A/N: Okay, so I'm super nervous about this chapter, and sorry if it sucks!

xxxx

It wasn't like Clay had never lost men before. It was inevitable when you spent the majority of your time in dangerous situations. But this team was different-always had been. This team played Blindman's Bluff for weapons and snuck into hospitals for new babies and went to niece's soccer games and had barbeques in the park between missions.

In short, they'd become a family, and especially since Roque (that sonuvabitch), his team had become even more important to him. They were all he had now- a strange family to be sure, wise-cracking and explosive and lethal- but a family.

And now it was in danger of coming apart.

Clay had analyzed his team many, many times before, figured out where they were inefficient and where they needed improvement, had evaluated performances, given accolades or criticisms. He'd never really had to analyze it like this before, had never looked at his team in terms of who-went-where emotionally and not conclusion he came to was unexpected.

Jensen, the loud-mouthed, awkward tech geek, was the glue that kept his team together.

The hacker brought out the protective side of Pooch, gave the man something to worry about and care about other than the wife and baby he left at home. Jensen didn't allow Cougar to be completely withdrawn, refused to let the sniper fold in on himself and ignore everyone else as he was so prone to do. He quietly teased Aisha, helped smooth out her biting edges and make her almost enjoyable.

And the more Clay thought about it, the more he realized that since Roque (that sonuvabitch), Jensen had quietly been helping him move on. Jensen had accompanied Clay to stake outs without being asked, sat in Clay's yellow car and stayed mostly quiet, capping his usually unfiltered mouth for Clay's sake. He'd gently nudged Clay out of his depression, poking fun at him, ordering his favorite food and making sure he ate it, sometimes intentionally annoying him just to get a reaction. He'd even rigged up a dart board with Max's face on it that swung on the motel door, and that was used so often that a replacement picture would soon be necessary.

Yes, it was Jensen who kept them together. That became all the more apparent when Jensen was so badly injured. He'd been injured before, but that was before this whole team-is-family thing, and this was the most severely wounded any of them had been.

Cougar was still sitting outside, still clutching Jensen's shattered glasses. Clay felt a pang of worry for the quiet sniper, and he knew that if Jensen didn't make it, Cougar likely wouldn't either, would just fade away until he simply disappeared. Pooch was sitting in a chair at the table where he could see the tech, but his head kept dropping as he fought the sleep that was threatening.

"Sleep," Clay said, putting a hand on Pooch's shoulder. Pooch nodded and turned, burying his head in his arms on the table that still smelled of bleach. Clay walked to the couch and stood inspecting Jensen for a minute, taking in his pallor and his labored breathing and the bandages that were showing the slightest red stains already. The saline bag that was dripping into his arm was nearly out, so Clay switched it out with ease before sitting down on the floor next to Jensen's head.

"Hey kid," he whispered, wiping the damp washcloth over the hacker's forehead, wincing at the damp inhales and the rattling exhales. "Help's coming, Jensen. Just keep breathing."

Jensen shifted slightly, a grimace of pain on his face. He erupted suddenly in a harsh, wet cough that had Clay hurrying to sit him up to ease his breathing while Pooch woke abruptly and came to help. The coughing continued until Jensen's pale face was flushed, and by the time it ended, blood and saliva were stringing from his lips. He peered up at Clay and Pooch with hazy, glassy eyes, his face creased with pain as he struggled to breathe.

"Jensen, deep breaths," Clay murmured even as he eased himself onto the couch and behind the struggling hacker, rubbing at Jensen's back.

"Shit, Clay," Pooch whispered as he gently wiped the blood from Jensen's colorless lips, worry making his voice tremble.

"Breathe with me, Jensen, come on," Clay said, settling Jensen against him and breathing deeply. He looked up and made eye contact with Pooch as Jensen struggled to breathe and felt his own worry mirrored in Pooch's face. Jensen shuddered and trembled in front of him, breathing in harsh gasps and soft whimpers.

"When the hell is your help coming, Clay?" Pooch whispered

"Anytime," Clay answered, wondering for the thousandth time if he was making the right call here.

"Anytime needs to be soon," Pooch said quietly, ruffling Jensen's hair. "Come on, kid." Jensen blinked once, then fell unconscious again, head lolling backward and limbs pliant and limp.

"Damn it," Clay muttered. "Okay, we're-"

He was interrupted by the door slamming open. Aisha came in, her arms full, followed by Cougar who was burdened in a similar fashion.

"Aisha?" Clay said questioningly.

"Didn't get the bastard," she responded tersely. "But I got other stuff."

She started to unload the various bags and boxes she had carried in, setting them out on the table before pausing and turning towards Clay.

"Clay. How is he?" She asked quietly, her head down in an attempt to hide the surprisingly strong emotions that Clay could see swirling beneath her tough exterior.

"Not too good," he answered in an equally hushed tone, and Aisha nodded shortly.

"Hopefully some of this will help," she said, gesturing toward the various machines and supplies she'd brought. Clay stood and approached the table, critically eyeing the array of medical provisions.

There were IV bags and tubing, oxygen masks, gauze and bandages and other things- some of which Clay couldn't even identify.

"Do you even know what this is?" Clay asked, holding up a long length of tube attached to a bag of some sort even as he gathered supplies with his other hand.

Aisha shrugged. "No, but it looks…useful," she answered, and Clay snorted.

"Did you just knock off an ambulance?" He asked, heading back towards Jensen with his arms full.

"Maybe," Aisha responded, following behind Clay.

Clay squatted next to Jensen and motioned to Pooch, who helped sit the hacker upright. Clay slipped an oxygen mask over the tech's face as Aisha turned on the oxygen tank. Jensen's breathing eased up slightly, but not enough to satisfy Clay or Pooch.

"Clay?" Cougar said quietly, coming up next to the team leader. Clay looked up at the sniper, noting the pain and exhaustion evident in his face.

"He's…he's not too good," Clay said. It wasn't a good enough answer, wasn't what any of them wanted to hear, but it was the truth. Cougar bowed his head and nodded, trembling fingers coming up to play idly with his hat.

"Why don't you sit down?" Aisha said suddenly, her tone far more gentle than usual. She helped guide the shake sniper to a chair, passing him a Gatorade. "Get your electrolytes up," she ordered. Cougar obediently sipped at the drink, refusing to take his eyes off of Jensen.

The tech geek was starting to slip away from them.

He was pale aside from the scarlet spots on his cheeks that spoke of the fever raging through his body. He was sweaty and clammy and every breath spoke of probable pneumonia. Shock was settling in, stealing his color and his strength, and Jensen seemed to be wilting before their eyes.

A knock on the door startled everyone.

Aisha approached it quietly, gun drawn and ready. She peered suspiciously through the peephole, then turned to Clay, clearly confused.

"There's some chick out there," she said. "She's got a first-aid kit on her."

"She's our help," Clay answered "Let her in."

Aisha threw him another glance, this one suspicious, and opened the door.

"Hi," the woman said, glancing tentatively around the room. "Clay."

"Diane," Clay responded. "Thanks for coming."

"Of course," Diane said, striding forward to Jensen's side. She started quickly unloading things from her kit.

"Sorry to interrupt, but who the hell are you?" Aisha said, and Clay shook his head at her bluntness.

"This is Diane. She and I…We had a thing going for awhile," he said, and Aisha shook her head. "She's a trauma surgeon. If anyone can help Jensen, it's her." He quickly introduced her to the team, noting without surprise how skeptical they seemed of her.

"Do you think this is smart, Clay? I mean, can we trust her?" Pooch asked, watching suspiciously as Diane pulled out a stethoscope.

"I've worked with the FBI before," Diane said as she listened to Jensen's chest. "I know how to keep quiet."

Aisha smirked at Clay and Pooch raised an eyebrow.

"You've worked with the FBI before?" Pooch repeated, and Diane nodded.

"Yep. Hell, I've patched Clay up before and I never told a soul."

"Clay who works for the FBI," Aisha clarified.

"Yeah," Diane said, and Clay was glad she was focused on Jensen or she might have gotten suspicious about this particular line of questioning.

"And you didn't think you should talk to us about this first?" Pooch asked.

"I made a decision," Clay said. "An informed one. I know you don't know her, but I trust her-"

"Diane?" Cougar asked suddenly, watching closely as Diane moved the stethoscope from front to back to front again. The woman frowned.

"His lungs sound like shit," she answered tersely. "He's got decreased breath sounds in both of them, and I bet the left one collapses before too long. His heart's straining pretty badly too, and it's a bit erratic."

She pulled a blood pressure cuff out of her bag and wrapped it around Jensen's (relatively) good arm, frowning again.

"His BP is dangerously low. We've got to get some blood in him, now."

"Yeah, about that," Pooch started, but Diane waved him away.

"I brought some O negative blood with me. It's in my car." She held the keys out to Aisha, who made no move to take them and just looked at her with disdain. Cougar glared at Aisha and took the keys, heading out to get it.

"Listen, I don't know who you are or what your problem with me is, but if you want your friend to live, you're going to have to help me. He's bad off, we have limited supplies, and even more limited people. So get your head out of your ass and help me."

Pooch looked like he was trying to hold in a smirk, but Clay didn't bother covering up his chuckle. Aisha shot him a look.

"I see what they mean," Aisha snapped. "You date crazy bitches."

Diane looked up for a second at Aisha, then turned back to Jensen.

"Looks like Clay's taste hasn't changed," she said, and Aisha glared at her, finger twitching over the trigger of her gun.

"Aisha," Clay said in a warning tone. Aisha's finger relaxed.

"Shit!" Diane swore suddenly, as she and Pooch lifted Jensen up and yanked away the oxygen mask, and Jensen started retching thick, red blood. He was gasping for air and wheezing by the time the coughing started, and the oxygen mask was no longer helping. His lips started turning blue.

"Aisha, I need a scalpel from my kit, Pooch, Clay, we gotta get him up on that table."

Cougar burst into the room, cooler in hand, taking the scene in with wide eyes before hurrying forward to help.

"Okay, I'm going to put a chest tube in, and it's gonna hurt like hell. Pooch, Cougar, you hold him down. Clay, get some of that blood started in an IV."

Aisha handed her the scalpel and Diane quickly made a cut between two of Jensen's ribs. The hacker moaned weakly, but didn't react otherwise. When Diane stuck her fingers between his ribs, widening the hole, and then shoved a tube in, Jensen thrashed out, trying to arch off the table, a strangled scream coming from his lips.

"Hey, it's okay," Aisha said, settling the oxygen mask back over his face.

"What now?" Clay asked quietly, and Diane stood for a moment, clearly thinking hard.

"I run a clinic. It closes at night, but it should have what we need, and we can sneak in without being seen since no one will be there."

"What we need?" Cougar asked quietly. Diane took a deep breath.

"He's bleeding internally. He's on the verge of refractory shock, which is irreversible. We have to get more blood into him without him losing it all into his abdomen. His temperature is dangerously high; we don't get it down and we're looking at seizures and irreversible brain damage. So yeah, we're going to need some stuff that we don't have here. I'm going to have to go in and operate on his abdomen, and I can't do that on a table in a motel room."

A heavy silence fell over the room.

"Holy shit," Pooch said finally. "I guess we'd better get him to your clinic."

Clay nodded.

"Okay, let's get this done," he said, watching as his team quickly and efficiently gathered up the medical supplies and started gently carrying Jensen out to the van.

"Don't think this is over," Aisha whispered into his ear. "I don't trust her, and I don't trust you enough to make decisions like that without talking to us."

She walked away with an expression of disgust, and Clay watched her go with a sigh.

Jensen was the glue of his team, alright.

Clay just hoped that calling Diane wouldn't prove to be the unraveling of it.

xxxx

A/N (again): Okay, so don't worry, I don't plan on making Diane a love interest for Clay, but I do like the tension that another woman might add to the team (meaning with Aisha) and I wanted to maybe explore some of Clay's past romantic endeavors…while still getting help for Jensen, of course.