Thank you for clicking on my story! 3
I absolutely adore SEAL team and especially my (grown) baby, I also love to see him hurt so here's some whump.
Also, I don't hate Stella, I don't particularly like her but she's not terrible, I just needed a bad guy haha.
"You coming, kid?" Sonny throws over his shoulder as they head off the plane, backpacks slung onto their backs and a few more bruises than before. Clay leans into Trent as he's helped up from where he's seated, his leg is bruised and sore after a large rock fell right on top of hit and his head a bit foggy from when the grenade went off and he went flying. "If I recall correctly, Trent said no alcohol," he mumbles tiredly and Trent shoots him an approving grin, "right you are, don't go encouraging delinquent behavior now, Sonny."
Sonny rolls his eyes and adjusts the cap on his head, "last time I checked, bars have water too," just then Lisa walks past him and nudges him in the ribs to which he lets out a grunt," last time you drank water was when I force fed you it after three days in the desert, I swear," shooting a smile at the men around them she says, "I'm positive he's 70% vodka," Ray snorts loudly.
"Nah, I'm good, man, I'm just gonna head home," Clay answers as he, together with Trent, limps off the plane with struggle. Jason, who's been staying quiet for the most part, frowns and goes to open his mouth, "I know, boss," Clay interrupts before Jason even gets a word out and ignores the glare he's met with. "Stella will be home with me so I won't be alone," he adds and by the look sour look on Jason's face, Stella's presence does very little to quench his worries regarding his youngest team member.
"You can't drive," Jason adds as if that's gonna stop Clay from trying to get home to Stella, but of course Clay doesn't take the not-so-subtle hint to come with them and tells him, "I'll call a cab," Jason frowns, "Stella's not coming to pick you up?" with a shake of his head Clay answers, "nah, she doesn't know we're back, I said we'd be another couple of days, figured I'd surprise her," this doesn't sit well with anyone on the team, especially not Jason, and he makes sure Clay knows that with the worried glare he sends him.
"I'll be fine, like I said, I'll call a cab," Ray pats Jason on the back and says with a lighthearted grin, "you can't win this one brother."
"Well then, shoot a text when you're done celebrating with Stella, let us know you're good, but no pictures!" Sonny rumbles and Clay scrunches his face up as Ray pretends to gag, "yeah, no pictures buddy, we don't wanna see that," Clay groans and covers his face with the hand that isn't holding onto Trent. "Shut up," he mumbles, trying to ignore the way his cheeks flame. "Cerb is on my side, right buddy?" Cerberus barks loudly and Brock, without missing a beat translates, "he said no."
"I hate you all," Cay mumbles bitterly to which everyone just chuckles as they move across the landing strip towards their parked cars and family. Maggie waves to Brock but it's Cerberus that notices first and begins to pull on the leech, "alright, alright, off you go," Brock mutters as he releases Cerberus who sprints ahead and practically jumps into Maggie's arms.
"I'll see you in a bit, boys," Brock calls as he jogs off to where Maggie and Cerberus are having their little reunion and Jason nods his way, "everyone good with dropping their things off at home and heading out after?" Sonny knocks him on the shoulder and tips his Texas cap, "I'll be good as soon as I get some beer in me, good beer," he says pointing at Clay who only rolls his eyes, "none of that microbrew stuff."
"Yeah, I got it, brother, it's not like you haven't told me a million times before."
"And yet you don't listen," Trent snickers and Clay shoves him away just as they reach their cars, Trent lets go of him when Clay pushes him away and frowns in confusion but Clay only nods towards Katie, "go," with a smile of assurance from Clay Trent basically bounces away towards Katie and engulfs her in a hug.
He limps over to a bench and sits down heavily, pulling out his phone he goes to dial for a cab, Sonny rolls past him on his motorcycle and mock-salutes him on the way in a typical Sonny fashion, but Clay only nods back, too tired to even lift his arm. All he wants to do is go home, cuddle with Stella and maybe drink some tea to fall asleep faster, not that he thinks he'll need it.
The others soon start to pull out of the parking lot, honking as they pass him, and eventually Clay's left alone in the parking lot, bag still on his back and a foot brace constantly reminding him of the pain he's in. They gave him some painkillers on the plane but it's all starting to disappear now, and the only advice Trent gave him was to stay off his feet, take some painkillers, "whatever the recommended amount is, double it" and try to sleep it off.
And that's exactly what he plans to do, he could probably sleep for a week if he wanted to.
Fifteen minutes pass and finally the cab rolls into the parking lot, heaving a sigh of relief Clay gets himself back on his feet and limps over to the car, "hey man," he greets the driver who silently nods and pops the trunk open for him. He throws his bag in before closing it and practically throws himself into the car. Thankfully the driver is the quiet type and lets Clay rest for the entirety of the ride, the radio playing some country channel on low volume, barely enough for Clay to hear what song it is. It takes about half an hour for them to reach his place and when they do Clay is almost passed out in the backseat.
"Thanks," he mumbles as he with struggle digs into his back pocket and pulls out some cash, not even bothering to count how much he's giving before he hands it over. Maybe he tipped $20 but he can live with that, it's not like he has anything else to spend it on anyways, alcohol's out of the question.
As soon as his bag is out and the trunk is closed the driver drives away and Clay begins to head into the apartment complex. His head is pounding from his concussion and his leg is killing him, a bed has never seemed so inviting as it does now. He opens the front door and steps inside, when he doesn't see Stella on the living room floor grading papers like usual nor in the kitchen following along some complicated healthy recipe she saw on youtube he smiles wistfully, imagining her taking a nap in their bedroom. He dumps his bag on the floor and limps over to the bedroom door, hoping he doesn't wake her when he opens it.
Stella's awake. Oh boy is she awake, and she's not alone. The professor, Gordon, the very same professor that Clay had been worried about, the very same that Davis had told him not to worry about, is in his bed, kissing his girlfriend and god knows what else under those sheets.
"Oh my god," Stella lets out as she sees Clay in the doorway simply staring at the pair, "oh my god, Clay," that gets the attention of the other man in the room who stops attacking Stella's neck to look up at the man who, despite his injuries, stands tall like he's ready to pounce any second.
"Really?" is all Clay manages to utter, not knowing how he should react. The last thing he'd been expecting was for Stella to cheat on him, he thought they'd been doing well despite the small mishaps and quarrels they'd been having, figured that was just part of the rocky patch they were going through but that everything would be alright after a while. He thought his deployment would do them some good, give them time apart to do some thinking on their own, turns out Stella's been doing more than just thinking.
"C-Clay, you're b-back," Stella mumbles while pulling the sheet tight to her body to hide from him, from her own boyfriend. Clay flips the switch, temporarily blinding the underdressed couple with the bright lights, and leans against the wall. "I'm back," he replies bluntly, staring right into Stella's guilty eyes.
"How about you let us get dressed and we can talk about this in the living room like adults?" Clay almost punches him right then and there, how dare he request anything out of Clay when he's the one fucking his girlfriend in a stranger's bed?
"Let you? You want me to allow you some time to get dressed? Then what? We're gonna walk out into my living room, sit on my couch, and talk about you fucking my girlfriend, is that what's gonna happen?" Stella places a hand on Gordon's shoulder when he moves to get up and silently shakes her head.
"Yeah you should listen to her, you stand up I'll knock you down before you even realize it," Clay threatens, not caring a single bit about the fact that he probably shouldn't do that as a serviceman. But right now he's not a sailor, he's not a SEAL on a mission, he's a single man on a mission to completely obliterate another with his fists.
"You're gonna knock me down on that leg? With that head wound?" he points to Clay's head where the stitched gash along his forehead is, "good luck with that," Stella tightens her grip on Gordon as a warning when she sees Clay's posture change.
"You don't think I can take you? I've taken down terrorists with a bullet in me, you bet your ass I can take you with a twisted ankle and a scratch," Gordon, without a thought stands up stark naked and lunches for Clay who simply sidesteps and lets the man fall right into the wall, hitting it face first and falling to the floor.
"Clay, stop!" Stella shouts and Clay turns to glare at her, "I didn't even do anything! he fell. Why are you so concerned for him but you can't even look at me?" this time his voice trembles, unlike his previously steady and stoic tone. "Please, just stop," Stella pleads and Clay feels his heart throb in pain, not because of her pleading tone and the tears glistening in her eyes, but because she's hurting him. She's defending the man on the floor clutching his nose, a result of his own stupidity, without even giving him a once over, he just got back from a war zone and the first thing he's met with is betrayal.
Gordon stumbles onto his feet again and hurries over to Stella, his bloody nose dripping as he goes. "How could you do this?" Clay asks, hurt filling his voice as the woman he loves comforts another man, "how could you betray me like this?" his voice gains volume as he sees the first tear spill over Stella's cheek, why is she crying? I'm the one who should be crying.
"I'm s-sorry, I didn't mean to h-hurt you," Clay scoffs and rolls his eyes, the itching feeling to comfort her is overcome by the anger he feels at her actions, "I didn't think y-you'd be home so s-soon," that leaves Clay gaping completely speechless.
"So you were gonna pretend nothing happened when I got back? You were gonna pretend you never cheated? Is that what you're saying?" his head hurts from shouting but he can't control his voice, he's far too angry for that. "She was gonna break up with you," Gordon lets out and Clay lets out a mocking laugh, "but you had to fuck him before you could do that? Just to make sure?" Stella lets out a sob and wipes furiously at her cheeks. "You couldn't just break up with me before I left like a grown woman? You had to go and fuck someone else while waiting for me to get home from a warzone just so you break up with me, fuck you."
"C-Clay, stop," Stella begs, tears flowing freely now and her privacy forgotten as she lets the sheet fall, "why? Am I hurting your feelings? Good!"
"I should call the cops on you for this," Gordon gestures to his nose and spits blood on the floor, "have you arrested for assault."
"You're gonna call the cops on me in my own house? What are you gonna say? 'I ran at him to hit him and when he stepped to the side I slammed into the wall like an idiot'?" Gordon tightens his fists in anger but Clay's not done, "how about I have you arrested? I never gave you permission to enter my apartment and if I remember correctly, Stella doesn't live here," he ignores the hurt look that crosses her face and continues.
"You wanna explain to the cops how you're in the apartment of a Navy SEAL that hasn't invited you? And on top of that, damaged my property by slamming your ugly face into the wall?"
"That's enough!" Stella shouts and Clay actually pauses to take a good look at her, her face is red and swollen, her cheeks wet with tears and her eyes bloodshot, Clay almost pities her, almost. But the sweat along her hairline and the nakedness of her breasts is enough for him to harden his glare, "I want you out of my house by morning, get your stuff out of here, anything you don't bring I'm throwing away, I never want to see you again."
Stella sobs and leaps out of the bed to run towards him, "Clay, don't do this," she tries to hug him but he won't let her, can't even bear to look at her anymore. There are bruises on her neck and on the inside of her thighs that he knows he didn't put there and the vision makes him feel sick.
"Don't touch me," he warns as she tries to get closer to him again but she doesn't listen, "please, just-" he pushes her away, not hard enough to make her fall, he doesn't actually want to hurt her, he just wants her gone.
"I said, don't fucking touch me!" he backs away, slams the bedroom door behind himself and throws his phone against the wall in front of him, shattering it on impact but in that moment he couldn't care less about it. "Fuck," he quietly swears and puts his hands on the back of his neck, "fuck," he repeats as he limps away from the bedroom he doesn't think he'll ever be able to sleep in again. "Fuck!" he finally screams and wipes everything off the dinner table, plates and glasses and silverware crash to the ground. He kicks a chair and immediately regrets it as pain moves up his entire leg, he lets out a yelp and groans in pain.
He kicks with his other leg but finds that it doesn't fly as far as he wants it to so he picks it up instead and throws it, much more effective. He doesn't even know why he's destroying his apartment anymore, he's angry but not that angry, he's sad, he realizes, really fucking sad.
Sad because he thought things were fine, thought it would all work out, thought he'd marry her, maybe even have kids one day, and now that's all gone. And he's not doing any better than his old man, he wanted to show off so badly, wanted to make him see that Clay could make it work like he hadn't, but maybe failure runs in his blood.
He drops the chair he's holding and heaves a whole body sigh, his head hurts worse than it did before and his leg aches from all the activity on it, he vaguely notices the blood on his hand but doesn't think much of it, it doesn't even hurt. Taking a look around himself he realizes that the entire place is trashed, broken glass everywhere and furniture lying around unrecognizable. "I have to get out of here," he mumbles to himself, suddenly feeling like the roof is caving in on him and the walls getting closer, he feels like he's suffocating. The smell of Stella is everywhere, her stuff lying about, her jacket hangs on the door, her shoes are neatly placed on the side, her schoolwork is on the coffee table and her cup of tea cold and forgotten with a lipstick mark on it.
Running out the door and out of the building he doesn't think about the strain he's putting on his leg even for a second, nor the pounding headache that won't go away. He stands out there in the cool night air on the sidewalk, watching the cars on the road pass. His car is parked in the driveway but he doesn't have his keys, left them on the coffee table inside, and his phone is trashed beyond repair so he can't call a cab nor anyone else, he doesn't have his wallet so he can't check into a motel for the night. He doesn't have anything. Only a stupid foot brace and a broken heart.
He rubs his hands over his face and sighs heavily, he has a couple of choices, either he can start walking to Jason's house or he can sleep on the sidewalk, or...step out into traffic and hope a car hits him so he gets to stay at the hospital for the night. He's reasonable enough to know that the last option is a last resort and he's at least going to attempt to get to Jason's house first, he's not a Navy SEAL for nothing, he's used to walking miles upon miles, granted not with a foot brace on, but he's determined.
It's not far to Jason's house but it takes him an embarrassingly long time to get there, he fell over twice after tripping on something with his foot brace and took a wrong turn once because he felt dizzy. He must have looked like a drunken mess but he couldn't care less, looking pristine is the least of his worries.
He rings the doorbell and awaits the scolding he's sure he's gonna get, but it's one he'll gladly take as long as it means he gets to stay the night or at least gets a ride home to someone who'll let him stay, maybe Brock, he misses Cerberus already. But it's not Jason that opens the door, it's Emma.
"Clay?" she asks, letting her eyes sweep over him, analyzing the state of her dad's friend, "hey...Emma," Clay wasn't expecting this and has no response, he hadn't even come up with something to say to Jason let alone his daughter.
"Is your dad home?" Emma frowns in confusion and shakes his head, "no, he said he was going out to drink... with the boys," she raises a brow at the word 'boys' as if to say aren't you one of them? And Clay wants to slap himself for being so stupid. How could he forget?
"Oh shit, right, I-I'm sorry," he drags a hand through his hair and curses silently, this only causes Emma's frown to deepen, she can't recall ever seeing one of her dad's friends this rattled, especially not at their doorstep asking for her dad like a kid.
"Is everything alright?" she hesitates in asking but figures the worst thing that can happen is that he doesn't answer, "uh, yeah, everything's fine I-I just can't stay at my apartment cause Stella's there so I thought I could…" he trails off when he realizes he's about to start rambling and that he probably shouldn't divulge this sort of information to his boss's daughter, that's probably not appropriate. She's not a child but she's Jason's child and that's enough to shut him up.
"Did you call any of the other guys?" he rubs his neck sheepishly and tells her, "I don't have my phone."
It's quiet for a second as Emma studies him, she sees the foot brace and the jack on his forehead, stitched up but still definitely hurting him, she sees the bleeding hand and the trail of blood dripping from his elbow, but the worst part she sees, his eyes, his expression. He looks lost despite being at an all too familiar door and Emma feels that she can't possibly let him leave in this condition, especially when she realizes that his car isn't anywhere to be seen, nor a cab of any kind.
"Why don't you come inside? Mikey and I are watching a film and we have some leftovers in the fridge, I can heat it up for you," she prays he says yes and when she sees him nod his head she sighs and steps aside to let him in.
"Hey Mr. Spenser," Mikey shouts from the couch and Spenser feels himself begin to grin, "Mr? Since when do you respect me that much? It's just Clay, kid," Mikey grins back and pats the space on the couch right next to him, "we're watching Spiderman," he tells him and Clay sits down heavily with a thud, "my favorite," he says and fist bumps Mikey. He feels himself instantly begin to calm as the movie on the TV plays on, but his sadness lingers. Mikey takes notice of the blood on Clay's hand and his eyes widen before turning to meet his sister's who only shakes her head and puts a finger up to her mouth, Mikey nods discreetly and turns his head back to the movie, he knows Clay is hurt, but the man's not saying anything, and from experience with his own dad he knows it's probably best if he doesn't either.
While Clay and Mikey watch the movie Emma slips into the kitchen with her phone to make a call.
"Hey sweetie, how's everything going? Have you eaten?" Jason answers his phone in a good mood, phone in one hand and a beer in the other, he's surrounded by all the guys plus Davis and Mandy, "uh, yeah, everything's fine," Emma answers and Jason immediately sits up a bit straighter in his chair placing his beer down on the table. Ray takes notice of his change in demeanor and shushes Sonny who's rambling on about god knows what.
"What's wrong? Something's up," he hears Emma sigh on the other side but she doesn't seem to be in any sort of distress or hurry which calms Jason just the tiniest bit. "Um, nothing's wrong, exactly, but...Clay just came over," Jason frowns and pulls the phone away from his ear to tell the others with an incredulous look 'Clay's at my house'.
"...Okay...did he say why?"
"He said he can't stay at his apartment cause Stella's there, I don't know what that's about but his car isn't here and he doesn't have his phone, he walked here, dad," with a flick of his hand he sets the table into motion, beers disappear and clothes fly on as the table immediately seems to sober up. "What's he doing now?"
"Watching Spiderman with Mikey on the couch, looks like he's about to fall asleep any second, his hand is bleeding and he looks kinda...dirty, I think he fell on his way over," Jason's eyes search for Trent and when they meet he asks, "how bad's the bleeding?" to the untrained eye Trent looks unfazed but to the men and women around him his worry is on full display.
"I couldn't really tell but it looked like a cut in his palm," Emma's worried voice sound from the other end of the line and Jason's jaw tightens, out of all the nights they could have gone out it had to be the one where Clay needs them, "okay, sweetie, listen to me, we're gonna be there as soon as possible, okay? you just hang in there and call me if anything happens, okay, I'm sorry about all of this," Emma sighs and shakes her head despite knowing there's no way for her dad to see her, "don't worry about it dad, I'm not mad about it, okay? I'm just worried, he looked completely destroyed when he got here."
Jason could never thank Alana enough for raising such a strong girl and he looks up to the sky for just a moment, "we'll be there soon, I love you," and once she replies he hangs up and turns to all the others.
"Who's good to drive?" Brock raises his hand, "I've barely touched my beer," Brock elaborates and with a nod of agreement from Davis, it's settled. "You coming?" Sonny asks the two women who look as worried as they feel, "no, you go. He needs his brothers right now," Davis tells him and with only a moment of hesitation Sonny nods and hurries after the other boys. They jump into Brock's car and speed away, desperate to get to their brother in need.
"What'd Emma say?" Ray asks just as they make their way out on the highway and Jason rubs a hand over his face anxiously, throwing an elbow up on the windowsill he leans against it and explains, "said he came knocking on the door, bleeding from his hand, no car, no phone, no cab in sight, asking if I was there cause he couldn't stay at his own apartment."
"Why the hell not?" Sonny immediately rumbles and Jason shrugs helplessly with a perplexed expression, "because Stella's there," is the answer he gives, because it's the only answer he has so far. "What's that supposed to mean?" Trent speaks up, but Jason, shaking his head, tells him, "your guess is as good as mine, brother."
They ride the rest of the ride in silence and in record time they arrive at the Hayes residence, Sonny's out the door before they've even made a full stop, "it's inhumane to force three big men to sit beside each other on those small seats," he mutters as he slams his car door shut, but that thought is quickly scrapped when he takes notice of the small droplets of blood on the porch, "yep, kid's definitely here, I'd recognize that sparkly fairy blood anywhere," when Trent shoots him a look he holds his hands up in defense and adds, "unfortunately."
Jason unlocks the door and as soon as it opens Emma hugs him tightly, "everything okay?" he asks hurriedly and she nods, "Mikey's upstairs and Clay's knocked out on the couch," Jason kisses her forehead and cups her cheek, "you did good, okay? We'll take it from here," she notices the other men behind them and waves slightly, "I'll be upstairs," Jason nods and watches her go before turning his eyes towards the couch where Clay's napping.
"Time for an intervention," Ray muses with a solemn look at towards the couch, they have no idea what transpired back at Clay's apartment or why he's here, but they know he's desperate and in need of comfort- and medical care- and they'll be there for him through it all.
Sonny's the first to reach him, sitting down on the couch right next to the sleeping men, mindful of his leg but other than that not caring very much for his comfort. The movement justles him but doesn't manage to wake him, which they figure is probably for the best, especially with his history of avoiding medical care and downplaying his pain, it gives them some time to actually asses his condition.
Trent takes his place beside the couch in front of Clay and removes his hand from where it's tucked in under Clay's other arm on his torso, his shirt follows with the movement because of the dried blood but with a bit of tugging it comes loose. The wound is fairly shallow and not deep enough to require stitches but what concerns Trent is the small glass pieces embedded in the wound and the rest of his palm. "You have any tweezers, Jace?" Trent asks and surprisingly he's got one in his hand within seconds, "that's a yes then," he mumbles to himself before going to work on Clay's hand, the light in the ceiling switches on but it's not enough to see every little piece so Ray grabs his phone and shines with the flashlight.
"Perfect, hold it there," Trent gets to work on his hand, picking out the small glass shards one by one and placing them in a plastic cup with Kung Fu Panda on it and a child's letters spelling out Mikey.
One particular shard embedded directly in the wound is what makes Clay wake up and he immediately tugs his hand away and grabs it with his other one, as if holding it will lessen the pain, "w-what the fuck," he mumbles, disoriented for a second and Trent hopes it's just his tiredness speaking and not his concussion. "Hey there, sleeping beauty," Sonny pats Clay's uninjured leg to attract his attention and Clay turns his eyes to meet his, "how was your nap?"
"Painfully interrupted," is the response they get, which would have been comforting if it wasn't for the slur in his voice and the lack of emotion. Clay's eyes move around, taking in his surroundings and the people around him and when his eyes land on Jason they immediately lower. "You know where you are?" Jason asks, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression tight, "yeah," Clay answers quietly, ashamed.
"And where's that?" Jason presses and Clay blinks slowly, his eyes stuck to a crease in his jeans, "your house," alright, at least he knows where he is, "alright, good," lifting his gaze to meet Jason's he studies the man in front of him, his leader, his boss, his brother, and his friend, studies him to see just how mad he is at him, but Jason's got his expression under control and in Clay's tired and concussed state he can't tell what the older man is feeling.
"I'm sorry," Jason raises a brow, not accepting nor denying his apology in fear of Clay trying to take the easy way out, apologize and then hope they'll forget all about it, which they absolutely won't, "for what?" lowering his gaze again Clay looks away and sighs deeply.
"Um," he swallows heavily, his voice stuffed like he's on the brink of crying, "for scaring your kids and...for invading your home, and uh...getting blood on your stuff," he stops there, not knowing what else to say, there's probably a million things he could and should be apologizing for right now but his mind isn't cooperating with him fully.
"You're always welcome here, kid, whether you need to talk, eat, shit, sleep, it doesn't matter, you're on my team and part of my responsibility, that doesn't disappear once we land back home. And don't worry about the kids, they're strong kids and they weren't scared, just worried about you, Mikey's tougher than he looks and Emma's tougher than me," that gets a chuckle out of Clay, a quiet one, but a chuckle nonetheless.
"Now the blood, however-" Jason begins but before he can continue Ray nudges him in the ribs to shut him up, "the blood is nothing, Naima knows the best dry cleaner in town and your couch will be as good as new again," patting Jason on the back jokingly some of the tension lets up and the air seems to flow a bit more lightly in that moment. But one question looms over them like a gray cloud, why was Stella the reason he couldn't stay at his apartment? Why did he want to escape her so desperately?
"Hey, kid, I gotta take a look at that hand again," Trent tells him and Clay reluctantly lets him, not wanting to argue with any of them on this, knows it'll only serve to make matters worse for him. When Trent begins to dig in his hand again he winces and Sonny doesn't hesitate in mocking him for it, "hey, pansycake, stay still and let the man work," Clay rolls his eyes and lets his head lull back, "your insults are getting worse, old man."
Sonny slaps his leg in mock offense but the groan Clay lets out isn't in good fun, Sonny accidentally hit his injured leg with his playful whack and it hurts worse than he thought it would, "shit, sorry kid, I didn't mean-"
"It's fine, don't worry about it," Clay assures tight-lipped, not hiding his pain as well as he wants and he curses himself silently for being so weak. Trent finishes digging around in his hand and starts to wrap his hand up with gauze magically produced from his pocket, once wrapped up the room falls quiet again and Clay avoids looking at any of them.
He knows what's coming yet hopes that if he avoids them long enough they'll give up- they won't. "So are we gonna talk about this or…?" to everyone's surprise, and major relief, it's Brock that breaks the ice and goes straight in for the kill. Instantly they take notice of the way Clay's entire demeanor loses any trace of happiness and calm, suddenly he turns pale and his eyes glaze over.
Oh oh. Something big happened, something real bad. "Kid?" Trent speaks carefully as if Clay's a wounded animal that he doesn't want to scare, and in a way he kind of is.
Clay drags his uninjured hand through his hair and leaves it there, resting in the tangles of his hair that has grown way too long to be acceptable by anyone's standards, he looks up at the ceiling right at the light above them with an unwavering gaze, he looks and looks but doesn't really see.
"You're only prolonging the inevitable," Ray tells him as if he doesn't know that already, "just tell us what happened, did you two fight?" Clay honestly wishes they did, because that would have been so much better than what actually happened, "I wish," he mumbles much to the confusion of his team.
"You wish?" Jason asks, confusion clear as day in his voice and Clay only nods, "yeah," he acknowledges, not wanting to elaborate as to why, he's probably gonna start crying if he does and the last thing he wants is to have to listen to Sonny berate and mock him.
"You're not giving us a lot to walk on here, kid," Clay lets his eyes land on Jason and without really meaning to lets out a soft sob, the hand from his hair travels down to his eyes to cover them as his chest shakes- the only indication of his sorrow. "You gotta tell us what happened, brother," Ray says worriedly with a hand stroking his bearded chin, a tell sign of his nervosity; never before have they seen Clay so distraught or vulnerable, not even when Brian or Adam died. The kid had been angry and in shock but he hadn't cried, at least not in front of them.
"It's so fucked up," Clay tells them, his voice muffled and shaky because of the lump in his throat, "I just wanted to s-sleep, but my bed was f-fucking occupied," he hisses angrily, a single tear trickling down his cheek which he quickly wipes away without a care for his injured hand. A wave of what the fuck is he on about passes through the room and the men exchange glances with each other, silently deciding what to do next.
"You didn't want to share a bed with Stella?" Ray says in disbelief, as a married man, sharing a bed with his wife is one of the wonders of the world, and by the way Clay talks about Stella he would assume the same goes for the younger man.
"You wouldn't shut up about it on the way home and now you're mad because she was taking a nap in your bed?" hearing Stella's name come out of Ray's mouth fills him with anger but the last drop comes when Sonny makes it sound like he got mad for nothing, she wasn't just taking a nap now, was she?
"Not when she's fucking s-sharing it with f-fucking Gordon!" he shouts way louder than he intended and it echoes in the living room as well as manages to break down the last of his barriers, he lets the tears fall only this time they're not so much out of sadness as they are anger.
"Found them fucking in the bedroom like it was their apartment, they were fucking in my bed!" sitting up in the couch he swings his legs off of it and sets them down on the floor, head in his hands and elbows on his thighs. The resounding silence that follows haunts him now that he realizes the movie is over, has been for a while now, and there's no sound to block out his thoughts.
The others don't know how to feel, shocked, betrayed, sad, disgusted, angry- that's a good place to start. "That fucking bitch," is what Sonny bellows angrily while throwing his cap on the floor, Ray rubs his hand over his face and Jason closes his eyes to try and calm himself, trying to keep his anger contained so he doesn't accidentally take it out on the kid, he's not angry at Clay, far from it, he's angry at the bitch that's rendered Clay into such a helpless and broken state.
"She cheated," Jason states despite knowing that she did, he doesn't need any more confirmation than what he's heard but Clay gives it to him anyways with a hoarse and miserable 'yeah'. Trent, angry and disappointed with Stella puts his feelings aside to focus on the more urgent things, such as how Clay injured his hand and ran to Jason's apartment. "Did you hit him?" he questions calmly, not an ounce of disappointment or judgment in his voice however that doesn't matter to Clay, he hears what he thinks they're thinking.
"No I didn't fucking hit him!" hissing angrily he lifts his head to meet Trent's eyes, there's a fire in his own-stark contrast from Trent's calm ones- and his face is red, from anger or from crying they can't quite tell. "He hit himself when he tumbled into my wall after trying to hit me!" he's defensive and ready to bolt if they choose not to believe him, they can all tell by the way he's barely seated anymore, his weight shifted from his heels to the tip of his toes.
"How'd you hurt your hand, then?" Clay blinks harshly and rubs his thumb against his bandaged palm, without a doubt hurting himself but not caring about it. "I-I don't know, I trashed the apartment, I guess, threw some things," he shrugs half-heartedly, body as tense as before but his expression softer and more resigned, "I just...lost control, I was so... angry," Trent places a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezes in silent support. Trashed apartment and broken glass? We can deal with that, Jason thinks, but there's just one thing he has to be sure about.
"But you didn't touch them in any way?" Jason asks, solely because he has to, an assault lawsuit could end Clay, especially because of his work and the fact that both Gordon and Stella are civilians, unarmed at that. He has to be sure.
With blazing eyes Clay lifts his gaze to meet Jason's, "no, I didn't do anything to them," he practically growls, before his voice turns softer and he mumbles bitterly, "doesn't mean I didn't want to, though."
"Fuck," as a new round of tears make their way down Clay's cheeks he hides his face in his hands again and curses, "I can't stop crying" it tugs at the heartstrings of the older men around the room to see Clay so distraught and all they want to do is help him but they don't know how, Clay surely won't want them to coddle him with hugs and kisses like a child, but being left alone is the last thing he needs.
"I'm gonna kill her," Ray whispers to Jason who only puts a hand on his shoulder without even looking at the man, he's well aware that Ray won't do anything to Stella but he's not so sure the man won't punch a hole in his wall and imagine her face, not wanting to have to fix his own house on top of Clay's apartment he holds him still with a tight grip.
"You're staying here," Jason states, his voice not leaving any room for arguing, not that anyone opposes his idea. "For how long?" Clay asks in a raspy voice, obviously well beyond exhausted and ready for bed, "as long as you want," Jason answers honestly.
"Either until your apartment is cleaned up and you want to move back or...until you find yourself a new place, if that's what you want," Clay, too tired to know what he wants to do at the moment, only nods and lifts his head from his hands, "I told her she had until tomorrow morning to get herself and her stuff out," he tells them and Sonny immediately punches his shoulder lightly and says, "you're too kind, wonder boy, I'd have kicked her to the curb right then and there."
Maybe I should have, Clay wonders to himself, but then again, what difference would it have made? He would most certainly still have trashed his place and then...well he definitely wouldn't have slept in his bedroom? He would probably still have turned up at Jason's place eventually but maybe in a cab instead, maybe then he wouldn't be so damn tired and bruised from falling over.
"I didn't know you'd be home so early", she was really gonna keep it from me. She was gonna pretend nothing happened and let me sleep in the same bed she fucked someone else in before breaking up with me. Clay has a hard time wrapping his head around that, the fact that she actually said that to his face and meant it. She had really planned to just pretend the relationship wasn't working out anymore and then leave him, does she have no shame?
Maybe I did myself a favor in keeping my arrival a secret, maybe it was for the best that I walked in on them, Clay thinks to himself, I don't think I would have believed it if someone told me Stella cheated, I would have called them a liar and left. Little did I know...
"What are you thinking?" Brock asks carefully, not liking the far-away look in Clay's eyes.
"Just...everything," is the only thing he can manage to answer, he's so drained of energy that he doesn't believe he'd be able to summarize his thoughts even if he tried to, "I just wanna sleep," he mumbles, his tongue tripping over itself as his exhaustion and pain wells over now that his adrenaline is going away.
"You do that, little brother, don't worry about a thing," Sonny tells him as if he's speaking to a child, "big old Sonny will take care of you," Clay chuckles dryly and cracks an eye open, when did I close them? "So you're finally admitting tha' you're getting ol'," any other day Sonny would have had some equally sassy remark to hit him right back with but today he lets it slide.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever," he pushes Clay down by his shoulder until he's lying down with his legs still hanging over the edge, "do we have to do everything for you, man?" Ray jokingly asks as he and Trent together move his legs up on the couch as well so that he's fully lying down, Brock throws a blanket over him as Sonny stands from the sofa to give Clay more room and Trent stands up from his position on the floor with a gentle pat to Clay's uninjured leg.
"Give us a shout if you need anything," Jason tells the man on the brink of sleep who only makes a sound of agreement that could just as well have been a groan unrelated to anything Jason said, "good enough," Ray mumbles and together they make their way into the kitchen.
"I don't think I've ever wanted to hit a woman as bad as I do know," Sonny growls as soon as they're in the kitchen and Brock counters with, "I don't think I've ever wanted to hit anyone as bad as I do now."
"I knew that woman was trouble after the whole Mexico thing, but I didn't think she'd stoop this low," with is head hung low Ray sits down in one of the bar stools and sighs heavily, "Davis told me Clay asked about the professor a while back," Sonny tells them with resignation.
"Said he was worried about him but didn't want to come off as 'overprotective' and 'controlling'" Sonny makes air quotes and rolls his eyes, "that backfired," he adds unnecessarily and Ray nudges him in the ribs.
Jason remembers, and will never forget, how they were all there for him when he lost Alana, and despite the situations being drastically different, they're very much alike in the sense that one of their brothers is in need of their help. Stella's not dead in the literal sense, but she's dead to them and they need to help Clay process that.
"We'll rotate tomorrow, I don't feel comfortable leaving him alone," Jason tells them and a sound of agreement echoes in the kitchen, "I don't think any of us do," Brock speaks from where's he's leaning against the fridge. Nodding Jason continues, "one will stay with him and the rest work on the apartment."
"Katie's off work tomorrow as well, I'm sure she wouldn't mind watching the kid for a while."
"Yeah, I could ask Maggie to drop Cerberus off before work too, get him something to cuddle," Ray snickers knowing that the kid won't be able to leave the couch once Cerberus is there. "Good," Jason says and crosses his arms over his chest.
"Just one more thing," Brock begins gently and all eyes turn to him, "what do we do if she's there," his voice takes an ugly turn but no one judges him for that, they all feel the same way about her, "if she's there…" Jason begins, not really sure what they're supposed to do, confront her? Ignore her? Yell at her?
"If she's there we tell her to leave and never come back, but if she doesn't agree..well," she shrugs helplessly and adds, "if she wants a fight we'll give her a fight," Ray nods approvingly, "amen to that, brother."
Sonny rubs his palms together and licks his lips, "oh I hope she wants a fight, cause I've got some issues I want to talk through with her," Trent rolls his eyes and shakes his head, "alright, bloody baron, calm down."
"Who?"
"Don't you read?"
"Reading's for pussies," Trent feels an oncoming headache and shakes his head again, "Clay likes to read," he tells Sonny, hoping that maybe the man will say I take it back but Sonny only grins devilishly and looks at Jason, "like I said, for pussies," and the last of the lingering tension breaks in the kitchen.
They've still got issues to deal with, one ruined apartment and one brother in need both mentally and physically, but those are problems for tomorrow and the days to come, tonight they'll relax, maybe crack a beer open and put on a movie, maybe draw a dick or two on Clay's face "stop it, Sonny" , and share stories from past missions, " did I tell you about that time Davis made kid flash blush redder than the communist flag?" - "why'd you describe the color red like that?"- "I don't know, I'm drunk, leave me alone".
Whatever happens tomorrow, they'll deal with it, whichever way they can.
Thanks for reading! :D
Please leave review so I know if you enjoyed it, I love to write for SEAL team and would love to write some more :)