"Trent, when do we land?" Clay shifted as best he could.
"Hey bud. We land in an hour or so. How you doing? Pain? Nausea?" Trent stepped closer to the gurney.
"Yeah. Umm shoulder is like a 6 or 7 and yeah I feel like I might puke. Plane vibrating isn't helping much." Clay kept his eyes closed as they spoke.
Trent reached for the medication needed and rolled the vile of morphine in his palm rolling it back and forth as he grabbed a syringe. The memory of numbness hadn't faded. He doubted it ever actually would disappear as he had once hoped. He glanced to Rena sleeping nearby as he withdrew the drug pulling back on the plunger.
"I'm giving you some more morphine and antiemetics. It should help. When we land you'll be checked out at the base hospital before coming home with me." Trent injected the drugs into his IV line.
"You'll have your hands full. I can crash with Jase or Ray." Clay relaxed as the medication flowed into him. "Or Sonny."
"I'd rather keep an eye on you myself." Trent patted his right shoulder. "Sleep if you can."
"Tr'nt" His words slurred as the morphine took hold. "Than's. Feel better."
"Of course, brother." Trent sat back in the net seating.
Jason stood nearby watching the interaction between his medic and his Kid. When Trent finally sat and Clay drifted into a drug induced haze he made his way closer. Sitting beside Trent he nudged his knee against Trent's.
"Where's your head?" Jason looked at him.
"I'm good, Boss." Trent looked up him with certainty on his face.
"You sure about that?" Jason questioned.
"I was until you asked... what's up, Jace?" Trent's elbows were on his knees.
"Trent, is there a reason you're spinning a vile of morphine in your hand? Is there a reason you didn't put it back?" He said the words like a man who didn't really want an answer.
Trent exhaled slowly before standing and putting the medication back in the cabinet. Turning back to Jason he shrugged. "Didn't even realize I was doing it." Trent returned to his seat. "Not sure what that says."
"Says it's been an awful few days." Jason sat for a minute before continuing. "Brock could come stay on your couch to help out."
"I'm sure he has plans." Trent didn't say more.
"Yeah well Team comes first." Jason stretched.
"I've got them. It'll be fine." Trent looked back to him.
"I know you have them, I'm making sure someone has you." Jason stood. "So who you want? Because one of us has your couch for at least a few nights."
"No point in arguing?" Trent sighed.
"None at all." Jason walked away.
The plane landed in a downpour. The type of rain that almost instantly soaks straight though clothing making it stick to every part of a person. Trent tried not to shake as he helped load Clay into the waiting ambulance. It was the second ambulance pulling away as Clay had insisted Serena be loaded first, even as Trent and Duncan argued.
The umbrellas Davis had provided did little to keep them dry as the wind blew the rain in every direction but up. As they walked to the waiting vehicles Trent was vaguely aware of his brothers surrounding him. He could hear Sonny complaining about the change from desert to hurricane conditions while the others laughed. Slamming the door shut behind him after climbing in the back seat of the SUV he exhaled slowly grateful for just a moment of silence.
Jason and Ray took the front two seats as Sonny and Brock approached. The door opposite Trent opened and Brock slid into the middle seat while Sonny climbed beside him.
The sound of the windshield wipers and the rain hitting the roof of the SUV were rhythmic. Trent leaned back in the seat wishing for distraction. "Ray, radio?"
"Huh?" Ray turned to him from the passenger seat.
"Radio?" Trent repeated his request.
"Oh yeah." Ray turned and switched the music on as they made the short trip to the second hospital in as many days.
Walking down the long hallway by himself Trent felt more exhausted than he had since SERE training. The rest of the team had gone to check in on Clay and had promised to text him an update on their kid brother as soon as they had any information. Trent had gone to be with Rena.
A part of him felt guilty leaving Clay but he knew the others would get accurate information and he would speak to the doctors before discharge. He assumed that would either be later today or tomorrow as Clay had already tried to refuse to even come here despite his pain level. He slowed as he approached her room.
"I want to leave." She was sitting on the edge of the bed as he opened the door.
"What do the doctor's say?" Trent stepped inside.
"That I have to stay." She attempted to stand.
"Then maybe you should." Trent crossed the room to prevent her from stumbling.
"I want to leave." She clung to him.
"I know but we really need to think about what is best." Trent held her upright as he spoke to her wondering how many times he had tried to convince people to stay hospitalized in his lifetime.
She shook in his arms. "I can't stay here." He could feel her panic set in as her respiration rate increased. "Please don't make me stay here."
"Okay. Okay take a deep breath. You're okay and we're going home soon." Trent held her as closely as he could wondering if it was the sniper in Germany or the experience in Somalia triggering a reaction. "Ssh it's okay." He moved so he could lower them both into a sitting position on the bed.
She hiccupped as her breathing evened out and her tears continued. Holding her gently but securely he sat. Trent did his best to practice sniper breathing in the hopes that she would imitate it but that didn't seem to be helping.
"I wish I had a cigarette." She shifted to sit next to him, still trembling but calmer.
"When was your last?" He laughed at the detail he had never known.
"About a decade ago."
"I'm going to call the nurse to get you discharged." Trent reached for the call button. "We all have our vices."
"Yeah." She leaned into him listening to him speak through the intercom but not actually hearing the words.
The soft knock on the door caused her to tense. Trent wrapped his arm around her shoulder sitting beside her. Running his hand slowly up and down.
"Hey guys, sorry to interrupt. Clay's good to go. Just checking in to see if you're staying." Brock spoke to Serena.
Shaking her head and staring ahead but not at him she spoke. "No, I'm not staying."
"Just waiting on paperwork. He actually cleared or just stubborn enough to win the argument with a resident whose attending will later rip them apart for it?" Trent hoped it was the first but doubted it.
"Well... yeah he can be pretty stubborn. Said your guestroom is better than this place." Brock half smiled.
Three hours later Trent was leaning on the doorframe of his bedroom watching her sleep. She had the blankets pulled as high as they would go with just a splash of long red hair showing. And still he could see her tremble.
"Clay's asleep too." Brock stood beside him.
"You don't have to stay." Trent didn't turn to him.
"I'm staying." Brock stood still.
"Because Jason ordered you to?" Trent spoke with no emotion.
"Wow. Really, Trent?" Brock turned and walked into the kitchen.
"Yeah really." Trent followed.
"Actually I was staying in case you needed help. I was staying because I thought you would want me here." Brock spoke in a hushed tone.
"So Jason didn't order you to stay? I don't want you here if you have better places to be." Trent opened the fridge and stared at his lack of food.
"He asked who wanted to stay. It was never an order... What exactly did I do to you? Or not do for you?" Brock's voice rose.
Trent wanted to slam the fridge door shut but instead took a deep breath. "I'm not doing this."
"Oh I'm sorry I didn't realize the conversation was optional." Brock threw his hands in the air.
"Just call Jason and tell him I kicked you out." Trent said evenly as he walked into the living room and opened a desk drawer that contained numerous takeout menus.
"Really?" Brock's frustration rang in his voice.
"Really. Brock I'm not sure what you don't understand here. Grab your stuff and go away." Trent turned away once again.
"Why are you so pissed?" Brock grabbed his duffle and took two steps to the door before turning back.
"Brock, I'm tired and sore and hungry and I really don't want to do this." Trent pulled out his phone after finding the menu he was looking for.
"Okay. I'll go, but just remember you're the one that told me to." He slowly reached for the knob.
"This time." Trent's voice was just above a whisper.
"What?" Brock let the bag fall from his shoulder.
"This time I asked you to leave. But the last... what year or so you haven't really been around anyway, have you?" Trent sat down.
"I'm not the only one who has things they don't share. I'm not the only one." Brock shut the door.
"Yeah." Trent looked up at him.
"It's not that I don't want to..." Brock sat at the opposite end of the couch.
"I know. I've missed you." Trent handed him the takeout menu. "Chinese?"
"You know the food in China is nothing like what we call Chinese food here?" Brock looked at him.
"You know you say that every time we get Chinese?" Trent laughed. "Just pick something."