For SEAL Team Week Day 4, which had the prompts Trent or team bonding. This fills team bonding.
I mean, Trent's here too, but I'm pretty sure he doesn't want to be.

Set sometime in season one I guess, but it doesn't really matter.

The red countdown clock hits 2:00 and Jason's gut tightens with the realization that they aren't going to make it.

His team is trapped in this room, desperate to escape, and they're no closer to defusing the bomb than they were 10 minutes ago. They've completed the tasks laid before them only to be stymied when it really counts. When everything is on the line.

This group of men, his best friends in the world – who have beaten the odds time and again and who he trusts wholeheartedly with his life – aren't going to get out of this one unscathed.

He instinctively reaches for his firearm, but it isn't there.

There's nothing to shoot anyway.

The timer continues to count down, flashing now as the end draws near.

Jason feels completely helpless, struggling to comprehend how things could have possibly gone so horribly wrong.

"Where's Summer Kairos when you need him?" he barks in agonized frustration.

"Dunno, Boss," Sonny says, far too calmly for Jason's taste, given their current situation. "The hippie just kinda disappeared one day. Never came back."

Jason shoots daggers his way.

"I understand that, Sonny," he says through clenched teeth, forcing himself to remain calm. "It was rhetorical."

The Texan shrugs, shuffling sedately through the large ring of intricate antique keys in his hands. The faint tinkling sound of metal on metal created by the movement makes Jason's teeth itch.

"Who has the map?" Clay asks suddenly from where he's hunched over the old wooden writing desk in the corner, flashlight in hand, determined not to give up.

"Brock has it," Trent says.

"No, I gave it to Ray."

"What? I don't have it. I was in charge of the codex."

The clock hits 1:00.

"One minute, guys," Jason roars. "What the hell are we doing?"

"Look, Jace," Ray starts calmly and deliberately, like he's talking to one of his kids. "Sometimes it just doesn't work out. That's life, brother, and it's okay."

"It's not okay!" he snaps back. "We're looking at complete mission failure in about 50 seconds here. We're better than this. I believe in you. I believe in us. Together, we can do anything. We're Bravo!"

His rousing speech falls completely flat. He can almost hear the imaginary swell of movie music fade out as he studies his guys scattered around the lamp-lit room.

Ray's looking at him like he's lost his mind.

Sonny's using one of the keys to pick at his fingernail.

Trent's staring intently at the glowing clock as he shifts awkwardly from one foot to the other.

And Brock? Well, no one ever really knows what Brock is doing.

Jason makes a final, desperate attempt. "Am I the only one who cares that we're about to fail?"

"I care!" Clay's head pops up from the desk again. He has a smudge of ink on his cheek, and courage blazing in his eyes.

Bless him.

Jason knew he drafted the kid for a reason.

"I kinda just need to use the restroom," Trent says sheepishly. "And I'm thirsty."

"Do we get to have cake next?" Brock asks. "Is it chocolate or vanilla?"

"I hope it's chocolate with buttercream frosting," Sonny drawls with an indecent moan. "Oooh boy, nothing better in this whole wide world. I could just slather that frosting all over -"

"STOP," Jason chokes out, mouth left hanging open in disbelief.

These are not the men he's spent years training. What happened to the disciplined, fiercely loyal, never-give-up team he's accustomed to?

The countdown reaches its final stage, and they're beyond any hope. Once it hits 10 seconds, a piercing siren fills the air on each notch down.

9

8

7

Jason sees his life flash before his eyes.

6

5

4

He can't believe it's going to end this way. It was supposed to be such an easy mission.

3

2

1

And just like that, it's over.

The fluorescent lights overhead flicker on with a hum, and there's a loud click as the door opens.

"Dad?" Mikey's excited voice rings out from the room beyond. "Dad, come look! We did it. We got out!"

Jason emerges to see Mikey and his friends posing in front of a large painted wall emblazoned with COUNTDOWN ESCAPE ROOM in red, white and blue letters. They're holding signs that say things like "I Escaped!" and "Beat the Clock."

"Good job, buddy," he calls over, putting as much enthusiasm behind his voice as he can.

He feels eyes burning into his neck and he turns to see Alana and Naima staring at him slack-jawed.

"Wait, did you -" Alana aborts the question when a giggle bubbles out with it. "You didn't -"

She brings her hand to her mouth to try to cover the laugh, but he can see the glee in her watering eyes.

"Really?" Naima asks with bewilderment, eyes slipping to Ray behind him. "I mean, isn't this kind of what you guys do?"

"Oh, this is amazing," Alana hunches over, laughing so hard now she has to brace her hands on her knees to keep from falling over.

Jason rolls his eyes.

He thought inviting the guys to Mikey's birthday party would be fun. A chance to just hang out and relax.

And yeah, okay, maybe he wanted to show off a bit, absolutely certain they'd beat the all-time room record. Easy as pie.

Well, he was wrong.

So very wrong.

And now he'll never hear the end of it.

So much for team bonding.