Dean smacked the door shut before Lachie could sneak out.
"Step aside." Lachie tried to use his Sergeant authority to sway Dean.
Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at the living room. Lachie's eyes widened at the finger snap. He might be a member of the SAS, taller, stronger and trained to kill; but, the finger snap and point brought him back to being a teenager. Fuck, the snap and point meant that Dean was going to kick his arse! If anything, Dean had gotten more intimidating in the nine years that he'd been gone with the Army.
Lachie moved towards the living room followed by Chase and Dean. Christ how did he explain the mess he'd gotten himself into?
This was going to be worse than that time back in school. Lachie slumped down in his chair and remembered, Chase had been an ankle biter, Dean was new to Rescue, and he'd been about ready to ship out to the Basic Training Course. One last harrah with his mates; a big night. Yeah, except it hadn't ended that way. Dean had ended up putting out an illegal bonfire; and sneaking the four teenagers away in the back of his car so they didn't get caught by the coppers or firies headed their way. Dean had dropped John, Kevan, and Josh off; and kicked his arse for doing something so incredibly stupid. The finger snap had been used that night too. It had been a good thing they'd been living with the old man and not sharing walls with neighbors. The Army for the most part had been a cakewalk compared to living at home that last couple years; between mum leaving, dad never being home, school, footie, and Dean being a pain in the ass. Well, a cakewalk up until that last tour in Afghanistan. His unit had ended up with a shite CO. Seriously shite!
Dean opened three beers, and passed them out while Lachie prepared himself. Staring at his feet, he felt like an ankle biter getting caught stealing candy.
"Lachlan."
"I hate that name" was the petulant response.
Dean just stared at him and waited.
"Come on Lachie." Chase pleaded; he knew that holding out on Dean was never a good thing. He'd tried it a few times as a teenager; and it had never fared well for him.
Dean just sat and stared at him. Waiting.
Lachie squirmed and reached for the bowl of noodles that Chase had made. Dean just stared. This was insane; he'd undergone training to be able to endure extreme interrogations – and he was undone by a stare from his older brother.
He fingered the fork, and he words started pouring out. "We were on patrol in Afghanistan." And while he nervously played with the bottle of beer he kept talking about how the air support didn't come; how their Commanding Officer (CO) said air support did come. He kept talking, telling them how Jake died, and finally winding down with "they're like a family to me."
Chase flinched at that, and looked over at Dean; who dipped a shoulder in understanding. Rescue had provided him with a support network and a family when he'd needed. Chase nodded in understanding. Family, no matter how it was made, was family.