Chapter Text
"Crime starts with thought, as natural as breathing." - Fyodor Dostoevsky
Jason’s worst trait is that he’s too aware of every second that passes. Forgetting isn’t something he’s allowed the grace to have. He remembered every second of every minute of every day and he’s aware of it all. He’s too aware of the passage of time – on late nights when sleeping becomes too hard, on hard operations when they’ve been waiting for too long, when he’s standing over Alana’s grave. Time haunts Jason and it doesn’t relent and it keeps him trapped in his mind, this torturous cage that he can never escape. However, on days like this, the thing that haunts him turns out to be a blessing in disguise. Being aware of time means that he doesn’t lose any time even when the situation keeps pushing him to do just that.
It keeps him sane.
Sharp, cold, icy water splashed over his head and forced Jason awake. It takes a few solid seconds for Jason to become alert again and gain his bearings. The haze that clogs his mind slowly dissipated leaving him to blink away the last remnants of sleep that he’s somehow managed to cling onto. Though in the darkness it’s hard to make out much. The one small window that breaks into the stone building around them offers little light, just enough that Jason can see Clay, who is in a similar state to him. The chains that keep Jason upright by his wrists started to dig into his flesh during hour two of the training exercise. He thinks that six hours have passed but he can’t be too sure.
The skin on his feet scratched against the stone floor as he swayed slightly, his head light from the beatings he’s taken and the SERE training he’s been subjected to. Small pin pricks of blood bloom on his soles but he barely felt it when it has to compete with the ache of his entire body. The exhaustion ran deep, deep to his bones and every muscle and every breath he took. It was inescapable. Standing in this forced position wasn’t comfortable at all but Clay made it look easy.
Clay, Jason’s convinced, could do anything and make it look as easy as breathing. Clay has taken the same beatings as him and hasn’t once been shaken. It was amazing and concerning at the same time. Clay’s head snaps to the side as the SERE officer punches him. Jason winces at the sound and in some ways it pains him more to see Clay hurt, even as he reassures himself that Clay can take it and that he’s tough enough, and that he’s seen Clay come out of situations alive that would kill a lesser man. The second SERE officer began to scream at him again. The only effect this has on him is creating a headache.
Jason stared at the man in front of him and followed protocol – name, rank, service number. Nothing else. Nothing more. You didn’t beg for your life or try to compromise. Clay’s already been beaten for sassing too much. Briefly, he wondered if the rest of the team was okay. He’s sure that they are but being as they aren’t in his line of vision, Jason worries. He hated the fact that they were in a different room and he had no idea what they were going through and he also hated Lindel for making them do this. Bravo had just returned from a series of hard operations and Jason had been itching for a break. Their lives could never be so simple and Jason had grown used to that disappointment.
Now, he and the rest of the team were going through additional SERE training. Immediately, upon being thrown in this room he and Clay were chained up. Chains connecting their wrists to the ceiling and forcing them to stand uncomfortably on their toes. Clay had spent the first three hours talking to the SERE officer – and frankly pissing the man off – about the latest football game, and then the updated policy on uniform, and then the dog he saw on his morning run. It, in some way, had been appreciated by Jason. It brought some sense of normality that he needed.
Jason gritted his teeth to stop them from shattering together. He wouldn’t allow them to see that weakness show. It was almost impossible to stave off the growing chill in his bones with the room being made of stone, almost destined to collect every drop of water that got spilt and turn the atmosphere into one that nipped at his nose. His feet had grown numb to any sensation by this point in time and the cold tiles that had previously bothered him had little effect. Clay’s lips had turned a slight blue, as far as he could tell in the limited light. The window was behind Clay, bringing light down upon him and making it harder to look in his direction. It was easier to drop his gaze to the floor and take pleasure in the darkness.
The SERE officer near Clay stepped back, moving towards Jason. He prepared for a strike, some taunt, but it never came. Nothing came. The man whispered to the other officer, too low for Jason to hear, but the effect was instantaneous. The second officer nodded and left the room leaving him and Clay alone with the first officer. Jason didn’t know his name and didn’t recognise him from base, so he’d probably been brought in for this exercise.
Clay lifted his head up, looking at Jason. He gave a nod – I'm okay – and Jason felt some of the anxiety settle in his chest. Some, not all. Something about Clay got under his skin in a way that none of the others ever managed to do. He cared just that little bit too much, just a little bit too non-professionally. Jason would never verbalise this reality he lived in and he doubts he would ever decide to understand it more than the fleeting moments where he looks at Clay and sees too much of his own children in the kid.
“Hayes, Jason.” Jason croaked out, his throat dry despite the amount of water that had been thrown over him. He didn’t get the chance to continue as the officer struck out, his fist landing square on Jason’s jaw.
The officer’s jaw locked, his words harsh and cold: “That’s enough.” There was no room for argument and Jason wanted to do anything but submit to the order. That wasn’t in his nature. The instruction was the sort of clipped response that frustrated Jason, something too arrogant and curt, something he’s heard before when speaking to Command. He can understand why Clay kept pushing the man’s buttons.
Jason blinked away the throb that started to form, instead choosing to observe the man. The officer strode across the room and stood in front of Clay once more.
“Missed me already?” Clay grinned at the man but Jason could see the strain in his body. Clay was human after all and there were only so many hours of beatings one could take before your body started to give up on you, even Clay’s. “I’m flattered.”
The man didn’t reply. That was Jason’s first warning sign. Immediately, Jason tensed and started to question what had changed. Previously, he had no problem countering Clay. The silence was worrying. He saw Clay also analysing the man, his brain working through a problem that Jason wouldn’t understand. The man looked to the security camera in the room then back to Clay.
Clay didn’t sass this time. His posture had grown defensive, as Jason was feeling. Somewhere in the back of Jason’s mind he knew that this moment, this action, would be the thing that would haunt him for the rest of his life. He knew that he would look back on this day, this second, and curse himself out for not acting sooner, not being better or smarter. At this moment though, his mind didn’t force him to act, and while there was something wrong, he didn’t think it was that severe.
The first touch was soft. Jason didn’t understand what was actually happening as the man rested his hand on Clay’s shoulder.
Clay had seen something though and pulled back as much as the chains would allow “Put your hands on me again and I’ll break them.” There was something desperate in the words that fell out of his mouth in such a rushed manner that it shocked Jason. There was nothing calm and collected about Clat right now, but Jason didn't understand what the kid had understood.
The officer stood facing Clay. Jason couldn’t see his expression, though he desperately wanted to. He needed to understand why Clay had gone...fragile. Clay Spenser was a lot of things, many of which Jason could list off the top of his head and some would argue they were bad characteristics. Jason would argue that wasn’t the case – that Clay was the smartest man he knew, one of the kindest and most empathetic of them all, some naive hope that had been beaten out of Jason years ago still lingering inside of Clay. Clay was never scared though. Not when he was lying helpless on that dirty Manila street. Not when he jumped from the oil rig and crashed into the ocean.
“I don’t think you will.” The officer challenged standing closer. There were inches between his man and the threat now. Jason tugged on his chains but they didn’t give and the panic started to swell inside of him again.
Fear wasn’t something that suited Clay’s face. It was too rough an emotion. Too out of place. It was evident, clear as day, in his eyes. Jason almost thought Clay would start to beg. That alone terrified Jason. But Clay didn’t beg, he locked his jaw and slowed his breathing.
And then in the next second, Jason understood the horror of what they were trapped in. The officer cupped Clay’s face, forcing the kid to look at him as his other hand played with the belt on Clay’s trousers.
“Do you know how long I’ve been waiting to do this?”
Clay swallowed but didn’t say a thing.
Jason’s stomach dropped. The sickness took control immediately and he froze, unsure what he could actually do, part of him still trying to understand what was happening. Not really what – the man’s intentions were blatantly obvious, his actions speaking for themselves – but part of Jason couldn’t accept the truth – that this was happening to Clay, in front of him, now, and he couldn’t do a thing to stop it.
“Come on.” The officer said “It’s no fun when you don’t speak. I want to hear your pretty little voice again.”
“People are watching us.” Jason blurted out but his mind hadn’t caught up to his mouth yet “If you do anything, they’ll see. You won’t just walk away from this.”
“The camera isn’t working right now.” The officer whispered, his lips brushing against Clay’s neck. The kid was staring at the ceiling, doing everything to avoid looking at the man threatening to assault him. Jason’s heart felt as though it was clamped, being wrung out and his mind screamed at him to do anything. The chains wouldn’t let him.
The dim light of the room became a curse. It was impossible not to see what the officer was doing, despite the lack of light. Clay being under the window only illuminated his body in a way Jason’s wasn’t. The officer kissed Clay’s jaw, working from the bone down Clay’s neck. Clay brought his knee up into the officer’s gut, causing him to gasp. All that did was get Clay punched.
“Clay.” Jason screamed, unable to stop himself. Again, he tugged on his wrists. Nothing. He was bound and helpless, utterly helpless, and this was slowly turning out to be a living nightmare. “Clay.- I swear to God, I’m going to kill you.”
“No one manages to get out of the chains.” The words crashed over Jason. This wasn’t the first time. “And you” He spoke to Clay “Fighting only makes it worse.” Both his hands held onto Clay’s waist, running down to his hips and groping him.
“I’m fine.” Clay stated, slightly wobbly at first before the second time “Jason. I’m fine.”
Guilt churned inside of Jason that even now, at one of the worst moments, Clay was trying to comfort him.
“I’m fine.” Clay repeated as the officer's hand played with his belt, finally unbuckling it. However, in this moment Jason couldn’t see anything but how scared Clay was, how he was seeking reassurance that Jason didn’t know how to give. When the officer kissed him, all Jason could see was Clay’s youth. When the officer groped Clay, all Jason could see was Clay’s innocence, his autonomy that was being ripped away from him.
As the officer grabbed Clay’s waist and pulled him close, all Jason could focus on was his failures.
Sticky, hot blood ran down his wrists. Each time Jason pulled, the cuffs cut into his skin and left him raw. He needed to get out and that was all that mattered at this moment. Clay couldn’t move away from the sexual assault, and Jason needed to protect him. He couldn’t. Jason tugged at the chains again, using more strength each time. They didn’t move.
The officer pulled Clay closer. Clay used his weight to try to break the man’s hold, but couldn't. Big fingers locked onto Clay’s hair and pulled down, forcing the kid to cry out slightly. That was the first time Clay had let his pain show. The officer soaked it up, clearly getting off on the violence inflicted upon Cay.
Jason tugged again.
This time, Clay’s assurance was almost a whisper “I’m fine.” Clay didn’t believe it, nor did Jason.
“I’m going to kill you.” Jason promised “I’m going to fucking kill you.”
While holding Clay close the officer reached into his pocket, pulling out a key and unlocking Clay’s cuffs. His wrist fell free instantly, sending his body crashing to the floor.
“Clay-”
Clay tried to fight the man off. This too didn’t work. Jason couldn’t look away as the man forced Clay against the wall, violently, and hitting the kid’s head. Clay’s hands scrambled through the evident daze for anything to fight but were unsuccessful as the man pulled him down.
He forgot how to breathe as the scene unfolded before his eyes. Jason pulled at his wrists. The officer was straddling Clay, pinning him down with ease. If Clay hadn't just gone through six hours of SERE training, hadn’t been punched deliberately to daze him, Jason had no doubt that Clay could have fought the officer off with ease. Right now though Clay had been broken down systematically so that the officer could rape him, and Clay would be unable to fight back.
Until Jason’s body dropped, his knees slamming against the floor, he hadn’t realised how much he had been fighting his restraints. He ignored the burning pain in his wrists and acted on instinct, pulling the officer of Clay and punching him. The man grunted and started to fight back but Jason managed to control the fight. Jason barely remembered to punch safely as his fist met the officer’s face again, and all the anger that had been building inside of him, all the guilt and fear was too easy to let out on this monster.
He only stopped when his hands were pulled away. Jason spun, feeling wild and ready to fight his attacker when he came face to face with Blackburn. His chest heaved, confusion building in him. By the time he turned back to the officer, other personnel had stormed into the building and restrained him. Half of him wanted to kill the officer, rip everyone from his side and rip the man limb from limb. Then the second half of him remembered Clay.
“Jason.” Blackburn said to him, though the words were hard to focus on with how fast his mind was working. “I’ll explain it all later but we got control of the cameras. We saw what happened.”
Jason breathed out, “Clay-”, unable to think about anything else.
“He’s here.” The words were gentle, a softer side of Blackburn that Jason rarely saw but had existed. The side that had been saved for fragile moments “See, Jason, breathe. He’s safe now.”
Lisa was at Clay’s side, sitting on the floor. Her trousers started to soak up the water but she didn’t seem to care. Clay was breathing heavy, his eyes shut, as he rested his head on Lisa’s shoulder. Jason took a step, wanting to comfort Clay, but his body couldn’t cross the short distance between them.
He didn’t deserve to do that. He had watched and done nothing as Clay got sexually assaulted. He didn’t deserve to hold Clay, or tell him everything would be fine, or promise to protect him because he had failed in every way imaginable. It was his job to take care of his men. He had failed as a father by allowing someone else’s kid to get assaulted. He had failed as whatever this role he had in Clay’s life – something more intimate than friend, than team leader, but not enough to be a father – and he hated himself more than anything in that moment.
“We're taking you both to medical.” Blackburn told him.
I’m not leaving Clay’s side. That is what he wanted to say but he couldn’t, he didn't deserve to.
“I want to stay with Jason.” It was the first time Jason had heard him speak since the intervention. The words were shaken, and now Jason could see how tremors racked Clay’s body. “I want-I'm not leaving Jason’s side.”
In some sick, twisted way Jason adored those words. He needed them and now that they were a reality, he would cling to them. If Clay was by Jason’s side, he could protect him and keep him safe and this time he wouldn’t fail. Every protective instinct flared inside of him. If Clay still trusted him, the kid hadn’t understood the fact that Jason had let Clay get assaulted. If Clay was giving him a second chance, he would take it. There was no world in which Jason wouldn’t, and no world where he would forgive himself for not taking his opportunity.
Jason sat by Clay’s side, a burning desire to never let his kid go filling him and leaving him drunk on the idea. Jason hesitated, not wanting to push Clay into contact again but Clay threw his arms around Jason. Clay as small in his arms, smaller than he remembered, and Jason held tight. Nobody would hurt his kid again, not as long as air filled his lungs or his body still worked. Clay shook, like a lamb, in his arms. When Jason relaxed his hold, fearing he would be confused with the officer in this moment, Clay tightened his hold.
“Jace.” Clay whispered in his ear, everything he couldn’t say understood.
“I’ve got you.” Jason promised “I’ve got you.”
The last thing he remembered was the sick feeling in his throat.
They had been ushered into a sterile room. The four white walls felt suffocating as Jason sat on a cot opposite Clay, both of them still in their filthy uniform. Lisa had disappeared somewhere along the way, and Jason knew there was a doctor outside waiting. Clay was sitting upright, holding his head high. To the outside world he would have looked entirely composed, but Jason could see the tells. The way his eyes were unfocussed and how he wouldn’t look Blackburn in the face, and how little he spoke and when he did, it was too monotone and controlled.
Blackburn was doing little to conceal his concern. “Are you sure you’re okay having the doctor check you out?” Blackburn asked again while he stood back and gave Clay space “I can get Trent to do it instead.”
Clay’s face flickered, shame clear, and he shook his head. It killed Jason that Clay was blaming himself or feeling some internal shame that was twisting the event in his mind to be somehow his fault. He could understand, on some level, why he was doing that but even still Jason wanted to scream at him. He needed Clay to understand nothing he did caused this, scream it until Clay accepted it.
“Okay.” It took a few seconds, but Blackburn nodded in agreement. "Clay, you don’t have to say anything or agree to anything you don’t want to.”
As if Jason would let anyone pressure Clay into anything. Then Blackburn left, leaving them in silence. Clay hadn’t spoken much, not that Jason blamed him, but it was abnormal and something Jason didn’t know how to handle. This, he realised, was becoming an unwanted theme in his life.
They sent in a female doctor.
“I’m Mia.” She said. She was small and unassuming, the perfect candidate for this situation. Jason wished he could get inside of Clay’s head, understand what he was thinking and feeling right now.
“Clay.”
Mia offered a smile “Can I clean your wounds?”
“You don't have to ask.” Clay insisted but his eyes never left her hands.
“I know.” Mia said. “I wanted to though.” Clay only has a few small cuts and Mia moved slowly as she worked, signposting everything she was doing.
“I’m not injured.” Clay said eventually “Just need a few band aids.”
“You won’t need stitches for this scrape.” A long cut ran down Clay’s arm but it was clearly not deep “I’ll bandage it for now and send you home with some spare. You’ll need help changing it and if the wound gets worse or shows signs of infection, you need to come back in.”
“We’ll be watching him.” Jason spoke up. When Bravo learnt what happened there would be a price to pay, and he doubts any of them will be able to settle without Clay in their sight.
“As long as you keep it clean you shouldn’t have any issues.” Mia replied to him “Honestly, if there are any concerns just come back in.”
“Our teammate is a medic.” Clay added “He’ll want to check it.”
For that to happen Clay would have to accept help. Jason doesn’t see this happening as already, his walls were being built up. A knock broke through their conversation, turning all of their attention to the doorway. Blackburn walked back in.
“Spenser. Hayes.” Blackburn said, walking in and sitting in a plastic chair next to Clay.
Mia finished wrapping the bandage she was working on. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”
Blackburn gave a polite nod before turning back to Clay, his brows pinched – maybe in pain, maybe not, Jason couldn’t tell. Blackburn has always been protective of the team in a way he didn’t need to be – he had genuine concern for them as individuals, not just as operators. He was a part of their family.
“I need to talk to you about what happened and how we’re moving forward.” He said to Clay “We can talk alone or Jason can stay. Up to you?”
“Jason can stay.”
“We need to discuss if you’ll be reporting this.” Jason had been so caught up in everything that had happened he didn’t consider the fact the nightmare wasn’t over. Trials, investigations, Clay would be questioned, he would be questioned.
“I’m not.” Clay said calmly enough that Jason double-takes his words. “I don’t want to.”
Jason couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Clay was going to do nothing, just let Baddeley go after everything. “What?” Clay flinched slightly at his words, which Jason didn’t intend to come out quite so harsh “You can’t just do nothing.”
“Excuse me.” Clay questioned “You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do Jace. This is my decision.”
“He tried to rape you.” Jason bit his tongue as soon as the words were spoken and hung between them like lead. Clay flinched again, his expression shattering – shame, fear, upset. “Clay, you can’t just let him walk away from this.”
“I can.” Clay stated “This is my life and career Jason. I report him, then what?” Jason didn’t have an answer “I’ll be questioned and everything I say will be picked apart. Why didn’t I fight back? My status as a Navy SEAL will be used against me. Why didn’t I say no? How can I be sure he intended to assault me when it could have been how the training was intended to go down?”
“Bravo would have you back.” Jason knew it was meaningless to try and that everything Clay was saying was true, and what would happen. Still, it felt like a betrayal to let Baddeley go.
“I can’t.” Clay’s voice shook. He looked truly pathetic standing there. Jason closed the distance between them and brought him into a hug.
“Okay.” Jason whispered “Okay. We’ll figure it out. I don’t want you going home alone tonight. Stay with me for now, please.”
The fact Clay didn’t fight him spoke volumes.
“Okay.” Clay broke his hold, quickly rubbing his eyes “I’m going to grab my stuff and meet you outside.” He turned to Blackburn for support “If that’s all?”
Blackburn nodded “Yes, you’re free to go. Lindel has given you the week off, if you want it.”
Clay didn’t answer him, just left the room.
“Shit.” Jason choked out “What the actual fuck Blackburn?”
“I know.”
“How did this happen?” Jason demanded “How did he shut off the CCTV footage? He’s done this before and now Clay isn’t going to do anything and he’ll do it again.” Blackburn’s jaw tightened “What is it?”
Blackburn sighed, rubbing his face “Someone scrubbed the CCTV footage. We have nothing and with Clay’s refusal to report there probably won’t be an investigation.”
“Fuck.” Jason whispered through his dread. What on earth was he supposed to do now?