VI.
It's nearly midnight when they finally make it back to base.
Patton greets them at the door, sniffing and pawing at each member of the team as they walk into the kitchen. He takes a particular interest in Jaz, perhaps realizing that she's been injured, and pushes his head against her legs as she settles into the nearest chair. She pats his head in an effort to calm him, but he continues whining loudly and pacing around her.
Dalton hears the commotion and gives a sharp whistle. Patton!, he calls. Down!
It's not the first time he's thrown a command at the German Shepherd, and Jaz is certain that, like all the other times before, it will go ignored. But much to her disbelief, Patton obeys, falling quiet and curling up on the floor beside her.
Dalton looks equally surprised, then triumphant, but the victory is short-lived as the dog lets out a huff and lays his head over her feet. Jaz gives a small laugh at the deliberate act of defiance, and Patton's tail thumps contentedly in response.
Don't encourage him, Dalton mutters, taking the seat next to her.
Oh, don't be so harsh, she replies, turning to look at him. He just missed me, that's all.
Yeah. Dalton sighs, pressing a damp towel to her cheek. He wasn't the only one.
The rest of the team murmurs in agreement as they fuss over her, Preach grabbing a blanket, McG patching her up, and Amir emptying the contents of the fridge out in front of her. It all feels so normal – sitting here with them in the middle of the night, eating and talking and laughing. Was it really just a few days ago that she thought she would never see them again?
By the time they're finished – her face clean, bandages changed, belly full – the exhaustion in the air is palpable. She hasn't had a decent night's rest since before the op and she's sure the team has fared no better, but they all stay seated, making no move to leave.
She looks at them, taking in the fatigue and relief in equal parts on each of their faces. And they look back at her, closely, carefully, as if they'll lose her again the minute they turn away, as if they can't believe she's really here, as if they're afraid she might still disappear.
She knows exactly how they feel.
She shares their fears.
But sitting here with them, she is less afraid.
...
A few hours later, the exhaustion finally catches up to her. She finds herself nodding off, and McGuire is at her side in an instant, checking her pupils and her pulse before helping her out of the chair. Alright, Jazzy, he says gently. Time for bed. Doctor's orders.
The rest of the team get to their feet as well, even Patton, and she wonders if they were all just waiting for her to go to sleep first before they felt comfortable doing the same.
She barely takes a few steps before her legs give out, but thanks to a quick pivot by McGuire, she lands on the couch instead of the floor. I'll just stay here, she murmurs sleepily. It's comfy.
Patton gives a short bark of approval and jumps up next to her, settling in at her side.
Jaz, Dalton sighs in exasperation. You're not sleeping on the couch.
Oh yeah?, she asks, a challenge in her tone as she burrows deeper into the cushions. Watch me.
Preach hands her the blanket and laughs, patting Dalton on the back. I've had this argument with my wife before, he says. Trust me, Adam, you're not gonna win this one.
Dalton turns to Amir, who just shakes his head, and then he looks at McGuire, who glances at Jaz, who shoots the medic a look that promises he'll be in for a world of pain once she's back on her feet.
You know what, Top, McG clears his throat. One night on the couch wouldn't kill her.
Jaz smiles triumphantly and shifts her body on the cushions, making herself comfortable. It's warm and soft and she closes her eyes momentarily, sighing in satisfaction. When she opens them again, four faces stare back at her intently, and she would laugh if they didn't all look so serious.
Perhaps they are remembering the last time they found her like that – eyes closed, bruised, bloody, and incoherent – and she suddenly feels the weight of everything they have endured.
Thank you, she says solemnly, for coming back for me.
Dalton leans down and pulls the blanket over her shoulders. Leaving you behind was never an option.
She nods and closes her eyes then.
She doesn't open them again that night.
...
Jaz wakes slowly in the morning.
She can't remember the last time she slept so well, and she stretches lazily, savoring the feeling. It's quiet and bright, and for a moment, she forgets where she is, but then a cold, wet snout peeks out from under the blanket and presses itself urgently against her hand.
Patton, a voice calls softly from somewhere nearby. Let her sleep. The dog immediately disappears back under the blanket.
Jaz lifts her head slightly and rubs her eyes. Top? She blinks blearily as her CO comes into focus. He's sprawled out in the armchair across from her with a blanket of his own, yawning as he runs a hand over his face.
What time is it?, she asks.
He doesn't even bother looking at his watch. Early, he guesses. Go back to sleep.
Top, she says again, frowning at him. Why are you whispering?
He looks momentarily annoyed at her continued questioning before gesturing down, and when she glances over, she sees the rest of the guys on the floor. Preach and Amir are both straight as a board, their hands folded neatly across their torsos, while McG looks like he got run over by a truck, his pillow at his feet and limbs askew. They are all sleeping soundly, and from the looks of it, they won't be waking anytime soon.
She watches them thoughtfully for a moment before turning back to Dalton. You guys really didn't have to do this, she murmurs.
We didn't want you to be alone, he replies, holding her gaze before slowly closing his eyes. Go back to sleep, Jaz, he repeats softly. That's an order.
She looks around one last time before obliging, a small smile lingering on her lips as she drifts off again.
It's no wonder that she slept so a German Shepherd at her side and her team spread out around her, there's nothing in this world that would dare touch her.
Not even in her dreams.