He saw nothing but smoke. It billowed while he choked. Black and gray swirls surrounded him. He was flat on his back. His head might be bleeding, it hurt. His arm felt wet but numb. He patted himself, starting at his feet hoping for a clue as to what had happened, if he was safe, and where he was injured. Confusion washed over him.
Slowly he sat up. He felt like he was spinning. Darkness blanketed him but he felt cold. Maybe too cold.
The sand beneath his feet was packed. Desert sand. Dry and course. He wondered if he had ever had shoes on his feet, wondered if it even mattered because his feet were bare now.
In the distance he could see a light through the shadows. Rays of hope maybe. He thought the light was getting closer. Moving to him. He stumbled backwards in the darkness. Away from it's brightness. It was probably warmer in the light but somehow that caused fear to course through him.
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"I'm Trent and I'm an addict." He stood at the podium looking at the small group gathered in the basement of the Methodist church just off base.
"Hi, Trent." The chorus of people responded while Clay sat at the back wall of the room sipping the worst coffee he had ever tasted.
"I've been sober for 9 years, 3 months, and 6 days." Trent smiled briefly. "But it's been a hard year and a horrible week."
Clay watched as his brother shared the darkest parts of himself with a group of strangers. It was a type of bravery that didn't exist outside of rooms like this. It wasn't something he ever expected to find here or from Trent.
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The silence was almost painful in this place. He was sure he had ever been in a place so quiet before, wondered if his ears were working. Expected to hear ringing at least but there was nothing.
He took another step that took more energy than the last. He wanted to stop, to rest. But when he turned back the light was closer.
He wondered if he was moving away from help briefly. If he was wandering to nothingness. But the thought of being in the light made him shiver against the cold.
He wished the quiet would lapse into laughter. That he would hear a voice he knew calling out to him. He wanted to tell just to hear but when he opened his mouth no sound came. The silence remained until in the distance he thought he heard the whimper of an animal. He thought he should avoid it, be afraid of it but instead he was drawn to the sound to escape the void.
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"Thanks for doing that." Trent started the truck.
"No problem." Clay fought to get his crutches beside him. "That coffee was horrible though."
"Yeah it always is, I should have warned you." Trent laughed. "I'm serious though, thank you."
"Yeah. You feel any better?" Clay stared out the windshield.
"Yeah I do. It helps." Trent turned toward a shopping center.
"So umm are you guys planning to move?" Clay hesitated slightly.
"Yeah. The apartment was fine for me but it feels small now and when the baby comes it will feel smaller." Trent couldn't help the smile.
"Yeah. Sonny and I were wondering if maybe you could uh... maybe you could get a place with thicker walls?" Clay blushed.
Trent laughed. "Yeah. Sonny make you ask that?"
"You know he did." Clay continued to turn red.
Trent blushed slightly as well. "You guys can hear? Like everything?"
"You only call her beautiful in bed and fuck I wish I didn't know that... it's like knowing my parents had sex." Clay shifted uncomfortably.
Trent laughed loudly at how uncomfortable his youngest team member clearly was. "Clay she is pregnant with my baby... did you think we didn't?"
"Knowing and hearing are two different things. Can we please not talk about this anymore?" Clay turned to look out the passenger window.
Trent glanced over at him. "Sure." He couldn't help but laugh more before looking back to Clay. "So clothes?"
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In the quiet dark the light grew closer. He was sure he could hear something from the light. The light felt alive, too real, too bright, and now too loud.
He realized he was running. One bare foot slamming onto dry sand and then the other. Desperately he reached inside to propel himself further from the light. Further into the inky black swirling smoke that surrounded him. And then he was falling.
His hands touched down an instant before his knees. In the dirt he could feel impressions. Tracks. He let his fingers dance around the depressed earth. Boots. There were boot prints in the desert. On his hands and knees he crawled and clawed at the marks made by men he felt the need to follow. And then his fingers found a smaller track. An animal print. The whining in the distance became louder. A dog maybe?
His throat ached as he tried to call out the the animal but no noise came from his mouth. He tried to swallow the pain and found his mouth full of the same sand below his hands. Panic filled him as he fought to breathe.
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Trent laughed as Clay followed him in a mall provided wheelchair. The crowds parted to let him pass. "Swear this is how we do it from now on."
"It's December twentieth. We deserve this being a pain in the ass." Clay laughed back at him.
"Ah yes we deserve it for being deployed until a few days ago." Trent sarcastically stated.
"Amazon." Clay smirked. "So who's next?" Trent looked down at the list he made in the same order every year to avoid the epic failure of forgetting a loved one during the chaos of holiday shopping. He stopped in the middle of center court causing Clay to almost hit him in the powerchair. He stood frozen while Clay gently said his name. "Trent?"
"Umm I wrote Brock next." Trent looked to him. "But why don't we look for something for Sonny now."
"Okay." Clay spoke softly.
They moved again and found a grill set Trent thought Sonny would appreciate. Trent jokingly got Ray a professional hair cutting kit that was on clearance due to the fact that all his haircuts were at home. For Jason he picked out a leatherbound journal which he had quickly embroidered with his initials. He didn't bother getting anything for Clay as Serena had informed him that she had it covered although he was curious.
"Am I next?" Clay laughed while taking a bite of soft pretzel.
"Rena already shopped for you." Trent shot back.
"Oh. What'd she get me?" Clay sipped lemonade through a bendy straw and looked five years old.
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He stumbled as he ran from the light. He felt his arm give way as he attempted to catch himself before his head hit the dirt. He coughed and gagged and yelled out in the darkness.
The light felt like it was on top of him now as the noise of his own yell suddenly filled his ears with the rushing force of a hurricane. He gasped before looking to the light. He wanted to blink away the brightness but was transfixed by the searing light.
"I give up." He fell into the sand below him. His right hand felt the grooves left by boots and his right the track of a dog. "I can't outrun you. I'm not fast enough and it hurts too much now." He whispered the words into the unknown.
From the brightness stepped a figure illuminated by the light. It moved closer and he desperately tried not to flinch away from whatever was about to happen.
The light disappeared and in it's absence the darkness was no longer blackness. The figure was now clearly a man. He moved slowly forward until he was above Brock who was laying flat on his back trying to catch elusive breath.
"You mind if I sit?" He smiled slightly at Brock before sitting without waiting for an answer. "Been a long time. You look like shit."
He lifted himself onto his elbows to look at the strange man in fatigues of some sort. "I don't know you."
"That's okay. It has been awhile and you basically got your shit kicked in." The man smiled genuinely at him. "I won't take it personally. How's your head?"
"It hurts. What is this place?" Brock turned back to look at the tracks in the sand.
"I'm not sure." The man looked at the tracks. "So you're six again?Sometimes seven from the look of it."
"What?" Brock looked at him in confusion.
"The boot prints. There are seven sets." The man looked at him as if it was obvious. "And the dog."
"Oh yeah. I guess. The dog seems important somehow." Brock looked at the prints as the man watched him.
"Yeah he is." He reached a hand to Brock's shoulder. "You really got your bell rung huh?"
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
"I think I'm done. You good?" Trent watched Clay sip the last of his lemonade.
"Uh yeah. So a ring is next?" Clay smiled. "What style are you thinking? There are different cuts of diamonds."
Trent nodded as he listened. "I'm not getting her a diamond. She hates them. I was thinking maybe a gold band with the green stones?"
"Emeralds. She likes green?" Clay laughed at his friend's lack of knowledge when it came to jewelry.
"Yeah those." Trent smiled. "I knew I brought you along for a reason."
The made their way into a chain jewelry store where the salesman immediately tried to convince Trent that a diamond was a better choice. Trent was annoyed but listened patiently as the man claimed to know what a woman he didn't know would love. Eventually a gold band with emeralds and ethically sourced diamonds was purchased and they were back in the mall proper.
Trent stretched and twisted slightly trying to relieve the ache in his back that lingered. "I'm done shopping. You need to get for anyone else?"
"Umm yeah. I don't have anything for Brock." Clay looked at him sheepishly as if afraid of the reaction.
"Clay." Trent rubbed at his eyes while his head tilted down.
"Look, I get it. You don't want to buy something for him but I have to. He's still here Trent." He whispered the last sentence.
"Clay, it's not that I don't want to get him something." He exhaled loudly. "I just don't know what to get him. A blanket for the life he'll probably spend in a nursing home, or a new bite sleeve?"
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
"It isn't as cold since you came." Brock looked to the man.
"Yeah brothers keep you warm." The man smiled to him.
"Brothers?" Confusion knitted his brows.
"It will make sense another time. And when it does you'll wish you knew now." The man allowed his shoulder to touch Brock's.
"Thank you for the vagueness. I appreciate it so while clearly concussed." Brock wanted to be mad but couldn't hold back the laugh.
"No problem."
"Hey what's your name?" Brock suddenly became serious.
"What is yours?" The man responded.
"Umm... I don't actually know. Do you?" He thought he should be panicked but felt calm.
"Yeah, both of them, but that's cheating." He smirked. "You up for a walk?"
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Trent drove without saying a word. They had agreed without a full discussion that they were done shopping and going to the hospital. Going to see Brock, even if Trent wasn't sure his best friend would ever know he was there.
"You want to text Jason and see if they need anything?" He kept his eyes on the road while speaking.
A minute passed before Clay read the reply. "Jace says if we could just give them a short break. It would be good for Mandy."
"Yeah." Guilt washed over him thinking about having to be asked to be there.
They made it up to the floor of the Neuro ICU without speaking. Both lost in their own spaces. Trent knocked gently on the glass door.
"Hey Boss, how is he?" Trent asked quietly.
"About the same as last night. The doc says he just isn't ready to make any changes, whatever that means." Jason looked exhausted but would argue leaving so neither mentioned it.
Clay stared into the room before limping forward. "Why don't you guys go get some real food. We'll stay until you're back."
Mandy stood and smiled sadly at them before moving to hug them both. "Thank you for coming." She tucked her hair behind her ear as Clay went into the vacated space. "They say he can hear us if you want to talk to him."
Clay nodded solemnly. "Hey Brother." He lowered himself into a chair. "Trent and I are gonna hang out for a bit if that's okay?"
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
"Can you hear that?" Brock looked at the nameless man.
"What?" He asked
"Mumbling?" Brock concentrated on the sound.
"Yeah. They want you to come back." He nodded.
"Back where?"
"You'll know when it's time to go either way." He stood and reached a hand to Brock. "Walk?"
Brock reached up. "To where?"
"For someone who only said three words to me you certainly are chatty." He laughed. "Where? To wherever we end up."
"So follow the tracks?" Brock asked with uncertainty.
"That feel right? Then yeah let's follow the tracks." He waited for Brock for a moment.
NNNNNNNNNNNNNNN
Trent sat opposite Clay and slowly took Brock's hand. "Hey Broccoli. I'm here. Sorry I haven't been here more. I don't have an excuse. It's just hard."
Clay memorized the lines on the tile made from the movement of medical equipment. He stared at the insignificant marks while Trent spoke. He felt like an interloper in a private moment.
"What are you doing Clay?" Trent watched as his eyes moved in patterns across the floor.
"Looking at these lines." Clay blushed.
"You always notice unimportant details like that huh?" Trent smiled sadly at him.
"I guess. Might be why I'm a good sniper. Why does it matter?" Clay glanced back to the floor.
"It's called hypervigilance. You notice details other people don't. Slight changes that seem so insignificant no one even bothers to process them. But you see the details in everything. It probably does serve you well now." Trent spoke softly.
"Seems like there's a but coming." Clay met his eyes.
"But it won't if you ever do anything other than be a doorkicker."
"Right. So I'm assuming there is some importance to it?" Clay almost didn't ask.
Trent sighed. "Kids with crap parents learn it as a survival skill."
"Trauma response." Clay nodded.
"Yeah." Trent flinched slightly. "It was probably a muscle spasm but I swear he just squeezed my hand."
NNNNNNNNNNNNNN
"You want to keep walking?" The man turned to him.
"My head hurts. Honestly I want to sleep." Brock took another step. "But that doesn't seem like an option here."
"It is." He took a step closer. "But sleeping is all you've done."
"My hand is warm." Brock looked at his own hand as if it wasn't attached.
"You can feel that?" He smiled.
"Feel what?" He tightened his hand into a fist and then released.
"Your hand being held." The man smiled wider.
"Is that what it is?" Brock felt like he was drifting.
"It is. Hey do me a favor?" The man spoke as Brock nodded.
"When you figure out who he is will you tell Jace that I'm sorry for the burner phone and the confusion that followed."
"Yeah. But who are you?" He wanted to remember the man.
"You'll figure it out brother." He turned and started to walk away. "Good luck, Five."
"Thank you." Brock took a step to follow him.
"Wrong way, Brother. You follow their path and you'll find home."