My normal/usual disclaimer - medical inconsistencies.
*sigh* and I thought this was going to be a short one...seriously, what is it about me and this show?! Holidays are coming, I need to stop! And I can't...ARRGH!


"No movement." Ray reported to Trent, his attention out the window. "All's quiet, what we got?"

Trent dragged Clay by the ankles away from the wall until he was lying flat on his back. He first removed Clay's helmet, checked it for cracks or dents or even dirt, any sign it had suffered a blow – found nothing, set it aside.

"Pulse is rapid, he's panting, skin's dry." Trent called out as he felt Clay up from his shins to his chin, found no holes in his cloths, no broken bones. "In this heat, dressed in full gear, he should be sweating like we are."

Ray sighed, turning from the window to meet Trent's eyes. "So what, you're saying he fainted? He can't possibly have dehydrated so fast." Trent shrugged. "Seriously?" Ray complained. "Jason is going to kill us."

"We've had this problem with him before, Eric's always on him about it."

"Yeah, but….yeah, no. People don't dehydrate that fast." Ray insisted, paused. "Do they?" Because Trent would know more than Ray would about medical details.

"Apparently, he does." Trent pulled a bottle of Gatorade from his backpack. "Not a big deal, now we know it, we just make sure he drinks more of this." He poured a bit of the red drink over Clay's lips, waited to see if the kid would lick at the moisture. He did, so Trent slid a hand under Clay's head, raised it from the floor and supported it while allowing him small sips. When Clay swallowed, Trent let him have more then cut him off. Cay protested with a whine, but Trent held firm. "In a bit kid."

"He doesn't like warm Gatorade." Ray argued. "That," he pointed, "Is out of the cooler. Room temperature makes him throw a fit…..don't wanna see him, you make him drink it after being out in the sun all day."

Clay stirred, wanted to raise a hand, hold his forehead, but every time he tried, his hand was slapped down. He was pushed and pulled, his feet lifted one at a time, hands were at his waist, his belt, his zipper, tugging, wanting him to lift his hips….he did. Tried again to hold his head, again was denied. The weight of his vest fell away, the pinch of the ammo clips was gone, he was sitting up, his backpack slid of his shoulders. He ducked his chin when his shirt came off over his head and then he was on his back, wearing nothing but his t-shirt and underwear.

He should feel scared, feel threatened, he had no idea what was going on, but he didn't. The hands were rough, but not abusive. The movements were fast and confident, experienced, and somehow familiar. He heard the buzz of a conversation but couldn't distinguish words. He concentrated for a moment, waited to hear his name, or a command to open his eyes, but when neither came, he went limp.

"Tough shit." Trent snorted. "He wants to keep his job, he'll learn to drink it without a fucking fuss." He easily manhandled Clay one way, then the other, rolling, pushing, shoving until he had the kid stripped to his t-shirt and boxer briefs. Ray didn't offer to help, if anyone could get them outta their gear and clothes in record time, it was Trent. And this time, he didn't even have to cut off anything. Trent sat back on his heels with a sigh, back of his hand against Clay's forehead. "I don't trust him Ray."

Ray blinked in surprised. "Say what?"

"You, me, I'd say, eh, dehydrated. Get out of the sun, cool down, drink, good to go. But not this one." He wasn't happy the offer of Gatorade and its acceptance, being out of his gear and clothes, wasn't bringing Clay around. "Not this one."

"He's proving to be a pickle, eh?"

"Better safe than sorry." Trent pushed to his feet. The kid was limp and floppy, not uncooperative but not coordinated either. "Gonna look for a bathroom with running water. Gonna be a while before Sonny gets back for us."

Ray nodded, waved him on. He'd find it. He'd find whatever he was after because whatever he wanted would be for Clay and the kid had a lucky horseshoe up his ass. He snorted. Sonny, huh? Yeah, right, oh hell no. Sonny wouldn't be coming for them alone.

No activity out the window, Ray took a break, moved to Clay's side, who of course, now that Trent was gone, was stirring. Rather than being annoyed or angry, Ray was amused. He kept his rifle across his lap, had a silent conversation with the good Lord above over his quirky sense of humor: giving Jason Clay.

Ha! That had knocked their conceited Boss down a rung or two. This kid gave him a run for his money, kept him on his toes, kept him thinking. Mmmm, not a bad thing.

The kid was giving them all fits, had put them all through the wringer, made them face hard choices and harsh facts but the bottom line was; not many men would have disobeyed orders, left the transport, sought high ground and took, let alone, made the shot. All on his own. And yes, Ray had to admit, if Clay hadn't been feeling well, it would have been better to shoot her dead then to aim for her thumb and miss. Yes, he realized bringing one – whoever they were – in alive had benefits and Ellis would be pleased, but both Jason and Eric were going to say; it hadn't been worth the risk.

Oh yeah, Clay would be running hills for a week.

That. All that, is why Bravo had decided to keep the kid. Cocky, sure. Arrogant, yes. Conceited, definitely. Full of himself, without a doubt. Anyone better, more confident, willing to take the risks, accept the punishment, do whatever he had to, to protect his team? Hell, no.

"Clay?" Ray tried to gain his attention, wanted him to wake up, talk to him. "Hey, you with me."

"Mmm." He licked his lips, tongue between his teeth, rolled his head on the dirty floor. "Head hurts." He palmed his forehead. "S'm hot."

Ray offered Clay some Gatorade, pleased that he swallowed it, only dribbled a bit down his chin. Ray's fault, maybe he'd given him too much.

"He awake?" Trent was back. "Found a bathroom, tub's filling."

"For what? Why?" Ray looked up, cast a look at the window. "Said he's hot, his head hurts."

"Bet it does." Trent sighed, spread his hands, shrugged. "Ray, I'm learning as I go with him. I never know what to expect. It's why I told you to leave him at the transport when he drank Gatorade instead of water. Whether he knew it or not, that's a telltale sign." Duh, Ray, we just had this conversation!

Ray looked towards Heaven, Trent gave him a look, then looked at the ceiling to see what had caught Ray's attention. He saw nothing while Ray congratulated the good Lord for giving Clay Trent as his medic. Trent liked - loved - a challenge, never backed down or away and he certainly wouldn't be bored with Spenser on the team.

"Is it serious?" Ray felt the first stirring of unease in his belly. Trent was calm, so that was good, right? "You think he knew?"

Damn good thing Trent was just like his Boss, Jason found Clay a unique challenge too or the kid would never still be on Bravo.

"Just a precaution," Trent grabbed Clay's arm, pulled him up, squatted down. "I think he felt dizzy or weak, but no, he would have told me." He locked his knees, pushed up. "Water's here, nothing to do but wait for Sonny to come get us, better safe than sorry. I don't know how high his temperature is."

"His temp…? Wait, what?" Was Trent thinking possible heat exhaustion, heat stroke? So, cold water immersion? Ray didn't think Clay was that bad, a cold bath probably overkill but yeah, why risk it. No ice here anyway, just cold, not ice cold, water. Ray guessed if Clay hadn't rattled Trent by drinking not-quite-cold Gatorade, he wouldn't find himself about to take a cold bath. "Dehydration Trent, doesn't require an ice bath."

"It's Clay." Trent rose to his feet with a grunt, Clay wasn't a big guy, but the little shit weighed a freaking ton. "It's not heat stroke, but I just feel better doing it." Roger that, Ray nodded, he wasn't going to argue. Nuh-huh. Not with Trent. Not over something like this. Clay didn't fight or protest, but once upside down over Trent's shoulder, he gagged, choking. "Sonofa….." And there came the red Gatorade.

Ray put his rifle down, moved to help Trent swing Clay off his shoulder.

"He doesn't like that, huh." Ray juggled Clay's shoulders into his arms, got a firm grip, let Trent carry Clay's feet and backed out of the room, following Trent's instructions. He didn't like leaving his stance by the window, but their only other option to move Clay was for Trent to drag him. Yeah, Ray didn't like that thought.

"He ain't gonna like this either." Trent muttered, entered the bathroom as Ray backed in.

"We easing him in?" Ray asked. "Or dropping him?" He eyed the tub. "Trent, that tub is not clean."

Trent rolled his eyes, like it mattered. "Not trying to get him clean Ray." He huffed. "Ease him in. He might flail, splash, you'll get wet."

"Will feel good." Ray blew him off. "I'm good."

"Ass first, then his shoulders, you go down first….easy kid, you're okay." Trent murmured, ducked a splash of water from a kicking foot. "I've got him." He told Ray once Clay was in the tub, knew Ray was anxious to return to the window. "We're good, go."

"You sure he's okay? Just the heat? Dehydrated."

"Yup." Trent nodded. "Drink something."

Bolstered by Trent's firm, unshakable confidence, Ray left him to watch Clay and went back to scout out the window, bottle of water in his hand.

"No." Clay muttered, the cold water a shock. "No." His hands flopped, splashed, tried to first grip the side of the tub with both hands, then a hand on either side, then went under the water, palms down on the bottom, but again, Clay failed to find the strength to push himself out of the water. He next tried to pull his feet up, sit forward, but Trent used both hands, one on each shoulder to hold him down - gently, not restrained.

"Clay, hey, enough." Trent said firmly, somewhat sternly. "Enough, give it a minute, it'll start to feel good."

Clay stilled, he knew that voice, trusted that voice, it always somehow made him feel better. Now, if only he could find who the voice belonged to. He reached out, slapping at the side of the tub, it was all he could touch, feel, and it wasn't what he wanted.

"I'm right here." Trent put a palm on the kid's chest, let Clay clasp his sleeve at the wrist. "Right here Clay." He was fast learning Clay was content when he was with someone he trusted, could touch them or somehow hold on to them. Soon, Trent was going to have to share what he was learning with the rest of Bravo. He imagined Sonny being the one Clay was with when he grabbed hold and wouldn't let go, snickered. Oh yeah, that wasn't going to go over well.

Clay liked to cling but he never knew he was doing it and he never remembered doing it. The kid sure was testing his abilities as a medic.

"Cold." But Clay settled down in the tub, no longer attempted to get out, didn't resist when Trent gently encouraged him to wiggle down into the water, knees up. Might not be a comfortable or dignified position, but Trent wanted Clay's torso and as much of his shoulders as possible submerged in the water, didn't care about his knees.

"Sssh." Trent shushed him, gently used the hand Clay didn't hold by the wrist to intermittently slosh water over the rest of him. "Not going anywhere, 'k?"

He had Ray bring him a bottle of Gatorade, hoped Jason never found out that instead of leaving Clay alone for two seconds, he chose to have Ray leave the window unguarded for a good minute.

***000***

Lance wondered how Jason knew where to go. It occurred to him there was more communication via comms than he was aware of. He had no idea what the hell was going on. Why they had returned instead of just Sonny? Why was a Master Chief going after one of his own men when there were plenty of other soldiers to conduct the search? Drive him back to base. Why the hell was Blackburn with them?

He had a lot of questions but he stayed on Jason's heels, jogged across the lot, down an alley, into a building and up 3 flights of stairs. He had no idea where they were going or what he was supposed to do when they got there, but he kept up the pace, only stopping when Jason charged into a room where Ray, poised at the window, his back to the door, said:

"Hey Boss."

How the hell had Ray known it was Jason? Right, Lance nodded, Ray must have seen them coming. Still though, how would Ray know Jason had been first through the door?

"The hell Ray? Not safe here." Jason greeted. Lance nearly ran into his back, managed to avoid a collision by side-stepping and hopping over a broken chair. He looked around, didn't see Trent or Clay. "Area is not secure. Why are you still here? Thought you'd meet us. Where is he? You got him, let's go!"

"Know that Jay." Ray replied, jerked a thumb over his shoulder to an open doorway across the hall. "See Trent."

"He not mobile?" Jason asked, crossed the room, moved into the hallway, heading for the open doorway. "I got two at the truck, four scouting the area, we gotta go." He clapped his hands. "Get him up, let's move."

"We haven't seen any movement since Sonny left with the prisoner." Ray shook his head. "Haven't even heard a truck."

"Did you hear us come back?" Jason waited, Ray shrugged sheepishly. "Yeah, what I thought. Pick him up, let's go." He charged through the door, loomed in the doorway. "The fuck Trent!"

Lance was confused. Jason had come all the way out here to…..uh….what? Berate his men? Curse them out?

"Not happening." Trent said simply, he nonchalantly sat on the side of the tub, a hand making waves in the water. "Howdy Jace."

Jace? The medic called the boss by his first name? No, wait a nickname. Oh, wait, so had Ray. Boss, Jace, Jay, asshole, Lance thought.

Lance saw Jason falter, pause, but didn't know the reason was because of the use of his nickname(s). He looked at Ray, could see out the door and through the other, Trent sat on the side of an old cast-iron clawed tub that Clay was sprawled in, then back to Ray, cast a side-eyed glance towards Jason. Why had Hayes and Blackburn come all the way out here? Sonny could have easily returned on his own in a Humvee to pick his team up…..and like Ray had said, they could have called for a helo…...Blackburn was out here! Lance still couldn't wrap his head around that.

"Why are you still here?" Jason demanded. "Why is he taking a bath?"

Lance's mouth dropped, he quickly turned his back. A bath? Really? That's what Bravo's boss wanted to know? Is that what he really thought?

"Where else were we supposed to wait?" Ray was beginning to get an attitude. Lance backed away, started for the window. "Outside in the heat? The sun? We'd have to carry him and there was no one to cover us."

"Toss him over your shoulder and go!" Jason waved a hand in demonstration. "Not that hard Ray, we can all carry his weight."

"Tried." Ray admitted. "Doesn't hang upside down well Jay."

Jason backed into the room, saw the red splatter on the floor. "Give him water."

"Talk to Trent about that." Ray replied.

"The hell is his problem this time?" Jason sighed, the frantic panic subsiding now that he had Clay in his sight and Trent was relaxed and calm. "What happened?"

"We left him at transport." Ray left the window, saw Lance was coming to take his place, motioned for him to put a pep in his step before Jason yelled at him.

"Then what the fuck is he doing here?" Here meant it all; the third floor of the building, in a tub of water, Trent by his side, holding onto Trent's sleeve. The hell was that? Not like the kid was in danger of drowning.

"They saw a group of kids…."

"Who did? They?" Jason interrupted. "Who's they?"

"Chris and the others." Ray pointed at Lance, called Jason's attention to him.

"You! What are you doing?" Jason snapped his fingers, pointed. "Window, cover us. Do your job."

Lance gulped, moved over to the window, aimed his rifle, sited and scanned the area.

"Clay decided to follow her when the kids went one way, she went another. She had an S vest…..he went high….you know the rest." Ray pointed at Lance, shook his head, made a cutting motion with his hand. Jason glared. Ray's hands went to his hips, Jason sighed, backed down.

"Why wasn't he with you?" Jason softened his tone.

Ray looked at the ceiling, out the window, at Lance, at the floor.

"Why. Wasn't. He. With. You." Jason repeated, teeth gritted, jaw not moving.

Lance was glad he had his back to the room, the men couldn't see him wince over Jason's tone.

Trent shrugged. "He drank Gatorade rather than water."

Jason, in the hallway between the two rooms, threw his hands up in a WTF motion, gave a shimmy-shake. "I'm supposed to know what the fuck that means?" His tone was sharp, but he wasn't yelling - least, not yet.

"I've noticed when he hasn't had enough to drink and it's hot out, he will choose Gatorade over water." Trent replied.

"You've noticed?" Jason repeated sarcastically. "Just notice things like that, huh?"

Lance scanned the corner of an alley, thought he saw movement in the shadow of a building. He needed to pay all his attention to what his job was, not focus on the argument behind him. Still, he was in awe that in the face of Jason's anger, Trent didn't stutter or hem and haw.

"Today confirms it. I don't think he even realizes it Jace, but that kid winces, I'm on him and you damn well know it." Trent explained. "He either feels dizzy or weak or maybe just off and that makes him choose the Gatorade, it's not necessarily a conscious choice."

"Why can't anything ever be simple and easy with that kid?" Jason complained but moved on.

"Cause he's Clay!" Ray joked. He was in the room with Lance, Jason closer to the room with Trent and Clay.

"It's my opinion." Trent clarified. "From watching him, keeping notes." Now that he had pointed it out, both Jason and Ray would be watching the kid like a hawk watched a mouse. Oh yea, they would get their kid figured out.

"So, what? He dehydrated?" Jason was quick, Lance would give him that. Lance would never have made the connection and Jason just jumped to the correct conclusion. "That fast?"

"Yup." Trent said. "From now on, Gatorade or PowerAde, whatever Davis has. We just need to keep an eye on him, if we see him choose drink over water, he's either dehydrated or soon will be." He looked down at Clay, Jason's brows met, was Trent trying to hold back a smile? "And don't hang him upside down." He added.

"So, you benched him."

"Ray did." Trent corrected. He pointed to himself, shook his head. "I don't have the authority to do it."

"Because you told him to." Jason pushed his hands through his hair. "Dehydrated again, unbelievable." He sighed, Trent nodded. "He disobeyed a direct order. Again. And he took the shot?"

"We wouldn't be here, he didn't boss." Ray said.

"The hell Trent? I sent him with you because all you were supposed to do was check out a shop rumored to be a front for selling dope." Jason wanted to punch something, refrained. "He would have been better off with me and Brock today."

"Hey, don't yell at me." Trent protested. "Yell at him." He splashed water in Clay's face. "You're mad at him, let him have it."

"Well, I would, he were awake. Why isn't he?" He wasn't mad at anyone, he was worried and it pissed him off. "Coffee and scones, ring any bells? Not find suicide vests."

It was Trent's turn to look everywhere but at Jason.

"Trent!"

Trent held a hand up. "He's not in distress Jason. He'll come around, you splash water in his face." He splashed Clay again. "See?" Clay rolled his head on the back of the tub, raised a hand to wipe his face. "Yeah, he's dehydrated, our fault as well as his own."

"You're going to tell us how we can avoid this from happening again!" Jason barked. "You hear me?"

Lance froze. Say what? Not what he ever expected to hear Jason say.

"Easily done." Trent said, not bothering to point out, he'd just did. "We ever suspect he's dehydrated, all he's gotta do is show us his tongue. It's white, he's dehydrated."

"White tongue, keep him off water, on sports drinks and don't hang him upside down." Ray rattled off. "Done."

Jason sighed, sat down on the tub side next to Trent. That was it? A white tongue? Eh, yup, easy-peasy, who cared if anyone thought it weird if Bravo ran around, always telling their rookie to stick out his tongue. "So what, he fainted?"

"Hard to tell with him. Get him back to the infirmary, let doc have a go at him, but yeah, I'd say so. I guess."

"You think there's something else?"

"Ever since he threw a reaction to Demerol and not morphine, I'm always gonna think there's something more."

"I'm too old for this shit." Jason muttered, lowering a hand to help Trent swirl the water. Soon his sleeve up to his elbow, like Trent's, was wet. "Why are we doing this?"

Good thing Lance had a windowsill his weight was supported on or he would have fallen right out the window. He'd turned to dare a look over his shoulder to see what Jason was asking about, was floored to see Jason-the-asshole-Hayes sitting beside his teams medic on the side of a filthy bathtub, splashing water without any care to getting himself soaked.

"Splash water on him."

Yeah, that explained nothing, but whatever. Trent could tell him to sing a lullaby and to see those blue eyes blink up at him, clear and alert, he'd sing the only one he knew – Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star. Alana used to sing Brahms lullaby to the kids but that was beyond his reach both then and now.

"When can we go?" Jason asked a moment later. "Don't feel at ease out here. Patrolling in twos, not safe."

"I'd rather not go until he's awake and coherent on his own, but we can carry him. Ray and, who is he?" Trent paused, noticed Lance. "New on support, huh? They can cover us. Can Chris bring the truck closer?

"Hey, uh….um….you…..yeah…well….." Hell, what was Lance supposed to call them? "Guys? We got movement."

Ray was next to him in a second, sniper rifle balanced on the windowsill. "Boss, I see two."

Jason was off the tub and out in the hallway, calling Sonny on the comms, then Davis.

Lance, standing right next to Ray, watched in, well – awe? horror? – as the two people he saw walking a block over just dropped. Ray hadn't fired, though he easily could have, he was trained on them, so then, who had?

"Eliminated." Eric came over the comms.

Lance heard it, so they must be back on a channel or frequency he could receive.

"Boss, what's the hold up?" Sonny said next. "We're attracting company out here."

"Getting too close for comfort Jason." Eric added.

"Right, okay, yeah." Jason motioned to Trent who nodded. "We're heading out, meet at transport. Sonny, Brock, fall back, cover from behind."