A/N: So I know I wasn't sure about writing more, but this one came to me and wouldn't leave. Hope you enjoy!
xxxx
"Clay?" Jensen asks, his voice husky. He coughs abruptly, a deep, chest-rattling noise that ends with him hawking a huge wad of phlegm onto the floor of their cell. Clay winces at the sound, knowing it's because of the icy cold water Jensen's inhaled.
"Yeah, J. What's up?"
"You think Cougar got away?"
Jensen sounds young and just the slightest bit scared. Clay is quiet a second. He looks up and meets eyes with Roque, who looks away, and Pooch, who shakes his head.
"Yeah, Jensen. I'm sure of it."
In reality, he doesn't know that, isn't even sure if he believes it. Pooch and Jensen both got captured pretty quickly, though neither of them went down without a fight, and Roque and Clay weren't really that far behind. Cougar is the only one that hadn't been thrown in the prison with them, but it's entirely possible that he's already been killed.
Not that Clay is going to say that to Jensen.
The cell door swings open and Clay hauls himself to his feet, standing protectively in front of his men. Roque stands too, a familiar and fearsome presence just behind his left shoulder, and Pooch takes up Clay's other side. Jensen makes it to his knees, coughing roughly, before falling forward, barely catching himself with his hands. Pooch silently helps him to his feet, one arm tucked around Jensen's waist.
The guard who comes to the door doesn't speak and roughly cuffs their hands before herding them out of the room. Jensen is stumbling badly, bent practically in half as he tries to support his ribs with his hands restrained behind his back. Pooch moves toward him to try to help, but the guard sees and clubs him in the stomach.
"'M okay," Jensen murmurs. Roque snorts.
"Yeah, obviously."
"I'm flipping you off right now." Jensen says, "I'm telling you 'cause I know you can't see it."
Roque rolls his eyes.
The guard stops them abruptly next to a now familiar door and shoves them in. Jensen manages to keep his footing only by stumbling into Roque, who does his best to stabilize the tech's jerky movements.
"Thanks," Jensen slurs, before dropping to his knees. The others soon join him on the floor, waiting for their interrogator to come into the room. They've been herded in here every day since being captured, and it always happens the same way: Albanian captors come in and bark at them in Albanian. Losers respond by either ignoring them or making the unspoken 'go to hell' inherently clear. And then…
"Ah, shit," Pooch grumbles as the huge Albanian guy they've taken to calling 'Colossus' walks into the room, followed by his cronies, who stand threateningly behind the Losers. Today he doesn't even bother with the yelled pleasantries and goes straight for the throat, yanking Jensen up by one arm and dragging him toward the center of the room.
"Hey! Asshole! Take me instead!" Clay yells. It's the same thing he's yelled every day. Pooch and Roque are shouting similar demands, but as always, they're ignored as Jensen is dropped in front of a large tank of icy water.
Colossus looks up at them and smiles before shoving Jensen's head into the tank.
Roque barks out a curse and strains toward the tech, but he immediately gets pistol whipped and falls silent. Pooch is shaking with anger, his teeth grinding together as he looks at the ground, unable to watch Jensen's flailing, desperate movements. Clay forces himself to watch, though it's a brutal reminder that for all he's a total badass, he still couldn't keep his men safe.
Jensen's flailing starts to fade, then stops altogether.
"You're killing him! Damn it, let him up!" Pooch screams, just as Colossus hauls Jensen's limp form from the water and hurls him to the floor, watching with a cruel smile as Jensen chokes and splutters and curls in on himself. Then they're unceremoniously picked up and hauled back to their holding cell.
Jensen is shivering uncontrollably, his teeth clattering together, his newly released arms coming up to wrap around his aching chest. Clay moves toward the tech and is surprised when he's beaten to the punch by Roque, who silently strips off Jensen's soaked clothing and tucks the shivering form close to his own body. Jensen blinks owlishly up at Roque.
"Hey," he says in confusion. "What're you doing here?"
"Keeping your ass alive," Roque says, but he doesn't really sound angry.
"So I've got something to tell y'all," Pooch says suddenly. His voice is tremulous.
"Yeah?" Clay says.
"Yeah. I didn't want to tell you here 'cause it seems like bad voodoo or something, but…"
"Go on," Roque growls, cutting Pooch off before he can finish the sentence.
"Jolene's pregnant," Pooch says, smiling even as he starts to tear up. "I'm gonna be a dad."
"Well, shit," Roque says eloquently.
"Congratulations," Clay says, smiling wanly and feeling even more guilt over this failed op. "That's great."
"Yeah, good job, man," Jensen says, then turns toward Roque. "Hey, Roque," he says in an exaggerated whisper that they can all hear.
"Yeah," Roque answers.
"Looks like s'mbody screwed the Pooch," Jensen says, chuckling to himself. Roque lets out a roar of laughter that Clay joins, while Pooch looks scandalized.
"Really? Really, J?" He says, watching as his three companions howl with laughter.
"It's-funny," Jensen gasps, then falls into a fit of coughing that lasts so long his face starts to turn red. The laughter dies abruptly as Roque shifts Jensen so he's sitting somewhat upright and starts pounding on his back. The coughs finally taper off, but are replaced with shaky, erratic breathing that seems to rattle in the tech's chest.
"You aren't s'posed to breath the water, dumbass," Roque teases quietly.
"Di'nt mean to," Jensen slurs. "It was cold and I had t' breathe. 'm sorry."
"Ssh, it's okay," Roque says, clearly regretting the joke. Jensen nods, struggling to take in a deeper breath, before drifting asleep.
"We need to get out of here," Pooch says quietly. "Right now."
"Yeah," Roque says, looking down at the trembling hacker in his arms. "No shit."
That night, Jensen gets significantly worse. He can't breathe at all unless he's sitting up, and even then it's wheezy and choking. His lips and nail beds are starting to get the slightest tinge of blue. Roque isn't panicking, because he doesn't do that, but he is starting to get a bit…anxious.
"Roque?" Jensen gasps, arms flailing for purchase. "Roque?"
"Yeah Jensen. You're okay," Roque answers, lying through his teeth as he helps prop Jensen up more.
"C-can't," Jensen pants. "C-c-can't."
Clay swears and moves toward Roque and Jensen. Roque is holding Jensen up completely, looking up at Clay with unmistakable worry in his eyes.
"Yes you can, J," Clay says, slapping lightly at Jensen's cheek. Jensen's head lolls, but he manages to make eye contact with Clay.
"Jensen, you listen to me. You're a pain in the ass, but you're a damn good hacker and a damn good soldier, and I don't want to find a replacement for you. So you stay with me, you hear me? Just keep breathing, J."
Jensen nods, mouth dropping open and head falling back against Roque's shoulder, his neck cording as he struggles for breath.
"That's good, Jensen," Clay says. "Keep it up, J."
Jensen nods again, almost imperceptibly. His lips are still blue and his gaze is starting to go unfocused; Clay knows it's a bad sign. A feeling of frustration mingled with helplessness washes over him, threatening to suffocate him completely.
"Clay!" Pooch barks suddenly. Clay looks up to see that Jensen has finally passed out, his breathing shallow and hitching. His eyes are still slightly open, but the pupils are rolled back. The slit of white under his eyelids is disconcerting.
"Shit," Clay says under his breath, but there isn't really anything else he can do, other than help sit him up more against Roque's chest.
"He's not gonna make it," Roque says, his voice quiet and subdued.
"Probably not," Clay murmurs. He pulls his shirt off over his head and tucks it around Jensen's shivering form. Tattered though it is, maybe it will give him some warmth.
"We should make sure he's comfortable," Clay says quietly. Roque nods and shifts Jensen in his arms, and Pooch sniffles a bit.
"Listen, J," he says, putting a hand on Jensen's forearm. "If you make it, I'll let you hold the baby. Hell, I'll name the baby after you. Okay? So just…just stay."
Jensen doesn't answer or otherwise indicate that he's heard, so the cell lapses into silence once again. Pooch seems especially tense, bordering on total meltdown.
"Pooch?" Clay says. "We're going to get out of here. You're going to be a great dad."
Pooch shrugs. "Will Jensen get out of here with us?" He asks quietly.
And that is the question, isn't it.
Suddenly, the sounds of rapid gunfire approach, accompanied by yells of pain and surprise, and then the door is flung open. Cougar is standing there, his sniper rifle slung over one shoulder, an assault rifle in his hands.
"Hola," he says, quickly surveying them. He swears lightly when he sees Jensen and hurries to the tech's side, resting a palm on his forehead. He turns to Clay, his concern unmasked.
"We need to leave. Now."
He turns back to Jensen and smiles tenderly.
"Come on, amigo," he says, helping pull Jensen up. He and Roque both loop their shoulders under Jensen's arms and help him out of the cell.
"You are okay, Jensen," Cougar whispers. "I am here now. You are okay."
xxxx
Standing in the pouring rain, Jensen, Cougar, Aisha and Clay all watch in excitement as Pooch crawls in through the hospital window and wait eagerly for news.
It isn't long before Pooch's excited shout comes over the radio.
"It's a boy!"
The Losers laugh and pop the top off of a bottle of champagne, celebrating in the rain.
"What's the name?" Aisha asks the next day, when they're led into the hospital room where Jolene is holding the baby.
Pooch looks at Jensen and grins.
"Matthew Jensen," he says. Clay and Cougar laugh and nudge Jensen in the ribs, and if Jensen is a little teary eyed, nobody says anything about it.
xxxx
A/N 2: Also, this fic partially came around just because I really, really wanted to get 'screwed the Pooch' in there somewhere!