The knock on the door at six the next morning had Sonny grumbling as he untangled his blankets and stumbled to the door. Looking through the peephole never occurred to him as he swung the door wide open. Brock stood in the hallway wearing trackpants and a sweatshirt. Cerb sat patiently beside him tail wagging.
"Morning, Sonny. Was wondering if anyone was up for a run?" Cerb bounded inside and was met in the hallway to the bedroom by Simba who puffed and hissed at the intrusion.
"Did you even sleep, Brock?" Sonny shut the door as Brock entered to get the dog. Cerb was backing up with his tail between his legs.
"Yeah, of course I did." Brock stood in the living room stretching as Sonny ambled into the kitchen to start the coffee.
Trent closed his bedroom door as quietly as he could to allow Serena to keep sleeping. "You don't turn your fucking phone off." The brokenness in his voice could be heard in the quiet way he said it. "Ever. You don't turn your phone off ever again."
Brock looked up at Trent who had clearly been woken by the conversation. His hair was standing up in odd directions and the creases from his pillow were showing lines on his face. More than anything though Brock saw worry. "It died after our run. I'm sorry."
Trent nodded at the plausible excuse. "We know what happened with Mandy."
"All good, brother. Just came to see if anyone wanted to go for a run this morning." Brock tried to school his expression.
"I don't know whether to knock you the fuck out or hug you." Trent took the cup of coffee Sonny offered.
"What do you want me to say, Trent? Not everyone gets a happy ending. It sucks but it's the truth." Brock leaned on the couch stretching his hamstring. "So a run?"
"Let me change." Trent sipped at the coffee adjusting to the heat before gulping it down.
"Sonny?" Brock turned to the Texan.
"Oh hell no. You try to runaway your feelings and I'm not a part of that." He reached for a donut.
"I don't runaway from my feelings." Brock looked hurt for just an instant.
"Didn't say ya did. Said you try to run the feelings away. There's a difference." He dunked the donut in his coffee before taking a bite. "You push to hard when you're hurtin' and I ain't tryin' to keep up with ya. Ya nearly killed Trent yesterday... man still smells like icy hot and bengay."
Trent finished changing and walked back into the kitchen. Looking between the two he wondered what the conversation was that made them both look slightly guilty. He rolled his shoulders and stretched slowly.
"You don't have to come." Brock looked up to him.
"I'm good." Trent grabbed a water from the refrigerator. "What's up?"
"Sonny said you were hurting yesterday." Brock looked to Sonny.
"It won't kill me." Trent slipped on his running shoes and bent to tie the laces. "Ready when you are."
Trent regretted agreeing to run with Brock again when they started their fourth mile of the run. His chest ached and there was a stabbing pain in both his sides near his hips. He slowed his pace slightly panting to try and get a deep breath. He slowed more.
Brock circled back when he saw that Trent was no longer beside him. Brock was jogging in place beside him as Trent hunched over. "You okay?"
"Nah." Trent stepped from the track as his stomach rolled and he tried unsuccessfully not to gag. He wretched and spit bile. "Think I'm done." He was referring to vomiting.
"Oh yeah, you're done." Brock stood closely as Trent spit again while still bent over. "Let's get you home."
Trent felt shaky and sticky and cold by the time they pulled into the parking lot of his apartment complex. "I feel like shit."
"I can see that." Brock turned off his truck. "From the running or something else?"
"That wasn't running. That was four miles of sprinting." He smiled to Brock who looked back guilty. "Honestly I think the last week and a half caught up with me."
"Sonny is gonna kick my ass." Brock shook his head.
"Nope. I was jogging with you... thinking it's a stomach bug." Trent smiled at the lie.
"That the other three people in your house won't catch? Good try." Brock looked to Cerb in the back.
"Come inside?" Trent turned toward him.
"Might actually go run a bit more." Brock stared out the windshield.
"So I actually might need some help getting inside." Trent exhaled slowly. "And it might actually be something more than stress. And Cerb looks as tired as I feel so... Come inside?"
"Yeah." Brock undid his seatbelt. "I shouldn't have asked her. I keep thinking maybe I knew she would say no."
"Did you want her to say yes?"
"Yeah."
"Brock, she loves her job. After all the hell of clearing up the mess I made going on the rescue operation for Rena, you had to know it would be a choice between the two." Trent was confused.
"My enlistment is up in four months. This would have been my last deployment." Brock looked at his hands.
"Shit..." Trent sat quietly for a few seconds. "You weren't going to reup?"
"No. I don't know what would have been next but the last few months every spin up seemed harder in a way I haven't felt before." He put his head against the stirring wheel. "Felt like I didn't belong anymore. And Cerb is getting older, seemed like maybe it was the time. I'm not sure I have the energy to train a new dog."
"If that run is any indication you have the energy." Trent swallowed hard.
"Let's get you inside." Brock reached for the door. "You think a line would help?"
"Not necessary. Some Pedialyte and a nap will do." Trent opened his door.
Serena watched as Trent and Brock walked into the apartment. She was sitting on the couch with Simba purring in her lap. Cerb made his way over to her sniffing the small cat. "Hey buddy. How are you?" She let Cerb smell the hand that had been petting the kitten and looked up to the men. "Better than Trent, huh?"
"Ugh. I need to sit." Trent slouched beside her.
"I'll grab Pedialyte from the fridge." Brock lowered his head and walked into the kitchen.
"You look like hell." She ran a hand through his sweaty hair and let it rest on the back of his neck.
"I need to rehydrate and rest. I'll be fine." Trent leaned into her touch.
"Ah that famous Trent Sawyer line of 'I'll be fine just as long as my brothers are.' You're not fine, Trent." She squeezed the back of his neck as she whispered the words.
"I'm tired and worn out." Trent cracked his neck.
"Here you go. I can take off." Brock handed him the drink.
"You should stay. We both know he's not going to rest unless he knows you're okay and Sonny and Clay should be back soon." Serena tucked her legs under herself.
"Yeah. I can stay." Brock sat uncomfortably in the recliner fidgeting. "Where'd they go anyway?"
"Clay wanted an outing. They ran to the store." Serena smiled. "I think it was to see how I'd do alone with Simba actually."
"And?" Trent put a hand on her knee.
Serena's smile widened. "And, Simba makes it better." The smiled faded slightly. "I've traveled the world alone and spent time in places no one should be and somehow being here alone seems like the scariest place on the planet sometimes."
"It'll get better. It will." Trent rubbed her leg.
"It will. Trent, go shower. You smell." She laughed.
"Brock help me up." Trent reached out his left hand. Brock stood and grasped his wrist and pulled him up. "Thanks."
"Yeah. You care if I make food?" Brock stayed standing.
"Not at all." Trent made his way to the bathroom.
Brock moved into the kitchen and looked in the cupboards and refrigerator. He exhaled slowly and turned back to look at Serena. "You interested in anything specific?"
"Cereal. That's about the extent of my abilities in the kitchen and what I'm used to." Serena reached for a bowl.
"You getting sick of sharing space with all of Bravo instead of just Trent?" Brock put bread in the toaster and grabbed applebutter from the refrigerator.
"It's different than what I expected. When I've been with Trent before it was just us... so guess I never realized how truly close you guys all were... had to see it to know. But in a way it makes everything about him make more sense." Serena poured milk over cinnamon toast crunch cereal.
"You ever had that cooked on actual French toast? It's good." Brock smiled as she shook her head. "I'll make you some another time...He's right you know about being okay. It takes time and there are some things that don't feel like we'll ever get over but we do."
"You talking about me or you?" Serena put her spoon down.
"Both, I guess." Brock looked to the door as Sonny and Clay came inside.
"You kill Trent this time?" Sonny carried snack items and fruit into the kitchen.
"He's drinking Pedialyte so he's still alive at least." Clay pointed to the grape flavored drink on the coffee table.
"He assures me he will be fine." Serena took another bite of her cereal while rolling her eyes.
"He vomited and said we weren't running we were sprinting. Might have pushed a bit hard." Brock took a bite of his toast.
"He omitted the puking while saying he was fine." Serena scowled.
"Not surprising. He'd kill us for omittin' a damn hangnail." Sonny turned to Brock. "You gonna deal with your shit or just run him to death?"
"Nothing to deal with. A bad day or two. All good." Brock lied ineffectively.
Clay laughed outright. "Yup and I wasn't really that sick. Just a slight infection."
"No. You were level ten sick. What are we debating though?" Trent left the bedroom door open and he walked out still towel drying his hair.
"Oh you know Sonic says he's all good. Just a bad day or two." Sonny laughed. "I say running you until you collapse says more but what do I know?"
"I didn't collapse." Trent stole a piece of toast off Brock's plate.
"No you just puked." Serena raised her eyebrows.
"Thanks, Brock." Trent took more of his toast.
"It's not on Brock that you didn't tell me." She smiled at Trent.
"No it isn't." Trent shook his head and was put in his place.
"Is that how deployment goes too? Months of you omitting?" She walked away.