieves tried to dart past her.  He tried to lift his gun as well, but knew that his aim would be too shaky to be effective.

“Mind telling them to roll a bus while you’re at it, Boy Scout? I’d do it myself but between keeping the blood inside you and these idiots from taking any more shots, my hands are a little full,” Eddie bit out, desperation thinly veiled behind her anger.

Before he could, though, sirens echoed and the faint red and blue of police lights flickered in the distance, and the demeanor of the room changed.  The thief with the gun tensed, which had Jamie tensing as well.  “Son of a bitch! There’s no way we’re getting out the front now...and I’m sure they’ll try to cover the back too.”

“Let’s take them with us, some leverage to get us clear.”  Eddie turned her gun on him when he leaned their direction, and Jamie’s mind went into overdrive.

“You don’t need both of us,” the blonde man growled, forcing himself to sit up despite Eddie’s attempts to push him back down.  “Let her walk...just take me.  I’m all the leverage you need.”

He winced when she pressed harder against his now-bandaged wound.  “If you don’t shut up, Jamison, I will shoot you myself.”  

“And what makes you so special, cop?”

“Jamie!” Eddie hissed, panic clear as he held her gaze.  Tears filled her eyes despite what he knew was a colossal effort on her part.  He held her stare as he responded, silently asking for her forgiveness.

“I’m the youngest son...of the Police Commissioner of New York City. I’ll go quietly...if you let her go.”  He finally turned to look back at the perps expectantly.

The ringleader lowered his weapon and canted his head, seriously considering the offer.  Eddie pressed her forehead against the base of Jamie’s skull, and he could feel her trembling.  It killed him to put her in this position, but he’d rather her hate him for this than put her at even greater risk.  “Please don’t do this, Reagan…” she begged, voice finally breaking.

“When have you ever let me down, Janko? You and Danny will have this handled in no time,” he murmured quietly before returning his attention to the man now looming over the partners.  “Do we have a deal?”

“Go on, sweetheart, run off and tell your bossman that we have his kid and will be in touch.”  The man reached down and jerked Jamie to his feet, ignoring the uncontrollable yelp of pain.  Eddie scrambled up as well, gun aimed at the man holding her partner.  Warm steel pressed against Jamie’s temple, but he refused to flinch away.

“It’s okay, Janko...please, go,” Jamie insisted gently.  He could read the despair in her eyes, and knew how difficult it was for her to take each step backwards, away from the perps and towards the safety of the NYPD cars screeching to a halt by the front doors.  With any luck, his brother, also working the graveyard shift, would pick up on the situation and be one of the first responders.  Eddie would need family there to back her up.

Edit Janko could not remember a time that she’d felt so terrified and helpless as she backed away from her partner, barely upright in the arms of a damned jewelry thief, watching her with all of the confidence and trust and reassurance she’d ever seen in his eyes.  Part of her hated him for playing the hero...but then he wouldn’t be her favorite boyscout if he’d done any different.  “Officer coming out,” she called over her shoulder, eyes not leaving Jamie’s until the perp jerked Jamie around to the back door.

“Make sure they give us clearance, lady cop, or your partner is dead!”  

As she backed out through the doorway, a hand settled on her shoulder and startled her.  “Easy, Eddie, I’ve got you...where’s Jamie?” Danny’s voice was both soothing and nauseating; how could she tell him to call off the rescue of his injured baby brother? She turned to face the detective, and smothered a sob.

“T-they took him...we have to let them go or they’ll kill him.  H-he said he would ‘be in touch’ with your father…”  Danny, suddenly pale and tense, glanced over to Baez who immediately began calling for the rest of the responders to stand down before returning his attention to Eddie and gently tugging her gun from her shaking hands.  

That was when he apparently noticed the blood. “Eddie, are you hurt?”

Eddie finally looked down, and nearly threw up at the deep glistening red staining both hands.  “It’s...it’s not mine.  It’s not mine, Danny...he took a bullet for me, and then surrendered himself for leverage to protect me...Goddamn boy scout…” This time, she failed to hold back her sob.  Danny grasped both shoulders, and ducked his head until she met his gaze.

“Hey, hey, Eddie, look at me.  This is not on you, do you hear me?  This is who Jamie has always been...hero is ingrained in his brain.  Let’s get you back to the precinct, get your formal statement and get you cleaned up while we wait to hear from the PC.”  She heard his words, but could not help but to blame herself for her partner being taken hostage.  Baez guided her to their sedan, and eased her into the backseat, careful to steer clear of her hands.  

The ride to the precinct was a blur; memories of the pain lining Jamie’s face flashed across her mind repeatedly, along with other things she could’ve done to prevent...this.  It wasn’t until the door was opened for her that she realized they’d arrived, and Baez’s sympathetic face brought her from her thoughts. Get it together, Janko...his family must be going through so much worse right now.  Despite the attempts to shake herself from her thoughts, Eddie didn’t even notice when she was led to a chair.  

All she could see was the red, suddenly back in her line of vision as her hands draped between her knees.  A morbid sense of awe seemed to settle onto her shoulders as she lifted her hands, numbly observing how it had pooled into the lines of her palms.  Jamie’s blood...her best friend’s blood...and she’d just abandoned him to be taken by jewelry thieves willing to shoot their way through a couple of cops.  

“What did I say about blaming yourself, hm, Officer Janko?”

Tears burned at the backs of Eddie’s eyes when Danny knelt before her, a gentleness to his voice that she’d never heard before.  “How can you be so comforting to-to the person responsible for the abduction of your brother?”

“Jamie always says you’re too stubborn for your own good.  I haven’t been quite where you’re at, but I’ve been close...and I know how much that wrecked me.  I didn’t have to fight to keep my partner alive only to be forced to walk away from them anyway.”  He glanced down at her hands, and steely resolve tightened his features.  “I’ll have my time to freak out once we get him back.  Right now, I know that there are two things that Jamie would expect me to do: make sure you’re okay, and bring him home.  Since I can’t do the second part until those assholes make contact, I’ll take advantage of the time to focus on the first part.  He’ll kick my ass if I let anything happen to you.”

Eddie gave a wet laugh, and scrubbed at her cheek with the back of her hand, belatedly realizing that it would streak blood on her face, which seemed to be her tipping point, and a sob wrenched from her chest.  “God, Danny...I just walked away from him...I just left him bleeding, couldn’t do anything to stop the perp when he pulled Jamie out of my arms. I...what if we don’t get to him in time? What-”

“Come here, c’mere,” Danny insisted, shifting to his chair beside her and drawing her against his side.  “There is nothing that you can do to change Jamie’s mind once he’s made it up.  Why don’t you walk me through what happened?”

She sighed heavily, desperately trying to calm her breathing and process what was going on in her mind.  “We responded to an alarm at the store, Jamie ordered them to exit.  W-when they failed to comply, we approached.  One of the men turned a weapon on us, which is when Jamie knocked me back and took the bullet.  I trained my gun on the perps while also trying to apply pressure bandages to the wound, which Jamie was able to help me with.  When they saw the lights coming they panicked, and when one of them mentioned taking us, Jamie told them he’d go quietly if they let me go...because he’s the commissioner’s son.”

“That sounds like my youngest,” a deep voice intoned from behind them.  Eddie’s head snapped around to see the commissioner, and before she could even make the move Danny could feel her prepare for, Frank stepped forward and waved his oldest son away and smoothly took his place in the chair beside her.  

“Sir...I can’t say how sorry I am for letting this happen...Jamie-”  The blonde was stunned into silence when her partner’s father pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and took one hand gently, wiping his son’s blood clean the best that he could.  The tender gesture felt like forgiveness that she didn’t deserve, and brought on a whole new round of tears.

“Jamie made a judgement call in the middle of a dangerous situation to eliminate the threat to his partner.  You are not to blame for this...we will find the men responsible and bring my son home, and you will be right there beside Danny when we do.”  He cleaned her other hand with just as much care.

Brother, let me be your shelter Never leave you all alone I can be the one you call When you’re low Brother, let me be your fortress When the night winds are driving on Be the one to light the way Bring you home

“Hey Spense, man got a sec?” Ray called as he approached his teammate, passing Sonny and Davis as they left the table to dance.  Clay gestured to the seat Sonny had just abandoned with an easy smile and took a long drink from his beer.  Ray hated the thought that he might erase that contentment from his brother.  “I, uh...I ran into Stella at the store, found out she’s living in town now.”

Clay dropped his chin to his chest with a sigh before looking back up, and Ray was able to see that he’d already known.  “Yeah...I ran into her myself, right before we spun up last week.  Thanks for giving me the heads up, though.”

“I didn’t want to have to tell you, but I’d rather that than you get blindsided if I could’ve helped it.”  It was the thought, right?  “How are you doing with that?”

Clay shrugged, drew another pull of beer, and this time his smile was not quite so genuine.  “It caught me off-guard when I first saw her, haven’t really felt right at my apartment since, but I’m figuring it out.  I stopped going to our usual spots and haven’t run into her yet, so it’ll be what it’ll be I guess.”

Ray didn’t like the thought of Clay being so disoriented by the fact that he now had to worry about running into Stella.  “You know our couch is-”

“Clay! Hey, kiddo, thought I might catch you here!”

The voice that interrupted them had Clay rolling his eyes, and the heavy hand that came down on his shoulder had the blonde flinching.  Ray tensed and rose to his feet, eyes shifting to the elder Spenser.  “We haven’t met, Ashland...but your reputation certainly precedes you.  Senior Chief Ray Perry,” he supplied, though he didn’t move when Ash offered a hand to shake.  “Might I offer a word of advice?”  Still somewhat oblivious to the fact that the man before him was not being friendly, Ash nodded, only mildly put off by Ray’s stoicism.  “You’d be wise to leave now, before the rest of the team realizes that you’re here.  None of us trust you, and believe me when I tell you that I am the most level-headed when alcohol is involved.  And trust me...there has been plenty of it tonight.”

The elder Spenser floundered for a moment, looking to Clay and finding his son staring down at his beer.  Ray crossed his arms over his chest and raised an expectant brow, eyes leaving Ash only long enough to locate the rest of the team.  With a disbelieving huff, Ash raised his hands in surrender and was gone.  Clay finally looked up to meet his 2IC’s gaze, and Ray found himself tempted to follow Ash out into the night for the vulnerability in his blue eyes.  They nodded wordlessly to one another, and Ray tapped his beer bottle lightly against his younger teammate’s.

Face down in the desert now there’s a cage locked around my heart I found a way to drop the keys where my failures were Now my hands can’t reach that far I ain’t made for a rivalry I could never take the world alone I know that in my weakness I am strong, but It’s your love that brings me home

“Spenser, if you don’t stop squirming I’m going to friggin’ sedate you,” Trent growled as he pinned his injured teammate’s shoulder down, using the move to immobilize and apply pressure simultaneously.  “They’ve got the situation under control, which they would’ve been able to do in another couple of minutes if you hadn’t gone all self-sacrifice and gotten yourself shot!”

“There were-”

“They’ve got every exit covered, kid. Hey, Clay, look at me.”  The medic waited until the younger man complied.  “Stand down, let me patch you up.”  The command finally seemed to sink in, and Trent eased up on his grip so that he could focus on tending to the through-and-through in Clay’s shoulder.  “What the hell were you thinking, exposing yourself like that?”

He wasn’t really expecting a reply, but the one he got spoke volumes - both in his words and tone.  “Couldn’t get a warning out fast enough, and better me than any one of you,” Clay muttered, finally allowing his head to drop back to the ground with a thunk.  Trent’s hands stilled for a moment until blue eyes gazed up at him.

“Okay, I’m going to say this once, and you’re going to listen, got it?” Trent had to take a slow breath to ease his simmering anger.  “If I ever hear that ‘better me than you’ bullshit again, I will kick your ass and then let Sonny take the second shot.  You are not expendable, Clay.”

The younger man hissed through his teeth when Trent was somewhat rougher than necessary.  “Tell that - easy, Trent! - tell that to my father…” Clay pounded his clenched fist against the ground as the medic applied a bandage over the front and tugged his shoulder to access the exit wound.  He tried to feel bad about causing his teammate pain, but Trent couldn’t help the anger coming through.

“I’d like to think you recognize that your father is an ass.  Did you ever stop to think what your little act of self sacrifice would do to your team? Your brothers?” Clay stared up at him, guilt and a touch of grief shining in his eyes.  He knew the younger man was likely remembering the feeling of almost losing Sonny.  Good, maybe he’d finally get it.  “You’re not just a member of some team, Spense.  We are a family.  We need each other, out here and at home.  So like I said,” he set a gloved hand against the side of Clay’s neck.  “You’re not expendable, brother.”  

Clay nodded solemnly, and Trent got back to work as the sound of their brothers wrapping up the firefight and calling for their status reached them.  

Brother, let me be your shelter Never leave you all alone I can be the one you call When you’re low Brother, let me be your fortress When the night winds are driving on Be the one to light the way Bring you home

Brock followed his dog out into the cool night, and smiled wryly when he saw where Cerberus ended up.  Clay started scratching behind the dog’s ear without looking away from the fire. His arm was still secure in its sling, something that surprised the canine handler; he’d given Trent a hard time on the flight home about making him wear the sling, so all of Bravo had been on alert to make him put it back on if they caught him without it.  Jason had restricted Clay to base while he healed, though Brock got the impression that it wasn’t much of an imposition.

“Finding the answers to life in that fire, Spense?”

“Somethin’ like that,” Clay murmured.  

Brock dropped into the seat next to his teammate and stared into the fire, giving him a moment before speaking again.  “So what’s the fire telling you tonight?”

The blonde sighed before answering.  “That maybe I’m not meant to be a SEAL and have love.”  Brock finally turned and looked at him, confused.  Clay ran a hand through his hair.  “I ran into Stella.  Seeing her just...brought things into perspective I guess.  Reminded me that nothing mattered more than the team.”

“You don’t think we are capable of having both?” Not that Brock could argue much, considering he hadn’t had a serious relationship since Green Team...but he also wasn’t looking for one.  With Stella, Clay had seemed like he’d have stuck it out.

“I mean look at our team.  Ray’s the only one capable of holding down a family...and that’s because his wife is a damn superhero.  I guess...I guess it’s just got me wondering if being a SEAL dooms us to a life of broken relationship and loneliness.”

Brock studied Clay’s face, unable to discern exactly where his thoughts were taking him.  “If it does...the team still worth it?”

“Always,” Spenser answered firmly, finally seeming to snap out of his trance.  “Like I said, seeing Stella brought that into focus for me.  You guys are my family, and she wasn’t prepared to come second. Who’s to say that’s not how it’ll always be?”

“I dunno, brother...but I can promise you that you’ll never be without family.  Might get lonely when we’re home sometimes, but you can always call me, Sonny, Trent…”  Clay grinned over at him, and Brock glared when the blonde reached for the strap of his sling.  “Oh ho ho, no you don’t pretty boy.  I am your brother and you know I’ve always got your back, but don’t think for a second I won’t rat you out to Trent if you take that thing off.”

And when you call and need me near Sayin' where'd you go? Brother, I'm right here And on those days when the sky begins to fall You're the blood of my blood We can get through it all

“Has anyone seen Spenser? He hasn’t responded to my texts or answered my calls all morning,” Jason called as he entered the gym where the rest of the team - minus their youngest - was working out.  They all glanced at one another, stopped what they were doing and collectively shook their heads.

“What’s up, Jase?” Ray questioned.

“Another late night interview with Ash last night about a last minute addition that he’s putting into his book before it gets released...he talked about the Korea fiasco.  Never outright names Clay, but…”

“But it’s enough to implicate him for sharing top secret information about a highly classified mission...son of a bitch!” Sonny punched the bag in front of him as hard as he could, not nearly satisfied by the hit thanks to the cushioning of his gloves.  “I’ll fucking kill him with my bare hands if I ever see that asshole.  What is Blackburn saying?”

“Blackburn is too busy hunting down the real leak to say much.  Just that we need to keep an eye on Clay, preferably on base so that he’s not blindsided if they decide they want him in custody before this blows up.  So we need to track him down, make sure he’s okay, and bring him here.  We’ll stay with him as long as we can.  I’m heading to his apartment now.”  The defeated tone of their leader’s voice only fueled Sonny’s rage, and he tore his gloves off and left them on the floor.

“Whoever finds him, text the rest of us.  I’ll look here on base.”  Sonny didn’t bother waiting to hear where the others were headed; knowing Clay, he’d be somewhere alone...but he wouldn’t risk the Navy thinking he’d taken off and making his situation even worse.  The kid was somewhere within the confines of the base.

Sonny wasn’t entirely surprised to find the young SEAL on the barracks roof, and he was just glad that the kid was far from the edge.  “You looking to put a hole in the ceiling? Cause I’m pretty sure you’ve already worn that patch down pretty well, Goldilocks.”

Clay barely glanced up at him, shaking his head and clenching his fists repeatedly as he paced.  The energy reminded him of a caged animal.  “Not now, Quinn,” he growled.  Fitting.  Sonny discreetly pulled out his phone to let Jason know the kid was safe.

“Exactly now, Spenser.  You’ve got the whole team out lookin’ for you.”  

He scoffed, but finally stopped to face his teammate head-on.  “Wouldn’t exactly be smart of me to look like I went AWOL right about now, would it?”  Clay gripped his hair and leaned back against the wall.  “Sonny, I didn’t-”

“Brother, if you finish that sentence, I will knock you out.  Didn’t think you’d been the blabbermouth before, sure as hell don’t think it now.”  He watched the younger man drop his head back against the bricks, and wished that he could wring elder Spenser’s neck in that moment.  Before Clay could smack his head against the wall, Sonny reached forward and grabbed his shoulders.  “We know you didn’t do this, Clay.”

“Tell that to the cake-eaters who are probably ready for my head on a pike...he set me up perfectly.”  Blue eyes reflected desperation and panic.  “First he sets it up to meet publicly when the interviews break about the Saudi mission.  Not supposed to be public knowledge, but not a big enough deal for them to do anything about it.  Enough to connect me to the bastard’s book.  Then...then when he comes out with the info about the Korea mission, they’ve already got me in the back of their minds.  So of course they’re going to look to me.  Of course I’d gloat about my missions to the father I could never please.  Of course…” His breath hitched, and tears filled his eyes.  Sonny moved his hands to either side of Clay’s face.

“This isn’t on you, Clay.  Which means it is on someone else, and believe me when I tell you we will not rest until we find the son of a bitch.  Bravo isn’t going to let this go down without a fight.”

Clay gripped Sonny’s wrists tightly, breaths becoming short and erratic.  “And if you can’t find them?  Sonny...when we almost lost you on that mission...I-I don’t think I’d ever been so scared.  You were right...this team, this brotherhood is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.  I’d been toying with the idea of giving it up for someone who wasn’t even prepared to stand by me...and now? Now I’m going to lose it anyway for something I didn’t even do.  For...for what, Son? What the hell did I do to Ash that he’s willing to get me thrown in Leavenworth?”  A tear slid down his cheek as he rambled, and Sonny tugged him forward to press their foreheads together.

“Breathe, Clay.  Your father is not your family.  We are your family.  He’s a fucking worthless piece of shit who is not going to win, do you hear me?  Family doesn’t do what he’s done...family protects one another, come what may.  We will not let you fall, brother.”  Sonny didn’t let the younger man go until he’d taken a few shuddering breaths and nodded his understanding.

Brother, let me be your shelter Never leave you all alone I can be the one you call When you’re feelin' low Brother, let me be your fortress When the night winds are driving on Be the one to light the way Bring you home

The court martial hearing was something of a blur to Clay.  After his conversation on the roof with Sonny, it hadn’t taken long for him to be taken into custody by the MP’s.  His entire team had been with him, sitting outside of their cages as they’d told Blackburn they would be.  They were sharing beers and swapping stories, waiting out what they all knew would be inevitable.  

His brothers rose with him when the time came, silently supporting him the only way they could.  Their commander and Ellis had been MIA at the time, and it wasn’t until the trial a week later that he understood why; with his brothers and members of support, Alpha and Charlie standing for him, Commander Blackburn presented evidence of the true leak.  A member of their support team embittered by what he considered to be the glory that the Operators stole from them.  

Jason Hayes could not identify a time when he’d wanted to strangle one Ash Spenser more than having to listen to his youngest teammate lament the perceived loss of his team and his career. Not if I have anything to say about it.

“Four, you need to hurry the hell up and get down here.  There should be room for everyone, might end up needing everyone...but the kid definitely needs you ASAP, Trent.  He’s delusional...talking to me like I’m his father but eyes staring right through me.”

“Shit,” Bravo Four muttered in response, repelling down into the space next to the team leader.  He tugged a glove off with his teeth and pressed the back of his hand to Clay’s forehead, which didn’t garner even the slightest response.  “He’s burning up…”  The medic shifted down towards their injured teammate’s leg, and the others carefully joined them in the tight space.

“I just don’t understand why, Dad...what did I do to make you want to ruin me?”

The question tore out Jason’s heart, made him imagine his own children asking something so vulnerable.  With a growl, he grabbed Clay’s face with both hands and leaned in close.  “Listen to me, Spenser...listen to my voice.  Ash isn’t here.  Bravo is here...your brothers are here.  Do you understand me, kid? Clay, look at me!” Slowly, pained blue eyes focused on him, and Jason felt a glimmer of hope as Sonny and Brock landed.  “That’s it, there he is...we’re not abandoning you, Clay.  We’ve got your six, brother...out here and whatever it takes to get this bullshit with your father out of the way once we get home.”  He looked up at Trent, whose face had gone pale and grim.  “This is going to hurt like hell, but the team is all here, and we’re going to get you home.  Do you understand me?” Clay slowly nodded, tears filling his eyes as reality seemed to finally sink back in.

“I’ve gotta pull the fabric away from his leg, and it’s not gonna be pretty.  This’ll be safer for all of us if you each take a limb and hold him steady.  If it’s a compound fracture, I’m going to have to set and splint it before we can move him,” Trent explained.  “Not liking the idea of giving him morphine with the hallucinations.”  The team deftly positioned themselves around their fallen brother, Sonny and Jason each bracing a shoulder while Brock took his uninjured leg and Ray offered the strap of his gun to Clay.

“Can’t help with the pain, brother, but this’ll help protect your teeth.  Open up…” The blonde obeyed with a shaky breath, and bit down once it was in place.  

Pained eyes turned to the team leader once more, and Jason couldn’t be sure if he was seeing Bravo One or his father again.  “We’ve got you, Spense.  You don’t need to be strong right now, let us take over from here brother.”

Clay watched him silently for a moment, breathing heavily through his nose, gaze seeming to pass in and out of focus, before he closed his eyes and dropped his head back onto Ray’s knees.  He reached up to wrap his fingers around Sonny’s and Jason’s wrists.  Bravo One clenched his jaw, sympathetic to his teammate’s impending agony, and nodded to Trent.  

“I’m sorry, kid…”  With quick and sure hands, the medic tore away the pant leg and yanked firmly on the bone, the resulting snap and barely-muffled scream sending Jason’s stomach rolling.  The wounded man arched against the rest of the team, and Ray leaned over him murmuring a soft prayer.  “Splint kit,” Trent called.  Sonny handed over the requested supplies with one hand, maintaining pressure on Clay’s shoulder with the other.  “I think the hallucination came from infection...where the bone broke through the skin is a mess; that combined with the fever...”  He didn’t need to say anything further.

The landing was smooth, as Bravo tended to function, and parachutes were deftly stowed away before anyone made a sound.  “Okay, Cerb is going to lead the way with the infrared cam, so Five you are going to take point.  Bravo Two, Bravo Six, you will be maintaining cover on our flanks as we move.  Three and Four, you’ll be with me in the back.  Understood?”  The chorus of ‘yessirs’ didn’t seem to satisfy Jason, and he turned to Clay.  “Six, are we clear?”

“Aye, Master Chief.” The unreadable expression in his team leader’s eyes confused Clay, but he didn’t have time to think on it as they had to move.  

The team moved in silence for what felt to Clay like forever.  Never before could he remember a mission feeling so long, so dragged out...it was as though he could feel every heartbeat drag out, feel every possible misstep that could be taken to bring on more frustration from his brothers.  He found himself grateful for the need for focus on their mission keeping them from lashing out at him like they’d done in the cages.

Just as color started to break through the black of the night, Cerberus and Brock finally brought the team to a stop.  “Six, get high, cover the exit,” Jason ordered.  Without waiting to hear the directions for the rest of the team Clay obeyed, ignoring further glares from his teammates.  As he crept silently towards a nearby building, carefully clearing the room as he stepped inside, his mind drifted to the team he’d just walked away from.  After losing Brian and Stella, and the non-existent relationship with his father, Bravo had been the only family Clay had left...but just like everything else he touched, that family was slipping through his fingers as well. He’d hoped that they, of anyone, would understand him, his position in all of the shit.  

A strange sound behind him had Clay whipping around, and he spotted movement ahead of the team.  “Bravo One, this is Bravo Six, you’ve got some unfriendlies coming your way, I’m not in position yet.  I-”

In an attempt to get a clearer view - and shot - of the threats to his teammates, Clay failed to notice the hole in the floor behind him, and when he made to step back, only air met his foot.  The weightlessness of freefall lasted longer than he remembered the last time he’d dropped through a hole in a floor, and this time his landing came with blinding pain in his right leg.  Shuddering breaths helped to quell the immediate nausea from the agony, until the scent of blood hit his nose and the blonde couldn’t repress the urge to vomit.  

Once he finished heaving to his right side, Clay took a moment to look around to ensure he was at least secure...wherever the hell he landed.  The lack of any formal structure led him to believe he’d fallen into some kind of sinkhole beneath the house.  “Shit,” he muttered to himself.  His head throbbed and his back ached, but neither source of pain came even close to his leg.  Shifting up to his elbows, Clay glanced down to see his pant leg torn open, revealing a sharp white shard of bone protruding through the skin.  “Fantastic…” He keyed his radio.  “Bravo One this is Six...I’m, uh...I’m stuck, fell through what’s gotta be a sinkhole.  Definitely went through more than just the basement...not gonna be able to get myself out...compound fracture to the right tibia.”  

He was silent for a moment, waiting for either a response, or the sounds of gunfire.  “Bravo team, does anyone copy? You guys clear up there?” Still nothing.  Shit. “Guessing by the continued lack of firefight, I’m going to assume...hope that my damn radio’s just busted again and I can’t hear you.”  The blonde gave it another moment.  “Bravo? HAVOC? Anyone?” The continued lack of response left him frustrated and fidgety, so Clay pushed himself back up on his elbows and heaved himself backwards towards the wall behind him.  What he wasn’t expecting - hello, compound fucking fracture - was the fresh explosion of pain that hurled him into darkness.

“Bravo Six this is Bravo One, do you copy?” Jason ducked his head around the corner to be sure that their visitors had moved on, frustration warring with worry at the lack of response from their youngest teammate.  “Damnit, Clay, answer me,” he hissed.  

“Now that the hostiles are clear of the area, someone needs to go after Six,” Blackburn commanded in their ears.  Jason nodded, and gestured for Sonny to do just that.  

“Bravo Three is entering the building, will report back any findings.  How is ISR looking, HAVOC?”

“Tango is still in place, no changes there. Exfil will get trickier the longer it takes to locate Six-”

“It’s no big deal, boss-man, we know he was too busy talkin’ to his daddy,” Sonny joked, coming into Clay’s cage to punch his shoulder as the rest of the team chuckled somewhat uneasily.  The Texan might as well have punched him, full force, in the gut...he’d never thought the team was bothered that he’d lingered after Sonny had been cleared out. Shock and helplessness had left him unsteady as they’d carried his teammate away, and he’d needed a moment to gather himself and process the fact that they hadn’t lost Sonny.  The orange cap had become something of an anchor in the week since that hellish day; he’d honestly found himself grateful that Sonny had yet to ask for it, the reminder that his family, his true family, was still intact.

And then his father had to ruin everything. Again.  He was going to lose his team, whether emotionally or by his removal, because of that asshole, and there was clearly nothing he would be able to say or do to stop it.

Lisa Davis watched the exchange from the doorway, and recognized the gravity of the moment...the potential that it had to break Bravo Team.  Clay was taking their words to heart, though she knew their reactions were borne of frustration towards the Brass for sending them out before Sonny could really recover from his traumatic incident and not towards Clay.  

After Sonny’s joke, the team fell back into tense silence and boarded the plane.  Clay set up his hammock as far back in the plane as he could. Davis noticed a familiar orange baseball cap tucked in his back pocket as he settled down and fell asleep, an attempt to avoid his teammates she was sure.

“Sonny, Jase,” Lisa called quietly once she was certain that he was actually sleeping.  She gestured for them to join her near the straps.  

“Hey Davis, what’s up?” Sonny drawled.  She hated how just his voice stirred emotions in her chest that they had yet to talk about - and wouldn’t be able to until they got back from whatever hell this latest mission was sure to bring.

“Are you pissed at Spenser?” Sonny’s face scrunched in confusion, and Jason rolled his eyes.

“Is this about what I said in the cages about the infirmary? I was pissed off about this whole fiasco, he was the easiest target to lash out at, kid knows not to take that shit to heart.”

“Yeah well he did,” Lisa snapped, crossing her arms over her chest.  “If any of you had bothered to pay attention to him, you might’ve noticed him completely shut down.”  The rest of the team started to gather, hearing the bite in her voice and realizing something was up.  “Starting with your comment about him not following to the infirmary,” she pointed at Jason first, then to Sonny.  “And then he really withdrew when you made the comment about his father.”

Sonny shook his head.  “Nah, I was just jokin’...”

“His father leaks a story about one of our missions and implies that Clay was his source before Korea...and apparently another story while you were out, which I’m sure he heard about as soon as you landed Stateside.”  Her gaze passed around the teammates, frustrated that none of them had picked up on their youngest teammate’s distress.  “He’s probably wrecked about it, and was looking to his team for support.  Instead he got accusations and snark about the very thing he’s afraid people think he’s guilty of.”

“We all know Ash is an asshole,” Ray insisted.  “Just like we all know that Clay would never betray us...he’s not his father…”

Lisa huffed.  Men. “Did anyone bother to let Clay know those things?  That you don’t believe his father like everyone else seems to?”  The lack of response was answer enough.  “That kid has spent his entire life in his father’s shadow, has spent his entire military career fighting to make the name Spenser mean something positive, but his old man has gotten in the way every single time he’s tried.  But with this new book, and these interviews where Ash is implicating his own son? The first time was easy enough to write off, but the second time not so much…” She shook her head.  “He is so used to people seeing the worst in him, seeing his father in him, and when he tried to make sure his team didn’t look at him like everyone else, you snapped at him and reinforced his belief.  Great teamwork there, boys.”  She turned to walk away from them, but stopped and spun back to Jason and Sonny.  “And as far as the infirmary shit is concerned, I wasn’t there, but I can tell how shaken he was by what happened in that sub.”  She turned her eyes to Sonny, who looked devastated himself.  “Even thinking his team has turned on him, he still holds on to your stupid lucky hat.  I haven’t seen him without it since you got home.”

Sonny’s flinch was somewhat satisfying.  Good, he needs to realize what’s going on with that kid.  “I...I just assumed it’d gotten left behind on the sub.”  Lisa gestured towards the other end of the plane.  Sonny turned and approached the blonde silently, clenching his jaw and sighing when he caught a glimpse of the hat in his brother’s back pocket.  He returned to the others with a fresh sense of dejection.  “Fuck.”

Quietly as she could, Stella began gathering supplies for sandwiches.  She’d just started setting everything up when she was startled into dropping the lunchmeat by heavy pounding at the door.  Sonny was on his feet in an instant, gun raised as though it had been in his hand the entire time he’d been sleeping.  Without a word the older man glance back and gestured for her to go to Clay, and she complied immediately.  Her boyfriend was, unsurprisingly, trying to push himself up with his less-injured shoulder.  Stella closed the door behind her with a sigh.

“Lay back down, this is why the guys are on rotation.  Sonny’s handling it.”

The sight that greeted him when he opened the door sparked anger in Sonny’s gut, and the fact that the man tried to shove past him - completely ignoring the gun aimed at his face - had the Texan ready to pull the trigger just for spite.  Steeling himself against Ash Spenser’s attempt to come into the apartment, Sonny smoothly tucked the gun away with one hand and planted a hand on Ash’s chest with the other.  “Uh uh, I don’t think so.”  The gray-haired man tried to smack his hand away unsuccessfully, indignance burning in his eyes.

“You are going to let me see my son or-”

“Or what exactly, Ashland?  I really hope you don’t think you actually intimidate me...no way in hell am I letting you in this apartment without Clay’s all-clear.”  Without another word, Sonny shoved the man backwards and shut the door, bolting it as Ash started pounding on it again.  The Texan growled under his breath; they’d all known it was only a matter of time before the elder Spenser showed up, he just hadn’t expected it to be within hours of Clay being released from the hospital.  Shaking his head, Sonny pulled out his phone and sent a text to Jason before heading into Clay’s room with a soft knock.

Stella was sitting next to him, hand on his clavicle to keep the younger man back against the pillows.  Both looked up, Clay’s face paler than he’d seen it in days.  “What’s up, Sonny?”

“What’s up is that you need to relax before you pull a stitch, you’re startin’ to look whiter than that sheet.  Daddy dearest is here, didn’t take too kindly to me tellin’ him he wasn’t allowed in.  I texted Jase, he should be on his way and I’m sure he’ll get the others here too, considering how much of a fuss Ash is gonna kick up.”

Clay dropped his head back against the headboard with a sigh.  “He’s not going to leave until you let him in, Son...might as well get it over with.”  Once again he tried to sit up, and once again Stella stopped him.

“Sonny’s right, babe, just the effort of trying to sit up has drained you.  You need rest, and that’s the last thing your father will let you have.  Let your team handle him.”  She smiled affectionately when he had to visibly work to keep his eyes open, proving her point and forcing him to obey.  “Stop fighting it.  Sleep,” she insisted, nails skimming along his scalp again in a soothing manner.  The SEAL sank into the mattress involuntarily, weakness and her ministrations stealing away any remaining hold he had on consciousness.

“Well damn, teach, I’ll have to remember that for future use...never seen him rack out so fast,” Sonny teased lightly, ignoring the faint sound of Ash knocking again.

Stella chuckled, settling Clay into a more comfortable position.  “First of all, if you ever attempt that and it works, I do not want to hear a word about it.  Second of all, pretty sure that was more his body telling him enough was enough than it had anything to do with me.”  Sonny gave her a skeptical look in response.

Jason Hayes turned the corner to Clay’s apartment fighting to maintain his calm; he’d heard more than enough about his youngest teammate’s father over the years, both as the disgraced former SEAL who wrote a book, and as the man that left Clay with intense daddy-issues.  It shouldn’t have been surprising that he’d show up on his son’s doorstep...but the Bravo Team leader wasn’t sure he’d be able to handle the man rationally after how close they’d come to losing Clay.

When his eyes landed on Ash Spenser in person for the first time, a rush of protectiveness hit him like a Mack truck.  The older man turned at the sound of his steps, face already flush with rage.

“Let me see my son.  Now.”  Well at least they didn’t need introductions, if the man assumed his connection to Clay before Jason had even approached.  

“Now is not a good time, getting him home has taken a lot out of him.”  Jason crossed his arms over his chest and straightened to his full height. Ash cowered subtly, but refused to budge from the door.  “How, exactly, did you know he is home?  His rescue wasn’t made public knowledge, let alone the fact that he’d been brought back Stateside, or released from the hospital for that matter.”  He made a mental note to bring this to Blackburn’s attention.  “I know for a fact that none of my team contacted you.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” the elder Spenser questioned smugly.  Jason clenched his hand under his arm to keep himself from punching the smirk off his face.  

“Because we believe in something called loyalty, and doing whatever it takes to protect our own.  Where Clay is concerned, that includes keeping you the hell away from him while he heals.”  He uncrossed his arms and stepped into Ash’s space, satisfied by the way the man flinched back in to the door.  “Let’s not pretend this has nothing to do with the fact that Clay was the subject of a POW ransom video.  After all, where were you when he was in a helo crash, or took a sniper round to the chest and lost his mentor in the same night? Couldn’t be bothered to go out of your way to check on him then, could you?”  He shook his head, wondering if his words were even making a difference.  “You don’t get to come around and suddenly play caring father because your son was on television.”

Ash became almost purple at his words, and attempted to rise to Jason’s challenge. “You know what? Fuck you, Hayes.  Where were you when all of this happened to my son?  What exactly did you do to stop those cartel assholes from taking him in the first place?”

“I was in the helo with him, and Clay saved my life,” Jason snapped, prepared to go to battle until the door opened behind Ash and Sonny slipped out into the hallway.

“Keep it the hell down, would you?!” he hissed, coming alongside Jason against the elder Spenser. “Your son was taken while defending his brothers, and nearly died to protect his country.  Now,” he growled, eyes flashing with the dare to argue, “his real family is going to get him back on his feet.”

Ash stared between the two, a growl rumbling in his chest.  His attention was drawn away from the SEALs in front of him, though, and Jason smirked.  The door directly behind him opened and he felt Derek’s imposing presence at his back, while the remaining members of Bravo (Davis included) rounded the corner together, Ray carrying a case of beer, Davis and Trent with bags of groceries and Brock keeping a loose grip on Cerberus’ lead.

“As I said, now is not a good time,” Jason repeated firmly.  Ash opened his mouth to respond, but snapped it shut again when Clay’s door opened.

All eyes turned to see the too-pale, hunched-over blonde subject of their argument, better arm around Stella’s shoulder and the brunette’s hand braced against his chest to keep him upright.  Clay seemed surprised to see everyone at his door.  Finally the elder Spenser deflated, recognizing that he was hopelessly outnumbered...and that Jason Hayes was ultimately right.  It was clear that his son was surrounded by far better family than he’d ever had in the past.  “It’s good to see you safe, son.  I’ll leave you and your team to it.”  Cerberus growled as Ash sulked away.

As soon as they were sure that Ash was gone, the entire team rounded on Clay to reprimand him for being out of bed with only Stella to keep him upright.  “What the hell, Spense?” Trent chastised, passing his bags to Stella and taking her place smoothly as Clay’s support.  “If you tore any stitches, I’m gonna kick your ass.  Let’s go, on the couch...give you some change of scenery from staring at a ceiling all day.”  Jason bumped fists with Derek, giving him a thankful smile, before joining the rest of the team in the apartment.  They moved around the apartment as they did on missions - like a well-oiled machine.  Even Stella and Davis maneuvered with the rest of the guys seamlessly; Trent had Clay propped on the couch with a chair at his feet, shirtless and bandage pulled back for inspection.  Sonny and Davis prepped snacks while Brock and Stella brought in extra pillows and chairs so that everyone could settle in for a movie night.

As he stood leaning against the door for a moment, Jason thought back on the fear and rage at seeing their youngest beaten for the world to see, of the vengeance the team wrought when they found him, of the relief when the doctor said that he would make a full recovery and eventually be back to full fighting strength.  The blonde in question met his eyes, and Jason watched several emotions pass through those baby blues: distress over the presence of his father, exhaustion over pushing himself too hard, relief over the rallying presence of his team, his brothers, Stella...gratitude that they stood alongside him, in front of him against the man that had caused him so much pain in his lifetime. Their gaze was broken when Stella tucked herself in next to Clay, opposite Trent, and drew her boyfriend’s attention.  She rested her forehead against his for a long moment, murmuring something softly to him and earning a tired smile and tender kiss in response.

Both turned their attention to the soft knock at the door.  “Hello there, SO1 Spenser, it’s good to see you alert. My name is Kelly. How are you feeling?”  A petite brunette walked in, clipboard in hand, and glanced at Lisa.

“Please, call me Clay.”  The nurse nodded with a kind smile.  “I’ve been better, that’s for sure...she’s fine to stay if she doesn’t feel like getting up, swear she knows more about any of us than we know about ourselves.”  He winked over at his friend, who seemed to visibly relax at his joke. “Everything hurts, not gonna lie...shoulders are both on fire...left moreso than right…”

“I can give you some stronger meds for that-”

“No, I’d rather not be hazy…”

“Clay,” Lisa interrupted gently. “You’re home, you’re safe, and I’m not going anywhere until the boys are back at the very least.  Take the relief.”

Kelly looked between them.  “How about I give you just enough to take the edge off without affecting your alertness?  And when you’re comfortable and ready to sleep, we’ll up the dosage then.  Sound fair?”  Clay relented with a nod, and remained silent as the nurse took his vitals, removed the strap from his right wrist, and checked his stitches.  Once she was finished, the nurse glanced shyly at the SEAL.  “Numbers are heading in the right direction, Clay.  Maybe once you’re healed up we could grab a drink?”

A sad smile tugged at the man’s lips as images of another beautiful brunette, this one encouraging him to hold on during his darkest moments, crossed his mind.  “I appreciate that, Kelly...but I’m not in a good place for that right now.”  She nodded and excused herself.  

Lisa watched the blonde man rest his head back against the pillow with a tired sigh.  “Did you know that Stella tried to call you the day that you were taken?”  

He winced at the mention of her name, gentle though it’d been.  He was too tired to mask his surprise.  “N-no...we, uh...we split up right before shipping out.  She’d dodged my first couple of calls when we got to Mexico.”

“She must’ve called right after you left for the mission...was trying to make things right.  She’s been with Naima since the…” Davis cleared her throat, looked away for a moment before continuing.  “Since the video was released.”  Clay felt a twist in his chest at the thought of Stella seeing what he’d been through.  Lisa stood and approached the bed, settling her hand over Clay’s uninjured arm.  “I’ve kinda taken over keeping in touch with Stella instead of Naima having to be the go-between for the guys.  They are...less than thrilled with her over what happened before we left, but I can see things closer to her perspective.  I’ve been stuck miles away and unable to do a damn thing as you, Jason and Trent went down in a chopper.  I have a little bit of a clearer understanding of what it feels like to be on her side of things.”  Watching Clay’s conflicted reaction, Lisa squeezed his bicep and shrugged.  “Maybe I wouldn’t have been so quick to forgive her...lapse of judgment if she weren’t so consistent in checking in since the moment the team got you back.  She’s following your lead, though, Clay...if you don’t want to see her again, she’ll back off.”

The wounded SEAL stared up at Lisa for a long moment, processing everything she’d said; that Stella had wanted to fix things before he’d been taken hostage...and still wanted to be with him even after what he considered to be the worst scenario she could’ve endured as his girlfriend.  “I...I need to see her...talk to her before I make any decisions.”  Lisa grinned.  “But I need to talk to the others first.”

“What you need to do first is rest.  The team will probably be another couple of hours.  You’re still healing, Clay...I don’t know how much you remember, but we came really close to losing you.  It’s going to take time to bounce back from this, so don’t push it, do you understand me?”

The SEAL couldn’t help his smirk, even as he lost the fight to keep his eyes open. Damn, if this woman doesn’t have some magical powers that bend us to her will, he thought. “Aye aye, ma’am.”

The last thing he saw before falling asleep was the affectionate grin on her face as she settled back into the chair near the door.

“C’mon, Ken Doll, Davis already gave you up, open those pretty blues, you’ve had enough time to sleep.”  The gruff voice that dragged Clay back from his slumber was accompanied by light pats on the cheek, and the young SEAL flinched away with a grimace.

“Really, Sonny?” Trent growled.  As Clay opened his eyes, the medic was tugging Sonny away from the bed.  

“I didn’t touch any of the bruises, but you can’t tell me you aren’t itchin’ to see him awake and talkin’ just as much as I am.”  When Sonny caught Clay’s gaze, the Texan lit up.  “There he is! Welcome back to the world of the living, GQ!”

“You wanna take it down a notch, Son?” Clay mumbled, turning his eyes to the rest of his room.  The entirety of Bravo Team was scattered around him: Sonny and Trent standing at his right side, Brock and Cerberus next to Lisa by the door, Jason and Ray to his left.  

“Sorry the caveman can’t keep quiet to save his life,” Lisa offered with a regretful smile.  Clay grinned back with a wink.

“How are you feeling, Kid?” Jason asked, voice soft.  

“Like hell,” he answered.  “What’s the damage for going rogue?”

The Team Leader shrugged.  “Couple weeks restricted to base, which is fine because it’s about how long you’ll be stuck in here anyway.”  Jason watched his youngest team member quietly for a moment.  “Before you ask, cause I know you will, Charlie team is taking over the hunt for Doza.”

Clay nodded his gratitude, chose not to respond to the fact that he’d be confined to this room for two whole weeks.  “Thanks for coming after me.”

Brock snorted.  “Like not bringing you home was even an option.”

“The only reason the cake-eaters gave us any hell is because we didn’t wait for their green light, couldn’t be made to look like fools for not responding faster,” Ray added.

The injured SEAL fidgeted for a moment, wishing that he could move his left arm - or leg...that he could find some kind of comfortable position as he prepared for what he was sure would be an uncomfortable conversation. He settled for raising the head of his bed so that he could at least be sitting up. “Hey, guys...I’m going to ask Stella to come by...to talk.”  Sonny opened his mouth to retort, but Clay held up his good hand, limited thought the movement was by his IVs.  “I know that you guys aren’t happy with what happened...but this is between me and her.  I don’t know if I’m going to let her back in or not…” He took a breath, both for rest and to steel himself for whatever arguments they might give.  “But I am asking that you trust my judgment, whatever I decide.”

“She let you deploy fresh off a breakup, and look at what happened,” Sonny insisted, his hands grasping at the bedrail and tightening.  When Clay looked up at him, the Texan was staring at the floor.  When he spoke again, guilt softened his tone.  “You took a stupid risk…”

Clay wrapped his fingers around Sonny’s wrist and waited until the older man met his eyes to respond.  “I recognized a threat to my team and a chance to protect my brothers.  I was first in the door, I looked most like just another tourist...I knew things wouldn’t have gone well if they were able to grab anyone else.  Breakup or not, I would do the exact same thing in any circumstance.  Stella had nothing to do with it.”  He squeezed until Sonny nodded his understanding, and then Clay glanced around to make sure the others heard him as well.  “I would gladly lay down my life for you, and I know you would do the same.  What happened with Stella...she tried not to have the conversation before we left.  I was the one who wouldn’t let it go until she told me what was bothering her.  It was just as much her fault as it was mine…”

“We’ll follow your lead, Spense.  It’s not an easy life...we don’t always get it right the first time around.  If this didn’t scare her off...not really sure what would,” Jason assured.  The rest of the team nodded their agreement, albeit reluctantly on Sonny’s part.  “Just be sure she’s back for the right reasons.”

Davis stood with a genuine smile.  “I’ll give her a call.  Looks like it’s time for you boys to clear out.”  She hesitated for a moment.  “Brock, you grabbed Clay’s stuff when we left Mexico, right?  Can you bring his laptop in here, give him something to do while he waits for her to get here?”  Clay narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, before he remembered her comment about the call he’d missed before being taken.

Ten minutes later, Clay was alone in the hospital room, laptop resting across his knees as he pulled up the video message that he’d never gotten to see.  He watches as the face of the woman he loved changed from forced optimism to guilt, tears filling her eyes as she apologized for hurting him and asked for the chance to fix it.

“I was so stupid for waiting so long to call you after Naima talked some sense into me the day you guys deployed.”  The blonde SEAL looked up to see Stella leaning against the doorframe, eyes red and watery. She refused to look anywhere but his face. “I knew within a few hours what I was going to do...but I was too embarrassed.  Maybe if I’d called sooner, things would’ve been different…” A tear slid down her cheek, and Clay closed the laptop with his good hand.  

“Stella, what happened wasn’t because of us breaking up.  What happened was because I needed to protect my team...my brothers.  I would’ve done it no matter how things were with us.”  He hesitated, knowing that this would be the defining moment for them.  “That’s not something that will ever change, Stell.  It’s my job to protect them, and I will do that with my dying breath if I have to.”

Fresh tears dripped to the ground as she dropped her gaze to the floor.  “I...I know,” she murmured, voice surprisingly certain.  When she returned her eyes to his, determination shone through.  Hesitant steps brought her to his right side, and when he canted his head towards her, she sat gingerly on the bed near his hip.  Clay refused to break her stare, reading every shifting emotion as it crossed her face, and instinctively laced their fingers when her hand settled over his.  Stella sobbed, and the vice grip around his heart eased.  “I love you for your devotion to your brothers, Clay.  I would never want that to change...and I’m sorry that I ever made you feel otherwise.  Bravo is your family...they’re part of you.  I regret giving up even a second of time being with you out of the fear of what might happen...but it’s shown me that I need to make the most of what time we do have together...to be grateful for every moment we are given together, and support you through every step, good or bad.”

Clay smiled softly at her, squeezing her fingers.  “If we do this again...I have to warn you, the guys are going to be hard on you for a while, until they feel confident you’re here for good.”  Hope swelled in his chest at her responding look of tenderness and the warmth of her hand against his cheek.  

“I would expect nothing less from the men who watch your back in life and death situations, as well as every other facet of your life.  I am prepared to do whatever it takes to prove to them that I’m not going to let my fear drive me away from you ever again.”  She stared into his eyes for a long moment.  “Are you willing to give me a chance to make things right?”

In lieu of responding verbally, Clay eased his hand around her waist and tugged her close to press his lips against her.  Finally, he was home.  Finally, he was whole again.  This woman, who’d already proven time and again that she belonged in his world, had come back to him even after the next worst thing to him actually being killed in action...and he would make damn sure she wouldn’t run again.  If her response to his kiss was any indicator, that wouldn’t be an issue; the SEAL drew back with a low hiss when they got too caught up in the moment, and she bumped his injured arm.  

“Shit, sorry, I’m so sorry…” Her hands hovered over his shoulders, wanting to fix it but not knowing what was safe to touch.  Clay chuckled at her and kissed her again briefly, wanting to assure her that he was okay.  Stella sat back, now serious, eyes tracing every visible bruise and cut, the bandages and outline of his casted leg beneath his bedsheet.  “When that video came on…”  He cradled her face when her lower lip began to quiver, and she leaned into his touch.  “I was out at the bar, and it didn’t even connect at first that it could be you.  One of the others, maybe...but my mind didn’t even let me process the possibility that it would be you.  I’ve never been so scared...and then Naima called me, within minutes.  Even knowing we’d broken up, not knowing I’d changed my mind...she didn’t give me a choice, I wasn’t going to be alone while you were gone.  I don’t know how I would’ve handled everything without her and the other wives.”

Clay made a mental note to thank Naima for calling Stella out when she’d needed it, and being the support she needed and never would’ve felt comfortable asking for.  “Ray’s got himself a special lady, and I’m glad she was there when you needed her most.”  Idly twirling a strand of brunette hair around his finger, the blonde took in her beautiful face and once again remembered when it had come to him in his darkest moment.  “You know, while they had me...there was a point where I hallucinated that you were with me.”  She tensed under his touch but didn’t respond, so he continued.  “You encouraged me to hold on, reminded me that the guys wouldn’t give up.  It gave me strength, got me through til they showed up.”  The sudden tears streaming down her face startled Clay, and he narrowed his eyes.  “What?”

“I...I had a nightmare the second day after you were taken...that I was with you.  I could smell the blood…”

Sonny settled in close to Clay’s head, eyes never leaving the youngest member’s face as they jostled.  When the blonde man winced and gave a soft moan, Sonny reached out from his seat to squeeze Clay’s bicep.  “Almost home, brother...almost there.  Just hang tight a little bit longer, you hear me?”

Just as when they’d made it to the Mexican base, the medical team was seamless in rushing Clay off the plane and away from the rest of Bravo team.  Sonny lingered, staring at a small pool of blood that had gathered underneath the stretcher.  “He’s home...he’s in the best possible hands right now.”  The Texan finally looked over at Lisa, seeing his fear reflected back in her eyes despite the reassurance in her voice.

“But will it be enough?” The soft voice of Bravo Two drew Sonny’s attention, and he watched confusion and then firm resolution cross his features.  “Ray?”

The man in question held up a placating hand.  “I hear you, baby, but if Clay pulls through this, he’s going to have to decide for himself if he is ready to see her.  I’ll call you when we know anything more.”  Ray sighed.  “I’ll be damned if we give up on him, but Naima...it doesn’t look good.  He’s in a really bad way, and having to fly back home for the treatment he needs didn’t help.  We need to be with him...I’ll call soon.  I love you.”

Sonny raised a questioning brow at Ray once he hung up, and the three finally deplaned together, several yards behind the others.  “Wanna tell me what that was about?”

“Stella ended things with Clay right before we shipped out...which explains a hell of a lot about why he was so quiet.  But she’d apparently tried to call him to fix things the day that he was taken, but we were already out on recon.  Naima picked her up the day the video was released, has been with her ever since.”

Images flashed in his mind of Clay sending Sonny a half-hearted salute before shoving him back out of a building they’d just entered, a disconnected look in his eye as he made himself vulnerable to Doza’s men in order to protect the rest of the team.  Rage simmered in his chest.  “She sent him out-”

“I know, brother,” Ray assured, patting his shoulder. “But they’re both young, new at this...like I told Naima, it’ll be Clay’s decision whether to let her back in.”  He gestured towards the hospital.  “Let’s go wait with the others to hear what’s going to happen.  I wanna make sure Trent gets cleaned up as soon as he’s told to stand down.”  Sonny nodded, and Davis squeezed his arm affectionately to tug him along.  They were met by Jason, Blackburn, Brock, and Ellis in the waiting room, and could do nothing but settle in for what they knew would be a long wait.

“He’s home? He’s safe?” Stella questioned as soon as Naima hung up the phone.  The older woman tucked her cell into her purse and guided the blonde to a bench.  “W-what is it?”

“The team found him and brought him home, but he is seriously hurt.  They couldn’t treat him in Mexico, so they flew him back to the hospital here.  Ray couldn’t talk for long, so that’s all that I know.”

Stella sensed hesitation in Naima’s voice, watched her face closely, and felt fear tighten around her heart.  “C-can we go wait with the team?”

“No, I’m sorry, Stell...it’s got to be on his terms.  If his health is as precarious as it sounds, we can’t add on to his stress until we know he’s able to handle it.”  She reached out and took Stella’s hand, giving it a comforting and apologetic squeeze.  “The team isn’t handling this well either...I could hear it in Ray’s voice; I don’t know what happened to the men that took Clay, but no matter what they’re still going to be looking for someone to lash out at...I don’t want that to be you.”

Despite the gentle tone, and the knowledge that Naima wasn’t trying to make an accusation, the gravity of her words felt like a suckerpunch to the gut.  Bravo Team would lash out at her because they blame her, at least in part, for what happened to Clay.  It wasn’t as though she could argue...there had been enough self-loathing going on already, it only made sense that they’d come to the same conclusion if they knew what she’d done.  Tears filled her eyes as the full weight of countless emotions crashed over her: relief that Clay had been found and was so far still alive, fear that he still might not make it, guilt that this was at least partly her fault...worry that even if Clay allowed her back into his life, the rest of Bravo wouldn’t.  

Once she’d emptied the (meager) contents of her stomach and brushed her teeth, Stella glanced at her Fitbit to see that it was past 3am, and she knew here was no way she’d be getting back to sleep after that horror show of a nightmare.  Instead, she padded quietly into the living room, torn between relief and despair when she saw the light on and Naima nursing her son.  The older woman looked up at Stella’s approach.  The sad smile on her face let Stella know she’d heard her retching.

“Would you like something to settle your stomach?”  Stella shook her head silently as she curled up in the corner of the couch, holding herself protectively.  “I’m a bit surprised it took til the second night for you to have a nightmare.  Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?”

Grateful that Naima gave her time to collect her thoughts, didn’t comment on the seemingly unending silent tears, Stella knew that she needed to start leaning into the support of this woman and the other wives if she hoped to truly become part of the family.  “I, uh...I had a dream about...about C-Clay being held captive.”  She stared at the sleeves of her sweater, pulled over her fingers out of nerves.  “It just...it felt like it was real.  It felt like I was standing right in front of him, begging him to hold on til the guys found him.”  Stella’s breath hiccuped as she tried to keep herself calm.  The last thing she wanted was to upset the baby when Naima had been kind enough to take care of her the last two days since Clay had been taken.  “He was suffering so much, and there was nothing that I could do to make it any better.”  She looked up, desperate for comfort.  “How do you handle this?”

The Kurdish woman looked pained for a moment.  “This...being the fact that Clay has been taken hostage?”  She nuzzled her infant, tears filling her own eyes.  “This situation is rare, by the grace of God.  We haven’t dealt with this before now.  Injuries, separations, death...but never having one of the team become subject of a terrorist’s ransom message.  I don’t know how to handle this kind of uncertainty, but I know that the worst thing would be for you to be alone through this.”

“I don’t deserve to be helped like this…I sent him out there heartbroken…”

“Don’t go there, Stella,” Naima insisted firmly.  She gestured for the younger woman to wait, and disappeared to settle her son into his crib.  When she returned, she settled onto the couch alongside Stella.  “The men haven’t been allowed to contact us since the video...we don’t know what happened when he was taken.  You can’t take that responsibility on your shoulders.  Especially having decided to commit to this life...you have to accept that there will be risks, that sometimes we will get into arguments and they will leave on less than ideal terms...but they are the best for a reason.  They are trained for this under any circumstance.”  Her hand settled on Stella’s shoulder and squeezed comfortingly.  “You tried to reach him, tried to tell him.  And if I know our boys, which I do pretty damn well, you’ll get the chance to tell him soon enough.  In the meantime...if you need to cry, you let yourself cry.  If you need to get out of the house, let me know and I can either set up some time with the other wives, get a babysitter, or we can go out with the kids.  But don’t give up faith that Clay will come home.”  

Finally releasing the tenuous hold that she had on her emotions, Stella threw her arms around Naima’s neck and allowed herself to sob and accept the comfort offered by the older woman.

Bravo Team hadn’t been sure of what to expect when they finally breached the room where Doza’s men were holding Clay, and when Sonny laid eyes on the younger man, he had all the drive he needed to take out any hostile that came across his scope.  It didn’t take long for the team to wipe out everyone except for their injured teammate: hanging from the ceiling, shackled, covered in blood and bruises, head drooped against his chest.

Sonny rushed forward, heart in his throat until he tore off his glove with his teeth and felt a faint pulse under his fingers.  He took hold of the blonde’s dirty face, desperate for any sign of consciousness.  Fluttering eyelids gave the Texan hope.  “Hey, we’ve got you, brother, just hold on a little bit longer.”  He leaned back enough to take in the growing bloodstain on his shirt, looked up to meet Trent’s gaze.  Grim worry stared back, and the unspoken directive was clear.  “We’re gonna get you home...but we’ve gotta take you down first.  It’s going to hurt, brother, but we’re here, lean on us as much as you’ve gotta.”  

“So-Sonny…” Clay’s weak voice barely made it past his lips, but Sonny listened as if it were the only sound in the room.  “Please...don’t let Stella...blame herself.”  Was the kid delusional?  Why would Stella blame herself?

“We need to get him down, we can figure the rest out later,” Ray murmured.  “HAVOC this is Bravo Two.  Bravo Six has been located and hostiles eliminated.  I repeat, we have Bravo Six...but he’s in bad shape.  Have a medical team waiting at the helipad when we get back.”  Blackburn gave a concise response, but none of them paid him mind.  Ray and Jason situated themselves on either side of the wounded SEAL, Brock stepped up behind him with bolt cutters, and they all nodded.  Trent slid around Brock to support Clay from behind, but none of them were expecting the agonized cry and for him to drop like dead weight as soon as his feet were planted on the ground.

“Sonny, Brock get the litter ready,” Trent commanded.  As soon as it was laid out, he gestured for the team leaders to lay their youngest out on it, and began assessing Clay.  “He’s still alive, but we need to get him the hell out of here if we want him to stay that way.”  Bravo Four lifted the hem of Clay’s shirt, and hissed sympathetically.  “No wonder he’s leaking so bad...looks like they stuck him with a serrated blade.  This wound is a shredded mess.”  He applied a pressure bandage and grabbed Sonny’s hand to keep it in place as the medic moved down to his left leg.  “Broken. I need to brace it. He’s also got a dislocated shoulder, same side...dammit!”  He looked up to Jason.  “Hold him down while I fix the dislocation?”  Bravo One nodded solemnly, and Sonny found himself grateful that Clay was unconscious for all of this.  The crack made all of them wince, and Sonny held his breath when the kid twitched, head lolling to the side.  

“Stella…” he breathed before falling silent once more.  Ray glanced up at Trent as the medic made quick work of the temporary splint from his kit.

“Okay, let’s move, we need to get to exfil yesterday,” Jason instructed as soon as Trent moved back.  Sonny, Trent, Brock and Ray each took hold of the litter, and Bravo One provided cover until they made it to the waiting helicopter.  The four carrying Clay eased him into the chopper, and startled when the previously-unconscious man lashed out with his unbroken leg and what probably would have qualified as a war cry if he’d been any stronger.  “Easy!” Jason barked, jumping up into the Blackhawk behind Brock to press Clay’s shoulders down.  “Stand down, Spenser, you’re safe.”

Blue eyes stared up at the team leader, and Sonny found himself creeped out by the lack of recognition in his gaze...as though he were staring through Jason rather than at him.  “Just a grad student, man…”

Jason knelt forward and held Clay’s face in both of his hands, jostling him just enough for the younger man to finally blink up at him with clear - albeit agonized - eyes.  “Hey, kid, you with me?” A weak nod. “I know you’re hurting, brother, but we’ve got you.  Try to relax so Trent can get as much done as he can while we’re airborne.”  As soon as Clay stilled, the medic jumped up, followed by the rest of the team, and the pilot took off smoothly.  

Sonny watched Trent work, swapping out saturated bandages and quickly applying new ones and periodically checking vitals.  The increasingly grim look on the medic’s face left a hollow pit in the Texan’s stomach; the team had taken a hit when they’d lost Nate, but somehow this felt so much worse.  Clay, in spite of the butting heads at the beginning, had thoroughly ingrained himself as an invaluable member of the team.  He’d settled into his position as the ‘Rookie’, the ‘kid’...kid brother maybe, Sonny lamented to himself as his eyes shifted to the younger man’s face.  The blood and bruises did little to make him seem older, and the familiar protective rage started to rise up all over again.

“HAVOC this is Bravo One, we made it to exfil and are Oscar Mike.  Be ready, he’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Copy Bravo One, you guys just keep him breathing til you get here, docs’ll take care of the rest.”  The forced confidence in Blackburn’s voice made Sonny’s skin crawl, but he knew that nothing their Commander said would’ve been enough.  Nothing would be until they were able to stabilize Clay.  

The rest of the flight was silent, each of the team members either lost in their own thoughts or busy fighting to keep their brother alive.  The runners of the Blackhawk had barely touched down before they jumped out and cleared the way for the team of medics, ready and waiting as promised with a stretcher.  The Mexican team took over for them seamlessly, calling for Trent to follow to provide information.  The rest of Bravo lingered by the chopper, shock settling over them in the absence of active purpose.  A hand landed heavily on Sonny’s shoulder, and he turned to see Brock, pale and drawn, eyes still following the flurry of movement heading towards the medical wing’s doors.  

And yet, once the hood was removed and he was forced to his knees, he refused to give any sign of faltering. Even when they punched him multiple times and yanked his head back by his sweat-matted curls, Clay refused to cower or beg for help.  When the video first came to their attention, the Mexican Marine captain had translated for them, relating Doza’s demands for money, release of cartel leaders, and their immediate departure from the country.  Watching it again, seeing the abuse his brother was suffering for him, spiked Sonny’s rage once again, and he turned and punched the nearest wall.  Trent pulled his arm back before he could strike again, and restrained him against his own chest.

“Easy, brother, this isn’t going to help Clay.  We’ll get the chance to make these assholes pay for this, we’ll bring our boy home, but if you break your hand you’re not going to be able to do much good for him.  Hold off on letting out that anger til we’re face to face with Doza and his men.”  After a few steadying breaths, Sonny backed down and forced himself to sit down.  Brock squeezed his shoulder, and they all turned to the local force as the video ended.

“This is a building in the center of Doza’s territory.  It will be very difficult to get to your man without him being alerted to your presence, and then your man will be killed anyway.”

“That’s not gonna cut it,” Jason replied, anger simmering just under the surface.  “How do we get to this son of a bitch and get my man out?”

“He has eyes everywhere, Master Chief. I’m sorry, I do not believe that it will be possible.”

“The brass Stateside isn’t going to green-light the rescue if we don’t have some kind of plan, Captain. We don’t need much of a chance...we just need something.  Please,” Mandy implored as the men grew more agitated and restless.  She took a slow breath, knowing her next words would not go over well with them.  “He deserves for his brothers to bring him home, whether this is going to be a rescue or a recovery.”  At that, Davis ducked out of the command center.  No one could deny her statement, though...they’d all seen the blood on Clay’s face, the tension and awkwardness in his posture that only they would recognize as signs of agony.  If they didn’t get to him fast, Clay Spenser would not survive his captivity, no matter how stubborn he was mentally.

The young SEAL in question was dragged from unconsciousness by the persistent stabbing pain of his abused muscles being strained, chained overhead until his now-bare feet barely touched the ground.  They’d used him for a ransom video for the American government, which he knew would have the guys up in arms.  As he hung...wherever they were, Doza’s men shouted demands at him in Spanish; questions about Naval intelligence, border protection weaknesses...the ususal.  

“Please,” he whimpered, emphasising his pain and exaggerating his desperation.  “I don’t know what you’re saying...I don’t know what you want.  I...I’m just a tourist…”

One of the men was suddenly in his face, and reached around to grab his hair roughly when the blonde flinched away.  “You were awfully calm during our little message for just a tourist.”

“I-I couldn’t understand a word you were saying, and it hurt to even breathe, man...I didn’t want to make it worse! I’m sorry, I don’t know what you want from me...please just let me go!” Fresh pain erupted across his cheek as his captor punched him again, and it took everything in Clay not to bite out a sarcastic comment.

“I don’t believe you.  My friends here don’t believe you.”  The man stepped back and drew a long serrated-edged knife.  “If you don’t give us answers, you are going to die a very painful death.  Do you understand me?”

Clay summoned as much fear as he could, and tears burned his eyes.  Well shit, this is gonna hurt…“Please!  Please, no, I don’t know what I could possibly tell you!”

“You were with US military agents working with the Marinas.  Tell me where there are weaknesses at your borders!”

“I wasn’t, I swear! I’m just on vacation from grad school! Nonono please-” The blade didn’t hurt so much as it sank into his right flank just under his ribcage.  No...it was the catching of the serrated edge as it was drawn back out that had Clay crying out and ready to sink into oblivion again.  

“Oh no, my friend, you do not get to escape just yet.  Tell me where your team is and I will end your suffering quickly.”  Clay sobbed through the pain, grateful for his ‘innocence’ cover giving him the excuse not to play tough.  Hopefully my team is getting your sorry sonofabitch boss Doza and this isn’t for nothing…

Jason looked up when Blackburn slammed the phone down, anger and frustration evident on his face before the Lieutenant Commander dragged his hand over it.  “There is no way in hell they denied us going after Clay,” Hayes growled.  All eyes turned to the officer, who sighed heavily.  

“They are saying the usual...we do not negotiate with terrorists and our team is too close to get him out without letting things get personal.”

“Any team they send would make it personal,” Brock muttered, petting Cerberus to calm himself down.  “Friggin’ cake-eaters don’t understand the concept of brotherhood.”  He looked up around the room.  “So how are we going to do this?”  Sonny and Trent nodded, and Ray leaned against the desk with forced calm.

“Blackburn, if you need to leave for plausible deniability-”

“Like hell I’m going anywhere,” Eric snapped, crossing his arms over his chest. “By the time they would send another team down, if they even plan to, Spenser would probably be dead.  We are going after him now, and we will deal with repercussions later.  Captain.”  He turned, surprising his Mexican counterpart.  “What do we have?”

“You are going to disobey your superiors?” Garcia questioned.  

“As I said, there is not time to wait for a new team to arrive, and my men are considered the best for a reason.  We do not leave any teammate behind under any circumstance.” The Mexican Captain looked to each of the Americans for a long moment before nodding with a grim smile.

“You know the guys would never leave you behind.  They’ll come for you soon, baby...you’ve just got to hold on a little bit longer, okay?  Stay with me.  I’m right here.”  The comforting, familiar scent of Stella’s shampoo filled Clay’s nostrils, and he wanted nothing more than to nuzzle into her hand, warm and comforting on his cheek.  

The second he shifted his head, though, agony seized his entire body, and the young SEAL was jarred back to reality.  Stella...Stella wasn’t with him.  Thank God for that, Clay thought to himself.  Even though it hurt to remember that Stella had broken things off with him before they’d shipped out to Mexico, the thought of her being with him in this hell-hole made him nauseous.

Or maybe that was the hole in his gut, the probable concussion, the fact that his arms were screaming at him as his feet began to cramp trying to hold his weight on his toes.  He knew without a doubt that his brothers would come for him, but found himself beginning to doubt that they’d make it in time for a rescue.  The blood soaking his side was enough for him to worry about, and explained how lightheaded he was.  If he was hallucinating, though...must be closer to the end than I thought.  

“Oh, our blue-eyed friend is back in the world of the living!” Clay tried to lift his head, suddenly feeling like it weight two hundred pounds, and clenched his jaw to fight back the bile rising in his throat as the room spun.  “Well, mas o menos...hey! We’re not done with you yet, man! You can tell me all you want that you’re just a tourist, but I am calling bullshit, so wake your ass up!”

No matter how hard he tried to comply, Clay couldn’t gather the strength to move more than his eyes.  The cartel thug in front of him became increasingly annoyed and started ranting in Spanish, but the blonde’s mind was too sluggish to translate.  A sudden crack accompanied an explosion of agony in his left leg, which no longer bore his weight.  His already-strained shoulder gave out with the lurch of added weight, and Clay lost his battle against throwing up.  

Time stopped making sense after that.  Any moment of awareness was overshadowed with black dots dancing across his vision, and anything that they might’ve been saying to him was completely lost.  Every inch of his body was pain...his wrists, chafing from the shackles. His left shoulder, at least dislocated.  His face, beat to hell. His abdomen, still leaking.  His left leg, probably broken, right cramping from bearing his weight.  It was a miracle that he was still conscious, let alone breathing.  

The distorted sound of gunfire erupted around Clay, and lights flashed in his eyes.  Shouts were abruptly cut off, and Mexican Marina camo filled the room.  Sonny’s face filled his field of vision, and Clay was sure he’d started to hallucinate again.  “We’ve got you, brother...just hold on a little bit longer...gonna get you home...take you down first...gonna hurt…” His brother’s voice kept cutting in and out, probably along with Clay’s consciousness.  Did that mean they were really there?

Naima ran a hand over her face, watching the plane prepare for takeoff.  “I can’t sugarcoat how bad this is, Stella...sending him out with a destroyed sense of hope means he might function with less self-preservation and might end up taking more risks.”  The statement made Stella nauseous, and she couldn’t hold back a sob.  Naima settled a hand on her shoulder.  “I know that the guys have unbelievably dangerous jobs, but Stella, no one knows when their time will come.  Clay could come home and be killed by any number of things here at home...Alana’s death is proof enough that life is too short to waste what little time we have with the ones we love.  You say that you can’t bear the thought of life without him...but are you truly willing to choose life definitely spent without him because of the possibility of something happening to him?”  The older woman was silent for a moment, gaze steady and intense as she let her words sink in.  “You are strong, independent...I never expected that you would allow fear to stand in your way.  And I have to apologize; I feel like things may have been different if we’d been more accepting.”

Stella furrowed her brow in confusion.  “W-what?”

“Bravo Team is the best because of their bond.  When a new member is brought in, particularly a rookie from Green Team like Clay, it takes time for the family to fully accept them...until we know that they are not going anywhere.  Spouses are challenging all on our own...we are the ones that keep each other together while our men are gone.  We are the ones that coordinate babysitting, appointments, things like that when the husbands are gone...and whatever they need when they come home.  It was especially tough for you because of how fresh your relationship was with Clay.”  She paused, dropped her gaze to her hands with a wry smile that had fresh tears falling down Stella’s cheeks.  “Still...I can tell you that boy would marry you in a heartbeat if you let him.”

The younger woman gave a tearful laugh.  “Yeah...yeah he would.  After his first close call, when the floor caved in under his feet, he proposed to me in the hospital room.  He meant it...he was so sure...and that terrified me.  After Alana’s wake, I saw the look in his eyes, that he was getting in deeper, and felt like maybe it was okay with me.  I felt like I was able to fit into the family that day…”

“And then he almost died,” Naima murmured.  Stella nodded, covering her eyes with a shaking hand as the sobs threatened to take over again.  “I can’t make the decision for you, Stella, and I don’t begrudge you your fears about this life.  Just know that if you change your mind, if you decide to stay, I will make sure that we are more intentional to bring you into our family, to prove to you that you’re not alone in this.  Ever.  All you need to do is call me, okay? Take care, Stella.”

Just like that, Stella was left alone in Clay’s car again.  Sobs finally started to wrack her body, and she laid her forehead on the steering wheel as all of her emotions crashed over her.  

A week of wrestling over her choice and a failed call to Clay found Stella at the bar where she first met him, nostalgic and antsy to talk to him.  “Here, Stel, drink.”  Amelia pressed a shot glass into her hand, and Stella obeyed immediately, a smile tugging at her lips.  “No thinking about...anything other than alcohol tonight.  That was the deal, right?”

Finally looking up at her best friend, she nodded.  “Yes ma’am.”

“Oh, shit...Buck, turn that up will ya?” The holler from further down the bar startled both women, and Stella looked up to the television to see two large Hispanic men holding the arms of a hooded captive.  As soon as she registered what was playing she turned away, horrified by the fact that a POW hostage video was being broadcast for the world to see...and terrified that she might know the victim.  “Fuckin’ bastards,” the man growled.  Stella heard the Spanish coming from the speakers and numbly found herself imagining that it was just a random video and Clay was beside her, translating for her with that cocky grin that said yeah, I know you think it’s hot that I speak six languages, so of course I’m going to use that to my advantage whenever I can.

When that all-too-familiar voice joined the Spanish-speaking one, this time as a grunt of pain, Stella’s world threatened to come down around her.  Amelia gasped and grabbed her arm. “S-Stella…”

No.  Nope, nuh uh...that’s not Clay.  Despite her mind outright refusing to believe that it was true, it was in fact his piercing blue eyes staring defiantly at the camera, hair a mess from the hood they’d just dragged from his head and chest heaving as he steadied himself on his knees.  Blood caked the side of his face from an injury somewhere in his hairline. The scrolling subtitles might as well have been in Spanish too for all the sense they made to her...all Stella could see was Clay’s eyes, clear and proud despite the beating they’d clearly given him.  The first time they punched him on screen, hard across the jaw, tears blurred her vision.  Amelia grabbed her shoulders and turned her away from the screen.  Men all around the bar began muttering curses, many recognizing the SEAL as well.

“C’mon, let’s go outside, you can’t watch this,” Amelia murmured, her own voice thick with tears.  Stella shook her head, torn between feeling like running away would be abandoning him in what could be his last moments and not wanting his murder to be burned into her memory forever.

“I can’t...God, this can’t be happening…”  The alcohol and bar food turned in her stomach when he grunted again, and Stella ran for the bathroom, making it just in time before she was violently sick.  Amelia’s soothing voice drifted past the ringing in her ears, and suddenly she couldn’t catch her breath.  

“Come on, Stell...up, you need to get some fresh air to calm you down. Clay’s strong, he’s stubborn, no way is he going out like this.”  Her friend continued to ramble in her ear as she wiped her face with a wet paper towel and then they made a beeline for the door, avoiding listening to or looking at the screen.  The night air was crisp and helped ease the hyperventilating, but she leaned back against the brick wall for support nonetheless.  

Tinny music from her purse startled both girls, and Stella pulled out her cell phone.  Without hesitating she answered it, grief hitting her full-force.  “Naima…” The name came out as a sob, and Stella couldn’t bring herself to be embarrassed.

“Where are you? I’m coming to get you.  Trish is coming to get the kids and I’m not letting you be alone until we know he’s okay.  Is there anyone with you right now?”

Questions to answer were good...helped ground her...and ‘until we know he’s okay’ means he wasn’t killed...right? “I’m...I’m at the bar near base with my best friend.  God, Naima...I just tried to call him this afternoon, and he wasn’t available.  What if this is my fault? What if he doesn’t know…”

“Stella, you can’t focus on the what-if’s, do you hear me? This is on those assholes that took him...soon to be dead assholes if the rest of Bravo has anything to say about it.  I’m about fifteen minutes out, I’ll be there as soon as I can, just sit tight, okay? Don’t let them keep replaying that damned video...the news has it on loop. If Buck hasn’t already changed it, have your friend make them, okay?  You don’t need to keep watching Clay suffer and neither do they.  I’ll be there soon.”

Stella stared at the phone for a long moment, numb shock taking over until Amelia took it from slack fingers.  “Do you want to go back inside or wait out here? I’m going to go get our jackets and settle the tab.”

“I can’t go back in there,” she whimpered.  Amelia nodded and drew her in for a tight hug, starting fresh tears all over again.  When her friend pulled back, Stella eased herself to the ground with her back to the wall and waited for her to return.  While she was alone, flashes of her life with Clay played across her mind, and the roiling fear that she’d never get to fix things with him began to turn her stomach once more, until a hand settled onto her shoulder gently.

“I’m back.  Buck didn’t charge us anything, wanted me to tell you they’re all sorry that you had to see that...and that he’s still alive. They’re holding him for ransom.  The guys all seemed confident that his team would get him out of there.”  Amelia’s warmth settled down alongside her, shoulders pressing together.  “Talk to me, Stell, what can I do?”

The question forced a near-hysterical laugh from her chest.  “I can’t even begin to tell you...uh,” she sniffed, wiping tears from her cheeks.  “C-can you call Gordon in the morning and tell him I need some time?  I’ll talk to him when I can get my head around this just…”

“Done.  Naima’s picking you up, right?”

Stella gave a ghost of a smile.  “Yeah...she’s not going to let me out of her sight until Clay comes home, I’m sure.” The smile trembled; whether in a box or on a stretcher, she thought to herself.  In that moment, though, she knew.  Without a doubt, she knew that she couldn’t bear the thought of not knowing what was happening to him unless it showed up on television, couldn’t imagine not helping get him back on his feet if he did make it home...and if he did, couldn’t image not making the most of every single second she was given with him.  She looked up at Amelia and was grateful that her best friend understood that there was part of her life that was just different, and didn’t begrudge her for it.  Without any more words, she leaned her head on Amelia’s shoulder and waited.

The flight was relatively quiet as the team prepared themselves for the op: confirm intel that their latest target was where he said he was, capture (or kill) him, and get back out before morning call to prayer.  Before the chopper had even fully touched down Bravo was on the move, bleeding into the shadows without sound and making their way towards their target building.  

Cerberus and Brock took point, and the dog was practically vibrating with anticipation when they reached the doorway.  After receiving confirmation that IR showed one in the building and no other souls in the immediate vicinity, Clay prepped the door with breaching explosives.  A firm nod from Bravo One and the explosive was detonated.  Brock followed Cerberus in, Clay’s hand on his shoulder as they moved to clear the first room.  Vicious barking erupted from the canine, and Bravo Six caught glimpse of explosives strapped to a man hovering in the doorway.

“S Vest!” he shouted.  In the same movement, Clay jerked back on Brock’s arm and grabbed the handle of Cerb’s tactical vest to haul him backwards - into the arms of a startled Sonny, who stumbled under the dog’s weight and back out into the night.  That was the last thing Clay saw before the suicide vest was activated and the building started to come down around the two members of Bravo still inside; he was thrown onto his back, and the blinding pain from his head connecting with the ground sent Spenser into peaceful oblivion.

“Clay! Brock!”

“Bravo Five, Six do you copy?”

“Bravo One, what the hell just happened?”

Sonny stared in shock as the dust started to settle.  Cerberus wriggled free from his arms and darted towards the now-blocked doorway, whining and pawing at the debris separating him from his master.  No...no way in hell did this just happen.  

“Havoc, this is One...tango was wearing an S Vest.  Bravo Six saw it right before it went off, forced Three and Cerberus back out.  The entrance is now blocked by debris, no sign of movement from Five or Six.  Can you see them from IR?”

“Negative, Bravo One...I can’t see any movement.  Can you get in to them?”

When Brock came to, the first thing he registered was an obnoxious ringing in his ears...then came the stabbing pain in his left arm.  A quick glance revealed that said arm had been pinned to the ground by a slab of what was most likely the wall previously standing between him and their target.  Turning his head, Bravo Five found Six a few feet away, half-buried under debris from the roof and utterly unmoving.  “Six?  Bravo Six, can you hear me?  Clay!”  Nothing.  “C’mon, brother…”

He paused when the sound of voices crackled through Clay’s radio, the rest of their team calling for sitrep.  With his free hand Brock reached for his own radio, only to realize it had been caught under the wall and therefore destroyed.  He attempted to reach out at touch Clay, but came up inches short.  Growling in frustration, he dropped his head back to the ground, and turned his thoughts to his dog...and Sonny, who’d been just behind Clay when they breached.  

It didn’t take long for his worries to be assuaged.  “Brock, GQ, if you two don’t respond toot-sweet I will be digging in just to kick your asses myself,” Sonny growled over Clay’s radio.  “The dog is getting antsy and you know how he is when he doesn’t get his way.”  The SEAL wished that he could reach Clay...wished that he knew for sure that he was even alive, wished that he could see the extent of whatever injuries he’d sustained...wished that they’d done more recon before breaching.

Unlike Brock’s gradual return to consciousness, it hits Clay all at once, memories of the explosion included, and he comes to shouting for the other man.  His head swivels around, sending stabs of pain from his temple down his neck, and the desperate attempts to move are useless; only his left arm is free, a chunk of debris covering his other limbs and weighing down heavily on his chest.  “Brock?!” he called again, grunting in desperation.

“Right here, brother...I’m good.  My left arm is pinned and my radio’s trashed.  What’s going on with you?”

The blonde took a moment, now that he knew his brother was alive and - relatively - safe, to assess his own status.  Despite the weight bearing down on him, all ten fingers and toes responded to the command to move, and doing so caused no further pain to indicate broken bones.  Well that’s a miracle…“Won’t be moving anytime soon and not sure if my chestplate will keep bearing the weight of this slab forever, but for now I’m good.”

“Good...any chance you can let the rest of the team know we’re alive?” Brock’s relief was evident in his voice, and Clay smirked as he reached up with his free arm to key his radio.

“Bravo One, this is Bravo Six...Five and I are both pinned under debris but otherwise no serious injuries.  Are Three and Cerb okay?”

“Six, it is damn good to hear your voice, kid.  Three and the hair missile are fine, both whining about getting you guys outta there,” Jason joked.  Clay chuckled and shifted his hips, and abruptly the breath was forced from his lungs as the debris covering him moved with him. What had been manageable pressure became agonizingly constricting, and he was moderately confident something had cracked in his ribcage or sternum.  Panic threatened to overwhelm him as breathing became more and more difficult.

“Clay! Clay, I need you to listen to my voice, you’ve gotta be as still as possible so you don’t shift that slab any more, okay?  I know you can’t catch your breath right now, but if you don’t slow it down a little bit you’re going to pass out on me, okay? Focus on steady, shallow breaths.”  The soothing tenor of his brother’s voice brought Clay back down to the point that he was able to maintain those shallow breaths and the darkness at the corners of his vision dissipated.  “Good, that’s great brother.  Can you pass me the receiver of your radio and I’ll talk to Jason?”  Clay nodded and obeyed, fingers barely brushing as they managed to bridge the distance between them.  “Bravo One, this is Five.  We’re gonna need you to hurry...the debris is unstable and has already shifted on Bravo Six.  He’s okay for now, but I’m not sure that’ll be the case if things shift again.  I can’t do anything to help him.”

“Copy that Bravo Five.  We’re double-timing, just sit tight a little bit longer.  Alpha and support are almost here to help with the moving.”

“Yeah, we’ll just be hanging out when you get here,” Brock replied with a wry, tired smile.  He hooked the receiver onto his vest and returned his attention to Clay.  “How you holding up, Spense?”

“Just me...or is it...a bit stuffy in here?” the blonde quipped.  Truthfully the darkness was creeping back in, his chest felt like it was caving in, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep up sniper breathing.

“Shit...Clay, stay with me, brother. You’ve gotta stay awake.  Talk to me, tell me-” Clay jerked his head around when Brock’s voice cut off with a strangled groan and an audible ‘pop’.  Bravo Five’s head dropped back against the ground limply.

“Son of a…” Clay keyed the radio at his shoulder.  “Guys...I think Bravo Five...may have dislocated his shoulder.”  He dropped his own head back and winced when it sparked fireworks behind his eyes.  Another groan from beside him let him know that Brock had woken again, and he turned his head to catch the older man’s gaze.  “You good?”

“Hurts like a mother, but pretty sure it’s just dislocated.  Did I black out?”

“Just for a minute,” Clay breathed.  Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, light cut through the doorway, quickly shadowed by a thickly-bearded face.  “Bout...time, Bravo Three…”

“I know you’ve been anxiously awaiting the sight of my handsome face.  We’ll have you two out in a hot second now that help has arrived.”  Their teammate was true to his word, and within moments both men had been inspected by an anxious Cerberus as Alpha and Bravo teams filed in, careful not to jar the slabs of wall and ceiling prematurely.  Six men surrounded Clay and in unison hefted the debris from the younger SEAL.  Jason and Ray deftly slid him out to a clear spot, and the others moved on to let Brock free as well.  As soon as Brock was free, Trent inspected his shoulder.  Clay watched silently, struggling to steady his breathing.

“Dislocation looks to be right.  You ready?” With a short nod and a steadying breath, Brock braced himself against a still-stable wall. Cerberus whined and nudged his good hand, providing sufficient distraction for Trent to reset the dislocated joint.  

“Ooooh sonofabitch…”  Trent felt his arm gently, content when nothing moved that shouldn’t.  “I’m good, thanks brother...check on Clay.”  The medic nodded and turned to the blonde, concerned by the paleness of Clay’s lips and his rapid breaths.  “We’ve got you, Spense, easy breathing remember?” Clay turned his head to look at Brock as he dropped to his knees and reached out with his good hand.  The blond took it, grateful for the physical connection after the rollercoaster they’d been on since entering the building.

“I’m going to take off your vest, Clay, see if anything’s broken, okay?”  Clay nodded and Cerberus laid his head across his knees in an attempt to offer comfort, just as he’d done for Brock.  Removing the vest did little to ease the pressure, and still Clay struggled to draw a deep breath.  Trent tried to be gentle in his assessment, but Clay couldn’t hide the hisses and winces of pain.  “This isn’t going to be fun but it might help stimulate bloodflow again and make it a little easier on your chest when you’re breathing,” Trent warned.  Clay nodded again, and clenched his jaw when knuckles rubbed firmly up and down his sternum.  As uncomfortable as it was, Clay found that by the time he stopped, breathing was in fact easier.  “Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good...I’m gonna check your legs and the arm that was pinned just to make sure circulation is good everywhere else, and then we can get the hell outta here, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like it’s about friggin time,” Sonny chimed from above them as Trent ordered Cerberus back.  The medic made quick work of checking Clay over, and then nodded to Brock to help get the younger man on his feet.  The abrupt change in altitude made everything spin, and a hand on his chest had him looking up into the concerned eyes of his favorite Texan.  “You sure you’re good Goldilocks?”

“Copy Bravo Six, proceed with caution.”  

Clay turned to Sonny. “I’ll clear the courtyard, you take care of the spook.”  

“You got it GQ.” The older man hesitated just long enough for Clay to move across the study and take point, sharp blue gaze ensuring there was no unwanted movement.  “I don’t know what the hell made you think it was smart to leave the team sent to get your sorry ass out of here, but I will not hesitate to knock you out and throw you over my shoulder if you don’t get the hell away from that computer and back out to the rest of the team.”  The younger SEAL smirked, imagining Lewes cowering under Sonny’s imposing presence but resisting the urge to turn and look for himself.  That urge increased when he heard the scuffle behind him.  “Did you not hear me, spook? My team did not put themselves at risk to come get you just so that you could get shot because you decide you’re not ready to be un-kidnapped!”

“We need this information! Your buddy here is keeping watch, this intel is worth dying for or I wouldn’t be here in the first place!”

“Listen here, smart-ass, the longer you take, the longer we risk delaying exfil. If you get us left behind, you will end up dying for that damn intel anyway.  Is that what you want?”

Clay heard the agent scoff. “Your team wouldn’t leave you behind, and if you were going to leave me behind, you never would have come after me.  So-” A flash caught Spenser’s attention, and without hesitation he spun and threw himself at Sonny and Lewes, the three of them ending up sprawled on the ground as the glass behind them shattered.  

“Shit!” Sonny growled, wiggling himself out from between the two men and smoothly pulling Clay to his feet and towards the relative safety of the wall between windows.  “Good?” In lieu of a response, the young sniper drew his rifle again and laid down cover fire in the direction if their attack, ignoring the twinge of an ache in his side.  “Good enough.”  Sonny hauled Lewes to his feet, this time receiving no resistance as he shoved the man around the desk and out the door.  “Bravo One this is Bravo Three, we are on our way back to exfil site.”

“Double time, Bravo Three, exfil is one mike out, ISR has us clear for now.”

“Hear that Bravo Six? Let’s move.”  Clay took one final sweep of the courtyard beyond the now-decimated window before backing out of the study, instinctively transitioning to keeping watch over the hall as he and Sonny ushered Lewes back towards the rest of the team.  

By the time they made it back to their original exfil point, Ray was hovering at the door waiting for them, chopper rotors roaring in the distance.  He sent his brothers a smirk as they caught up, and pushed Lewes along as the man passed.  The three SEALs laughed when he stumbled without his own night vision gear, but a member of Bravo Support helped him to the chopper with his partner - the chopper the SEALs were not getting on.  

“Should’ve left his sorry ass behind...did he even get what he was looking for?” Ray asked as they jogged towards the Blackhawk.  Clay opened his mouth to speak, but a stab of pain caught his breath in his throat.

“I didn’t notice if he grabbed the damn drive, but he probably didn’t get everything at least,” Sonny answered.  The three moved to duck clear of the chopper blades...and Clay’s steps faltered.  It was only his 2IC’s quick reflexes that kept him from hitting the ground.  “Spense?”

“I...I’m good…”  Ray, skeptical and perceptive, nudged him to sit against the helo.  One glance at his gloved hand confirmed his sinking suspicion.  

“Then why the hell are you bleeding, Bravo Six? Trent!”

Sonny, who’d just swung himself up into the chopper, spun back around at Ray’s sharp words.  Clay glanced down to his own side, now throbbing after the pressure of his 2IC’s grip, and saw the dark stain growing on his camo blouse. “Well shit…”

“Clay, don’t fade out on me brother, we’ve gotta get you up into the chopper so Trent can take a look at you.  Look at me, Clay, come on…” Despite Ray’s insistent words, the younger man swayed against him with a distant look in his eyes.  “Sonny, help me get him up, he’s barely conscious.”

“What the hell happened?” Trent questioned sharply.  The medic appeared on the opposite side of Sonny and took Clay’s other shoulder so that the three of them could hoist him up.  Cerberus whined and Brock held the dog back to give them room.  Jason watched from the back of the helo, only diverting his attention to the pilot long enough to let him know to leave. Ray glanced to Sonny for an answer.

“The only thing it could’ve been was a sniper across the way while asshat was trying to copy files...Clay tackled us both, but he must’ve been hit in the process.  Kid got up and returned fire immediately...I had no idea...”

“I don’t think Clay had any idea...when I pointed out the blood, he was genuinely surprised. How he took a sniper round and didn't know it is beyond me...must’ve been the adrenaline or something,” Ray offered.  Trent handed him a flashlight, which he took and held in place without question.  The sight that awaited them left Sonny cursing, Ray giving a low whistle, and Jason counting himself lucky that the agents were on the other chopper and not somewhere that a member of his team could reach - and get himself kicked off of said team.  The bloody hole left behind by the bullet just below the line of Clay’s body armor had all of them furious.

The flight back to base was tense, with their youngest teammate drifting in and out of awareness.  Sonny’s leg bounced anxiously and Trent maintained pressure on Clay’s injury, checking his pulse from time to time.  Cerberus settled against Clay’s side opposite the team’s medic.  As soon as they touched down, the team exploded into movement.  

“Doc’s ready and waiting for him, what’s his status?” Blackburn questioned as the team of medics eased Clay out of Trent’s arms and onto a stretcher.  Bravo Four leapt out and followed them to provide as much information as possible.  Sonny, Ray, Brock and Jason climbed out of the Blackhawk more slowly, watching Spenser disappear into the medical building.  Sonny took a steadying breath.  It took everything in him not to punch the side of the chopper; the last thing he needed was to get on the pilot’s shit list for damaging their primary transportation. The remaining team members started to follow as the Texan’s mind replayed the incident in the Syrian study.

“What was that all about? Something happen?” Lewes questioned as he jogged to catch up. A haze of red settled over Sonny’s vision at the man’s voice, and it was all too easy for him to shake off the hands of his brothers.  Finally his fingers found a way to release the rage and fear of losing Clay, and before the CIA agent could blink he’d been slammed back against the wall of the medical building.

“Sonny!” Jason’s sharp command did nothing to cut through the fury.  Lewes’ hands scrabbled for some kind of grip on Sonny’s and he gasped for breath. “Quinn…”

“Did ‘something happen’?! Yes, you son of a bitch, my brother was shot because a pathetic excuse for a human decided it was more important to go back for information than get the hell out of Dodge.”  He slammed Lewes back against the wall again after shaking off Ray’s grasp.  “If you’d just come along quietly like a good little boy, my buddy as you called him wouldn’t have had to chase your sorry ass into an exposed room that we shouldn’t have been in to begin with, and wouldn’t have been taken a bullet while protecting you.”

Two pairs of hands finally dragged him off of the agent.  “This isn’t helping Clay, brother...this asshole isn’t worth it.  Come on, we want to be there when he wakes up,” Ray murmured in his ear, the calm tone doing more to break through Sonny’s rage than his Master Chief’s command in that moment.  Or, perhaps, it was the reminder that they had somewhere better to be.

“Lewes, you’d best stay the hell away from the infirmary...and I can promise you that if my brother doesn’t pull through this, I will find you and put you in the ground myself.”  The terror in the agent’s eyes was the last thing the SEAL saw before turning and allowing Ray and Brock to lead him to the waiting room.  The 2IC pushed him down into a chair and immediately began pacing.  

“You need to take a breath, man...I know you’re upset about what happened to Clay.  We all are.  But you can’t threaten to kill a CIA agent and not expect repercussions,” Ray insisted.  Sonny surged back to his feet.  Bravo Two turned to meet his fury without flinching, and that was enough to douse some of his flame.  “I know, brother...I know.  I want to ring that asshole’s neck too, but that won’t do any good for Clay.  What will be good for him is to have us there with him when he gets patched up and cleared.”

Sonny nodded, the fight seeping from him and leaving the Texan shaky.  With a heavy sigh Quinn dropped back into his seat and dropped his head into his hands.  Ray squeezed his shoulder, and Jason settled into the seat beside him.  “I should’ve picked up that something was wrong with the kid…” Should’ve seen the blood, should’ve felt the change in Spenser when he pulled the kid to his feet...something.  

“Don’t start that shit, Sonny.  Ray said that Spense didn’t even seem to realize it himself...how the hell would you have known?” Trent questioned, stepping into the waiting room.  The rest of the team stood at his entrance, hoping for news.  “He’s not conscious yet, but Clay’s going to be fine.  Bullet was a through-and-through and didn’t hit anything vital, so they just needed to clean out the wound and patch him up before starting a transfusion.  He should be coming around soon and Doc gave us the all-clear to wait with him.”  That was all they needed to hear to start moving.

Clay returned to awareness slowly, mind shifting to high alert until he was able to recognize the calm voices of his team.  The sterile smell bombarding his nose let him know that he was in the infirmary, and the ache in his abdomen brought back memories of realizing that he’d been shot once he and Sonny made it to the chopper...and then nothing.

“If I’m dead, this must be Hell...can’t believe I’m stuck with your ugly mugs forever,” he muttered, finally blinking through the bright lights.  Jason was lounging in a chair at the foot of his bed, Trent and Brock leaned against the wall near the door, and Ray and Sonny sat on either side of Clay.

“You could only hope to be so lucky to be stuck with these ‘ugly mugs’ for eternity,” Trent retorted with a relieved smile.  “You remember what happened?” Clay nodded.  “Good.  The shot was relatively clean, so you’ll be back on your feet in a few days, maybe a week.  Back on duty probably a few weeks.”

“Why the hell didn’t you say anything, Spenser?” Sonny cut in, voice low and hollow.  Clay’s eyes snapped to the Texan, surprised by the depth of emotion clear in the question.  “You should’ve told me that you were hit.”

“Sonny, man...I didn’t even realize it until I saw the blood on Ray’s glove.”

“Bullshit.”

“Sonny,” Jason warned, eyes lingering on Clay’s surprised face.  The kid didn’t recognize the drive behind the older man’s fierce response.  His silent command to the rest of the team was immediately obeyed, and they filed out to give Sonny and Clay space to talk.  The youngest Bravo member watched them go, confused and a little concerned.  

Once the others were gone, Sonny leaned forward in his seat and tented his fingers.  “How the hell am I supposed to watch your back if I don’t know when something’s wrong?”

“Well technically I was the one watching your back-”

“So not the time, Clay,” Sonny growled.  Clay raised a brow.  Finally, he got it...that his partner had been worried about him, felt guilty for letting him down.

Jay Halstead was no stranger to fighting for his life, nor for the lives of those closest to him.  Whether his best friend in the hell of war, or his partner on the streets of Chicago, it was always much easier for him to put himself between danger and another person than it was to let someone else do the same for him.

Which was why he was fighting so hard against the hands pressing him firmly against the cold concrete beneath him.  If Upton’s hands were busy applying pressure to his arm, she had no way of watching her own six, and the former Ranger’s protective instincts were screaming at him to do something about it as bullets ricocheted around them.

“So help me, if you don’t stop fighting, I will knock you out.  We’re covered, damnit, the rest of the team is handling Miles and his crew,” Hailey growled.  Jay felt his body relax marginally, and a grin tugged weakly at the corners of his mouth.  Damn if she couldn’t read him like a book.

David Miles.  On Intelligence’s radar for the murder of two business partners, the man had proved difficult to track down at first.  He kept tight security, and was near impossible to track as he’d been growing a human trafficking ring.  After learning about the homicides – apparently the above-board business partners did not react well to stumbling across his extracurricular activities – it had been a lucky break when Jay and Hailey happened to be questioning a person of interest at the same time that Miles showed up to collect the week’s deposit.

Jay wasted no time in chasing after their suspect, knowing that Hailey would call it in and be right behind him.  Miles made it into an alley before the detective caught up, easily knocking the gun out of his hand.  What Halstead didn’t expect, though, was for Miles to be skilled at hand-to-hand.  They grappled for a moment before Jay managed to land a solid punch to the man’s jaw, and Miles stumbled back two steps.  Even as Jay was surging forward to maintain his upper hand, he noticed Miles reach into his pocket.  The flash of light against a switchblade registered too late for Jay to do anything more than throw his weight to the side, which resulted in the blade embedding in his left shoulder rather than his chest.  Miles used Jay’s beat of shock and the momentum of his attack to slam the detective back against the wall, which jarred the blade.  Jay was relatively confident a bone had been nicked with the fresh shot of agony that it brought on, and he couldn’t help a strangled yelp.

“Back the hell up or I will drop you, Miles!”

Breath hissed through Jay’s clenched teeth when the knife was yanked free and the detective was dragged away from the wall.  He found himself face to face with his partner, eyes alight with righteous fury as they flickered down to the blood-coated switchblade now pressed against the vulnerable flesh of his throat.  “You people don’t know when to leave well enough alone, do you?”

“Says the guy who got sloppy with his sex trafficking and got caught by both of his business partners.  Put the knife down and I’ll think about letting you keep breathing.” Blood began to drip from the tips of his fingers, and the alley around them began to grow a bit fuzzy at the edges.

“How about you put the gun down and I’ll call off my guys?”  Gunfire at the entrance of the alley had both Hailey and Jay flinching, the latter regretting it when the blade bit into his skin.  Miles used the distraction as an opportunity to shove his hostage towards the blond detective.  Jay struggled to reach out for his partner, who barely turned back in time to catch him, and the pair stumbled to their knees.

Hailey caught sight of the blood on his neck and cursed.  Jay tried to brush her hands away and gestured after their perp. “It’s superficial, go get him.”

“Ruzek and Atwater will meet him on the other side. Your neck might be superficial, but the blood leaking from that hole in your shoulder is not so much.  Lay back,” she ordered, shrugging out of her jacket and pressing it against his shoulder.  Jay groaned, and her face seemed to soften.  With her free hand his partner pulled out her phone and connected to dispatch, calling for an ambulance.

“You’re beautiful when you’re protective, you know that?”

“Tell me that when your words aren’t slurring from blood loss and exhaustion and maybe I won’t be tempted to dig my thumb a little too deep into this lovely stab wound of yours,” Upton growled in response.  Jay finally allowed himself to smile.  Hailey cursed under her breath, willing the rest of the team to get the situation under control so that they could get an ambo in for her quickly-paling partner.  “Hey, Halstead, eyes open.  No sleeping on the job, it sounds like the fight is finally dying down and I heard the sirens come in a minute ago, so Gabby and Sylvie will be here any minute.”

Jay blinked sluggishly up at her, pain momentarily subdued beneath unabashed affection.  “I’m not going anywhere, don’t worry, Hails…thank you for always having my back.”

“Shut up,” she muttered, fighting a blush.  “It’s my job to watch your back, as damn near impossible as you make it most days.  With a sigh, Hailey allowed herself to be vulnerable.  “Still…”

“You enjoy watching my back, I know,” Jay teased.  Upton rolled her eyes, and lightly flicked his ear.  “Ow, hey, wounded partner here.  Injuring me further is decidedly not watching my back!”

“Oh, poor baby, you want me to kiss it, make it better?” The second the words were out of her mouth, Hailey wished she could take them back, if only because the rescue squad chose that moment to reach them, and she couldn’t speak to the shocked and hopeful look in her partner’s eyes.  “Hey guys, he was stabbed in the left shoulder and, as you can see, is bleeding pretty good.  He’s also giving me plenty of sass, so I’m sure he’ll be fine once you stitch him up.”

“Thanks, Detective.  Your Sergeant said to have you stay behind to help wrap up the scene,” Gabby explained before turning her attention to Jay.  “Here’s hoping that shoulder is as resilient as you are, Jay…you ready to move?”  Hailey sent him a questioning look, and he smirked at her tiredly.

“I’ll explain when you come pick me up later.  Better get going, you know how Voight feels about slacking off on the job.”  Gabby glanced between the two with a raised brow, but Hailey only flipped Jay the bird with a wry grin.

“Take care of this idiot, call me if you need to get rid of him before I get there?” Both paramedics nodded.  “Thanks.”

“So what was the whole shoulder thing about?”

Jay looked up from where April was taping the bandage in place over his wound, also covering the scarred remnant of his bullet hole in the process.  Hailey was standing in the doorway of his little room, arms crossed over her chest and a feigned look of nonchalance on her face.  He glanced at the nurse, who handed him a sling with an expectant look and a wink before slipping out of the room and tugging the curtain closed behind her.  Hailey kept her eyes trained on the fabric for a long moment, and for a moment Jay worried that he’d misread their interaction before being separated.

It wasn’t until she turned back to face him, eyes more open and expressive than he could ever remember seeing them.  Words escaped him for a moment.  “Back when I worked in Gangs, I was undercover on a job that involved Molly’s.  It was when they first opened, were having a hard time getting on their feet…the guy I was trying to take down went after Gabby.  I had what I needed, once I went after his lackey the asshole shot me in the shoulder.”  He smiled at the memory.  “It’s actually what got me into Intelligence.”

“Really?” Hailey asked, stepping further into the room.  “How did that work?”

“Well, Antonio being Gabby’s brother and all, he of course showed up to the scene ready to end someone, and was immensely grateful to yours truly for keeping his baby sister safe.”  His partner shook her head with a soft chuckle and sat down beside him, brushing against his right shoulder. “He pointed out that I’d get my pick of detail from there for taking a bullet, I told him I wanted in on his unit, and he pulled strings with Voight.”

“So, detective…will you live?”

“It’s going to take a little longer to heal than I am entirely content with – he nicked my clavicle – but I should be back for desk duty in a week, active a couple weeks after that.”

“I could use the break from worrying about you for five minutes.”  Hailey watched him silently for a moment, and the haunted look in her eyes spurred him to reach out for her hand.  “You scared the hell out of me today, Jay.”

“I know, I’m sorry…” Jay’s eyes lingered on her face as their conversation in the alley came back to him. He blamed the pain meds for the sudden boldness in his next words. “But I am glad to know I’ve got a partner who’ll offer to kiss it and make it all better…”