The thing about an unofficial, not U.S. military base consisting of tents, was its lack of a decent hospital. All this base boasted was an infirmary staffed by medics and an intern from – well, somewhere. And this intern, was a nervous ninny who panicked when a dopey, drugged, unresponsive Navy Seal who couldn't stop puking was brought in.

They reached base, were met by MP's and were escorted to command. Trent accompanied Clay to the infirmary, disobeying orders to remain with his team. He was not looking forward to the next eight or so hours and yeah, this was Clay, it would be that long. No way were they leaving the kid alone.

"Take care of him!" Sonny yelled. "Don't let no half-witted medic do it!"

The doctor hadn't yet arrived and the intern, in Trent's opinion - which meant it would be everyone else's opinion also - was a complete and utter moron.

"For Christ Sake!" Trent shoved the intern away from the table where Clay was sprawled on his back. "Give it here." He held his hand out, waggled his fingers for the needle, cursing the decision – since this had been a recon only mission – not to have flown with their doc, the doctor Jason had actually not taken an instant dislike to, so had been assigned to Bravo. Well, they knew better now. Never again. Not when they had Spenser with them.

"You cannot start an IV!" the intern squawked. "Not without a doctor's approval! You cannot think to do so. It is not done! Simply not done!"

Trent looked at Clay, who was still for the moment, chest heaving, stomach muscles contracting underneath his now soaked-thru t-shirt. He fought to keep his breath even and not start choking.

"Give. It. Here."

Trent snatched the needle port from the protesting intern. It wouldn't be long before Clay rolled over and started heaving again. He wouldn't be content to remain on his back for long. His head was rolling on the table, hair wet on his forehead, oh yeah, Trent knew the signs.

"Hold his hand." Trent ordered.

"You cannot insert that port into the back of his hand!" the intern gasped. "You must start with a proximal….."

"And if I blow the vein?" Trent shot back. He paused, drawing back, for he was sure the intern, who went pale and moaned when he heard those words, was going to faint and he didn't want the moron to hit him on his way to the floor.

He heard feet coming heavily, then his name. "TRENT!" the door opened and Eric was there.

"Hold his hand." Trent ordered. "Left."

Eric obeyed. "Jesus Trent, what did they do to him?" he demanded. "Jason said he was drugged! That's blood! No one said he was hurt."

"Blood isn't his." Trent didn't even look up. "Headshots."

"Jason?" he guessed. Aah, the basters who had picked Clay up and tried to carry him away. Yeah, no way Bravo would have left them alive.

"Ray."

Ray? Eric hadn't been expecting that. "I'm guessing he threw a reaction to the drug?" he questioned, watching as Trent found a vein and had the needle inserted before the intern ceased moaning. He tore the tape with his teeth, taped the port to Clay's skin and moved over to a cabinet.

"Of course he did." Trent went through the vials of medicine and selected the one he wanted. He wasn't neat. The intern complained as he hustled over to reset the bottles to their proper place. Trent held the vial up in one hand, a syringe in his other. "Do you really expect anything different?"

"Any idea what drug?" Eric asked. He gently pushed Clay down when he tried to sit up, stopped him from rolling over. Because if he rolled over, without pulling his weight back onto his hip, he'd roll right off the table. Trent would kill him, he let the kid fall off the table! "Spenser, hey, stay still."

"You gonna push this through, or am I?" Trent asked the intern. Good God, the man better pull it together before Jason and Sonny descended on the place. "I'm guessing a sedative, Rohypnol or the like."

"You can't just give him whatever you choose!" the intern flapped his hands in dismay. "We have to examine him and…what do you mean, you're guessing?!" he gaped, stunned.

"Fine." Trent tipped the bottle, inserted the needle, pulled the plunger back. "He's gonna heave." He warned Eric.

"Got him." he grabbed a basin, going around the clueless intern who still babbled Trent couldn't do what he was doing. "So, really, no idea how he's going to react, huh? Still just gotta guess with him."

"Just who is your superior?" the intern demanded. "I will see you disciplined. I will have you….."

"Right there." Trent pointed at Eric with the syringe before picking up the IV tube. "Easy kid, this'll help…..all's good."

The intern had nothing to say. In fact, under the intense glare Eric, whose rank he recognized by the insignia on his camo jacket, directed at him, he stepped back and stared at the floor. It was one thing for some Seal dude to come waltzing in and take over the infirmary like he owned it, it didn't matter if he knew what he was doing, he had no business taking over. But it was another for his superior to be right by his side, assisting him.

"You flying him out?" Eric asked. Clay was restless, no longer content to remain still on his back and Eric had no desire to hold him down. "Whoa there Clay, stay still."

"Don't wanna." Trent muttered. The needle he'd inserted had two lines and the intern finally pulled it together and hung a bag of saline. "That's gonna take a couple of minutes."

"He hurts, huh?" Eric said quietly. "Nothing really to do for him but wait for the drug to wear off, right?"

"Can stay with him. Let the guys see him. He's content, he sees someone he knows."

"McCall will have them released soon."

"Anti-nausea meds." The intern sniffed, holding the vial Trent had selected. "For vomiting." He pointed to the bag of fluid. "Keep him hydrated."

"Wow, you're all heart." Trent shoved him aside. "Stay out of my way. You think McCall will have much luck with Jason?"

"Ellis is there." Eric wasn't leaving. "So's Ray. And Delta's not back yet. Here, sit down, talk to me. Tell me what happened."

"Here?" the intern protested. "I think not. I must insist you leave at once, allow me to see to my patient."

"Your patient?" Trent snorted. "What the hell have you done for him?"

"Now see here, I hung his IV and…." the intern began, but Trent was having none of it.

"We aren't leaving him. Clean him up and leave him alone, you got that?" Trent waited. "You hear me?"

But the intern was not buckling under to Trent's authority, knew he didn't have to, Trent didn't out-rank him and this was his infirmary. He could have Trent removed and…..

"Petty Officer….." Eric waited. "Is there a problem here?"

"No, sir." He mumbled, staring at the floor. A Lieutenant Commander, however…

"Davis is having a doc flown in. He'll be here soon." Eric shoved a stool on wheels Trent's way. "Take a load off, you," he pointed at the intern, "Shut up. In fact, go away. I'll get some water. You want coffee?"

"Water's good." Trent said, swallowing several aspirin. "Thanks…..won't mind he sees a doc. He shouldn't still be puking up bile and fluid…..don't know why he is, where it's coming from. The blood is from his throat, it's irritated…..what the…..? HEY! The hell are you doing?" Trent was on his feet, swiping for the intern's hand.

The intern looked up, surprised by Trent's outburst. He held up the package he'd just opened in one hand.

"Obeying orders." He sneered. "Cleaning him up."

Eric sighed. "Trent, maybe you….."

"It is merely for oral care," the intern waved the pink sponge on a stick about. "Just a bit of mouthwash on a swab."

"Don't give him that." Trent snatched it from the intern's hand. "What's the matter with you? You stick that in his mouth, I'll punch you in the nose."

"Trent!" Eric scolded, because it was expected of him. Would Trent really punch the poor man in the nose?

"Jesus Eric, I had to stick my fingers down his throat to make him puke that crap out." Trent told him. "Stick anything in his mouth now, he's gonna heave. I'm not putting him through more of that."

Oh yeah, Trent would definitely punch the poor man in the nose.

"You ordered me to clean him up!" the intern objected defensively. "I'm doing what I was ordered to do."

"He's not holding water down." Trent shook his head. "And you know his gag-reflex." He said to Eric, who nodded. One of their favorite drinking games was to see who puked first…..usually Clay, because all they had to do was tease him into drinking from a straw.

Clay stirred, rousing to the tone of Trent's voice. His head rolled on the pillow, eyes opening…pupils still blown.

"Hey, I'm good." Trent moved into Clay's line of limited vision. "It's okay, you can go to sleep."

"He knows you're here." Eric said. "Doesn't come around though."

"Yeah, been that way since he went down. Long as he can see or touch one of us, he won't fight the effects of the drug. Came around once for Jason….just hate this. All the kid was supposed to do was eat lunch in a café."

"We didn't believe that." Eric rubbed his beard. "We didn't let anyone take him."

"I know." Trent picked up a pair of scissors to cut off Clay's wet t-shirt. "Just, the flight was hard on him. I know the doc cleared him to fly, but….." the intern took the hint and began to unlace Clay's hiking boots. "I'm not blaming anyone, but our boss has a hard time saying no to Ms. Ellis."

"You were against it." Eric guessed. "Him flying out so soon."

Trent shrugged. "I know him better."

"Then tell Jason," Eric ordered. "Or me. Jason would never choose Ellis and a mission over his team if it put one of you in danger."

"He just did."

"That's not fair." Eric reprimanded. "We agreed how to proceed with this mission. Spenser was not supposed to be in any kind of danger."

"But he was. Yeah, we stopped them from taking him, but not from drugging him." Trent waved a hand Clay's way. "This? You think this is okay? Yeah, he wasn't taken and tortured, but we ran on another team's intel and look what happened. I hate that."

"Murray brought Delta in, not Mandy. We did what we could Trent, Jason will always protect his men."

"Not always gonna be enough." Trent shook his head. "The kid is fucking miserable Eric, he shouldn't have to go through this because Delta fucked up."

"We had no way of knowing he would throw a reaction or suffer a side effect, hell maybe he's allergic."

"Jason...I told him...after our last mission...I mean, yeah, we're all snipers...Bravo, the team of shooters, Jason's the best, Ray has dead-on accuracy when he's pissed, but this kid, man...I mean, we can shoot whatever we aim for, headshot between the eyes, no problem, you want an eye shot out, Clay's your man, kid doesn't sweat."

"One of the reasons Jason selected him." Eric agreed. Oh, Clay had talent, no one could say otherwise.

"Our last mission...we knew he'd come after us, no doubt." Trent reached for the zipper on Clay's jeans. "What we didn't know is if he'd hesitate when he realized how young they were." he waited for the intern to remove Clay's second boot. "He didn't, just came steadily towards us, one shot, one kill...we're all high-giving and bam, the mother-fuckers try and blow him up."

"So, no giving him back, eh?" Eric remembered the entire mission. He'd sat miles away watching raw footage on a screen from a drone. Had lost comms, the picture too distant to see faces, just images. "Despite his ability to find trouble or get hurt wherever you go, he's worth keeping?"

Trent nodded. "He's part of us now." together, he and the intern soon had Clay comfortable and settled.

The meds took longer to take effect than Trent had thought they would, Clay making either him or Eric get up another three times before he finally calmed down, relaxing enough he eased into a light sleep.

"Jesus." Trent blew his breath out, hands interlaced atop his head. "Telling ya Eric, I don't ever want to go through another day like this one. Too hard."

"Not been an easy one." Eric agreed. "Go, get a shower, get changed, he's sleeping."

"You staying?"

Leave now, after Trent said Clay was only content when someone he knew was with him? "Yup, go on."

()

Clay stirred, first sense returning to him with any kind of normal behavior was his hearing…Credence's Bad Moon Rising played on a radio…..so either Sonny or Jason were nearby. He started to raise a hand but his skin pulled, drawing his arm up short, and he stopped with a frown, lifting his head instead to look down….IV.

"Hey."

Clay blinked, looking up. His sight was blurry, but he easily made out a hospital room…..correction, infirmary. Rails were up on either side of the bed and Jason casually leaned on the one to his left, fingers loosely laced.

"Know me?" Jason asked. "Tell me who I am Clay."

"Boss." Clay's tongue was thick, his mouth dry. Ugh. "Infirmary? What'd I do?"

"My name. Say my name."

Clay licked his lips, "Jason." he looked at his boss questioningly. Was he in trouble? What had he done?

"Yeah, what do you remember?"

His other arm wasn't restricted and he raised his hand to finger his damp curls, pushing his bangs off his forehead. He really didn't remember all that much. "The cider was sour."

"Anything else?"

Clay shook his head, then groaned. Ow, that hurt. "Everyone okay?"

"Bit on edge, been a long day waiting on you to wake up." Longer than even the doc had predicted. "They're all okay, job went sideways, but not your fault."

"Was I shot?"

"Drugged."

"Head hurts." He was quiet. His throat hurt, his stomach hurt, hell, his whole fucking body hurt, but he didn't say that. He tried to clear his throat, work up saliva, make his voice sound normal, but shit, that hurt too much. "Ow, what'd I do?" He laid his hand on his stomach. Christ, his belly was killing him, didn't feel like a gut punch, but man…he wouldn't be breathing deep or laughing anytime soon.

"Belly hurts, huh?" Jason lowered his head, buried his face in his hands. "You threw a reaction to whatever they drugged you with. Maybe an allergy, doc will let us know. Been a rough day, but you've been sleeping the last couple hours." Clay put a hand to his throat. "Yeah, hurts to swallow, huh? Gonna ache for a few days. Think you puked your intestines out. No lasting damage though."

"I'm staying here?"

Jason nodded, "Just until morning. Blood tests results will be back. Got you some ice cream, vanilla, but it'll be easy to swallow when Trent's ready to let you try having something to eat."

"Ice cream?" Clay shifted his weight, stopping with a wince. Oooch, didn't feel so good to move. "Over here? Wait, we flew out, right? Yeah, we did." he answered his own question. "We fly home?" He didn't remember a flight home. How drugged had he been? And for how long?

"Nope, still in Yemen."

"Well, well, well. If it isn't cutie pie." Sonny popped up next to Jason. "Look at those purdy blues looking all normal."

"Hey Spenser, good to see you awake." Lisa was with Sonny. "Boss, you still up?"

"Davis." Clay slanted a look Sonny's way. "Hey."

"Trent's still asleep, didn't have the heart to wake him." Lisa told Jason. "Ray went to find beer and Brock is with Eric filling out reports, so we're here to relieve you."

"Relieve him from what?" Clay was getting sleepy, didn't see the need to fight it and remain awake. His body was demanding surrender to oblivion and he really didn't see a need to deny it what it wanted.

"Babysitting you," Lisa said. "Go get a shower, lie down for a while Jason. You're beat." She waved towards the door.

"I'm good." Jason yawned. "I'll go help Eric."

"Brock is doing that. You were with command all evening, then came here." Sonny steered him towards the door. "Get something to eat and go to bed."

"They know he's awake, doc will be coming in to check on him, let me walk you out, give them some privacy, be right back Spenser." Lisa was saying, leading Jason from the room. Sonny remained.

"How much trouble am I in?" Clay asked sleepily.

"What?" Sonny mentally stumbled over the question. "Trouble? Why would you be in trouble?"

"Boss said, the job...failed."

"Not your fault. The blame lies with Delta. Dumb asses can't even survey a café." Sonny offered him a cup of water. "Guess you're allowed to have this. Don't see why it would be here, you weren't supposed to have it."

Clay took the cup with his free hand, drank from the straw and let Sonny take it back.

"How much do you remember?" Sonny asked. "You sure look better."

"Not much." Clay admitted. "Do I want to?"

"No." but his team wouldn't be forgetting any time soon. "We'll fill you in, doc's here to see you, then you can get some sleep."

Clay's last thought before falling asleep after the doctor was done poking and prodding was; if Bravo hadn't let him out of their sight after being blown off his feet, Stella better make up the sofa, 'cause this time, someone was going to be moving in.

If he'd seen Sonny's face, it might have occurred to him that he'd be moving in with one of them.

()

Two days later, they were all eating breakfast in the tent that served as the base's cafeteria. Clay was with them, eating scrambled eggs and toast with no crust, bacon still beyond his ability to swallow.

"You're cleared to fly Spenser." Eric joined them with a cup of coffee. "Ready to go home?"

Clay didn't have anything to say. He didn't feel like a hammock and he would get along any time soon, but if the team made the decision to fly home, he'd go without complaint. He went where and when his team did.

"He's not flying anywhere." Trent announced. "Until we can hang him by his ankles and he doesn't puke or pass out, his two feet are staying on the ground."

"Yeah," Ray agreed. "Want to see him swallow bacon before we leave."

"And bend over." Brock added. "He can't even crawl up the ladder into his bunk."

Jason was quiet, watching the tracks he'd made with his fork in the maple syrup on his pancakes disappear. Fly the kid home sleeping in a hammock? No chance in hell that was going to happen.

"Since we have to stay," Sonny said slowly. "See if we can find this asshole Ellis wants so badly."

Eric looked at Jason. "Your call. Doc says he's cleared to fly."

"Doc at home said the same thing." Ray said. "We landed, kid couldn't walk."

"He doesn't fly until Trent says he can." Jason decided, stabbing a stack of bite-sized pancakes. "Can you get us green-lit to go after Fahis?"

"You willing to officially state you're going after him because he tried to take one of your own? Tromp on Delta? Roll them under the bus? Take the mission from them?"

Sonny snorted. "You really gotta ask?"

"Are they even still here?" Ray asked. "They lost the mission, we ain't taking it."

"What about this moron Murray dude?" Brock asked. "We get Ellis, right?"

"He doesn't go, less Trent agrees." Jason pointed at Spenser. "I'm in."

Eric nodded with a huge grin. "Done. Paperwork's on my desk."

***END***