AN: I'm neck-deep in final assignments for school, so apologies for not updating my current WIPs. I promise I haven't forgotten about them, or you all. However, after watching the promo for 3x19, my muse attacked me and demanded I write this speculative drabble. Please note this was written and posted before "In the Blind" aired. Stay safe!

Summary: Sometimes, it can be hard to know what you're fighting for, when the war you've been fighting you whole life seemingly comes to its end.

What am I fighting for?

This question ran through Jason's mind at a million miles a minute. It circles in his brain like an Afghan sandstorm. It rings between his ears like a siren that carries in the air before the storm actually arrives. He hears it in his voice, then in Ray's voice… Trent's, Metal's, Brock's. Eventually Clay's voice creeps in. Hell, he even heard those five little words in Sonny's voice, and Sonny is thousands of miles away from them.

Through it all, Bravo One can't help but question…

Is this what it's all come to?

The fire he stared at gave off a familiar glow, but he couldn't feel the heat of it. He poked at the burning wood with a long stick, absentmindedly, lost in his mind. There was a cup on the seat next to him, but he doesn't recall filling it. Or emptying it. It was just… there. Like he was.

The cool night drags on, and Jason is left alone. His team, his brothers, separated from each other, each fighting their own demons, healing.

A soft sigh, or maybe a whimper, to his right brought his attention to Bravo's four legged member, slumped in a chair, head on the arm, gaze somewhere fixed off in the distance. This is when Jason realizes, for what may be the first time, Cerberus without Brock. Brock without Cerberus. And the sight scared him.

Flashes of the mission dance across his vision, forcing Jason to shut his eyes in a feeble attempt to get them to go away. Flashes of a mission that went wrong. Flashes of sending a brother home in a box. He can't tell what is real and what is his imagination going haywire.

Jason's knuckles turn white as he tightens his grip around the stick. His hand shakes and his breathing quickens and his heart races. When he brings his shaking hands down across his face, down the blood and dirt that caked his dry skin, a sob escapes his lips. The stick, his last lifeline, fell into the flames as he silently broke down.

Jason doesn't know how long he sat there, hunched over, struggling to breathe over and over and over. The war between mind and body rages. He grips the arm of the chair, runs his hand through his hair, tries to focus on anything he set his eyes on - the flames, the stars, the bar - but it is a losing battle.

And he knows it.

He blindly reaches out for the cup, which is actually filled to the brim, needing something to numb… everything he feels. In his hast, Jason knocks it over and it lands on the ground with a muted thud, its contents spilling into the open fire. The memories of a day gone wrong splash up like the liquid and fall back down to earth like drops of rain.

Eventually, the night stills. The camp quiets, as much as those who remain dare to. Cerberus, still in his chair, huffs as he finally falls asleep, leaving Jason to face his demons alone.

"We're getting pinned down here!" Jason yells into his comms as shards of stone walling rain down around him.

He isn't sure what caused everything to go wrong. But something gave, and before Bravo knew it, they were being attacked by enemy from all sides. Ambushed. Led into a trap. Set up. There are only so many ways you can say the same thing.

"Any Bravo company got eyes on?"

Jason made the hard decision to split the team up upon their arrival on target. Something gnawed at his gut the entire flight over from base and only increased once they landed and walked the two klicks to their destination. He was hoping he would get over it once they were on target, but that feeling over increased.

"Bravo Two, what do you see?" Jason asks after returning fire.

Jason makes a plan and everyone is quick to get into position. They search the target building, get their HVT in record time. HAVOC barely has time to warn Bravo of what was about to transpire but the bullets rain down on their building all too fast.

"Ambush!" Ray had said as he looked for an angle.

"Ambushed once per deployment," said Brock from across the room. "Sounds about right."

"Still not a thing," said Trent.

"Okay, shut it. We need to take care of these guys before they get-"

An RPG striking the side of the building cut Jason off. After he recovered and made sure his team was okay, he gave off orders for everyone to get into position.

He sent Ray to search for a high spot while Clay covered their six from another. Jason and the others gave them cover. Dust was kicked up and empty shell casings littered the ground. And the longer the firefight went on, the stronger Jason's feeling about the situation grew.

"Ray, do you copy?"

Thirty and Metal were inside the building and Trent, Brock and Cerberus were posted along the side, having been pushed outside after another explosion caused part of the building to collapse.

"Bravo Two?"

"I'm pinned do-!" Ray shouted through comms. There is a long pause, then a crackle creeps over the static of comms. "Man down! Brav… is down!"

Not knowing who was hit was nearly enough to knock Jason off of his feet. It took a lot of willpower, years of training and warfighting, to not panic.

"Bravo Two, talk to me," Jason changes out his mag, goes to a different position between bursts of fire. Peering around a broken wall, he spots an armored technical vehicle raining hellfire down on a section of building. He didn't have a clear shot. "Ray? Ray, answer me, dammit!

"I see it, I see it. I'm moving int-" Perry's words were cut off, and Jason's heart sank even more.

"Ray? Ray," Jason returns fire. "Any Bravo company, respond!"

His radio was silent. No static. No contact with his brothers. He tried to raise HAVOC, and came up empty.

When the firefight eventually dies down after QRF arrived, and Jason steps from behind his shelter, he took in the sight of his brothers. Clay, Metal and Thirty were already huddling around the back of the building, their HVT held tight in the latter's grip. He doesn't see Trent or Ray or Brock or Cerberus, so he continues to hold his breath as he rounds the corner and-

"Hey,"

Jason looks up, spots Ray through tears and the heat of the flames. He wipes his eyes, pulls his jacket down over his hands. "Hey,"

"You alright, brother?" asks Ray.

Jason doesn't miss the way Ray winces, or the way he holds his left hand tight against his right shoulder as he sits down. "Yeah, I'm… I'm fine. Good. You?"

"Nothing some stitches and a few days of rest can't fix."

"Good, good. That's good, I'm glad."

The two sit is suffocating silencing for awhile. Then, the crackle of the flames and Cerberus' deep breathing becomes more evident. That's when Ray speaks up.

"Nice to see Cerb resting,"

"Yeah, they said it took awhile. Didn't give specifics,"

"Clay took him to get cleaned up, but he just went haywire. Refused to eat, drink. Metal had to help wash and dry him," says Ray. "Even grabbed one of Brock's shirts and put it in his cage, but he just sat there and howled."

Jason hangs his head at that. Now he understands why Cerberus is so tired. And it isn't just from their mission.

"Have you heard anything?" asks Jason. "About-"

"They were finishing up with him when the doc kicked me loose. Trent was," Ray stops, looks toward the medical tent. "Trent said Brock'll be okay. Through-and-through, just lost a lot of blood. I'm going to sneak Cerb in first thing tomorrow. It'll do them both good."

"Yeah, okay, that's good."

"Is it?" asks Ray. He shifts in his seat again. Now, he is staring at his team leader, his brother. His best friend. "Is anything about this good?"

"What? What are you getting at, Ray? What do you want me to say?" Jason grabs another stick, throws it in the flames. "This is war, this is what we're here to stop. Not make peace."

"Yeah. I talked to the Chaplin, asked him that same question and I... Jason, this base is shutting down. There are peace talks going on whether we like it or not," Ray sighs. "And now I've gotta find out how to tell my daughter that daddy got hurt. That I could've died. How do you think that's going to go?"

"Ray,"

"I'm gonna check on the guys," Ray stands, clasps Jason on his shoulder. "Just... Get some rest, okay?"

Jason nods, but doesn't add anything more than that. After Ray leaves, he sits back in his seat. The night drags on and the fire dies down to mere embers. That question, what am I fighting for? still rings in his head, barely heard over Cerberus' deep breathing.