It was the way he had always wanted to go. In a blaze of glory, bullets raining down on him. Valor, honor, brotherhood. Clay wasn't sure how he should feel about it. A part of him proud. A part of him angry. All of him devastated... All in, all the time. It was really the best way to describe Sonny. His brother was a true frogman...was... that would take time to get used to saying. As he ripped another sheet out of the notebook he took a breath.

He wondered if Sonny knew what hell it would be to write this... his eulogy. Clay tried again. Stopped again when his tears blinded him...again. He wasn't sure how this task had fallen to him. He had done Swanny's... was this now his role on Bravo?

Was it now his job to write the last meaningful words spoken about his brothers? His heart hurt. His brain hurt. He had two more days to write this and there was nothing left to say. How do you sum up a life in a paragraph or two? How do you say everything the person was in a line spoken in front of an empty casket? How do you know you failed at the most important job you've ever had and still stand up there? He tore another paper from the pad and threw it to the floor.

The rest of the guys had known Sonny longer but Sonny had chosen him for this. He absently wondered if it had been done when he first joined Bravo. Maybe this was a 'fuck you' from before they were brothers. It seemed like a Sonny thing to do. It also seemed to Clay that any of them would have been better at this. Ray could talk about him being in a better place, Trent could talk of his loyalty, Brock of his selflessness, Jace could go on for days about him being a pain in the ass but the one you wanted beside you. Clay was at a loss for words even with six languages to speak from and another crumpled paper hit the floor.

He thought of all the moments with his brother. The laughter and tears that they would never admit to sharing. He was gripped with the crushing weight of knowing there would be no more. This would be his last. Writing this eulogy. Clay reached for the bottle of whiskey Sonny had given him on his last birthday and threw the entire notebook to the floor. He would write tomorrow. Tonight he would get good and drunk and remember Sonny.

Sonny with his brashness. Always willing to say what everyone else chose to think. Brutal honesty as he called it. Sonny with his loyalty, always willing to show up no matter when, where, or why if a brother called. Sonny with his Texas sized heart. He'd tell it like it was but he'd also consult Cosmo to help a friend. And now all of that was gone. Clay was sure he had ever felt more alone, not when Brian had died or when his father had abandoned him with people he hardly knew a world away. A part of him half expected a text or a call from Sonny telling him to 'buck up buttercup' but no such call would ever come again. He let the tears slide down his face as the whiskey went down his throat. He wasn't sure if the burning in his chest was from the alcohol or the overwhelming grief and he supposed it didn't matter as he finished the glass.

The pounding on his door hours later both startled him and for an instant made him forget. For a split second the only person brash enough to knock that way was Sonny... except it wasn't. Shuffling to the door he glanced around at the mess he had allowed.

"Clay, you answer your damn phone. That understood?" The words were out of Jason's mouth before he had time to see the empty bottles, take-out containers, and notebook papers scattered around. Before he looked at Clay and saw the disheveled heep that stood before him. His eyes rimmed in red, bloodshot and glazed over. His pants unbuttoned and shirt wrinkled from sleep. The pillow lines on his face. Jason's heart broke for what felt like the hundredth time in just a few days.

"Understood, Boss. Sorry I was uh asleep." Clay held the door ajar trying to shield himself and the mess.

"Passed out more like. You think I've never had this conversation before Kid? I've had it more times than I can count... mostly with him." Jason looked passed Clay into his apartment. "The guys are gonna be at my house at noon. I expect you there."

"Roger that." Closing the door was a relief. Looking to the clock on his coffee maker he realized he had about three hours to get himself together. To face the others. In the four days since Bravo 3 was lost he had managed to mostly avoid his other brothers. Turned in on himself and built up some of the walls Sonny had helped demo. The plane ride back stateside with a flag draped box was a mostly silent one for them all. It was nearly impossible but at least it quiet. Everyone else had gone home to someone or bunked together to avoid the isolation of grief but using the eulogy as an excuse for needing space he went home alone. He supposed his time was up now though.

Clay thought back to the time after Manila and how many times he had ignored his brothers, specifically Sonny. Technically he thought he could do that again. They were pulled from rotation and didn't really have to be anywhere until the funeral. Jason would kill him but as he looked at the whiskey bottle it was a real consideration.

Reaching for the discarded pad of paper on the floor he wondered if the words would come this morning. It was doubtful as he stared at the blank page before him. Tomorrow. Tomorrow he'd do this and there were no words just crumpled papers and an empty casket.