Author's Note: And this chapter ends this fic! Thanks for taking the time to read. Hope you enjoyed.
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Jaz stood at the door, listening to the quiet conversation outside. She couldn't believe it. She just couldn't.
McG and Amir laughed in the kitchen, joking as they made homemade burger patties. They were blissfully unaware of the darkness that went on in their leader's mind. The guilt. The horrors. And she would be too if she hadn't stopped to listen just before walking outside. Now, she couldn't find it in her to push through the door at all.
She thought back to her abduction. She'd never stopped to think about what it had done to him. It was a frightening situation for anyone. But the others depended on him. She depended on him, even if she hadn't expected him to rescue her. He had to carry the weight of the decision-making. And he had to be strong. For the rest of them.
If anything had happened to her, he'd have to carry that blame all by himself.
It felt like a punch in the gut. To think they depended on him to the point where they expected him to be solid all the time. Yet, he must've hurt so much more in so many different ways.
A sufferer in silence.
Feeling almost overwhelmed, she dropped her hand from the doorknob and looked toward the kitchen. McG let out a loud "ha!" as Amir insulted his patty-making skills. She didn't want to ruin the mood.
But she had to tell somebody. And they should know.
Jaz quietly made her way back to the kitchen, her eyes on the floor with her brow furrowed. It didn't take long for the other two to notice.
"What's up, Jaz?" Amir asked, pulling away from the bowl of seasoned ground beef. "You okay?"
She didn't answer. How could she answer? Was she okay? She didn't know. But it wasn't about her, was it? Or maybe, in a way, it was.
Jaz opened her mouth to speak, but quickly shut it.
The room was abuzz with an anxious electricity. McG fidgeted. "What's wrong?"
"I . . ." She swallowed, shaking her head before looking up at her teammates. "I heard some things. 'Bout Top."
Amir frowned. "When?"
"Just now," Jaz huffed, gesturing toward the back door. The two men shifted a little, worried by her reaction.
"What things?" McG asked, glancing out the window. Preach and Adam were seated, and only Preach's face was visible. Judging by his expression, they weren't sharing laughs.
"Said he can't sleep. Says he . . . sees things."
McG didn't want to ask, but he had to. "Sees what?" The question came out flat. More like a soft demand than a question.
"Preach not coming out of that coma. Me . . . not being rescued. Him . . . killing Hoffman." She paused as they all internalized the information. "I guess I never realized how much he has to deal with as the team leader." Seconds ticked by in silence, the three of them lost in thought. "He mentioned being blamed. Like it was something he feared. And I guess . . . I guess I never thought about how every decision weighs on him."
"I can't say it didn't cross my mind," Amir sighed. "I mean, when you were taken, Jaz . . . should've seen him."
She looked up at him, brows stitched together in worried confusion. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, he was as focused and determined as always," McG explained, folding his arms over his chest. "But he wouldn't sleep. Wouldn't eat. Just threw himself into finding you. Not sure what he would've done if we didn't get you back."
Amir pursed his lips together. "I'm glad we never found out."
McG shrugged a little, giving her a small, sad smile. "I think Preach sees most of it. I mean, he knows Top pretty well."
"But why wouldn't he tell us?" she pressed, frustrated by all of it. Why did he have to keep it to himself? "Said he didn't want to bother anyone. But why? Why would he feel that way?"
Amir turned back to the bowl, pulling a handful of seasoned beef to shape it into a patty. "Well, I mean, he is in a leadership position. Traditionally, he's supposed to be the pillar of the team. Most of the time, that means being the strength and support others can rely on."
McG nodded. "I think he's so focused on being what we need that he doesn't really think about what he needs."
"Not fair," Jaz muttered. "It's not fair."
The other two didn't reply, simply returning to their task for a moment.
McG let out a sigh as he molded the beef in his hands. "For now, I think the best thing to do is to let him be. Let him have a chance at normalcy for a second. I think he'd be upset if he found out we all knew."
Jaz didn't like it, but he had a point. Adam had a pride that was hard to explain. And he was more protective of his team than anything else. She questioned why he'd keep his feelings to himself, but truly, she knew why. To him, it was important that his team trusted him. That they had someone to turn to for support when they needed. To him, his team needed him to back all their plays. To understand. To make the hard decisions.
She understood. She did. But it still hurt to think of him in the little house, trying to stuff his own messy feelings and nightmares back into the bottle. Alone.
Jaz looked around at the immaculate kitchen. It held such a different meaning now. A reminder of how much darkness Adam had to push down into the recesses of his mind.
"Yeah, okay. For now, we'll forget anything happened," she mumbled, swiping a hand over her brow bone.
"That's the spirit," McG replied, a watered down humor in his voice.
And they put on a damn good show.
Adam and Preach came back in soon after the three's joint decision, all smiles and jokes. Jaz played along like she was on an undercover gig, laughing easily. But her heart broke just a little to watch Adam pretend. Like he wasn't clawing out of his own fears these days. As if he wasn't plagued by nightmares in the dark.
And all five of them were so convincing that their DC team couldn't spot the lie. They sipped beer and swallowed bites of burger past lost appetites. They swapped stories. They laughed.
And Adam was perhaps the best actor of them all.
If Jaz wasn't so sure of what she'd heard, she'd almost forget he'd said anything at all. She didn't doubt that being with his team gave him comfort and maybe even a little happiness. But her stomach churned knowing just how much he put them before himself.
Other than Preach, he was possibly the strongest of them all. She knew that even if he was stumbling, he'd always find the strength to support his team. So to her, she'd always have faith in him. Even if he crumbled, even if he admitted he needed help, she know she could rely on him. She always would.
But he didn't seem to know that.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Jaz couldn't sleep.
Her mind ran in circles, always going back to Adam. She'd seen the way Preach had hugged Adam goodbye just a little too long. The way the older man seemed reluctant to leave his friend behind. And she knew why. She felt the same.
Maybe she should go over there.
But it was late.
She picked her phone up from her bedside table and squinted against the bright light of the screen. Just after three in the morning. So maybe not as late as it was early.
Jaz laid her head back on her pillow, staring at the ceiling. He was probably fine. Top was strong.
And yet, this had nothing to do with strength.
With a start, she rolled out of bed, grabbing a clean sweatshirt off a lounge chair. She was going. Consequences be damned.
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Now that she was close, she wasn't so sure of her decision. He could've been sleeping. But now that she was so close, it seemed pointless to turn back now.
Jaz turned onto his street, driving slowly as she approached his house.
His lights were on. He was awake.
Her breath caught in her throat. She had to do this, no matter what McG and Amir said.
Maneuvering her car smoothly to park next to the curb, she hastily put it in park and turned off the ignition. For a moment, she just looked at the lit window of the house, wondering how this would turn out. Maybe it would go poorly. But honestly, it was worth the risk.
Determined, she got out of her car and practically speed-walked to his door. She didn't know what would greet her on the other side. No matter what it was, she was ready for it.
She raised her fist, taking a deep breath.
Then she knocked. Softly. Carefully.
For a few seconds, there was silence. She wondered if she made a mistake. Then there were footsteps, approaching the door with a slow confusion. The steps stopped right in front of the door, pausing. A cricket chirped, the soft sound echoing in the evening. She was here now, and she wasn't leaving.
The door opened, and she was almost surprised by the man on the other side.
For once, he looked ragged. He wasn't acting this time. Red rimmed his eyes, and his short hair was disheveled. His shoulders slouched with the weight of a thousand bricks.
He just looked . . . tired.
"Everything okay, Jaz?"
She blinked. Of course, his first thought was her well-being. Not his.
"I'm fine, Top." She looked him over a second time, her eyes lingering on the almost bruise-like smudges under his eyes. "Are you?"
"I'm fine," he answered quickly, still trying to figure out what she was doing there. She could see him looking for signs of distress. She'd seen that face a lot after her abduction.
"Are you really? 'Cause you sure don't look it."
He stopped in his tracks, his brow furrowing. "It's nothing to worry about. I'm more worried about you." He looked at his watch. "It's almost four in the morning."
Jaz sighed, hands in her pockets. "Top, I'm here . . . I'm here for you."
His lips parted in surprise, and he stared at her questioningly.
"I . . . I heard you talking to Preach today."
Adam shut his mouth, faint lines of terror sinking into his guise.
"I was awake and I just thought . . . I wanted to check up on you. To make sure you were okay."
"I'm fine," he repeated hastily, shifting uncomfortably.
Jaz shuffled her feet. "It's okay if you're not."
At that, he looked both confused and wary. Out of his element.
She went on. "Just because you're our team leader doesn't mean you aren't allowed to struggle. We'd never think less of you for that." Jaz locked eyes with him, bravely staring into the blue. "And I don't think any of us would want you to deal with things alone. If we don't have to, you shouldn't have to either."
He looked down at her boots and swallowed, still at a loss of what to say. Adam didn't know how to navigate this. But he couldn't leave her out there. "Well, why don't you . . . why don't you come in." His voice was hollow; it hadn't escaped her notice. Immediately, she realized he wouldn't look her in the eye, his weary posture shadowed by shame.
Hesitantly, she made her way inside, watching him. This was different than she was used to, but she'd rather have this than the fake smile.
"Need anything to drink?" he asked, still avoiding her eyes.
"No, thanks. I just want to talk. I want to make sure you're okay."
He shook his head. "I'm okay."
"Bullshit."
His gaze snapped up to meet hers.
"Don't lie to me, Top." She paused. "Please, don't lie to me."
His stare fell away from her as he brought a hand to his forehead. "Why don't we . . . sit down."
She moved to a seat, still keeping an eye on him. He looked so tired. Even after a forty-eight-hour op with no sleep, he'd never looked this exhausted. It was quiet in here. And the walls seemed to echo with something sad and fearful.
He took a seat across from her, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees.
With a newfound sympathy, Jaz mustered up her courage. "Tell me what you dream about."
Adam shook his head, leaning back into his seat. "No, Jaz. You don't need to know."
"I told you: I heard you talking to Preach. I already know. So tell me. Talk to me about it."
Her eyes dropped to his hands. They were clenched so tightly, the knuckles were white.
"Of all the people, Jaz . . ." He stopped, staring at the coffee table. She could see the redness in his eyes, the subtle shine of tears. "Of all the people, you shouldn't be the one here. After everything, you're the last one that should be here at four in the damn morning."
"And maybe, out of everyone, I'm the one that understands you don't have to carry everything alone." Hell, she just wished it was easier to make him understand. "Know why I couldn't sleep?"
He looked at her. Not answering.
"I was worried about you. About you sitting here alone in this stupid, empty house, trying to deal with things that you help us deal with on a regular basis. You give us these stupidly effective pep talks. You take our calls in the middle of the night without complaining. You're just . . . just there! Damn it, Top. You're always there. But don't push us away when you need it. Give us a chance to take those midnight calls. Like Preach said, give us a chance to be there for you."
Hot tears collected in her eyes, blurring her vision and threatening to spill over. She wasn't a crier. Never had been. But this seemed like a tear-worthy moment.
"Just turn to somebody," she pressed. "If not me, then Preach or-or whoever the hell you want. Just talk to somebody."
He was quiet for a moment, pressing a fist against a loosely open palm. Moments slid by as he fidgeted. She waited.
"Jaz, I . . . I don't really know how to tell you."
She took a deep breath. "You just say it, Top. For once, don't be worried about upsetting us. Just say it. We'll take it in stride. We just want to help, and we can't do that if you keep pretending everything's fine." Jaz leaned forward, locking eyes with his. "Tell me what you dream about. You said you dream about not getting me back. Tell me about it."
Jaz could see his hesitation. His stubborn strength in the midst of weariness. It was something she'd always respect about him, even in a moment like this.
Adam breathed through his nose, a sign of surrender. Jaz's stomach churned, unsure of what to expect.
And he began.
"We don't get you back." A heavy pause. Adam struggled to work through the words for a moment, quiet as he collected his thoughts. "You're found dead a week later by someone. Not us. It's never us. Some stranger finds you wherever you've been dumped." He stops, fighting back . . . Rage? Sorrow? She couldn't tell. "All they'll tell us is you've been buried in an unmarked grave. No one could retrieve your body." He pauses again, biting the inside of his lip.
She knows exactly who "they" are. The higher-ups. The unseen workings behind closed doors. People who called the shots.
"We couldn't give you a proper burial. Because of politics, they tell us. Can't risk showing our hand." His brow furrowed. A simple gesture to hold back all the hate, pain, and anger. "And we're just expected to go on, knowing you're buried in foreign soil where no one knows your name. Where no one has the same respect for you as we do." Adam shakes his head. "And every time I wake up, I have to convince myself it didn't happen that way. That your rescue isn't the dream. I have to remind myself that you're still here."
He shuts his eyes tightly enough to leave his lashes wet with unshed tears. "I have to convince myself that we didn't leave you behind. That I didn't leave you behind."
He stops, staring at the rug for several long minutes. "If it's not that, then I dream that everyone is lost in the rescue mission. We're ambushed. Preach dies first, choking on his own blood. McG goes down second trying to help him. Then Amir. Then it's just me. And I can't save you. I can't save them. Everyone's gone, and it's my fault."
Jaz wanted to embrace him. Just hold him to remind him that he wasn't alone. But somehow, she knew that wouldn't be right for him. At least not now.
"But you did save me. I'm here, the team's here, and we're not going anywhere," she whispered. It all hit her at once. Adam could see all the possibilities with every choice he made, and it haunted him. Every detail.
When she'd thought about her own death while captive in that white, white room, she'd left it at that. At death. The team would grieve. They'd have to move on.
But Adam saw everything. Knew that whoever was in charge couldn't bring her home once she'd died. Knew she'd be left among strangers, even in death. Knew she couldn't be honored like he thought she deserved. The whole idea of it made her feel sick.
Briefly, she wondered what other horrible possibilities he had seen. What he still saw.
"My number one priority is getting the four of you home in one piece. With every mission, that's my ultimate goal. When I close my eyes . . . I just see every instance I easily could've failed. Or have failed."
Jaz thought about her best friend, her old teammate, and how he'd died on the job. Come to think of it, in the handful of weeks after that, Top was always up first. No matter how early she got out of bed, he'd be in the common area, doing paperwork or some such thing.
And it all suddenly made sense.
"And yet, you're the best CO any of us has ever had."
He looked at her, blue eyes bright.
"For every op, you take risks to protect us. You always put us first, and that has meant so much to us. To all of us. And no matter what happens, at the end of the day, we know how hard you fought for the team. And if not all of us make it, that's not on you. You have to make tough choices all the time. We get that. We'd never blame you. Preach's family would never blame you. Because we all know you'd put your life on the line for us." She smiled. "Actually, you do it all the time."
Adam smirked softly, a shadow of his usual bright demeanor.
"It's okay if you have nightmares. We all have them. We don't talk about it, but we all have them." She pursed her lips, looking to the ceiling. "Some nights, I see you dropping in that field on the border of China, and you just never get back up." Jaz stopped, staring down at her hands as she hooked her fingers together, twisting them. Adam didn't say a word. "When I wake up, I call you." She looked up, catching his eyes. "Just to make sure you really got up. That you're fine. And most of the time, that's all it takes."
His eyes didn't leave hers.
"If you have a nightmare, just call. It wouldn't bother us; we get it." She huffed. "And if there's one thing you should know, Top, it's that you've earned all our respect. We have your back. And we'll never think less of you for just being human. We won't think you're weaker or . . . or unfit for leadership. We won't stop looking to you for solutions or direction. Nothing will change."
She paused. "It's okay to be vulnerable sometimes. We all are."
There was something soft, something delicate in the blue of his eyes. "What if it's too much? Too often?" he whispered.
Her heart ached. Deeply. Painfully.
"Top, if you need to call us every single night, then do it. We'll take your call every hour if we have to. If it's the middle of the afternoon and you just want someone around, then say so. Just . . . just say so."
Adam wasn't sure how to take it. The very idea was so foreign to him. But looking at Jaz, he felt like he'd let her down if he didn't try. For her, he could try.
"Okay."
Jaz let the words sink in. Silence settled in the room like dust.
She smiled. "Okay."
-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-0-
Jaz startled awake, dazed as she tried to figure out what pulled her from a decent slumber.
What time was it?
Confused and bleary-eyed, she squinted in the darkness, turning to her bedside table.
Her phone rang.
That would explain it.
Scrambling to pick up the phone, she answered before even looking at the caller ID.
"Hello?" She cleared her throat, closing her eyes.
". . ."
Her eyes opened slowly, blinking in the darkness. "Top?"
It was him. She just knew it. Something about the silence on the other end.
"I'm sorry . . . I shouldn't have called so late."
"No, no. You should have." A pause. "You're not cleaning again, are you?"
He chuckled. "No. No, I'm not cleaning."
"Good, 'cause that's hella weird that you do that." She was trying to lighten the mood. Like he'd done for her—for all of them—so many times before. But it was harder than she thought it would be. At least, when it came to Top, it was difficult. "I mean, I avoid cleaning at all costs, even when—"
"Jaz?"
"Yeah?"
The faint sound of crickets sang from outside her window. Neither of them said a word as the seconds ticked by. Jaz waited anxiously, until he finally spoke.
"You're really here, aren't you? We got you out, right?"
She hesitated. Her chest hurt, thinking about the ghosts in his head. His voice sounded so small. Unsure. A little broken.
"Yeah, Top. I'm here. You got me out." Her throat burned with fresh emotion. "You got me out."
The quiet was back. Heavy. Emotional. Relieved. It spoke volumes, standing timidly in the stillness of the evening.
"Okay. I just wanted to make sure."
Jaz took a deep breath, staring down at her lap.
"Top?"
"Hm?"
"Thanks for calling."
She could almost hear the ghost of a smile as he said farewell.
So maybe she didn't have to worry about him so much after all.