Jason dropped the doctor like a too-hot-brick. Released so abruptly, Dr. Dhar fell to his knees and Jason moved around him to lean on the rails opposite Trent.

"Hey." Trent had a penlight, was flashing it into Clay's eye held open by a thumb. "Spenser? You with me?"

"Mmmm." Clay tried to pull away from the light, but Trent held his head still by a firm grip on his chin. "Hmmmmm."

"You don't get to do that." Trent told him. He knew the light made the kid's head hurt, knew the discomfort from the invasive light piercing his optic nerve might make him nauseated, wasn't sure Clay was awake enough to fight it down, but he had to know if the kid could focus his eyes. "Hey, blink...blink...look at me...that's it...good."

Clay squinted, wincing as he again tried to pull away, ducking his chin with a shaky sigh. Trent hesitated then released him. The bruised forehead and stitches, though few, were enough to make the kid up-chuck if he resisted too much and Trent really didn't want him to do that. If the light bothered him, it was enough for Trent to stop. He knew the kid too well.

"Turn the light off." Trent told Jason. No way, did he want to start the kid puking. If that happened, they'd never get his transfer authorized.

Jason obeyed. Overhead lights in the ceiling remained on, but the immediate area around the bed went dim.

"Remove these men immediately." Dr. Dhar ordered the soldiers. "From this room, from this hospital, from these grounds."

"Go ahead, try it." Jason challenged.

"Sorry Chief." The soldier scuffed his toe against the floor. He didn't know Jason or Trent, but their arm patches identified them as Navy Seals and reluctant though they might be to interfere, neither of the Seals out-ranked the superior who had given them orders to obey the hospital staff. "Orders, you know?" but neither he, nor the three men with him made a move.

Jason and Trent were not causing any trouble and the MP's hadn't seen them do anything that warranted immediate removal so they just stood there awkwardly, not sure what to do.

"I have a patient to attend. You are in the way. Allow me to tend him." Dr. Dhar told Trent, motioning at Jason to step away from the bed. "You are not in charge here."

"In a minute." Jason stared the doctor down. "He's waking up and if you think I'm going to let you sedate him, you've got four soldiers to get past to even attempt it."

"Boss." Trent scolded. "Not helping." he took a step back from the bed, allowing Dr. Dhar to step closer. "The doc knows he's waking up, he's not going to try and put him under, are you?"

The doctor shook his head. "No."

()

"Well?" Ray demanded when Eric thumbed disconnect on the sat phone and handed it to Lisa. "What did McCall say?"

Eric rubbed his beard, finger-combed his hair. "He will contact the hospital's government contact. They will meet with you, doc. If you agree, they will authorize Clay's transfer to the base hospital."

The doc gave it some thought. "Basically an infirmary."

"Can he be taken care of there?" Sonny demanded.

"If he wakes up coherent, yes." He paused. "I don't see Mr. Spenser giving me a hard time. For one, Hayes won't allow it and for another, I don't see any of you being far away, should I need help with him."

"You mean, when." Brock corrected. "Trent said he can wake the kid up, he will."

"You boys put a lot of trust in your teammate," the doc mentioned. "Put a lot on his shoulders."

"That's why we went out and got you." Ray said dismissively. "Trent can handle it. One way or another, we all have something just as heavy on our shoulders."

There was a commotion out in the hallway; the overhead paging system crackled with a request they couldn't understand, raised voices were heard, the sound of people moving in response to the page.

"That can't be good." Doc said, getting to his feet.

"Jason." Said everyone else.

"Damn me, what has he gone and done this time?" Eric wondered, hands in his hair. He opened the door to the hallway and yup, four armed MP's jogged by. "STAY!" he ordered everyone. "Lisa, keep them in line."

The doc left with him.

()

Jason cursed, but obeyed Trent to more or less stand down and to stop pissing off the doctor, who for his part, stood slightly back and watched Trent bring Clay awake.

"Clay?" Trent waited, watching Clay struggle with coming out of his stupor. "Clay? Clay, listen to me. I know you can hear me." He was willing to give Clay some time, but time was short and they didn't have a lot of it. "Spenser!"

Ho-oh! Last and first name! Okay, I'm listening, just wish you'd stay still while you're talking. Really, do you have to move around so much?

"You don't feel so good right now, but that's just your body's way of dealing with the trauma. Next time you wake up, you're gonna feel a lot better."

Stop yakking.

"The doctor here wants to look at you."

I'm thirsty. My head hurts. Water?

"MmmmMMmmmMMmm." His eyes remained closed, but his lids quivered, lashes fluttered. His head rolled, turned away from the light across the room, cheek nuzzling the pillow as he attempted to bury his head.

"Hey, no matter how you feel, or what you don't feel, you gotta trust me when I tell you, you're okay. Don't listen to these foreign doctors, okay?"

Hey, not complaining, but Tent? Yeah, I don't think I feel so good.

Clay's tongue drew his bottom lip between his teeth and he bit it. This was Trent talking and he was saying something he should pay attention to….but the more awake he became, the more confused he was. His chest hurt….. it hurt. He thought Sonny was back to playing his stupid pranks and jokes and had piled Kevlar vests on his chest. He wanted them off. He raised a hand to move them, but his arm didn't work. Christ, how many had Sonny piled on? Enough to weigh his shoulders down, make his arms go numb.

Sonny's a fucking dick. Not funny.

"No, no…..you don't get to sleep." Trent tapped the back of his hand against Clay's cheek when he went limp, letting his chin dip towards his shoulder. "I need you to prove to the doctor you're awake and aware of where you are, who we are…..okay? Can you do that?"

Clay licked at his lips, tongue dry. He tried to shift his weight, but his body wasn't having any attempts at movement. Panic hit hard…..he couldn't move his hands? His arms? His legs?

"Heyheyheyhey…" Trent put a hand on one shoulder, Jason the other. "Easy. We're right here. You feel some pain, I'm sure, but that's a good thing."

Clay hissed, breathing in, breath holding as his eyes widened at the pain that first stabbed his hip, then flared down his leg. His previous panic over his inability to move, had become relief when he realized he wasn't paralyzed, now turned to dismay when he realized that, oh yeah, he could feel pain alright – he fucking hurt.

Yeah, hey Trent? Not a good thing.

"Ow….mmmmm…fu...ck." he groaned, breath hissing through his teeth. "OW."

"Sssh, you're okay." Trent wasn't too happy Clay was coming around so slowly. He was groggy and Trent didn't like that either. "Don't go back to sleep." made him briefly wonder if the doctors had already given him something. "Fight through it. Come on."

"I'm not." He muttered thickly. "Why? I...am...Shit…that…ooooh…..hur…hurts." he tried to pant through a wave of pain, but couldn't take deep enough breaths. "Mmmm…..owwwwwww."

"Yeah, we'll give you something for that. Just relax…you can move, not paralyzed, but you know that." Trent leaned on the rails, grinned down at him. "Cause you hurt, don't you?'

Denied permission to sleep by his team medic, he gave in, gave up, quit. "Hurt?" he licked his lips again, turning his head slightly in search of water. "This is fucking pain Trent…sorry Boss." He lowered his eyes when Jason loomed on his other side. Oh boy, he was in trouble now.

"For what?" Jason asked, hand out behind him to ward off Dr. Dhar from approaching.

"Disobeying." His eyes rolled, chest feeling like it was attempting to press him right through the mattress to the floor. "Leaving…..the Humvee." He wanted to raise a hand, feel for himself there was nothing on his chest, weighing him down. "I heard…gun shots…..couldn't sit there." But nope, neither hand would obey.

"We'll talk about that later." Jason said. "Most, you'll have to run hills, but Sonny offered to do it for you." He cracked a grin. "You can let him do that when Trent takes you out for lobster."

"Everyone…..okay?"

"Everyone is fine, don't worry about us….just dirty…."

Yeah, well, whatever happened, he knew his favored Advil liquid gel-caps were not going to ease this kind of pain.

"Doc, can he have some water?" Trent asked Dr. Dhar, who, momentarily surprised Trent had bothered to ask permission, didn't at first reply.

"Hey!" Jason snapped his fingers. "Talking to you."

"Jay." Trent sighed. "That doesn't help."

"He's just standing there like a…"

Eric and the doc burst into the room.

Eric came through the door, yelling at Jason to cease and desist, to calm down and let go of…...he stumbled to a halt, biting his tongue to shut his mouth when all he saw was Jason leaning on the bedrails, watching Trent try and keep Clay calm, who, now awake, was realizing it hurt too much to move.

"Clay? You're awake? Trent, he's awake?"

Clay blinked up at Eric, recognition slowly dawning and Trent high-fived Jason across the bed. Oh yeah, their kid was awake, able to recognize faces.

"Good God, you did it." The doc said in awe. "Mr. Spenser, welcome back."

Clay blinked, the voice not familiar enough for him to immediately recognize but before he could panic, Trent was holding a cup with a straw to his lips and he forgot all about people he knew but didn't know right now.

"Sips." Trent pulled the straw away, gave Clay a few seconds then offered the straw again, repeating the process until finally letting Clay actually take a full drink. "You with us? Huh? Can you tell me what happened?"

Clay wanted to rub his eyes, push his hair off his forehead but his arms still weren't obeying his commands to move.

"Uh, heard shots…knew there shouldn't be any shooting, went to see…..you guys were pinned down…..I cleared the field…something blew up." He paused. "Medics came, you told me not to move…" Trent was grinning ear to ear, yup, 'cause that was when the kid had squeezed his hand. "Gets kinda hazy…..loud, chopper…."

"You blew up." Jason told him. "Took a fucking year off my life, landing the way you did. Scared the shit outta us," another high-five between Jason and Trent over Clay's bed. Kid wasn't confused at all. Woot!

"That why I hurt?" he spoke slowly with a slight slur, but yeah, he was coherent. "Sonny…..didn't put vests on my chest?"

"Yeah, that's why you hurt. Gonna for a few days. Sorry, can't blame this on Sonny." Trent rubbed his eyes. "The more you start moving around, the better you'll start to feel…..won't hurt as much moving a finger. Tell me how you feel."

"Head hurts."

"Like a headache?"

"Like I whacked my elbow."

Dr. Dhar frowned, the man wasn't making any sense but that blasted meddling medic was nodding in complete understanding.

"Cause you hit it." Trent said. "Or landed on it. Couple stitches right here." He touched the bandage over the few stitches. "It'll ease once you get some sleep."

"We have medication that will help." Doc said. "You did okay on Skelaxin, we can try that again."

"Trent, got the okay to move him, long as doc here says it's okay." Eric said quietly. "You still good with that?"

"Doc will." Jason stated, pushing up off the bedrail. "Won't you?"

"Yeah, you've done enough." Eric snapped at him. "I don't know what you did, but you did it so get out there and tell your men the kid's okay, you got me?"

"I'll go with you." Doc said. "Give Trent and Eric a moment or more to convince Mr. Spenser these doctors mean him no harm, then I'll come back and stay with him while they examine him."

"We can do our examination without your assistance." Dr. Dhar said.

"I don't intend to assist you. I intend to stand right here where he can see me and watch you. He will cooperate much better if someone he knows is with him. You have the authority to demand and get the removal of a medic, but I have the credentials needed to remain and there's nothing you can do about it." Doc put a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Come Master Chief, let's go calm your men down before they forget they're gentlemen and trod all over poor Ms. Davis to get in here."

()

"You didn't miss anything?" Ray demanded. "You're sure?"

"There's always that possibility." The doc admitted. "He's going to sleep most of the time for the next several days, but other than hurting like hell, being sore and stiff, I'm gonna go ahead and confirm what Trent said all along…. he's fine. I'll authorize his transfer back to base. He'll be there by dinner. I do insist he stay in the infirmary until I clear him to fly home…..say, a week? Then, once he's home, depending on how well he handles the flight, I say, seven days before he can fly again."

"That's it? Two weeks? Just like that? He's fine?" Ray stared. "He gets blown up, lands on his fucking head and you're all, eh, he's okay, he'll sleep it off? Are you FUCKING kidding me!?"

The doc spread his hands, shrugged. "He has a headache but no concussion. He's in some pain, will start him on an IV to administer an antiemetic in case he doesn't respond well to the pain meds we give him, but, well, I can't explain any of it."

"Do you have any idea what we thought? How we felt? What we went through?" Ray was stunned. "What this day has been like? We don't even remember day becoming night, passing into day, and you're saying, 'cause I wannta get this straight, that because he woke up, he's gonna walk out of here?"

"Well, he'll go on a stretcher, maybe a wheelchair, but that's doubtful. Too soon, I guess. Even for him."

"I'm gonna kill him." Ray fumed. "Where is he? Let me at him!"

"He thinks we smother him now, just wait 'til he tries to breathe through a pillow." Sonny threatened. "See how he feels about us smothering him then."

"He woke up, just like that?" Brock questioned doubtfully. "Trent just went, 'hey Clay, wake up' and he woke up?"

"Tell you what, Jason Hayes stood over my bed looking like that, ordering me to wake the fuck up, I sure as hell would fall into that coma everyone said he was in." The doc waved a hand at Jason, whose appearance; dirty, unshaven, dried blood in his hair, on his face, his hands, cuts, scrapes, abrasions all left untreated, eyes bloodshot and red and dry and swollen; would convince any kid that: yeah, there was a monster under the bed; a troll really did live in the closest; the boogeyman did exist; the sandman being a good fairy was a myth. "But not Mr. Spenser."

Jason scowled.

"You haven't slept in over twenty-four hours." The doc pointed out. "Cat-napping upright in these chairs doesn't count." He added before Jason could say, he had too slept. "You were alert for any noise, any presence entering the room…anyway, I somehow doubt all Trent did was ask him to wake up." He looked pointedly at Jason, who shrugged.

"They wanted him awake, he's awake." Jason wouldn't call Trent out on his methods. He always got results; that was all that mattered.

"Boss?" Ray questioned. "Something we should know?"

"Trent can be rough, you all know that."

"Mean." Sonny corrected.

"They said he wouldn't wake up, he did. They said if he did, he'd be a vegetable, he's not. He's awake, he knows us, Eric said we can take him out of here. Anyone has a problem with Trent, tell me now." Jason waited, dared anyone to argue with him further.

"Why'd you go and say something like that?" Brock demanded. "We're all tired, no one is thinking straight, no need to bite our heads off."

The doc's eyes widened. Challenge the team boss like that? Oh-oh.

But Jason sagged, shoulders slumping, head going down. Mandy moved to hug him and after a moment, he hugged her back, holding tight, chin atop her head as he apologized to his men.

"I'm sorry." He let his eyes close. "Sorry."

The doc dusted his hands. Would he ever figure this team out? Probably, since he'd be with them a lot. Then again, since they were so close to only one another, maybe not. "I'm going back to stay with him, get this examination going. It'll be late this afternoon before he's ready to be moved."

"We want to see him." Ray said. Late this afternoon? Would he ever know what took so long with these tests and exams in a hospital? Probably not.

The doc nodded. "You can look in on him, then you all need to go back to base, get some sleep." He pointed at Jason. "You report to the clinic and let one of the medics on duty clean you up. The kid's okay, no excuse for you to ignore me now."

Jason let go of Mandy, rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. No matter what he wanted, what he thought, his team came first. And to lead them, help them, keep them calm, he needed to see to himself so he could do that.

"Fine." Jason nodded. It was going to be another long day. Despite what the doc said, no one would get any decent rest until Clay was out of this hospital, away from these doctors who apparently didn't know jack shit and back on base. With them. "You're staying here." it wasn't a question.

"I won't leave here until Mr. Spenser does. I'll be on the transport with him."

***000***

Clay wasn't immediately granted medical clearance to fly home.
The entire team stayed with him.
Bravo went on their mission to round up Mandy's target without Clay.
Eric went with them.
Lisa ran command alone.
Mandy babysat Clay.

Clay remained in the infirmary. Each day, he gained more mobility, ached less, stayed awake longer, took less pain medication. Daily hot baths, short walks and massages enabled him to bend, stretch, lift, squat days before the doctor had expected such activity from him and the doctor declared him fit to fly after seven days.

Yeah, no.

He'd argued against boarding the plane on a gurney, insisted he was capable of walking on his own and neither the doc nor Trent disagreed. The issue, they insisted, wasn't how far or how well he could walk without wincing or hissing or cussing in pain. It was the 15 plus hour flight home….either in a rubber net seat or a swinging hammock.

Take off was bumpy, the beginning of the flight rough as they climbed to cruising altitude. Minutes later, Clay was alone, the guys off on their own. Though the doc was nearby, he'd dozed off. Clay should know he could easily wake him, but yeah, he wasn't thinking clearly.

The higher the plane climbed, the worse he felt.

His ears wouldn't pop, his head felt like he was underwater, the pressure building behind his forehead. Most likely from his ears not popping, but all he knew was, he was fucking miserable.

Teeth gritted, hands clenched into white-knuckled fists, he thought about getting up, finding Trent. He wasn't strapped down, could get up and walk if he wanted to but he didn't think he could even sit up if he tried.

Eh, what the hell…..he'd try….he did…he didn't make it...didn't even clear his head from the pillow.

Whether it was the pressure or the atmosphere, the decreased oxygen levels, whatever, Clay was uncomfortable and soon couldn't hide it. Cerberus whuffed in his face, licked at his cheek and padded away.

Seconds later, Trent squatted down next to him, the gurney lowered as close to the floor as it was capable of going.

"Hey," he just looked. "Happy you're not in a hammock?"

"Sucks anyway." Clay shifted his weight.

"Head hurt?"

"No."

"I meant, do you feel the pressure in your ears?"

"No." he swallowed, paused. "My chest." The pressure in his ears and head didn't even exist compared to the growing pain in his chest.

Trent hesitated. "I can give you something that will make you sleep, hold you for about four hours….can go on oxygen, see if you adjust any better, might feel better when you wake up."

Clay shook his head.

"Not the time to be macho here dude." Trent grinned. "Just cause doc said you could fly doesn't mean it's gonna be easy on you." Or us. "You're gonna ache for a month or better…take what I offer to make this flight easier on you." And us. "Get some relief." For all of us.

"Problem?" Jason asked and now all five Bravo stood around him.

Damn dog just had to go and get everyone. Clay grunted when Cerberus jumped on the mattress and got comfortable between his feet.

"He's not feeling to good." Trent told them. "He's okay, just the decreased oxygen levels as we go higher make it hard for him to breathe. Pressure's building and he's a stubborn ass."

"What can we do?" Ray asked. God, he wasn't selfish, but he did not want to hear they were turning around and landing back on base. He wanted to go home.

"Can give him something to help him sleep." Trent said. "Yes, something he's had before that won't make him sick, geesch." He added, knowing the argument someone would throw in his face. He stood up. "Will hold him about four hours, put him on oxygen, see how he feels when he wakes up."

"I'm okay." Clay insisted weakly, but he couldn't stop his hand from rubbing his chest. "Maybe not so much."

Doc was awake but didn't butt in. He watched Trent fill a syringe from a bottle out of a green duffel and give Clay the shot in his arm. Trent put the rails up on the gurney that was secured to the floor with brakes and straps then offered Clay the oxygen mask.

"Just try it." Trent encouraged when Clay was reluctant to take it. "See if it helps. Might not. Okay?"

Clay took it and held it a moment before putting the mask over his face. Trent didn't attempt to take it from him and put it on properly until the sedative kicked in and he was asleep.

"Is he good?" Sonny asked the doctor.

"He's fine." The doctor assured them. "Don't look so worried."

"Kinda hard not to worry." Brock bounced a tennis ball for Cerberus, but the dog didn't even open his eyes. "He was doing good and now…..." he put the ball away, gave the dogs ears a scratch. "He's not."

"It's the flight Brock." The doc said kindly. "Rather soon to be flying home, but everyone was eager to go…..Spenser most of all….there's no need to fuss."

Clay asleep, the guys moved off, returning to what they'd been doing before Cerberus had come over to nudge Brock out of his seat, leading him back to Clay.

Don't fuss? How was that supposed to be accomplished? Jason took a seat in one of the nearby rubber seats. His back against the wall of the plane vibrated with the plane's humming but he was comfortable for the time being.

What a fucking week – two weeks.

Brock had been injured, Mandy nearly kidnapped, Clay injured, Brock nearly killed, the team ambushed, Clay blown up, all of them nearly killed.

The mission to bring in the man who Mandy believed could give her intel and a lead on her priority target, Taha Fasih, had finally gone off with no further complications, but it had been a bust. The man knew nothing. So, this whole mission, this entire trip...a waste of time.

Hours in the hospital, waiting, wondering, wishing…..praying. Had kicked him in the gut. Taken him down. And then…and then he'd been told, eh, kid's fine, sore, bit bruised, he'll be up and walking, back on missions in two weeks.

God! God Damn! How many times could he keep going through this?

"Kid's making it a habit." Eric sat down next to him. "Don't see retirement any time in our near future. Not with him around."

"Why is it, every time I look at that kid all I see is a flash-forward replay of him flying off his feet and landing on his head and not the moment he opened his eyes and said Boss?"

"Maybe 'cause you thought him tucked up safely in the Humvee?"

"I know better." Jason sighed, "I let him out of my sight and I don't know what to expect."

"Would you rather have had him just stay where he was?" Eric asked. "You took him with you on the mission, so yeah, even though you left him in the Humvee, you didn't leave him behind. There was never any doubt he was gonna come to your rescue if you needed him."

"We usually have to rescue him."

"Never a dull moment. Just remember, you wanted him. You all did."

"Not denying that." Jason laid his head back. "The doc thinks he's gonna be good to go in seven days. I've been through this, next mission, time comes to even think about letting him out of my sight..." my belly will revolt, my palms will sweat, "...my issue, I gotta work on it."

"Mandy's already on the next mission." Eric gave his shoulder a friendly punch. "I'm always here...Get some sleep."

Jason waited a bit longer, but Clay had succumbed to the pull of the sedative and was quiet, so Jason sought his hammock. He somehow doubted once the sedative wore off, Clay would remain asleep, and if he were awake, he wouldn't be settled or content if alone...so, might as well get some sleep while he could.

Clay might be ready to go in seven days, but Jason wasn't so sure he would be.

***END***

So, someone left a comment that got me thinking and though this isn't exactly what they meant, this song came on the radio…and BAM! So, up next…..'Hold on, I'm coming'.