Author's Note: Ohhhhh, geez. I know this is a WHOLE day late, and I am sorry. I had something written down for this prompt, then when I returned to it, I didn't like it. So I started writing a new one. Then I tweaked part of it and scrapped the rest. Then it kept twisting and turning out of my hands. Anyhooo, I am sorry it is late. This prompt was tough because, I mean, a lot of my stories could be put under this prompt. So I went with a little bit of a different take and went with both physical and emotional support? I still don't know how I feel about this, but hey, I hope you like it anyway! Happy reading!

7. I've Got You (Support | Carrying | Enemy to Caretaker)

It was poorly lit. Eerie. The steady drip of lingering rainwater echoed across concrete walls.

Sometimes, this job took them to scary places.

And it was always worse to be alone.

Adam pursed his lips.

But the underground path had split into three separate hallways, and they were pursuing a dangerous spy. They had to split up to save time.

And with five on the team and three paths? Somebody had to go it alone.

Truly, Adam didn't mind.

Of course, by the looks on their faces, his team did mind. But thankfully, there wasn't room for them to protest. There wasn't a minute to spare for an argument, and silence was key.

So here he walked alone, on high alert through leaky, concrete hallways. Clearly no one had been down here in ages. He stopped, his ears picking up some unusual noises.

There was a shuffle.

Behind him.

He quickly turned his heel to investigate, his rifle raised.

But there was nothing. Just puddles and pipes.

He relaxed a touch but didn't drop his rifle, twisting his foot a little to turn back around. Maybe it was a mouse? He started to turn.

Then a hand clamped around his mouth.

Before he could react, the small bite of a needle dug into his neck.

Panicking, he bucked and fought. But it was too late. The pinching pinprick was gone, and he instantly felt strange. Lethargic. Weak.

His legs were shaking, and his body wouldn't obey.

Something sharp and unrelenting spiked through his lower back, on his right. But he only had enough strength for a weak cry, and his body wouldn't cooperate enough to fight back. The object jerked out, but the piercing pain remained. The hands left him, and he thought he could hear quick, rapid footsteps running away.

He was alone again.

The rest of his strength dwindled rapidly, and he crumpled to the ground, landing sloppily onto puddle-glossed concrete. This all felt . . . wrong. Off. He was suddenly so dizzy and out of it.

Adam fought to keep his eyes open.

But it was no use.

And he faded into darkness.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Jaz and Preach had quickly reached a dead end on their route. They were secretly relieved—it meant they could back up Adam on his.

It was bad enough that he'd gone alone. But it was worse that down here, they'd lost contact with Command. It was clear this basement was used only for utility reasons, and it sunk far beneath the main floor of the building. So of course, they couldn't get a signal through these concrete walls.

At least they could still communicate with each other.

Preach was just about to report that they'd turned around and were on their way to Adam when they heard it. A small, strangled cry on the line. One that sounded suspiciously like Adam.

"Top?" Jaz prodded, she and Preach already picking up speed in their already quick jog.

Nothing answered, and their concern doubled.

Then there was the suspicious sound of bodily collapse over the comm.

"Top? What's going on, man," McG demanded breathlessly.

He shouldn't have been alone. Damn it, they shouldn't have let him go it alone.

Preach and Jaz were back at the same fork where they'd all separated, immediately running past it to sprint down Adam's corridor.

At the first corner, they completely ran into the spy they were pursuing.

Preach was quick and pushed the man forcefully to the ground. Jaz didn't hesitate to pull her pistol.

She fired two shots directly into the spy's skull.

He was dead in an instant.

She and Preach stood silently for a moment, staring down at the man as red bled into the shallow puddle under his head. Their eyes locked on to the bloody knife still in his hand.

"We got him," Preach reported lowly. Calmly. "Target's eliminated." He looked up at the rest of the corridor. "We're on our way to Top."

He stepped over the spy, continuing onward with a narrow focus as his mind lingered on the bloody knife. Jaz was close behind, holstering her weapon as she anxiously trotted down the corridor. There was another corner ahead, and both wondered what they'd find around the bend.

As they turned the corner, they saw the long stretch of the corridor.

And Adam lying still at the center of it.

Jaz's breath caught in her throat, and she and Preach were running with everything they had, practically skidding to a stop at their CO's side.

"Got a knife wound," Preach huffed.

Jaz looked up.

Blood was staining Adam's back, soaking into his shirt. Preach hastily tore off his scarf, pressing it against the wound.

There was a slight grunt.

Startled, Jaz looked down, surprised to find the slightest lines of pain on Adam's face. "Top?" She rested a hand on his cheek, hoping to coax him back to awareness. But he couldn't seem to find his way back into the light, as if weighed down by some unseen burden.

Then she saw a familiar freckle on his neck.

The mark of a needle.

"Preach, there's a needle mark here."

The larger man looked over, eyes lingering on that small, red freckle. "McG, you may want to check the body for a syringe," Preach instructed, expression dark.

"What?"

"Looks like Adam's been injected with something. But we don't know what."

With her hand still on Adam's cheek, Jaz took a cursory glance around, but in the dim, flickering light, she didn't see anything resembling a syringe.

Adam made another pained groan, and she returned her gaze to his face.

His eyes were open, though only slits.

"Top? Can you hear me?"

He said nothing, focusing on getting his wits together. But something was off. People didn't come out of stab wounds chatting enthusiastically, but for whatever reason, Adam seemed more sluggish than he should have.

"Found the syringe, but nothing about what might've been in it," Amir said over the comms, an echo of his voice floating down the corridor.

"Damn," Preach muttered, pressing harder against the bleeding wound. Adam flinched at the extra pressure, but his eyes were still glassy. Odd.

McG and Amir turned the corner, McG at the front with Amir close behind as they swiftly headed toward Adam. The medic fell to a crouch at Adam's side, positioning himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Preach as he retrieved his supplies with a practiced ease.

"Let's just get him out of here," McG sighed. "The sooner we can get him treatment, the better."

When McG was ready, he had Preach remove his scarf, revealing the bleeding puncture at Adam's back. With smooth movements, he packed the wound with gauze and, with Preach's help, bound the wound properly to keep decent pressure during transport. McG didn't like how much blood Adam had already lost.

But it wasn't the knife wound that concerned him the most.

"Top, do you think you can move?" McG called.

"D'n't th'nk so," Adam managed to mumble. His fingers were twitching, his body strangely heavy. "Feel w'rd."

McG's brow furrowed at that, and he looked briefly to Preach. "Preach, think you can carry him?"

"Of course."
"Alright, let's get moving," McG ordered, taking charge of the situation. He and Amir moved to pull Adam up off the floor, and the blond did his best to contribute, but his movements were uncoordinated and slow.

"Hey, hey, take it easy. I've got you," McG reassured him quietly.

"D'zzy," Adam huffed, grimacing.

McG pursed his lips. Honestly, he didn't know if the dizziness was from the blood loss or from whatever abominable thing was in Adam's system.

And shit, that scared the hell out of him.

"We're going to get you some help. Okay, Top?" McG said calmly. He was terrified of this, but he couldn't let on just how much. Out here, there wasn't a lot he could do to respond to an unknown substance. McG just had to be ready for every possibility because he had no idea how the substance would affect Adam's system. And being ready for everything was far harder than being prepared for those one or two expected outcomes.

He couldn't dwell on that now. His job was to get Adam the help he needed.

"I've got you, buddy. We'll get you out of here," Preach muttered soothingly, getting a good grip on the blond. Carefully, he slung Adam over his shoulder, preparing for the journey through the somewhat narrow corridors. What was most worrisome was how Adam just seemed to flop as he was moved, as if he had nothing to give. No fight. No strength.

And that was extremely unusual. Especially for Adam. Even when injured, he kicked and complained—aggressively. But he wasn't doing either. He was hardly even talking.

Once he was properly secured on Preach's shoulder, the team moved quickly. Adam periodically groaned as the walk jostled his knife injury, and occasionally he'd repeat that he was dizzy, as if he wasn't really all there. Preach did his best to be careful and smooth, but he could only manage so much.

And he just kept thinking back to seeing Adam on the floor, unresponsive with a bloodstain on his back.

Sometimes this work was too much.

But right now, he just had to focus on getting Adam the help he needed. That was really all they could do at this point. So he followed Jaz out of the damn concrete tunnels, McG and Amir at his back, praying that Adam would be safe.

Healthy.

And as soon as they made it out of that horrid basement, their comms crackled to life.

"Welcome back to the surface," Patricia greeted smoothly. "Report?"

"Target's been taken care of," Amir answered, stepping in on Preach and Adam's behalf. "But in the pursuit, Top sustained a stab wound and was injected with an unknown substance."
Silence met them on the other end, Patricia processing the information.

"Is he alright?" she asked flatly.

"I packed the wound for travel, but we still aren't sure how the substance has affected him," McG reported. "We're taking him back to base, and hopefully they can find what it was and treat it."

Patricia let the quiet simmer for a bit, the information sinking in steadily. When she spoke again, her voice was more subdued than usual, though still firm as always.

"Well done, team. Keep me posted on Dalton, will you?"

"Absolutely," McG muttered, eyes still trained on his patient. DC disconnected, and the team refocused on the path ahead.

Their mission was over. But their job wasn't done.

Fortunately, their vehicle was close by and away from the public eye. Preach held Adam closely to his shoulder, a strange and unfamiliar fear settling in further. Adam was the closest thing he had to a best friend, but the term seemed so . . . childish for their relationship. They'd known each other for a long time. They'd been through a lot together. And Adam seemed to trust Preach with more than anyone else. The bond they shared couldn't really be measured or defined.

And Preach was terrified of what unknown horrors awaited Adam.

Carrying him to safety didn't seem like enough in this situation. Preach wanted to give more. Offer more. But what could he do? He wasn't a doctor. He wasn't a toxicologist.

So maybe he just had to do what he'd always done. Be the patient support. Be the pillar when Adam was too weak to rely on himself.

Maybe that was it.

Lost in his thoughts, Preach and the team traversed the abandoned roads, finally making it to their little SUV. But it brought little relief for Preach, and that distracting fear nestled in his gut just seemed to grow colder. Wilder.

With limited room, they situated Adam in the middle back seat. McG and Amir quickly sat on either side, sandwiching him between them to help him stay upright. And once Preach was in the driver's seat and Jaz in the front, they scurried off toward base.

Even though it was only fifteen minutes away, it felt so much longer.

Adam's head was tilting this way and that, and his face was constantly pinched in a miserable grimace. He was pale. Weak. Dizzy.

But there was nothing more they could do.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Thankfully, Adam's stab wound wasn't nearly as bad as it could've been. Nothing vital was hit, and the injury was neat enough that stitching it back together was straightforward and smooth.

But the doctors couldn't figure out what the mysterious substance was.

They tested for several known materials with no luck, and with how many possibilities were out in the world, there was no way they could test for every known thing. Even if they could, there was no promise they'd find what this was—especially if there was no record of it.

All the doctors could say was that whatever this was had dampened Adam's movement considerably. He couldn't move much, and when he did, it was sluggish and uncoordinated at times. Fortunately, there wasn't any real danger to Adam.

But they didn't know if it was temporary or permanent.

For now, the only course of action they could take was to keep an eye on him and hope whatever it was cleared his system. Just waiting was agonizing.

But watching Adam pretend everything was fine was even more painful.

He did his best, but the team knew better. If it became permanent, Adam wouldn't be able to work anymore. And they all knew this job was more than just a paycheck. It was his life. He lived for little else.

Without his job, what would he become?

Despite it all, they smiled and put on a carefree mask. They settled in to stay however long they had to. Adam offered weary smiles here and there, but the worried lines of his face became more pronounced with every passing hour. When night came, they had sleeping accommodations moved into the room, and they took turns sleeping and staying up with Adam as he drifted in and out of a weary slumber.

The team just kept him company. Silently reminding him he had support no matter what happened. And they waited together, even as the sun slowly came up over the horizon.

"If things could just stop spinning, that'd be perfect," Adam croaked, a playful hint to his voice.

It'd been just twelve hours, but Adam was much more lucid than before, though still bogged down by a constant dizziness.

"If you could eat, that'd be perfect," McG countered, a smirk pulling at his mouth. Adam grimaced at the idea, closing eyes as he momentarily got a handle on all the spinning.

"I'll get there," he promised, not quite rejecting the idea.

"Well, what will we watch today?" Jaz sighed, flipping channels in quick succession as Amir crossed his legs beside her. Preach was off somewhere, trying to procure some food and drink for the rest of the team. Adam got approved hospital foods. And with his lack of movement, he had to be spoon fed—an idea he bitterly despised but accepted reluctantly.

"You know, you really don't have to stick around," Adam remarked. "I'm okay by myself."

"We know we don't have to be here," McG replied, sitting back in his own seat to watch Jaz jump through the channels. Too bad there were only fifteen channels. "But we want to, and we're not leaving."

Adam fell silent, staring distractedly at the TV. Jaz finally settled on a Turkish soap opera, turning the volume low in the quiet of the room.

The teasing vibe had fled, replaced with a sullen air. No one said a word, not trusting themselves to say the right thing.

Jaz risked a look at her CO. And she hated what she saw there.

His face was blank, but the look in his blue eyes was vulnerable. Worried. Bitter.

It was the only sign of how much he worried about his uncertain future. But even without the faraway looks, they could all tell how poorly he was feeling. In the silence, it was obvious.

Still, they wouldn't address it first. Only Adam had that right.

So for now, they just stayed quiet, watching the Turkish soap opera in peace.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Preach sat alone in Adam's room, absently reading a book his wife had sent from home. Something she was sure he'd like—and so far, it was an excellent read.

After a lot of insistence, the others had headed home to clean up and get a little shuteye. Most likely, they'd be back before sunrise. But for now, only Preach kept watch over Adam in the soothing blanket of darkness, lit only by the bright white glow from the hallway.

Adam had fallen asleep hours ago, looking more than a little more than worse for wear. Things had stayed generally the same. He still couldn't move much and often faded in and out. And while the lack of progress was disheartening, at least things hadn't gotten worse.

Of course, Adam had done his share of grumbling in the past day. He couldn't wear the fake smile anymore, and he didn't like to rely on other people for help. But in his condition, he really had no choice. Most would think his annoyance was out of a sense of pride.

But the team knew it was more out of respect for other people. Of not wanting to trouble anyone. He'd much rather be the helper than the helped.

"Preach?"

The taller man gently closed his book, a little surprised. He hadn't noticed Adam waking up, but with Adam's limited mobility, it wasn't all that surprising. "You should be sleeping."

Adam let out a sigh. One that seemed to hold hidden fear and darkness. "I don't . . ." He didn't finish the sentence, letting it die in the strangely lonely room. "What if this doesn't . . . get better?"

Preach breathed steadily, sitting still in the dim light. He didn't want to answer too hastily—it was a question that deserved a careful answer. But he was grateful it was him that had stayed the night. If anyone else had been sitting here, Adam would've kept all this bottled up and hidden away. And Preach often worried about Adam hiding too much.

"If it doesn't, we'll figure out the next step. Together," Preach answered steadily.

"But you know I can't stay here like this," Adam whispered, defeated. "I'd be sent back stateside. And you'd all still be here."

Preach's heart broke just a little, but he kept it tightly under wraps. He always had a suspicion that Adam feared loneliness, but the blond had never actually admitted it. And this was as close to an admission Preach would ever get.

And damn, it was heavier than Preach thought it'd be.

"True. But we'll be there when we can. And there are other people stateside that love and care for you," Preach reminded him. "Your sisters—"

"My sisters," Adam scoffed. "Spent their whole lives looking to me to protect them, and I come back like this?"

"You might be surprised how much they'd like to return the favor."

Adam shook his head a little, all he could muster. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, a habit he'd developed trying to chase off the continuous dizziness. "I know they can handle it," he muttered. "They're stronger than they let on. But I'm not sure if I could handle it."

The words were sobering. Powerful. It spoke volumes on how aware Adam was of his own boundaries.

"I can think of someone else over there that wouldn't mind offering her support."

Adam frowned, thinking for a moment before his eyes shifted over to Preach's. "Patricia?"

Preach nodded sagely. "She's been asking about you. Checking in regularly." He set his book aside, leaning forward a bit. "If this doesn't get better, you've got a support system. We'll figure something out. Maybe they could give you a desk job. Not what you want, but then you wouldn't have to give up on all this completely."

Adam was quiet as he let the idea sit. Maybe it wasn't as hopeless as he thought. It wasn't ideal, yet he could adapt. He was good at that.

"But it hasn't come to that yet," Preach stated quietly. "It's only been a day and a half. Let's give it time to run its course before we explore solutions, hm?"

Preach had a point. Adam was trained to plan for the worst in every scenario, and it was hard to leave that frame of mind for something like this. But it was pretty early to expect the worst.

At his side, Preach moved to pick up his book again, cracking it open as he leaned back in his seat. "Get some sleep. And maybe you'll feel better in the morning."

Adam smiled to himself.

He was still bitter. Frightened. But at least he had a spark of hope that there was something still in his future if everything failed.

He could hold onto that. At least for a little while.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

It had been almost two full days now since Adam was ambushed, and the team was starting to settle into a routine. They'd actually become invested in a couple Turkish soap operas, and the mood in the room had lightened considerably since the first day.

Adam's smiles even seemed more genuine.

They were all absorbed in the latest episode of a soap opera when the doctor came in for a regular checkup.

"I see I'm missing all the good stuff," he joked as he perused Adam's chart, looking over any new nurse notes.

"Have you seen this?" Jaz asked, gesturing to the TV. "It's addicting!"

The doc smirked, shaking his head. "Had to swear them off, I'm afraid. Couldn't get anything done." The team let out a soft round of chuckles as he moved toward Adam. "How's our patient today?"

"Not as dizzy," Adam answered with a small smile. "So that's a relief."

"Ah, glad it's getting a little better," the doctor replied, wrapping his hand around Adam's. "Alright, you know the drill. Squeeze for me?"

Adam gave it his usual amount of effort, now used to failure.

"Hey, look at that," the doctor said casually, though a certain giddiness gurgled under the service. "Progress."

Adam looked at him, confusion in his gaze. "What?"

"Looks like your getting some movement back," the doctor clarified, grinning widely. Adam continued to stare at him, then down at his hand, which was loosely clenching the doctor's fingers. The team had jerked from their relaxed positions, stiff in their seats as they carefully observed.

Adam looked back up. "That's . . ." A relieved smile pulled at his lips. "That's great." If there was a particularly gooey shine to his eyes, no one said a word.

"Holy shit, that's fantastic!" Jaz blurted, jumping up from her seat as the news finally sunk in.

"If I may trouble you for my hand back, I'll leave you to it," the doctor said quietly with a lingering smirk.

Adam looked down again. "Oh, yeah, sorry." He immediately released the doctor's hand, and the doc patted him supportively on the shoulder.

"I'll be by to check on you later."

As he left, the team quickly filled the space he'd left behind, crowding the bed with a wave of congratulatory murmurs and exclamations. What had been a hopeful spirit of acceptance had flourished into a joyful buzz. Even such small progress promised something better.

Adam's eyes locked with Preach's, and the two shared a silent look.

Maybe it would all turn out.

Maybe he wouldn't have to take a desk job.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Adam only got better. And better. And better.

He moved more and more, and after another day, he was almost completely back to normal. Still a little slow and a little shaky, but he could walk on his own, though it was a bit slouchy with the stab wound at his back.

In true Adam fashion, he played it cool with every passing hour of improvement. Yet, the team could see just how ecstatic he was with each happy quirk of his lips. With the light in his eyes.

And today, he was finally going home.

"Now, I know you've got your freedom back," the doctor huffed, "but you've got to take it easy. You sustained a fairly deep stab wound only a few days ago. The body needs time to rest and recover."

"Sure, I hear ya, doc," Adam acknowledged dismissively. The other man leveled a look at him.

"Do you?" he tested.

For a minute, Adam just stared at him, taking in the serious gaze. Then a smile split his face and he nodded.

"Yeah, doc, I'll take it easy," he answered a bit contritely. "Promise."

"Okay then," the doctor chuckled, handing Adam some papers and a prescription bag. "I'll see you in a couple of weeks."

"Thanks, doc," Adam returned with a smile. The team was waiting for him just outside of the room, their lighthearted jabbering floating pleasantly through the doorway.

The doctor glanced at them before turning back to Adam, shoving his hands in his coat pockets. "You've got a good team there."

Adam looked out, catching Jaz playfully punching McG's shoulder.

"Yeah, I do."

Fin.