Mr. Miracle and Malevolence

Perth Naval Hospital – ER Waiting Room

Jason couldn't relax … so he paced the waiting area, stopping and turning to the door every time it opened. Although he had been calm and steady helping intubate Clay, his hands now shook, so he kept them clenched. The trip to the U.S.S. Kearsarge felt like it took eons as everyone stared at their rookie.

Waiting outside their infirmary as Navy medical staff stabilized Spenser for the flight to Perth lasted an indeterminable amount of time … and the actual travel time … well, Jason couldn't say. All he knew was his rookie still was unconscious and not breathing on his own, which scared the hell out of him.

He vaguely listened to Kilpatrick as she explained what she knew of krait venom. Of all the damned luck … the kid made it through shark-infested waters without being attacked, only to be bitten by a damned sea snake ten feet from the beach. It was a fucking miracle Clay was still alive.

Mandy entered the area behind Blackburn and Davis, their flight arranged while the others were still on the Kearsarge waiting to transport both Spenser and Holt to the hospital in Perth. She stood back as Eric approached Jason because she comprehended the murderous expression on Jason's face. Someone would pay for Spenser being injured, and she was the most likely target. She only hoped the news she brought would assuage his anger somewhat.

"Any word yet?" Eric asked coming to a halt near the master chief who appeared ready to engage in mayhem.

"No," Jason snapped.

"They've got their best staff working on him, or so Commander Kingston tells me." Eric turned his gaze to the others in the room. "Accommodations have been arranged for everyone at the motel across the street. You all need rest, but I understand you won't be leaving until you hear how Clay is doing."

"Got that right, in one." Jason's eyes whipped to the door again, only to be disappointed when a nurse exited and went to the vending machine.

Davis sat next to Sonny, noting his somber expression. "He's gonna make it. Clay's a fighter."

"Kid shouldn't have to be fighting for his life … these damned pet missions of Mandy's havta stop. He's being misused … his looks, his language skills." Sonny growled as he fought to rein in his temper. "Hell, even his old man screws him over."

Mandy overheard, and interjected, "About that."

Everyone's eyes turn to Mandy. "I finally got to the root of why Bravo was sent on this mission."

"And how would that help Clay now?" Jason barked, the fire still in his eyes.

"Whoa, Jace, let her speak." Ray put a hand on Jason's shoulder.

Glancing around, not sure she should tell them here, but deciding it might go a long way in redeeming her … or at least moving the target off her back because she was not the one pulling the strings. She motioned for them to gather closer and dropped her voice, "Admiral Droit wanted Spenser out of the country for at least a week. This mission was a way to make that happen."

"What? Why?" Brock asked, beating everyone to the punch.

Mandy took a breath. "Has something to do with Ash Spenser's interview and claim to have an inside source."

"Oh hell no! Goldilocks isn't the source. The damned cake eaters aren't going to pin this on him," Sonny ground out.

Ray turned in a circle, anger rising, as he gripped the back of his neck and images of Clay in the cage the night of the interview slammed into his brain. The vulnerability and the fear of not being believed exuded from Clay had been unnerving, especially when he collapsed to the ground.

Trent glared at Mandy. "So they send him on a mission to kill him … that's some first-class shit."

Jason waited, he knew the look in Mandy's eye … there was more here than met the eye.

"Let me finish without jumping off the deep end." Mandy halted until she had all their attention again. "This is not what they expected to happen to Clay. They only wanted him out of the way and unable to be blamed. Seems Admiral Droit likes Clay and didn't for one minute believe he leaked details to Ash."

"He believes someone else is giving the ashhole classified data," Jason more stated than questioned with malice dripping from each word.

Mandy nodded. "I'm not privy to most of it, but apparently they are investigating and possibly laying out a trap to identify who passed the details to the elder Spenser. Hence the need to have Clay unreachable and in a position where he can't be maligned again."

The door opening and a doctor approaching them ceased further conversation. Dr. Marchant halted and peered directly at the intense dark-haired man who had demanded in no uncertain terms that he was to save the kid's life or lose his. A bit melodramatic for him, but Marchant was used to dealing with distraught family members. And he knew without a doubt, these men, though not related by blood were brothers.

"I'll get right to the point. He will survive. The antivenom is helping, and he appears to possess a strong constitution. It will take time for the venom to work out of his system, but as it does, the paralysis should resolve. I'm optimistic he will suffer no residual effects, but we will monitor him closely.

"The wound in his thigh did become infected. We have cleaned it thoroughly and started him on a broad-spectrum antibiotic until the lab work comes back and identifies the organism. I'll adjust medications as necessary. The young man is lucky, the spear did not do any major damage to muscles, ligaments, or tendons.

"He is still intubated and we are moving him to the intensive care unit soon. Once he is settled, a nurse will come and escort you back, two at a time. I apologize, but we are not set up to accommodate more than two, and you may only stay a few minutes in the room with him since the area is quite small. We do have a special waiting room down the hall for ICU patient's families. Feel free to camp out there, and a nurse will provide you updates on a regular basis. Any questions?"

Satisfied he had the straight scoop on Clay, Sonny asked, "How is Holt?"

Marchant nodded in understanding. Though the soldiers were not from the same country, a brotherhood existed. "He is still in surgery. I'll send word on his condition once he is in recovery. Any other questions?" Upon receiving shakes of their heads, Marchant pivoted and headed back into the emergency room.

Jason raked a hand through his hair. "Brock, Sonny, you two go first. Trent, Ray you next, then I want all four of you to go to the motel and rest a few hours. Blackburn and I will go last … after Davis …" Jason eyed Mandy, "and Ellis."

He strode over to a chair and sank down. The kid is gonna make it. I'm getting too old for this shit. Jason's mind shifted. Who the hell is the mole and why would Admiral Droit go out of his way to protect Clay from being accused?

Two Days Later – Perth Naval Hospital – Clay's Room

The past two days of waiting for the kid to wake wore on everyone. Jason finally agreed to go to the motel to sleep once Spenser was off the ventilator, which was in the wee hours of this morning. An oxygen mask still covered his nose and mouth and they wouldn't switch to a nose cannula until they could keep his O2 sats stable.

Freshly showered, and in clean clothes after six hours of sleep, all Jason would agree to take, he strolled into Spenser's room carrying a tray of coffees and clutching a large bag. He spied the rest of Bravo lounging in various chairs they had unabashedly procured from other rooms. "Brought hot coffee and burritos."

Ray stood and took the tray, going from man to man as they took a cup. "Kid's been showing some signs of waking. His eyelids have fluttered a few times, and he moaned."

"He in pain?" Jason asked as he pulled out one of the steak burritos and handed the bag to Brock.

"No telling, but he settled rather quick," Trent said as he unwrapped his burro after passing the bag to Sonny. "Aussies do Mexican food?"

Jason grinned. "Yeah, and Cerb loved his burro."

"Ah man, you didn't give him one of these?" Brock had taken a bite to find steak mixed with beans. "He's gonna be malodorous. Beans make him fart."

The guys all chuckled, but Jason confessed, "Got him a steak only version. But Cerb even on his worst day doesn't smell as bad as Sonny."

"Hey, hey … ladies find my scent an aphrodisiac, they swoon at my feet," Sonny retorted.

Ray chuckled. "Brother, we need Trent to teach you the difference between swooning and passing out."

The sounds of his brothers joking filtered into Clay's ears. He wanted to open his eyes, but that required more energy than he possessed. Every inch of him ached as if he had swum a hundred miles in the ocean, and a blue whale must be sitting on his chest because every breath was a struggle.

He had difficulty following their conversation, his mind drifting in an out and plagued by a constant throbbing in his leg which hurt like hell. He wished Trent would take his pain away … he always did, so why didn't he now? Clay decided he must be hallucinating their voices … wishful thinking. The last thing he recalled was hearing a woman crying.

No … wait … Jason came … Trent too. My team, my family never let me down. They always come for me … even found me in a destroyed building in Sudan and the jungle in Argentina. Gathering all his strength, Clay forced his eyes to crack open.

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty is awake," Sonny said as he moved for the bed when he spotted the partial blue orbs. Relief flooding through him, he joked, "That was some needle you pricked yourself with, Princess Aurora. Maleficent sure put some curse on you. Was about to allow all the nurses to kiss you to wake you."

Jason stepped toward Clay as the rookie's eyes landed on Trent and stayed. "You in pain? Blink once for yes. Don't try to talk … your throat will be raw."

Clay mustered up a bit of reserve and blinked one time.

Trent was out the door in a flash to find the nurse and get some pain medication on board. Both returned a short time later, only to find Clay's eyes closed. "He back asleep?"

"Not sure," Jason replied. "Looked like it took everything he had to open them for a bit.

Trent grasped Clay's right hand. "Give me a little squeeze or wiggle a finger if you are still awake and hurting."

Clay moved his thumb a fraction.

"Okay. The nurse is gonna give you the good stuff for pain and I'll keep you on a schedule until you can communicate easier." Trent nodded to the nurse to administer the morphine.

Not sure how he managed, Clay gave Trent's hand a slight squeeze in thanks. He didn't remain in the conscious world long and was grateful to be drawn into the arms of Morpheus once again.

The guys had all settled into their seats again after the nurse left. When the door opened, they expected it to be Davis or Blackburn but were surprised when Kilpatrick and Koala entered.

Katie's eyes went straight to the bed as she shuffled forward. Her hand landed on Clay's as she asked, "How is he? I wanted to come before now, but they wouldn't let me."

Koala leaned on the wall. "For a damned good reason. Dehydration and a pesky little thing called a concussion. You should still be resting."

"Mild concussion," Katie scoffed. She turned her gaze on Trent. "So, is he going to be okay?"

"The outlook is positive." Trent didn't want to provide too much detail. Though this woman saved the kid's life, he would be protective of Clay.

Sonny asked, "How did Holt fare?"

Koala sighed. "He's alive thanks to Trent's skill. For that, you have my eternal gratitude. Unfortunately, the round did significant internal damage. His days as an operator are over." What Koala didn't share ... he would need to keep a careful watch on Holt, worried the colostomy bag he now required since his bowels had been shot to hell, might lead the man to suicide. Not an outcome he would allow to happen.

Changing the subject, Koala relayed, "Received word from my commander about the Dilberts. Both are out of the hospital and doing fine. They were debriefed and it appears they discovered Kingfisher's operation and Mike dumped them in the ocean three miles from North Keeling Island believing they would drown or be eaten by sharks after he threw chum into the water around them.

"Bill Keller, the magistrate has been arrested as well. He and Kingfisher were in cahoots, but Gary Buckler, the constable is innocent. He will be taking over duties from Keller until a replacement magistrate is hired."

Katie glanced around at the men in the room. Her voice held a note of anger. "This whole thing is a mess. When they went missing, I don't understand why no one bothered to search North Keeling. If they had, Clay wouldn't be lying here and Holt wouldn't be down the hall." Her head began pounding again and she swayed. It hurt almost as much as the occasional migraines she suffered.

Brock caught her. "Take my chair."

Koala pushed off the wall. "Nope, Katie's going back to her room." He eyed her and almost laughed at the murderous glint. "MRIs don't lie. You need rest. I'll order you back to bed if I have to." Koala waited for her capitulation.

Giving in, Katie said, "When he wakes up, someone please come and tell me. I'm in room four sixteen."

"Will do," Ray answered. They owed Katie a lot. Without her, Clay would've bled to death or drown before reaching the island.

With one glance back at her new friend, Katie followed Koala from the room.

Murfreesboro, Virginia – Local Tavern

Ash Spenser ambled into the bar after an hour drive from his home in Norfolk. He was still angry with Clay for slugging him and actually considered for a couple of days to file assault charges. He did nothing to provoke the punch, and by the time he hauled his ass off the floor, his ungrateful son had left.

His mercurial relationship with Clay had never been easy. His son always appeared so needy. Daddy, why can't you stay? Daddy, why do I have to live with Nana and Papa so far away? How come you and Mommy can't live together?

On and on it went until Ash wanted to be anywhere other than in the presence of his six-year-old malcontent son. By the time Clay was a teen, all Ash ever got was contempt from the boy, which is why he stayed away.

"Why did I expect it to change," Ash mumbled as he searched for the person he was meeting. Erase my footsteps … never. I'm taking you down a few pegs and showing you who is top dog. You will never surpass my achievements. This will ensure you are kicked off the Tier One teams.

Spying his contact, Ash quickened his pace and slid into the booth at the back of the dimly lit bar. "What can you tell me?"

Furtive eyes, reminiscent of a frightened meerkat, glanced around. "You know the American hostage situation in Mozambique?"

"Yeah, been watching the news."

"The assignment to rescue them went to Bravo."

Ash took notes as his source provided him the details of the mission. This would make a great addition for a third book or possibly a late revision to the second. It would further support his allegation of having an inside man on the team … his son would take the fall, and that is all Ash cared about at the moment. When the mole finished, Ash grinned. "When will they return?"

"Not certain. I gotta go." Reaching out a hand, and eyeing Ash, the source said, "You brought the money, right?"

Pulling an envelope out of his pocket, Ash pushed it across the table. "There's more where this came from if you continue to feed me details."

Grabbing the packet, the slippery moray eel slithered out of the booth and disappeared into the murky bar.

Ash motioned to the waitress and order a malt whiskey. As he sipped, a smile grew. Clay will learn not to mouth off to the master operator. And this will be a bit of payback for getting Adam killed too. Seiver would still be alive if my incompetent offspring hadn't been the weak link. Bravo will eventually thank me for managing to get him booted from their team.

Three Days Later – Perth Naval Hospital – Clay's Room

"No … believe me … not source!" Clay cried out in his sleep, jerking Sonny and Brock from their ruminations.

After setting down magazines, both men rushed to the bed.

Sonny crooned as he shook the kid's shoulder, "Wake up. Nightmare. Come on."

Panting, sweat beading on his forehead, Clay opened his groggy eyes, turning them to the familiar Texas drawl. He started to calm, sucking a ragged breath. He grimaced as he lifted a hand to wipe away the perspiration before it could dribble into his eyes. His body still ached and reacted slowly to mental commands … a result of the paralysis which the doctor said would diminish with time.

"Here, let me." Brock ran a cool, damp rag over Clay's face. The past three days, ever since Spenser woke, the kid had been plagued by night terrors. Sometimes begging them to believe he hadn't leaked the intel, but most often screaming at his dad not to drown him or kill him.

The killing ones were the weirdest. Ray suggested Clay talk about what he dreamt as a way to release the demons. Clay's subconscious possessed quite an imagination. Ash often took the form of a shark, which Sonny said was appropriate. Sonny would vow that they as his pod of killer whales would rip out Ash's liver before he could harm Clay. This kid had managed to find a place in all their hearts, and none of them would ever turn their backs on him.

Sonny snagged the milkshake Davis brought Clay in an insulated container. "Want a slug?"

Clay nodded and wrapped his lips around the straw as Sonny moved it towards his mouth. He sucked up the cold minty chocolate shake savoring the flavor. His brothers and Lisa had gone out of their way to bring him things he wanted to eat. At first, it was soft foods like mousse and mango ice cream. Yesterday Jason brought him a maple bacon doughnut … a truly awesome creation.

Brock set the cloth down and grinned. "We still have some of the molasses cookies or macadamia nuts if you are hungry."

Clay chuckled. "Not gonna die of starvation, maybe malnutrition with you guys around."

The happy sound from the kid did a lot to settle Sonny's worries. "I can go heat up some of the mozzarella sticks we had earlier."

"Milkshake is enough for now." Clay reached out to take the cup from Sonny, a little self-conscious about how much they did for him, and hating to be mollycoddled, but actually needing their assistance. A maddening situation which messed with his mind and left him mopey.

Glad to see Clay asserting the desire to do things for himself, Sonny released his hold and sat in his chair. "Want to watch TV?"

"No, but go ahead and turn it on if you want." Clay concentrated on holding the cup, his muscles protesting even this small endeavor. He took one more swallow before setting down his beverage. Glancing toward the restroom, Clay almost groaned as Mother Nature called. He shifted, carefully swinging his feet to the side of the bed.

Brock stepped close, ready to be of assistance.

"I got this." Clay reached for the IV pole. Holding in a moan, attempting to retain a bit of macho, Clay put weight on his good leg and pulled himself up. With awkward shuffling movements, Clay limped to the bathroom and shut the door.

Sonny peered at Brock who stood by the closed door. "He's making progress." No sooner than the words left his mouth a crashing sound in the restroom caused Sonny to jump up and cross the distance in the time it took Brock to open the door.

Clay lay on the linoleum, luckily his gown covering his privates, but he wore an expression of disgust as he grumbled, "Damned useless leg."

Without a single word, Brock and Sonny picked the kid up, positioned him to use the toilet, turned their heads to give him a modicum of privacy, and when he finished, moved him back to his bed. Both caught the grimaces Clay tried to hide, and once he was settled, Brock stepped out of the room to track down Clay's nurse.

Clay stared at the ceiling, attempting to be stoic, embarrassed for needing help with the mere task of walking to take a piss. Lately, his leg cycled between excruciating pain and numbness … pain winning out at the moment.

"Just breathe through it," Sonny said as he remained close. He wondered if he had been this attentive to Danny if his friend's life would've taken a different path … perhaps he wouldn't've OD. A strange and wholly selfish thought crossed his mind. If I had, then I would never have had a chance with Lisa. To push away the tricky feelings, Sonny started a joke, "A mouse, a mallard duck, and a Martian walk into a bar—"

"Stop!" Clay barked, not in the mood for humor as his leg burned.

"Well, Mr. Moody, if you don't appreciate my jokes, I'll just go find another audience," Sonny snapped back. He pivoted and exited the room without glancing back.

Perth Naval Hospital – Hallway

Once outside, Sonny sagged against the wall. "What the fuck did I just do?"

Brock halted next to Sonny as the nurse continued in. He placed a hand on Sonny's shoulder. "Don't beat yourself up. I assume he nipped at you."

Sonny nodded.

"Bound to happen. None of us would want to be in his position, and the kid's been injured too damned much … gotta be wearing on his last nerve."

Sonny cringed. "Nerve … when the hell is that numbness he feels supposed to go away?"

"Trent said it would take time … no one knows how much."

"He can't operate if his leg goes dead on him."

"Clay will make it back. He only needs time. Why don't you take a break? Send Jason back. He can deal with morose Clay well."

"Privilege of command."

"Burden," Brock corrected.

Sonny eyed Brock. "Yeah. Okay." He straightened and started for the exit. Striding past Holt's room, Sonny's gut twisted. He was responsible for the man's condition and avoided going in to talk to him. Waiting at the elevator, memories of Danny came back. As the doors opened, Sonny stepped forward, but then pivoted and found himself marching to Holt's door.

Hesitating only a moment, Sonny knocked, and when the Aussie called out, "Come in," he pushed open the door and entered.

Perth Naval Hospital – Holt's Room

Mark Holt clicked mute on his remote, silencing the TV. "G'day mate."

Sonny moved forward, unsure what to say. He didn't do touchy-feely … will except with the kid, which was odd. Another strange thought entered his head. Doubt I would've ever considered dallying with Lisa before meeting Clay … the kid changed me.

Finding himself all over the place emotionally lately, Sonny yet again pushed those thoughts away and focused on Holt. "Hey. Been meaning to stop by, but … the kid."

Mark nodded. "How's Spenser doing?"

"Good moments and bad. Making progress though. How about you?" Sonny straddled one of the chairs.

"Been better. I'll be heading home in about five days."

Sonny nodded and drew up the courage to say what he felt must be said. "Thanks for saving my life. I'm sorry this ended your career."

Mark shook his head. "Didn't save your life. The bullet had my name on it."

"But you pushed me out of the way and covered me."

Mark chuckled. "No. You're wrong. We were both moving for cover. You only cushioned my fall. This isn't on you. Hell, if I hadn't missed the boat, none of us would've been there in the first place. And your rookie wouldn't be injured either. If anyone is to blame, it's me."

Sonny stared a moment at the man he had once wanted to hate and punched after finding out he failed to join Clay and Katie on the Karnivorous Kookaburra. "Any idea what you are going to do now?"

"Already received a job offer. Once healed, I'll be going to work for Dilbert Shipyards as head of cybersecurity and threat assessments. A desk job will take some getting used to, but I can focus on refining my other skills. I'll land on my feet." Mark grinned.

The monkey on his back, the guilt he felt over Holt being shot lifted from Sonny's shoulders. The two men spent the next thirty minutes in light conversation. When the nurse came in to do her checks, Sonny excused himself and headed for the motel in a much better mood.

Two Days Later – Perth Naval Hospital – Clay's Room

Trent glanced up from his medical text book when the door opened and he grinned. Speaking softly, he said, "He's been asleep for about two hours, he should be waking from his nap soon." He stood and stretched. "I'm gonna go grab a snack and a breath of fresh air, mind staying with him until I return?"

Katie smiled. "No worries, take your time. This will be my last visit. I'm back on active duty tomorrow." She strolled to the bed after Trent left, and sat on the edge. She gazed at the man who won a place in her heart … a true friend she would treasure for her lifetime.

A light touch on his cheek woke Clay. He blinked open his eyes, and a beautiful sight greeted him. "Much better than bearded men. Hi, Katie."

"Sorry to wake you."

"No, you're not."

"You're right. I'm not. Wanted to spend as much time as possible with my make-believe husband before I must leave." She scooted more on the bed and clasped Clay's hand, enjoying the connection.

"My wife's leaving me already. Just my luck." Clay fake pouted, although he would miss his chats with Katie. She was fun, smart, and a damned good soldier.

"You're leaving too I heard."

"Yeah, tomorrow. Jason said our ride home won't be the C17, it left yesterday with Blackburn, Ellis, and Davis."

"The Dilberts are grateful to be alive. Ray told me you're all flying home on their private jet. It will make traveling easier on you."

"A bit."

Recognizing Clay didn't like his condition being called out she changed the subject. "Nice couple, can't believe what Gareth Dilbert did for Holt. Makes me happy, and Holt's wife and daughter are over the moon to have him coming home soon. The outcome could've been very different if not for Trent's abilities."

Clay nodded, understanding he too was alive today because of Trent's and Katie's efforts.

Her hand gently rubbed Clay's thigh. "My squad will be starting trials tomorrow for a replacement for Holt." She chuckled. "I get to hand off the rookie badge before you."

Clay rolled his eyes and grinned. "Truthfully, I don't mind keeping it for years to come because it means the team stays intact. But you can't share that with anyone."

Katie beamed. "Yeah, thought you might." She pursed her lips and twisted her fingers on them before saying, "My lips are sealed."

Leaning forwarded and drawing Katie to him, Clay melded his lips to hers, giving her a soft kiss. Pulling back before things became heated, Clay grinned. "Now your lips are SEALed."

Katie laughed. "I think they need a bit more SEALing." She slipped her hands behind his neck and proceeded to lock lips with him.

Several minutes later, catcalls broke them apart, and they both stared at the doorway, finding Sonny holding a cake and the rest of Bravo's and Koala's members filing in behind him. Even Holt was there in a wheelchair, being pushed by Danvers.

"What's this?" Katie waved her hand towards the cake, hoping she wasn't blushing too much, though feeling the heat in her cheeks.

Sonny drawled, "Well, now, Missy, we can't be leaving without a proper divorce party. We want to thank you for teaching our young buck a thing or two. Don't think he's going home a virgin."

The guys erupted in laughter, and Clay tossed his pillow at Sonny, barely missing the cake and avoiding making a mess. Over the next few hours, both teams enjoyed the international comradery, laughing and joking. When Holt started nodding off, Koala and his guys left after a round of farewells, but Katie stayed.

As Katie approached Clay's bed again, she wore a sad smile. "You have my number. Don't be a stranger. Call me now and again and let me know how things are going on your side of the world."

Clay nodded. "Same goes for you." He reached out and clasped her hand. "Thanks for everything, Katie."

"Ditto." She couldn't resist the urge for one last kiss. She leaned down and captured his lips for a tender goodbye.

This time the room remained silent, the men of Bravo recognizing a true connection had been made between Clay and Katie. Saving each other's lives forged a friendship and bond which would be difficult to break.

When Katie straightened, Clay reached up and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Take care, Katie."

"You too." Katie turned away, and tears flooded her eyes as she peered at Jason and his men. "You keep him safe … watch his six."

"Always," Jason answered.

Katie swiped at her eyes and strode out. Saying goodbye to a kindred spirit hurt. She wished they didn't live on opposites sides of the world.

Clay's eyes shifted to the window, taking a moment to center himself. He would never forget all Katie did for him … not only saved his life but helped him get over Stella. Wanting to change the tone in the room, Clay refocused on Jason. "Did they ever find out who is the source, or did Ash just guess and lie about having one?"

"No word yet. Blackburn is going to talk to Admiral Droit when he gets back." Jason picked up another piece of marble cake with thick fudge frosting and took a seat.

Ray chuckled. "Eat much more of that and you'll be running the hills with Clay when he is rehabbing."

"Mind your own stomach," Jason retorted and shoveled in a massive mouthful of his tasty morsel.

Clay closed his eyes as his brothers started teasing each other. He drifted off to sleep, content for the moment. Returning and facing what his father wrought would be a can of worms he might open later.

Trent noted Spenser's regular breathing and monitored it for several minutes. Images of finding the kid not breathing assaulted him. He was glad he spent time learning the tricky art of intubation, because if they had to do mouth to mouth … Clay wouldn't be here now. They would've been escorting him home in a box. Anger over this mission and the reason for it grew and he clenched a fist.

Brock spotted their medic's change in demeanor. "What's wrong, Trent?"

"I want to ram my fists into the Ashhole."

Sonny declared, "Only after I give him an ass whooping Texan-style."

Despite the heat exuding from both men, Ray chuckled. "And what pray-tell makes it Texan-style?"

"My fists will pound on him slow and hard until his meat just falls off his bones." Sonny focused on Clay. "Our little brother deserves a better father. Not one with Machiavellian tendencies."

"I hear you and agree. But we will let whatever the admiral has in mind play out first." Jason eyed Sonny. "You will not approach Ash Spenser. Do I make myself clear?"

Sonny nodded. "Crystal, but—"

"But nothing. We'll pick up the pieces for the kid, just like we did after Mexico and Stella. We're not going to lose him over his father's megalomaniacal behavior."

They all nodded and settled in while Clay napped, hoping he didn't have another dream which mind-fucked him. Ash Spenser was a malignant cancer in the kid's life and needed to be excised for good. They would marshal around their brother and prevent him from being maimed by any more of Ash's malicious actions.

One Week Later – Clay's Apartment Parking Lot

Clay pulled his Mustang into his usual spot and turned the engine off. He sighed and remained in his seat, muscles exhausted from his workout. He turned and grinned at Sonny and joked, "Might havta carry me up the stairs."

"No way, Mr. Miracle. Told you not to do the last set of reps, but would you listen to me? Nope. So now you're gonna suffer the consequences and haul your own sorry ass up the stairs. Besides, I'm carrying the most important thing already." He lifted two six-packs of beer.

Clay chuckled along with Sonny and moved to open his door. I really shouldn't have done the last but I had to show them I'm not an invalid. He groaned as he straightened up. He hadn't experienced an episode of numbness in his leg in the last two days. His rehab was on track and hopefully, in three weeks he would be back with the team.

Rounding the back, Clay said, "Spoke with Katie last night."

"How's your ex-wife?" Sonny teased and halted, realizing Clay needed a moment before they tackled crossing the lot and going up the steps. The miracle kid wowed them all again with his drive and his perseverance, but they needed to rein him in upon occasion when he did too much too fast. Hence tonight's plans.

After workout, Jace and Ray went home to spend some time with their kids. Brock and Trent headed over to Brock's to pick up Cerberus and would be grabbing pizzas on their way over to Clay's. He and Clay stopped for one beer at the bar, well, Clay actually had root beer, then they went to the store to buy brews for everyone. The plan was to get the kid to slow down and mellow out tonight.

Leaning on his trunk, Clay rested a moment, hoping his leg wouldn't give out on him. "She said they found their new guy, and Kasey took over as 2IC."

"I like Kasey, he'll do good. Let's get inside and you can rest, Mr. Macho."

Clay chuckled, not feeling so manly lately … far from it. He pushed off his car, and started forward at a slow pace, regretting with each step pressing his limits today.

Sonny watched Clay's pained attempt at appearing normal. He stopped his little brother halfway there. "Here, you hold one. I need a free hand in case you decide you want to view the asphalt up close and personal."

A heavy sigh escaped Clay, but he took one of the six-packs, conceding the possibility and accepting the mother-henning in lieu of ending up on the ground. They took four steps towards the building when an all too familiar and unwanted voice stopped Clay in his tracks.

"Son, can we talk?" Ash Spenser called out as he rushed forward. He staked out the lot, hoping to catch him alone, but someone was always with him. No longer wanting to wait, he decided to approach him tonight.

Clay's expression turned to stone as he pivoted to face his father. "What do you want, Ash?"

Sonny glared at the former SEAL, a man who broke faith with the brotherhood and exposed things that should remain confidential. Things which put every one of them at risk in the field.

Ash stopped three paces away, eyed the burly man next to his son, knowing it wasn't Hayes, and not caring who he might be. "Tell me why you hit me in the bar. What did I do to deserve it?"

Sonny snorted.

Clay's brows arched. "Don't play stupid. I'm not and neither are you. I'm through with being manipulated by you. I never want to see you again."

"But, Clay … why?" Ash took a step closer, his anger rising.

"I have nothing more to say. We're done." Clay started to turn, his reaction fast enough to duck the punch thrown at him.

Sonny's fist connected with Ash's mandible, knocking the man back and to the side, as he yelled, "No one hurts my brother."

Having arrived in time to witness the words and the altercation, Jason, Ray, Brock, and Trent strode over and stood behind Clay and Sonny, lending their silent support. Cerberus pulled on his lead, growling and baring his teeth at Ash.

Rubbing his lower jaw, Ash took a step back noting the arrival of the others. He squared his shoulders and with his most menacing tone, addressed the man who struck him. "That is assault. I will press charges."

"Go ahead and try. You threw the first punch. I'm sure the police will determine it was a defensive move," Clay stated.

Ash glared at his son. "You'll let him get away with hitting your father?"

"You're lucky he stopped at one," Jason interjected, surprised by Sonny's restraint.

"I suggest you leave," Ray said holding back the things he wanted to say. What kind of father tries to strike his own son, especially when it is clear he is injured and in no shape to fight? A malevolent ashhole.

"Clay, are you not man enough to talk to me without your bodyguards? Always needing someone else to fight your battles? There is no way in hell you will ever erase my footsteps," Ash bit out.

The conversation he had with his father in the motel parking lot came to mind. "That's what this is about? You're trying to ruin my career because I said I would erase your footsteps?"

"Ungrateful little shit. You wouldn't have even made it to green team without my legacy, my name."

"Your name. The name Ash Spenser is an anchor pulling me down. But no more. Brian was right, somethings you just have to let go, so I'm cutting you loose. You can never be what I wanted. Though related by blood, you have never been my father … only the sperm donor to my mom. You're a miserable excuse for a human. More concerned with looking in the mirror. I have family now … real family. People who care about me … something you never did."

Ash scoffed, "You think your team is family … that's some Seiver bullshit if I ever heard. You think they will stand by you when you can't operate anymore. No, they'll forget you ever existed."

Jason took a step forward, coming to his full imposing height, his eyes blazing. "The only person we will forget is you."

Clay's leg took that moment to go numb. He started to fall and five men reached out to grab him, preventing him from collapsing.

Ash stared. Not comprehending. "Were you hurt rescuing the Americans in Mozambique?"

"What?" Clay leaned more fully on Jason's sturdy arm since he was on his left side and wasn't holding anything in his hands.

"You, Bravo team rescued the five students," Ash stated but registered the blank expressions on all six men.

Trent said, "Pizza's getting cold. About time we head in, don't ya think?"

Clay turned with Jason's assistance and limped towards his building without another word to his father. After three steps, Ray took the six-pack from him.

Brock remained in place with Cerberus as the other men left.

Cerb continued a low, deep-throated, menacing growl.

In a soft voice, Brock said, "Get a good scent, Cerb. He is PNG. You will protect Clay from this ashhole if he ever comes around again."

Cerberus barked as if to say, "Roger." Then turned and padded after Brock, wanting to check to make sure his boy was okay.

Ash's jaw dropped as he stood watching everyone leave. He stormed off to his car determined to destroy his son's career. My next interview I will drop the bomb about Mozambique and make hints Clay provided me all the details. My malcontent son will be off Bravo Team by next month, especially if the asshole Admiral Droit investigates the claim.

Three Weeks Later – Virginia – DEVGRU TOC

Clay strolled into TOC, no indication of a limp left. He beamed because this morning he bested everyone on Bravo and Alpha as they ran the hills together. He was back and in tip-top shape and authorized for active duty.

"Well, it's about time you join us, Mr. Miracle," Sonny exclaimed.

Clay grinned … the number of nicknames just continued to grow. This one not as bad as others. He took his seat and turned his attention to the front where Blackburn stood.

"Thanks for coming in. We don't have a mission, but we do have some business to take care of."

The guys glanced at each other, wondering what was up, but when the door opened and Admiral Droit entered, they all rose and came to attention.

"At ease." Droit moved to the front and surveyed DEVGRU's best of the best as they took their seats. He cleared his throat. "Bravo team is to be commended for the successful rescue of Karen and Gareth Dilbert. Not your typical mission, but each of you performed admirably given difficult conditions. Special Warfare Operator Spenser, please rise."

Clay did as commanded, unsure what was going on, but noted the grins on his teammates, Davis, Ellis, and Blackburn.

"It is my honor to award you with a purple heart. The actions you took to protect a member of an allied force from certain death which resulted in life-threatening injuries to you are praiseworthy. As are your deeds on the island which lead to locating the Dilberts." Droit moved to Spenser and handed him a small velveteen box, and offered him a handshake.

Clay took the box, it would go in the drawer next to all his other purple hearts. Awards were not his thing, but he accepted it with grace and shook the admiral's hand. "Thank you, sir."

Returning to the front, Droit waited until Spenser resumed his seat. "We have one more matter to address. What I share here must remain in this room."

The team all shifted, giving Droit their undivided attention.

"We experienced a security breach. After a thorough investigation, we determined Petty Officer Marmoset, who recently joined Bravo support, is the mole who supplied Ash Spenser detail on the Saudi mission. As part of a plea deal, Marmoset assisted us with a sting operation to provide additional incorrect details to Ash and money exchanged hands for said intel.

"Recordings of the meeting have been turned over to the proper authorities who will pursue all legal recourses. I am sharing this with you because I want to make it clear that the chain of command fully acknowledges Clay Spenser had no hand in passing intel to his father."

Clay's jaw dropped, but then a smile formed as he said, "Thank you, sir."

Drawing in a breath, Droit focused on Clay. "Young man, you are not your father. You are honorable, loyal, and possess a genuine concern for others. In due time, when the name Spenser is spoken in these halls, the first thought in anyone's mind will be Clay Spenser. Your brightness will eclipse his shadow, and Ash will be forgotten. It is a distinct pleasure to have a sailor of your caliber under my command."

Astounded by the praise, Clay remained mum.

Droit grinned and chuckled finding it humorous he silenced a Spenser. "Good day, all." He strode from the room, unsure what would happen to Ash, but not really caring. His concern lay with the exceptional SEAL sitting in the TOC and he would go to the mat to defend Clay Spenser from any and all detractors … even the kid's own father.

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AN: Sorry for the long wait, real life got in the way and reduced the amount of time I had to write. Hope this was worth the wait and gave everyone, who like me is jonesing for an episode, a little SEAL Team fix while we wait until March.

This story may turn out to be quite AU depending on what they do with the Ash situation in the series, but this is my take on it. I don't like Ash and it shows.

My excel file of contributors took a crash ... I will update this chapter with the list once I recreate it. Suggestions for N and O are most welcome.

AN: Thanks to the keen eye of a fantastic reader. I have made a couple of changes in this story and previous ones with General Droit. I mixed up my service ranks ... SEALs are Navy, therefore General Droit should be Admiral Droit, and all references to soldiers should be sailors. Going back to clean up my mistakes.

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For those of you who love whump, you might want to check out my Beauty of Life series ... chocked full of whump and brotherhood with a little romance. Available on Amazon in both ebook and paperback formats ... just search for Laura Acton.

For my readers patiently waiting for the 9th book in my Beauty of Life series, I can tell you OUTCAST: Trust, Friendship, and Injustice is close to completion. I'm currently working on chapter 58 and if everything works in my favor, I hope to have it published/available on Amazon in 2 or 3 weeks. But for now ... here is a little sneak peek from chapter 3 ...

May 7
Alley – 7:00 a.m.

Adrenaline pumping through his veins, dulling the pain in his bicep, and reawakening his somewhat dormant soldier senses which kept him and his unit brothers alive for six years, Dan tugged out his earbuds. Peeking over the crates, he scanned the quiet street beyond for the presence of a continued threat. Clear for the moment he stole a glance at his bloody arm. Yeah, only a graze. Not too deep, but gonna leave another scar.

His gaze returned to the rooftop across from him, searching for the sniper, analyzing the situation, and weighing prospects for the perch. The stench of rotting food in the communal dumpster in the alley obliterated any other odors. Given his location, an older section of the city occupied by mostly elderly residents with infrequent pedestrian and vehicular traffic at all hours of the day reduced Dan's worry for civilian involvement.

Though instructed not to contact any of the team, Dan realized TRF needed to be aware of an active shooter. After retrieving his cell from his front pocket, he clamped his hand on his wound again to stem the oozing. Choosing Boss' contact, his thumb hovered over the button as the hairs on the back of his neck prickled with a sense of danger and his ears picked up a soft footfall.

Before Dan could reach for his k-bar and pivot to check out who stood behind him, a voice ordered, "Drop the cell, raise your hands, and turn around or I shoot."

Dan partially complied. Releasing the hold on his arm, he stood and turned while lifting his hands, but he didn't drop his phone. Dread crept in as he faced two masked men aiming pistols with suppressors at him. He noted their positions, assessing his options. One closer than the other, but even with his speed and agility, both were too far away for an effective offensive move.

I'm at a significant disadvantage. I might be able to grab my knife and disable one, but the other will have the opportunity to fire before I can disarm him or take cover. Drawing on training, attempting to slow things down and gain a modicum of control, Dan remained calm. "What do you want?"

The same voice as before came from the man closest to him as he demanded again, "Constable Broderick, I said drop your phone."

Hiding the shock which rippled through him as the man called him by name, Dan's mind worked fast. One question answered. This isn't random. His voice sounds somewhat familiar, but I can't place him.

"I hate to repeat myself. I said let the phone fall, or you're dead where you stand. I'd be happy to put a bullet in your brain."

When both pistols leveled at his head, Dan touched call before he obeyed. As his mobile phone smacked the asphalt and bounced, he hoped the protective casing prevented it from breaking, and the call connected.

"Assume the position, turn around, put your hands against the wall, and spread your feet. Slow like. No sudden moves or they'll be your last," the armed assailant ordered.

With no options at the moment, as much as it galled him, Dan again submitted. He pivoted and placed both hands on the brick building. Pressing hard, he ensured he left a bloody handprint as his brain sought ways to stall for time. He calculated TRF's response time to this section of the city, and he needed about ten minutes.

Old fears of being taken captive tried to escape his mental lockbox. When one comes close, I can make a move. I will not go down meekly. I refuse to be taken again. As the second man came forward, Dan twisted and swung at the same time, landing a solid blow with his left fist.

Using his dominant hand to strike out had been natural, but the wrong move as it put his wound near his assailant. The stinging reciprocal blow delivered by the man to his injured bicep momentarily gave his aggressor the upper hand, enabling him to ram a pistol butt into Dan's cheek, knocking him back towards the crates. Seeking to immobilize him, his attacker grabbed and spun him, slamming his forehead into the bricks, then seized his wrist before forcibly twisting his arm behind his back.

Dan thrashed, until the muzzle of a Glock held by the other man pressed against his temple and the man growled, "Keep fighting, please. I'll happily decorate this wall with your brains."

Flicking his eyes right, Dan glimpsed his assailant's expression of malevolent pleasure and believed the explicit threat delivered in the man's maniacal tone. Self-preservation kicked in, and he went stock still when the one he hit methodically searched him and confiscated the tactical knife he always carried on his runs.

Hoping Boss answered and now listened, Dan spoke louder than necessary, "You can remove the gun from my temple. I'm cooperating now. I'm unarmed since you took my knife."

The weapon stayed in place as thug number two pushed him harder into the building and grabbed his other wrist, wrenching both arms painfully high before binding his hands with zip-ties. Manhandled, his body whipped around, causing his back to collide with the unforgiving, brick wall, Dan faced them again. Still needing to delay them, and give Boss more clues to his situation, Dan probed, "What do you want from me?"

Stepping back, but still leveling his gun at Dan, the one who spoke before replied, "We're waiting."

Dan frantically searched his memory for an identity to assign to the voice as a third man wearing a ski mask joined them. He noted the padded rifle case slung over his shoulder. Dan pinned his icy gaze directly on the new arrival. "You're the sniper who shot me. Why?"

The men remained silent, and Dan wondered why they waited since their attack on him appeared well-planned. To set this up, they must've been watching me long enough to know my routes. Worry for Lexa intensified as he thought about how the BDC stalked them all. In her current condition, Lexa would be vulnerable whether she admitted it or not.

Mentally sifting through several questions, Dan sought to understand who these men were. Is this gang related? Are the Nores brothers out for revenge? Could this be connected to the Cignottis? Would either know me? No, my identity was not publicized when I neutralized Narciso and Pablo. Wait, Settimo Bewick knows my name and that I'm a cop. Could he be behind this attack?

"WHO THE HELL ARE YOU THREE? WHY DID YOU BIND MY HANDS?" Dan shouted trying to feed his team more information.

His questions again ignored as a phone rang. The only one to speak so far answered, "Boss?" He paused, listened, and said, "Yes," before disconnecting. A grin grew as he turned to his cronies. "It begins. Time to make him suffer."