Author's Note: And so it ends…Thank you all so much for reading, and thank you for your kind words and reviews. You are wonderful humans, and I really enjoyed writing for all of you. :)

CHAPTER 6

Jaz wiped the sweat off her forehead, slinging the small towel over her shoulder. It was hot outside, but it had been days since her last run, and she felt like today was as good a chance as any.

Adam had been on base for a few days now, and he couldn't hobble anywhere without somebody hovering over his every move. It was clear how much he hated it. Most of the time, he'd slip away without them knowing, finding some place to be alone until someone tracked him down. It felt like he was avoiding them. Still, they couldn't leave him alone. Honestly, Jaz wouldn't have left if Adam wasn't taking an afternoon nap.

Since he was a sound sleeper, she thought she could go out and get in before he even noticed. Everyone else was out running errands. Really, they all needed to get out for a bit. They were starting to get stir crazy—even Adam.

She approached the front entrance of their building, smoothing wisps of hair out of her face. Adam probably wasn't even awake yet. She'd ran only a few miles.

Careful not to disturb Top, she noiselessly slipped inside their home away from home, stepping silently into the main room. She stopped, frowning when she saw a familiar head of dark blond at the kitchen table. His back was to her with a laptop in front of him, and he looked to be struggling to type with one hand.

Glancing around the area, it became clear that no one else was around, and she wandered soundlessly into the kitchen. Adam let out a heavy sigh, pausing his typing to rest his arm on the table. Ever since he got out of the hospital, he'd been refusing painkillers most of the time, only giving in when the pain was overwhelming. And his only free hand was paired with the three long lacerations from bicep to wrist, making any movement uncomfortable.

Shifting lightly, she peered over his shoulder, seeing the two meager lines of text on the screen.

And her heart sank.

He was writing his report for the mission. The parts when he'd been without an earpiece and camera.

Jaz took a step back, her presence still unnoticed. She watched him for a handful of seconds, taking in the slouch of his shoulders and the pained tension in his one free hand.

And then it hit her. He'd deliberately waited until no one was around to start his report. So they couldn't see. So he could be alone.

That was a hard truth to swallow.

"What're up to, Top?"

He jumped at her voice, turning to look at her. "Dammit, Jaz. Give a guy some warning next time." She could see he was trying to click to a different window, to hide the report.

Jaz pulled out a chair around the corner of the table, dropping into the seat with a pretended casualness. "It's not my fault you let your guard down."

She tried not to stare at the bruise on his face, but it was hard to look away. Part of her wondered if this was what it was like for everyone after her rescue. It explained why they always stared at the fat cut on her lip during those recovering weeks.

"Where did you come from anyway?" he asked, turning the laptop away.

"I just went for a run," she answered. A small smile graced her lips, and she leaned on the table.

Adam shifted, grimacing. "Well, quit sneaking up on me like that."

"Hm," Jaz hummed, eyeing the laptop. "You need help? Looked like you were having some trouble."

"No, I've got it," Adam replied quickly, putting on his best proud scowl.

Jaz stared at him for a while, holding his gaze for at least a whole minute. It was completely quiet, and neither was willing to give up on the impromptu staring contest. Finally, Jaz spoke, breaking the tension. "Top, you only have one good hand, and it has pretty limited mobility."

"I'm good, Jaz. Really, I'm good," he pressed, eager to get her away from what he was doing.

She looked at him again, silent. For a moment, she questioned saying anything at all. She could pretend she hadn't seen the unfinished report. But she had seen it. And really, he shouldn't have to carry his burdens alone. So she wouldn't keep quiet. She just couldn't.

"I know you're writing your report. About what happened in there."

He gaped at her, the seconds ticking by with an anxious hush.

"Jaz, I don't—"

"Let me help."

He looked at her. They stayed still for a moment, Adam frozen while Jaz fearlessly regarded him. After several long seconds, he shook his head, eyes on the floor. "No, Jaz. I don't think—"

"Top, let me help," she demanded, adamant. "At this rate, it's going to take you days to finish it."

"It will not," he countered heatedly. "It's fine. I can do it myself."

"Barely."

They continued to stare, his anger meeting her patient calm. Adam took a deep breath. "Well, where's Preach?"

Jaz felt oddly betrayed by the question. She knew she shouldn't. Preach had known Adam the longest, and he was a pro at coping with the most difficult information. Information like the details of a torture.

"Everyone else went into town to pick up some things," she replied. "It's just me."

He averted his gaze, huffing softly.

"Come on, Top. Let me help you out," she urged.

A few moments of silence ticked by, anxious and pressing.

His eyes met hers, something sad and frightened in the blue. "I don't want you to have to hear about it."

Jaz sighed, her frustration bubbling in her chest. If she had to pick something she hated about Adam, it was this. His insatiable need to keep the team from pain and hurt, no matter what it did to himself.

And dammit, the man could hardly type right now.

"I get it. I do," she breathed, her eyes boring into his. He maintained that hard, strong stare. It wouldn't scare her away. "But you're always there for us when we need it. Let me return the favor for once."

She thought back to when she'd had to write a similar report. Most of the team wasn't around, but Adam was. And he didn't push the truth out of her. He didn't have to. He didn't hold her hand or give her a comforting pep talk. He just sat across the room while she typed, cleaning his gun casually. It was his way of offering her the only support she wanted. The silent encouragement hidden behind a daily routine.

Because Adam always seemed to know what they needed.

She knew that, as her C.O., Adam had to read her report. But he never said anything about it and continued to provide that quiet, covert support.

And for that, she'd forever be grateful.

"Let me help you," she insisted.

He watched her for another minute, wrestling the idea, and then he dropped his head with a sigh. "Fine," he croaked, reluctantly sliding the laptop to her.

Smirking at her victory, she pulled up the report, reading over the couple of measly lines. Her smirk faded into a somber expression, the dull darkness of the situation sinking in. She knew this was going to be difficult, but she was determined to offer her support.

She could do this for Adam.

"Okay, so they caught you at the door," she summarized, trying to smother the discomfort in her tone. "What next?" She looked up at him, watching him as he stared at the floor. He looked so tired just thinking about it. Hell, she felt tired just thinking about it.

And she'd only seen the aftermath.

It took Adam a minute to put his thoughts in order, glancing up at Jaz every now and then.

When he finally spoke, he sounded stiff. Distant. "They…they zip tied my wrists and took me to a storage area. Then one of the guards called his superior. When he came, he dismissed most of the guards and addressed me directly. He recognized me as an American and asked why I was there."

Jaz typed quickly, her heart pounding in her chest. Adam was telling it like a casual story, but she knew this was only the beginning. And just thinking about what was ahead filled her with dread.

"I didn't answer, and I took a hit to the face by a guard. The superior threatened to take further action if I didn't say anything, and I again refused to admit why I was there. When it was clear I wouldn't give him the information he wanted, I was…I was restrained to a chair with zip ties."

Adam paused. Jaz looked up, expecting to see a haunted look in his eyes.

But he was staring straight at her.

"Are you sure you want to be here for this?" His voice was soft. "You don't have to be."

Jaz steeled her expression, pursing her lips. "If I didn't want to be here, Top, I wouldn't have offered."

He kept his eyes on her, his lips parted a bit. Realizing he wasn't going to chase her away anytime soon, he nodded, looking back down at the floor as he shifted in his seat. A wince flash across his features, and he settled into a semi-comfortable position.

"I was…I was restrained, and after I refused to answer his questions, he, uh…he…" He paused again, his brows pushed downward in an inward struggle. "He used a knife on my right forearm." There were a few seconds of silence. "Stab wound. Through and through."

Jaz's typing slowed, and her eyes shifted to look at the band of gauze around his upper forearm. She quickly looked away, focusing again on the screen.

"When I refused to answer his questions, he…retrieved the knife." Jaz knew what that meant. And it made her sick. "He continued to ask the same questions, and when I didn't answer, he…he struck my hand with the handle of the same knife, breaking my hand."

Jaz blinked heavily, trying to keep her attention on the screen in front of her. Adam was doing his best to sound clinical—like he wasn't the one that went through all this. But Jaz could see it all in her mind's eye, and every detail hurt like she was actually there.

"I still refused to talk, so he ordered one of the guards to…physically convince me to confess. I took several hits to the chest…which ultimately broke three of my ribs."

Jaz took a long, deep breath, attempting to soothe the ache in her chest. She wished she couldn't see the details with such painful clarity, but she wasn't a stranger to violence, and she knew too much to feign ignorance.

"Do you need to take a break?"

She looked up, seeing Adam's eyes on hers. Of course he was worried about her. Couldn't the stubborn bastard think about himself for a second?

"I'm fine," she reassured him, faking a comfortable smile.

He frowned. "Because, really, you don't have to do this. I can have Preach do it, or I can just do it myself."

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "Really, Top. I've got this. Let's just get it done." Jaz looked at the screen, combing over what was already written. "So a subordinate broke your ribs. What next?"

He eyed her, trying to spot the cracks in her brave mask. It didn't matter; she was determined to do this for him. No matter how much it hurt to hear it.

Adam looked down at the floor again. "I still refused to answer, so the commanding officer proceeded to…" He stopped, glancing up at her. She maintained an indifferent expression, reining in her emotions.

Adam continued. "He proceeded to make three long cuts down my other arm. He moved slowly to try and get me to talk, and I still refused."

Hell, she could see it all happen. Every stubborn stare from Adam. Every effort to stay strong.

"At that point, I received another stab wound to the left leg."

Jaz's mind drifted as she typed. A stab wound, sure. With a cruel twist of the blade.

"And then my team came in, eliminated the threats, and moved me from the location."

The words sounded so empty, but she knew it was only for the report. Adam had never been an ungrateful person, yet he had always been extremely careful about showing weakness.

"I think that's about it, right?" Adam asked indifferently. He was clearly eager to move on, his arm wrapped around his aching chest.

Jaz shrugged, hiding behind a casual air. "If you say so."

"Yeah, I think that's good," he muttered, nodding more to himself than to her. She took steps to send the report, submitting it and closing the laptop.

Really, she should accept it as done and move on. But something else possessed her. Something softer. Worry, maybe.

She fought it, simmering in the awkward silence. Adam was staring down at the table, breathing carefully as he readjusted his posture.

"You know, Top," she began, her voice low. "No matter what you say or do, we want to be there for you. If you want to talk about it, we want to listen. And if you don't, we just want to know you're okay."

"I'm okay, Jaz, really."

"Top," she said sharply, stopping him in his tracks. "We know when you're holding back. It's not hard to see that you're avoiding everyone to deal with this yourself. No one can go through something like that and pretend everything is fine. It hurts. It stays with you."

She stopped, glaring at the floor. "Take it from someone who knows."

Adam looked at her, seeing the shadows in her eyes. He wished he could take it away from her. If only he could.

With a sigh, Jaz moved her gaze back to his. "But if you don't want to talk about it, then don't. Just quit trying to deal with it alone. Quit trying to avoid us."

"I'm not—"

"Bullshit. You are."

He snapped his mouth shut, seeing the heat of frustration in her face. He knew she wasn't actually upset with him, but her concern and her hurt often came out in anger.

"Quit telling yourself that you have to do this on your own. Because you shouldn't have to."

Adam knew Jaz wouldn't have said anything if she didn't feel strongly about it. She wasn't often a touchy-feely person, and heart-to-heart conversations weren't normally her preference.

So for her to say something at all…it must've been important to her.

Just by the look on her face, he could tell she was waiting for a response. Some proof that her words had sunk in.

And they had. Adam could already feel the soft pull of guilt in his mind, wondering how much worry and hurt he'd already put his team through. She was right. He had been avoiding them. Because he didn't think his pain should be their pain.

"You know, I…I don't want to talk about it," he confessed candidly. "Because I don't want you all to think about it. I don't want it to be all you see when you look at…at all this." He gestured to the cast on his hand. "And everything I went through in there…honestly, that wasn't even the hard part."

Jaz took a deep breath. Part of her told her to leave it. But she was too far in now. She couldn't just let it be. "What was the hard part?"

Silence.

A sorrowful strain in the atmosphere.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there sooner."

His voice was hollow. Remorseful.

Jaz didn't move. She couldn't. She knew exactly what he was talking about. And it wasn't his capture.

It was hers.

He was apologizing for something that wasn't entirely in his control.

And that both hurt and enraged her. Because it made no sense. It made absolutely no sense why he was blaming himself for something so ridiculous.

"You can't be serious," she muttered. He was. The somber look on his face said so. "You came for me, Top. You and the guys…you all came for me. And that's all that matters to me. That's all that matters. And it makes all of that shit worth it."

She took a good, long look at him, and it all clicked into place. After being beaten and bloodied, he didn't think about how unbearable it was for him. He thought about how unbearable it was for her.

Hell, she wanted to deck him. Clearly, he had a screw loose in there.

Instead, she just continued talking. "I would never blame you for anything that happened in Tehran. Never. What matters to me is that you got me out of there. You stayed when you should've left, and you found a way to get me out. So quit thinking about what you didn't do, and think about what you did do. Because that's all I'm thinking about."

Adam stared at her, his blue eyes troubled. She could see the cogs turning, like he was considering for a minute that he hadn't failed her like he thought. And then something shifted, and his expression changed. For the first time in days, he looked content. At peace.

Their eyes met, and a gentle gratitude swirled in his eyes. "Thanks, Jaz," he croaked. "I…I think I needed to hear that."

She smirked. "Apparently."

With a curt, humorous hum, he smiled. An imaginary weight slid from his shoulders, and through the tired strain in his face, he looked…happy.

And that's really all Jaz wanted.

There was a shuffle at the entrance of the small building, and they both turned their heads to look. Preach, McG, and Amir were filing in, chatting casually about how to identify a ripe pineapple.

The three of them looked up, stopping their conversation as McG held up a canvas bag of groceries.

"Hope you two are hungry. Amir's making dinner tonight," McG announced, grinning.

Jaz looked at Adam, waiting for his response. His eyes slid to hers, and he smiled, turning back to the others.

"Yeah, I could use a bite."

Jaz couldn't help the small upturn of her lips.

Maybe now, things could get back to normal.

FIN.