Title: What it Means to Have a Team
Summary: When injured on a mission, Amir learns what it means to have a team. Amir whump with a bit of team care.
Rating: PG-13. Not sure it's all that bad, rating-wise. For the most part, it's going to be no worse than the show itself.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of The Brave, including it's characters, actors, and stories. I am also not affiliated with any religion. Any statements made within this fanfic are nothing more than opinions, and how I imagine Amir might be feeling. Nothing should be taken as gospel.
Author's Notes: So I am TOTALLY in love with Amir. I first latched on to Dalton (and he is a VERY close second), but then Amir stole me away and i remain addicted. I've watched ep 7 It's All Personal at least 5 times so far. I love it. I can't get enough of it. As I am a whumper, I wanted more whump for Amir in it, and this fic is my way of making it happen.
2) Also, please bear in mind that I am not a medical professional in any way, shape, or form, so if the procedures aren't right, or if your mind screams, "That wouldn't happen that way!" while reading this, please refer to that statement and do your best to give a little latitude for the fact that this is, in fact, a work of fiction created by someone who doesn't have any medical training whatsoever.
3) I apologize if any of the characters are OOC. There were times when I felt like I really had their characters down and then there were times where I was pretty certain I didn't understand them at all, lol.
4) Some of the dialogue in this fic is from the show itself. I claim no credit for it whatsoever.
5) A big thank you to my beta, water4willows, without whom, this fic would not make as much sense. You are wonderful dear!
oOo
"You are the traitor," Omar announced with astonishment oozing from him.
There was that word again. Traitor. As though they were not the traitors here. Amir had five seconds for that thought to register and then his team acted. The instant the shots went off, Amir plunged the knife into Omar's abdomen. His aim was a little off as his own body was propelled slightly to the left, but even so, he hit his mark. Pain radiated from his left shoulder, but he ignored it in favor of holding Omar steady and then twisting the knife ever so slightly.
Omar involuntarily squeezed on Amir's wound as his body reacted to the pain it was experiencing. Biting back any sign that anything was wrong with him, Amir pushed Omar into the armchair behind him. "Yes, I am the traitor," he admitted, twisting the knife again just to make it hurt a little more. In a way it was almost symmetrical. Everything he had done while on this op had only served to turn a knife which had lain buried in his heart since the day his sister had been killed. Here was the man who was the cause for it, and now he had a chance to return the favor. He turned the knife again, making Omar ground out a cry of pain. "I have devoted my life to bringing down men like you, and I'm not gonna sleep until all of you are in the Hell you deserve."
He turned the knife one last time, once again making Omar cry out in pain before he released his tenuous hold on life. Amir stepped away, released the sheer hate that he had experienced in the same motion.
"Hey, it's okay," Jaz assured, stepping in between Amir and the now dead Omar to reach the very upset Mina. "It's okay, you're safe."
"Who are you?" Mina asked him in such a tone that said she wasn't sure he was any better than Omar. Maybe she had a point. Maybe she didn't. Right now, it didn't matter.
"Someone who cares," Amir answered, doing his best not to let her horror affect him. "Let's go."
Amir vaguely heard Jaz alert Top that they were coming out, but most of his attention was focused on not emotionally crashing right then and there. Amir was not the type of person who enjoyed causing pain. Doing what he did, he was perfectly aware that pain could not always be avoided, but if it was within his power to prevent it, he preferred to do so. With Omar, though, he had let his anger take hold of him as memories of his past, of his baby sister, rushed to the forefront of his mind.
"I got four Tangoes down," Jaz alerted their leader as she continued to escort Mina out of the house.
"Roger that. You're all clear," Top said, letting them know that it was safe to exit.
At the sight of Omar, dead in the chair, Amir felt rage build again. He rubbed his hands together, pressing hard as though to literally wash his hands of the man and the disgrace that he represented, then turned to leave. Pain pulsed in his shoulder, but he ignored it yet again. The mission was not done and until it was, there was little that could be done for the wound. Tucking his hand into his pocket to keep the arm still, Amir joined Jaz and Mina, soon overtaking them and putting himself in between them and whatever might possibly wait for them outside.
oOo
Adam waited in the car for the small group to exit the house and join him in the car. His blood pounded as adrenaline continued to course through his system. Patricia's announcement that Asim was on the move wasn't all that helpful since they still didn't know where he was going, but it did tell him that he and his team needed to be ready for when the kid landed.
Out of the dark, three shadows emerged. Hyper-alert as he was, Adam instantly tensed before realizing that it was Amir, Jaz, and Mina. Forcing himself to relax, Adam started the car. What little tension he had lost returned when he looked once more at the trio coming towards him. Something was off. Jaz and Mina led with Amir trailing just behind. Overall, this wasn't an anomaly since Jaz and Amir's first priority was getting Mina to safety. Adam studied the group for a moment while he tried to figure out what was setting him off. There. Amir's gait was off. It was only marginally so, but it was enough for Adam to notice it.
Amir was an interesting man. Just looking at him, you wouldn't think twice about him. He was fairly nondescript and, at first sight, inconsequential. Since it was his job to be both, that was perfectly fine with Adam. But then, if you studied him, really watched him, you would see the quiet power which lurked just beneath the surface. It had never become more apparent than during this mission. As though he had donned more than a suit for the cover, Amir's aura had gone from almost complacently boring to someone you sincerely did not want to piss off. It was still understated, in a way that Adam suspected only Amir could pull off, but it was there.
Whenever Amir walked, it was usually with arms swinging and in such a way that Adam could only describe as compact power. Amir was smaller than almost all of them, but he had strength, as Adam well knew. Tonight, only one arm was moving. His left hand was tucked into his pocket, giving him the air of nonchalance that Adam was almost 89% sure was fake.
The back door to the car opened before he could put more thought into the anomaly, and Jaz and Mina slid in. Knowing that it wouldn't do Mina any good to know that her brother was heading towards the spot where he would detonate, Adam kept the intel to himself and waited until Amir also slid into the car before he drove off.
They dropped Mina off at a safehouse of sorts. Adam and Amir stayed in the car while Jaz marched the woman in and alerted the authorities there of what had happened.
"You okay?" Adam asked once they were alone.
Amir looked over at him, no doubt trying to determine which thing his boss was referring to. They both knew what it meant for Amir to don this cover again. And though Adam didn't know precisely how much it had cost the newest member of his team, he could guess. But while he was concerned about that, that wasn't what he was talking about. Evidently Amir determined the same thing because he answered, "It's just a graze."
"You were shot?" Adam asked, surprised.
Jaz chose that moment to reenter the car, thus catching what Adam had just said. "Wait, you were shot?" she asked, looking between Amir and Adam. "When?"
"The boss squeezed off a round before you got to him," Amir answered in a tone that suggested things like this happened every day. To some degree he probably had a point, but still.
"Alright, well, Asim's on the move. Preach and McG are trailing him, so we have some time to patch you up before we have to follow."
"Do we know where he's going?" Jaz asked as she settled into the backseat. In the rearview, Adam saw her eyes flick from his to the direction of Amir and he briefly wondered if the insight she'd gained into their newest member had helped melt some of the ice she'd been throwing Amir's way.
"Not yet. Patricia and her team are still working on it. We need to go back to Omar's and search it, but we have time for a pit stop first."
Adam pulled off into an abandoned warehouse, figuring it as good a place as any to tend to Amir's wound. Thankfully, they all had field medic training so both he and Jaz were fully equipped to perform this little bit of first aid. If Amir's assessment was right, and something in the way he'd brushed it off made Adam think that it wasn't, they could easily patch him up and get back into the field in time to stop both attacks from happening.
"Top, I'm fine," Amir said as Adam parked.
"Be that as it may, I want to make sure before I send you back in," Adam answered. This wasn't something he was willing to argue about. Not only could it be bad for Amir to go back into the field if he was injured, it was also bad for the team as it could just as easily endanger them. "Now get outta the damn car and let me take a look at ya."
Amir didn't dally after that, but he did move slowly. As Adam guessed this was more due to pain than an unwillingness to acquiesce, he said nothing about it and got out of the car. Without a word, Amir began to strip, shrugging out of both of his coats with a grimace then unbuttoning his shirt just enough for Adam to reach the wound.
"That is more than a scratch," Jaz commented as she turned on the flashlight so Adam could see what he was doing.
"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Adam said dryly as he turned around and saw the bullet hole in Amir's shoulder. Located just inside the shoulder joint, Adam was relieved to see that it wasn't near Amir's heart. That being said, it also wasn't the type of thing that he would call 'a scratch'.
He moved swiftly and carefully as he checked for an exit point then began to apply bandages when he found one. Something told him that he'd have been hard pressed to keep Amir out of the field even if there hadn't been one, but it would have happened even if he'd had to have Mina sit on the man. Amir sat perfectly still while Adam worked, his face barely betraying anything though he must have been in pain.
Once finished, Adam sighed. "That's as good as it's gonna get for now." He watched as Amir carefully re-buttoned his shirt and then slide his coats back on. This time pain did show, but it was more in the gingerness of his movements than any expression on his face. His jaw was tight, as though he was biting back any sound, but that could just as easily have been anger. This mission had hit a nerve for Amir and it would continue to rub that nerve raw until it was finished. Adam briefly thought of instructing Amir to keep the arm as still as possible, but he shrugged it off. Chances were extremely good that Amir already knew that; there was no sense in telling him what he already knew.
They got back into the car, Adam watching Amir as doubt briefly flickered in his mind. But either Amir really wasn't feeling his injury or he was determined not to give Adam a reason to pull him, because he moved with as much fluidity as a man with a hole in his shoulder could move and his face remained impassive. So be it.
Adam pulled the car out of the warehouse, contacting Preach and McG once they were on the main road to find out where they were at. They had just pulled up outside of Omar's house so they could search it when they heard from the other members of their team. Knowing that nothing else was to be done about Amir, Adam pushed his concern and doubt aside. He'd have McG look at the guy when the mission was completed. For now, they had a bombing to stop.
oOo
As Amir made his way back to the car, Adam watched him closely. It wasn't until he saw the man sway ever so slightly that he remembered Amir grabbing hold of the second bomber and guiding him to the ground. Given Amir's injury, he probably shouldn't have done that, but hindsight and all. To be fair, at the time they had been worried about other things entirely. Now, however, Adam grew concerned again.
"McG," Adam said, getting the medic's attention. "When we get to Transport, I need you to take a look at Amir."
"What's wrong with him?" McG's voice was curious but clinical. They hadn't gotten around to mentioning Amir's wound to either McG or Preach, so the first was just as understandable as the latter.
"He was shot at Omar's," Adam filled in. He ignored the half-hearted glare that Amir was currently giving him. It could have been his imagination, but he thought that Amir looked paler than he had before. Theoretically blood loss could be having an effect, but Adam wasn't sure since it could just as easily have been a trick of the light mingling with Adam's concerns.
The silence he received in reply let him know that the medic wasn't happy with his decision. The fact that he wasn't going to say so out loud meant nothing since Adam knew that McG would just do so in person when they met up at Transport. It took a minute, but eventually, McG said, "Alright. I'll be waiting."
"Don't need to make it sound so ominous, McG," Amir dryly quipped as he got into the car.
"We'll see about that, Amir," McG answered with a hint of a smile in his voice.
Amir rolled his eyes ever so slightly, but stayed silent. In the backseat, Jaz had an amused smile plastered on her face. Clearly she was enjoying this. "Yeah, well. We're heading to Transport now. See you in ten," Adam said as he pulled into traffic.
"We'll be here," Preach offered then went silent.
Letting the conversation drop, Adam concentrated on driving through Parisian traffic. When all was said and done, it wasn't the worst he had driven through. It was actually fairly mild in comparison to a few other cities. Still, focusing on it helped him to let his mind wander. The silence in the car hinted that both Amir and Jaz were doing the same thing and so he let it remain and just drove.
They made it to Transport within the time given. Jaz jumped out almost right away, as eager as the rest of them to get home, no doubt. Amir was slower to get out, being careful to keep his left arm as still as possible as he did so. With a sigh, Adam followed, leaving the keys in the car for whomever was going to move it.
Adam did his best to keep an eye on his team as he confirmed their orders and flight plans. He briefed Patricia on what went down, as well as Amir's injury, then offered thanks to Noah and Hannah for their help before boarding the plane. The rest of the team was already there, with McG patiently waiting for Amir to finish getting his shirt off so he could examine the wound, and Preacher and Jaz sitting across from the pair simply watching them. As as soon as he was inside, the rear hatch closed and the preflight checks began.
They weren't long into the flight before Adam's eyes began to droop. It took even less time for them to close entirely. Trusting the pilots to get them where they needed to go, Adam allowed sleep to take him under.
oOo
"You know, you probably shouldn't have continued with the mission," McG reprimanded as he began to tape the first patch to the exit point of Amir's wound. With what he'd had available to him, Top had done a decent enough job. Now it was McG's turn.
"I'm fine," Amir answered, and for all the reaction he'd given, McG could have almost believed it.
"The hole in your shoulder says otherwise," he argued as he began to place the second patch to the entry point of the wound. He was curious as to why Amir kept insisting there was nothing wrong. It was possible, though improbable, that he simply wasn't feeling the injury yet. But some instinct told McG that it was something else entirely. What that was, he didn't know.
Not for the first time, McG wondered what Amir's backstory was. He trusted Top's judgment in bringing the Muslim into the team, but he was still curious. What had appealed to Top so much that he had brought in Amir to replace Elijah? Normally he would have just asked, but this time he suspected he would regret that approach in one way or another.
Amir shrugged, freezing when he used his left shoulder to do it. Ah, there was the pain. If the guy was feeling it, why wasn't he letting it show? Was he being guarded? It was possible that since he was new to the team, he was less willing to let weaknesses show in front of them. Given's Jaz's treatment of him, McG couldn't blame the guy. Which wasn't to say that he blamed her, either. The indifference coming from her simply wasn't conducive to making Amir feel he could trust them.
"Perhaps," Amir conceded. While he began to button his shirt back up, McG settled into the bench beside him. "But I wasn't going to sit this one out."
And there was the reason why Top had kept Amir in play. Not because they needed him, which they sort of did, but because it was unlikely that Top was going to be able to stop Amir from finishing the op. And when you have a split second or two to make decisions, it just wasn't worth trying to argue with someone like that; not when the chances of making the injury worse were minimal compared to what they'd have to do to stop them.
"Why not?" McG asked as his curiosity got the better of him. "I mean, no offense, man, but your part in this op was technically done. We could have easily handled getting to the kid and finding the second bomber without you."
The gaze that locked onto him was cold and full of anger so cold it burned. Now McG could see how Amir had passed for an Isis operative. Before it had been a little baffling to him; Amir was…not soft exactly, but he wasn't the type of man to intimidate at first glance. Now he understood. Amir pivoted so that he could face McG better. "If I had stayed behind, then Asim would be dead."
"Yeah, and the kid was willing to blow himself up for a cause," McG reasoned. Though, he silently amended, that wasn't entirely true, was it? They had been led to believe that the kid was willing, but the truth of the matter was, he didn't go through with it; he couldn't.
Amir's expression never changed, but McG thought he could see the brown eyes flatten in anger.
"And we wouldn't have known otherwise unless you had been there to tell us," McG added on a sigh. It hadn't necessarily been what Amir had wanted to hear, he knew, but it was as close as McG was gonna get to conceding Amir's point. He didn't add that he thought one less potential bomber in the world was a good thing since he knew it wouldn't go over well with his teammate.
Amir didn't respond. He continued to stare at McG with that flat stare for another minute or two and then he gingerly pivoted so that he was once again looking at the their teammates on the other side of the plane.
Figuring that was all he was going to get out the man for the time being, McG felt free to close his eyes and take a nap. When they hit turbulence, it wasn't the jolt that woke him up, it was the groan that came from the man next to him. McG looked over at his patient, his teammate, in time to see Amir's jaw tighten, his right hand surreptitiously grabbing his left. If he was aware of the scrutiny, Amir didn't show it. His gaze remained ahead of him, as though resolve alone was keeping him upright and with a neutral expression on his face. If that was how he wanted it, so be it. McG settled back again and let sleep take him under once more. If Amir wanted to keep secrets, he'd let him. There would come a time when McG would need to know about Amir's past, but right here, right now wasn't it.
oOo
He knew McG was watching him, but he didn't care. Amir wasn't ready to talk; more specifically, he wasn't ready to talk about his sister with his team. For now, he was content to leave his past in between him and Top. The others would need to be informed eventually. But not today.
Looking around, Amir was only partly surprised to find that he was the only one not asleep. He should have been sleeping too, but he was too uncomfortable to do so. The steady throb from his shoulder was easy enough to ignore. He'd been doing it ever since the injury had occurred. But the fire which seared through the arm when it was moved was less so. It took minor efforts of concentration to make sure that he didn't jostle with the plane, which meant that he was not able to sleep like his teammates.
So, in the din of the plane, Amir allowed himself to unwind a little. Most of their ops were easy enough for him to shrug off once they were finished, but this one had hit a little too close to home. He couldn't do it this time. Instead, he sat, with his back against the side of the plane, staring ahead. He didn't see Top resting as comfortably as possible. Nor did he see Preach or Jaz, who flanked him. All Amir saw were the memories that floated before his eyes: his sister playing the piano, her smile; the slight disappointment when he'd asked her to take the bus so he could sleep a little bit longer. These were the images of his past, and they were just as haunting now as they had been right after the explosion.
Amir appreciated that, of those that knew his backstory, Top had been one of the few who hadn't bothered trying to tell him that it wasn't his fault. In fact, it hadn't been discussed between them at all. Amir knew that Top knew, though. Adam Dalton was a good team leader; he was thorough and careful in choosing his next team member. Amir knew that Top would have looked into him as far back as he could go before he'd let Amir anywhere near his team. The side looks that Top had randomly given Amir during the mission had only helped to confirm Amir's suspicions. And yet, Top had never brought the subject up. Amir took comfort in that, letting his eyes close and his head begin to rest in the nook behind him.
What seemed like minutes later, Amir woke with a jolt as the plane landed. It was hard to determine if it was the movement that woke him or the fire that had seared through his shoulder as they both seemed to happen simultaneously. Amir allowed the pain to wash over him for a minute then he stamped down on it, controlling it rather than letting it control him.
When he went to grab his things, Top stopped him with a, "No. You go inside and have McG fully examine you while we unload. We got this."
"Top," Amir began, fully ready to protest and claim that he was fine. He wasn't. They all knew that. But he wasn't ready to accept special treatment for a wound which most of them could probably brush aside. He stopped when he noticed a hardness come into the blonde's posture. The man was ready to wrestle Amir into the building where their Jeep waited if he had to. For a minute, Amir thought about pointing out the fact that his other arm was fine and that he was perfectly capable of carrying something inside with him, but he then thought better of it. "Fine," he conceded with enough joviality to show that he wasn't entirely offended by the treatment.
Amir wasn't sure what more McG could do, besides change the dressings should they need it, but he went anyways. Maybe he could even talk the medic into wrapping the wound so that he could still make Shakshuka in the morning without too much hassle. Throwing a glance back to the plane, he wasn't too sure Top would let him. Then again. He didn't have to know until the meal was ready. No sense in asking permission when he fully planned on doing it anyways, right?
oOo
"You do know there wasn't much more that I could do, don't you?"
Adam smiled when he heard McG's voice. He knew the medic would seek him out eventually, he just hadn't been sure when. Turning around, he handed McG one of the many bags they had taken with them. "I do," he admitted. "But it was the only way I could see us keeping Amir from attempting to unload."
"True," the other man granted, grabbing the bag and taking it to the Jeep. When he came back, he grabbed one of his own, rather than taking the one Adam held out to him.
"How is he?" Adam asked as they made their way to the vehicle and threw the bags inside.
"Thankfully the holes aren't that big. He should have plenty of time to heal before our next op." Grabbing another couple of bags, they went back to the Jeep. "He should take it fairly easy for right now, though I suspect we might have to make him."
Not surprising. While the wounds may not have been large, bullet wounds hurt. Amir may have been good at hiding it, but Adam knew the ex-spy was in pain. "Is he still determined to make us a traditional breakfast?"
McG shrugged. "If he is, he didn't mention it to me."
"Fair enough," Adam said as they finished loading the vehicle and slammed the tailgate shut. "Get the others so we can go home."
Once they were all in the Jeep, Adam pulled out of the airport and drove them all back to camp. To most it would have been strange to consider a bunker made out of metal, with very little privacy to speak of, home, but that was precisely what it was. It was the place they all went to when their work was done. It was their safe haven when they needed rest. And it was currently where Adam fully intended on making sure that Amir followed his doctor's orders.
oOo
As it turned out, the only thing truly difficult about making breakfast in the morning was lifting the pan. The sturdiness of the heavy iron skillet also made it difficult to lift with one hand. He managed, of course, but it certainly wasn't graceful. Or quiet, he thought as he heard the team begin to wake up and move around in the sleeping quarters next door. The rest of the process went quite smoothly. As the rest of the team slowly got moving and joined him, Amir began the food prep.
Jaz was the first one out. She walked slowly towards the coffee, looking uncomfortable, almost hesitant. Guessing that she wanted to talk about something, Amir pretended not to notice as he gave the Shakshuka a minimal stir.
"The, uh," she began as she grabbed a mug down. "The team member you replaced? His name was Elijah Vallins. He pulled off more crazy things than anyone I've ever worked with." Amir looked over at her, giving her his full attention, though she wasn't even looking at him. This story wasn't one that Jaz wanted to tell him, but he would listen anyway, knowing there would be a reason she had chosen now to tell him. "And then one day he walks in the wrong door and that's it. The, the thing is, I was right behind him. I caught him when he fell."
"I'm sorry," he said with complete sincerity. He knew full-well what that felt like and he was truly sorry she had experienced it as well.
"Yeah," she said, brushing it aside. "So, uh, you know, you being undercover like that, it probably pushed some buttons I didn't know I had."
Ah. She was, in her own way, apologizing for her behavior. Amir didn't necessarily think that she needed to. He understood why she was angry, and he had been just as angry, if not more. He shrugged, regretting it as fire seared through his shoulder. "A girl in trouble who I thought I couldn't help," he said, hoping he hid the pain he felt. Pushing away from the leaning stance he'd taken against the counter and moving back towards the food, he continued, "maybe that pushed some buttons too."
Amir fiddled with things around the stove for a moment, doing his best to look busy while he gave her a moment to recalibrate. "So," he said as he grabbed the bag of flower and put it on the countertop by the stove. "Has your mom ever made you a traditional breakfast before?"
"My mom?" Jaz asked as she got comfortable in her little spot by the coffee pot. "Let's just say, she wasn't the traditional anything."
"Yeah, I can see that," Amir joked, actually managing to get a laugh out of her. He took a couple steps over so that he could begin to hand her plates, not missing the way she shied away from him out of disgust, or anger, or whatever her reasons were before.
Rather than take the pan to the table, Amir thought it best to put the servings on the plates and then let each team member take their plate to the table. While Jaz spread the plates out in a line, Amir grabbed each one, placing food on it, and then setting it back down in the lineup. It aggravated his wound as he had to use his left to hold the plate while he dished with his right, but he didn't let it stop him. Compared to some of the other things they'd done recently, this was nothing.
"You do realize," Jaz said as she grabbed silverware, a napkin, and a plate and took it to the table, "that both Top and McG are gonna get on your ass for this, right?" She took a bit, her eyes rolling back in her head in delight. "This delicious food isn't going to save you from that. You know that, right?"
"Save him from what?" McG asked as he left the sleeping quarters, clad as he usually was in a tee shirt and sweatpants, and joined them. He paused for a moment at the table before stepping around it to grab his own set of utensils and food, then sitting down.
"From the fact that we told him to take it easy, and cooking a traditional breakfast, no matter how good it may be, is not taking it easy," Top answered, sounding mildly annoyed, as he entered.
"You're just sayin' that cause you haven't tasted it," Preach pitched in as he, too, grabbed some food and sat down to eat it.
Annoyed expression still on his face, Top grabbed a plate as well, also grabbing the one left for Amir, and taking both to the table. Giving Amir a pointed look, he retrieved two sets of utensils and napkins then sat down as well.
"I don't know how many times I can say this before you believe me," Amir said as he sat down. "I'm fine. I do not need to 'take it easy'."
"You should take it easy on your shoulder for today," McG said before shoveling more food in. "Not use your arm as much."
"Does that mean you're going to clean up?" Amir countered, earning a snort from the medic. "I didn't think so."
"That doesn't mean that you are," Top said, looking rather pointedly at the rest of them. "This is really good, though." He finished off his serving quickly, then got down to writing up a post-mission report.
"Anybody want some more?" Amir offered, getting up and going over to the pan before anyone could stop him. "I've got some leftover."
"More?" Jaz asked incredulously. "I don't think I'll ever eat again."
"Let's be clear: you're on breakfast detail, every day from now on, Amir," Preach said with enough emphasis to make Amir feel pride. He turned back to the pan to hide his smile and fiddled with the extra food within it.
"Seriously, man," McG added, tearing off another piece of his bread. "You got anymore of that shakakan?"
Even though he knew that the medic was just teasing him, Amir pivoted ever so slightly so that he could face the man and corrected him, "Shakshuka."
"Bring it over," McG invited, making the others laugh at him.
Fully prepared to take the pan over, Amir picked it up, only to immediately set it back down with a small groan. He hadn't expected that much pain in using the arm. It felt like it hurt more today than it had yesterday. Time could make such a difference, he knew, as the muscle stiffened, but he also suspected that it had something to do with the fact that he was more at peace today than he had been yesterday. The ghosts from his past had spent last night haunting him, disappearing with the dawn of a new day, back into the far reaches of his memory.
"Yeah, you're fine alright," Jaz teased with an eye roll. Amir glared at her but to no effect. She merely grinned at him, then got up, grabbed the pan for him, and then sat back down. She waited a few minutes, watching him all the while, then she said, "Are you gonna sit back down or what?"
"If he does, it had better be in a really comfortable place," Top said almost absently. "Because he won't be moving from that spot for a very long time."
"Since when did you turn into a mother hen?" McG asked.
"Since a member of my team keeps insisting that he's okay and refuses to take care of himself."
"That's not what this is," Amir insisted, sitting back down at the table. He sighed, trying to figure out how to explain so that they might understand.
"Regardless," Top argued back when Amir had taken too long to finish his thought. "You will be sitting somewhere, I don't care where, resting for the rest of the day. End of discussion."
Knowing a losing argument when he saw one, Amir held up his right hand in surrender.
"So who's gonna clean up then?" McG asked, clearly hoping that it wouldn't be him.
"Well I would say you, McG, but I actually want to eat off of clean dishes, so I'm gonna opt for Jaz or Preach."
"Hey, I can clean a dish," McG argued, pretending to be hurt by the opposite assumption. After the team stared at him for a minute he shrugged, adding, "I just don't choose to."
"Yeah, okay," Jaz said, laughing. Without further debate, she got up and grabbed hers and Amir's plates. Depositing them on the counter, she went back to the table and grabbed Top's, then the now empty pan. "Go on," she added when Amir remained where he was. He looked up at her, arching an eyebrow. "You heard Top," she explained. "That seat's gonna get far less comfortable the longer you sit there."
"Any preference on what I'm supposed to do for the next several hours while I'm 'resting'?" Amir asked as he did as told and got up.
"As long as you aren't moving that arm, I don't care," Top answered.
Amir chuckled before settling down on the leather sofa. He was careful in doing so, knowing full well just how much it would hurt if he wasn't. It was odd for him to have a team like this one. In the field, you have to depend on yourself and no one else. Sure, you sometimes had someone giving you intel through a bug, but in the end, it came down to your own instincts and judgment.
Now, he had people who cared about him. People who had his back, who protected him. This, Amir thought as he looked around at each person in turn, I could get used to.
Finnis