Author's Note: Welp, this is the end of it. I admit I had to rewrite this chapter several times before I was satisfied with it, so I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Also, happy late Mother's Day to all the moms out there, including the moms-to-be, the moms who don't yet have children of their own, those who mother others' children, and the moms with children in heaven. You are loved; you are appreciated. I see your efforts and your hardships, and I'm grateful for you and your strength every day. I know Mother's Day isn't always a happy day for women, but no matter who you are and how you mother or are a mother, you are valued. I see you, and so many others see you. Thanks for being you.

Chapter Six

"Top, you should get some sleep."

Adam felt a hand on his shoulder as he snapped out of his weary reverie. He looked up at McG, slowly coming back to his senses. "What?"

"Bed. You should be in it," McG simplified tersely. Worriedly.

"I second that," Jaz interjected, in the middle of taking apart her pistol for routine maintenance.

Amir raised his hand a little. "Count me in too."

"And me," Preach added.

McG let out a satisfied sigh as Adam continued to fight through his confusion. "Well, Top. Looks like we're all in agreement. So get to bed. Now."

"No, I'm fine here."

"And you'll be better resting in bed," McG pressed. "Let's go, buddy." He started to help Adam up from the table when Preach quickly stepped in to take over.

"I'll help him, McG."

The medic stepped aside without complaint, offering Preach a grateful smile. Once Preach got Adam on his feet and firmly supported by crutches, the two of them slowly made their way down the hallway toward Adam's room.

"I'm really fine, Preach," the team leader muttered, just out of earshot of his other subordinates.

The older man leveled a look at the blond, a small smile on his lips. "I'm sure you are."

Without another word, Adam carefully made his way through the door of his room, maneuvering the crutches with a practiced ease—though hampered by his injuries.

Once they were in, Preach closed the door behind him.

Adam looked at him questioningly.

For a minute, they just stared at each other, Adam's gaze confused, Preach's wise and firm.

Preach took a deep breath, relaxing his posture as he regarded his injured team leader.

"Top, they're okay. We're all okay."

His voice was low. Quiet. Reverent.

Adam didn't say a word.

"You don't have to push yourself. Take time. Rest. Recover. We're okay. We're just worried about you."

The blond dropped his eyes to the floor, clenching his jaw. "But not really, right?"

Preach's brows dipped in puzzlement.

"Jaz can't look at me without that fear in her eyes. The same look she had after she was captured. And McG feels guilty. I just know it. I've seen it. Amir's angry. And you have that look like you're trying to make peace with all this. Trying to force being okay with everything."

Preach's lips parted in surprise. He knew Adam had an eye for things like this. It was part of what made him a great team leader; he knew when to be there and how to be there for all of them.

But Preach hadn't thought he'd see all that. Not now. Not when he was still at half capacity.

"So you're not okay. None of you are," Adam muttered, growing paler. Exhausted, he slowly lowered himself to his bunk, setting his crutches aside. "I'm the one who did this, so I'm the one that needs to fix it."

"Adam," Preach sighed, moving closer to the blond. He watched the team leader for a moment before taking a seat next to him on the bunk. "This isn't your fault. You don't have to fix anything." Preach paused, eyes lingering on the dark circles under Adam's eyes. "I get that you want to help. But you have to know better than anybody that you can't do that right now. We're . . . afraid, guilty, angry . . . unsettled because this happened to you. Because you aren't okay."

Adam looked at him, absolutely drained.

Preach let out another huff. "Before we can heal, you have to heal. So for us, take care of yourself. Get some rest. Take it easy. Let us help. And when you're feeling more like yourself—when we finally know you're not going to get in your own way—then maybe you can help us with our wounds." The older man gently dropped a hand on the younger man's shoulder. "But I have a feeling that there won't be much to fix by then."

Adam's shoulders drooped a little in defeat, and his gaze tiredly found the floor.

"I know you're not one for waiting," Preach continued. "But this time, you'll just have to let time do its work. We'll still be here."

The blond breathed in deeply through his nose. "Dammit, Preach. Why do you always have to be right?"

Preach smirked, giving Adam another pat on the shoulder. "Get some sleep, Top."

With that, he stood, making his way to the door. And as he pushed the door open, he smiled.

He had a feeling things would turn out fine.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

Adam slept the rest of the day away and into the night. He didn't wake until after midnight, after everyone else had gone to bed.

He laid in his bunk, staring up at the moonlit ceiling. Silver reflected off tarnished metal, the soft wash of light chasing away the shadows.

He could go back to sleep. His limbs felt heavy and sore, and his injuries still throbbed timidly. But he was thirsty.

Mustering what little strength he could find, he slowly sat up, gritting his teeth against the surge of pain in his side. He paused, staring at his feet.

Preach was right. He wasn't in good shape.

Adam had a habit of pushing aside his own poor health. To avoid facing it. To tell a convincible lie.

To keep the people he cared about from worrying.

Because there was a time he didn't have the luxury of being open and free about things like this. So he'd gotten very good at hiding it.

It was odd to think that these same habits now did more harm than good. The idea was different. Unfamiliar.

But for his team, he could try to change.

At least for a little while.

Still, he could manage getting some water by himself. It was the dead of night, after all.

Flexing his jaw, he moved to plant his feet on the floor. It took longer than it should have. Every part of his body protested. But it was just a trip to the kitchen.

He could manage it.

Taking hold of his crutches, he pushed himself to his feet. Normally, he'd try to look a little more presentable, even in the middle of the night, but right then, he didn't care. He knew he looked terrible. He also knew there wasn't much he could do to make it better.

Tightening his hold on his crutches, he set out on his small trek, staying as quiet as possible. But every tap of his crutches seemed to echo down the hallway. He grimaced at the noise, attempting to minimize it as much as possible. No luck.

After a few agonizing minutes, he finally made it to the kitchen and headed toward the fridge.

Then someone slipped by him.

Jaz.

Why hadn't heard her coming?

"Thirsty, Top?" Jaz asked, looking at him as she opened the fridge. The glint of fear was still in her eyes, and it made his heart sink just a little.

He thought about what Preach had said. And smothered the urge to ask her how she was.

"Uh . . . yeah," he croaked, still surprised by her sudden appearance. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Nah, you didn't," she replied, grabbing a bottle of water as he gingerly lowered himself into a seat at the table. "What are you doing up anyway, Top?"

"I was actually just getting some water." She set the water in front of him, looking pleased with herself.

"So my timing was perfect, huh?"

He smiled. Weakly. Still thrown by the caretaker role reversal.

Jaz sat at the table. "Did you get some sleep?"

"Uh, yeah." He stretched his injured leg a little, then regretted it. "Fell asleep almost immediately."

"You've been sleeping that whole time?" she asked with a grin, a laugh in her voice. "Geez, Top."

His smile widened. "Yeah, guess I was more tired than I thought." He saw her glance at the unopened water bottle. And he could see the worry behind her expression.

In response, he grabbed the bottle, unscrewing the cap to take a long drink. She looked relieved. So maybe Preach knew a thing or two.

A door opened in the background, and Jaz perked up a little. Adam looked over his shoulder.

Amir was casually walking into the kitchen, fully awake and alert. "Well, look who's up." The shorter man smiled as he patted Adam's shoulder, then moseyed over to their food stores. "Hungry, Top? I was thinking of making soup."

Adam frowned.

"At," he looked at his watch, "almost two in the morning?"

"Can't help when the cravings strike," Jaz explained, acting as if it was perfectly normal. She looked to Amir. "I think I could use some soup."

Adam narrowed his eyes. This felt strangely like they were working together.

Amir held up a can of broth. "Soup it is."

Suspicious, Adam took another swig of his water. He didn't miss Jaz's watchful eyes.

Another door opened, and Adam didn't even bother to look to see who it was this time.

"Partying without me?"

McG. Of course.

"Amir's making soup. Want some?" Jaz asked nonchalantly.

McG grinned broadly, dropping into a chair. "Sounds good. I'm in."

Adam vaguely wondered if they'd planned this. He sipped at his water.

The last door opened, and Adam frowned. This did feel rather planned. Had they slept at all?

"Yo, Preach. Soup. Want some?" McG offered. Amir was already working over the stove, gathering ingredients and staring into the broth as he put a recipe together in his head.

Preach nodded, finding his own seat. "I could use a bite."

Adam's eyes caught Preach's, and Preach seemed to dare him to say something about all this.

The team leader couldn't pretend he didn't know what this was. It wasn't exactly an unfamiliar practice for the team. Whenever any of them were hurt or struggling, the rest would silently offer their support and care—without making it obvious that's what they were doing. For a group of proud control freaks, it worked.

But Adam had never thought he'd be on the receiving end.

And yet, being here, tossed into a completely abnormal pocket of almost flawless normalcy, he could see it from a totally new perspective.

It was . . . nice.

He took another gulp of water.

From this end, he could see how beneficial it was for the rest of them. To be able to help and care for him . . . he didn't realize how much they needed it. And he suddenly felt overwhelmingly selfish for refusing their help before.

So for once, he let himself be cared for. It felt alien and wrong in some ways, but he put up with it. He let Amir make him soup under the disguise of a late-night craving. He let the rest of the team pretend they were hungry for his benefit. He let them all pretend this was just another casual team moment that happened to be in the middle of the night.

And Adam didn't mind it.

After a while, he relaxed enough to even let out a chuckle.

And they all stayed, wasting the hours away with him. He had a feeling they'd move when he moved. And somehow, his water was always replenished without him asking.

For a minute, he allowed a moment of pride. He'd built a good team. They were everything they needed. They made this job better. Their light balanced out the darkness.

He couldn't have had better luck. These people were the best of the best.

They inspired him to be better.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-

"Where're you going, Top?"

Adam readjusted his crutches, looking back at Jaz. "Just thought I'd go for a walk. Feel like I haven't seen the sun enough lately."

"I'll go with you," she volunteered, shoving her hands in her pockets as she made her way to his side.

He smiled. "If you insist."

"Can't let your weak-ass get stranded somewhere when you tire out." She grinned at her own teasing, nudging him a little with her elbow.

"Glad you have my back," he laughed. She moved the plastic flaps aside for him as he hobbled outside, and she followed close behind.

He looked a lot better. The weary smudges under his eyes were fading, and he was starting to look more like himself. His frame was filling out again. He'd trimmed his beard. He was eating a little more every day.

But she couldn't shake the feeling that she could lose him at any second. That if she let down her guard for even a minute, he'd be gone.

Adam started his lap around the building, grimacing a little with the movement, but not enough to be concerning. And yet, it was hard for her to push it aside.

"How're you feeling?" she asked casually, easily keeping up with his slow pace.

"Better," he replied, glancing at her with those sharp eyes. It brought some comfort to see the real Top behind his gaze. The weariness had ebbed away, and he was pretty much back to his old self. "Hurts less every day."

Adam watched her for a moment. Overall, the team was less on edge than they used to be. But he still saw all their troubling feelings. And in due time, he knew he'd find a way to put them to rest, like he always did.

But looking at Jaz, maybe he could start with her now.

"You know I'm okay, right?"

Her eyes went to his, and he thought he could see a flash of vulnerability in them.

"I'm healing fine. You didn't lose me. I'm still here."

She stopped walking. So did he.

A handful of emotions flashed across her face. Frustration, fear, sorrow, guilt. And true to her character, she hastily tried to smother them.

In that moment, Adam knew he had to dig deeper. It'd be hard for her, but he couldn't leave this like it was. Seeing all that on her face, he wondered if maybe he had let it sit too long.

"Jaz, you didn't leave me behind. You did exactly what you were supposed to."

It felt like the world stopped.

Nothing else mattered outside the two of them. He saw the fury in her eyes before it even manifested on her face. But she didn't say anything. Not at first.

Not until she trusted herself not to explode.

So the seconds ticked on in silence. Adam waited. He watched. He prepared himself.

Then she finally spoke.

"Yeah, maybe I did what I was supposed to," she said heatedly, her voice low. Dangerous. "But that doesn't mean I didn't leave you behind, Top."

Her tone said so much.

She'd been bottling more than he realized. Building pressure over hours. Over days. And he'd just unscrewed the cap.

"We left you there," she hissed. "You didn't see you when we got there, Top. You didn't see it."

For a minute, neither said a word. For a minute, they just stared at each other, trying to read the other's expression.
"What didn't I see?" he asked quietly. Patiently. And he just listened, propped up by crutches in the blazing sun of the desert.

"You looked almost dead, Top. And honestly, if we'd taken any longer, you could've been." She pursed her lips, as if trying to hold it all back. "You were gray. And there was blood everywhere. We're a team. We're supposed to have each other's backs. And we didn't have yours."

Adam moved his crutches to face her directly, his eyes staring straight into hers. "You had my back. When I needed you guys, you came back. You got me out of there. Jaz, you gave me your blood."

Adam simply watched her, seeing the crack in her carefully constructed wall. Like all of them, she held herself at a higher standard.

And in her eyes, she'd not only failed. She failed spectacularly.

He moved closer to her, to look further into her gaze. "You didn't fail me. As soon as you heard, you were on a plane. That's what it means to have my back. You put everything aside to help me when I couldn't help myself. You did that. Jaz, you did that."

Her eyes didn't leave his. The knot loosened in her chest. It didn't go away.

But it felt better.

"And Jaz, I am still here. You did not lose me." He emphasized each word, peering straight into her gaze. "I'll tell you every day if I have to. Try and focus on what is, not what almost was."

He knew his words would only do so much. A pain and fear like that ran deep.

And really, it never went away.

But he'd be damned if he did nothing at all.

"Focus on today. Today, I'm here. Today, we're taking a walk. Safely. On base. We're healthy. We're okay."

After some hesitation, she nodded, and he stiffly pulled away from her, wincing as he maneuvered his crutches. It sparked a pang of worry in her chest, but it was different. Instead of seeing how he could've died, she saw how hard he'd fought to stay alive.

For them.

She'd seen it in the fiery blue depths of his eyes. She'd forgotten, and it felt like a breath of fresh air to be reminded just much he wanted to be there with his team.

It brought a strange comfort to know that he'd always fight to be there with them.

That he wouldn't leave without a fight.

"Now, if you can keep up, I say we continue with this walk," he said forcefully, readjusting his crutches as he looked ahead.

Surprised by his challenge, she let out an unexpected chuckle, raising her eyebrows. "Keep up? With you, old man? I think I can manage."

For the first time in days, she felt . . . lighter. She felt safe. Like she was allowed to be happy.

Seeing her expression soften, Adam smiled. He was on the mend. His team was taking care of him, and it was finally time to return the favor.

Then maybe they could heal together.

Fin.