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“Just shut up and do what you are told, rookie!” The angry words with a Texan accent are unexpectedly loud in the relative quiet of the base.
“Sonny, I don’t like to have explosives on me. The backpack has been working well for years.” Spenser’s voice sounded leveled and calm, but Ray knows that their Six has a temper that could match Sonny’s, so he decided to try to prevent the conflict. But after he entered the storage room, it became evident that he was too late for that. Brock and Trent had busied themselves with their gear, eying the pair cautiously, ready to interfere if the words would turn into punches. Sonny and Clay were standing toe to toe, Quinn clenched the thigh holster in his hand, face red and angry. Their rookie was wearing his usual self-assured cocky grin that immediately put Ray on edge, all peacemaking plans forgotten.
“What’s the matter, Spenser? Is following orders too hard for you?” Ray was almost satisfied at the flash of surprise and uncertainty in the kid’s eyes at these words.
Spenser shook his head with a simple “No, Sir. Little discussion about equipment”.
Good. But not good enough, because the kid was opening his mouth again, clearly to continue arguing, so Ray raised a hand, efficiently silencing him.
“Don’t want to hear. Bravo Three told you what to do, you do it.” Perry gave the kid one more glare and, without breaking eye contact, jerked his head toward Sonny. “Take a hostler and put it on, Spenser. End of the story.”
Sonny smirked and shoved the item to the kid's chest with much more force than necessary, withdrawing the hand instantly, making Spenser make a half-step back from the shove and grab the hostler to prevent it from dropping. Clay’s mouth tugged in an unpleasant smirk, eyes became cold and clouded with some emotions. And Perry almost shivered from the strength of suppressed emotions radiating from the rookie, none of them actually felt light and pleasant.
“Everyone’s decent?” Lisa’s teasing voice was met with too-cheerful and somehow relieved confirmation from the guys. “Hey, Spenser, Jason wants you in the TOC now. Some audio tapes need a translation. Could be related to your op.” Lisa made a few steps inside, frowned at the tension in the air, and looked at the kid questionably.
She knew that those first months in Bravo weren’t easy for Clay. Being the rookie at the Tier One team would be hard for anyone - the job was demanding, the risks higher than usual, and the new brothers’ balance between overprotectiveness and pushing to the limits is confusing. But in the case of Clay Spenser push came to shove from the beginning while acceptance and protectiveness never came. So now Davis eyed the guys, surprised at the agitated look on Ray’s face - the usually calm and reasonable Bravo Two looked like he had a hard time dealing with his anger.
Lisa expected the rookie to wear the matched expression, but Clay just nodded to Lisa and smiled. He strapped the holster with one smooth move, grabbed his gear, and went out without looking at anyone. Ray looked at the kid - his movements were well-measured like there was nothing wrong like there wasn’t any confrontation just minutes ago like there wasn’t gloating Sonny, tense Trent, and even more than usual unreadable Brock, and like there wasn’t Ray, who for some reason suddenly felt like an asshole.
Lisa had given the guys the pointed look and left after Clay.
“I say it’s better for everyone if Wonderboy stays on base and plays the full-time translator.” Scowled Sonny when the pause started to become uncomfortable. “He doesn't belong here. And he just refuses to fucking listen!”
“I don’t know. The kid has never fussed over unimportant things before, so maybe it bothers him for a good reason.” Brock sounded thoughtful.
“Or maybe he just gave us a temper tantrum.” Smirked Ray. “All kids do from time to time. He just needs to be put into his place.”
Trent met Brock’s eyes and shrugged. They were on the same page here - something about that situation felt wrong. Shure, their rookie has been struggling to find his place in the team, questioning almost everything all the time, but no one could say that he refused to listen or argued just for the sake of it. Spenser learned faster than anyone whom Trent ever met, grabbing every piece of information, reevaluating every fact, and utilizing it just to be used right away. Truth be told, it was impressive, they just weren’t ready to be impressed.
The endless questions of how and why, some reasoning or the second opinion, all that would be expected from their rookie, but not the blunt refusal he gave Sonny. And for a moment the kid allowed himself to look hurt by Ray’s treatment, and they have never been able to see such open emotion from Spenser before. It was something to think about. Something to talk about, actually, because these sorts of issues, if not solved, could cause problems in the field. But talking with Clay Spenser about his feelings…No, they weren't ready for that either.
*****
Something was bothering his youngest. Jason saw it the moment Clay appeared in the TOC - disheveled and agitated. And now, almost three hours later, the kid looked even worse. He was obviously tired - nothing surprising here, considering the amount of work he managed to do in such a short term. And, judging by the astonished glances that two linguistic specialists from the CIA kept giving Spenser, the kid was skimming through some tough stuff like it was nothing. But, besides concentrating on the task at hand, his Sixth looked distant and somehow defeated.
Now Clay was standing near a table covered with papers, engaged in the quiet but animated conversation with Lisa, Mandy, and a few CIA agents. Jason frowned, noticing how the rookie’s hand went to rub his chest absent-mindedly for it seemed like the umpteenth time. The kid caught himself halfway, an annoyed grimace visible on the young face just for a fraction of a second, hand lowered, returned firmly to the table.
But before Jason can address the question, there was some more movement, CIA agents clapped their hands with his rookie, looking pleased and Mandy met his eyes and nodded - it was time to go, their preparations were finished.
As the rest of the Bravo filled the TOC for their briefing the tension became even more obvious. Clay put himself in the far corner of the room, his usual place since their first briefing when he was ordered to the “back of the bus”. It was meant as a half-joke, but the kid perceived it as a rule and never argued. Another contradicting thing about the rookie that made Jason Hayes look at him more attentively. There was something in the kid behind his cocky facade. Judging by the kid’s files, he didn’t seem to be afraid of anything, driving his COs crazy, and it was something Hayes himself experienced a few times with the kid already. His stunts, as efficient as they were, were also borderline crazy, to the point of total lack of self-preservation.
In the field and during the action the kid seemed like every other young SEAL - brush and confident, though not many of them have possessed even a part of Spenser’s potential and natural talent. But at the same time, it was like some fear and tension was filling the kid the moment they returned to the safety of the base. Ray blamed it on the fact that Spenser was a newbie who needed more time to find his place within the team, but Jason saw something else there. He saw some uncertainty and the fear of refusal.
It was Adam who advised Jason to look closer into these issues with the young man. At first, Jason thought it was kind of ridiculous - Spenser, being the Green Teamer then, looked anything but insecure. Even the defeated look on the kid’s face at the bottom five voting results revealing was easy to address to the hit on Spenser’s ego. But then the tragedy with Armstrong happened, the kid’s facade cracked slightly under the pressure of overwhelming grief and Jason was able to peer through the cracks. And was disturbed by what he saw. There was something old and hurting inside the kid - not something you expect to see in someone so young. But then, Clay Spenser was too young for almost all the things he does and skills that he somehow managed to master.
Despite his cold words in the mess hall, Hayes was impressed by Spenser’s ability to put himself together. The fact that he passed the SERE not so long after such a hard blow was something that should have earned the kid some respect. But it didn’t. They all just didn’t consider this fact, because by that time all of Spenser’s walls were put back in place, high and impenetrable.
It was Seawer who pointed to Jason the fact that the kid was totally alone in the world now - having no family and no close friends left. And it was Adam’s push and Ray’s insistence that brought the kid to the Bravo.
But it was three months now that Spenser was with them, and they were no closer to understanding and accepting the kid as they were at the beginning, maybe even further in some cases. Jason saw the angry look that Sonny shoot at Spenser and raised a brow at Ray who was sitting next to him.
“Clay was smartmouthing Sonny. Got to put rookie into his place.” Explained Ray in low voice, but for anyone who knew him, it was obvious that he was feeling not so sure about his actions as he wanted to seem.
“Huh.” That was all that Jason managed to say as Blackburn went to the board with Mandy and the briefing started.
*****
Sonny got a long drink from his beer and closed his eyes tuning out the friendly banter near the fire. The events of the day were finally getting to him and he felt unbalanced. He has got pretty close to getting himself killed today, and judging by the attitude of his brothers, who were sitting slightly closer and bickering slightly too cheerful, they realized it too. As always, near-death experiences make them even closer to each other, strengthening the invisible bonds between them.
Speaking of brothers, though. Sonny shook himself off the slight stupor - it wasn’t wise to mix painkillers with alcohol, and he will hear the lecture from Trent about proper drinking tomorrow. But now their medic seemed oddly ok with it.
“Where is Spenser?”
The unexpected question from the Texan made the guys look around. They remembered the kid at the beginning of the evening. He smiled at some jokes, made a few comments, toasted with them to another successful op and then just disappeared.
“Didn’t see him leaving.” Jason frowned. “I thought you reached some peace, Son?”
“We did. No problem there, Jase.” Sonny blinked, suddenly feeling the wave of explosion and the sting of shrapnel hitting his body. “The kid did well today. He can be a little shit, but he is ours now.”
The smirks and sounds of confirmation from the rest of Bravo made Jason exhale in relief.
“Glad to hear it, gents.” Blackburn sounded oddly serious for someone in the flip-flops with bear in hand. “I would suggest you let Spenser know that you feel that way. Because you have made it pretty clear to the kid that he is not welcome here.”
With this their Commander left them, heading to the barracks, and, taking it as their clue, the other guys started to move. In less than ten minutes there was only Bravo sitting near the fire.
“Okay, guys. You heard the Commander. It’s a shame that he has to interfere. Let’s go, we have a missing kid to find and some amends to make.” Jason smiled and nodded to the armory. “I think I saw him going there.”
“It’s a strange place to go sulking if you ask me.” Grunted Sonny, but still first to follow Jason to the armory.
“Of course you are. Your way of dealing with things is getting drunk silly and going to the strip club.” Smirked Brock earning himself a playful slap from Trent.
“There is nothing wrong with a good strip club, Brock! You really should accompany me and Son sometimes!”
*****
There was light seen from under the door of the armory, indicating that someone indeed was here at this odd hour. But what they saw inside after Hayes pushed the door open impatiently was far from what they expected.
They were ready to see their rookie cleaning his beloved rifle nursing a bottle of beer, or even reading in the solitary unoccupied place. They didn’t expect to see their rookie, sweating and shaking, sitting at the chair and intensely staring at the clock on the table. He has a whit-knuckles grip at the end of the table, and muscles on his forearms spasming convulsively from the effort. He has a few explosives on himself - in the arm and leg holsters and also attached to the vest.
Their entrance was left unnoticed or ignored by the young man.
“The hell is going on here?!” Jason’s angry and confused shout also made a little difference. But just as Bravo One made a step toward his rookie to demand answers, the clock on the table gave a beep, and Spenser with a wet gulp unclenched his fists and started to pull the holsters off himself. The time on the clock stopped at ninety minutes. Did he leave them that long ago?
Only after all the explosives were off his body and put on the table, Clay managed to take a long shaking breath and shook his head, clearing the fog and ringing in it. And only then he realized that he had an audience.
The immediately tensed shoulders and embarrassed, defeated look in the kid’s eyes told them that they did a poor job as older brothers. There was no trust in their rookie’s eyes. Brock thought that the look reminded him of a dog that he rescued not long time ago from the abusive household - the dog was beaten too often to trust people, but the desire, the need to do it was still painfully there. The pang of sympathy was so sudden and strong that Brock stepped closer to the young man, but before he could do or say anything he was interrupted in either a rude way. Cerberus pushed his handler aside in his rush to reach his new favorite human and with a whine put his head on the kid’s lap, demanding the ear scratch that attention, and instantly receiving just that.
Brock smiled at the picture “We missed you near the fire, brother.”
Spenser just huffed in return, sending a look of clear disbelief to Brock.
But before anything could be said by anyone, Hayes shook Ray’s calming hand from his shoulder and asked more calmly.
“What was that you were doing here, Clay? And please, don’t lie to us.” Master Chief Hayes could say please all he wanted, but all questions and appeals from him automatically turned to orders. Not that he was proud of it, his children complained about it enough times, but Jason couldn’t help himself - it was his way of speaking. And he could sound harsh when he was worried. And now he was not only worried, but he was also scared. For a moment it was looking as if the kid was trying to end his own life for fuck’s sake!
“Tell us, Clay. We are here for you.” It was Trent now. The medic looked pale and alarmed. As a medic, he saw that the kid was on the edge of hyperventilating just a few minutes before, but seemed to calm down now when he got rid of the explosives.
“I just don’t like to have explosives on me. Makes me nervous.” The voice sounded dull and unemotional. Spenser was avoiding looking at them, concentrating on the dog instead, but they let it be. The fact that he was talking to them was enough.
“Are you afraid of them?” Sonny sounded incredulous.
Spenser tensed even more that it seemed humanly possible and opened his mouth, but Jason interrupted him.
“We find it hard to believe, kid. I saw your file. The EOD training and the fact that you were considered an EOD specialist in Team Three. Commendation for disarming some shit under heavy fire and saving your unit as I remember? Right?” Jason didn’t miss the amazed look that Sonny shoot him. Yes, he didn’t tell the team all the information from Spenser’s file. Didn’t see the need at the beginning, and then just wasn’t sure that it will do any good. The guys didn’t seem to accept the kid and Jason himself didn’t want to look like he was trying to sell them some damaged goods. It was feeling right back then and proved to be a bad decision now.
Clay looked at Jason, and shrugged one more time. “Not afraid of them. Just don’t like them on my body. Something that I’m working on.”
That suddenly makes sense to the guys. They all have some fears. Hell, Sonny was a walking practical guide for any medical student who studied different phobias. And all of them were dealing with their fears. More or less successful.
“It could be dangerous to do it alone.” Brock’s voice held understanding and gentle reprimand in even proportions.
“Wasn’t doing it alone.” Clay’s gaze shifted briefly to the picture at the table and the guys all felt like they were slapped in the face with this unwilling confession. It was a picture of Clay and Armstrong. Their rookie has chosen the company of his dead friend while he has alive breathing older brothers just within arm's reach. But he didn’t reach for them, they didn’t make it clear that he was able to. Brian Armstrong smiled at them from the picture, his arm hugging Clay’s shoulders strongly and protectively. Spenser at the photo leaned into that touch, looking relaxed and happy. They never saw him looking like this. Jason could blame the beer and the long day for that, but he could swear that Armstrong was laughing at the poor excuse of the brothers they were for Clay, his eyes hard on all of them. Hayes blinked and the delusion is gone.
Clay sighed tiredly and rubbed his eyes with a slightly shaking hand, then carefully pick up the photo, took one more longing look at it, and put it into the inner pocket of his shirt. He gave the Cerberus one more rub and stood, starting to clear the things.
“We need to talk about it.” Jason gave a nod toward the explosives on the desk. Ray made some protesting sound, willing his friend to give the kid a break, but Hayes knew when to push. He felt that the kid needed to talk about it, even if he wasn’t ready for it. Something was eating their rookie from the inside and they ignored and neglected the kid too long for now. It has to be fixed. And the process will be hard and uncomfortable for all of them.
“There is nothing to talk about, Sir. Just some training exercise.”
Oh, they all saw it coming - their rookie clammed up, going into his soldier mood, shutting them down, making all impersonal and professional. But they wouldn’t have it, no more.
“Is this all about our argument from today? Because if so, I must say…” Sonny saw the uncomfortable look in the blue eyes, but before he was able to continue, to make some amends, to voice his gratitude to the kid who saved his life today, Spenser rushed in.
“You were right.”
“Was I?”
“Was he?” The amusement in the choir of his brothers’ voices wasn’t appreciated by Sonny, but he was ok with the statement.
“Yeah. It was a piece of good advice. I just got too carried out.” Clay grimaced slightly. He was still avoiding meeting their eyes, busying himself with putting the items in their respective places.
“And it needs to be discussed. Let’s go. There is nobody left near the fire, but we still have some firewood and beer. Hayes motioned his men to the door.
“I would rather go to sleep if it’s okay with you. It was a long day.” Clay knew that he can’t get out of this but still has to try.
“Come on, Clay. Don’t do this. We are a family and we are here for each other. Besides, we need to do it for ourselves as much as you need this.” Brock’s voice was quiet and calm, his side-hug with an arm across Clay’s shoulders almost perfect imitation of Brian’s pose from the photo. “Let’s go.”
*****
It was good to have a fire all for themselves. The guys took their places, passed a beer, and prepared to listen. Or they thought so because after their rookie started to talk, it turned out that they were not prepared at all.
Clay didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to reveal this part of his childhood. Hell, he didn’t want to talk about his childhood at all, period. But he understood that he need to. If he wanted to have a chance with Bravo. So he grabbed the bottle of beer and started to talk, eyes never leaving the dancing fire.
“I have never told about it anyone except Brian. He just caught me one night during my training, made me talk, and then was always with me during this. With him, it was easier and after some time I was able to handle the holsters without freaking out. Preferred the backpack, but it wasn’t a problem. Never stop practicing, not before Brian…” Spenser cleared his throat and continued.
“Then I just couldn’t make myself do it. Stupid. It will be ok with regular practice tough.”
“I see. The training itself should be reminding you about the death of your friend. Not stupid, Clay. Just human.” Trent spoke calmly and sadly. The grief and pain were still there, they all could see it in their rookie.
“You did tell Brian about the reason for your… aversion. And he helped. Tell us, so we could also help you. Let us understand.” Ray was speaking softly, he didn’t want to scare off the rare moment of candidness.
The blue eyes still looked at them with this heartbreaking mix of longing and fear that tugged at all the older men's hearts. But it was Sonny who finally made the kid speak with his quiet words.
“I could be the dick sometimes, Blondie. But I know a thing or two about fears. They can easily destroy you from the inside if you don’t talk about them. Trust your brother to shoulder some weight.”
Clay never before has heard the Texan sounding so sincere. He knew that he needed to be brave and try. And if his trust will be misplaced one more time, so… better to know it earlier than later.
“I grew up with my grandparents. They were missionaries in Africa. My granddad was a retired professor, who was teaching both - children and adults, and my granny was a doctor. The nurse actually, but where we were leaving it was as good as a doctor.”
Guys shifted uneasily. They didn’t know about it, and wanted to ask questions, but kept silent under the warning gaze of Jason. They barely made the kid start speaking, so interrupting him would not be a good idea. Hayes himself was interested to know more about their rookie, even when he didn’t understand what connection could be between the childhood story and military fear of carrying explosives.
“We moved a lot, changed villages and even countries. Sometimes my grandparents would leave me in the missionary for a few days on my own. I was used to it. That was one of that days. I and two of my friends went fishing in the river when those men came for us. We were trained to avoid armed men for all costs, so we tried to run, to hide. They were faster, and they have guns. Eli was killed just when he tried to jump into the river. Shoot in his head. I remember the blood that splashed on my face, I think I screamed, and I froze. They caught me and Markus seconds later. Put in the car and brought to their camp.”
Clay was looking at the fire intensely, eyes wide, watching the scenes from his past, relieving them. The feeling of his friend’s blood on his face was still there.
Sonny was looking at the rookie with an unreadable expression, while Ray and Jason, both fathers, were sad and angry.
“How old were you, Spence?” Trent asked the question for all of them and could only curse softly at Clay’s “Almost nine I think.”
“In the camp, we were put into the cage with five other kids. They hold us there without food for two days, occasionally some of them came to us, slapping around, shouting, demanding answers about who we are and where from. Think they wanted us weak and scared, desperate to return home. And we were scared and desperate.” Clay smirked and shook his head as if he was embarrassed by this part.
“On the third day, they started to bring us one by one to the tent near the cage. I was the last one. They brought me into the tent, gave me water, and asked if I’m ready to go home. I remember being so terrified that I could just nod. It was all that I want. I was stupid to think that they already have what they wanted and will just release us. But then they put an s-vest on me, strapped it so tight that it was almost hard to breathe. Put the switch in my hand, typed it, and told me that it was time to go home.”
“Fuck. It’s enough to give nightmares to everyone, kid.” Quinn sounded angry.
Other guys nodded their confirmation. It was indeed a horrible thing to do to any human being, and the fact that it was done to the child - was infuriating.
“Not the worst part.” Spenser shook his head and grimaced, eyes never leaving the fire, the bottle of beer still unopened. “Turned out it was a known practice. Those bastards would capture people, make walking bombs of them, then return them to the villages. No one in the village was good enough to defuse bombs safely. Many people have died. So now the citizens were not so… welcoming…”
There was a long silence, Clay was lost in his memory. He didn’t know how to describe the complicated feelings of relief, desperation, and betrayal when he understood that nobody will help him.
“They untied my arm, so it was only me who was holding a switch now, and pushed me out of the car not far from the village. I saw Markus not far ahead of me, cried for him to wait, and then this happened… People saw us. But instead of help they, uh… Tried to stop us from entering.”
“Tried to stop you how?” The careful voice of Brock was full of controlled rage. Yes, he understood where those people came from, choosing many lives over a few. It was a hard choice to make. But still, not the one Brock himself will do.
“Other children saw us first. The older ones. They started to throw rocks at us, so we couldn’t get closer. Pretty good aim they have had. I think I should be glad that the rocks didn’t make me or Markus release the switches.” Clay absentmindedly rubbed an old scar near the right ear - one of the rocks had some sharp edges.
“Then adults came. One of them was Markus’ father. Markus saw him and started to cry for help, to run despite that he was bleeding all over. This must have been the last straw and they… Um… they shoot him, and his father did nothing to stop it. He has another four kids, so… I don’t know…”
The last words were so soft that they were barely recognizable. Cerberus whined and moved closer to the young man, offering his support.
Brock met Trent’s amused glance and nodded - his four-legged friend was a great judge of character and accepted their rookie from the start. Something that they should have done too.
“This is not how it works, Spence.” There was a pain in Ray’s words. He couldn’t even imagine himself choosing one child over the other.
“But it is for them. I’m not telling that it’s right or easy, it’s just what they need to do to survive. But of course, it took me some time and long talks with my grandfather to understand it and to be able to live with these people again.”
“You survived. How? Someone has realized that they were adults, returned to his senses, and helped you?” Oh, Jason tried so hard not to sound too self-righteous. He saw much in this line of work to judge people, but the picture of the nine-year-old boy, a few years younger than Mickey now, in the s-vest, being chased away with rocks was just too much to bear. In moments like this there always was a calming presence of Ray that returned him some sense of balance. But now his 2IC was too focused on their rookie, who seemed even younger than his ridiculously young twenty-four years now with this lost look on his face. But at the same time, there was something old and wise in these blue eyes, that were now looking at something long gone, but at the same time still present. And Jason realized that he could never again seriously call Clay Spenser green and stupid. Hell, this kid went through some real shit in his life. And if the looks on his men’s faces were any indication they all understood that today they just scratched the surface of their rookie’s past.
“I think I was lucky that day. Sheer dumb luck.” The silence was so loaded, that when Clay finally started to speak again, all of the guys flinched. “I run away, as fast as I was able to. Guys could kill a small animal with their rocks in the hunt, so I was pretty banged up. I didn’t have a clue about how to disarm a vest. I taped the switch with the shreds of clothes, just like I saw they were doing. And then managed to cut the straps of the vest with the sharp edge of the rock. Took me almost all night, but I managed to free myself and get out far enough before the damn thing finally detonated.” Clay looked into the wide eyes of the guys for the first time.
And they were really satisfied that besides the old pain, there were glimpses of pride and defiance, that they were so used to seeing there. It was impressive. Scary as hell, infuriating, and barbaric, but impressive.
“My grandfather found me a few days later. I was too scared to return to the village, was too small to understand that it will be ok now, as I wasn’t a danger to them anymore. We moved away though. That same day when my grandpa found me. They just couldn’t stay with these people. Understood them, make sure that I understood too, but couldn’t stay.” Clay shrugged, and looked at the beer bottle in his hand as if were seeing it for the first time.
It took two awkward attempts to open the bottle with shaking hands for Sonny to snap out of his stupor. He grabbed the bottle from the kid’s hands, noticing the small flinch and half-raised hand as if he attempted to shield himself from the blow, opened it, and showed it with gruff “Here, we all could use a drink”.
Texan meet the blue eyes unusually serious, welcoming the rookie to look in, to assess his seriousness. And he must have done it right, because their youngest visibly relaxed, hummed in gratitude, and made a sip.
Ray smiled softly at the exchange and clicked his bottle with Jason’s - it seemed Bravo was on their way to a new life as a solid pack of six brothers. It was their chance to become whole again.
There was silence for some time. Nobody knew what to say, all of them just trying to process what they heard and connect the horrific story to their cocky and brash rookie. All of them were stunned and amazed by the kid’s power of will and determination.
But all that Clay heard in that silence were disappointment and distrust. Way to go to make even more fools of himself than he already was. Nobody will trust him after this - how could they? It will be just another team that will throw him aside like yesterday’s trash. His father, mother, friends in Africa, cadets in BUDs, teammates… It will be the same old story. And he just couldn’t do it anymore. Not today. The fear of their rejection and the urge to justify himself was too intense to suppress. So, as always, he rushed headfirst into something that he expected to bring nothing but more pain.
“I can do it! I swear I can. Just give me some more time and…” He stopped at the raised hand of Trent. Figures it will be the medic who will tell him that he was unfit for Bravo. Another loss was tugging at his heart painfully, roaring in the ears, blurring the vision. He didn’t give Trent the chance to say the words - didn’t need to. Clay stood on the shaking legs, feeling slightly bad when Cerberus whined at losing his pats, the world kept spinning, but he couldn’t be that drunk after a bottle of beer. Oh, he was a mess, no surprise that nobody wanted him nearby. Somebody was near, but Clay couldn’t tell who - never experienced them touching him, supporting him. Strange, but it was just how it felt - somebody was supporting him, holding almost all of his weight, pulling him into the embrace, not pushing away. It was new and confusing. And Clay couldn’t deal with it now. He just needed to say his part before they will be able to send him off with their own hurtful words. He needed to do it on his own terms.
“I’ll give my request for transfer tomorrow morning.” Somehow he managed to focus on his CO. Jason looked angry. Of course. Nobody wanted a weakling. “Sorry, I waste your time.”
He wanted to go away, to avoid the angry looks and nasty comments, but his body obviously have had enough for one day. World swayed one more time, shifted, and became dark.
*****
When Spenser jumped on his feet, a wild lost look in his eyes, trembling and swaying, Sonny was the first one to grab the bonehead before he managed to hurt himself. When Blondie spilled some shit about the resignation letter, Sonny wanted to smack him senseless. When the kid went limp in his hands, Quinn panicked and did the first thing they all do in the situations like this - he screamed urgent and short “Trent!”.
After some time their rookie was lowered to the reclining chair, slapped at his cheeks, and made to smell some awful thing that their medic produces from his pocket.
“The kid wore himself thin. It’s too much for one day.” Trent stroked Spenser on the head, making the young man look at him incredulously.
“He will be ok after some rest. And I think I know what we need to change in this training of his. What you were doing, Clay, it wasn’t training, but pure torture. I will suggest a new approach.” Sensing the kid’s uneasiness, Trent raised a hand one more time. “We all have our shitload of problems, kid. And it’s what brothers are for, Clay. We are here to help.”
“Trent is right, Sunshine,” Jason smirked at the kid. “We weren’t thought any things that your imagination has put in our heads. We were angry. Still are, actually, that the world could be so cruel. But not at you, kid. We are amazed and proud of everything you accomplished. And we will be near you every step further.”
Spenser looked into his leader’s eyes, looking for the signs of the lie, of a cruel joke. But saw only sadness, earnestness, and respect.
“What did he say,” Sonny smirked and ruffed Clay’s hair. “And I’ll appreciate it if next time you will just tell me to stop if something makes you this uncomfortable. I’m not a mind reader, you know?”
Quinn’s voice was full of emotions and he was looking slightly embarrassed at his display. But before the situation could become even more uncomfortable for the people who preferred to keep their cards close to their chest, it was Brock came to the rescue.
“Wow, Son! Newer heard such a long speech from you! Did you read a book recently?”
“Hush, dog-boy! This is a natural-born talent here actually!”
Jason smirked, found Ray’s eyes, and nodded. Ray, being the sensitive and clever as he was just smirked - of course he was right in suggesting Spenser for the Bravo. The kid was a bunch of work, but the best choice anyway.