Work Text:
The mission was supposed to have been a simple one.
Bravo and Alpha were on a joint op; staking out the suspected residence of an arms dealer on the outskirts of Mumbai who was making waves in several allied countries, none of whom had the resources to stop him, and all of whom had called on the United States for assistance. If possible, they were to arrest him, interrogate him, and put an end to his crimes for good.
Simple.
In the briefing, Mandy had made mention of some new drug that the man was experimenting with, but as it had been glossed over, Jason had all but forgotten about it. If it was relevant to the mission, then surely Mandy would have gone into more depth about it – but she didn’t, so it obviously wasn’t.
When they arrived on target, they discovered the residence was a sprawling complex; one that just screamed money and security, and practically painted a large red target on the owner’s head. Oh well, the larger the target the more likely that the guy was dirty, and was exactly who they were looking for.
In one truck, Jason, Full Metal, Brock, and Clay were monitoring the back of the house. In a second vehicle that was assigned to the front were Alpha 2 Lochy Hollier, Alpha 5 Alex Lang, Trent, and Sonny. In the last truck that was a street over, ready to follow any vehicles that left without immediately raising suspicion was Ray, along with Alpha 3 Jacob Reed, Alpha 4 Richie Cane, along with his K-9 Ruby, and Alpha 6 Tom O’Neill.
It was supposed to be simple. Watch the residence, gather intel, intercept the arms dealer, raid the house, go home.
Instead, Havoc lost comms with the first vehicle, and by the time Ray was ordered to go and investigate, they discovered the vehicle was there, but empty. Then they had to mount a search for their missing SEALs and hack into whatever security cameras they could find to see if they could track them, given they hadn’t had permission to use ISR in Indian airspace, so they’d had no overwatch.
They hadn’t found any cameras that covered their area, so raided the arms dealer’s house, arrested their target, killed his men, and found the information they were after; which they then followed to a shack a few blocks away where the arms dealer’s lackies had managed to take their missing team with plans to interrogate them.
Interrogate being the operative word, because they’d failed quite spectacularly.
When the remnants of Alpha and Bravo busted through the door, they’d found Jason and Full Metal tied up and looking exasperated, but no worse for wear, while Clay and Brock, after being injected with who knew what, were high as a kite.
“So, run it by me again?” Blackburn asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he tried to ignore the shouting in the other room. “They surrounded your truck with a force four times your size, dragged you out, gagged and bound you, and drove you to a secondary location.”
Jason nodded, wincing as something clattered in the makeshift medical room Danny had set up at Blackburn’s request the moment they knew they had men missing. “Yep.”
“While there, the men injected Brock and Clay with something, intending to torture them to make you talk.” Something else clattered to the floor. Blackburn raised his voice slightly so he could be heard over the ruckus. It sounded like Trent shouting, but he wasn’t sure. “But whatever they injected didn’t work in the twenty minute timeframe it was supposed too, so they tried again.”
“And then did it a third time when that didn’t work, either,” Metal added, not even flinching when something crashed against the wall. Jason gave him a side-eyed glare. He could at least pretend to be concerned by what was happening to his teammates. “Then they went completely mental, which according to Hollier, is how you found us.”
Oh yes. Bravo’s 5 and 6 had been making so much noise that by the time the remnants of Alpha and Bravo tracked them down, Ruby hadn’t even bothered to get out of the car. Just looked in their direction, woofed once, went back to sleep.
“So they’ve been given an unknown drug three times.” He’d heard it over the radio, hoped he’d imagined it. Eric sighed heavily. “Jesus.”
“Mandy has a contact studying what was in the syringes,” Jason replied, getting to his feet when he heard Clay shriek. That wasn’t good. “She’ll find out what it is, how to reverse it.”
“And in the meantime?”
“Let it burn out of their system, according to Danny.” There was another shriek, and he gave up feigning ignorance to the chaos that was occurring in the other room. He stormed over to the door, shoved his way inside and planted his hands on his hips as he surveyed the medical-turned-disaster zone.
Ray was helping Danny and Lochy to their feet, sprawled as they were on the ground. On one side of the room, Trent and Richie were hanging onto Brock’s legs, while on the other Sonny and Alex were holding onto Clay’s. Both pairs were trying to tug their respective brother away from the other.
Brock and Clay were sprawled on their fronts, clinging to each other, and refusing to let go.
“Brother!”
“Clay!” Sonny snapped, his cap askew. “Let go!”
“No!” the blond shrieked. “Brock! Help me!”
“Brock, for God - ” Trent and Richie gave a strong tug, Brock slipped, but Clay quickly recovered his hold.
“Brother!”
Brock hissed at Trent and Richie over his shoulder. Clay hissed at them too.
“Did you seriously just hiss at me?!” Trent asked indignantly.
“Are they seriously quoting Lion King?!” Alex added, looking appalled.
“Oh my god, they totally are,” Sonny cackled, before redoubling his efforts to hold a squirming Clay when he nearly lost hold of his leg. “Stop moving, Blondini!”
“Trent?”
“What?!”
“What do you need us to do?”
Before Trent could reply, Full Metal walked up to the pair, smacked them over the head hard enough that the pair let go of each other to ward off any other attacks, and Trent, Richie, Alex, and Sonny gave a hard yank; Brock and Clay flying apart with startled shrieks.
“BROTHER!”
“DON’T LEAVE ME!”
Blackburn noted Danny was approaching, but was too busy watching with an air of suffering as Bravo’s youngest team members flailed about helplessly as they tried to get back to one another. “Any idea how long this is going to last?” he asked tiredly. Yes, they’d had a successful mission – but they were now stuck in this warehouse until the pair had recovered and he wanted to go home. Somehow he doubted his wife would be thrilled if he missed his son’s tenth birthday; knew that’d change as soon as he told her what had happened.
She had a soft spot for his SEALs, particularly two certain trouble makers who were always polite but sassy around her, which she loved, and were great with the Blackburn kids. And whenever missions went tits up, his recounting of events that involved them always had her in stitches. This would be another to add to the collection.
Danny shrugged, grinning as he watched the four able bodied SEALs pin their drugged teammates to the ground. “No idea, but I don’t think it’s going to end any time soon. They’re pretty out of it.”
“Off their faces you mean,” Tom corrected, wandering over with a bag of peanuts and watching the evolving scuffle with interest.
Jason heaved a sigh. Blackburn did the same. Oh great.
Trent placed his hands on his hips. Looked at the ceiling for answers, found none. Looked at the floor – nope, nothing there either. Looked at his best friend who was really trying his patience – wanted to thump him over the head, but knew he couldn’t as this really wasn’t his fault.
Still. He was itching to smack someone. If Sonny kept egging them on, it’d be the Texan he hit.
It had been three hours since they’d rescued their missing teammates, since Mandy had gone to some science friend to try get answers. There were no answers as of yet, and so he and Danny were forced to monitor Brock and Clay’s vitals until they had some.
They were building themselves up to try get bloods done to help Mandy out, but this was proving to be hard enough as it was, and Trent dreaded the thought of getting Clay to cooperate when he was finished with Brock. It had been a simple request of Bravo 5: sit down so your temperature and blood pressure can be taken. He’d stupidly thought at the start, how hard could it be?
“Brock.”
“Hmm?”
“You’re still standing.”
“Oh?” Brock replied, sounding spaced out as he looked around the room. “Am I?”
Trent grit his teeth, flipped a cackling Jacob, Tom, and Sonny the bird. “You’re still on your feet,” he sighed. Lord give him strength, because his patience wasn’t strong enough for this. “Ergo, you’re still standing.”
“Ah,” Brock said, nodding sagely. “Of course.” Then, without warning, the brunet dropped to his knees, his reinforced kneepads cracking loudly against the concrete floors making Trent wince, before he sprawled on his belly. “Here y’go.”
Danny, who was next to Trent and was also at the end of his tether breathed in, then out slowly. Then did it again, and a third time to be safe. “Can someone please make sure Quinn doesn’t hyperventilate himself to death,” he asked, not even bothering to look at the Texan who he just knew had his phone out, recording; even if most of the sound was going to be him gasping for breath as he laughed. “Trent, he’s on the ground; might as well give it a shot.”
Brock flipped over and sat up suddenly. “You’re going to shoot me?!” He asked, looking so upset, Trent thought he might cry. He was getting there himself, if he were honest. “Why?! What did I do to deserve such a thing?!” then, in a small voice, “I thought you were my friends.”
Trent crossed himself, asked whoever was listening for an explanation as to what he’d done to deserve this.
“Clay?” Jason called, approaching the blond slowly. He hadn’t moved for the last ten minutes, and he really hoped that meant the man had fallen asleep. He was sitting upright, looked like he was a meditating Buddha or something, but the fact he was stationary and not on his fifth lap of running up the four flights of stairs because he was ‘looking for something’ was a minor miracle. He’d given up following the blond after the first one, and had posted Lochy and Alex at the top and bottom to keep an eye on him when he showed no sign of stopping.
“He asleep?” Ray asked. His brother looked exhausted; Jason could sympathise.
“Not sure,” he muttered, watching the young sniper closely. “He’s not even twitching; I think we’re good.”
“For one of them, at least.” Ray jammed a thumb over his shoulder. “Trent’s trying to check Brock’s temperature, blood pressure.”
“Oh yeah, how’s that goin’?”
“Brock thinks they’re going to shoot him.”
“What?!” That was Clay, and they both leaped back as the blond raised a hand to clutch at his imaginary pearls, his eyes wide and horrified. “Why would you shoot Brock?!” Only moments ago he’d been the picture of serene calmness – now it was like watching a rocket fall off its stand as it exploded.
“I’M COMING BROCK!” Clay screeched as he unfolded himself from his position, flew off the table and shoved past them - only to yelp in shock when Full Metal tackled him from the side, the pair crashing into a couch, Metal doing his best to pin the blond down. “NOOOOOOO! DON’T YOU SHOOT MY BROTHER!”
“Stop squirming!”
“When will this day end?” Jason asked, sounding pained. Ray shrugged helplessly.
“I belieeeeeeve I can fly.”
“Clay.”
“I believe I can touuuuuch the sky.”
“Clay.”
“Although it’s really far away, nows I think about it.”
“How far, you reckon?”
Lochy groaned and tried to smother himself with a pillow.
Richie dragged himself upright and stormed from the room with his bedding, Ruby in tow.
Tom pushed up onto an elbow and glared at the two silhouettes standing by the window, their faces, by all appearances, pressed against the glass. “Clay! Brock! It’s two in the goddamn morning! Shut up!”
“How long is this supposed to last?” Lochy whined.
They’d only had an hours sleep. Maybe. At a push. Tom looked at his watch. Forty minutes – fucking hell.
Whatever high these two were on, didn’t seem inclined to wind down any time soon. Jason, Trent, Alex, Danny, Lisa, and Blackburn were all in another part of the warehouse talking about what to do, were consulting with Doc back home. Full Metal, Jacob, Ray, and Sonny were who knew where, and he, Lochy, and Richie had somehow drawn the babysitting straw. Although Richie was apparently out, so that just left him and Lochy. Oh joy.
Someone entered the room, and he squinted at the person, tried to work out who it was.
“Where are they?” Oh, it was Scott. Maybe he’d come to relieve them for the rest of the night.
Then he registered what Metal had asked him. He sat upright just as Scott turned the lights on. Lochy was grumbling about the lights – and they were now the only ones in the room. How the pair had managed to sneak out without him noticing, he had no idea.
“Oh shit,” he groaned.
Something clattered on the roof above them, and the three of them looked up at the noise, before turning to each other. Full Metal activated his radio – because he was a weirdo who apparently walked around with one at two in the morning – summoned the rest of the group as the three of them ran towards the roof access that was three rooms away, Richie and Ruby joining them when they realised something was wrong.
They found Brock and Clay standing on chairs – who knew where they’d found them, everyone was too afraid to ask – and reaching towards the sky.
“I. Still. Can’t. Reeeeaaaach!” Clay whined, extending as far up as he could.
Brock was doing the same, before he stopped and planted his hands on his hips. “Maybe we need a ladder.”
“Excellent idea, but it’ll take too long. Now, if I stand on your shoulders, I could -”
“Holy fucking shit!” Trent screeched as the rest of the team joined them on the rooftop. “Get down here RIGHT NOW!”
“But the sky, Trent,” Clay grumbled, planting his hands on his hips and looking down on them all. “The sky is out of reach, and I wanna touch it.”
“Yeah,” Brock added. “I wanna go to Saturn. I hear it’s lovely there, this time of the year.”
“Mimosa’s on Titan.”
“Cocktails on the rings. Lovely.”
“I’ll get on the phone to Mandy,” Blackburn sighed, rubbing his eyes and looking beyond exhausted. Tom could sympathise. “See if she’s made any progress.”
“Holy fucking Anita!” Clay exclaimed completely out of the blue at five am. Sonny fell out of his bed and groaned when he hit the floor. Where the hell had that blond crackhead come from? Then –
“What the fuck, tinkerbell?!”
“Autocorrect my bro, autocorrect,” Clay replied before walking off, gone as soon as he’d appeared. Sonny just lay on the floor, pulled his bedding on top of him. Better to be down here in case the blond came back exclaiming other random shit and frightened the pants off of him again.
Finally, a full twenty four hours after Brock and Clay had been injected, the drug had worn off. As soon as they’d dropped, had literally dropped where they stood - and Danny had confirmed they were still alive - DEVGRU teams Alpha and Bravo, along with their support staff packed up their gear, carried the two unconscious SEALs to the cars, left, came back to fetch the arms dealer they’d completely forgotten about until half way down the block from the dingy room they’d locked him in, and driven to the airport.
On board the plane, both SEALs had been given fluids via IV drip and were stashed in their hammocks where everyone could keep an eye on them, and finally, finally, they could all get some sleep.
“They’ll have some raging headaches when they wake up,” Danny said, looking over the paperwork Mandy had given him with a breakdown of whatever was in their syringes. “Aren’t going to feel well at all.”
“Long term consequences?”
Danny shook his head. “Once this shit is completely out of their system, they’ll be fine.”
“Until I get all this footage edited and playing on a non-stop loop in the crew room,” Sonny laughed, showing his phone to Hollier and Lang, both of whom were cackling as they rewatched their brother’s antics.
“They ain’t never going to live this down.”