AN: So I hope you guys are enjoying. This is the much-awaited chapter where Sonny will be waking up and hopefully (hehehe) starting to recover. I'm going to try to get this chapter up before I start my finals and my studying for finals which is next week, so fingers crossed. After that I'll be on break and will hopefully be able to update and wrap this up nicely! Enjoy and I love reading all your reviews so keep them coming if you feel so inclined!
If you were a passerby of Sonny's room, you would see Kairos sitting outside in a chair that was much too small for him. Mandy would be seated next to him typing away on a laptop, probably responding to emails and sending reports all across the globe. If you peered in through the crack in the door you would find Clay sitting at the left side of Sonny's bed, trying over and over to find a comfortable position in the plastic chair, only to eventually end up standing. Jason was eyeing him with discomfort, worried about the young man's injuries. Jason would be restless too. He'd flip through his phone that didn't have much information on it. No apps or anything he had on his civilian phone. Then he'd try to rest his eyes, think he heard movement and snap his eyes open. He never could bring himself to look at Ray though. Eric sat silently in the corner and would occasionally wander over to Trent's room to report that although they had now been sitting with Sonny for almost an hour there was no change. His fever was still at 102 and he was still out cold. Mostly, Eric went over to check on Brock. Eric had spied him rubbing at his temples still, closing his eyes in the bright lights, yet insisted he was totally fine when Eric pushed him on the matter. Trent was resting but on edge. Ray was mostly concerned with typing up his report from the day. They were passing around the computer to finish writing up their reports, each taking turns recalling each disastrous event after another. Each one trying to allow the memories as little as possible. It was Lisa though that would really catch your attention. Her face looked pained as she stared from one monitor to another. She didn't speak, she didn't look up. She simply kept her eyes trained on his heart rate, the rise and fall of his chest. Her eyes had seemed to not be dry since she had walked into the room. Just keep breathing. That was all she needed.
Lisa thought back to her first-time meeting Sonny. He was new to BRAVO and although Jason had picked him as one of the original guys on the team he was injured on an operation with his old team and had to take a few weeks rest. It irritated the hell out of him. There was no way he could operate with busted ribs though. By the time he had come back to the team Davis had a few weeks of experience with the team under her belt. Sonny was relaxed with the guys and with Blackburn but with her and with Mandy he was different. This shyness only lasted through the first operation though. Before long he was an open book. Always talking about his fine ass and his copious drinking.
As Lisa ran her fingers absent mindedly over the edge of Sonny's stiff hospital bedsheets, she remembered them returning from their first operation. She saw the guys coming back to the base and went out with Eric to greet them from the EXFIL chopper. They were all exhausted and Sonny was eager to get some rest after having irritated his injury. She had already prepared the C130 with their hammocks out and ready for them. She did it almost every time after their operations. The relief on their face as they boarded and saw they could simply just crash and relax without going to anymore effort of putting up their hammocks was enough to make her keep up the tradition. Each time when they were on their way back to the plane she would set each one up, making sure they were the way they liked, making sure they were with their other belongings. As the plane touched down back in the states and the guys all woke up, they grumbled by and grabbed their gear before heading into the debrief room. Eric had kept it short that day and at the conclusion of the meeting Ray declared, "Let's go get some drinks! We have to buy Lisa Davis welcome drinks!" She remembered smiling, looking down at the table as she gathered her paper work and went to change into civilian clothes.
She ended up drinking so damned much that she could hardly see straight. Every time she got further and further into her stupor the more the guys laughed. They were all three sheets to the wind as well, but she was obviously not making it home by herself. Slowly Eric and Ray left the bar, then Clay and the other team members. It was just her and Sonny. She wasn't sure how it ended up being that way. She recalled the guys discussing who would help her get home but she was surprised Sonny ended up with the short stick.
She remembered the way he smelled of lumber and whiskey as he offered her a hand to dance. She was already dancing with a guy, his hands on her waist, swaying to the music. She stumbled on her feet like a new born deer, unsteady but eager.
"Sorry dude, I should get her home." Sonny didn't look at him, keeping his eyes on Lisa as she stumbled around still dancing with only herself now.
"Nah, I can take her home man. I got it." The guy was slightly smaller than Sonny and obviously almost as drunk as Davis. Lisa hardly noticed the grip the mystery man dancing with her had on her wrist. Davis slowed her swaying to the music, trying slightly to pull from his grasp as Sonny grabbed the forearm of the sandy haired man she had been dancing with and pulled him in close, saying something into his ear and then releasing him. He nodded to Lisa and quickly let go of her, then left the bar in a hurry.
"What the hell Sonny!" Her irritation coming through her tone, "He was a nice guy! I was having such a great time!" Her voice didn't sound like hers as she whined and hiccupped.
He laughed at her lightly, "You'll thank me another time. Maybe we should hold off on the dancing and get you home, hot shot." Davis shook her head.
"I'mm finne." She slurred the words out, shaking her head as she spoke. The world swam around her and she nearly fell down if it hadn't been for Sonny's hands on her wrists. His grip was so much gentler. She didn't even put up a fight as he led her out of the bar. Wow, she really was drunk. She got in the cab with Quinn and accepted his flannel as she shivered in the cool night air.
As the cab pulled up to her apartment complex she slipped out of the car, "You alright? Can you get inside ok?" Sonny's southern drawl pulled her from her drunken, giggling mind.
"Totally." She smiled at him, "See you Southern Sonny Cowboy Quinn." She giggled at the nickname she made up as she shut the door.
"Hold on a sec." Sonny told the cab driver, waiting as he watched her stumble up the stairs before suddenly sitting down on the top step. Sonny laughed, "Alright, go on. I'm going to go get her inside." Sonny exited the cab, watching the brake lights disappear down the hill.
He walked slowly up to Davis, "Looks like you almost made it inside." She giggled, muttering something about taking a short break. They both laughed, Sonny bending down and practically picking her up. His flannel over her shoulders made her look small as he helped her into her apartment and into her bedroom. He deposited her on the bed, slid her shoes off, and pulled the blanket up and over her waist. Her eyes were already closed, her breathing soft. She was certainly passed out. Sonny pulled the small trash can over to her bed, just in case, and spotted a bottle of Tylenol on her dresser that he also placed next to her. She certainly was beautiful and wild. The way her dark hair was sprawled on her pillow, her lips parted slightly. She had an elegant strength to her. They would certainly be good friends he thought to himself as he stared at her face in the moonlight.
Davis stumbled out to her small apartment living room the next morning, surprised to see Sonny Quinn, sleeping soundly under one of her blankets. His feet stuck out the bottom and hung over the edge of the couch. He looked much younger now than he did when he was operating. His face lax as he snored quietly. As she moved into the kitchen to put a pot of coffee on the creaking floor boards sent Sonny shooting up from his spot on the couch.
"Sorry, uh, sorry didn't mean to startle you." He ran a hand through his hair. "No, no problem Davis." Davis stood there in her jeans and tank top from the night before, Sonny's flannel, that she was realizing was still wearing, was hanging off her frame as she stood in the kitchen. Sonny stared at her hair, it was slightly curled at the bottoms, tucked behind her ears. Her eyes looked tired but energized at the same time. She leaned uncomfortably against the kitchen counter as Sonny rose from his spot on the couch, stretching his limbs as he moved. He tossed the blanket over the back of the couch and then stood, unmoving, unsure of how to proceed in the middle of her living room.
"You, uh, you really didn't have to stay." Davis was beginning to remember the events of last night, "I'm really sorry." Her face reddened.
"How much do you remember?" Sonny chuckled as he moved to the kitchen, trying to ignore the discomfort in the room.
"Uh, I remember everyone buying me drinks to celebrate me joining the team. I remember dancing with everyone and playing pool. Then people started leaving and I was dancing with a guy, um, then, oh, thank you Sonny. I, I can't believe I was going to let him take me home. Oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. Honestly, I don't usually drink like that!" She rambled on and on, but Sonny simply moved to the coffee pot and poured two mugs.
Sonny put one of the mugs down next to her, "Davis, stop the rambling. You could go on longer than a southern woman talkin about Jesus on a Sunday." Davis went silent.
"It was no big deal, ya were having fun and then I helped ya home. Which was pretty damn funny by the way." Davis watched as he took a giant swallow of his coffee, loving the way it slightly burned on the way down. It was as if it was reviving him from the past week of long nights and longer days. He couldn't seem to wipe that smirk off his face.
"I just don't want you to think I'm some crazy party girl when I'm supposed to be running your intel and making sure you all have your gear perfect. I mean, it's usually me reporting how close a call it's gonna be from one op to the next. That was our first op with you on the team and me in the COMS room so I just, uh, I'm not usually like that." Lisa quickly pulled the coffee up to her face as she spilled out the confession. "It's important to me that you know that. That, I'm not, I'm unorganized, or careless, or a crazy drinker. I'm not." She watched as Sonny Quinn, calculated and careful, walked over to her coffee table and eyed the picture frames on it.
"Are these your siblings? Your family?" Davis was confused, "Uh yeah, my older sister and my younger brother. My mom and my dad." Sonny had picked the picture up and looked at it closely. Why the hell was he looking at my pictures? He should be annoyed with me? He should want to leave.
"It's a good lookin family. Your dad served?" Sonny had noticed the pin on his lapel of his jacket in the photo, the strong posture, the buzzed hair. "Army?" Lisa nodded, "He did three tours. I think he would have stayed in the military for his whole career if he could've." Sonny smiled and put the picture back down on the table. His movements were slow, as slow as Sunday mornings.
"Why did he leave the service then?" His curiosity struck her, the intensity in his eyes as he surveyed the room, then took another big drink from his coffee. Davis stopped her movements unsure of how to answer.
"My brother died. 5 weeks into his first deployment. An IED exploded. My dad left the service after that." Sonny's face practically crumbled. He put his coffee down quickly, "Shit, I'm sorry Davis. I wouldn't have asked. I uh," Davis cut him off though, "No uh, it's fine. I'm not even sure why I said anything. I don't usually, he uh, he just wanted to be, uh with his family. That's all." Her voice was unconvincing but of course Sonny didn't push the topic. She stared at the ground for a moment, playing with the hem of his flannel. Sonny tipped his coffee mug back, letting the last of the black coffee swirl down into his mouth. He savored every last drop before setting it in the sink.
"I should go Ms. Lisa Davis. It was a fun evening." Davis followed him to the doorway, "Oh, here's your flannel!" She nearly forgot she was wearing it, still wracking her muddled mind for what point in the night it ended up on her.
"I'll get it another time, it's alright." His nonchalance was palpable as he opened the door and started to step out.
"Davis, for the record. I didn't even have to work an op with you to know you would have everything the way we wanted it. You're one of the few people Jason would trust to be in the COMS center. That's all I need to know. You don't have to prove anything. You're not unorganized, or unprofessional, or any of the other horrible things. Just a girl who can hold her liquor." He paused, almost waiting for a response more than the small chuckle that came out of Davis before she could stop it, "I'm really sorry about your brother. I know it doesn't do crap but, I am sorry." She watched as he ran a hand through his hair before shoving it into his pocket. She stood there in the doorway, the door wide open, and listened to his boots clomp down the wooden floor of her apartment complex.
That was among one of her favorite memories of Sonny Quinn. He was the first one to truly make her feel she was a team member. As valuable as any of the other members. She would give anything to have that flannel with her right now. It still hung in her closet, she wore it from time to time. Sonny never mentioned it again, and after a few months passed, she completely forgot to even return it.
Now, all she could do was sit in a plastic chair that was wreaking havoc on her back and stare at his face. It was drawn in and more pale than usual. His breathing sounded heavy, almost painful. The doctor said he was developing pneumonia as a result of the shock his body was in and the infection. The various tubes and wires made his large frame look small. He didn't look like Sonny Quinn. She prayed that once his eyes opened, if his eyes opened, he would look just like he did when he stood in the doorway of her apartment.
Hours passed, and doctors came and went. Nurses fiddled with instruments and wrote stats down time and time again. Still, Sonny made no indication of waking up. Although they had all filtered around through the hospital doing seemingly meaningful tasks just to occupy their minds and bodies, none of them left.
Trent was sitting up in bed, slightly uncomfortable, but still sitting up by his own accord. This was a huge improvement from yesterday and the day before where he was passed out on the dirty hospital floor. Brock had let him move around more, even helping him take a walk down the hallway a few minutes ago.
"Alright, let's go again." Trent moved his feet over the edge of the bed. "I'm ready to go again." Trent's voice brought Brock out of his haze. He'd been mostly catching up on paperwork and reading the book he had brought along with him on for the op. Trent looked determined though as he started to slide out of bed, taking the liberty to disconnect the wirings and pulse ox monitor from his finger.
"Uh, are you sure about that. We practically just got back." Trent didn't stop his movements though. He stood on shaky legs and started walking to the door, pulling his IV pole with him.
"I feel good." That was all Trent could manage through gritted teeth. His stitches hurt like a bitch and his muscles ached. He felt weak. He hated that most of all. The only way to get better was to get stronger. Just keep walking. Brock grave in, rising from his chair and going to Trent's other side. He didn't want to come off as hovering, but he worried about giving him too much space. Together they ventured down to the end of the hall. Trent was still slow, but better than the time before. When they reached the end of the hallway, Trent kept going.
"Alright, we should turn back Trent." Brock's voice held a nervous edge.
"No, no. I feel good. I'm good." And so, they continued to walk, around the nurse's station. It was at that point that Trent realized his breathing was a little more labored than he felt before. Each breath was singed with pain, each exhale racked through his lungs. Brock noticed how with each step he was slowing down. Each step his breath got more and more shallow.
"You doing alright?" Brock couldn't keep the question inside any longer. To his surprise, with the doorway of Trent's room in view he bit out the words, "No, I'm, I'm not." He keeled over half way, unsure he could pull himself back up. His stitches burned, his chest ached. Most of all he could not get the damned images of Sonny, bleeding out, shouting overtop of the screaming in his head of medical jargon. They bombarded his mind as he stared at Sonny's door. Just past his. Brock put another hand around him, holding him up.
"Jace!" Brock's voice came out sure and easy, he didn't seem concerned. Trent knew he probably was freaking out. It wasn't often any of them saw Trent himself hurt. It was his job, in fact, to stay away from the bullets. Perhaps Brock was simply taking a page from Trent's book and acting as though everything was peachy. Jason came out of Sonny's room, his head on a swivel, the bags under his eyes highlighted by the hallway lights. He jogged down the hall, the short 30 feet to where Brock was holding up Trent. His face was pale, his hands shaky as one of them latched onto Jason's forearm.
"Alright bro, alright we got ya. You're good. Keep walking." Jason's was steady and strong, so was Brock. They were like two crutches on either side, propelling him forward. With Brock on one side, his hand carefully placed on Trent's hip to help hold him up with the other grasping his forearm, and Jason latched on his other side, pulling the IV pole with one hand and holding Trent's torso up with the other, they meandered down the hall. Eric stuck his head out of Sonny's room, his eyes taking in the three men before him. If they were all dressed in their uniforms he would have felt as though he'd seen this scene before. Not necessarily with these men but similar situations. Brothers hauling each other back to safety, back to home. As they made it to Trent's door though, he only stopped instead of entering the room.
"No, I want, I want to see Sonny." He took another pained step forward. Brock hesitated, "Trent, man, maybe you should rest a second." Eric was coming to the hallway now, moving out of the way as Trent continued to march forward. He was nothing if not determined. Trent didn't say anything else and Jason was too tired at this point to put up much of a fight as they reached the doorway of Sonny's room. Clay rose from his chair, quickly sliding it closer to Trent. Even eliminating just one step would be seemingly helpful to him at this point.
He sank into the seat, his stitches pulling with every movement. For the first time in nearly 3 days though he could breathe a little bit easier. Not by a lot, and that breath certainly caught in his throat every time he looked at Sonny's still figure but finally seeing him, actually seeing he was still in fact breathing, made Trent feel like he could relax again.
He wasn't sure how long he sat there, simply staring at his monitors and reading the chart the doctor left for him, but eventually Eric came over and placed a hand on his shoulder.
"You should really get back to your room before the nurses want to kill me more than they already do." He let out a sigh, shifting uncomfortably.
"I think I should stay until he wakes up. I'd like to see how his blood pressure and pulse ox holds out." Eric ran a hand over his face, the bags under his eyes deep blue like a bruise.
"Come on man." It was Clay now, "The doc is gonna spring you out of here tomorrow morning. Just let everyone take care of you for a few more hours. We'll let you know how he's doing." Trent surprised even himself by listening to their youngest team member. He shakily pushed himself out of the chair and Eric and Brock both helped him back to his room, settled him back into his bed, and then immediately pushed the morphine release button. Although he tried to fight it, it wasn't more than a few minutes before he was able to blissfully pass out.
"Gentlemen, Davis, Mandy, I appreciate all of your dedication to Sonny. Wanting to stay with him is admirable. This doesn't mean we can ignore sleeping and eating and actually taking care of ourselves. It's nearly 10 pm. Go and eat and then we can take shifts going to the barracks and sleeping." Jason simply stood against the wall of Sonny's room with his hands crossed over his chest. Internally he was raging, angry at Ray, angry at Blackburn for trying to get him to leave, angry at the whole situation. Kairos and Mandy decided to go pick up some food from the barracks for the rest of the team, Brock eventually opting to join them. Now there was Davis, Eric, Clay, Jason, and Ray all sitting idly by as Sonny continued to maintain his unconscious state. As the rest of the team came back with boxes of food and bottles of water Jason stood to help distribute it. He watched as Lisa only picked at her food and sipped on the water every couple of minutes. He himself was not very hungry.
Eric stared across the room at his BRAVO 1. He was supposed to be keeping the team together. At this point, he had heard at least a brief synopsis of the shouting match Ray and Jace got in earlier. He wasn't surprised to hear that the very palpable tension that had been between them from the past few months finally boiled over. He had to admit he was happy that they were both injured, or else he was sure they would've beat the hell out of each other. Maybe that would have been better, Eric pondered as he scarfed down his food. The two of them were not good at sharing how they felt so maybe if they at least could get a few good punches in, make each other bleed a bit, then they'd feel good with each other again. The words wouldn't need to be said.
After their late dinner, the team fell in to a silence. As more and more time ticked by, they all knew that was not a good sign. Sonny's fever had gone back up a little bit and the doctors were coming in more and more frequently. Eventually, Mandy and Kairos stood, both saying they were going to go get some rest and come back for the morning shift of sitting with Sonny. Brock was sleeping in Trent's room. Lisa was still sitting vigilantly next to Sonny's bed, rising every once in a while, to walk the length of his room before sitting again. Ray was sitting in the corner, reading from the Bible the hospital had.
"Matthew 18: 21-22 Then Peter came up and said to him, "Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him?" Ray read the words several times before shutting the book quietly and looking at the man across from him. His eyes passed over Eric who was on his phone replying to emails and operation requests. Clay was sitting next to Sonny's bed, his feet on the plastic foot of the bed, his hand absentmindedly rubbing the bullet bruise on his chest, the other hand nursing his nth cup of coffee. Finally, his eyes landed on Jason.
His eyes looked more tired than he had seen before. This wasn't the type of exhaustion that he saw at the end of long operations, or close calls, or deployments that just seem to endlessly get extended. This was exhaustion from staying up all night with his motherless children, trying to get rest but having rest evade him at all costs, from the nightmares, from the challenges of Mandy, from the betrayal of his 2nd man. He stood from his chair, leaving the Bible on the plastic chair.
"Jace, you wanna go get some coffee?" Eric was surprised to see Ray extending the Olive Branch. Surprised, but pleased.
"Ya know? I'm good." Jason hardly looked up. "Come on brother, come get some damn coffee." Jason, although still angry, knew that eventually they would have to talk. He stood and let Ray lead them out of Sonny's hospital room. As much as he wanted to go back to being angry at Ray, let the anger take over and pull away from his anxiety over Sonny's condition, he knew he couldn't. They walked silently down the hallway to the small station that had water and coffee. The silence was suffocating, only the beeping of monitors from other rooms, and the quiet chatter of night duty nurses, filled the tense air between them as Jason stared at the dark liquid that swirled down into his cup. Yeah, they really needed to talk.
Sometime around midnight Spencer watched Davis's head snap up from drifting to sleep accidentally. She had been trying to fight it for well over an hour now. Her eyes drifting shut, her head lolling to the side, only to snap back over.
"Davis, just sleep for a little bit. It's ok. You're allowed to rest." She shook her head, her voice hoarse from not talking much.
"I'm alright. Thanks though." She stretched her arms and yawned.
"If Blackburn decided to be smart and sleep for a few hours, you should too." Clay's voice was a whisper as they both looked over at Eric's sleeping figure. His lean body was stretched across a chair, his head leaning back against the wall, his legs outstretched across the hardwood floor. Davis was hesitating, not saying no yet.
"You love him, don't you?" Lisa's breath caught in her throat. "What? What did you say?" Clay rose from his chair, leaning his arms across the side bars of Sonny's bed. He still lay there, a sweaty, and unconscious mess. They had adjusted his meds recently and hoped for a change.
"I love Stella, or at least, I believe I do. I feel like I'm losing her Davis. I don't want to lose her, I'll do everything I can to not lose her, but it scared the hell out of her when I took a round to the chest." Davis, unsure of what Clay was getting at, apologized, "I'm so sorry Clay. I didn't know you guys were rocky."
Clay adjusted the blanket on Sonny. "I'd do it all over again, even if we don't end up together. I think I'll always love her." Davis only nodded. "I see the way you look at him. You love him. This has you torn up inside." She went back to shaking her head.
"Spenc, you don't know what you're talking about. The COMS team gets close to all the teams they work with. I love all of you guys as brothers." It was convincing, and a valid point. Clay could see through it though when she finally brought herself to look at Sonny as Clay pointed out the obvious, "He might not make it Lisa. He could pull through and lose his leg a few weeks down the road. He could make it and never operate again. Would you love him if he wasn't on the team?" Tears were streaming down her face as Clay spoke.
"Of course. I'd, I'd love, all, all of you." She shuttered. "That may be true but just don't lose an opportunity. I believe with every fiber of my being that he's going to wake up. I do. I don't know when, but I know he will. Don't waste that. Even if it hurts, even if it messes everything up. I'm telling you Davis, it's worth it." She was nodding furiously and grabbed at Sonny's hand.
"Just open those eyes Sonny Southern Cowboy Quinn." She smiled the slightest bit as the old drunken nickname rolled off her tongue.
"Sleep, Davis. I'll stay awake. If anything happens, I'll wake you. You have my word." After a moment, she nodded and adjusted herself in the chair. If not for herself, she figured she could rest for Clay. He sounded fed up and exhausted beyond his years. It took only a few minutes for her breathing to even out and her to drift into a sound sleep. Clay rose again after a few minutes and laid a blanket over her outstretched torso.
"Alright, Quinn, enough playing around. You gotta wake up." Clay was left with his own thoughts as Eric and Davis slept and Ray and Jason were God only knows talking their crap out. Clay felt incredibly young and inexperienced while at the same time feeling overwhelmingly old. He wished for nothing more than to hug Stella and tell her it would all be ok as long as they were together.
Clay watched as the clock rolled to 13:03. He fought to keep his eyes open and contemplated waking Eric to ask him to switch off with him now. The small movement of Sonny's hands balling into fists caught his attention.
"Sonny?" He hesitantly asked. Sonny's eyes scrunched up, his hands moving sluggishly to his oxygen mask that covered his face, pulling weakly at it.
"No, no, easy man. Sh sh sh." Clay stood over him and gently pulled his hands from his face. Sonny moaned, the pain evidently coursing through his body.
"Blackburn. Hey, wake up." Eric's eyes slowly slid open, taking in Clay gently holding Sonny's hands. He came to the edge of the bed as well.
"Take it easy Sonny. You're alright. Can you hear us?" Sonny's mind struggled to keep up with the words.
"I, I wo, won't ta,talk. No." Eric shook his head, trying to cut through the fever images or dreams or whatever the hell Sonny was muttering about.
"I'll get the doctor, keep him awake, keep him calm." Eric jogged into the hallway. Now, Davis started to awaken.
"Sonny! Thank God! You're awake." He grabbed onto her wrist with a strength that surprised her. Clay let him cling to her, his grip tightening. "Sonny, take it easy, that uh, that hurts." She used her other hand to pull at his arm, "No, no, let her, don't." He wasn't making any sense as he continued with increasing intensity to mutter his lack of cooperation.
"Quinn, let go. Stop, let go." Clay's voice cut through the fever and the drugs for a moment, he released her arm. Davis, not discouraged by any means stayed close by, rubbing absently as her wrist that she was sure would bruise.
A nurse came into the room, Eric in tow. "He's awake?" She seemed surprised.
"Yes, I think he um I think he's dreaming or hallucinating or something. He grabbed onto Davis and wouldn't let go." Sonny rolled to his side. "Yes, his fever is breaking but he can still experience very intense and vivid dreams because of it. Try your best to comfort him. I'm going to get some cooling blankets." She scrambled out of the room. Eric came back to the bed next to Clay.
"Sonny look at me, it's Commander Blackburn. Stand down." Sonny seemed to have a small moment of recognition, "We're here man. It's alright. You're ok." Clay added on, trying to encourage him back to them. Davis leaned over, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Sonny, look, we're here. The team is here. You're in a hospital." The nurse came back in with cooling blankets and despite the intense shivers that started racking his body, the nurse insisted it was good for him.
"Hos, hospital?" His voice was so hoarse, it sounded like sand paper. "Yes, a base hospital. The team pulled you to a mine shaft after the grenade went off. You lost a lot of blood but you're ok." Sonny tried again to pull at his IV. Clay's hands stopped him with gentle strength.
"Don't mess with that. You're a little confused. Just try to relax." All of their heads turned to see Trent, who was suddenly in the room, shaky on his feet but certainly standing there. Clay pulled a chair up for him, but Trent insisted he was fine. Brock stood behind him in the doorway and simply shrugged his shoulders. "He heard the talking and wouldn't stay put."
"You're alright bro, we got you. You just rest. I stitched ya up. You're not captured, you're safe. We're all safe. The whole team is good, sh, go back to sleep and rest. You'll feel a little worse before you feel better." Trent seemed to be the best one to calm him. He knew just what to say to get his movements to seize. As Sonny closed his eyes, the drugs pulling him back under he whispered, "Davis?" She instantly replied, "Yeah Son, I'm here." His eyes fluttered open slightly before closing again, "Good, good you,you're here." She kissed the back of his hand, "Rest Sonny Quinn. Rest."
The doctors came and went then, checking vitals and talking to the team about what they just experienced. They explained that as his fever continued to come down, he would most likely have intense dreams, and maybe even hallucinations. Not to mention he would be weak, nauseous, and hurt like hell from both the wound on his stomach and his leg.
Jason and Ray stood in the hallway both staring anywhere but each other. Finally, it was Ray that broke the deafening silence between them.
"Jace, I'm sorry. I should never have said that you don't deserve the team. I, I know that you're right about my shoulder. I never should have kept it from you. You're right about all of it. The kid that got blown, uh, got killed, he did get in my head." Ray tried to keep himself from continuing, let Jason respond. Force him to say something.
"Why'd you keep it from me Ray? Huh? You say we're brothers. I don't keep shit from you, but you couldn't even come to me as your team leader, or as your friend, or as your brother to tell me you were hurt. Besides that, you were killing yourself with guilt over this and you couldn't tell me. Why?" Now it was Jason's turn to force a response.
"I don't know." Jason shook his head. He wasn't accepting that. "Why? Why wouldn't you tell me?"
"Jason, I couldn't face it! I couldn't bear it! I wasn't sleeping. Hell, every time I closed my eyes, I just saw my beautiful kids getting blown to pieces morphing into that little boy. He was a little boy and I killed him. It was my fault. Mine! I couldn't ask someone else to shoulder that. I couldn't admit that to myself how that hell was I supposed to admit it to you that I fucked up! Jason, I fucked up!" Ray was yelling, causing several of the nurses to look over at them.
"Ray." Jason tried to cut him off, but he just continued, "It killed me to keep it from you. It killed me to keep it from Naima and have no one to talk to but Jason I'm BRAVO 2. I'm not supposed to be causing you issues! Not to mention you were trying to hold your family together, get back together with Alana." His voice got quieter, exhaustion seeping into his words, "Everything was falling apart faster than I could try to help you fix it. I couldn't keep up. Then the halo crash and your head happened. Then you wanted nothing to do with me and it was all I could do to not start every morning by downing a bottle of Whiskey. I still don't go a day without thinking of my mistakes. Then Alana d,died, and I didn't know how to help you when I knew you hated me." Jason sharply stopped him.
"I did not hate you Ray. I could not ever hate you. You were with me when both my kids were born. I took Naima to Lamaze classes when you broke your arm on that operation. I helped teach you how to change a diaper. You've carried me home from a night of drinking more times than I can count. I have taken bullets for you and you have taken them for me. I can't hate you Ray. I hate what you did. But I never hated you. I hated that you kept it from me. I did not hate you. I do not hate you. You hate yourself, and that's fine for a little while, then you have to let it go Ray. Let. It. Go. Before it consumes you." Ray's face crumbled before Jason as Jason pulled him in close, pulled his head into his shoulder and let him hate himself. He let Ray cry in the midst of the hospital hallway. He needed to feel this guilt once more before he put it away for good.
"I killed him. I killed him." Jason sank to the ground, for the second time since this operation, he let the sorrow take him down to the ground. This time though, he was the one holding it together.
"It was an accident. It was war." Jason continued to repeat this over and over as they sat next to each other, staring straight ahead. Eventually fading into silence again, tears sliding down Ray's cheeks, Jason's hand on his knee.
Ray suddenly started laughing, bottom of his stomach, hard core laughing.
"What the hell is so funny?" Jason's smile took over his face, "I'm thinking about how pissed Naima was when she came back from Lamaze class with you." They both started laughing, truly laughing.
"She said you were horrible. Didn't know how Alana had two beautiful kids with you." Jason was grasping at his stomach for air, "I don't know either! I never got it down!" Their laughter filled the hallway until Jason's phone buzzed. He stood up with ferocity.
"Get up! Sonny woke up!" With those three words, "Sonny woke up" they both were snapped out of their temporary relief of agony and pain. The agony of waiting, the pain of thinking of all the possibilities.
Would he wake up? Would he be able to operate? Would he lose his leg?
The two men sprinted down the hallway, back around the corner to Sonny's room.
"Ray." Jason stopped short, Ray turning back around to face him. Jason's face held a pain he'd seen only when he found him the hallway of the hospital after Alana's death. It was the face he held when team members died. It was the face he wore when it was so unbearable, so all consuming, that he could no longer keep it internalized. It wasn't often Ray saw it, but he'd seen it so much in the past year it seemed almost familiar.
"What is it Jason?" Ray wasn't sure he wanted to know as they stood outside Sonny's room, the apprehension of going inside palpable.
"I'm sorry. I'm sorry for being so hard on you and not listening to you. It was your job to come to me as your team leader but as your team leader and as your friend I should have been there for you. I'm sorry." Jason shook his head, guilt creeping into his eyes. Ray closed the space between them, outstretching his hand for a hand shake.
"Whatever happens brother." Jason clasped his hand into Ray's, shaking firmly, then pulling him into a hug.
"Whatever happens brother." Jason responded. The two opened the doorway to Sonny's room, finding him unconscious again. Davis looked optimistic but teary eyed. It was something they had hardly ever seen. Eric looked apprehensive, Clay nervous. Sonny's doctor stood in the middle of the room.
"We should talk."
AN: There it is! I really liked this chapter! Sonny has some more issues in the next chapter. I know that I've really drawn out his recovery, but I wanted to make it as realistic as I could with my limited medical knowledge (which is super limited). None the less, I hope ya'll enjoy let me know what you thought!