Eighteen Years Ago

'You got a bright future ahead of you Halstead. You think about where you want to go and then once you decide you let me know. I'll make it happen.'

To date it was the nicest compliment he'd ever received.

He was pretty sure it always would be.

Even twelve weeks later it still made his chest tighten and his throat close up when he thought about it, and yeah part of that was because he wasn't the kind of person who got a lot of them. All his teachers in high school had breathed sighs of relief once he was out of their classes, and ones of frustration if they ever had to teach him for a different subject. He'd also annoyed all the nuns and priests, pretty much everyone except Father McCloskey and with his numerous fights he'd driven the older man to exasperation more than once; if it weren't for his good will he probably would've been kicked off the church scholarship that allowed him to attend the fancy school. And while his mother was always singing his virtues, so much it was hard to take her seriously, he sure as shit didn't any get praise or compliments from his dad. Sometimes he thought he could see pride in his eyes but more often than not he figured it was wishful thinking, because more often than not his dad was either rolling them in derision or lowering them in disappointment.

Sometimes Jay wondered whether his father even loved him but he'd long ago accepted that it didn't matter.

He didn't need him.

He'd gotten himself through school, by the skin of his teeth sometimes but he'd done it. And he'd gotten himself through basic training and here… Here there were people who saw him. Who understood his dedication to his country and the ideals it represented, his desire to fight for it, at home and abroad, in places that didn't have people to fight for them.

This We'll Defend.

That was what he'd sworn and it was the easiest oath he'd ever made. The most important. And now he was about to swear another. 'You got a bright future ahead of you Halstead. You think about where you want to go and then once you decide you let me know. I'll make it happen.' He still couldn't believe Fitzgerald had offered that, he'd been the toughest Sergeant on base by far but at some point in those ten weeks he'd earned the man's respect. And he didn't think it was the physical training that had done it. To tell the truth that had been the easy part, he'd been actively preparing to join the military since he was fourteen so the running and the push ups and the pull ups, they were easy and once he had the hand-to-hand and weapons training down they too had become second nature. It was learning the core values of the army where he'd won his superiors respect, showing them with his actions that loyalty, duty, respect, honor, integrity, courage and selfless service were not just words to him. They were the ideals he'd sworn to live by long before he'd put on the uniform. And thanks to Fitzgerald Jay had had the choice of just which uniform he wanted.

It hadn't been an easy one; he'd done his research years ago and had quickly decided he was torn between the Marines and the SEALS, but to actually choose… He'd done the only thing he'd thought would answer it for him. He'd looked at their words. The Marine creed had pulled him in right off the bat with 'This is my rifle', the acknowledgement that while important it was still just a tool and it was the man who bore it that mattered. But the end, much as he loved his country 'until victory is America's' had turned him off. So he'd looked at the SEALS. Being a special breed of warrior, a common citizen with an uncommon desire to succeed, forged by adversity, defending those who could not defend themselves, the importance of self-control, they all called to him. Particularly his word being his bond and never being out of the fight but as much as he wanted to be in it…

He wanted to come home too.

He wanted a home, a family, a life outside the military.

And it wasn't impossible for SEALS to have that but he'd asked around and the divorce rate was high and that just… It wasn't what he'd wanted. So Jay had kept looking, until he found a creed that fit all of him. One that demanded he fight on all battlefields, land, sea and air, that he move further, faster and fight harder than any other soldier, that pushed him to be mentally alert, physically strong and morally straight. Gallant. A creed that understood he was not afraid of his enemies, that he was not a man who would surrender or fail his comrades, though war was such that he knew sometimes it would be inevitable that he would. Though he be the lone survivor.

A Ranger.

Even after making his choice he'd been afraid it would be made for him, that as well-meaning as he'd been Fitzgerald might change his mind, or might not have the pull he'd suggested. Or that whoever he spoke to would think that he may not be the soldier the Sergeant thought he was. But now three months after his graduation he'd been sent word that Fort Benning was ready to host the next batch of would-be Rangers. And he'd be part of it. He was. He'd hugged his mother goodbye yesterday, sharing a terse nod with his dad after she'd elbowed him, both of them, and then he'd gotten on the plane, the surety in his gut even stronger than it'd been when he'd finally been old enough to enlist. This was just the start of his path and he looked forward to seeing how the rest of it would be forged.

Didn't mean he wasn't nervous, he was especially not looking forward to the Swamp Phase of training, it didn't happen often but that was where most of the accidental deaths had occurred, but the rest of it… People said Ranger School was the most physically and mentally demanding course in the Army and he was sure he was going to get his ass kicked, daily, but he was excited about that. The premise stayed the same, the roughly three hundred and fifty soldiers chosen would be responsible stopping a fictional, but by no means less grueling, drug and terrorist operation; they'd learn patrolling and perform recon, ambushes and raids against their fellow recruits. And best of all, to his mind, while they would be given a mission statement it was on them to decide how to execute it. To figure out not just the kind of men they were but the kind of soldiers, who was suited to lead and who was not. That bit worried him, being responsible for people's lives seemed a heavy burden but Jay trusted that he could handle it. And as for his fellow recruits…

Men were men. He knew who he was and he had no problem standing his ground. And if any of them didn't like it they could kiss his ass.

"You claiming that one?"

He looked over his shoulder at the guy standing beside the bunk opposite his, a little scrawny but he didn't let that fool him; he wouldn't be here if he didn't deserve to be and his light blue eyes looked sharp. "Yeah. You taking that one?"

He nodded and set his duffle bag down, both looking a little worried about who might choose the bunks atop theirs. Hopefully not anyone with digestive issues. But when the other guy made a similarly displeased face when a group of soldiers down the hall started loudly, and crudely, discussing their past 'conquests', Jay knew he was going to like him.

"I'm Halstead."

"Gerwitz." He said with another nod, giving him a crooked grin as they shook hands. "Greg."

"Jay."

They shared another smile and Jay got the feeling it was the start of a great friendship.