We've Got Your Back

Virginia – Hospital

Lashes fluttered up to muted sounds and unfocused blue eyes stared upward. Besides the soft, intermittent beeping, the room remained quiet. Drifting in a semi-conscious state, warm and comfortable, Clay fought against waking fully. Though a movement to his left caused him to turn his head and his eyes focused on a person sitting in the chair, reading a book.

Before speaking and alerting her, Clay scanned the hospital room and didn't understand why he appeared to be in the children's ward. His room was decorated in the theme of the Wizard of Oz—strange. Returning his gaze to his visitor, Clay said, "Lisa?"

Lowering her novel, the latest in the Beauty of Life series, Lisa's eyes widened as a smile bloomed. She put Breakpoints down, rose, and moved to the bed. "You're awake. Who am I again?"

"Lisa." Clay scrunched his eyes. "Why did you ask?"

She let out a slight giggle. "Well, the last few times I was here, you called me Glinda the Good Witch."

"Huh?"

Lisa's hand swept around the room. "You can thank Sonny for the Oz decorations. You've been a little out of it. Concussion and all."

"Out of it? Concussion?"

"Yeah, grade three concussion. You've been hopped up on heavy-duty painkillers, which apparently sent you to Oz." Lisa leaned forward and whispered, "No one is mad at you, but Vic's sporting one heck of a black eye and bruised cheek. When the whole team was here three days ago, you called him the Vicked Vitch of the Vest as he tried to sign your cast after Sonny. You whacked Vic upside the head so hard the doc thought he might need to reset your fractures. Thankfully, the x-ray showed you didn't do more damage."

Clay blinked. "Cast?" Lisa pointed to his right arm which was encased in padding and red fiberglass from the second joint of his fingers to mid-bicep as she repeated what they told Clay each time he woke because he didn't recall his injuries. "An oblique displaced fracture of your radius and a transverse break of your ulna. They had to do surgery for the radius, but the doctor said it will heal as good as new. You also underwent surgery to repair torn rotator tendons, which is why your left arm is in a sling. You have a puncture wound on your left side on the back, if you're wondering why it hurts. Didn't do any major damage, mostly bleed a lot and caused an infection that is now under control."

She halted while he processed the info and hoped this time, he would retain it, since he called her by her correct name—a positive sign.

After staring at the writing on his cast, noting Sonny's scrawl, Clay met Lisa's eyes. "Who is Vic?"

"Um, your teammate, Vic Lopez."

"I hit a teammate? Did they pick someone else since I'm laid up? Is Jason okay? I tried to get to him before the Bojinka clacked off the S-vest."

Worried, Lisa clicked the call button. "I think we need to talk to your doctor before I say anything more."

In a confused state, when Lisa refused to tell him anything more or answer his questions, Clay quieted and waited fifteen minutes before the doctor arrived.

"Hello, Mr. Spenser, I'm Dr. Holdings. Do you remember us speaking before?"

Clay shook his head.

"Understandable. You've been on a high dose of narcotics and suffered a concussion. Can you tell me the last thing you do recall?"

"Um, I was clearing a room and Cerb sat at the door. He only sits if there are explosives. Jason was about to open another door … and I lunged at him because well, with Cerb sitting I assume there was a bomb." Clay shifted his gaze to Davis and his tone held a note of pleading, "Lisa, please tell me, is Jason okay?"

Lisa laid a gentle hand on Clay's right shoulder. "Yes. You saved him. He is hale and hearty." She peered at Holdings. "What he described is accurate, it occurred months ago."

"What?" Clay's eyes widened. Months? How can it be months? How long have I been out? Wait, my arm wouldn't be casted or in a sling if that happened that long ago. Clay's musing stopped as Holdings responded.

Holdings nodded. "Common symptoms after a concussive TBI are headache, loss of memory, and confusion. The amnesia usually involves forgetting the event that caused the concussion, but it can extend further into the past."

Amnesia? Clay's gaze bounced between Lisa and the doctor as they spoke.

"Will his memory return?"

"Quite possible, but no way to know for sure. The brain is a complex system. However, it is a positive step forward that he recalled your real name."

Clay interrupted, "How long have I been here?"

"Eight days," Holdings supplied.

Turning to Lisa, Clay inquired, "Can you tell me how I got injured?"

Lisa started to answer, but Holdings cut her off.

"Better if we let nature run its course for the moment. If things don't start coming back after a week or so, then your friends can start filling in the blanks for you." The doctor's pager beeped and Holdings added, "Sorry, I must answer this. I'll check back on you later."

Once they were alone, Lisa asked, "Are you up for visitors? If so, I'll text Jason."

Wanting to verify Jason was indeed alright, Clay nodded. "Yeah." He closed his eyes as his mind began to swirl, struggling to pull out any recent memory. If the Bojinka op was months ago, what the hell happened? Who the hell is Vic and why would I hit him?

Bravo Cage

Jason read Lisa's text and he kicked the cage.

"What's Emma done now … date another loser? You need me to make a trip up to New York to put the fear of God into a young man?" Sonny teased. Jason had a call from Emma four days ago and although she was alright, she complained about stupid college boys and their lack of manners.

Vic chuckled at Sonny's comment but winced as his swollen cheek moved. Thoroughly pissed at Spenser for striking him, he would've made a big stink about it, but it was in his best interest to let it drop and pretend to be as concerned as the others for Clay's state of mind. When the incident happened, Clay was clearly in another world, Oz according to Sonny, and guys were more concerned about Clay reinjuring his broken arm, than the black eye he caused.

Jason quelled his anger and turned to face the guys. "Not Emma. Lisa."

That got everyone's attention.

"Dorthy okay?" Sonny asked, all humor evaporating, but using his latest nickname for the kid.

"Yes and no."

"What's wrong?" Ray stepped out of his cage.

"He woke aware, coherent, and in this world today. Called Lisa by her real name."

Vic cringed. He dreaded this day. He planned, and his ducks were in a row, but he still would prefer not to have to deal with Clay's version of events.

"And?" Trent prompted, knowing that wouldn't be the cause for Jason's concerned expression.

"He thinks it is months ago. His last memory is saving me from the S-vest in Belgrade. Actually, he asked if I was alright because all he recalled was Cerb sitting and jumping at me."

"Damn! The kid can't ever catch a break," Metal growled.

No one noticed the smile that briefly showed on Vic's face before he returned to a stoic façade, choosing no emotion over exhibiting false concern—easier to maintain.

"I'm going to visit him, bring him up to speed," Sonny stated as he reached for his backpack. "We're done for today, right?"

"Yes, and yes, we can visit, but the doc said not to tell him anything for at least a week. He wants to see if Clay's memories return on their own."

Sonny nodded, and headed for the door, "Copy. Meet ya there."

When the room cleared, leaving only him and Jason, Ray closed his cage and stood at the entrance of his best friend's locker. "Jace, we need to talk."

"I know."

"When?"

"Later."

"How much later?" Ray pushed for an answer after Jason had avoided all his previous attempts since they returned from Serbia eight days ago.

"When I'm ready." Jason halted shoving his dirty uniform into his pack and turned to face Ray. "I'm aware things don't add up, but until we listen what Clay has to say, we got nothin' to go on. And now, it appears we might never know exactly what happened. That's what's pissing me off. I want to know the truth, and if the kid can't remember … my hands are tied."

Ray nodded. "So, continue to keep a covert eye on Lopez?"

"Yeah." Jason picked up his bag and strode out, slamming his cage. He hated spying on a brother, but as he told Ray, things didn't add up. Though Clay had a temper on occasion, and he wasn't shy about staking his ground, he would never blame someone for a broken bone if said person saved his ass from an RPG. Clay would thank him—though thank yous weren't technically needed between brothers—they all protected one another when the shit hit the fan. Or so, everyone he worked with in the past—Beau Fuller included.

The more he ruminated on why Clay took a dislike to Vic, the more Jason's gut told him the kid must've recognized something they didn't. Even in an altered state, Clay protected himself when Vic got too close, and apparently his mind assigned Vic the role of the Wicked Witch of the West in his warped world of Oz, but Clay changed all the W's to V's—which honestly made them all laugh.

But on a serious note, Jason understood Clay had a lot of experience with two-faced people. Ash Spenser provided Clay an early education on what it was like to be screwed over with a smile and false words. For now, though impatient to discover the truth, Jason must bide his time. He needed solid proof before taking action, but if Vic did lie, there would be severe consequences for breaking rule number one. Trust once broken rarely repaired—and Jason wouldn't risk his brothers' lives with an untrustworthy teammate.

Ray sighed and took out his phone to text Naima to inform her would be swinging by the hospital before coming home, so he'd be late for dinner. She would understand. The past week had been difficult on the entire team—him especially. Ray worried he was the one responsible for bringing a viper into Bravo's house.

The smirk he witnessed in the building in Serbia weighed heavily on his mind. He wondered if he got a glimpse of the real Vic—a cold-blooded serpent who would betray the brotherhood. And he wholeheartedly agreed with Jason's and Metal's opinions that something didn't seem kosher with Vic's explanation—almost as if Vic wanted to paint himself the hero at Clay's expense.

One question he constantly went back to and couldn't answer is, why? What did Vic have to gain? He was already a member of Bravo, and they believed he would make an excellent number two for Clay in the future with the right mentoring—something Ray intended to provide for Vic as Jason did for Clay.

Ray's gaze landed on Clay's cage and the bag they deposited there containing Clay's gear. A proverbial light started to glow and gain strength as a possible answer came to him. Vic wants more than to be 2IC … he wants to lead Bravo and Clay is his competition.

But his mind went back to Serbia and the hole in the ceiling. Clay's situational awareness was better than most, equal to Jason's, so him falling of his own accord didn't seem right. Something else must've happened. Either Clay was distracted, which tracked with Vic's account of Clay yelling at him, or Clay was pushed. The mere thought that Vic would intentionally harm Clay made his stomach turn, and he wanted desperately to deny that course of events.

Pushing those thoughts to the back of his mind, Ray hurried out and headed down the hall, eager to talk to Clay. Perhaps them being with him might spark his memory. He halted as he met Metal in the hall. "Thought you left already."

"I did, but I just remembered something I need to take care of. I'll be there later."

"Okay."

Scott entered Bravo's equipment room and went directly to Clay's cage. He opened the door and picked up the bag with Clay's gear from the last op. As he set it on the table in the middle of the room, he couldn't believe he forgot all about his intentions the night he picked up the piece Trent pulled from Clay's back. God that had been torturous for the kid and ever since things had been a bit of a shitshow, so he forgave himself for not remembering until now.

As he unzipped the black bag, Scott's mind wandered back to the overwatch building. The storm didn't break until mid-morning, which meant they had to stay in the dilapidated building until night descended again. Thankfully, the rescue helo came to their location, so they didn't need to chance lowering Clay with makeshift ropes or jostle him around as they hoofed it to an exfil position. Lisa went back to her logistics roots and ensured the helo brought necessary medical supplies, including a Stokes basket to safely lift Clay to the helo.

During the long, cold day, Clay moved in and out of consciousness, never truly aware, off in some bizarre version of Oz with his ruby boots and Jason as the wizard. The kid talked to Cerb too when he roused a few times, which made Brock smile. Clay and the pup had a strong connection and it was a relief to know wherever Clay's mind was at, he had a steadfast four-legged friend by his side.

Unfortunately, by mid-afternoon, Clay was burning up with fever, so Trent cut off the remainder of the kid's shirt so they could swab Clay's skin to cool him. That's when they discovered the bruising of Clay's left shoulder. The black and purple coloring with a tinge of green told them it didn't occur as a result of falling down the stairs—it was definitely several days old, and the cause pointed to when Vic pushed Clay into the doorjamb.

Vic claimed he didn't push that hard, but Metal recalled Clay wincing when he stood, even though he regrettably laughed at Sonny's jokes about Clay not paying attention. Metal felt like a heel—they were the ones not being attentive. None of them listened to Clay and so easily attributed his complaints about Vic to Clay feeling displaced by a new guy or his desire to find fault with Lopez solely because he was not Yoder—the guy Clay wanted.

Growling, Metal shelved those unproductive thoughts and reached for the shard. He examined the triangular piece coated with Clay's dried blood before setting it on the table. He pulled out Clay's vest, hoping an examination of the back would prove his suspicion.

"Fucking liar!" Metal spat out as his eyes located fragments of the same material deeply embedded in the protective vest. "No way was Clay in front of Vic when the RPG exploded." Metal needed verification and realized he would be later than expected to the hospital, but this took precedence. He put both the vest and shard into the bag, zipped it, and headed out for Blackburn's office.

Hospital

"Hey, Dorthy, I hear you decided to return from Oz. Welcome home." Sonny sauntered into the room carrying a paper sack, not one for bothering to wrap presents—a waste of time and paper in his mind.

Clay chuckled. Sonny never failed to brighten his mood. He often wondered if he should spell Sonny's name with a U instead of O. "Hi. What do you have? I hope some decent food, cause I gotta say, the food here sucks." So did having the nurse's aide feed him since he couldn't use either arm, but he didn't go there. Thankfully, Lisa had to leave before they brought his dinner.

"Nah, sorry, but if they'll let me, I'll order ya a pizza or send Dog Man out to grab you a burger when he arrives." Sonny set the sack on the rolling table. Though he longed to apologize to Clay for being such an ass, since the kid didn't remember, for now, he would behave as if they were all good.

"So, what's in there?" Clay asked.

"Why don't you take a look?" Sonny headed for one of the chairs but halted when Clay spoke.

"Don't be an ass. Open it."

An embarrassed expression crossed Sonny's face for a moment when he realized the kid couldn't open the gift with one arm in a sling and the other casted with little use except for the tips of his fingers. Covering his dumb-ass lapse, Sonny grinned and said, "Just wanted to keep you in suspense a bit longer."

Returning to the bag, Sonny unrolled the top, reached in, and produced a pair of ruby-red slipper boots. "Thought you might like these if you wander off to Oz again … or when walking the hospital halls."

Clay groaned. Sonny laughed. Their brotherly bond, one forged in battle and strengthened with friendship and humor, would endure all their petty squabbles and missteps.

Though the doctor didn't want anyone to tell him anything, Clay hoped he might be able to crack Sonny. "So, Lisa said there's a new guy on the team and I hit him. Did I do any real damage?"

Sonny tensed. "No." He changed the subject, "How about we see if there's a game on?"

"Not interested. Tell me about Vic. I don't recall anyone named Lopez. Did he transfer from another team like Metal? Is he any good?"

As Trent entered with Brock, both overhearing the question, he answered before Sonny could spill any details, "Sorry, no can do. Doctor's orders. You need to give your head time to heal. How's your pain level?"

Vic arrived at the same time as Trent and Brock, but he stood at the threshold as Trent conversed with Clay. He didn't want to be here, but he must maintain his team player façade, and it would be odd if he didn't show up. Glancing around he didn't see Metal and wondered where the intense man was since he left the cages at the same time as them.

After greeting Brock, and everyone chuckling over Sonny's gag gift, Clay noticed an unknown person standing in the doorway. He put two and two together when he spotted the black and purple bruising around the man's eye and along his cheek.

"You must be Vic. Sorry, I don't' remember you. And wow, that looks painful. Sorry for hitting you."

Jason's hand clapped onto Vic's shoulder, pushing him into the room so he could enter too as he smiled at the young man sitting in the bed who his heart claimed as a son. "You don't need to apologize to Vic. He's fine. And you didn't do it on purpose." Jason wanted to add but didn't, Lopez doesn't deserve an apology—he might be the reason you are injured.

Vic seethed at Jason's comment but held a smile as he said, "No harm, no foul. Accidents happen."

Brock's gut roiled. Vic's aw-shucks veneer wore thin. He couldn't believe he'd ever believed it in the first place, especially when Cerb went out of his way to avoid Vic. Hell, he even recalled Cerb trying to lift a leg on Vic right after the doorjamb incident. Cerberus was an excellent judge of character and took straight away to Clay when he joined. He should've paid more attention to Cerb's aversion because his behavior mirrored Clay's attitude. He hoped Clay would regain his memory soon and they would learn the real sequence of events in that damned building.

Joining the banter, Brock said, "When they release you, I'll bring Cerb over. Tried to sneak him in, but the nurses on this floor caught me and wouldn't buy my story that he's a therapy dog."

Clay grinned. "Thanks for trying." His smile faded as his gaze dropped to his useless arms. "Not gonna be let out anytime soon, I guess. Can't even feed myself."

Trent shook his head. "Talked to Doc Irving a couple of days ago. He said once you were coherent, you can come stay with me. Dawn's stocked up supplies for smoothies, and we got the beer helmet all set for you, so no arms needed to drink."

Sonny interjected, "I plan to stay too, just like after we got you back from Turkmenistan. We got us a routine."

Recalling being kidnapped by Tabasi in Switzerland and taken to Turkmenistan to be tortured for the death of Tabasi's sons, Clay nodded. He'd been dependent on his brothers in the early days of his recovery, and they treated him with dignity and earned his undying trust. Though it would still be embarrassing needing their help for some basic needs, he would prefer staying with Trent to remaining in the hospital.

Flashing a smile, Clay said, "Well, the food's a lot better—Dawn's a fantastic cook. Thanks, guys. Can we go tonight?"

It did Ray's heart good to hear Clay eager to leave and see him smiling, but he said, "Sorry, Kid, not tonight. Tomorrow afternoon at the soonest, since Lindell is requiring us to give a demonstration to some politicos in the morning."

Vic's grin became real as he thought about the opportunity he would have to shine in front of Lindell and some upper brass. Clay wouldn't be there to make a muck of things, and he would be in the spotlight, thus furthering his ambitions.

"Well, one more day here isn't so bad," Clay sighed as he gazed at the slippers. He chuckled. "Though perhaps if I put my ruby boots on and clicked my heels I could get home sooner."

Everyone except Vic laughed.

Trent's heart embraced the kid, warmed by the fact Clay thought of his place as home too. Yeah, he needed to make amends for not being more observant, and taking care of him would be his path forward to possible redemption.

The extensive bruising, they found on Clay's shoulder in Serbia made him feel like crap. If only he had checked Clay after he saved Vic from going over the cliff, the course of the op might've changed because they all would've realized Vic had rammed Clay into the door in practice. And if they had known, Jason sure as hell wouldn't have paired Clay with Vic. Ray would've been sent as their overwatch sniper with Vic. Jace would've kept Clay closer to him or sent him with Sonny to ensure the shoulder didn't put the kid at risk.

Hell, none of them could even be mad at Clay for keeping quiet about the injury, 'cause quite frankly, they understood why he didn't say anything. They had all ignored his warnings about Vic—and their ignorance almost cost the kid's life. Nothing for any of them to be proud of.

Although he didn't like Clay having amnesia, perhaps there was a silver lining. His true brothers would have an opportunity to make amends and if Clay did recall things, perhaps he would be inclined to forgive them for their utter stupidity in discounting his concerns regarding the new guy.

The team bantered and BS'd until Clay's eyelids began to droop. Trent ensured Clay got a dose of pain meds before he left with everyone except Jason. Their leader had not spent a single night in his own bed since returning, preferring to sleep in the recliner in Clay's room.

About thirty minutes later, when Clay lifted his lashes, not realizing they drifted shut, he found his room quiet and Jason sitting in the chair with a blanket draped over his chest and his feet up. Clay sighed and closed his eyes with a sense of comfort. The man who became like a father to him was on guard and his family would help him recover as they had each time in the past—he was never alone, even if they had to spin up. If his memories didn't come back, it didn't matter—he had what mattered most … family.

Bravo Team Room

Blackburn tore his gaze off the wall clock which read 23:38 as the door opened, admitting Davis and Ellis. "Thank you for coming in so late. Please take a seat."

Lisa moved for a chair as her gaze shifted to Full Metal, whose scowl would scare most children.

Mandy took a seat as she asked, "Is there a critical op?"

Eric met Metal's eyes before going to Mandy's. "No. What I'm about to disclose must not be communicated to any of Bravo for the time being. The boys are doing a live-fire demo tomorrow and I don't want them distracted by this ugly business until we have solid proof."

"Might just have me an accident tomorrow," Metal growled, causing Blackburn to give him a stern glare.

"Which is why you won't be participating. Do I have your word, nothing I share goes to any member of Bravo until we gather evidence to support Metal's theory?"

"More than a theory." Given another glare, Metal huffed. "Alright, I'll keep my thoughts to myself for now."

"I agree," Lisa said, wondering what lay under cloth near Blackburn.

"Secrets are second nature to me, so yes, you have my word," Mandy stated.

Eric inhaled as he lifted the fabric, revealing two tactical vests. "Metal brought these to me earlier tonight." He lifted the three-inch triangle. "And this too. Trent removed this from Clay's back." Lifting one vest so Lisa and Mandy could view, he said, "You will notice the multitude of embedded material in Clay's vest. We had someone from the lab do a composite test, and the material is identical.

"The pieces had to be moving at a high velocity to become embedded in both. A twelve-foot fall is not sufficient to drive this piece," Eric moved his hand with the part that had punctured Clay, "into the kid's back. There is no such material in Vic's vest. Therefore, Metal believes Clay was behind Vic when the RPG exploded not in front. And if Vic lied—"

Lisa cut in, her fists clenching, "Then he could've lied about the rest. He might've tried to kill Clay and is covering it up." Anger surged. "Why didn't the guys believe Clay when he brought up concerns over Vic?"

"I don't have an answer for why, but it is a jump to conclude he attempted to kill Spenser. More likely something else happened and he sought to pad his resume with his version," Mandy chimed in.

Surging to his feet, Metal shouted, "Pad his resume? The bastard fucking lied. He is scum, and I won't believe another word out of that bastard's mouth. I got a shovel and some lye in my truck, and I'm ready to use it."

"Metal, sit down," Eric said in an exacerbated tone, though a part of him wished to participate in hiding a body if they could prove Lopez deliberately hurt Clay. "We need proof, and I figured who better to find something than the two best investigators I've ever worked with." Eric's eyes moved from Mandy to Lisa. "Are you willing to help?"

"Absolutely!" Lisa stood to take a closer look at Clay's protective vest.

Mandy nodded, her mind already noodling on something that bothered her about the op. She rose, and said, "I'm in. I may not be in touch for a few days. There's something I need to check, but I don't want to say anything until it proves out."

"Thanks. I knew I could count on you." His eyes turned to Metal. "So Jason doesn't start twenty questions, I'm loaning you out to Green Team for the next few days since three instructors are out with the flu. It will give you ample time to make some discrete, and I mean discrete inquiries into Lopez's past. Feed anything you find to Lisa for her to validate."

Metal grumbled under his breath but nodded.

"As I said, this is ugly, and I want due diligence done so Lindell can't reject what we discover. He's had it out for Jason, and Bravo in general, and if we have a bad seed, we need to prove it to weed him out."

.

Bet you didn't see that twist coming. Evil muse laughing.