Hey everyone! It's been a hot minute since I posted a fic, and even longer since I posted for Seal team, but these last few months have been crazy, to say the least. Anyway, don't worry, I am still working on the chapters for the most recent multi-chapter storyline in my America's Elite collection, and hopefully, those will be out soon! For now, this will be my shot at the Febuwhump posts and I will try to get as many out as I can, but most likely not all of them considering I'm starting on day 3. At any rate, hope you enjoy!
Day 3 - Imprisonment
"Get on your knees!" Broken English combined with a thick accent was enough to make anyone crazy, but after hearing it for nearly a week, Clay had gotten used to deciphering it. When the Sailor - lucky for him that's all they thought he was - refused to do so, he felt a swift but hard kick to the side of his right leg, sending a fresh bolt of pain through the sensitive nerve endings in his thighs. Unlucky for him, his captors had stripped him of his gear and quickly found the web of scars on the front of his legs, and even more unlucky, started using them against him.
"Many scars… must be important man! Military surely. Had to have gotten these during duty! Tell me, what branch?" The masked man asked in a sinister tone, rolling the blade of a recently sharpened knife over and over in his palm. Clay clenched his jaw tighter, not letting the pain in multiple parts of his body show on his face. In the next minute he bit down so hard he thought for sure he'd crack a tooth as the man slowly pushed the glowing hot blade into the raised skin of his scars. There were certain parts of his thighs where the damage from the bomb had completely destroyed the nerves so that he had no feeling, but at this moment he was wishing the same could be said for his entire leg. His breathing quickened as the man continued, and he wished so badly that he could just black out already.
He could feel the blood still running down the front of his legs, but with his hands tied stiffly behind his back, he couldn't do anything about it. He looked directly back up at his captor, trying to keep the stoic look on his face so he wouldn't give them what they wanted - to see him break. He knew it was working when he saw a flare of anger in the ringleaders eyes followed by a punch that made the sides of his vision grey out. Clay clenched every muscle he still had control over and forced himself to at least stay on his knees because he knew the moment he hit the floor, they'd turn their attention back to his brother who was slumped against the wall in the corner, and he couldn't let that happen. Metal had a family at home that needed him alive. And at the rate that the wound on his side was bleeding, he couldn't handle any more abuse, no matter how many times he had tried to convince Clay otherwise.
"Your lucky I must keep you alive… this tough does not impress me." the man standing over him snarled. In the next minute, he thought about how just maybe they were lucky when he heard the sound of a breaching charge in the distance. That had to be the rest of the boys coming for them. He heard Metal groan and then perk up behind him, knowing he had heard the same thing. He turned to look at him, laughing inwardly at the half-grin that Metal shot him. He could hear footsteps getting closer, and what had to be suppressed gunfire. Clay would've loved to see what happened next, but the captors must've heard the same thing because the man standing in front of him sent him to the ground with a concussive blow to the temple.
"...ay… Clay. Come on Clay, wake up buddy. There we go, come on, let me see those baby blues!" He could hear a voice above him coaxing him back, and judging by the southern twang, it had to be Sonny that was kneeling next to him, making an effort to check him over.
"Havoc this is one, passing Ferrari. I repeat, jackpot, we have six and seven." Jason's voice came next but his sounded farther away.
"How's he doing Sonny?" Trent's voice soon joined in from behind him.
"Uh… I ain't a medic but he doesn't seem great. They uh… looks like they tried to cut open his sc… legs." Sonny's rely got nearly everyones attention as they looked to see if what he was saying was true.
"Y...yea. They saw the scars and decided we must be military. Tried to get him to tell them more by tracing the scars with a knife but the kid didn't say a word. He did do a good job of pissing them off though, keeping the attention off of me. And they beat the shit outta him in return…" Full Metal finally spoke up, the pain barely evident in his voice over the anger and a little bit of guilt.
"Alright Trent, we gotta move soon. Give our boy a once-over so we can get him outta here." Jason said, and Trent nodded, finishing securing the bandage covering the bullet hole on Metal's side and swiftly making his way over to Clay's side to replace Sonny.
"Hey kid, you with us?" Trent asked, lightly taping Clay's cheek.
"Mmm...Mhmm… took ya guys long enough!" He replied, forcing his eyes open once again. The pressure of Trent's hand and the bandage sent sparks of pain through his leg and he let out a deep groan.
"Sorry buddy, I know those nerves are extra sensitive but I have to make sure you stop bleeding. Ray, grab a morphine shot out of my bag and give it to him while I finish up. Sonny, get ready to carry him out of here. Brock, you got Metal?" Trent said, calling out orders. Brock replied, and the others did as they were asked. Not long after that, Clay felt himself being hoisted into the air and over Sonny's shoulders.
"Alright Goldilocks, hang on a little longer and we'll get ya home." Sonny said as they moved out of the building.
Virginia beach, days later…
Clay pushed open the heavy wooden door to the teams favorite bar, trying his best to make sure that it wouldn't hit his crutch as he hobbled over to the guys usual spot.
"Hey! There he is! Finally off the pain meds and ready to drink with us again!" Sonny yelled from across the crowded bar.
"Whole situation looks a little too familiar to me. How's the leg doin'?" Davis asked once he got closer and Clay had greeted the rest of the team.
"Ah it all good, just a little sore. Wouldn't even need this thing if it wasn't for a few nerves that feel like being a little extra fussy." He answered, and happily accepted the beer Metal handed him.
"How's the side feeling?" Clay asked, trying to get the attention off of him.
"It was just a through and through, no big deal. You took the brunt of the abuse. Your tabs on me tonight!" Metal replied. Everyone knew the older man was a man of few words, but Clay could see the sincerity in his eyes.
"Don't go too crazy with those, your gettin' heavy!" Sonny chimed in jokingly, instantly killing the sincere mood.
"Or maybe you've just been slacking on leg day recently!" Clay shot back playfully, giving his friend a smirk. From there, the laughter only picked up, and Clay thanked his lucky stars once again for such an amazing team.
