Interesting Form

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: A free-falling escape from flames into water, leads Clay on quite the journey. These are missing scenes and an alternate version of the season two episode, 'Fracture'.

Anger, that's what he sensed…a lashing, hammering anger.

This raging inferno was alive with a mind of its own. Reaching out for him, it spit out unbearable heat and a rousing smoke that caught in his throat and slid down into his lungs. Through the flames, he could actually see it smiling – eager to incinerate his life.

"I've got a problem up here", he called out…and wondered how odd and out of place he must sound under these circumstances. A circumstance that was indeed quite precarious; more than precarious. If he didn't do something soon, he was going to suffocate and burn.

Poof, gone...nothing left of him.

Looking about for options he thought Boss must think him crazy. To his own ears, he sounded detached - unperturbed; as if he were still training in one of those enforced simulations they all had been regulated to over the past six months. Six months of attempting to bond the unit...without Ray.

However, the way he sounded and the way he felt were two different things. Because as the oppressive heat circled and then surrounded him, ready to suck up the air and render him helpless, he felt truly terrified.

Maybe Sonny's bravado had rubbed off on him, or maybe it was his newly minted number two status which had him under pressure daily to prove himself; to show Boss that he could lead…be the one who could fill the mighty large shoes of Raymond Perry…that gave off a vibe of confidence. A confidence he struggled to present in order to show Boss and the rest of Bravo that he could think quick on his feet; outside the box and around any situation.

"This is a problem." Clay whispered to himself, as he risked facing down the flames cutting him off from the oil rig's stairwell leading down to the team.

Eyes stinging, he backed off from the confrontational heat, located a clear path and began the climb up and away from certain death. Burning alive was not his preference.

Apprehension grabbed hold of him and he made the only decision he could. "I'll meet you down at the bottom!" he yelled over screaming flames; howling wind; and the crashing waves below – all competing loudly with his own voice to be heard.

And before he could change his mind, he was running full speed across the rig…his boots clanging on steel – Stella racing beside him; her complaint, "You're cheating", ringing in his ears – while she smiled and kept pace – her pony tail swinging side to side behind her.

When there was no more room to run, she stopped dead in her tracks, gazing out over the ocean…a horrified expression on her face; and then, without looking back - he left her behind. As he leapt into space – Clay wondered if he should have taken hold of her hand and brought her with him.

Out here, twelve stories above the ocean – the heat could not reach him, and for a moment he felt weightless; free of all his apprehensions. Shouting out a whoop, he let the sensation envelop him; and almost felt something akin to joy. A shot of adrenaline coursed through his veins.

Behind him, the rig burned – the violent flames stretching out over water, attempting to capture him and pull him back. Above him the sky was pristine – unbelievably clear; billowing clouds floating languidly…unaware of the carnage beneath them. Before him was the horizon – the bright sun making her mark, kissing that elusive margin where the sky left off and the ocean commenced.

What a rush he thought and breathed in the salty air as a gush of wind hit his face. He felt high and overwhelmingly alive. How messed up was this he questioned and laughed aloud.

Then he remembered where he was and saw below him the choppy waters; helmless fishing boats spinning in circles; and in the distance the Navy's Elite Boat warriors skipping across white caps to greet them for exfil.

Taking a deep breath, Clay prepared himself for the feet first entry and prayed there were no sharks in the water.

It was a shock to his body and mind when he hit the water. Not at all like in training; or what he expected.

First a sharp pain struck his feet and then settled into his ankles. Second, his head exploded as if he had run head first into a brick wall. Ears ringing, he cut through the ocean like a missile.

As he descended down into murky depths, Clay felt the ocean press all around him, and hug him mercilessly. The urge to take a breath was instinctual, but he held it in…Master Chief Siever's voice in his head, instructing him to "Stay calm."

Twisting to find his way up, Clay opened his eyes to see Adam at his side…air tank on his back – mask on, giving him the thumbs up. Pointing up, Adam gestured for Clay to get a move on. Tapping his watch, Adam drifted upward – his fins leading the way.

Clay began to kick. Time was of the essence. If he wanted to pass this test he needed to get going. Above, just past Adam's head, he could make out the sun glistening, as if floating on the surface…waiting. Blinking back the opaque light, Clay knew he could do this…make his way up to the surface and break through – meet up with the team; and go home.

Only something was holding him back – holding fast to his legs and try as he might, he could not escape it. Vision tunneling – the encounter of Ash just below him; hair willowy and wild spooked him.

Panic set in and he kicked harder, pushed his arms out to propel his way up; but Ash would not let go.

Why was he even here? Why was he making this so hard? Why couldn't he just let him go? Swimming should be fun – time they could spend together without hassle. Why did Ash have to turn everything they did together into a competition…into a lesson on survival...into something other than love?

But as always, Ash made everything complicated.

Frowning down at his father; lungs painfully tight and his head pounding from lack of oxygen, Clay could see the man's mouth moving – bubbles chasing their way up to the top.

How is it that he could even talk down here Clay wondered as Ash screamed through the warble of water, "Keep moving son!" his grip around his legs still vice like and unyielding…his face hard; a mask of will.

"One day, this lesson will save your sorry ass!" he bellowed.

Anger and resentment flooded Clay's senses. Kicking harder, he caught his father under the chin with the tip of boot. The firm hold on his legs loosened and in that moment he shot his way up toward the light.

When he looked back, Ash was ruefully smiling and rubbing his chin. Instantly he was lost to him descending down into the darkening depths.

Sputtering water, Clay broke the surface and came face to face with a friendly face yelling for him to, "Take my hand!" Reaching up he grabbed hold and bewildered asked, "Did I pass the test?" …then let unconsciousness claim him.

The roar of powerful engines and crashing waves roused Clay from darkness. The, up and down; zig zag movement of the boat had his stomach churning. Opening his eyes, he quickly covered them in order to avoid the bright sunlight. Head throbbing, he could feel bile rising in the back of his throat.

Groaning, Clay sat up and chanced a peek between splayed fingers. All his team sat around him on the rescue boat…alive and well. Relief overcame the sickness gurgling in his stomach as vague memories of being manhandled onto the boat assailed him, and then…nothing.

"You alright there Goldilocks?" , Sonny laughed and pat him on the back. "You look a little green."

As if on cue, Clay covered his mouth; swallowed, but could not stop the bile and water from spewing out between his fingers to hit the bottom of the boat in force. Exhausted, he leaned back and wiped vomit from his mouth. Clay breathed in deep…pleased to feel air now filling up his lungs. No whiffs of smoke trailing down his throat; no smiling flames eager to vanquish him…no more visions of Ash circling his prey. He was among friends. Clay laughed, and watched happily as everyone turned away from his mess and laughed with him.

"What a dive huh?" , Sonny continued as Clay nodded in agreement and welcomed his teammates reaching out to pat his head; his shoulders his legs. He was glad to see them too.

"You didn't answer the question." Jason interrupted.

At the sound of Jason's commanding voice, Clay sat up straight and felt the world tilt sideways. Ears ringing, his brain bashing into his skull; stomach doing flips; his feet stinging – Clay cleared his throat. I'm good Boss.", he answered…then moaned as the boat took a sharp right to bring them into shore.

"I can see that.", Jason commented, and turned away… relief evident in his voice.

Safely off the boat, Sonny reached down and scooped up a handful of dark, soft earth. Pressing it between his fingers he announced thankfully to anyone in hearing distance, "Solid ground!" Everyone was in agreement with his sentiment as they filed off behind him…weary and glad to have once again survived another mission.

Hopping off the boat to follow, Clay felt as if he were still under water. His limbs felt heavy as he took a step or two to keep up with the others. Suddenly, sharp; shooting pain traveled up from his feet and took residence in his ankles bringing him down hard to the ground.

Confused, Clay looked up to the sky and could see that he was no longer beneath the ocean. He should be able to get up, stand and walk his way to the hummer intent as he was to get to the C17 and then home. But for some reason, he could not move.

A hand squeezed his shoulder, and there was Boss … on one knee staring down at him; his expression puzzled.

"What is it?" he asked.

But Clay couldn't seem to form words to answer as the drum in his head wouldn't stop pounding; the bell in his ears wouldn't stop ringing; and Ash wouldn't stop yammering on about being a wuss. It was just too hard to compete with the noise.

And in an instant, without being able to protest, Boss reached down and slung him effortlessly across his shoulder. Promptly, Clay threw up again, and heard Boss say through the rumbling at his back. "It's going to be okay."

Waking to the hum of the C17 was always a comfort and felt no different now. Sighing, Clay opened his eyes and noticed right away that he was lying in a hospital bed in the on board infirmary.

"Home sweet home." , he thought, and looked down to find his feet elevated and a pressure boot wrapped around his right ankle. Other than bafflement about this situation, he felt exceptionally; extremely; very…very good.

"You have a concussion and a hairline fracture in your ankle there." , Boss pointed out.

Pushing his head back onto the pillow, Clay nodded and smiled broadly up at his Boss… feeling no pain. Instead he felt just as he did at that moment when he jumped twelve stories off that rig admiring the horizon. What a ride, he thought inwardly and laughed aloud.

Boss raised a questioning eyebrow at him; so he covered his mouth to not let escape the next laugh threatening to erupt.

"You're going to be fine. A few weeks of rest and P.T. and you'll be good to go."

Clay nodded again and studied his Boss closely. He seemed upset and obviously, wanted to tell him something. Frowning, he put on his serious face, waiting for Boss to say what was evident on his mind.

"That dive you took", Jason noted, "had an interesting form to it."

Clay thought about that moment again and promised himself to thank Adam later for being such a great teacher and saving his life.

"Don't do that shit again", Jason finished and turned away to welcome in the team.

Putting two thumbs up, Clay responded, "Roger that Boss." And as Sonny barreled in and sat at his side, Clay turned his attention to his friend, who sincerely wanted to know, "Did you see any sharks down there?"

Thanks so much for reading. I hope this was enjoyable. Please leave a review to let me know what you think. To those who I could not respond to, I wanted to say "Thank You" for reading and taking a moment to review 'Persona Non Grata'. Your comments mean a lot!