Nightmares and Nurturing
Clay's Apartment
"No. No. Noooo," vehemently emitted as he tossed and turned. The ground rushed up … it wouldn't be long before he impacted. Wind stole his screams … sending them upward as he prayed the reserve chute opened. "Noooooooooo!" His shoulder shaking forcefully brought him out of his nightmare. Taking several shaking breaths, he peered into concerned blue eyes.
"Nightmare? You okay?" Clay asked as he sat on the coffee table in front of his couch and gazed at Sonny. His brother's cries woke him from a sound sleep.
Running a hand over his forehead and into his dark hair, Sonny shifted, so he sat rather than laid. Placing his bare feet on terra firma, he couldn't resist his other hand snaking out and patting the kid's knee to ensure he was, in fact, real and not a figment of his overactive imagination.
"Wanna talk about it?" Clay set his hand over Sonny's, still surprised the strong man was having a nightmare on his couch. He wondered if it was a shark dream, but then realized it might be about his near death in the sub tube. That one still haunted Clay's dreams on occasion.
Quinn shook his head. "Nah … it was nothing." He stared at the blond kid. He couldn't get the thoughts of almost watching his little brother plummet to the earth in Nepal out of his head. They couldn't find out what the malfunction with his chute was because said chute disappeared along with the rest of the kid's gear. They forgot to ask about it when in Tibet … too focused on getting Clay to medical help.
Clay stood, not wanting to push. "K. Want something to drink … like water or juice?"
"Sorry to wake you. I'm supposed to be here taking care of you." Sonny let out another ragged breath and leaned back.
Wanting Sonny not to worry, Clay said, "Didn't wake me. Was just coming to pour myself some orange juice." He grabbed two glasses and poured one for both even though Sonny never answered him. Returning he handed one to Sonny then drank half of his.
Sonny toyed with the glass as he considered whether or not to talk to Clay. The kid shared his nightmares with him when he was in Mexico. Sonny shook his head. Nope, not gonna burden him with my fears. He is probably scared to death to parachute again, and if not I don't want to put anything into his mind.
"What time is it?" Sonny asked before he took a sip.
"Just after five. Since we're both up … want to go for a walk?" Clay glanced around his apartment. He was going a bit stir crazy. He had been out of the hospital for a week now. On the mend, but not allowed to do much, not even jog, though in truth he wasn't up to jogging yet … but a walk would be nice.
Sonny grinned. "Sure. Let's head to the café down the street. They've got great waffles." He grabbed his jeans lying over the armrest and tugged them on before reaching for his socks, tucked into his shoes.
Clay pivoted and said, "Give me a few minutes … need to change the bandage on my thigh."
"Need help with your back?"
"Yeah. I'll holler when I'm ready." Clay shut his bedroom door, and he leaned his head on the wall. He hated to admit, but he needed the help and was thankful Sonny stayed here with him. He hadn't thought about the fact he wouldn't be able to change the dressings on his back himself.
He carefully pulled his damp t-shirt up and off, tossing it in his hamper on the way to the bathroom. His nightmares had been unrelenting lately, leaving him sweating bullets when he woke, but at least he didn't cry out at night, so Sonny remained unaware.
Clay stared at his reflection. "Wouldn't have been a pretty sight if the reserve chute didn't open. Would've been a closed casket funeral like Brian's and Adam's." Shaking the thoughts from his mind, Clay set about washing his hands before changing the bandage over his thigh graft. He became fastidious … not wanting to introduce any bacteria because he didn't want to go through hell again or have the graft fail and need to be redone.
As he dried both hands, his eyes landed on his pain meds. He avoided taking them like the plague. He would rather endure pain than chance becoming addicted, though Dr. Irving and Trent assured him this particular painkiller was non-habit forming. The risk was too great in his mind, and he worked too hard earning a spot on a top-tier team to throw it away by becoming hooked on drugs.
After changing the gauze on his leg, Clay tugged on a soft pair of sweats and chose to wear flip flops, because it required less bending and as a result, less pulling on his back. Once finished he opened the bedroom door. "Ready when you are."
"Let me wash up first, and I'll be right there," Sonny replied and then scrubbed his hands as if he was a surgeon about to operate. Then he picked up the bucket of supplies Trent put together and went to Clay's room.
He found the kid sitting on the edge of the bed and sat next to him. He pulled on a pair of gloves and began the process of removing the dressings, gently cleansing and drying the grafts, and recovering them with sterile gauze. "The docs did a great job. They even grafted the area where Carlson burned you with a poker."
"Yeah, though by necessity, not choice." Clay had yet to look at his back … he really didn't want to view the patchwork … especially if it looked anything like his thigh. Though not vain, and assured by the burn care doctors they would heal and not be too visible, he did wonder how women would react to his body.
His phone buzzing pulled him from his thoughts, and he scooted forward to grab his cell from the nightstand. He chuckled, wondering if she could read his mind. He answered with a true brightness in his tone. "Hey, Beautiful."
Sonny wondered who called until Clay's next words, which brought a genuine smile to his face.
"What time is it down under?"
"Not sure. Just landed at Norfolk International."
"What are you doing here?"
"Well, I got two weeks leave … Koala, Danvers, Riley, and our rookie all came down with a nasty case of norovirus, so we are stood down, and I figured I'd come visit my ex-husband." Katie chuckled. "I hope now isn't a bad time. It's probably not the best idea to fly around the world unannounced, especially given your job, but hey, I wanted to see you and well, … I hopped on a plane."
"Couldn't be better timing. I can come pick you up," he turned to peer at Sonny, "um, wait, hang on a moment."
"Where and when?" Sonny asked.
"Norfolk International, now," Clay said, realizing he had not been cleared to drive.
"No problem … we'll grab breakfast on the way back."
"Sonny's gonna drive me there. We'll head out in a few minutes." Clay grinned. He could use a dose of Katie Kilpatrick.
"Um, Clay, … are you alright?" Katie halted near a bank of chairs.
"Tell you about it after we pick you up. Sorry to hear Koala is sick, but I'm glad you decided to come. I'll call you once we are close."
"K. See ya in a bit." Katie hung up. Clay's voice held a note of something that worried her, and she was glad she followed her intuition.
"So, the wifey decided to come for a visit?" Sonny chuckled.
Clay grinned. "Yep." He sighed. Katie is nonjudgmental and I can talk to her without fear of causing my brothers more worry.
Sonny finished up and then went to the bathroom to grab one of Clay's pain pills after he noticed the kid grimace as he pulled on a clean t-shirt. "Take this … you need it, and you don't want to be wincing in front of wifey now do you."
Clay took the pill and popped it in, dry swallowing, getting a satisfied smirk from Sonny. "Let's go."
Breakfast Café
Sonny requested a table rather than a booth because it was easier for Clay to get up and down without sliding. He grinned at Katie as he placed his cowboy hat on the empty fourth seat. "How long are you planning on staying?"
"About nine days. Need a bit of time to reacclimate upon my return … Koala wouldn't appreciate me being jet-lagged."
"Perfect … just about the amount of time Garfield here needs to lounge around and do nothing but eat lasagna." Sonny chuckled at the sour expression Clay shot his way.
"Okay, so I can tell you hurt, what happened?" Katie clasped Clay's hand, but his explanation had to wait until the waitress took their order.
"My main chute failed to open … landed in some trees … some other crap happened, but I'm okay." Clay downplayed and remained vague never knowing what ears might be around, and as much as he liked Katie, she wasn't cleared to know the details.
"Ouch, sounds painful." Katie squeezed his hand.
"That's an understatement," Sonny interjected.
Katie eyed Clay but understood not to ask more in public. He would explain what he could later in private. "So no chance of you being spun up while I'm here. My timing was perfect. Perhaps a day at the beach? Maybe some surfing? Or just lazing in the sand."
Clay shook his head. "Maybe a short walk, but I can't be in the sun much … swimming is out." Clay changed the subject. "Why didn't you head home for your break. Bet your grandparents would've been happy to have you visit."
Katie grinned. "They set out on a three-week cruise one day before I found out I would have time off. Could've joined them, but a cruise ship filled with nothing but oldies didn't sound as much fun as popping over here."
Clay chuckled. "You might've had more excitement on the oldies cruise than you will here. I'm pretty much relegated to my place. This is the first time out of my apartment in the last week."
"I'd be happy to show Katie around," Sonny suggested just to get a rise out of the kid. He liked tugging his tail.
"No. Um, well, maybe if that is what Katie wants …" Clay reacted but then trailed off as he realized Sonny was only teasing.
Waffles, pancakes, and omelets were delivered, interrupting the conversation. Katie asked the waitress, "Do you have Nutella?"
"Yes, I'll bring some in a moment."
After the chocolatey spread was handed over, Katie slathered on a thick amount on her pancakes. "Can't have enough of this. If people wouldn't stare, I'd eat the stuff right out of the jar."
Clay dug into his eggs, happy to eat something other than hospital food and Sonny's burnt toast and bagels for breakfast. Lunches weren't so bad … Sonny couldn't screw up sandwiches, and dinners had been great with the meals Lisa, Naima, and Jason's mom prepared for them to reheat.
After sating his hunger, Clay asked, "Where are you planning on staying? If you haven't booked a hotel … you could stay at my place."
Sonny kept quiet and smiled as Katie answered the way he wanted.
"I didn't book one because I wasn't sure if you would be here. Thought I would travel the states a bit if you were busy. I'd love to crash at your place."
"Do you cook?" Sonny asked.
"Yeah, why?" Katie glanced between Clay and Sonny as she read the humor between them.
"Sonny's been trying to kill me with burnt toast … swear my smoke alarm has gone off every day."
Sonny rolled his eyes. "Now that ain't true."
"Is too. Need to buy a new toaster after yesterday's fire."
"Hey … not my fault, those onions on the outside of the bagels you like wouldn't have ignited if the pop-up mechanism worked properly."
"How about we swing by a grocery store on the way to your place if you are up for a little walk? I'll make lasagna for dinner since Sonny says you are supposed to lounge around." Katie took another bite of her Nutella laden pancakes.
"Yeah, I'm up for that." Clay grinned, having Katie here would be fun … breakfast this morning was just the right amount of normalcy he needed to help him deal with everything in his life.
Bravo Equipment Cages
Jason peered up as the door opened and demanded, "What are you doing here? Who is with Clay?"
"Hold on there … no need to go all neurotic neanderthal on me," Sonny drawled. "Left him in excellent hands. His wifey is all nurturing, and as I recall was on the path to becoming a doctor before switching to be a pilot then joining SAS."
"Katie's here?" Jason set his rifle down.
"Yes, siree. Flew in this morning. She's got nine days off to pamper our boy. From the looks of our shopping trip, he's gonna be well nourished." Sonny sauntered over to his cage and opened it up, realizing the questions would fly at him.
"Did she know he was injured?" Ray strolled out of his area.
"Nope, but Clay explained what he could once we arrived back at his apartment. No mission specifics, but she is aware of the skin grafts. She told me she is versed in caring for burns and grafts. Seems her father had some at one point in his career and she nursed him back to health."
Brock patted Cerb's head, the bald spot almost gone now as new hair grew where Clay yanked it out. None of them ever told the kid what happened; they just went with Sonny's initial story. "Kid needs someone to talk too. I hope he opens up with Katie. Did he have a nightmare again last night?"
"Yeah, a doosey, but like the rest, he doesn't recall waking or crying out, or he is trying to pretend like they aren't occurring. He woke up at two this morning puking and sweating — damn good thing he has many t-shirts the same color. I dropped off the laundry to Lisa … so Young Buck isn't the wiser that I cleaned him up and put him back to bed. I clued Katie in on things when I sent Clay to take out the garbage." Sonny took a seat on his box.
"She okay with playing nursemaid to him?" Trent moved towards Sonny.
"Yeah, but I plan on staying a few more nights … in case she needs help. Don't think this is quite what she planned for her vacation, but she seems to care a lot about him and didn't flinch away from what he needs. Hell, I think Katie might be the answer to all Ray's prayers."
"God does work in mysterious ways. Sent an earthly angel to help the kid." Ray grinned and sent a silent thank you to the man upstairs.
Clay's Apartment
A wonderful aroma enticed Clay from his nap. He had not planned on nodding off, but apparently, the walk around the grocery store and two trips up and down the stairs to his place wore him out. He blinked his lids open and twisted his head towards the kitchen. Katie's wheat blonde hair caught the sunlight, creating a golden halo around her lovely face.
"Smells delicious … lasagna?" Clay shifted up, wincing slightly as his mostly unused muscles complained. Five weeks of doing nothing except lying in bed or sitting on his couch left him weak like a newborn.
In the process of slicing carrots for the salad to go with the main dish, Katie set the paring knife down and peered at Clay. "You're awake. How did you sleep?"
"Decent. What time is it?"
Picking up the knife again and continuing, Katie answered, "Almost five. Told Sonny to invite all of the team over … there will be more than enough. I never learned to cook for two. Nana always fed all the hands who worked at the station, so dinner usually meant cooking for a dozen men with hearty appetites."
"A woman of many talents." Clay stood and wandered to the counter separating the two rooms. He snagged a carrot and munched on it. "So, the whole team is coming?"
"Yeah. And Davis too." Katie grinned. "I like her. She would make an exceptional officer."
"Funny you should say that. She's going to OCS. We're gonna miss her when she's gone. She works magic, and we always have exactly what we need on a mission."
Katie nodded as Clay munched on the vegetables she intended for the salad, but since he slept through lunch, heck most of the afternoon, she realized he must be hungry, and she could always chop more veggies.
She decided to hold off broaching the subjects which concerned her … she would have time enough in the next nine days. Tonight, Katie would simply smile and ensure Clay enjoyed a lighthearted evening. She found it surprising Sonny confided in her regarding Clay's struggles, but she was glad he did. With a little luck, she might be able to help him work through his nightmares.
Clay snagged another piece of celery then realized he made a huge dent in what must be for the dinner salad. "Um, sorry."
"Eat up. You missed lunch, and you're due for your meds … shouldn't take them on an empty stomach."
"Don't need meds." Clay popped another olive in his mouth.
Katie waggled the little knife at him. "Don't be naughty and make me put you in a headlock to force them down your throat. Controlling your pain will help speed your rehab … and I'm here to help you do that. After everyone leaves, we'll work on some gentle stretches, and I'll give you a massage, so you're not so stiff."
Unable to stop the chuckle, Clay's mind ended up squarely in the gutter … her hands stroking his body would definitely make a certain part of his anatomy stiff. He shifted … the very thought of the time they shared as a pretend newlywed couple caused him to stiffen. To avoid an embarrassing tent, Clay headed for the bathroom to grab his meds.
Watching Clay's slow gait, Katie smiled. "Don't you be getting any ideas. We're divorced, remember?"
"Me? Ideas? I'm not the one who mentioned massages," Clay threw over his shoulder as he recalled the first time they engaged in bedsports. It started with an innocent offer of a massage after a day of kayaking.
Lisa's Apartment
"No. Oh, God … no." Lisa moaned as she tossed and turned in the throes of another nightmare. She jolted up in her bed, and the tears started again. Glancing to her right, she found Sonny staring at her with eyes full of concern.
Awoken by Lisa's cries, having been attuned to listening for Clay's nightmares the past week, finding it was Lisa worried him. Sonny held off reaching for her … unsure what type of comfort she might accept. "Hey …"
Lisa shifted and lay on Sonny. "Hold me."
His strong arms came around her smaller body, and he stroked her hair. "I'm here …" he was unsure what else to say. He wasn't all that good at relationships, and he didn't want to take a wrong step. When they left Clay's after a lighthearted night of hanging out and a delicious meal, Lisa suggested he come over, and he wasn't about to decline.
Blowing out a shaky breath, Lisa buried herself in the crook of Sonny's shoulder. Usually, a strong woman the last two missions threw her off balance. First Sonny almost died in the tube, and then Clay almost plummeted to his death. "This is my fault."
"What?" Confused, Sonny wanted to push Lisa back to read her face, but he kept her exactly where she was … especially when she clung tightly to him. This was a new side of Lisa he had never experienced … vulnerability.
"Clay … I'm responsible for his gear … the parachute … I almost killed him."
Sonny pushed her back and sat up. "Wait … No! Don't you go there! That isn't your fault. No way in hell."
Surprised by the vehemence of Sonny's reaction, Lisa stared. "But I—"
"But nothing. Listen here, missy. Yeah, we joke about you packing our chutes, but we all know riggers do the chutes. You only make sure they are on the plane. We'll never know what caused the main to fail because none of us thought about searching for his chute or the log to know who packed it."
Lisa swiped a hand across her eyes. "You don't blame me?"
"No … never in a million years. And neither does anyone else on Bravo … not even Goldilocks." Sonny pulled Lisa to him again. "Now, you get that nasty thought out of your head. Shit happens … part and parcel with this job."
Allowing herself to meld into Sonny's comfort, something she never thought possible, new tears fell. Unsure whether she should take the risk since neither possessed a decent track record with relationships, she would allow herself this night of solace in the arms of a man she … well, she still wasn't sure if it was love, but she would like to find out.
As they lay down, Lisa's mind, now cleared of the guilt she had been carrying ever since the HAHO jump into Nepal, lit upon something which might solve the mystery. "I can find out who packed the chute."
"You can? How?"
"Part of my job is to inventory everything. By process of elimination, since we have everyone's chutes except Clay's I can determine which rigger packed his chute. But that won't necessarily tell us what caused the failure." Lisa snuggled closer, sleep now a possibility.
"No, but it will give us someone to go talk to," Sonny grinned. A long overdue conversation … someone needed to be held accountable for the chute failure … he just didn't know if it was bad luck or something nefarious, but what he did know was he would find out. His fingers glided up and down Lisa's silky skin, enjoying her in his arms.
Trent's Place
Sliding out of bed, so he didn't disturb Dawn who slept soundly, Trent wandered to the kitchen and opened the fridge. His hand went straight for a beer, but at the last second, he deviated and latched onto a water bottle. He shut the door and raked a hand through his sweaty hair as he shuffled to the arcadia door leading to his balcony.
Outside he uncapped the bottle and guzzled half as he stared up at the moon. Before the mission in Nepal, he never had difficulty sleeping … never plagued by nightmares … but ever since returning home, not a night went by he didn't wake sweating and shaking. He lost teammates before … Nate the most recent, but his mind logically understood he couldn't save everyone. Nate had been dead before anyone realized he was bleeding, and even if they had … the bullets destroyed his carotid, and he was beyond saving.
However, … Clay … their rookie. He couldn't get the soft begging to quit haunting his dreams … turning them into frigging nightmares. Needy, blood-filled, blue eyes would stare at him as the kid pleaded for relief … which he denied him every time like some disgusting, evil bastard.
Never before had he ever caused someone such pain. Yeah, sure he set some nasty compound fractures, used tourniquets on blown off limbs, put pressure on gapping gut wounds … but in every case, he was able to shoot his patient with some morphine. But for Clay, he couldn't and ah hell that hurt him too … deep inside … in a place he kept hidden from everyone. A compartment where he shoved all his emotions while he did what was necessary to save a life rather than providing nurturing, so he could become numb to the noxious things he must sometimes do … like denying Clay any relief.
Dawn slipped her hands around Trent's waist as her head came to rest on his shoulder. "Trouble sleeping?"
Trent lay a hand over hers at his midsection and let out a soft sigh. "No, only thirsty."
"Hmmm … you've been thirsty every night since you returned. Talk to me. Something is clearly bothering you."
"Nothing to talk about." Trent twisted around in her arms, so he was facing her and bent his head to kiss her.
After their lips separated, Dawn said, "Liar."
"What?" Trent blinked. His ex-wife never called him on the carpet when he deflected. Not that she ever asked him about his job or ever noticed when something troubled him. But Dawn wasn't his ex, and she seemed more perceptive.
"I realize you can't tell me anything of your mission … but ever since you've been back, you don't sleep through the night. And you are tossing and turning a lot more than normal. I'm a decent listener, and sometimes it just helps to say out loud what is disturbing you … a way to set it free." Dawn peered up at Trent, hopeful he would let her in, and she might be able to help silence the noise in his mind and nourish his soul.
Not a man of many words, he embraced Dawn tucking her head into his shoulder as he said words he never thought he would give voice to, "I hate being a medic sometimes … it is so hard. I had to hurt my brother to save him … he begs me every night to stop his pain and every time I tell him no."
Understanding lit in Dawn's mind. "Clay is alive because of you."
His eyes popping wide, he pushed Dawn back. "How do you know that?"
"Well, I overheard you on the phone with Dr. Irving a couple of times checking on Clay since you returned. You're still worried he might become addicted to pain med. He was burned, and I put two and two together."
Dawn caressed Trent's cheek. "You carry a heavy burden … one as weighty if not more substantial than Hayes. Your ability to take care of your brothers when they need you most … utterly amazing. Something you should be proud of … I know I am. You, Trent Sawyer, are my Knight-errant, a noble and chivalric man with a heart of pure gold and skilled hands."
She kissed him and then whispered, "Come back to bed … and put those hands to good use. She clasped his hand, and led him inside … a little distraction would help ease his burden now, and a little exertion would help him sleep the remainder of the night. Tomorrow she would encourage him to talk more and unburden his worries to her … she would help him find peace.
Ray's Home
Standing in the doorway of his son's room, Ray wondered about the evil in the world. How would God allow children to be sold into slavery? Innocent souls being destroyed for mere greed. He lifted a glass to his lips and took a long draw. The burn of the single malt whiskey caused him to pause. What the hell am I doing?
From their bedroom, Naima observed Ray, and her concern spiked, but she was at a loss how to help him lately. His crisis of faith was taking a toll, and this last mission seemed to enlarge instead of narrow the chasm. If she didn't figure something out, she might lose the man she loved.
Turning, Ray's eyes landed on Naima at the same time he squeezed too hard and the glass shattered in his hand, slicing his thumb.
"Raymond!" Naima rushed forward her hands going directly to his, applying pressure to the cut. She pulled him with her to the bathroom across the hall.
Allowing his wife to rinse his bloody hand as he stared at the pinkish liquid swirling down the drain and images of the blood-filled glass cups on Clay's back came to mind. "Evil exists. Nothing I do stops it. Thought I made a difference and good would ultimately win," he mumbled.
Naima caught the whiff of whiskey on Ray's breath. Noting the cut was shallow, nothing which would require stitches, she grabbed a towel and guided him to the tub's edge and made him sit. "Let me bandage this, and then I'll clean up the shattered glass."
Ray met Naima's eyes. "I'm adrift."
Wrapping a towel around his hand first, Naima pulled her husband into her arms. "I'm your anchor. Hold on … I won't let go, baby." Ray shuddered in her arms, and she held fast. Burly Navy SEALs needed to cry upon occasion, and her husband needed an outlet for whatever horrors he had witnessed and endured lately.
His world had begun to spin out of control after Mexico, and Naima was uncertain if it had to do with almost losing Clay to a psychotic narcotics kingpin or something else … though she strongly suspected something shook his foundations.
"Mommy, is Daddy hurt?"
Ray lifted his head, tears in his eyes as he peered at his baby girl.
Naima released Ray, pivoted and stood. "Yes. He cut his hand. Mommy is washing it out."
"He's crying." Jameelah's eyes widened with concern.
Naima took their daughter's hand and led her back to her bedroom. After settling her in bed and tucking her in, she said, "Daddy is just fine …" she lied, well partially, with prayer and the grace of God she would find out what Ray needed and help him.
"Daddy's don't cry."
"Yes, they do, but not often. Daddy's sometimes need a good cry like us to feel better afterward."
Jameelah accepted what her mom said. "Hug Daddy and tell him I love him."
Naima smiled. "I will, and you can tell him at breakfast tomorrow too." She shut the door on her way out, and upon turning to go back to the bathroom, she spotted Ray with the trash bin picking up shards of glass from the floor. "Let me do that."
Ray shook his head. "My mess to clean up." He held his still bleeding hand close to his chest.
She knelt beside him and assisted, the clinking of broken glass the only sound. Once the task was finished, Naima grabbed the bin and Ray's uninjured hand and took both to the kitchen. She opened the cupboard and withdrew their first aid kit. "Sit and let me take care of you."
Using an antiseptic wipe, she cleaned the cut, put on a dab on antibiotic ointment and adhered a band-aid. Then she clasped his hand in both of hers and brought it to her heart. "Talk to me, baby. Tell me what is in your mind."
Ray allowed the tears to well once more. "So much … too much."
"One thing then … just one," Naima encouraged. It would only take one thing to lance the necrotic wound then she could help neutralize the festering infection before it consumed the man she loved dearly.
As a tear slipped out and rolled down, Ray said, "Jameelah is the same age as one of the girls we rescued from a brothel." He sucked in a shuddery breath. "Just a baby … and evil, such evil perpetrated on someone so innocent. Why would God allow such a thing?"
Naima swallowed hard, but her voice came out calm. "God sent you and your team to rescue her. You make a difference … because of you, that little girl will live a vastly different life now. The light must constantly fight against the dark … for if those who stand for good stop, the flame of all we believe will extinguish and light will be non-existent, and all will become dark."
She raised his hand to her lips and kissed it. "Warriors such as you pay a huge price … what you endure, what you witness, and sometimes what you must do take a toll on your soul. But without you … then all is lost, and evil wins."
Ray bowed his head … his faith still shaken, but for now, he would allow Naima to be his mooring line … her hold would keep him from slipping until he sorted everything out. Lifting his head, he said, "Shall we go back to bed?"
Naima stood, and when Ray did, she wrapped one arm around his waist, while still holding fast to his hand as she navigated them to their room.
Jason's Home
Lying on the roller under his car, eyes closed, Jason sought to attain peace of mind. He had not been able to sleep much and woke at four this morning after another nightmare. Dreams of Clay hanging from a tree yelling for help as he turned his back on the kid and walked away haunted Jason since returning a week ago.
He decided to come out to the garage seeking calm, but it was not working. "Three hundred yards … only another fifteen minutes of searching and we would've had him. Only three—"
"And what about the women you saved? If you had continued after Clay … what of them? Perhaps your conversation would be, if only I had stopped looking for Clay and gone after them, they would be alive."
Jason pushed out from under the car and sat up … not believing his sight or ears. "Alana?"
"Answer me. What about those you saved? You arrived just as those men were about to rape them. They remained unharmed because you made the hard choice … the only one you could in your position."
"You can't be here … you're dead." Jason blinked, and when she remained, he shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut.
"Open your eyes. I'm not going anywhere. Now answer my question." Alana sat in front of Jason.
Cracking his eyelids, Jason blew out a breath. "Sleep deprivation … you're a figment of my tired mind."
"Maybe … or maybe not. You gonna avoid giving me an answer? If so, I gotta tell ya … I can stay here all night. Heck, I can remain until you respond." Alana smiled.
Jason stared at his hallucination. "They might be dead … would've been raped, yes. Satisfied?"
"Question is, are you? And would Clay be satisfied with that outcome?"
"Why are you bringing up Clay?"
"Cause all this," Alana made a swirling motion near her head, "is because of a young man who you care deeply about. I'm not sure what it is about him, something nebulous and hard to define, but ever since Spenser joined your team, well, frankly you all have been a little different.
"As much as you loved Nate. And as much as you care for Ray, Sonny, Trent, Brock, and Cerberus too. You wouldn't be beating yourself to a pulp over the decision to go search for the women if it had been any one of them whose chute didn't open and they ended up off course and in a tree."
Jason gaped. "What the fuck, Alana? Yes, I would."
"Remember, I know you, Jason Hayes. No. You. Wouldn't." Alana arched a brow then she smiled. "Perhaps he needs a father figure, and you are willing to be that to him. I mean, you do refer to him as the Kid when he is a full-grown man and an elite SEAL too."
"We all call him Kid because he is the rookie and so damned young," Jason countered.
A lilting laugh filled the air. "Oh, Jace … do you hear yourself? Clay isn't any younger than you when you went to BUD/S and joined Bravo. He only seems young to you … well, because he has a boyish charm," Alana sighed, "and a vulnerability about him. He needs all of you … you are his only family."
Jason sagged against the car door and dropped his face into his hands. "And I left him hanging three hundred yards away and then he is tortured for two weeks. I sent him out in Mexico with Sonny, and he gets impaled and hoisted up by a whaling hook and almost hung off the side of a building.
"I nearly took his head off when he was a strap … after he probably saved our lives from a creeper in the tunnels. I made him run laps on the plane when he had a kidney infection and wouldn't listen to his explanation, and he almost died there too.
"He saves my ass on the oil platform … I lose him in Argentina, and he gets shot in the ass by a nutty woman who was hunting him for sport. I take him to Ecuador, and a narcissistic CIA operative knifes him, electrocutes him and takes a red-hot poker to his back. An in Australia he gets speared and nearly drowns. I'm gonna get that kid killed. I should've never drafted him. He would be safer with another team."
A hand landing on his shoulder brought Jason's head whipping up. Surprise lit his face. "Mandy?"
"Sorry, saw the light on, and heard you talking, so I came in." She crouched in front of Jason. "And you're wrong."
"Wrong?"
"About Clay being safer without you. You and the rest of the team are the reason he is well, still alive. He's a trouble magnet. Not his fault, but heck, if something is going to go wrong during a mission … he will be the first one touched by fate."
Mandy sat and continued, "You guys rescued him from that basement when you went after the downed drone. Also, from Dongola when he went with Delta. I can name so many incidents and every single one of them, if you ask Clay, he will say he was happy to be with Bravo and glad Jason Hayes is his team leader. He looks up to you all, but especially you."
Her expression became serious. "Every single one of you would have gone AWOL to find him. I'm sorry the deal I cut to make that happen required you to be gone for four weeks, but perhaps some good came from that too."
"Like what? We weren't here for him." Jason scanned the area, somewhat hoping to see Alana again, but the illusion of his soulmate was gone.
"How did he react when you entered his room?"
"Why?"
"It's important. What's the first thing the kid did?" Mandy pushed a little.
"Smiled and said 'A sight for sore eyes. You're back.'"
"Uh-huh, and what does that tell you?"
"Don't know. He knew we left him alone."
"Quit being a stubborn ass. You're not that naïve … never have been. His words tell you he knew you would visit when your job allowed and he didn't doubt it for a moment." She let Jason absorb that for several moments before she said, "It's okay you know?"
"What's okay?"
"To care about him … like a son. But it isn't okay or fair to place this burden on yourself. He chose this life. Spenser is fully aware of the risks just like the rest of you. It's not right to hold yourself to a different standard when it comes to Clay."
Jason pushed up to his feet. He didn't want to respond to her statement so found an out. "What are you doing here in the middle of the night? Don't you ever sleep?"
Mandy laughed as she rose too. "On occasion."
"And why are you here?"
"Truth?"
"Would be nice." Jason leaned against his car.
"Couldn't sleep. Was out driving around with no place in particular in mind and somehow ended up here. All those women and children you guys saved—"
"We saved … you included. Your intel put us in the right places," Jason interjected.
Mandy inhaled deeply and exhaled gradually. "Okay, yeah, not boots on the ground … okay. But, well, it just nauseates me how many people are still put in that position. Everywhere … we take down one bad guy, and another pops up."
She backed up to the wall, wondering why she ended up here, and glad Jason didn't ask her to clarify why. The only possible explanation she might give is that she found his company reassuring. She could talk to him … in some ways they were birds of a feather but in others quite different.
"It's nearly five. I'm not gonna fall back asleep tonight. Want some coffee?" Jason pushed off the car. For whatever reason Mandy showed up here … perhaps Alana in some way facilitated it, and he wouldn't look a gift horse in the mouth, cause if his kids found him talking to himself like Mandy had, they would worry his mind had flipped.
Mandy nodded and chuckled. "So, you finally learned how to use the coffee maker?"
"Nope, that's why I asked you if you wanted some." Jason grinned.
She laughed and followed Jason inside. It was good to have a friend to count on, especially with her nomadic lifestyle. Maintaining friendships outside of this life was difficult … mostly because anyone not living this kind of life, would never comprehend what they must mentally process daily.
Clay's Apartment
Trapped … on his stomach … fire eating at his back, Clay couldn't take any more and let out a scream.
"CLAY! CLAY!" Katie shouted. Clay had been moaning and whimpering in his sleep for several minutes, and she tried to wake him gently, but his scream changed her tactics. She shook him hard, needing to break through.
Sucking in a breath, Clay opened his eyes. He was not trapped, he could see … and what he glimpsed startled him. His one words came out with a rush of air, "Katie."
Moving close, compassion in her eyes, her fingers caressed Clay's cheek. "There you are. Worried me for a moment."
He allowed his lids to shut, embarrassed to be caught in a nightmare in front of her, but didn't pull away from her soft touch. "Sorry," he mumbled.
"Nothing to be sorry about. Want to tell me about it?"
"No, not really."
"Reliving the torture?"
"Yeah."
"Must've been frightening."
"Not really?"
"You certain?" Katie continued to stroke his face and began to trace his facial features, allowing her fingertip to follow his jawline.
"Mostly out of it. The woman who cared for me drugged me with opium and something else. All I really remember was pain when the drugs wore off, but if I stuck out my tongue, she gave me more." Clay opened his eyes to judge her reaction.
"So, in a way, she was trying to help you."
"Yeah. Trent said the quack caused all my pain … except for the thigh wound. Trent thinks I whacked my head on a branch or something and I was concussed. If they had just left me alone after cauterizing my leg then …" he trailed off.
"Still traumatic. Nightmares are normal. I know."
"You have them?"
Katie shook her head. "No. But Pops did after he was burned. His grafts covered the back of both calves. His legs got trapped when a building exploded, and it took some time for his squad to locate him and put out the fire. Could've been worse my pops always said. He could've died that day. But I got another ten years with him."
Getting up the nerve to ask, Clay said, "My back, how's it look? I haven't …" Clay halted.
"How about I take the bandages off, and you can shower? Then you can see your badges of courage for yourself before I put new dressings on."
Clay nodded and pushed up. The motion bringing to mind the memory of digging for morphine. He sat on his heels. He found it so easy to talk to Katie … he could never have this type of conversation with Stella. "The guys are worried I'm gonna go down the path of drug addiction. Sonny lost a friend … he OD."
"And you … are you worried?"
His eyes darted to the side a moment as he confessed, "Crossed my mind. I read up on it and morphine, and opium can be quite addictive. But I worked so hard to get where I'm at. I don't have to tell you the kind of drive it takes to make it into positions as we have. When we almost lost Sonny," Clay let out a ragged breath.
Katie ran her hand down Clay's arm. "Breathe … just breathe a moment."
Composing himself, Clay shared, "Sonny, said joining the teams was the best decision he ever made and the best decision I ever made too, and this is who we are. He's right. When I was in Green Team and made it to the end, one of my cohorts asked me which team I hoped would draft me. I said I hadn't thought about it. I lied. I ran once with Bravo, and that is where I wanted to end up. The guys, Davis, even Ellis … they're my family now."
Meeting Katie's gaze, Clay exhaled heavily again. "I don't want to let them down. If I don't have them … I don't have anyone."
"You have me. You're not going to let them down … or yourself. But I want you to promise me something."
"If I can."
Katie smiled. "If you ever … and I mean EVER feel the pull of narcotics you call one of your brothers or me. None of us will judge you, and we will help you through the rough patch. This is not something you have to do alone."
"You have my word." Clay leaned forward and kissed her. Pulling back, he grinned. "SEALed with a kiss."
"Mmmm might need a bit more SEALing. How about I wash your back for you in the shower?"
"I'm not supposed to exert myself," Clay joked as he tugged his shirt over his head and presented his back to Katie.
"Leave everything to me … no exertion necessary on your part," Katie reached out and carefully peeled off the tape holding the non-stick gauze in place. Upon viewing the reddened area, she spoke honestly, "In a year, these grafts will be mostly invisible. Whoever did these, possesses phenomenal skills. Even the one over your right kidney will be barely noticeable."
Brock's Home
Groggily Brock shuffled into the kitchen, noted the time to be eight a.m., and flicked on the coffee maker, glad he prepared it last night before attempting to sleep. Again, his slumber had been interrupted by nightmares. He couldn't seem to erase the memory of the blackened foot.
Yes, he reminded himself, it was not the kid's foot, which relieved him, but the gruesome murder of an innocent still plagued him. The charred extremity belonged to a young man who died a rather horrific death while trying to help Clay.
Slumping on to the stool at his island counter, waiting for the liquid caffeine to brew, Brock ran a hand through his mass of messy black curls. He realized he needed a haircut as much as Clay did. The others on the team, those with straight hair could get away with just slicking back long locks, but he, Ray and Clay couldn't. Their mops required trimming. Though luckily, only Spenser was ever teased about his long curls … mostly because they made him appear even younger than he was.
When the pot filled halfway, Brock rose and poured himself a cup, glad he sprang for an upgraded model which halted the drip when he removed the carafe mid-cycle. Returning to his seat, Brock took a much-needed sip after blowing on the hot coffee. He yawned and figured he only achieve four hours of rest … better than previous nights all week, but still a long way from normal.
Waking a bit more, Brock scanned the area, realizing Cerb had not followed him in like usual. Concerned, he set the mug down and went back to his bedroom in search of his dog. Relief flooded in … not sure why he expected something else, but a niggling thought had him worrying about Cerberus. A slow grin grew as he leaned on the doorjamb staring at his pup.
The source of his worry popped in as Brock spied the material tucked under Cerb's head. He thought about the vet's supposition Cerb might be suffering from Dog PTSD before they were spun up for the rescue mission of Delta Team and Clay from Dongola. At the time he dismissed Dr. Denzel's assertations as being baseless.
Since returning though, Cerb's behavior nagged at him, and he began to wonder if DPTSD was real. His pup noiselessly padded around at all hours of the night … something he was only aware of now because he too was awake. On occasion, Cerb whimpered in his sleep, twitched, and made growling noises.
But last night, Cerb slept soundly … never moved from his spot on his plush bed in the corner. Now Brock knew why. Somehow, Brock was unsure how, because he certainly hadn't noticed yesterday when they left Clay's after a wonderful dinner of lasagna and an hour or so of just hanging out, Cerb managed to snag one of Clay's cotton t-shirts.
Brock didn't need to view the whole article to recognize the shirt belonged to Spenser … the printed 6B9 on the sleeve was proof enough. Not wanting to disturb Cerb's restful slumber, Brock turned and exited his room. At least one of us is sleeping well again.
Beach
Under a huge umbrella Lisa procured just for him, which blocked out UV rays, Clay sat and dug his bare toes into the warm sand as he gazed out at the ocean. A smile firmly in place, his eyes moved along the shoreline taking in the sights of his family as they all enjoyed a day at the beach before Katie hopped on a plane and headed home tomorrow.
Jason with Mikey, Emma, and Katie were on surfboards just beyond where waves broke. Two nights ago, when he and Katie ate dinner at Jason's home, Katie promised to help teach Mikey to surf. Closer to shore Ray, Trent, and Dawn boogie boarded with Jameelah. The little girl having the time of her life.
Sonny and Lisa were busy building a sandcastle and Ray's son who was now walking well, kept acting as Godzilla and stomping on their efforts while Naima stood by taking pictures and laughing. Brock continued to throw Cerb's ball into the water, and the pup joyfully bounded in and swam to retrieve it time after time.
The only two missing were Blackburn and Ellis. They planned to come, but something came up, and they had to back out of attending this afternoon, but hopefully would make it for drinks later at the local bar. Even with them missing, today was perfection for Clay.
Although he couldn't join in the activities, having to keep out of the sun due to his grafts, he reveled in being here with family. Today might be nostalgic for some of the guys, but for Clay, with a mom unable to cope being a single mother followed by her death, a negligent father absent from his life, and grandparents more focused on missionary work than planning a fun outing with him, a day like this was nonexistent in his childhood.
Clay relaxed, leaning back in the low beach chair, closing his eyes, and inhaling the fresh salty scent as he recalled the last week with Katie. Idyllic … mostly. Her nurturing helped speed his recovery in many ways.
He slept like a rock with her lying beside him. Clay still didn't quite understand why but reasoned that perhaps talking about his nightmares released his demons and allowed him uninterrupted slumber. Or possibly it was the massages she gave him that led to other stimulating activities which provided him an intense release and left him wiped out … at least until the next opportunity, which usually started with kissing or a steamy shower.
She also helped him realize any woman shallow enough to find his grafts ugly or repulsive was not the lady for him. He needed someone who would strive to understand the man inside the skin and accept him for who he was and what mattered to him … period. Anything less, well, he had been down that road with Stella and had his heart ripped out.
Clay let out a sigh. Part of him wished Katie and he could be a couple but realized both needed their chosen paths, and they were better as friends … with benefits.
"Hey, Clay, you doin' alright?" Brock dropped onto a towel next to Clay's chair, gripping Cerb's ball in his hand.
Opening his eyes and turning his head, Clay grinned. "Yep. Cerb wear your arm out?" He passed Brock a can of soda.
Brock chuckled as Cerb lopped towards them, his tongue hanging out and his fur dripping wet. "Yeah … he can keep it up for hours."
Cerb targeted his boy … ready for a little payback… just a tad. Bounding up to Clay, he came to an abrupt halt and shook like the dickens from head to tail, spraying his boy with water. Cerb's eyes held merriment as Clay reacted.
After Clay unfurled, wiping water from his sunglasses and chuckling at Cerb's antics, he said, "It's almost as if he planned that. I swear he is smiling at me."
"Woof, bark, yap." Haha got you back for pulling out my hair.
Clay tilted his head and spied the spot where the guys said Cerb rubbed his hair off. It never sounded quite right to him and a vague memory filtered in. "Ah, damn … I pulled Cerb's hair out, didn't I?"
Brock couldn't stop snickering. "Definitely I think Cerb planned that … payback of sorts. You're even now."
"Woof!" Yep … you're getting better at understanding Dog. "Bark, yip, ruff!" Come play ball more, or you're next, Brock. Cerb nudged Brock's hand which held his favorite tennis ball.
Standing, Brock said, "I better go play with him more, or I'm in for the same fate.
Before Cerb trotted after Brock, Clay said, "Thanks for finding me, boy. Sorry about the hair. Love ya, brother."
"Woof, bark, ruff!" No worries. Love you too, brother. Cerb took off like a missile … a hair missile … as the ball arched high in the sky with a trajectory of going into the water.
The Bulkhead Bar
Laughter filled the table as Bravo plus Lisa and Katie joked and drank beer. Jason stood. "Next round is on me."
"Don't forget, the kid is switching to near beer. One real beer is his limit," Trent stated, not wanting Clay to drink much yet.
"Perhaps a virgin daiquiri," Sonny teased recalling the first time they met Katie in the hangar in Australia when Clay and she would pretend to be newlyweds.
Katie leaned on Clay and shut the razzing down. "Nothing virgin about my ex-husband. He's more man than any of you ever will be … and he's still young and virile."
Clay pinked up but laughed. Katie was unpredictable, but a hoot and she fit right in with the group. He stood, needing to use the restroom and quipped, "On my way back I'll be sure to get Sonny a Shirley Temple."
Non-phased Sonny shot back, "Make sure they put the cherry on top. I'll give it to Lisa, and she can pop my cherry." He grinned at Lisa and received a punch in the arm. "Damn, the flies are bad in here, Davis."
Lisa glowered at Sonny, but couldn't help the lift of the corners of her mouth. The man had no censors sometimes. She was only glad Eric and Mandy had not been able to make tonight too. She didn't worry about the men of Bravo if they found out, but Blackburn was another story … and Mandy, well, she wouldn't understand getting so close to the boys … or in this case, one of the guys.
In a dim corner, a man watched the group. He had a bone to pick with them, and tonight it would be payback time. They turned his life upside down for months, but he utilized his vast resources and neutralized the damage, well, most of it, he would not be prosecuted, though he remained persona non grata. And they had the nerve to turn his namby-pamby son against him too … something he never expected … but he would nail each of them for the offense.
Clay exited the restroom, as fun as today had been his stamina still was not back to full strength, and he could use a nap … actually nodded off on the drive here. Damned good thing Katie drove. It was one reason Trent set his limit to one alcoholic beverage.
When Trent asked him how he was doing after the day in the sun, he spoke the truth. He never lied to their medic about his physical condition … now. Trent kept him alive and being honest with him was in his best interest. And hell, he liked having older brothers who watched out for him, even though most of the time he had no problem handling things on his own.
Clay's mind shifted as he caught Katie's laugh. He would miss Nurse Katie but was happy she came to visit. At some point, he would need to return the gesture and go down under again to visit her. The thought of meeting her biological family, who unlike his parents, nurtured her, intrigued him.
Lost in his thoughts, on the way to the bar to order Sonny's Shirley Temple, Clay accidentally bumped into a man as he passed between pool tables. "Sorry."
"Watch where you're going numb-nuts!" Nelson shoved his target hard making him take two steps back and into Barry. He was all too happy to teach a pretentious Navy SEAL a lesson. They believed they were badass, but he would snap most of them in two with little effort.
Clay raised his hands to his waist, palms out. "Not looking for a fight. I apologized." He took a step to the left to go around the beefy man … who appeared to be five inches taller and muscle-bound like a bodybuilder. In his current less-than-prime condition, he would need to protect his back, and though the grafts were healing well, he didn't want to risk a setback.
He nimbly ducked, narrowly avoiding the strike thrown at his head. The punch hit the guy next to him. Clay moved, wanting to vacate the area before it turned into a brawl as the man balled up his fists and brought up his arms, ready to retaliate.
Barry played his part, taking a swing at his friend Nelson, knowing their seven buddies would ensure this turned into a regular mix-up, with their first target to be Clay Spenser and the secondary ones all of his teammates. The nameless man, who paid them extremely well, wanted them all bloodied in a good old fashioned beatdown.
Clay's arms were seized from behind on both sides. "What the fuck?" A fist rammed into his nose, causing nociceptive pain to radiate across his entire face as blood dribbled out and he was pulled backward until his back slammed into a natty light fixture, shattering the glass. Clay jerked out of their clutches as a glass shard sliced his back, which pissed him off.
In the next instant, Katie and Lisa stood in front of him in a protective gesture as the rest of Bravo, plus Derek, John, and Nick of Alpha, Dominic from Delta, Beau Fuller of Charlie, and even Big Chief engaged in a knock-down-drag-out bar brawl against nine non-regulars.
Though it seemed longer, the fight concluded within two minutes as everyone who came to cover his six except Katie, Lisa, and Trent grabbed the necks of one of the attackers and twisted their arms high behind their backs to frog-march the unwelcome non-Navy Neanderthals out of the Bulkhead bar. Whoever they were, they didn't belong, and the owner, an ex-SEAL himself, would side with the SEALs if the police showed up.
As things quieted, Katie handed Clay several napkins to stem the flow from his nose as Trent asked, "Your back alright?"
"No. But I don't want you to check it here … follow me home, please." Clay's nasally voice said as he squeezed his nose and tipped his head back.
"Who were those nitwits?" Katie asked.
Lisa shrugged. "Never seen them around here before. Doubt we ever will again … they learned not to mess with SEALs. We watch each other's backs." She grinned at Clay. "You see Fuller land that solid blow on the guy who rammed you into the wall?"
"Nope … my beautiful guardians blocked my view." Clay lowered his head as the team reentered the bar and headed straight for him. He noted the worried and furious expressions.
Jason turned his gaze to Trent. "He okay?"
"Not checking him here … time for the kid to head home. I'll go with him."
Sonny sighed. "Can't take you anywhere, Goldilocks. Jace, you should've let me neuter those nutbags."
"Tempting, but assault would be a career limiting option." Jason surveyed the damage to Clay. "I'm coming to your place too."
Clay started to protest but realized Jason would nullify any objection, so only nodded and caught the expressions on the others. "Guess the party is moving to my place."
"Yee-haw. Me, Lisa, and Brock will swing by the liquor store," Sonny offered.
Realizing the kid wouldn't want an audience while Trent examined him, Ray suggested, "Jace, you and I will take care of the tab here and stop to grab some snacks on the way over."
Jason nodded.
Clay turned to Katie. "Gonna go wash up. Back in a moment."
"I gotta run home for my kit. I should keep it in the car from now on. Never know when I'll need it. I'll meet you at your apartment in about ten minutes." Trent turned and jogged out of the bar.
Brock, Sonny, and Lisa left next, while Jason and Ray went to pay the tab and find out if they owed for any damages. They would follow Clay out and make sure Katie was the one driving.
As Clay went to the restroom, Ash Spenser slipped out the door. This didn't go the way he planned. He paid good money for those muscle-bound idiots to hammer home the fact to his son that he would never outshine him … but they failed. He would need to take things into his own hands and prove once and for all to his son he would never be as good as him … never.
Outside the Bulkhead Bar
Clay's pace was slow as he and Katie ambled across the full lot to his car which they had to park in the farthest corner. The nap he wanted earlier, he needed now for sure and wondered if he would be nodding off on the way home or if he was becoming narcoleptic.
Although his back ached, Clay believed no substantial damage had been done … thanks to his brothers intervening. As he washed his hands before leaving the restroom, he peered at his nose and didn't think it was broken. And luckily the bleeding stopped, but it would probably swell a bit and might leave him with raccoon eyes in the next day or so … he hoped not.
Almost to his Mustang, Clay was halted by a voice he wished never to encounter again … his narcissistic father.
"Clay!" Ash shouted as he balled up his fist behind his son.
Turning to face Ashhole, a punch blindsided Clay causing him to stumble into Katie. His nose began bleeding again as he regained his footing and gaped nonplused at his nightmarish old man.
"Time to teach you who is the better man!" Ash swung again …
.
... To be continued in AI-O
AN: Evil muse is at it again ... leaving this on a cliffy. I have the general plot outline for AI-O and AI-P which will follow Clay through this encounter with his father, through rehab, and his first parachute jump (including finding out if something nefarious was afoot with his previous chute). AI-O will start with what happens in the Bulkhead bar parking lot.
Hope you enjoyed this extra-long, mostly emotional whump installment. I figured each of the guys would be affected in some way after the events in Nepal and their follow-on mission ... and each, Clay especially, deserved some good old fashioned nurturing. Drop me a review and let me know what you thought ... I enjoy reading them.