Merry Belated Christmas. This story was suggested by Chyron Girl back in November. I was really hoping to have it up by Christmas, but things got holiday crazy here and I just finished it today. I hope you enjoy a little post-Christmas Bravo Family Fun.
This is part of my What Happens on Bravo universe. It's set early in the universe, shortly after Clay joins Bravo at sixteen. It's not necessary to read the universe to understand the story, but if you check out the first story What Happens on Bravo Sixteen, this will make more sense.
Happy New Year, and please let me know what you think about this story and the What Happens on Bravo universe. -Luna :)
Night Dark and Scary
The first thing Clay felt when he opened his eyes was the biting cold. And he was surrounded by darkness.
The bitter wind was tearing through his thin t-shirt causing his body to stiffen and turn in on itself. His arms were inside his shirt, pulled tight against his chest desperately seeking warmth, and when he looked down to determine the cause of the burning pain in his feet, Clay suddenly realized they were bare. It was frigid and dark, he was standing outside in a place he did not recognize, and he was wearing nothing but a pair of plaid sleep pants and the t-shirt which he vaguely remembered grabbing from a basket of recently washed laundry sitting on top of Jason's bed.
Jason, he thought, wildly looking around for his trusted source of protection and safety. Where is Jason? And where am I?
Despite his racing heart and rising panic, Clay's many hours of military training took over his confused thinking. The frightened, shivering boy consciously forced himself to immediately slow his breathing and assess the current situation. He looked around in the dark, scary night trying to clear his head and figure out where exactly he was, and why he was completely alone.
Clay hated to be alone.
Bravo obviously was aware of that fact. Since he had been unceremoniously abandoned on their collective family doorstep by the Navy and his absent biological father, Clay had repeatedly told them all with both his words and his unruly, frustrating behaviors. There was nothing that terrified the sixteen-year-old operator more than being left alone.
'The sperm donor' is what Sonny called Ash Spenser, his voice filled with barely contained fury at the former SEAL who had abandoned his only child, now Bravo's adopted baby, first to aging grandparents and then to a foster care system where he was repeatedly neglected and abused.
That's what the very adult tier-one operators all called him. 'Bravo's Baby.'
Over the past few months, Clay was very slowly and hesitantly allowing himself to consider the unlikely possibility that it was true he was loved and wanted. Jason's boy. His real kid, just like Emma and Mikey. Taken in as their own. Protected and cared for by Trent and Sonny and Ray, his grouchy old, much loved uncles. Watched out for and allowed to tag along behind his always patient big brother Brock who indulged, tolerated and coddled their underage rookie - regularly saving his impulsive, naughty little tail from being worn out by the senior men who were more than old enough to be fathers to both the dog handler and his new little brother.
So if all that was really true, if Bravo was his family, if they loved him like their own kid, then where were they?
Clay was desperately questioning himself as he looked around, trying to calm down and work the current situation. Where are they? Where am I? Why am I all alone? Why is it so cold here? Why am I not dressed? And why am I hurting all over?
I need to find my family.
I want Jason to fix everything, put his arm around my ice-cold body and take me home.
I want Trent to hold me in his strong, gentle arms and rock me until I can sleep nightmare free.
I want Sonny to stay close, promising that I'm safe and shielding me from all the scary things lurking outside the door.
I want Ray to be the calm, patient voice of assurance that everything is okay.
I want Brock to be by my side, leading me in the right direction, steering me away from trouble, and teasing me out of my pout when I find myself scolded or punished for my bad behavior.
The first thing Clay noticed after the freezing cold wind and the pain shooting through his feet and legs, was the lights. They were bright and sparkling in the cold, dark night making it suddenly less scary.
Christmas lights, he said to himself, looking all around.
Clay immediately recognized that he was in a neighborhood. It was unfamiliar, but no longer terrifying. Families lived here. There was a blow up snowman swaying in the yard across the street, and Santa in a wooden sleigh on the porch of the house beside the driveway where he was currently shivering in his pajamas. He was still alone and close to a full meltdown, but Clay was relieved to realize that he was most likely home in Virginia Beach and not lost and alone in some frozen woods on the other side of the world.
They'll come for me, the frightened, confused boy tried to reassure himself. They promised that I would never be alone again. And they would always come for me.
But, I don't have my phone, Clay thought looking down at his sleep pants. And I don't know where I am. And it's so cold and dark. How will they find me? Are they even looking for me?
And how did I get here?
Corey woke from a sound sleep in the bottom bunk of the stacked beds in his silent bedroom. Brock's young brother-in-law immediately sensed something was off when he woke suddenly, his bladder demanding to be emptied. Begrudgingly dragging himself out of his warm bed, Corey regretted he and Clay deciding it was a good idea to down an entire two-liter bottle of Mountain Dew while they played Street Fighter 6 on his PlayStation down in the basement, long after his parents had gone off to bed.
Quickly heading out to the hallway bathroom, Corey didn't notice until he returned to his bedroom that his best friend was no longer asleep in the top bunk. He stopped suddenly on his way back to bed, immediately recognizing that what he sensed before rushing off to the bathroom was complete silence and lack of movement in his room. Clay was almost never completely still, even in his sleep. The boy his older sister Katie and her husband had adopted as their own little brother, encouraging the friendship that had grown strong between the two younger boys, was a constant squirmer who regularly mumbled and whined in his sleep.
Turning on the overhead light, Corey immediately looked around the room half expecting Clay to jump out of the closet trying to scare the hell out of him. Corey and Clay had become tight over the past few months since Clay had been 'dumped' on Team Bravo, as he described it to his new loyal best friend, by a biological father he barely knew.
Clay had been in survival mode - lying about his age, doing the dangerous job of sniper and translator, living alone in a dorm on a huge Naval base. That was until his new boss and medic forced the truth out of the frightened and panicking barely sixteen-year-old child. Clay had quickly wormed his way into the hearts of the battle hardened grown men who almost immediately took him in and made him their own kid - Bravo's baby and the unofficially adopted son of the legendary Jason Hayes, well-respected, ass-kicking master chief and Bravo's longtime leader. Clay finally had the family he had fantasized would someday rescue him when he was abandoned and repeatedly abused in the local foster care system.
Corey didn't panic immediately. He had grown to know his friend well. Clay gradually had become comfortable enough to spend the night at Corey's house with Katie's little brother, the son of a retired Army colonel who was trusted by Jason as an acceptable temporary guardian. Despite his recent willingness to stay with Corey and his parents, Clay never felt truly safe away from the adult teammates who had become his trusted family. Corey understood that Clay was anxious at night and not a settled sleeper. He thought that his friend might have woken suddenly and wandered downstairs to the basement to watch TV or calm himself with a book or some Playstation.
Hesitant to wake his parents and embarrass Clay if he was just having a hard night, Corey went quietly downstairs, careful not to alert his father, The Colonel, who would be less than thrilled to be woken from a deep sleep by him and Clay running around the house at 3 a.m. When he searched the entire downstairs and basement, Corey started to worry, but he really panicked when he walked into the formal front hall which they almost never used and discovered the door was wide open. The Colonel had installed a storm screen door which was still closed and prevented the cold, winter air from entering which would have likely tipped him off earlier that there was a problem.
Running back up to the bedroom to confirm that Clay was not screwing around and trying to scare him, Corey stopped dead in the doorway when he noticed that Clay's phone was still plugged in the charger on his desk, and his sneakers and coat were thrown in a corner next to the backpack he'd brought with him when Brock and Katie had come for dinner and to deliver Clay for the night. At this point Corey lost it, grabbing his own phone to call Brock and let him know that there was a big problem and he needed to get back over to the house right away.
Brock was immediately awake at the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand by his bed. The young operator groaned, glancing at the clock which read 3:17 and reached out to grab his phone expecting to hear Ray's always steady voice calling to announce another spin-up.
"Reynolds," Brock said, rubbing his eyes.
"Brock. It's me," Corey said, fully entering panic mode now that he had an adult on the phone. " I can't find Clay and I don't know what to do."
Hearing the panic in the voice of Katie's usually quiet little brother, Brock got out of bed quickly, dressing and simultaneously attempting to figure out what was happening while calming the kid he had grown to love and consider his own little brother.
"Calm down, Corey. What's going on?" Brock said, shaking Katie to wake her. "What do you mean you can't find Clay? Where are you?"
"What the hell, Brock?" Katie grouched, turning to face her husband. "What time is it? Are you leaving?"
"Corey's on the phone," Brock said, turning to his confused wife. "I don't know what's going on. He's upset.
Putting the phone on speaker so they both could talk to the kid at the same time, Brock continued talking to the kid while pulling on his boots.
"Katie's here with me, Corey," he said calmly. "Take a breath and tell us what is happening. Where are you?"
"I'm at home," Corey said quickly. He was outside his parents' bedroom door trying to decide if he should wake them up or let Brock handle this. "I woke up and Clay is not in his bed. I looked all over but I couldn't find him. I thought he was screwing around, but when I went downstairs the front door we never use is open. And it's really cold outside."
"Okay, Corey," Katie said, throwing a sweatshirt on with her sleep pants. "Calm down and think. Are Mom and Daddy awake? Are you sure Clay didn't wake up with a bad dream and call Jason or Trent to come get him? Is it possible he got picked up and you slept through it?"
"I thought that too," Corey was trying to hold back tears. "But all his stuff is still in my room. His phone and bag. His shoes and coat are here - the phone is on the charger where he plugged it when we went to bed. And the door is wide open. I think something bad maybe happened. What if his crazy father came and did something to him."
"Hey, hey," Brock said. "Let's dial it back and not get crazy. Clay has nothing to do with his father anymore. The guy is an ass, but no way he kidnapped Clay. He dumped him on Jason and Bravo, no one forced him to abandon the kid. But it's definitely possible Clay had some kind of nightmare and wandered out of the house, so we need to work this situation and find him."
"Corey, honey," Katie said, grabbing her phone and following her husband out to his truck. "We're on our way. Brock is going to call Jason right now. I need you to wake up Daddy and put him on the phone. I'll talk to him. You go get dressed and go look around outside the house. Check the backyard, but don't take off anywhere until we get there."
"Okay," Corey said. "Hurry. It's really cold and he wasn't even wearing socks when we went to bed. What if he passes out or gets hit by a car."
"Relax, Corey," Brock said, looking at Katie and shaking his head. "Help is on the way. We are going to find him. Trent will make sure he's okay. You just do what your sister said and go look around. He might be close to your house. And Corey, if you find him and he acts confused like he doesn't know you or gets upset. Don't try to force him back in the house. Just stay with him and someone will be there soon. I'm going to call Jason and Trent right now."
When Clay opened his eyes just before noon the following day, realizing he was in an unfamiliar bed and recognizing the distinctive odor of a medical facility, his heart began to race. Panicking when he was unable to push himself up and out of the bed, his movement hindered by heavy blankets and the IV needle taped to his wrist, Bravo's youngest attempted to rip out the annoying IV and escape his warm cocoon, just as monitors began beeping and Trent, who Clay hadn't noticed was across the room talking to a nurse, turned and immediately moved toward his bed.
"Woah, woah, woah, there Houdini," Trent said calmly, reaching out to make physical contact and calm his panicking kid. The unflappable medic wrapped one strong hand loosely around Clay's forearm to stop him from completely tearing up his wrist which was already bleeding with the needle pulled nearly out. He moved his other hand to rest against his boy's chest, gently but firmly forcing him to lay back against the bed.
"You're okay, baby," Trent spoke gently, keeping eye contact. "I'm right here with you, and you're safe. I need you to lay still for a minute. Take a deep breath and see if you can hold it for 10 seconds. I'm gonna count with you."
After a few rounds of counting and breathing, Clay finally settled, holding tight to the end of Trent's shirt with his free hand while the nurse cleaned the mess he had made on his other arm and reinserted the IV. She was young and perky, and her tell-tale pink scrubs covered with bunnies confirmed Clay's suspicion that he was back on the pediatric ward. He had spent a few days in a similar room not long ago when he'd worked up an anxiety-fueled case of severe constipation while Bravo was away on a mission in Liberia without him.
"Why am I here, Trent?" Clay asked nervously, eyeing the nurse's tray for needles or the dreaded 'turn over and count to one hundred' thermometer the staff on the kiddie ward used on him during his last stay. "Can we go home soon?"
Reading his kid like a book as always, Trent broke out the calm but firm 'I mean business' voice. "You Nosey, are going to mind your business and behave so the nurse can do what she needs to do and move on to her next patient," he said. "Then you and I are going to relax together and talk about how we ended up here together on this frosty Sunday morning. Understood?"
"Yes, sir," Clay said, quietly. "Where's Jason?"
"He'll be back shortly," Trent promised, helping Clay turn on his side and gently rubbing his head while the nurse quickly got his temp with minimal upset. "He has some business to handle. He's going to bring us back some lunch."
"You're moving in the right direction, sweetie," The nurse smiled at him. "How about I bring you a drink?"
"Can I have a slushie?" Clay asked, giving the nurse his best sad-grumpy face pout to let her know he was not over the indignity of having his temperature taken like a little kid. "When I was here before there were blue slushies."
Unfazed by the pouting and clear attempt at manipulation, the nurse smiled at Trent who was rolling his eyes and shaking his head at his kid.
"Well, sweetie," she said, sympathetically. "The bad news is that slushies aren't on the menu until we get you warmed up just a little more. But the good news is that I can offer you some well reviewed hot chocolate with marshmallows or whipped cream. It's very popular, and just because I like you, I'm going to offer both the marshmallows and whipped cream in addition to chocolate chips on top. What do you think about that?"
Before he had a chance to answer, Trent squeezed his arm forcing eye contact and giving his kid the patented Uncle Trent 'don't even think about being a pain in the ass and giving this nurse who is clearly trying to make you happy a hard time' stare.
"Yes, ma'am," Clay said politely, taking the hint and not rocking the boat when he didn't even know what was happening or why he was in a hospital. "I really like hot chocolate. Thanks."
"No problem," she said, packing up her cart. "I'll have your hot chocolate delivered soon."
Addressing Trent, she added, "He's up to 96, so we're heading in the right direction. I'll be back in about two hours to check his vitals. The doctor will be stopping by this afternoon to redress his leg and examine him. If you need anything, just hit the call button or stop by the nurses station."
"Thanks," Trent said, smiling at the nurse while continuing to gently rub Clay's arm to keep his anxious kid still and relatively calm. "I appreciate you being so good with Trouble here."
"This cutie trouble?" she chuckled, pushing her cart toward the door. "I don't believe it."
Once they were alone, Clay turned to face his most trusted caregiver, not releasing his tight grip on Trent's shirt.
"What's going on, Trent?" he asked, voice wavering. "Why am I here? And why isn't Jason here with me? I don't believe he left me to take care of 'business'. Is he okay, Trent? Did something bad happen?"
Trent could clearly see their baby was getting himself worked up and heading toward meltdown mode which he most definitely intended to immediately shut down. Clay's monitor showed his heart rate was elevated, and the kid's most loved adopted uncle knew the waterworks would be next if he didn't get him immediately sorted and settled.
"Hey there, Shorty," Trent said, calm and gentle as always. "Let's calm ourselves down and relax. Nothing bad happened to Jason or anyone else. You, honey, are the one your grumpy old Uncle Trent is worried about right now. But we are going to chill out here together. Talk calmly. Maybe watch some TV, and catch a little nap before the big boss-daddy arrives."
The medic stood up, moving carefully so that Clay could continue to hold his shirt. He motioned for the kid to scoot over as he took a seat at the top of the bed, resting back against the headboard, stretching out his legs and allowing the kid he loved so much to burrow into his side and rest his head on the older man's chest.
"I'm scared, Trent," Clay whispered, holding tight to the trusted and loved adult on the scene. "I don't know what's going on. Why am I in the hospital?"
"I know you're scared, baby," Trent said, holding him in his strong arms. "But everything is fine. I need you to settle down and we are going to talk about what happened last night."
"Last night?" Clay asked, confused. "Before you said it was Sunday?"
"Yep, Squirt," Trent said, gently rubbing his shivering back and pulling up the warm blanket. "It's Sunday morning, almost noon now."
"What happened last night?" Clay asked again, calming down now that he was safe in his most trusted caregiver's arms. "Why is it cold in here?"
"What's the last thing you remember?" Trent asked. "Do you remember being at Corey's house?"
"Oh yeah," Clay said, surprising himself. "I spent the night at Corey's house. Brock and Katie dropped me off. Me and Corey were doing PlayStation in his basement."
"Do you remember going to bed?" Trent asked, still calm and gentle.
"It was really late," Clay said, slowly as if it was foggy in his head. "We were kind of wired because we had ordered pizza earlier, and we drank a whole two liter of Mountain Dew."
"Always a good decision to binge drink a week's worth of caffeine in the middle of the night," Trent said sarcastically, shaking his head. "I assume this wasn't Colonel approved midnight snacking."
"Corey's mom and The Colonel go to bed super early," Clay explained, oblivious to Trent's sarcasm, as if he was still trying to remember exactly what happened.
"Okay," Trent said softly, resting his chin on the confused kid's head and continuing to hold him close. "Then what did you boys do?"
"Um," Clay hesitated. "I think we went upstairs. I remember Corey warning me to be quiet because he didn't want to wake up The Colonel."
Clay paused, looking up at the older man before continuing quietly. "Corey's scared of his dad. Did you know that, Trent?"
"I know The Colonel is no bundle of laughs," Trent said. "But I also know that he loves his kids. Some dads are just not comfortable showing affection. My step-dad was that way too. He was strict, and I surely didn't want to make him angry, but I understood as I got older that he did the best he could, and he loved the whole wild bunch of us."
"So you went up to bed," Trent continued, trying to get a handle on exactly what had happened before Brock's panicked call the night before telling him that their rookie and unofficially adopted kid had likely wandered out from Katie's parents' house in the middle of the night into the unusually cold mid-December night.
It wasn't common for the nighttime temperature in Virginia Beach to drop below thirty, but as luck would have it, they were experiencing a cold snap which had brought the previous night's temperature down to twenty-six degrees with bitter winds blowing and rare light snow. Clay was well-trained for dealing with all kinds of mission related situations in below freezing temperatures, but waking up confused and afraid from what Trent assumed was a nightmare to find himself barefoot in pajamas wandering in an unfamiliar neighborhood at home where he thought he was safe was not part of SEAL training for underage rookies.
And as usual, both Trent and Jason were kicking themselves for not anticipating that this was a possibility and warning The Colonel who was in a very uncharacteristically frazzled state when Bravo gathered at his house at 4:00 a.m. ready to track down their baby.
"Jason," The Colonel had said, meeting Bravos One and Two who arrived together in Jason's truck. "I am so sorry about this. Clay was wandering around confused, and I didn't know what the hell was happening in my own house. And somehow he got the deadbolt unlocked on a door that is just down the stairs from our bedroom… There's no excuse. I take full responsibility for this."
"This isn't on you, Colonel," Jason said, making eye contact with his 2IC. "Clay is my kid, and my responsibility. I shouldn't have left him here overnight without letting you and your wife know that he's prone to nightmares and waking up confused."
"Okay," Ray said, intervening. "Mistakes were made that we won't let happen again. But right now we need to take a breath and work this situation like every man here has been trained to do. What do we know, Colonel?"
Trent arrived with Sonny, just as The Colonel was briefing them on what he knew.
"When Margot and I went up to bed, all the doors were locked. I checked them myself," The Colonel started. "Corey and Clay were down in the basement playing those damn video games and waiting for pizza delivery. I was in the shower, but my wife says she heard the delivery guy at the front door which we rarely use. She said that both boys were talking to him, and she heard the door close and the delivery car drive away. Corey is usually pretty responsible about locking doors, but it's possible that he didn't bolt the door if he and Clay were fooling around, which I think we all know is likely."
"I think the boys fooling around is a given," Jason said. "Do you have any idea what time they made it upstairs? According to what I got from Brock when he called, Corey told him that they were both sleeping up in his room. Brock said that Corey woke to use the bathroom, and when he came back to the bedroom, he realized Clay wasn't in his bed."
"It was several hours after Margot and I went to bed," The Colonel said. "We went up around ten and watched the news in our room before we went to sleep. I heard them coming up the stairs and laughing, going back and forth from Corey's room to the bathroom for a few minutes around 1:40 according to the clock in our room. Once they were quiet, I went back to sleep. I damn well should have gotten up and checked to make sure they were actually in bed and the house was secure."
"Don't beat yourself up about this, Colonel," Trent said, calm as always. "You had no way of knowing Clay would wake and leave the house. I know his issues and behaviors as well as anyone, and I did not see this coming. He's not a sound sleeper and he often wakes confused and upset, but he's never been out of it enough to leave Jason's apartment or any of our houses in the middle of the night. In the past when he's had a nightmare and doesn't wake fully, he will generally try to hide or take cover somewhere inside the house. He's never tried to go outside."
"Now we know, Colonel," Sonny added deadly serious. "And you can believe that we are going to find our boy, get him sorted, make a plan, and this is never going to happen again. So what do we know about how long he's been gone, because it's as cold as a witch's tit out here tonight, and we need to find the baby before his skinny little ass is frozen solid."
"Brock and Corey are out looking for him now," The Colonel said. "Katie is inside making coffee and trying to calm her mother down. Corey said they were both in bed by 2:00 and he wasn't sure what time he woke up. He was a nervous wreck worrying that Clay left the house in sleep pants and a t-shirt with apparently no shoes or socks. He got his mother worked up before Brock and Katie arrived, and Brock took him off to search."
"Brock called me just before 3:30," Jason said. "He had just gotten off the phone with Corey."
"So assuming Corey called as soon as he realized the runt was missing," Ray said. "We're saying Clay left the house sometime between maybe 2:30 and 3:15?"
"I'm guessing it had to be at least 3:00, Boss," Trent said, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the surrounding houses. If they didn't go to sleep until around 2:00, and we're assuming he woke up from a nightmare, the boys would have to have been sleeping at least forty-five minutes to be out enough for Clay to have a nightmare and Corey to not hear him leaving the room."
"And Colonel," Trent continued, addressing him directly. "I know Brock said that Corey searched the house. But do you mind if I go through again? I know Clay's usual hiding spots. If he never left the house and he's not fully awake, he's likely confused and hiding."
"Trent's right about that, Colonel," Jason agreed. "Our boy is an expert hider, and sometimes he'll only come out for Trent. I've had to call this one more than once at zero dark thirty to wrangle the kid. It's possible that Corey panicked when he saw the open door and didn't realize he and Clay might not have secured it completely when they had pizza and PlayStation on their agenda."
"Absolutely, Trent," The Colonel said. "I'll show you around. Nothing would make me happier than to realize we all came out in the cold unnecessarily, and Clay has been inside the whole time."
"Copy that, Colonel," Jason agreed. "If you and Trent search the house, the rest of us will split up and start searching the neighborhood. Hopefully if Clay is outside, the cold has woken him by now and he's either headed back this way or trying to find help."
"I'll touch base after we've checked inside and head out to search in my truck if we don't have any luck in the house," Trent said, quickly following the older man toward the house.
"This is a gated community, Jason," Ray said. "They likely have private security. I'm going to go talk to Katie and her mother and find out who we can touch base with to see if anyone has reported a kid wandering around or anything else suspicious tonight."
"Okay," Jason said, anxious to start searching. "I'm going to call and check in with Brock. I told him not to involve the police when he first called me, because we know they are going to waste time questioning if he's a runaway or if there might be drugs involved when we all know that's not what this is. But if we can't find him within the next thirty minutes, we need to call the cops before the neighbors spot strangers walking around their yards and driveways, call 911 themselves, and we have a full shit-show on our hands."
"Copy that, Boss," Ray said. "I'll let you know what I get from security. Keep me posted. We're going to find him."
"We are most definitely going to find him," Sonny said. "Brock and Corey have already searched up and down this street. He texted they're on the next street going west. I'm going to drive to the next street east of here, park and search the front and backyards."
"I'll drive west, touch base with Brock and move to the next street over," Jason said, heading toward his truck. "Let's find our boy."