Author's Note: Hey, all. Sorry I've been gone for so long. This last year was very . . . hard in a few ways. I recently experienced a very trying family tragedy, but I've been very blessed and am coping with it very well. I would share details, but I would never want a reader to walk into something they weren't expecting (especially if they came here to escape something else). You're all awesome, and you all deserve to have a happy, safe space to read. :)

Moving on to other things, I will say I was pretty upset when The Brave was canceled. Two of my favorite shows in the whole world were prematurely cut down! So sad. But I've got some fanfics cooking for this fandom. So if you're still around, I hope you enjoy 'em as they're posted. This particular fic will be a two-parter. Again, you're all great! :)

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It was eerily quiet. A clock ticked in the background, and the occasional hum of a running car passed by the house. But it wasn't enough to stave off the suffocating silence.

It was strange being home. Well, what was supposed to be his home.

The lonely quiet didn't exactly feel homey.

Adam was used to the roar of military vehicles day in and day out and the chatter of his teammates in the evenings.

The chatter of his family.

He didn't have any family here. The small house felt more like a hollow, lifeless shell. A place to endure instead of live. And the pressing silence coaxed the darker demons of his past and job out of the woodwork.

Adam had thought about calling Preach . . . or any of them really. He'd even considered inviting Patricia or Noah or even Hannah out to lunch. But they all had their lives, and he wasn't about to bother them just to satisfy his need for comfortable noise.

He rubbed at his eyes, wearily glancing at the clock. Every tick of the second hand echoed through the empty house, mocking him. Just two more months of this, then he'd be back home.

His phone sat on the empty kitchen table, dark and lifeless. He'd been trying to fill his time as best he could; he did some work on the little house, he cleared some stubborn shrubbery from the yard, and he bulked up his workout routine to add some time. But he couldn't fill all the empty minutes, and the evenings were often blank and lifeless.

For Adam, they were almost painful.

He took a deep breath, his eyes drifting to the window. It was late afternoon. The shadows were starting to get longer, the sunlight softening as time went on.

In Turkey, he was somebody. He was somebody to someone. Here, he was nothing, and his idle thoughts were quick to remind him.

Here, he was alone.

Anxious to chase away the cruel taunts of his mind, he got up from the table, wandering over to the kitchen. A small stack of dishes sat in the sink, waiting to be washed. Without anything else to do, Adam set to scrubbing the porcelain white.

Dishwashing turned to wiping down counters. And wiping down counters turned to nitpicky cleaning of all the cracks and crevices in the tiny kitchen. Forty-five minutes easily slipped by, filled by a desperate search for chores.

And then there was a knock at the door.

Adam paused, thinking he may have misheard. A handful of long seconds ticked by before being interrupted by impatient pounding at the door. Confused, he tossed his damp sponge into the sink and moved to answer it.

Unlocking the deadbolt, he hesitantly opened the door, only for it to be shoved open by none other than Jaz Kahn.

"Took you long enough," she teased, packs of beer in her hands. "We've been trying to call you for the last thirty minutes."

Preach followed behind her, grocery bags in his arms. He tossed Adam an apologetic smile before heading into the kitchen. A familiar bickering followed behind him as Amir and McG pushed their way through the door.

His team was here. He hadn't even asked and they were here.

McG stopped teasing Amir for a moment before turning to look at his team leader. "The director and her two favorite underlings are coming later. Said they'd be here in a couple hours."

Adam nodded, trying not to let his bewilderment show. Why were they here? Had he missed something?

He heard a whistle from the kitchen. "Wow, Top. You're kitchen is really clean," Jaz observed loudly. "Makes me feel bad about my kitchen."

Adam laughed warmly, burying his embarrassment. Probably shouldn't tell them he'd cleaned out of an all-consuming boredom and loneliness. Thinking about it kind of made him feel pathetic. He was a grown man, damn it. He should be able to easily endure a handful of months stateside.

He should be able to. But somehow, the empty shadows taunted him and the ringing silence gnawed at his thoughts.

They didn't need to know that.

McG wandered to the kitchen, already throwing a joke at Preach before he'd even made it into the room. Adam stayed behind, Amir beside him with a smile. The smaller man looked over, the soft upward curve of his lips melting into a frown.

"Still struggling with the change in time zone? You look kind of tired."

Adam spared him a glance before looking back toward the kitchen. "Yeah, I'm getting there. I'll get used to the time difference soon enough."

It was all a lie. Adam had no issue switching between time zones. He was pretty good at rearranging his sleep schedule as needed; it came in handy for most long ops.

But it unnerved him that Amir had noticed his weariness. He wasn't sleeping well, but not because of any time zone.

Amir softly clapped a hand on Adam's shoulder. "Well, let's get this party started." With a grin, he followed his teammates into the kitchen, Adam staying behind. The team leader was feeling a little taken off guard. He was still trying to tamp down his surprise at seeing them all here. He was fully prepared to spend the next couple months biding his time. Most would think of their overseas assignment as something that kept them away from their lives for lengthy periods of time.

But for Adam, his life was over there.

Again, he didn't have any family waiting for him on this side of the ocean, and he hadn't given himself the chance to develop any hobbies. His job was everything. His team was everything. Without either, he was without a purpose.

A hand on his shoulder startled him out of his thoughts. He locked eyes with Preach. The taller man smiled warmly. "Let's go fire up the grill. Take a break from all their bickering."

Adam hadn't even noticed the playful banter between the other three team members. Their voices carried loudly from the kitchen, spotted with even louder laughter. He smirked.

"We'll leave them to it," he chuckled, following Preach to the back door.

"How have you been, Top? Haven't seen or heard from you in a couple of weeks."

Adam was thrown by the statement, glancing up at his best friend. There was a look in Preach's eyes, as if he knew something. But it couldn't be. Adam had been so careful to keep his feelings to himself.

"I've been good. Just keeping busy." He nearly winced when he realized what he'd said. It sounded worse than he'd thought it would. Perhaps he should've said he'd been busy instead of keeping busy.

Preach simply nodded, prepping the grill.

Frantic, Adam hastily changed the subject. "How's the fam? Kids liking school?"

There was a small pause as Preach raised his eyebrows. "They're fine. Kids are starting to realize school's not all fun and games, so I can't say they're quite as thrilled with the whole idea as they used to be."

"Well, it was bound to happen," Adam laughed.

Preach eyed him carefully, taking in the darkness under Adam's eyes and that almost empty look in his gaze. He knew Adam struggled being stateside, but he'd always forgotten just how difficult it was for the team leader.

"You sure you're okay?" Preach asked, frowning a little.

"Yeah, fine. I'm fine." Adam smiled broadly, attempting to hide the tired lines of his face.

Preach turned away from the grill, really drinking in his friend. "The missus and I would love to have you over for dinner this week, if you're free. She's been dying to see you."

He didn't miss the almost imperceptible surprise that briefly passed over the team leader's face.

"Yeah, just tell me when and I'll be there," Adam replied amicably.

Something akin to worry bloomed in Preach's chest. "Top, tell me what's wrong."

"Nothing." The answer was too quick. Hasty, even.

Preach leveled a look at his commanding officer. His best friend. A man he had more respect for than almost anyone he'd ever known. "Adam, I've known you for a long time." Briefly, he wondered if Adam was simply bothered by the sudden interruption to his day, but it wasn't that. "You look like you haven't been sleeping, and Jaz was right; your kitchen is really clean. Too clean."

"Yeah, so I cleaned it. So what?"

"You don't think I know you clean as a distraction? And I noticed you've done some substantial yard work recently. Like I said, I've known you for a long time."

The smaller man looked a little uncomfortable, realizing that Preach was much more observant than he gave him credit for.

"What are you trying to distract yourself from?"

Preach's question weighed heavily in the air, pressing on Adam from all sides. But he wasn't going to give in. Preach didn't have to know. None of them had to know.

"Look, Top. I worry about you spending all your time here alone," the larger man sighed. "Our job isn't easy, and it leaves a mark. And when we're all together, it's easier to forget some of the things we've seen and done. But here, when we're apart, it's tough."

Adam didn't know why Preach was telling him all this. He understood it. Always had.

Preach continued.

"I've already gotten a call from Jaz in the middle of the night to make sure I was alive and well; Amir stopped by my house once just to make my family dinner out of the blue; and McG invited me out for drinks one evening just to chat. But I've heard nothing from you."

The fading, orange light of the day accentuated the shadows on Adam's face as he clenched his jaw. Of course Preach would notice.

Adam had received a few calls of his own. Team members just checking in, an easy disguise to cover their call for what it was: reassurance. And while he answered those calls without a second thought, placating their fears with casual small talk, he'd never considered making a call of his own. Instead, he painstakingly convinced himself that they were all fine. Sometimes, it took an hour or more. But he wouldn't bother them with it. He wouldn't.

"I . . ." he paused, looking down at his boots.

"Just talk to me, Adam. I mean, you're always a little distant when we're stateside. But this is different."

"I don't . . ." Adam stopped, rubbing at his eyes. "I don't want to bother anybody."

A breeze drifted by. Preach's heart sank.

"Top, you're not bothering anybody. We want to hear from you. Let us be there like you are for us." Preach's voice was soft. Low.

Adam shook his head. "No, you all have your lives."

"And you're part of them."

A heavy silence hung between them, their eyes meeting. Preach could see the unspoken pain and loneliness in Adam's eyes. Something he'd never thought he'd see. In Turkey, the team leader was always strong, brave, and put together. And when conflict arose, he was driven and focused.

And yet, looking at him now, he seemed so lost.

Preach let a breath billow from his lungs. Of course he seemed lost. "It's been a hard year, Top. For everyone. But as the team leader, it had to be especially hard on you. We lost a teammate. Jaz was taken. I was . . . in that coma for several weeks. There's no way all that hasn't affected you."

Blue eyes bore into his. Guilt, sorrow, anxiety. It all pooled in azure irises.

"You're my brother, Adam. I'm worried about you."

Adam's brow furrowed as he looked away. A dull pain throbbed in his chest, his emotions threatening to escape. And maybe it wouldn't be so bad if they did.

With a huff, he made his way to a scattering of chairs to drop into a seat. Preach followed him, slipping into a chair.

"I . . . I can't sleep," Adam muttered. "Everytime I close my eyes, I just . . . I see everything. How it could've turned out. Never getting Jaz back. Or getting her back and watching her fall apart. You never waking from a coma. Having to tell your wife and kids. Being blamed." He shook his head. "And I see the part of myself I never want to see."

Adam looked at Preach. "I killed a man, Preach. In cold blood."

"You had to."

"No. No, I didn't. But in that moment, I hated him so much. I hated him for everything he did. What he did to you. And I told myself that he was a threat that had to be eliminated. And maybe he was. But that wasn't why I did it."

For a minute, Preach didn't know what to say. Clouds drifted by. The everyday sounds of the neighborhood buzzed quietly in the background. As if the world didn't care about the weight on this man's shoulders.

"Top, you make a lot of sacrifices. I don't think even you realize how many."

Adam looked up at that.

"You do a lot of things to protect us. Like that time in China. And especially when it comes to things that can haunt a person for the rest of their lives." Preach stared at the ground, years of wisdom reflecting in his eyes. "You face a lot of demons so we don't have to. In a way . . . I think Hoffman was one of those demons. And you just acted naturally. To protect us from him. To protect Patricia."

"You don't have to justify it, Preach."

"Maybe I don't. But I know you, Top. And I know you don't deserve to feel like this. After everything you've been through bearing the weight of this team, you don't deserve this."

He caught Adam's gaze and held it. And he could almost hear Adam's response.

Maybe I do.

Hell, how could he feel like that? Why did he have to?