Stand Up II

By: MusketeerAdventure

Summary: As Clay battles with his shattered emotions; his friends are there to help pick up the pieces.

A/N: Thank you for all of the wonderful reviews for part one of this story. A reviewer, Reilly – wrote, "I wanted to run over and hug him." That sparked something and so I added a part two.

Stella dropped her phone and barely heard the thud as it hit the floor and took a forward bounce.

Lowering herself carefully to the sofa, she covered her mouth with shaking hands; heart beating wildly in her chest. Her breath came in sporadic hiccups as tears streamed unbidden down her cheeks. Goosebumps spontaneously erupted on her arms; and a shiver climbed up her spine…so she hugged herself to stave off the chill.

"My God" she whispered to the empty room. "My God."

Swiping at her tears vigorously, she took deep cleansing breaths. In…out; in…out…attempting to get both her mind and body under control; so she could be of some use.

The call had unnerved her. When she answered, she thought it might be Clay – saying he had returned; wanting to come over, relax and watch some television. It was something nice they did together that was peaceful. Pick a movie; eat popcorn and recline in each other's arms.

Lifting her legs up on the sofa, she grabbed hold of her knees, placed her forehead there and closed her eyes. In this moment, the phone was her enemy. She didn't want to see it. It was a harbinger of bad news; the modern telegram – that from this moment on would give her pause every time it ringed.

Instead of Clay's voice; warm, eager…teasing, it had been someone else. Someone she didn't know; someone who had scared her, unsettled her…devastated her.

That someone had introduced himself quickly as Master Chief Hayes, asking for her assistance. Clay needed her help. Brian was dead. Some sort of accident she wasn't clear on as the Master Chief's voice became a buzz of words she couldn't understand. All she did understand was that sweet Brian with the bashful smile and dorky cowboy shirt was dead. How was that even possible, when she had just seen him the night before?

Staring across the room, she blinked to blot out the image; but it wouldn't dissipate. There he was; sitting right over there in her kitchen – pulling on a beer and bull shitting with her friends. Everybody liked him…had told her so when the party broke up.

Not everyone had the same opinion of Clay…but Brian. He was easy going; and fit right in. Her roommate Carrie was impressed; was attracted to his sensitive nature, had become friendly and wanted to see him again.

She could tell he had an 'old soul', was kindhearted; and was surprisingly protective of Clay. At one point during the evening, when he had gotten her alone; he asked her all manner of probing questions.

Where was she from originally? Did she have family? What was she studying? Was she seeing anybody, if so was it serious? She remembered laughing while he interrogated her; his eyes and tone quite serious. If he hadn't been so sincere, she might have been offended.

Instead, she reached for his hand and gave an affectionate squeeze. "I won't do anything to hurt him." she had murmured. Glad to know Clay had someone in his corner.

Brian had nodded then; and a strange, knowing smile appeared - as if he had figured out something and was pleased.

Stella rubbed at her eyes, Brian stood up – and the vision of him here in her home vanished. Pushing aside those memories, she grabbed the sofa pillow and embraced it as if it were a buoy, and her life depended on it.

"Clay needs your help", he had said. "He's not in a good way; and shouldn't be alone." Master Chief Hayes sounded grave; anxious and worried. "Can you help?", he asked. "Can I bring him by?"

Tears welled up again, so she angrily pressed down on her lids to make them stop; to stem the flow before they let loose and drowned her.

"Yes, yes…of course.", she had answered without hesitation. The phone burned a hole through the palm of her hand, so she hung up and dropped it to the floor. Burying her face into the pillow, she sat still as a statue and let the silence wash over her. Clay would be here soon.

Clay needed her help. But she needed help too.

This was so out of her realm of experience. She had never known anyone to die before so suddenly; so young – who she had just spoken to mere hours before.

What could she possibly say or do to comfort him? How could she help when in the back of her mind she was grateful? Devastated that Brain was dead, but grateful it wasn't Clay. Heat crawled its way up her neck, and then flushed her cheeks. A sense of shame swept over her. How could she be thinking of such a thing?

Somewhere tonight, Brian's parents; his family and friends, including Clay were grieving, while she sat here, yes…stunned; overwhelmed; remorseful. And yet, she had the luxury of relief.

It could have been Clay. The phone call could have been Master Chief Hayes telling her that Clay was dead. It could have been her on the other side. Her receiving notice that the man she had only met a few months ago was lost to her. The man who definitely knew how to make her laugh, who won over her skepticism; who she could easily fall for…commit to – was dead.

Stella stood swiftly from her perch and stalked the room; pacing back and forth on legs that trembled, threatening to collapse beneath her, give way and bring her down.

She needed to get herself together.

No matter what she was thinking; what hid in the shadows at the back of her mind; how hurt she herself was – she needed to press it down. Be there for Clay. Be ready when he came to the door.

It was painfully quiet in the cab of the truck; and the road leading to Stella's place surprisingly free of traffic. Every light showed green, so he drove slowly hoping the unhurried pace would provide some measure of calm.

Jason stole a quick glance at the kid and could tell he was barely holding it together.

Earlier they had greeted the team at the drop zone; and then followed close behind the transport with Brian on board to the base. Together they had waited outside the morgue; seated side by side in hard unforgiving chairs. The rest of Green Team appeared bit by bit – each taking a seat; their eyes bruised with dark circles and faces ashen.

Master Chief Siever came to wait also; and gave solemn words of condolence; but Jason could tell that Spenser wasn't listening. The kid never flinched; or acknowledged that they were even there. Only sat silent, with his elbows resting on his knees; his face a mask of weariness.

When given the opportunity to go in and say his goodbyes, he stood on unsteady legs; head bowed and shoulders hunched. As the rest of the team filed in, he waited at the door and seemed uncertain. So he stood too.

"I'll wait here for you", he offered. "When you come out, I'll be right here."

So he had taken that moment to call Stella. When he imparted the news, he could feel her shock through the phone. But she had said, "Yes" to his request. Clay needed her help and she had said yes.

And now that they were on the way, the oppressive silence was too much for him. The urge to say something, do something came over him. A flash of Nate hit him hard; and he gripped the steering wheel. He understood this level of grief; and recognized himself in Spenser's closed off nature.

Knowing how he kept Nate's death suppressed; unable to talk about him; recall with fondness the good times – how much he loved him; but could not share his grief ate at him every day and eroded something inside him.

That's not the way it should be. Unhealthy, the therapist called it.

So he ventured into uncharted territory. "Tell me about him", he whispered and could sense the kid tense up next to him; and look out the passenger window to hide his face. They drove on for a good mile or two before Spenser cleared his throat and shifted in his seat.

"Um", he began – swallowing hard; and looking up to prevent unshed tears from falling.

Silence descended, but Jason rode on, waiting – careful not to push; and up ahead could see Stella's apartment building. Gliding into the lot, he parked beneath a street light and turned to face the kid – who kept his attention peeled to the ceiling of the cab; determined not to shed a tear.

"Um" Clay continued, his voice quivering. "He was my friend. He was my best friend, and I loved him."

At that moment, on the balcony – a door opened; and they both looked to see light spilling out; a young woman standing within its glow….sending a slight wave to greet them. Removing his seatbelt and reaching for the door Spenser finally looked in his direction and nodded.

"That's Stella", he said softly. "I'd better go."

Stepping out the truck; he shut the door behind him, but did not move to meet her.

Jason lowered the passenger window and studied the kid carefully. Glad he was willing to open up but afraid too. "It's going to be okay", he said with conviction. Afraid to say the wrong thing; but compelled to say something.

Clay turned to him and gazed back with such trust; with such belief that his heart stopped for the briefest of moments. Steeling his emotions; keeping his face neutral he encouraged, "Go on. I'll see you tomorrow."

Clay nodded his thanks and a quick smile ghosted his lips as he turned away.

Sitting behind the wheel, under the street lights; Jason watched as the kid raced up the stairs in haste – two at a time. And through the open door could see Stella reach for him; grab hold – her arms around his neck and whisper words he could not hear from his vantage point.

But once said, Clay yielded to her compassionate kiss on the cheek; leaned heavily into her embrace and surrendered.

Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed Part II. Please leave a review to let me know what you think.

And thank you to everyone who read; reviewed; favorited; and clicked follow for Part I of 'Stand Up'. Your comments mean so much!