Chapter Four – If It Can Go Wrong, It Will Go Wrong
"Persistence can grind an iron beam down into a needle." (unknown)
Three months . . . three months and even with Jensen spending all the time Clay could spare him from his official duties on his laptop trying to find useful information, he had come up with nothing . . . nada, niks, nishto, ništa . . . it didn't matter how many languages, how many search engines or what parameters he used: Jensen had come up with fuck all reliable or useful information about werewolves.
The itch under his skin was already there, he recognized it now; it was there all the time but as the full moon approached its power grew. He had three days left, three days until he was fuck all use to his team. It didn't get any easier, not the change, not the emotions, nothing helped. He knew that Clay was doing all he could to time their missions and hide the truth from the chain of command. He knew that as his time approached, his attention slipped and when he changed back and was as weak as a newborn pup, that Pooch, Roque, Cougar were picking up the slack, covering for him. Not one of them complained, apart from Roque, but there was no real malice in his words so it really didn't count.
They were all waiting for him to find an answer and that was just another way he was failing them all. He was so tired and tomorrow night he had to get into a building and retrieve a database. He needed to do this. He couldn't let his team down. He rubbed at his eyes, hoping to make his view clearer, but it was only when Cougar shut the lid on his laptop that he finally admitted defeat and gave into his body's need for rest.
He looked up at Cougar and tried to think of a snappy retort but nothing came. The words just tumbled uselessly round in his sleep-deprived brain not making sense. "'m tired," h e mumbled.
"I know," Cougar said, his voice soft. "You need sleep." Jensen nodded, pushing back from the table he'd been working at and stumbling over to his pack and the bed roll alongside, before dropping down and closing his eyes.
He flopped over and back a few times trying to get comfortable before muttering, "Coug?" Cougar crossed the room and settled down beside him. Jensen shuddered before Cougar shifted position, allowing Jensen to curl in closer to him. They had all noticed that Jensen seemed to need the closer proximity the nearer the full moon got, as if his tendency as a wolf to bury his nose under someone's hand or on their stomach and breathe in their scent kicked in earlier than the full change. Jensen hadn't worked out how to put it into words, how to explain what was actually going through his head at the time, but in his own mind, it was that the sense of 'team' and 'pack' invaded his being and calmed his anxieties. He had spent a lot of time lately thinking and he hadn't failed to notice how Cougar seemed to be even more effective than the others at calming him. He tried to rationalize it, reason it away with thoughts of Cougar's calm patience, his ability to stay still and wait in silence for what had always felt like forever to Jensen. Cats and dogs that was the two of them but for some reason, their friendship worked.
He breathed deeply, settling more comfortably into his spot beside Cougar, the scent of his pack/team-mate soothing his tension, easing the vibrations that had been coursing through him. He let his thoughts drift, his mind wander . . . he slept.
Cougar could sense the growing agitation in Jensen. The pattern was becoming familiar now he knew what to look for, but this time there was frustration as well. Jensen had spent every spare moment of the last two months looking for answers, for any speck of information about what was happening to him and had still found nothing of any use. Real werewolves clearly didn't have time to blog, while a whole pile of hoaxers and attention seeking weirdos clearly had nothing better to do. Cougar had spent a lot of time hovering nearby, looking over Jensen's shoulder to see what he had found, watching the younger man each time he thought he'd found something only to have his hopes dashed again.
Clay had been keeping Jensen's duties to a minimum but he still had to train and do the research and communications tasks that he was employed to do. The whole team was worried. It wasn't just that once a month Jensen changed into a werewolf, it went beyond that. There was the pain that Jensen would be in from the day before the change through it and back again and it would last a day or two beyond, leaving him weak and exhausted. Cougar wondered if the pain wasn't there more of the time, but Jensen hid it well.
It was also the way Jensen was changing as a person, losing his self-confidence, second-guessing things he didn't need to. There was the way his eyes were always red and dry, sore from over-exposure to the computer screen, day after day of staring. He was losing weight since without the others to prompt him, he'd forget to eat or more likely, in Cougar's opinion at least, ignore the need.
Cougar had begun to suspect that Jensen was depressed, he wanted to make Clay order Jensen to see the base medic, but at the same time he was afraid of what a medic might find, might do to his friend. Clay had made contact with his doctor friend but he was on a mission overseas and wasn't expected back for another week or more, at least. It meant that Jensen would have to face another change, another round of pain without them being able to do a thing about it.
Cougar was relieved when he felt Jensen's body relax into sleep, his head pushed so close it was almost resting in the crook of Cougar's neck.
He looked up at the sound of the door opening and saw Clay look in. Cougar was no longer sure what Clay saw when Jensen was like this, what he thought. He'd seen a mix of things in Clay's expression over the last two weeks, defeat, sadness, frustration, anger and he didn't know which one would prevail. Clay's eyes were sad as they rested on Jensen, but there was something else there as he turned to take in Cougar but he said nothing and with a curt nod, withdrew closing the door behind him. Cougar didn't know what this barrier that was coming between them was, he had always respected Clay, felt more a part of this team than many of those that had gone before, but now . . . now he felt like the team was unravelling and his place in it was in danger.
Clay was relieved to see Jensen asleep finally, but couldn't ignore his own misgivings about Cougar's behavior. Tomorrow . . . Tomorrow he would deal with it. Tomorrow he would talk with Cougar alone, warn him off, move Pooch or Roque in to the room with Jensen. The kid needed someone to look after him, not take advantage of him.
The morning came quicker than Clay had hoped when the quiet of the kitchen was broken by Jensen sneaking out of his room. Clay looked over, realizing the younger man hadn't realized he wasn't alone, "Going somewhere, Corporal?"
Jensen jumped and turned to look at Clay with a guilty expression. "I – I . . . um . . . out there," he stuttered, gesturing to the door.
Clay raised his eyebrows and watched as Jensen seemed to shrink in on himself. "Sit your ass down." Jensen seemed to slink across the room before flopping down on the chair Clay had pointed to. Clay waited for a moment or two, hoping that Jensen would calm down, but when it became clear that that wasn't going to happen, he began to speak. "Jensen . . . are you okay?" Jensen nodded frantically. "This mission . . . I know we're cutting it close but . . ." he sighed, "It's a little awkward to try and completely avoid more than just the full moon. It's just tonight and then I promise there'll be nothing more until after . . ."
"I know, sir. I can do it."
Clay couldn't believe how so much had changed about Jensen, the submissive side of his wolf's behavior seemed to be encroaching more and more on his behavior throughout the rest of the month. He wasn't used to dealing with Jensen without the smartass motor mouth attitude. Fuck, he wasn't used to dealing with any of his subordinates not having more than enough attitude to spare. He'd never have believed that a lack of attitude would be more difficult to deal with than too much.
"Okay, Jensen, we need to start dealing with this better than we have been so far . . . I need my Corporal back, not some automaton."
"I'm sorry, sir."
"I don't want you to be sorry, Jensen. I want to be able to fix this, but I'm beginning to think it's not going to be so easy for us to do that. You're my go-to man when it comes to all things technological and you can't find the information we need . . . You know what I think that means? I think it means the information isn't out there. It doesn't exist, Jensen," Clay watched as Jensen bit his lip as if he wanted to blurt out a denial but instead he just tilted his head down, eyes settling on his fingers twining round each other. "Jensen," he waited until Jensen looked up, "Jensen, I think we've got to start working it out for ourselves, making our own rules. 'S what we do best after all."
Jensen sighed and nodded slowly, then said quietly, "I don't know how we do that."
"Well, that's what we better work on figuring out then." He sat back, watching Jensen's face, taking in the different expressions that settled fleetingly as Jensen mentally worked through what that would mean for them all. He thought again about what he'd seen the night before with Cougar, deciding that perhaps he should talk to Jensen as well as to Cougar about it. "Jensen . . . there's something else I want to just . . . umm, run past you."
Jensen looked back at him intently. "Is everything . . . okay between you and Cougar?"
Jensen frowned, clearly confused as he said, "Er yes, of course it is."
Clay looked awkward for a moment before murmuring, "Jensen . . . if there were something you know that . . . say erm . . . Cougar or – or anyone else for that matter wanted that you didn't want, you wouldn't have to put up with it, okay? You know that?"
"Huh?" the confusion didn't leave Jensen's face and Clay felt like he'd get further by banging his head against the wall. "What? What are we talking about?"
Clay figured that the one good thing about Jensen not knowing what he was talking about was that it meant he probably didn't need to worry about something having already happened. "Sex, Jensen, sex."
"Oh!" Jensen sounded genuinely shocked and horrified. "Nobody – nobody here's erm – there's nothing like that, honest!"
"Good. Keep it that way. Any problems, then erm . . . tell me." Clay tried to make his face look like he was approachable, like he wouldn't rather face a firing squad; he owed it to his team to make sure they were all kept safe, when they weren't laying their lives on the line for their country, of course. Clay pushed his chair back and stood as if he were about to leave. He turned back and asked, "Where were you going again?"
"Erm – out –outside!" Jensen almost squeaked, his mind obviously replaying the conversation they'd just had and it wasn't becoming any less uncomfortable.
"Right, right. Go on then and be back . . . you know . . . soon. Go!" Clay urged, ushering him from his seat and out of the door. He closed the door again, resting his forehead against it as he took a few deep calming breaths, bracing himself for the second conversation he needed to have. He turned and headed for the door to the room Jensen had left, hoping to find Cougar awake.
He knocked on the door and entered. It wasn't often he could offer his men much privacy in the field, so whenever it was possible he tried to allow them a degree of personal space and time and the respect that came with knocking on the door. As he opened that door, he was greeted with the sight of Cougar sitting on his bed, cleaning his rifle.
"Thought we could talk," he said abruptly. "I'm worried about Jensen." Cougar nodded his agreement. "We're two months down the line and we've got no more information than we had when we first found out, so . . . I figure that we're not going to see much information coming our way on this front."
He got another nod of understanding from Cougar. "So, I guess, we're going to have to look out for him ourselves, work out all the different things that will entail between us. Not exactly the sort of thing you want to take further up the chain of command." Another nod, Cougar was nothing if not predictable in so many of their conversations.
"Cougar, I want to be sure that we all have the same goal in mind – protecting Jensen. Not taking advantage of him, am I making myself clear?"
Cougar looked away, "I have done nothing to hurt him."
"So far and it had better stay that way. You're by far the best sniper I've had on this team, just like he's the best tech, but if it comes down to a choice between you . . . he got hurt on my watch and he's not going to manage with another team or . . . or even outside the Army, so I will choose him. Do you understand what I'm saying?"
"I don't know what sort of man you think I am, but I would never hurt him . . . Never!"
"I know what I can see in your face when you're watching him, in your eyes, Cougar, and I know this is a lonely life we lead and it leads to fucked up relationships all over the damn place –"
Cougar interrupted him, standing up and moving into Clay's personal space as he snapped, "I would never do anything to hurt him! I would protect him with my life!"
"Make sure you keep it that way," Clay said curtly. "I am watching, Alvarez!" Clay headed for the door, still not certain whether he'd handled it the right way. Cougar had been so isolated when he'd joined the team, it had taken months to begin to break the ice and the arrival of Jensen to have him truly accepting his place. Clay hoped that it wasn't all going to go to pieces now because he really had enough problems on his plate.
Clay had gone and Cougar had stumbled back to his bed, thoughts jumbled but the overwhelming sense was that he was fucked. Clay knew . . . he knew that Cougar's feelings went beyond friendship, beyond 'team' and that he didn't know what to do about it. He would never act on it, never jeopardize either their friendship or Jensen's safety by doing anything unwanted. It was torture but he'd rather what they had than nothing.
The mission was going to plan until just as Jensen had started to exit the office he'd been working in, Cougar saw a security guard turn into the same corridor from the opposite end. "Fuck! Jensen, take cover!" Cougar snapped over the comms.
"What? Cover? Why?" Jensen was backing into the room he'd been about to leave. He cast his eyes round the room looking for something big enough to hide behind. He'd barely scrambled behind the desk and got down before the guard reached the door. Jensen could see the silhouette of the man through the glass door and held his breath as he listened to Cougar relay what was happening to the rest of the team.
"Clay! Problem, Jensen cannot exit at present, there is a guard on the floor with him."
"Seriously? Fuck!" Clay groaned. "Can he get to the other exit from that floor?"
"No, the guard has made his way to the room Jensen is in. He is at the door."
"Can you get a shot?"
Jensen bit his lip, determined not to panic or react, to give it time. The guard would move on and everything would be fine. He could feel the wolf within driving the urge to attack, wondered if this was the madness setting in. He took a ragged breath, trying to calm the urge, trying to give himself time to think and rationalize what he was feeling. He turned his attention back to Cougar's words.
"I can, but . . . if I wait, he might move on. Then Jensen can get out and no one will know that he was there. If I shoot him now, they will know where Jensen was and which information he is likely to have taken."
It was a good point, Jensen could see that but was grateful when Cougar added, "I will take him out before Jensen is in danger."
He whispered, "Thanks, Coug," and continued to wait.
The guard's silhouette was still visible in the doorway and Jensen saw as his hand went to his radio, heard his voice echo through the empty room, "On Floor 32, all clear. I don't know what you thought you saw, but there's no sign of any movement up here."
A voice crackled back through the radio, "No visual sign, but there was interference and seriously there's something wrong with these cameras because I'm looking at all of them and I've got no visual of you, just an empty corridor. You sure you're on the right floor and not just hanging out somewhere. I've got the same problem with Bert on 28. The two of you playing cards again?"
"What?" the guard retorted. "I'm here on fucking Floor 32, doing my job, asshole! Next time you can be the one to haul your ass up here rather than sitting in front of that TV watching the playoffs!"
"I'm serious, man. The cameras are showing me empty corridors!"
"Shit!" Jensen murmured. "Clay! Clay! We have a problem, the guards have realized that the cameras are showing empty footage! Cougs' right. If I move from here now, if he takes out the guard on this floor, then they know what I was here for. What do we do?"
"Fuck! Is he going to find you, Jensen? How concealed are you?"
"Concealed! That's not really the word I'd use . . . more along the lines of crouching behind the fucking desk!" Jensen whispered harshly.
"Well, can't you find somewhere better?" Clay growled.
Jensen resisted the urge to snap back, eyes still on the guard debating with his colleague via the radio on the other side of the door. "Number one – no. And Number two – fuck no!" Jensen gritted out. "Seriously, the guy is standing on the other side of a glass door, moving now is like waving a red flag and besides that this room takes fuckin' minimalist to a whole new level. The desk is the only thing in here apart from a chair."
"Okay, okay, hold tight. Cougar's got your back. You're not in any danger. The only thing at stake here is whether we can get the stuff out undetected or not."
"Yeah, right, because the fact that guy is talking on his radio won't alert the others if Cougar does have to shoot him." Jensen sighed. "I am so fucked!"
"No! No you're not, Jensen." Clay's voice held a note of panic, coming from the knowledge that Jensen was inside alone with things going wrong yet again and his worry that Jensen wouldn't be able to keep it together long enough for them to get him out. "Jensen, just hang on . . . we're going to figure this out and get you out of there."
The voices over the comms faded to a murmur, Roque and Clay's voices distant but fast, their sense of urgency carrying through his earpiece, despite Jensen's attention being back on the door where the handle was turning. "Please, no, please . . ." he murmured under his breath. "Fuck!"
"Jensen, I have him in my sight. If he opens the door, he's a dead man," Cougar said calmly. "Te lo prometo."(1)
"Okay, okay . . ." The doorknob rattled and then went still, the guard moving on.
Jensen heard as he rattled doors further down the corridor, still talking into his radio, explaining that all the doors were still locked and there was no sign of anyone having broken in. Jensen heard his voice get fainter as he began to move away. "Jensen," Cougar's calm radiated through his earpiece and Jensen felt his own tension begin to dissipate a little. "Jensen, he is leaving your floor but he is taking your exit route. You are safe for the moment."
Clay spoke next, "You will need to move to the other exit and be prepared in case you meet anyone exiting that way. It is that or you wait and when he is out of range you can use the planned exit."
"I want out of here – I'll head out the other way. It'll be fine." Jensen was up and moving before he'd finished telling the others what he was doing. Soon all that could be heard was Jensen's pants as his breathing grew heavier the more stairs he ran down. The sound of his boots hitting the steps echoed through, broken by the occasional update, "Floor twenty-five . . . Floor twenty . . . floor fifteen . . . Floor ten . . . Floor – Argh! Fuck!" There was the sound of a scuffle and someone falling, that someone was clearly Jensen judging by the sounds that echoed through the comms.
"Jensen? Jensen!" Clay shouted. "No! Hell, no! Jensen! Talk to me!"
There was nothing, but the sound of heavy breathing and pained grunts, then finally Jensen's voice came through, weak and pained, "C-Clay . . . Shit! I . . . The floor was wet . . . I . . ." There was the sound of movement as if Jensen were trying to pull himself back to his feet then another groan of pain and the sound of him thudding back to the floor. "Colonel, I – I can't put any weight on my leg. I – It fuckin' hurts, man and . . . and when I try to stand up, I th-think I'm going to. . . erm . . . it hurts," he finished.
"Are you telling me you can't make it down? Jensen, is that what you're telling me?" There was no reply, just the sound of Jensen trying to breathe through the pain of whatever had happened. "Jensen . . . Talk to me, Corporal . . . Roque's on his way in to you. You're going to be okay, just hang in there, Jensen."
"'kay . . . I'm okay . . . I . . . Shit! I'll t-try and get further d-down," Jensen panted.
The sound of movement followed by another groan and then the sound of Jensen dropping to the floor again had Clay barking, "Sit tight, Jensen, Roque will be with you in a couple of minutes. Tell me what happened. How are you injured? Are we talking blood loss?"
"N-not really, some but, 's okay. I – I'll wipe it up, I'll clear it up . . ." There was another groan and the sound of shuffling. "There's a – a leak in the stairwell, I slipped and fell," Jensen explained quietly.
"It's gonna be okay, Corporal, we're getting you out of there," Clay reassured.
Jensen was quiet as he replied, "Yeah, I know. 'S all good." His voice slurred slightly, "I – I don' f'l so good."
"Corporal, stay with me . . . focus, Jensen, focus," Clay urged. "Roque, are you in the building yet?"
Roque hadn't even answered when Clay could hear the thud of his boots on the stairs, "I'm in and climbing. How far up are you, Jensen?"
"J-just below f-five."
Jensen was pale and shaky, barely holding on to consciousness as Roque rounded the last corner and saw him. "Jensen, stay with me, bro!" Roque dropped in front of him and began to check him over, relaying the information to the rest of the team as he worked. "Okay, I'm with Jensen. He's taken a knock to the head, eyes are a little unfocussed, possible concussion." His hands moved down Jensen's body checking for further injuries. "Okay, plenty of bruising," he held Jensen still as his actions drew a flinch away, "And one leg's banged up . . . no breakthrough of the bone, but it could be broken or maybe just dislocated. Hard to tell without taking a better look and seriously, I want to get us both out of here. I'm going to move him." He tapped Jensen on his cheek, "Focus, Corporal, we have to get out of here."
Jensen looked at him, struggling to focus but doing his best to follow Roque's instructions. He draped one arm over Roque's shoulder and hauled himself up, letting Roque's arm grip round his waist and the two of them began to make their way down the stairs keeping the weight off of Jensen's left leg as best they could. "Stay with me, Jensen, I'm going to gut you if I have to fireman carry you out of here like a fuckin' sack of grain!" Roque growled.
"With you, got it!" Jensen murmured, "'m not a p'ssy."
They made it down the stairs without any further problems and as Roque got them out through the door, Pooch was already pulling the van of the day to a halt beside them. Cougar and Clay hauled Jensen into the truck and Roque climbed up next to him. "Okay, I've radioed to the nearest base to have a medic on standby," Pooch called over his shoulder. "We okay with that or do I just need to head for the nearest hospital?"
Roque had already taken a knife to Jensen's pants and the damage was clear with his left knee looking completely distorted and the start of swelling around it. "Dislocation most likely," Clay said, then added with a sigh, "Sorry, Jensen, but the base will have to do. We can do without anyone asking questions in a normal ER."
"What about his head? Concussion?" Cougar asked.
Clay checked his eyes, prodded at the bump on his head and checked out the cuts that were bleeding. "Base," was his only response.
The journey there was quiet, once they'd got Jensen settled with no pressure on his leg, he fell silent, just the occasional groan as they hit a bump in the road that jarred his leg and the others watched him dreading what a trip to the Base Medic might reveal beyond the damage to his knee.
When Pooch screeched to a halt outside the base medical clinic, Jensen was already sitting up and accepting Clay and Roque's help out of the van, although when he tried to put weight on his leg, the pain was too much and he almost collapsed. Shifting his weight, the two men were able to lift and carry him in through the doors and set him down in a wheelchair that Cougar brought over to them hurriedly. Medical staff were already on hand and Jensen was whisked away, leaving the team to wait anxiously.
Clay paced back and forth, hoping that none of the tests they ran would turn up anything they didn't want people knowing about Jensen. He couldn't believe Jensen's bad luck, the kid didn't deserve this. Roque had taken to harassing the staff trying to get news on Jensen's condition, but clearly even the Captain's level of intimidation wasn't enough to frighten the staff here.
Pooch sat anxiously in a chair, flicking through magazines without even looking at the pictures. Clay was certain that at the end of the day he wouldn't even be able to say what sort of magazines they were.
In contrast to the rest of the team, Cougar was standing in the most shadowed corner, still enough to be almost invisible, hat tilted down to cover his eyes.
It was a long wait.
"Colonel," the doctor called as he came through the door to the waiting room, "Colonel Clay?"
"'s me," Clay acknowledged. "You done with Jensen? He gonna be alright?"
The doctor crossed the room to Clay, suggesting quietly that perhaps they should step outside, but Clay was going nowhere and so the doctor began to explain Jensen's condition. "He's had an impact injury which has caused medial collateral ligament damage. We've taken both an x-ray and an ultrasound of the area to establish the full extent of the injury. He's fortunate that while it's serious, it is not as severe as it could have been. Basically his knee was dislocated and we've been able to realign it. There is still a lot of swelling and it is going to take some time for that to fully go down. The main source of concern at this point is in establishing the level of long-term damage to the ligament. We've detected a tear, but at this time I would say it is not a complete tear. What I'm trying to say is that's good because the ligament has not severed, however it will take some time for it to heal and he's going to need to be off his feet for a while and then undergo some physical therapy before he reaches full fitness again."
"But he's going to be okay?" Clay asked.
"He'll be fine, in fact you can take him with you tonight. He'll need to be on crutches for a while and we'll give him some exercises to do and he'll need to attend some physical therapy sessions. We'll also write him a prescription for some painkillers and some anti-inflammatories to help reduce the swelling. He's going to be pretty quiet and out of it for the next twelve hours or so from what we've given him but after that he can start to take the painkillers. I'll schedule therapy sessions to start next week."
"No! No, that's okay," Clay added hastily. "We'll head back to Fort Bragg, get them to organize something for him . . . If you could just . . . erm . . . maybe stick something in writing for us to give them? Details of what the injury needs or whatever, that'd be just great."
"If you want my advice, I would be wary of moving him too far at the moment. He's going to be in pain."
"We'll take care of it, thank you, Doctor," the tone in his voice left no room for contradiction. "When can we have Jensen back?"
It took about twenty minutes to get all of the paperwork organized before Jensen could be released and shortly after that a nurse pushed Jensen out to join them in a wheelchair. He was pale and slightly groggy looking, a bruise on his forehead standing out starkly against the pallor of his skin. "Heeeeyyyy!" he greeted, then pointing he whispered loudly to the nurse, "See that, tha's ma team, ma buddiessss. Tha' one's Clay, he's moody and bossy, 's always telling me what to do." He pouted as he looked at her, "Moody and bossy! 's all the time . . . you don' know wha' it's like. I have to follo' orders all a'time." He sighed, then looked at the rest of the team. "Awwww! Look! They didn't leave me here." Turning back to the nurse again, he said, "You think they like me? Ma old team didn' like me, you think this one does?"
The nurse patted his shoulder and reassured him, "I'm sure everyone just loves you, Corporal." She looked at Clay with raised eyebrows as if to say ' well what was I suppose to say to him, he is kind of sweet after all.' "Lieutenant Colonel Clay? Um, Corporal Jensen is ready to go. The Doctor has prescribed a different set of painkillers to the ones we've given him here because although he's fine, he's . . . umm . . . a little . . ." She grimaced rather than finishing the sentence.
"Roque, buddy . . . I've missed yooouu," Jensen whined plaintively. "You gonna push my chair, man? My co-ordination is all . . . all . . . 's all skewy," he waved a hand in the air vaguely.
Roque groaned, a look of utter disgust on his face as he muttered, "You're a pain in the ass, Corporal and your co-ordination being fucked up is nothing new, that's what got us in this mess in the first place. Come here, I'm taking you over before you put this nice lady to any more trouble. Are we moving out or are you lazy bums setting up shop here?"
Cougar and Pooch pulled themselves away from the walls against which they'd been leaning, moving ahead of Roque and Jensen to get the van ready, while Clay collected the prescriptions and listened to the nurse's final instructions.
Between the three of them, they managed to maneuver Jensen into the back of the van before Clay left the building and returned the wheelchair. Pooch was sitting up front with the engine running, while Jensen sat between Roque and Cougar in the back. As Clay climbed into the front of the van, he could already hear the conversation taking place in the rear. "'s not comfortububble here. I need a pillow . . . or maybe a cushion or something. "
"Just settle down and be quiet, Jensen," Roque muttered.
"But your shoulder's no' soft." Clay looked over to see Jensen poking at Roque's shoulder sharply with his finger. "'s no' soft . . . 's no' fair."
"I tell you what is fucking soft – your head!" Roque snapped. "Now stop prodding my shoulder and sit still, that's an order."
"You're not my Dad!" Jensen retorted. "You don't get to tell me what to do. I'm not gonna do what you say," he finished with a particularly sharp poke to Roque's shoulder, which was followed quickly by a yelp as Roque took hold of his fingers and squeezed.
"Leave my shoulder the fuck alone; poke me again and I'll rip your arm off! Got it?" Jensen nodded frantically as Roque let his hand go and then edged along the seat towards Cougar. "And as for the whole orders thing, do I need to remind you about chain of command, Corporal?" Roque leaned in closer, voice low and menacing, and Jensen backed further away, almost ending up on Cougar's lap, head shaking furiously to show that he really, really didn't need Roque's reminding him of anything.
Cougar put an arm out to stop him falling as he almost lost his balance and pulled Jensen more securely on to the seat next to him. "He threatened me, Cougar," Jensen said sorrowfully.
Cougar looked at Roque over his shoulder and smirked before saying with a slight hint of sympathy distinctly mixed with humor, "I know."
"Will you save me from him? He's a monster!" Clay gave a snort of laughter from the front seat. "Will you save me, Coug?" Jensen pleaded. Jensen tilted toward Cougar and the sniper shifted allowing Jensen to rest his head against his shoulder. All was quiet for a few minutes and looking back Clay figured Jensen had fallen asleep, however a few minutes later, Jensen spoke again, "I love your shoulder, Coug, 's all soft and comfy like the best kind of pillow." He fell silent again for a while then said, "I love you, Cougar, you're always nice to me, not like Roque, he's not nice to me." Jensen sounded like a child, his voice young and naive as the drugs coursed through his system.
Clay was irritated. He couldn't have Jensen, unintentionally or otherwise, leading Cougar on, giving him the wrong impression, it wouldn't be fair. He snapped, "Sit the fuck up, Jensen and stop babbling at Cougar like that."
"'m not dribbling, I don't dribble . . ." He looked up at Cougar, sincerity clear, "Honest, I'm not dribbling on you, man!"
Clay brought a hand up to his face in despair. One of these days, Jensen was going to drive him to actually start banging his head against nearby walls. Cougar spoke, "It is the drugs, nothing more. He can rest, I do not mind."
Clay gave in, nodding at Cougar, who gently eased Jensen's head back down to his shoulder and said softly, "Sleep Jensen, it will make the journey pass more quickly."
Jensen resisted for a moment before Cougar's insistence overcame his reluctance and he muttered, "You sure?"
"Si, I am sure. Rest now." Jensen gave him a grateful smile before twisting his upper body and curling more into Cougar's space, resulting in the older man lifting his arm and wrapping it around Jensen's shoulders to hold him in place. Jensen moaned in pain as Pooch hit a couple of bumps in the road and Cougar sifted his fingers through Jensen's hair in sympathy. It didn't take long for Jensen to fall fully asleep, body slipping further into Cougar's lap until the sniper found it easier to shift him so that Jensen's head was resting against his stomach.
The van was quiet with Jensen asleep except for the occasional snuffle or whimper from the sleeping man. The rest of the team were lost in their own thoughts as the van ate up the miles between the mission and 'home'. They were all roused from their musings when Jensen suddenly jerked awake with a pained cry. Cougar attempted to soothe him back to sleep, but to no avail and as he gently ran his fingers through Jensen's hair, he became aware of Jensen's rising temperature and immediately alerted Clay.
"Fuck!" Clay looked irritated, but the others could tell it was a mask for his concern, "How long, Pooch? I don't want to have to take him to strangers."
"Boss, it's another five hours at least and . . . and if we're going to keep going then someone else is going to need to take over or I'm gonna run us off the road, man," Pooch answered, "And seriously, if we head back now, they're going to take him in and how the hell are we supposed to get him out in time to change?"
"Okay, I know that . . . Shit, Jensen, you're going to be the fuckin' death of me, I don't think my heart is up to this level of stress," he grumbled. "Right, we're out of options. We need to find somewhere isolated and set up camp, we'll have to try and get his temperature down and hope he gets over it by himself."
"The farmstead we were going to go to for this month's change is closer," Pooch said quietly. "It's maybe fifty minutes out but we'd need to turn around right now to get there."
Clay shared a look with Roque before saying to Pooch, "Do it."
Spanish to English Translations
(1) I promise.
