Title: "Home Run" Zou's Edition - Chapter 7

Original story by: roomtable202

Edited by: Zou

Fandom: The Unit

Disclaimer: This is intended as a fan fiction, on characters owned by their original creators and I am not making a profit out of it.

Note: It was very exciting when Zou offered to review and edit the "Home Run" story. When I received the first chapters reviewed I've found Zou's editing so compelling that I thought it deserved a place of its own. I hope you all enjoy this terrific version of the original story as much as I do and let Zou know.


Grey had to leave their camp before he lost control again and shamed himself even more. He could not believe what he had just done to Brown. The man was injured and weak, totally dependent on him, and Grey had lost it and pulled a knife. He wouldn't have done that to a stranger; yet he did it to one of his brothers in arms.

Grey thought he knew himself pretty well; that insight didn't do him any good when his darker impulses took over. He supposed he was more tired and in more pain than he would admit. Adding that to his doubts and anger about Brown, at the whole damn situation, and he was losing his center: losing control. Proof of that had been seeing Brown at the end of his knife blade.

Grey knew that he had no problem stepping out of line every now and then. He wasn't afraid to change course depending on the situation at hand; willing to take the flak for it later. But what he had done a moment ago, that went way beyond going a different direction, being a bit of a rebel. It was everything he hated about himself in shining neon for the entire world to see. When he got like this, felt himself slipping, that was when he relied on the restraint that Jonas or Mack would impose on him; restraint he could not impose on himself. Grey knew he had stepped over the line, he had damn well obliterated it, and whether Brown had lied to him or not, either he was under orders or not, it didn't matter because the problem wasn't Brown, maybe it never had been, the problem was him.

Moving quickly as if speed alone would banish the demons, Grey moved south, away from the camp; his black curly hair streamed away from his face as he walked into the breeze, his head up, chin jutting, eyes burring from the wind, or so that's what he tried to convince himself. "Some fresh air and a fresh perspective. That's what you need man." Grey said aloud as he searched the area for food and a change in his mood.

However, the further he went into the dense trees, the more he began to doubt his own judgment in putting so much distance between him and Brown. He was going in the opposite direction of where he knew he needed to be: near his injured teammate. While Brown was doing better his condition was precarious; Grey knew he had no business being out of earshot of the man. Nevertheless he kept moving forward and with each step Grey became more angry and disgusted with himself. Whether Brown had committed all the sins that Grey accused him of or not, he was still a brother; he didn't deserve to be abandoned.

Just as he was thinking of turning back, cursing himself for his stupidity, for wandering so far from camp, he suddenly found himself out of the trees in a clearing atop a hill. And at the bottom of the gentle descent in front of him was lay an Edenesque pool of glittering water.

All previous thoughts left Grey's mind and without thinking he hiked the few hundred yards to the small lake. He reached down and absently trailed his hand in the crystal clear cold water: the perfection of the scene overwhelming his senses. Needed to cleanse his soul as much as his body just then, Grey straightened up and undressed, dropping his clothes at the water's edge; plunged in, reveling in the freezing coldness that engulfed him.

Despite his self-flagellation over leaving Brown alone, Grey remained in the water for nearly half an hour, his strokes strong and sure as he traversed the lake; losing himself in the physical exertion until he felt soreness building in his muscles. At last, comfortably tired and washed free of the earlier stench of his own failure, he floated on his back starring up at the sky. "Steel blue... like deep water... cold water." He grinned wryly at an old memory of the only real vacation he ever had: the perfection of freediving.

Grey lazily crawled through the water back to where he had discarded his clothing and rose from its liquid embrace. Gathering his belonging he carried them a short way up the embankment to a grassy area and fell onto the lush ground. He lay there for drinking in the calm, admiring the scenery, the lake, the internal quiet. "Born part sea-mammal", he muttered to the clouds, thinking that it had to be true: water had always calmed him; always been a panacea for the wounds that the world had inflicted. "I need to see the ocean again; maybe spend some time learning about what's under the surface." Grey said; not sure if he meant the surface of the ocean or of himself.

Freediving was simple. A freediver relies on a single breath of air to explore the undersea world. Moving gracefully without wasting energy, a freediver can spend minutes underwater; experiencing the ocean as any other marine mammal does: become part of the environment, not just an observer of it. The key to freediving was being able to relax underwater, enjoy the inner exploration of sensations and personal limits. Charles Grey loved freediving because it made him feel part of a different world where he was new born again, independent and free... nothing to regret, not a care in the world.

A breeze blew up just then and chilled Grey's still damp skin bringing him out of his reverie. He quickly stood, shook his hair dry, toweled off with his shirt, and pulled on his clothes. With one last look at the lake he turned and sprinted up the slope away from the little piece of paradise he had found and towards the problems that he had left behind in camp.

In that hour before dusk, the forest quieted and the mountain that rose above the river grew from a myriad of greens to a blue-black blur. Except for the area around the lake and along the riverbed the land seemed endlessly forested. As he followed the river toward their improvised camp, the sky darkened: a change of weather. No sooner had he rejoined Brown that he sensed another change in the atmosphere as well, this one coming from his teammate. Brown was awake and followed Grey's movements with eyes both wary and weary, but didn't say a word. Even from a distance Grey could see that the man was tense. The past three hours of pain and solitude had taken their toll on Brown; God knows what additional damage had been done to their relationship while Grey had been floating and day-dreaming.

Grey approached Bob carefully, not sure of the reception he would receive; not sure of the reception he deserved. "How are you holding up, Bob?"

"I want to get out of here." Bob replied, his voice emotionless.

"In time. We'll sort it out a little bit later, when we have cooked and eaten what I brought" Grey said, holding up a rabbit that he had collected from one of the traps he had set earlier. "We'll both think better with a full belly. You'll start feeling better. I've found some valerian plants around. I'll make an infusion to ease the pain and to help you relax."

"Fine" Bob said dully. "I hate being like this." he added as an afterthought.

"I know, but, you are gonna pull through with your legs and arms intact, well mostly. You should be glad for that. It could have been a lot worse and you know it. You're doing well. I've saw a lot of trauma injuries as a medic, and I'm being straight with you, you're doing fine. You just need to be patient a couple more days for things to change for the better. You're already on your way there. You'll see. It might even give the team time to come and extract us themselves." Grey said, trying hard to undo some of the damage that he had caused earlier.

"And if nobody comes?" Bob asked.

"We'll, we're Special Forces and we'll just rescue ourselves then won't we? We'll follow the river 'til we find a location where the GPS picks up the satellite. Then we can use it either as a beacon to bring them to us or a guide to get out. I have an idea that will allow us to move quickly out of here. We just need to see your stitches are gonna hold up and figure out a way to bandage your leg to make it as water tight as possible. So, all you have to do is focus on being a good patient and making a quick recovery." Bob listened, but didn't say a word so Charles rolled up his sleeves to start skinning the rabbit, figuring at this point that so long as they weren't arguing that was an improvement.

It was then that Bob fixed his eyes on the black and blue marks that were visible on Grey's arms: no questions of their origin as the outline of finger marks were clearly defined. Seeing those marks a sudden memory flashed in Brown's mind of that first day when he had a death grip on Carlito's arms as he struggled to manage the panic and the pain that had been overwhelming him. There was the physical proof of just how weak he had been, how helpless. And while he was better than he had been, had a better handle on the pain, they reminded him that still, even now, he was basically helpless and completely reliant on Grey.

Suddenly Brown realized that during the past three days it was not only his wounds that had been treated and attended to. Grey had obviously tended to his more intimate and private needs as well. Bob knew that had to be the case, they had all been trained to provide battlefield and supportive care for comrades while awaiting evac, but he'd never been on the receiving end of that care. He knew he shouldn't feel ashamed or embarrassed by it, it was all natural and any shyness a guy might have is erased by the training and enforced closeness of their jobs. But as Carlito had said earlier, Bob was all about control and perfection, he didn't like weakness or the appearance of weakness, at least not in himself, and that was the ultimate in weakness. Yet Grey had said nothing; hadn't even tried to make a joke out of it. Despite his protestations earlier about not understanding Bob, on some level Grey did; he had known that for Bob the helplessness and the weakness were not something to be made light of. Seeing those bruises and knowing the care that Carlito had provided gave Bob some small hope that maybe, just maybe, they had a chance as finding a way to trust each other.

Brown strived to be seen as an open and sympathetic person, he learned early on that it served him well, even if it was at times a façade. But when it came to his mates, he was more interested in being seen as competent and motivated, always striving to be the best, always working to prove himself, always competing, often times only with himself and his own demons. He was used to people harboring suspicions or being envious, that just naturally came with success and getting the things that other people wanted or thought they deserved. And despite appearances, his successes hadn't come easy, but once he set his sights on a goal he did everything in his power to achieve it. Some people only saw the results, the achievements, and never saw the work, the pain, the sacrifice that went into getting there. Bob didn't care whether other's thought he hadn't earned his place, his position; he didn't do it for them, he did it for himself, for his family; or at least he had until he joined the Unit. Now he also did it for his brothers.

Yet, despite all his hard work and commitment Grey still doubted him: doubted his motivation, doubted his loyalty; even doubted his credentials and right to be in the Unit. And without knowing it, Grey was denigrating all the years of sacrifice that both Bob and Kim had gone through. Bob's success was a direct result of their commitment to each other and to reaching their goals, his goals . . . together. Kim might not be in the army, but she had as much to do with Bob being where he was as he had. She had been his rock and his world when he had no one else. She had fought the battles with him; some dearly won and at a high price.

And just as he needed Kim to always believe in him Bob realized that he needed Grey to believe in him as well; needed all of Alpha Team to believe. He needed Grey to have confidence that Bob considered his teammates to be his brothers, a different kind of family, and that he would sacrifice everything for them. He needed Grey to have faith in that; to trust in that.