Master Chief Seaver spotted Clay Spenser among other cadets of Green Team at the second week of training. Adam just returned from the mission with Alpha. The Alpha Two and Three were having some nasty flu and Seaver was asked to help. So now he was observing the group, for which he will be responsible, while Chief Dan Madson was speaking, occasionally checking with the papers.

"Jan McAdams, thirty-five. Three tours to Afghanistan. Solid team player, potential leader of the group. Good with hand-to-hand. Have problems with cardio." Adam nodded, eying the muscled man. They would need to work on this endurance.

"Al Watson, thirty-two. Good with tactics, worked at police, decent skills. On the other side - short-tempered, already had some problems with discipline."

"Ed Sarcisian, thirty-three. Bomb specialist. Was serving within bomb squad for five years. Good results so far, but not far from average." Seaver frowned. EOD specialists in DEVGRU were rare and were offered a place in the teams even with results that wouldn't be acceptable for other cadets. If they could improve some parameters, Sarcisian would be a perfect candidate for the groups.

"Leon Arnold, thirty-two. Third generation of seals. The first one to make it to the Green Team. But his grandfather is…"

"Admiral Arnold." Adam nodded, sensing problems.

"Yeah. It would be him. He is good and he knows it. Cadets listen to him and follow his example. He is well-prepared for everything."

"Spenser." Madson pointed to the blond kid, young, significantly smaller than the others, that was passing the O-course like he owned the place. Madson's voice was full of disgust. "Little PNG was able to get there somehow. Contrary to all regulations and common sense, I must add." Dan paused.

"Is he any good? Looks awfully young." Adam didn't know what to think. He despised the older Spenser, and didn't want to have anything in common with him after what he had done. But could he put the guilt on his kid? He was an instructor, not the judge or a priest.

"Nothing special about him. Loner, full of attitude. Has nothing to offer except troubles. I'll give him two more weeks until he runs crying to his daddy."

"Really, Dan?" Adam gestured at the kid, who just finished the course with the second-best result in a group. "Not bad, if you ask me."

"Running would do him good. The better he runs, the further he will be when we kick him out of there."

Adam frowned, but didn't object. His old friend was famous for his stubbornness. If he made up his mind about something, there was almost nothing that could make him change it.

Two weeks have passed since that conversation and the kid is still there. Thinner, faster, sharper, shitty attitude blowing full force. He mouthed off to the Big Chief over the simulation with a false hostage. Adam expected the senior instructor to put Spenser in his place with a few well-aimed words, a reprimand, maybe. What he didn't expect is an approving grin and an almost proud look on the face of the Chief the moment the bucket lowered over the cadet's head for the second time. What the hell?

Guys from the teams started coming, observing the training exercises from time to time, listening to the gossip, talking to the instructors. And it was obvious for Adam who were the most interesting candidates. Spenser was catching their attention instantly, and then the immediate aversion followed after the name was mentioned. Not that Adam could blame them. There were many promising cadets to choose from. Cadets without attitude and doubtful moral values which were imprinted by father-PNG.

It was late Friday night, and Adam was in a hurry. They just have finished rimming through the personnel files of cadets, looking for some skills needed for Bravo's future mission. Amanda Ellis insisted that there was a cadet who worked for her boss earlier. But said boss wasn't available at the moment to give her the name. So, Adam spent the last three hours looking and came with nothing. He wanted to go home, kiss the already sleeping Hannah, and spend some time with his wife. But first he needed to finish with Spenser.

Clay has been punished for his stunt on the simulation that day. The kid still got the result, but made it in such a reckless way, skated so close to injuring another cadet, that Adam felt his blood boiling just remembering this. The hot white fury was there when Adam grabbed an annoying kid the moment he stepped out from the training area, shook him hard, not allowing to say anything. That Adam was regretting. But he was regretting neither the hard tongue-lashing he gave Spenser, nor the assigning the exhausting task to scrub the floors with a toothbrush. The kid needed to be put down a peg or two and Adam did it, quite literally, by putting him on his hands and knees to the toilet floor. And Seaver refused to remember the look of defeated acceptance in the kid's eyes, and then the sad knowing smirk that Clay had sent his way just before Adam slammed the toilet's door to his face.

The base was silent. Almost all were glad to change the working duties to domestic routines or some boozy activities. Adam relates to the first, and understands the second. So, he was surprised to see Ray and Full Metal standing in the empty corridor, gloomy expressions on their faces. But before Adam was able to make a sound, the two seals gestured to him to be silent and listen.

"... will be enough to get rid of your ugly face."

"Speaking of ugliness, McAdams." Spencer's voice, full of his usual attitude, was well-recognizable and Adam frowned - the kid was supposed to work on his assignment, not chit-chatting with teammates. But the instructor didn't have time to react, as Spenser continued. "Using your supposed friend to get rid of the competition is a new level of low. Do you realize that Yasper could be hurt today? Seriously hurt. And, Yasper, are you that stupid to let them talk you to it?"

There wasn't any answer, just some noises and muffled grunts of pain. Seaver made a step towards the door, but was stopped by Metal's hand on his shoulder. "We need to find out what's going on." Whispered Ray and for Seaver it was like an alternative reality. Ray Perry, who didn't stop the conflict? Really?

"You made him change his quadrant, pittin in my line of fire, almost fall from the second floor and just hoped I would be able to catch him? You are crazy, Yasper, to even count on it. Why did you count on it? Wasn't it you who put gravel in my boots yesterday before the running?"

"Come on, pussy! It was fun to see how you tried to stop and fix it and how Chief Madson kept telling you to quit pretending and work like the others. Took you some time to man it up. Not on the top of the class anymore, are you? How are you even walking today?" Yasper's voice, despite the words, sounded slightly shaken, it seemed that he only now realized all the danger of his antics today.

"The thing is, Spenser, there wasn't any risk." 'Arnold' mouthed Adam to Ray, shaking his head in disbelief. "My brother was under your command in Chalk Alpha. Wouldn't shut up about boy wonder and what he is capable of. Told me you saved his life more than once, told me what you did during the capture. I know a lot about you, Spencer, I know you. You would do everything for the teammate, no matter what. You did this for Jack despite all the shit he was doing to you before that. You wouldn't allow anything to happen to Yasper. Still think someone would accept you here, cry-baby? Pathetic. You are just that damaged. That needy."

Full Metal shifted from foot to foot, worked his jaw.

"Some big assumptions you've made there. Hope you are better than this in your usual life, when you are not so busy playing asshole." Clay's voice was cold, almost indifferent.

The flash hit flash with an unexpected sound. They all used to fist fights that were made to prove a point, but slap across the face was something different, made to disgrace and humiliate.

There was a derisive chuckle and the kid's voice, that didn't lose any cockiness, sounded sure and even "Keep your calm, McAdams, you are too eager to lick Arnold's ass. Hope his granddaddy Admiral will boost your career?"

More shuffling and grunts of pain followed.

"You think you are so clever, Spencer." Hearing Sarcisian's voice was surprising. This cadet seemed rather self-absorbed, and wasn't a part of any group that Adam knew. "Think you could keep distracting us before Seaver came to your rescue? Let me tell you something, buddy, he wants nothing to do with you. The voting for the bottom five is going on till Monday and we have talked to everyone in the Green Team, our message clear. And after today's little play no instructor would vote for you to stay. You are done, Spenser. Done. Lost case to everyone, just like your daddy dearest."

"Good to know that DEVGRU would receive the best." For the first time there is poorly hidden defeat in the kid's voice, that is obvious despite the usual self-assured mockery. And this time it's Ray who makes a step to the door, even before they heard the sounds of another short fight, and this time it's Adam who stops him with an outstretched hand. Fury evident in the eyes of the instructor, fingers clenched to the fists, but there is a sick feeling in the gut, there is need to know more.

They understand that there wouldn't be much physical harm done to Clay, that would be too hard to hide or explain. But if the cadets would manage to finish their trick with bottom five, it would hurt Clay in more ways that could be thought of. And it would hurt the brotherhood on more levels they dared to think about.

The fight stops just as suddenly as it started, sounds changed to panting, pained moans and more shuffling.

"No, no, you would stay right where you belong. On your knees, looking up at your betters. What would you say if we would make things a little more interesting for you?" McAdams' voice sounded conversational, almost pleasant.

"I would say that you are repeating yourself. This again?" Spenser's voice was strangely superior. "Guys, you would need to be more creative to impress the groups."

"Don't give me this shit, bitch. I heard you screaming three nights in a row from nightmares after we used this last time. Bad memories, huh? Or maybe good? Bet your ugly scars were burning similarly. Did you become horny when you were receiving them?" Arnold was practically hissing, all pleasantry forgotten. Adam's eyes widened a little, he didn't know about any scars.

"You have some perverted understanding of it, you know? Ask your brother what is was felt like to be whipped by hostiles in some hellhole and don't ever mix it with your sexual fantasies." There is anger now, and besides that, a good portion of fear. And Ray would hate himself later for allowing it to happen. But now with every passing minute the truth about these Green Team cadets was becoming more clear and more alarming. This wasn't the people anyone at the groups would like to name brothers.

"I don't want to know how it feels to be weak. My grandfather is so proud of him even after Jack told about what happened during his captivity. He wasn't even able to free himself, needed some brat to take his ass out. He is nothing but some weakling. And you are nothing but the disgrace to the Navy, Baby Spenser. And we would clean it from you. Watch it."

The meaning of last warning was lost to the eavesdropping seals, there was more shuffling, grunting of pain and then the gleam voice of Sarcisian "Bye-bye bitch. Have a good time explaining to Seaver why it's dirtier now then at the beginning."

"And take a shower before returning to the barracks, you are disgusting." Smirked Arnold.

Without a word Full Metal and Ray simultaneously stepped further to the shadows of the far corner and Adam didn't have any other choice but to follow them.

They looked at the backs of five chatting and laughing cadets who left the toilet, exchanged glances, entered the room and instantly regretted it. They should have waited, should have given the kid some time to compose himself.

He is still half laying on the floor, back to the door, one arm awkwardly holding the ribs, while he tries to push himself up with the other. He can't see, but definitely hears them enter. The moment passed, and guys could literally hear how protective barriers fall down with a clang and clatter. Clay stands up with one smooth movement and turns to the newcomers, an arrogantly challenging expression on his face. Eyes on guard, muscle tensed. He is definitely waiting for a harsh dressing down. And if Adam didn't hear what he heard earlier, or didn't see that the kid was hurting, there would be one hell for the cadet to pay for such a poor job. But now Seaver just doesn't know what to say or do without disclosing their earlier eavesdropping.

Full Metal gave a low whistle, looking at the mess. There is dirt and contents of trash cans on the floor, but it wasn't what made the guys suppress the urge to grimace and swear. There was piss on the floor and on Spenser's clothes. It really was disgusting, just like Arnold said, but by "it" the older men mean the attitude of the five cadets.

The pause was too long, the evening was too much like a night now and Spenser was too exhausted and emotionally drained to care about who else he would be in trouble with, or what the consequences for his failure would be. The skin where Arnold and his lackeys put the spray was burning, shoulder muscles that he strained while catching Yasper, were painfully tense, he was hurting simply everywhere. But the worst was the understanding that it was the end. On Monday the results of voting for the bottom five will be put on the board for everyone to see and it would be the last nail to the coffin of his goal. His dream would remain just that - the dream, stupid fantasy of an unloved damaged boy who dared to aim too high. These thoughts were running wild, pounding in the ears, bringing the headache, sending shivers from hot or cold, it was hard to understand, blurring the vision at the edges. Clay refused to think that it was tears. He wasn't some weakling and he sure as hell wasn't a victim.

"Spenser, care to explain what happened there?" Adam found his voice and was waiting for the answer, looking at the kid. In the unforgiving fluorescent light the kid's disheveled state is painfully obvious. Messy hair, wet and smelly clothes, rigid posture. Spenser attempts to stand attention, face unreadable, split lip, a clear trace of a hard slap across the cheek. His hands dropped loosely to his sides and the bloodied knuckles told the seals that the kid went down fighting.

"Spenser? Are you ok? Do you need a medic?" Ray's careful tone shook Seaver from his stupor and he noticed the strange absence of the answer from the kid. He didn't move, eyes glassy, staring at something that clearly was not here.

"Adam, Ray, step back a little." Metal was talking low and calm, like fearing that sudden move or sound would break the kid. Not waiting for them to comply, knowing that they would trust him when asked to, Alpha One turned all his attention to the kid that was clearly in the middle of something in his head.

"Spenser, I need your help right now. Are you up for the mission?"

Blue eyes shifted and concentrated on the man, blinked. Metal was sure that Clay couldn't tell who he was, but it seemed that the magic words "help" and "mission" did the trick. It really did, it wasn't about him anymore, it was about something or someone else. He was needed, so Clay pushed the roaring headache to the backseat, put all the aches and burning pain on his back on pause till he would be able to take care of it and forced his brain to work.

"Yes, sir." The voice was hoarse, throat incredibly tight, but that will do. It was the best he could offer anyway.

"Ok, that's good. But first I need you to tell me what's hurt."

"Sir?" Spenser clearly couldn't understand the demand. Why would someone ask him this? Why was it important if he was hurt, he has told that he was ok already, hasn't he? Maybe not, so Clay frowned, repeated.

"I'm fine, sir"

"Stop calling me sir, kid. I hate this. It's Full Metal. And I asked you a question."

All he got was the bewildered gaze of unfocused, impossibly wide blue eyes.

"Ok, that's it" Grunted Metal and continued with a more commanding, but still soft voice. "Do not move. That's an order. Understood?"

"Yes, s… Full Metal."

"Good." Metal nodded, stepped slightly aside and with one swift move lifted the back of Clay's shirt, kid jerked, inhaled sharply, but didn't move. After a few seconds of staring, Metal much more carefully lowered the fabric back in place.

"He needs to go to the infirmary. Shut up, Spenser, do not make me drag you. Considering your condition it wouldn't even be a challenge. Infirmary, now."

That seemed to return Clay to reality.

"I didn't finish my assignment. Master Chief Seaver ordered to…" Clay's cheeks became red with humiliation and he averted eyes and pointed awkwardly to the toothbrush that lay forgotten on the floor in the pool of yellow liquid. Adam grimaced - they couldn't just leave the mess as it was.

"Finish it now." Seaver said it more harshly than he intended and Clay winced slightly. Bravo Two shot Adam a disapproving glance, not voicing his disagreement, though. But Adam didn't finish yet. "Use the proper brush and do it quickly."

They watched as Spenser was pushing his body to move with visible effort. Perry muttered something about being not above helping and his rank wasn't so high, and grabbed the mop, Metal not far behind. Ray could put his monthly salary on that the kid didn't even realize that they were there, nor what they were doing.

Fifteen minutes later the room returned to acceptable state and Adam decided that it was enough. He catched Spenser by the bicep and cringed - the kid was shaking and radiating with heat. Fever? It would explain sluggish reactions and clumsy uncoordinated moves.

"To the infirmary, Clay. That's an order. I'll be there soon to check on you." Adam's voice is soft. He wants to talk to the kid. He wants answers, and he would get them, that's for sure. But right now Spenser needs medical attention and rest. And Adam needs to figure out what to do with his recent discovery. And he can't do it alone. So, a few phone calls are necessary.

Clay left, slightly limping and swaying, Ray and Metal nearby, ready to catch the stupid kid if he would finally lose the battle with his own body.

When Seaver came to the infirmary, it's almost an hour later, and he was surprised to see Ray and Metal were still there, sitting in the uncomfortable chairs outside one of the rooms. At his questioning look Ray nodded at the door.

"The kid is sleeping. I must say, he would give Sonny a run for his money when it comes to not wanting to admit the injuries or stay at the infirmary. Took some persuasion from Metal for Clay to allow Doc to put him on IV."

"What Doc says?"

"High fever, bruising all over the torso and legs, too extreme to be caused by training, mind you, sprained shoulder and neck muscles, sore feets, some wounds are still bleeding, second-degree burns on the back from pepper spray. Him having a fever and some scrapes on the back made it worse. Doc wants to observe him for the next 48 hours. So this weekend Spenser will spend there." While speaking, Metal doesn't look at Adam, and Seaver feels uncomfortable.

"He told something?"

"Nothing, if you don't count the bullshit about being uncareful at exercising. Seems to me that kid is preparing to pass SERE" Ray tries to joke, but it sounds lame even to his own ears.

Metal nodded, "Yeah, about that. What are you going to do about the bottom five voting?"

"I've called Big Chief, and asked some questions regarding the rules. Turns out, everyone on the base could vote. It's not common, but not forbidden. So, there would be me and Big Chief on the kid's side. Not sure if it will be enough."

"I'm voting too." Metal said with finality. "I don't know the kid, but I know that I hate the dirty scums. I would vote not for the Spenser junior, but for the spirit of fair play."

"If you put it this way…"

"Exactly this way, Perry. And stop smiling at me." Metal looked at his friend smirking, eyebrow arched.

"Sure thing, brother, sure thing." Ray knew better than catching Alpha One on his little lie. Suddenly, Ray remembered something.

"Metal, you saw his back. Was there anything that was mentioned by Arnold?"

"There are many scars." Scott sighed. "Too many if you ask me. Whip marks are there too. And yeah, they are not pretty, the scarring is vivid. Must be hard for someone this young. How old is he? Not even thirty-five?"

"Not even twenty-five. Twenty-three to be accurate." Pointed Adam, smiled at the confused faces of his friends. "Yeah, exactly my reaction. Age limitations were waived for him to join the Green Team. Some upper brass considered his skills solid enough to pass the training. And they weren't wrong. He could easily top the rating. But the last results are significantly worse. I thought that the kid burned out, or got tired, or didn't push himself hard enough. Now I know better. I just don't know what to do with this situation." Adam rubbed his neck, annoyance and tiredness battling on his face.

"Go home and rest, Adam. There will be plenty of time to decide. You can't do anything if Spenser doesn't fill the official complaint. Which I feel he wouldn't." Metal's voice sounded indifferent, but for those who know him as well as his brothers do, it was obvious that the man was quite unhappy with all this.

"Does the kid need any help to improve his results? I could give him some pointers on shooting." Ray offered impulsively, surprising even himself, and Adam laughed.

"Oh no, he doesn't need that sort of help. He is already better at shooting than you or any of our instructors. The same goes for running and believe me when I say he had an absolutely amazing mind, never saw anyone who looks at the situation like he does. What he really needs is to have someone in his corner. If what we witnessed today is any indicator, there is more of this shit going on a daily basis. Can't imagine how it is."

Adam shook hands with the guys and left. Ray wanted to stay, but Metal basically pulled the rank and told him to go to his wife and daughter. Then Alpha One silently entered the Spenser's room and put himself to the chair in the corner, doing what they always do when one of them is in the hospital. Full Metal didn't know what to think about the kid. Alpha this year wasn't going to draft anyone, so they didn't put a lot of attention to the cadets. But it seems that now they have to. Like he said earlier, it wasn't only about the kid, but also about the Brotherhood.

He would be a liar saying that Spenser didn't spark some interest even before Adam's praising speech. The kid obviously had the backbone, could handle himself in tough situations and if what they had heard about his past was half true, believed in the values of Brotherhood, was wired with them. But there was this attitude that just doesn't match with everything else. And there was his father's legacy and lessons that the kid didn't have a chance not to learn.

A few hours later, after the nurse had disconnected the IV and checked the patient's vitals, the muffled moans of distress woke Metal from his slumber. The older man moved closer, ready to wake Spenser if needed to. Now Alpha One could take a closer look at the kid. And the kid was accurate. He laid shirtless on his side, one arm awkwardly under the cheek, brows furrowed, messy blond curls, dark bruises that marked too prominent ribs. Wires of muscles looked almost foreign on this kid along with raised scarring and few dark tattoos. Metal before didn't see anything like these symbols, that were wrapping around kid's biceps making wide bracelets and a strange creature right below left collarbone. Spenser made a sudden movement, moaning softly, stirred. Fooled by the appearance, or maybe too sure of himself, Metal put his hand on the kid's forearm, shook slightly, trying to help to get rid of the nightmare. And the world shifted.

In a second Metal was on his back on the floor, wrist twisted in a surprisingly strong grip, Spenser's knee to his neck, pushing not hard enough to do any damage, but enough to efficiently cut the air. Blue eyes alert and unseen at the same time. Kid's mouth moved, words urgent and demanding, and totally incomprehensible, language unknown to Metal. Spenser's injuries were instantly forgotten, Alpha One reacted on instinct. His free hand shot up trying to push the lighter man off, but caught the already bruised cheek with a loud sound, Clay hissed, moved with the momentum and grabbed Metal from behind in a perfect choke hold. Alpha One groaned, tried to shake the kid off, failed and relaxed. Clay's hold also became lighter, breath uneven, words calmer. Then it's like a switch turned on, kid tensed, drop the hold of Metal with pained 'fuck' and step back. Scott slowly got to his feet and turned to the cadet. He was grabbing the bed railing with white knuckles, shaking from returning awareness or more probably pain, Metal couldn't tell for sure, eyes huge, tracking every move of the other man, nose and the cut on the cheekbone are now bleeding freely.

"Did I do this?" Kid's hand pointed at Metal's neck, red and sore. Alpha One nodded, still eying the young man carefully, then grinned, eyes sparkling.

"Not bad for a guy just from the hospital bed. How about next time we take it to the gym? By the way, you better wash your face and return to said bed before nurse Ruth comes and kicks my ass for upsetting her patient. She doesn't really love me as it is."

Clay grinned, forcing himself to relax, brought a hand to his face, looked at the red liquid on his fingers confused, then shrugged and went to the sink at the next wall.

"Nurse Ruth is ok, never smothering you with care. Better than nurse Emma, who always tries to force-feed you with the soup or hot cocoa. Who drinks hot cocoa in the summer anyway? Or nurse Tali, who stores countless blankets on you."

Metal laughed at this. Seems the kid revokes parental, or in the nurses' case, grand parental instincts without even trying. Funny as it was the same kid who put the trained Tier One operator on the floor in mere seconds. Of course, only by taking him by surprise.

"Come here often?" Metal wasn't able to stop the question and regretted it instantly, as Clay, who lowered himself to the bed, averted his eyes and stopped smiling at once.

"Not really. Not more often than others. By the way, not to sound rude, but why are you here?"

"Because you are here. Adam needed to go home, so I stayed." Metal sounded like it explained everything, and for him it did. But not for the kid, judging by the incredulous look that he had shot at Metal before returning to stare at the bedsheet.

"Huh? You don't have to stay." The defeated 'no-one ever did' remained unsaid but Metal still heard it loud and clear.

"Stop talking nonsense and rest. Do you need any pain meds?" After their little interaction, the kid's injuries must have hurt like hell.

"No, it's ok. Going to sleep. No need to stay, Sir." Clay stopped at the glare of Alpha One, sighed, accepting defeat. "Good night, Full Metal."

"Night, sparrow."

Half an hour later Metal opened his eyes and there was nurse Ruth, smiling, putting a blanket on his lap, the cup of tea on the nightstand near him. Strange thing, nurse Ruth never smiled, just barked orders even better than Alpha One himself.

"Good that someone actually started to look after him. This is the first time he isn't alone here." The older woman took a look at the sleeping kid, then turned to Metal. "He is a good boy, strong and caring. He needs someone to start paying attention. And I'm not only talking about his time here."

Scott nodded, took his tea and leaned back in the chair. They were so intended to do their job at the highest standard overseas that sometimes they forgot about other things. It was time for all of them to pay more attention to what's going on closer to home.

"He was talking in some language or maybe not a language…" Metal still felt uncomfortable, like a troublesome child, but he needed to tell her this piece of information. "I don't know, maybe he was delirious?"

"Oh, his fever is high enough to mess with anyone's head, but that's not the case. Must be one of the African local dialects. Clay grew up there." Woman paused, thinking, clearly assessing Metal's intentions, then set her mind. "I was a friend of his grandmother, we were working at the same hospital. Then her husband, a college professor, decided to move to Liberia to work as a missionary. We kept in touch till their death. Fran, his grandma, was so proud of him. By six he was talking Spanish and French, writing in English freely, doing math on the middle-school level. Fran was really considering moving back to the States to provide him with better tutoring. But they never managed. Were killed by terrorists. I thought Clay was dead too. I was so shocked, my dear friend, and Clay, he was no older than seven. Couldn't believe it when I saw him here."

It was obvious to Metal that Ruth was upset remembering this, but something in this story didn't add up.

"But why? Why would you think that the kid was dead, when his grandparents were killed in Africa? Was he visiting at the time? Not a great place for a child to visit if you ask me." Metal knew too well what a place it is. Saw it too many times.

Ruth stared at Metal for a moment, and Alpha One caught himself on the fact that he unconsciously squeezed into a chair. Seemed that whatever magic it was, it was wearing down. The kind fairy grandmother had disappeared and he was looking in the eyes of a very irritated nurse Ruth that could order around the toughest seals without a problem.

"Visiting?" She almost hissed. "No, his bastard father sent him to live there after Samantha, Clay's mother, had died. Clay was barely four years old. I know that he returned to the USA, enlisted. But how he survived in Africa after his grandparents' death, I can't even imagine. It's not that I can ask, he doesn't know me and he is careful with his trust."

Ruth sighed, looking at Metal with a strange calculating look that made him shiver.

"You know, maybe this Brotherhood of yours would change this for him. He needs a family, Chief Carter." With that she left, leaving Metal with the sleeping kid.

Saturday morning is not the best time to go to work. Adam would prefer to spend some more time at home, but the pressure of Bravo's next mission and Amanda's confidence that there is something useful in the cadets' files, were the reasons he had planned to go to the base. And it was even before all this clusterfuck with Spenser happened. Now the need to go to the base and put things in order made him wake up insanely early, tossing and turning on the bed, watching the birth of the new day, unable to return to sleep. Vic, being the great wife for almost twenty years, just pushed him out of bed and returned to sleep with barely recognizable "Go and do what needs to be done. And don't you dare to miss supper."

Metal met him outside the Spenser's room, accepted a cup of coffee and donut, and demonstrated a prominent bruise on his neck with a smirk.

«Your kid isn't hopeless. Put me on my ass, barely awake and hurting."

Adam only raised eyebrows in return.

"Tried to wake him up. Did you know he grew up in Africa? Nurse Ruth doesn't know the details, but it turned out that Ash sent his son to live with his grandparents when the kid was about four. What kind of person would do it to his son? To any child? According to nurse Ruth, the kid is some kind of genius. Or maybe his grandmother was just overreacting. Ask Sonny's granny, and she will tell you that he walks on water, I'm sure."

But to Metal's awe, Adam was interested only in one part of his story. Strange.

"Grew up in Africa? Are you sure?" Seaver's voice was urgent.

"Yeah, kept bubbling something in an unrecognizable language. Nurse Ruth told me that he speaks language. Why? Adam!"

But instructor just told something strange like "fucking files" and hide behind the Spenser's door. Metal shrugged and followed. Whatever thought Adam might have had, it was connected to the kid. And Metal has already decided to find out more about the strange cadet with skills way above his age.

"Amanda, I've got you your strap… No, I didn't have a straight answer… Yeah, as sure as I could be… No, afraid Hayes wouldn't be happy." Adam ended the call and turned to Metal. "Coffee?"

"Yeah, and an explanation of what I've just heard."

Adam shrugged, recalling more than a strange conversation that he had with his cadet minutes ago. It was unsettling - the kid gave him straight answers for straight questions, like yes and no answers. Did he grow up in Africa? - Yes. Does he know Liberian local dialects? - Yes. Does he understand the current power play in the region? - Yes. Does he know how to navigate through the underground tunnels in Monrovia? - Yes. Could he explain the source of his knowledge? - No. How could they verify his words? - Сan't know, sir.

And all this with an even voice, unreadable expression on his face. Ray's joke about how it seems the kid was rehearsed SERE didn't look like a joke anymore.

Metal was still waiting for an answer and Adam sighed.

"I don't know, Scott. Miss Ellis was looking for a cadet with some set of skills. I think we just found him."

"Don't like it." Grunted Metal.

Bravo's mission was a success albeit barely. Adam was right in both his assumptions - yes, Clay Spenser has all skills needed and then some, and yes, Jason Hayes wasn't happy to see Ash Spenser's son as a strap in a high profile mission. And he didn't hesitate to make his unhappiness known from the beginning.

Adam met returning Bravo at the tarmac and was taken aback at the hurricane of emotions in the kid's eyes. Seaver couldn't put a name to them all, but anger and humiliation was clearly there, together with the ripped collar of Clay's shirt and blood on the right bicep. Spenser greeted his instructor, barely nodded to Bravo, and went to the base so quickly that it could be confused with escape. Trent yelled "And let the doc look at you" to his retreating back, but the kid didn't look back.

"Master Chief Hayes." Adam was ready to demand answers, but Hayes wasn't looking any better than the kid - eyes angry, tense pose and nasty bruise on the left side of his face.

"Make sure that little shit stays away from me. Away from the base would be even better." With these words, Jason left him standing under the hot sun, feeling more confused than angry now.

"Don't mind Jason. He will come to his senses soon." The warm voice of Ray suddenly near, the rest of the Bravo with him, all of them looking disheveled and slightly amused.

«What the hell Spenser did to put Jase on edge?"

"Oh, nothing special" Sonny chewed his toothpick, made a pause, smirked, "just saved Jason's life doing exactly what he was told not to do."

There was some nervous laughter from the team, and then Trent became serious. "Look, the kid didn't let me check him, put the bandage on himself. He needs to go to the Doc."

Seaver nodded, wanted to ask more questions, and thought that it would be better to have this conversation after everyone calmed down a little. He has a cadet who needs his attention first.

Two weeks have passed since the mission, and Jason is still fuming. Still cutting all the conversations where Spenser is mentioned, barked even at Ray for bringing up the subject. For everyone on the base the hostility is obvious, the possibility for Spenser to be drafted now even closer to unexisting than when the results of the voting were put on the board.

Clay Spenser was the penultimate in the list. Adam was watching as Clay let the sigh of collective discontent with more than a few well-aimed insults roll off his back, sat straighter, self-assured smirk even more unpleasant. The act was so good that Seaver felt a sudden urge to erase that grin with his fist. This feeling must have been reflected on his face, because the kid suddenly looked at him straight in the eyes and for the second there was hurt and uncertainty in those eyes, so intense that Adam felt like he was punched to the solar plexus. But then Clay composed himself, threw "not today, losers" to Arnold and his cohort, and left the mess tent.

It was right before the mission with Bravo, now the situation became worse.

Cadets couldn't forgive Spenser the op with the most desirable team, couldn't forgive that the mission ended good. The open dislike from the leader of Bravo was like a shining welcoming banner for the others to express their own dislike more openly.

Seaver wanted to address their behavior, maybe put it on their files himself, but was talked out of it. Adam must be staring at the new bruice on the kid's face far too long, because the next moment there is a grim face of the chief instructor in his line of view.

"Don't do it, Adam." Big Chief looked at the surprised face of his friend, smirked sadly. "I tried to bring the situation to Brass' attention. Was told that if Spenser has problems with the others, it's better to get rid of one problem cadet than rock the whole boat. We have Admiral Arnold's grandchild and PNG's son on the opposite sides. The outcome of the conflict is obvious to everyone." Sensing Adam's desire to object, Chief raised his hand. "All that we can do is make sure the kid gets the most from our training. You saw him, there are skills and talent, and I like to see that there is still the attitude and aspiration despite everything."

Adam could only nod, understanding the truth behind the cold words. Adam understands the need to train a group of candidates over one guy. But what kind of brothers would they be? And what could a cocky loner bring to the Brotherhood? Those were answers without questions.

Until there were some answers.

Bravo Two found Adam in his office the day of the shooting test.

"Decided to come earlier." Ray smiled and closed the door after himself. "Figured you would like to know what really happened on that mission between Jase and the kid. Or maybe Spenser told you already?"

"No, he shut down completely. I'm thinking that it's high time to start worrying."

The door opened again and Full Metal welcomed himself with a mischievous grin. "Hey, Perry. Finally decided to talk about op?" Metal took a seat and prepared to listen. But he wasn't prepared to hear the things that Ray told them.

When Ray stopped talking, there was silence for a few minutes.

"Ray, let me rephrase it, because I have a problem understanding all that you have said." Metal sounded slightly off. "Jason was more than out of himself trying to hurt the kid from the beginning. Then Spenser made some crazyass analysis and figured out that intel is unreliable and there could be a trap. Miss Ellis gone to investigate and Spenser gone to clean the weapons as a punishment. Then Jason left the kid outside alone, to guard the entrance, that didn't even need to be guarded, and all of the Bravo went to the tunnel and lost comms. That time Miss Ellis received the evidence that intel was faked, HAVOC tried to connect to Bravo, there wasn't an answer, and the only one with whom they could give the information was Clay."

Ray nodded and sighed.

"Yeah. Spenser found out that the tunnels were wired. He managed to find and alert the guys that captured Samir just on time. But me and Jase were deeper, so that took more time. The kid risked his life without a second thought. For me, for Jason, who was giving him shit. Jase went physical, shook the kid, you saw his ripped shirt and I'm sure that there were more than a few bruises under it. He told us about the situation and then the explosions started. We were separated while going to the exit. I barely managed to get it, Sonny pulled me the last meters."

Perry rubbed his face hard, smirked uneasily "We were outside, looking at the roaring tunnel full of dust and smoke, hoping despite there wasn't anything hopeful. And then there is the kid, dragging barely conscious Jason out."

"It looks like Spenser didn't do anything wrong." Metal waited for Ray's nod and continued. "Jason's attitude is telling everyone a different story."

"Hayes almost lost his guys in those tunnels. And he wasn't the one who saved them. They are alive due to sheer luck, and the fact that Spenser, from all of them, predicted those problems isn't helping. Could you blame him for being difficult?" Adam tried to placate Metal, despite feeling uneasy himself.

"I would say that if there would be any other guy on Spenser's place, Hayes would buy him a beer and be glad that the situation turned as it is." Metal shrugged. "Ok, Perry, are you ready to watch who is the best shooter among these cadets?"

"Do you think there would be any surprises?"

Turns out there was a surprise.

"MacAdams, Arnold, Spenser, Watson…" Fred, the chief shooting instructor, presented the results, preparing them to be put on the board for all cadets to see. There were snipers from all teams that were stateside, who now were looking at the instructor with some sort of surprise. Bravo, being a team of shooters, was there in full force, though Jason's presence has required some persuasion from Ray and Sonny.

"I was ready to bet that Spenser would outshoot them all. The gap from the best is not big, but still for him those results are poor." Mick, Charlie's sniper, was confused.

"Yeah, the long-distance shooting round was much better, but firing with a shotgun put him in third place." Fred shook his head. "Never saw such results from the kid."

"Maybe Spenser became too cocky and stopped to push himself? You should return him to the ground, Adam." Beau looked annoyed. He considered drafting Spenser, and was sure that he could shape him. But now, after the kid's op with Bravo, it seemed that even Hayes couldn't put Spencer in his place. So, Charlie wouldn't even bother to try.

Madson couldn't hold a snide comment, his dislike to PNG's son, who didn't quit after predicted three weeks, sparked with new force. "Yeah, little shit became too full of himself, shooting with his left hand. Probably decided to impress everyone with his skills and screwed up. Nothing new here."

Ray looked at the instructor, astonished. If it was true and the kid was shooting with his non-dominant hand, then the results were just that - impressive. But what could make the kid do it, and in the final test nonetheless? It sounded like something that could be done to show-off, but all that Ray knew about the kid didn't let him believe that was the case.

Bravo Two caught the same surprise that he was feeling himself in the eyes of Metal and the rest of Bravo. Except Jason, who looked like this new portion of information only cemented his opinion about Clay Spenser.

"Ok, we have wasted more than enough time. I would like to have some of my day off for myself." Jason grunted and left the room. The others followed.

"I'll be right after." Promised Ray to Trent. Their medic only nodded and went out.

Ray wasn't actually surprised when Metal and Big Chief also stayed. They didn't have time to tell anything else because there was a knock to the door and a nervous-looking Watson asked for permission to speak to Master Chief Seaver. After some words that nobody paid any attention to, there was the louder voice of Adam. "Al, there is no possibility of retaking the test. It's going straight to the rating."

The cadet seemed disappointed with this answer, and Fred tried to reassure him. "Hey, you have good results. There is no need to worry."

Watson looked like he wanted to say something, then just nodded and made an attempt to leave, but Big Chief stopped him midstep. "Did you want to know it for yourself? Or are you asking for someone else?"

"For Spenser." Al's voice was quiet, like he was ashamed of himself for caring.

"He could ask himself, why sent you?" Adam didn't believe that Spenser could send anybody anywhere, considering that he was a pariah among the cadets, but he wanted to hear what Al had to say.

"He wouldn't." Now Al was looking even more uncomfortable, eyes firmly on the floor. The pause was dragging on, but they waited. Experienced instructors knew how to deal with the cadets. Finally, Watson made a decision. "He didn't ask me. Nobody knows that I came here. I just prefer fair competition. And I don't have a problem with him being better than I. Especially when he has spent more than enough nights helping me with shooting."

"Spenser tutored you? Didn't know that you two are on a friendly basis." Metal asked, confused. Al grimaced.

"Nobody is on a friendly basis with the son of PNG. There are enough people who make sure of that. But he helps. And not only me. There are some guys who struggle with shooting or tactics. They came to Spenser, he never refused to help. The guys just pretend that it has never happened." Watson shrugged. "Don't know why Spenser just accepts it."

"You didn't tell why you are really here." Pointed Fred. "What happened today?"

"Spenser's hand. It was hurt, quite badly, just before the shooting test. He must have failed?" There was a poorly hidden concern in the cadet's voice, that softened the expression on Big Chief's face.

"No, he passed. Now go, you all have free time till the end of the day. Bet you are waiting for the trip to the bar." Fred grabbed the list with the results and made a sign for Al to go with him. "Come on. I need to put it on the board." Watson thanked the instructors and went with Fred.

"You didn't ask Watson about what happened to Spenser. Why?" Ray asked Adam, but it was Big Chief who answered him.

"The fact that Watson has decided to bring it to our attention is enough. Anything more would be like snitching. We wouldn't put a cadet in this position."

"So, not cockiness, then. Impressive results." Grunted Metal. "Need to find the kid. Doubt he would tell anything to the instructors."

"I'll go with you." Ray already was near the door with Metal. Big Chief nodded to them. Through the closing door Metal heard the voice of Big Chief "How had we allowed the situation to come to this, Adam?"

Full Metal was in his no-nonsense mood, so instead of wandering around the base hoping to stumble upon Spenser, Alpha One went to the security room. There were cameras in open areas of the base, and in twenty minutes they had the image of the kid entering the old boiler room in the most unused part of the building.

When they entered the room, it's dim lit, cool and dusty, the humming of boilers covering the noises. Spenser is sitting on the floor near the wall, head thrown back, eyes closed. All the posture is relaxed, even peaceful. Right elbow is resting on the bent knee and the hand is put into the bucket between the legs. Ray's best guess is that the bucket is filled with cold water. So, maybe Watson overreacted, and it's just a bruise. And Spenser just considered the injury too minor to go to the infirmary. They approached the kid and Metal sat near him without second thought. Ray went to the opposite wall and remained standing.

"Nice shooting, sparrow." Metal's voice is easy and conversational, unlike the narrowed eyes.

"Not my best round, I must admit." Spenser shrugged nonchalantly with one shoulder, obviously trying not to bother the hurt arm.

"What happened to your arm?" Perry's voice is soft and calm.

"Smashed it with the door. Clumsy." Spenser didn't open his eyes, the prepared answer rolled off easily.

"Don't give me this bullshit, kid." Smirked Metal, and, surprisingly, Spenser returned the smile barely cracking the eyes open, looked at the Metal, closed them again.

"Why the interest? It's not a big deal anyway." The tone light, but the lines of pain and exhaustion evident in the corner of his eyes, crusted blood on the bottom lip, like he was biting it hard enough to draw blood.

"You are dumber than I thought." Metal shrugged, ignoring the frown on Ray's face.

"There's only a week left. And SERE would take four days of said week. There is nothing to worry about."

"SERE is an unpredictable thing, the tougher guys break from time to time." It was intended to be a warning, not a disregarding comment, but the kid's self-assured calm demeanor is so out of place that it gets on Ray's nerves. "The SERE instructors know how to deal with insolence. You wouldn't like it, believe me, they would break you."

"Maybe." Clay suddenly opened his eyes and, sliding the back along the wall, raised to his feet without breaking eye contact. "Tougher guys tried before. So, I think we'll just wait and see, Chief Perry."

The kid is polite and calm, and Ray feels slightly nauseous at the sight of a swollen bloodied hand with many black and purple welts. The sound of water dropping to the floor, loud and unsetting in the sudden silence.

Then there is Full Metal, rising to his feet, with care that Ray didn't see in him before, taking the wrist of an injured hand, looking at the kid with an odd mix of fondness and anger. "Jammed at the door? I see. One time wasn't enough? Could be broken."

"No, the pain would be different, and the mobility is intact. Just bruised. It's ok." The kid looked uncomfortable until Metal rotated the hand and looked at the much less damaged (despite the bloodied knuckles) flash. Then his face became hot with embarrassment.

"Stick?" Metal pretended to not notice the kid's rapid breathing and alarmed eyes. Clay stared for a moment from Ray to Metal, then huffed.

"Door a few times, then belt… buckle. That's why I'm sure that there is no lasting damage." The kid's voice is calm, but he isn't able to see the eyes of the men, looking anywhere but them.

"Someone wanted you to fail the test that badly?" Ray found his voice and now wanted to see if the kid was ready to give a straight answer, but the little smartass only smirked in return.

"Apparently someone is not able to appreciate the fair play." Clay shrugged one more time, took his hand from Metal's grip, lifted the bucket and emptied it to the sink. "All that is not worth your time, sir."

"Oh no, sparrow, I'll be the judge of it." Metal almost hissed, yanked the empty bucket from the kid's hand, threw it to the side of the room, where it collided with the wall with loud noise. Ray sighed - the situation spiraled out of control. Metal's temper was even more infamous than Quinn's. But this temper obviously didn't bother the kid, who just took out the gauze from his pocket and started to bandage the hand like the other seals weren't even there.

Alpha One was looking turned between the urge to help and desire to beat some sense to the kid himself. Dangerous combination that clearly showed that Scott cares. Ray smoothly put himself between Metal and Clay, gently taking the gauze from the kid's hand.

"You don't want to go to the infirmary, I get it. But you need to have it checked. We could ask Trent." Seeing that Spenser is ready to protest, Ray placates him. "Unofficially, no questions asked. If you want to pass SERE, it's better to be in the best shape possible."

The untrusting look on Clay's face was unnerving, and for a second the older men were sure that the kid would clam shut and refused, but the mention of passing SERE must have been the right thing to say. Slowly, Clay exhaled and nodded. Ray smiled, relaxing a little.

"Everything will be fine. Just let me call Trent."

"Today greenies are finishing the SERE. You are playing the liberators." Lisa grinned at Bravo. They were on their way home from a short and successful mission, so the spirits were high. "You will need your gear."

"When the kid passes, we draft him?" Surprisingly, it's Sonny who asks the question.

Jason grimaced "If, not when, Sonny. If Spenser passes, I'll think about it. There are many much more worthy candidates."

"He is the best, Jason." Ray speaks softly, almost expecting his CO to blow up any second.

"He isn't, and you know it, Ray. You saw the rating himself. In the top five, yes. But it is far from the best. And I wouldn't put my money on him passing SERE. The kid could be dragged along the course by his father's name, but passing SERE requires strength and willpower that smartass don't have."

"A bet? I like the idea. Twenty on the kid passing." Trent sounds slightly angry.

"Why not?" Jason shrugged, eying his usually calm medic with surprise. "Who am I to say no to easy money?"

So there was the bet. Surprisingly, Hayes was the only one betting against the kid passing the SERE. Even Mandy, with her enigmatic smile, put her fifty to the pool, leaving Jason with clear 'what the fuck?' on his face. The question, "What about you people and this little PNG?"

Trent was nervous all the way back. Brock, being his best friend, caught the mood and ordered Cerb not to leave Bravo Four's side, which the dog gladly obeyed. So now Trent was sitting in the back of the plane, scratching the ears of his four-legged teammate and thinking.

"Hey, Trent. Everything is fine?" The quiet voice of Brock made him open his eyes. Besides Brock, there were Sonny and Ray, all with cans of beer in their hands. Ray offered one, Trent hesitated for a moment, then took it and made a few big gulps.

"Not really. Can't shake off the image of Spense when I look at his hand."

"After the shooting test?" Sonny didn't hear the story.

"Yeah. Wasn't broken, but bruised and swollen to the point he barely was able to bend his fingers. Turns out that other cadets tried to make him fail the test. I don't like the idea of them becoming Bravo Six." Trent grimaced, making another sip. "And don't like the idea of a kid failing just because of his father and a bunch of backstabbers."

"During SERE, it would be only his skills that matters. No one could sabotage the results." Brock sounded slightly off, like he was thinking hard. "Hope he will be able to do it."

Sonny huffed, chewed his toothpick harder than necessary, asked in an uneasy tone. "Are we sure that the kid didn't make it up just to cover some sort of stupid stunt or trying to earn himself some brownie points?"

Ray shifted from foot to foot, debated with himself if telling the guys about the toilet incident would be a good idea, but Trent didn't give him the opportunity.

"Spenser wasn't looking for sympathy. On the contrary, tried to look like he doesn't need anything from anyone, like he is ready to face everything, immune to all hurt that is possible."

"Hence the shitty attitude. Coping mechanism." Brock spoke confidently and with a touch of relief, like a man who had solved a problem that was getting on his nerves. "Think the SERE instructors would appreciate it even less than Jase."

"The kid has pretty high pain tolerance, tends to run his mouth without break when he is hurt or uncomfortable. Saw it myself. That could be good, but more likely it would be a problem." Trent shrugged. "Think we will see the results soon."

It wasn't a comfortable feeling, to just wait. For the first time in many years Adam felt this nervous about leaving a cadet to that part of the course without being able to look for him. Seaver knew that the SERE instructors would have everything under control, and wouldn't let their personal opinion of the cadet mess with the training. It was the hard job, to be violent, create a scene, make it real and stop just on the edge, newer overstepping.

Johns, the chief SERE instructor, gave Adam the hard look and motioned to the door. That was right after Adam had given his cadets, already locked at the cages, the usual speech about rules and expectations at the beginning of the training.

"The hell, Seaver? There wasn't any mention about someone in this group having previous captivity experience. You know that we are extra attentive to those cadets."

"What are you talking about, Gal?" Adam understood why Gal Johns was displeased - he really didn't tell anything about Spenser's past. Partly because of the source of this information. But mostly because it was supposed to be in the personal files that were given to the SERE instructors for preparation. And the fact that there obviously wasn't anything, was worrisome to put it mild.

"I'm talking about the kid's back. Didn't you see it, Adam? What the fuck? What else had been done to him? What should I expect - full-blown PTSD during the interrogation? Mental breakdown in the middle of waterboarding? Seizures provoked by noise stimulation? I need to know to be prepared."

"Nothing, Gal. You expect nothing. Just do what you would usually do. And for Clay's sake, I hope it would be enough for others to recognize him as a worthy candidate to be a Tier One."

"The situation is really such a fuck-up? I've heard rumors about him, you know? Looks like it's time to see for myself how many of them are true. Ok, so, no special treatment and extra cautions? Is that what you suggest?"

"That's what I ask for, Gal." Adam's look is grim, and Johns nods. He understands the need to prove himself. And it was looking like the kid really needed it, even if it would be just for Spenser himself.

Four days have passed, and Adam, who wasn't allowed in the training, now was listening to the shots of dummy rounds like it was some sort of music. Soon. Soon he would know for sure what his cadets were made of. And then there would be debriefs with other instructors, and they would know even more.

"You should be proud." Gal leaned to the wall near Adam, leaving the other instructors to participate in the liberating part. It was the first time in four days he was able to talk to Seaver about his group. "Only three guys have tapped. Others were holding rather well."

Seaver nodded and just waited for Gal to continue.

"The kid is good. Better than good, actually. Calm, level-headed, impressive pain tolerance." Johns paused, sighed, "I don't want to even start thinking about who or how had taught the kid to be that stoic. We almost got things too far. Returned to our senses only by the look at his scars and fresh marks. And that's what happens when we are unprepared, Seaver. Make sure that it will never happen again."

"I will." Adam met the tired eyes of his friend with calm determination. "This group has opened my eyes that there is time to start to pay more attention to the cadets. And I'm really intent on making changes."

"Good." Gal smiled. "I can hear that Bravo just finished their work. Come on, now you can see your graduates."

When they entered the poorly lighted hangar, almost all of the cadets were already free from their previous locations, had blankets on their shoulders and were helped to the exit. Adam was congratulating the passing cadets, shook hands, gave praises and encouraging smiles. Greenies looked like shit - dirty, exhausted, slightly bruised but proud, victorious. And Seaver felt proud, too. He looked at how Hayes shook hands with liberated cadets, what impact it made on the candidates.

Then there was the last location - the room with three metal barrels. The last three. Bravo took disoriented guys one by one, and then there was Spenser. Hayes outstretched his hand when Brock and Trend helped another cadet out of the barrel, like he has done numerous times already without even thinking, and then there was mutual recognition. Jason pulled off immediately, turned his back to the cadet, the role of liberator forgotten. There is barely audible "Really, Jase?" from Sonny. But the kid only smirked in return, nodded his thanks to the other Bravo, who also moved further after their leader the moment Spenser's legs were on the ground, and wobbled to the exit.

Adam saw as Clay made it almost to exit when the wave of dizziness caught him hard and made him grip the door handle for balance.

For Trent it took merely seconds to go from enjoying himself to being frustrated and angry. He really wanted to give Hayes a piece of his mind, opened his mouth already, but then saw as Jason's eyes widened and the whole pouse tensed. The leader of Bravo just shook hands with the last cadet, who couldn't stand by himself, leaning full weight on Sonny's arms, and now was looking at something, expression dark and calculating.

Bravo Four looked at what caught the attention of his CO and cursed. Gal Johns was helping the kid out, putting the kid's battered and scarred torso for everyone to see, while Adam came to assist Sonny with the last cadet.

"The hell, Adam?" Jason almost hissed, but stumbled under the unapproving gaze of Seaver.

"It's precisely my line, Hayes. Care to explain? No? Thought so." With this word Adam switched all his attention to the last cadet and with soft "Easy, Watson. You did good." helped him to the exit.

"Metal offered a trip to the bar today." Sonny's voice has cut the thick silence. "I'm in."

"Yeah, me too." Brock exchanged glances with Trent and Quinn and Ray could swear that there was some plan forming. Hayes nodded almost automatically, gaze still glued to the now empty door.

Bravo Two knew that there would be a lot of alcohol and even more talking today. There would be Metal and Adam, which would lead to even more heated conversation. There would be angry Trent, and sarcastic Sonny, and calm and reasonable Brock. And Ray hoped they could convince Hayes to pick the guy everyone already saw as their new little brother. But if concern, respect, and something more impenetrable in his old friend's eyes were any indication, Ray knew it wouldn't really be such a difficult task.