842 words of Jason dealing with Clay's inability to sleep in his own damn bed!

Prompt: After everything that Clay went through the past year it is no surprise for the team when Jason find Clay on the floor gasping for air on Jason's spare room on the middle of the night and has to help him to calm down and help him to sleep. (Review from Julia Braddock on Chapter 10.)

Written for my 2019 Summer Prompt Challenge on Ao3.

Panic

Jason probably shouldn't have agreed to stay with Clay. He was trying to give Ray some space, time with Naima, etcetera etcetera. Staying on Clay's couch while he looked for a place for him and Mikey was convenient - and not just because Clay's place was in Mikey's school district and he liked walking to the showings.

These many random and related arguments explained how he was in this situation. None of them truly explained why though. Why he was listening to the kid toss and turn in his own bed. Why he'd watched Clay down half a six pack before heading to the aforementioned bed.

Nope. Jason should not be staying here. It kinda sounded like *Clay* shouldn't be staying here.

Driving home his thoughts, Clay screamed. Jason was up faster than a cat and paused approximately zero seconds before busting into the bedroom.

Clay was, unsurprisingly, tangled in his sheets. Sweat on his brow. The kid was still asleep, hands fisted in a blanket now bunched at his head. His bound was curled protectively around himself.

"Clay~" Jason called out to him, unwilling to touch what was basically a loaded spring. Clay didn't twitch. "Spenser!" The added volume had no effect. Jason rolled his eyes, "Bravo 6!"

Ah! The eyes flickered open. Clay swallowed, his eyes bounced around the walls but he continued to breath heavily. Jason planted himself directly in the kid's line of sight.

"You good kid?" Jason kept eye contact as Clay nodded. The kid was, thankfully, a horrible liar.

Clay was still breathing heavily - four counts in through his nose, four counts out through his mouth. Not exactly textbook calming practice, but when had the kid ever actually followed procedure?

Jason took a breath, counted out the eight seconds in his head, "You want to talk?"

Clay shook his head, but his breathing fell into line with Jason's. Jason kept it up, took a seat at bottom of the bed, continued eye contact.

"I got a showing for a three bedroom near base tomorrow," Jason said, exhaling slowly. "You mind giving me a ride?"

Clay was officially breathing normally again. He was blinking rapidly to try to stay awake. "Hmm, sure." Clay blinked a few more times.

"Great." Jason got up, ruffled the kid's hair. His shoulders relaxed a bit. He was asleep again, Jason had low expectations for his own restfullness.

Jason slowly lifted and pulled one limb after the other until Clay was lying sprawled out on his stomach. He was unfamiliar with the practice of unfurling a sleeping subordinate, usually it was Sonny though.

"Just…great," Jason sighed as he leaned against the wall. He watched Clay sleep for another ten minutes, till he was certain the kid was down. He had a sneaking suspicion he'd be back. The kid slept like a damn rock on missions.

An hour later, Jason was pulled from his sleep by yet another scream. He was even faster to the room this time, but Clay wasn't asleep this time.

"Clay?" Jason spoke quietly as he approached the bed. Clay was curled up, head in his knees, breathing frantic. There was sobbing. Sonny had never sobbed. Jason was not prepared for this - hell, he hadn't even handled his kids sobbing all that well.

This was probably karmic retribution for calling a 26-yo 'kid.'

Jason took a seat on the bed beside Clay, "I got ya, kid." It was too fitting of nickname. Karmic retribution be damned. He ran his hand over Clay's head.

The kid's breathing stuttered and next thing Jason knew he had arms full of Clay Spenser. Jason did the breathing thing again - eight counts as the book Ray'd thrown at his head dictated.

It took longer (eye contact, the book had emphasized eye contact), but Clay settled. He didn't lift his head or pull away, but. Burrow deeper into Jason's now damp shoulder. Ten minutes more and Jason was certain Clay was asleep again. With care he usually reserved for grenades and landmines, Jason settled Clay back into his pillow.

"You're going to give me more grey hairs than Mikey at this rate." Jason blew out a breath, leaning back against the wall. He didn't move from the bed. He settled a hand in Clay's hair and resigned himself to his position.

Clay slept the rest of the night through and Jason slipped back into the living room before the kid was fully conscious. They didn't speak of it, though Jason's dark circles were evident enough.

"Go get dressed." Jason threw a piece of bacon at Clay as the blond walked into the kitchen. "I have a showing at 9 and you're coming with me." There were grumbles, but Clay ate the bacon (and stole three more) and followed orders.

If only his actual kids were that compliant in the morning. Maybe Mikey would pick up on that if he stuck them in the same room long enough.

Jason froze, considered all the other habits Mickey might pick up. "Nah, definitely need three bedrooms."

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