AN: I'm not going to waste your time with an apology for taking so long to update. I'm just going to say that I hope you enjoy this chapter.

Chapter 10 – Processing

Remote Special Forces Base – Afghanistan

"Home sweet home, boys." Viper called as the Humvees rolled into the remote camp they called home.

Sam sighed and looked out the window as the Humvees rolled through the gate. Noting increased activity near the barracks his brows furrowed. "We getting company?"

Viper looked in the direction of the barracks and smiled. "Yeah, our British counterparts are going to be hanging with us for a while."

"Cool." Sam climbed out of the Humvee and passed his gear off to Matt.

"Gotcha covered. I'll grab you dinner and have it waiting in the barracks for you when you're done." Matt smiled softly as he slung Sam's rifle over his shoulder.

"Thanks, Matt." Sam glanced at the soldiers moving gear from a truck to a tent as he passed. He wondered if the units would be in camp at the same time long enough to make new friends.

"Thanks for helping him out." Viper commented as he grabbed Sam's pack from Matt.

"I don't mind one bit. He carries a lot on his shoulders, being the sniper and all." Matt drew in a deep breath. "Each kill is just as hard to swallow as the first, no matter how evil the target was, or how much he seems good with it."

"I know what you mean. I'm just glad he's found a way to process his emotions. A healthy way at that."

"Yeah!" Matt chuckled. "We won't ever have to worry about him passing a PT test will we?"

Viper busted up laughing at that. The way Braddock goes at the punching bag after each mission requiring him to kill a target… No, we won't ever have to worry about him passing PT. Following Matt into the tent, he got to work stowing gear and preparing his weekly report for General Braddock.

Sam was pounding away at the punching bag when he saw the Brittish SAS Soldiers leave their tent, clearly geared up and ready for a mission.

"Yep, not making new friends tonight." Sam breathed heavily as he wiped the sweat from his brow.

As his stomach grumbled he realized that he needed to head in for dinner, a shower, and some much-needed sleep. Picking up his shirts he strode towards the tent where his unit lived.

"Do we need to replace the bag yet?" Bear asked teasingly as Sam sat on his bunk and prepared his MRE.

"Not yet, but it probably will need to be replaced soon. Especially if your ugly mug goes at it again." Sam smirked and ducked the towel thrown at him.

"It'll probably break just so it doesn't have to look at your face," Matt added as he ducked out the door on the way to the restroom.

"I'm not that ugly!" Bear growled.

"Tell that to, what was her name? Was it Megan, Marcie, no… Maria!" Spartan added before kneeling behind his bed, supposedly looking for something important.

"Oh, like you're any better. I saw that group of women you disappeared with on our last leave." A half smiled appeared on Bear's face as a mischievous glint entered his eyes.

"Oh, the sisters! Yeah, they dumped me before we made it a block away." Spartan stated as he plopped down on his bed with a book. "Some British guy introduced himself on our way to the car and they left with him instead. I guess they liked his accent better."

"What is it with them and trying to take what belongs to us." Spartan wondered aloud. The entire unit knew he was teasing. He gave the Brits a hard time whenever they were together, and they always returned the favor.

"I guess they're still sore about us declaring independence," Sam said with a straight face and deadly serious.

The room was silent for a whole five seconds before erupting in laughter. This was the scene Matt walked into a minute later.

"What now?" Sitting on his bed Matt passed a Gatorade to Sam.

"Just picking on the SAS again," Sam answered with an appreciative smile.

"Don't we have anything better to do?" Matt laid back on his bunk, one arm behind his head as he looked up at the roof of the tent above him.

"Never," Oracle answered as he tossed the remains of his MRE in the trash.

Viper's satellite phone chose that moment to ring, causing the tent to descend into silence as each man settled into their bunks. As they listened in on the conversation each became aware that another mission was looming on the horizon.

Their suspicions were confirmed when Viper hung up the phone and turned to his men.

"You might as well go to sleep now. We leave on another mission in eighteen hours. Briefing at zero nine hundred tomorrow."

The unit men each acknowledged the information before settling in to get some much-needed rest. As Sam closed his eyes he was thankful he wasn't seeing his targets head on the back of his eyelids this time. Beating the crap out of the punching bag really helped. As he fell asleep he offered up a silent prayer of thanks for Matt and all his friend did for him. Sam didn't know what he would do if something ever happened to his best friend.

Drifting off to sleep Sam dreamt of the last time he and Matt got away for some R&R and the fun they had. He enjoyed his first night of deep, restful sleep in a while.

Three weeks later Sam was quieter than usual on the ride back to base. The mission they had just completed went haywire and the outcome was not what any of them had wanted. However, the greatest impact was on Sam.

After spending three days alone in a sniper perch the unit received orders to move in on their target. While doing so Oracle was attacked by multiple targets. When Sam noticed that their techie had been surprised and was engaged in battle with multiple assailants he quickly targeted and took them out. However, as one fell the covering over his face fell off and it was evident that he was just a kid. The realization of that hit Sam hard, causing him to actually hurl once the adrenaline ebbed away.

Matt and Bear watched Sam closely the entire ride back. It was clear to the entire unit that Sam was having trouble processing the kill. No one liked the fact that the terrorist recruited boys to do their bidding. However, if Sam hadn't fired there was no telling whether or not Oracle could have killed them before being hurt or killed himself. Everyone, even Sam, knew that it had been the right call. But that didn't make it any easier to handle.

"I've got it. Go." Matt said quietly as the vehicle came to a stop, his hand on Sam's rifle.

Sam swallowed hard as he simply nodded his head once before bolting from the vehicle, making a beeline for the outdoor workout area with the brand new punching bag. He strode straight for the object and began pounding away at it without even bothering to wrap his hands or remove his dusty uniform shirt first.

A while later Sam took a step back from the heavy bag, bent over placing his hands on his knees, and sucked in deep, ragged breaths as he dropped his head to his chest and allowed a few tears to fall. His knuckles were sore from punching the heavy bag for so long without any protection, his arms felt like lead, and he couldn't catch his breath.

Stumbling to a nearby bench Sam dropped onto it, bent over with elbows on knees, and closed his eyes. The face of the young boy flashed in his mind and he quickly opened them again, willing the image to dissipate.

He looked around, searching for anything to take his mind off of the young life he ended. That is when Sam noticed that he wasn't alone in the workout area. On the sparring mats not far away two of the British soldiers were engaged in hand to hand combat training. Sam recognized the skinny, brown-haired man as the SAS sniper. He had seen the man carrying the tell-tale riffle case and ghillie suit on occasion when they passed in the camp. However, he hadn't actually met the man yet.

Sam watched for several minutes as the two circled each other. From the angry movements of the sniper, Sam could tell that their mission hadn't gone that well either. Looks like it's not a very good day for snipers. Sam thought as he watched the sniper throw the other soldier harder than really necessary.

Turning around, putting his hands on the top of his head, and sucking in breaths the other sniper began to pace. As he turned his eyes met Sam's and each could read the pain in the other's gaze. A long moment passed before Sam nodded once then stood and strode towards his barracks.

Twenty minutes later a freshly showered Sam sat at one of the two makeshift tables the units had set up in the center of the tiny base under the cover of a tent with mesh sides. Slowly and methodically Sam took out his rifle, disassembled it completely, and began to do a deep clean and maintenance of the weapon.

Although thoroughly focused on his task Sam knew the moment the British sniper sat at the other table and began a clean of his own rifle.

"We haven't met yet. I'm Sam Braddock." Sam stood and stepped towards the other man, reaching a hand out in greeting.

"Mick Rawson. Nice to meet you, Braddock." Mick shook Sam's hand and each smiled. "You a sniper?"

Sam laughed. "Yeah, but you knew that. Just like I know you are a long distance marksman too."

"Right … rifle." Mick gestured to his own weapon lying on the table.

Sam smiled and went back to the table where his weapon was disassembled. "Been a rough few days, huh."

"You can say that again." Mick drew in a deep breath, held it a moment, and slowly let it out. "We've been going nonstop since we got here."

"Us too. The days have been long and hard."

"Don't forget dusty."

Both men laughed. From there the conversation was lighthearted as both men went about their task. Neither saw their commanding officers watching them. Both had been concerned for their sniper after the missions each had just completed. But watching the two getting to know each other, and laughing often, they knew the snipers had made a new friend, and each would be just fine.

They were brothers in arms, and that would forge a bond no one could break.

AN: I hope this makes at least some of you smile :D I can't wait to see what you think of this chapter in the reviews!