Chapter Text
"Nobody has ever measured, not even poets, how much the heart can hold." - Zelda Fitzgerald
“What's the plan here, J?” Questioned Ray as he wrung out his soaked shirt, letting the water drip between his fingers and onto the floor. His 2IC rested a steady hand on his shoulder, offering to take some of the burden Jason was carrying.
Jason’s shirt is soaked through and clinging to his skin uncomfortably. The abandoned shack they were in could barely be considered stable, but it was bearing the brute force of the storm they were in, so it would have to do until Jason sorted this shit out. Sometimes, Jason wished operating would just be easy.
This operation was supposed to be easy – in and out, a few hours at best, easy. Except nothing with this team was ever easy. Finding themselves in the middle of a downpour, which felt more torrential than anything, was not ideal. Part of Jason questions how Lisa missed this, but Clay had assured him that the weather in this region was unpredictable, so Jason staved off that annoyance.
The metal had been worn down by nature over the years, and with each gust of wind, the structure creaked. Part of Jason was concerned it would fall down on them. They were running out of time. Exfill was scheduled for an hour from now, but that plan had assumed they’d be walking right now instead of hunkering down. Worse yet, their connection to HAVOC was down.
Jason pulled his dry shirt on, thankful that Lisa had insisted they all bring spare clothes, despite never normally doing so, “Working on it”
“We could try and wait it out.” Ray suggested, though he didn’t seem to believe his option was an option. “We can’t risk going out. If we end up in a fight, we’re fucked. I don’t know about you, but I’m struggling to see fifty feet in front of me.”
Jason packed the bin bag containing his wet clothes into his pack, debating the options. Nothing he was coming to was good enough. Jason tapped his fingers against his thigh and sighed.
“Well, this place is a shithole.” Sonny grumbled, “I told you we shouldn’t have gone here. Jungle, check.” Sonny’s first finger pointed as he started counting, “Torrential rain, check. Drowning on dry land because of the rain, check.” As if proving his point, water dripped from the ceiling and landed on Sonny’s face.
Jason rubbed his forehead, but his words had no heat in them, “Shut up, Sonny.” He loved Sonny, he did, and usually the man’s grumbles were entertaining or the source of ribbing – but not after fourteen hours in the rain.
Sonny grinned, “Can’t believe Brock faceplanted.”
On a particular steep section of the mountain, Brock had lost his footing and fallen down – literally on his face. It could have happened to any of them, and in that moment, Jason was more worried about Brock falling off the edge of the mountain. Trent and Brock were sitting on two wooden crates a few meters to Jason’s right, checking his ankle, but Brock had managed to walk his way here fine and without a limp.
“Do I need to remind you of the fact you nearly faceplanted half an hour ago?” Ray raised an eyebrow, managing to settle Sonny mildly. Though in Sonny terms, that didn’t do much.
“It was a tactical manoeuvre.” Sonny quipped back, “I was in an exposed area and had to quickly get lower to a place of cover.” Sonny’s attention drifted away as he spoke, narrowing on a spot behind Jason, before flicking back.
“Was it now?” Ray asked.
“Yes, it was in fact.” Sonny confirmed, his gaze wandering again.
Jason rolled his eyes, trying to block out their conversation so he could think. Though thinking felt futile with the pounding above them. Rain shattered against the metal like bullets, and the sound penetrated his ears painfully, especially after hours of operating.
Then, Jason realises that Sonny’s been a little too quiet for a little too long. Sonny’s standing in the same place next to Ray, both of them physically fine, except Sonny’s been distracted by something in the distance, and Ray’s staring at Sonny like he’s a puzzle that needs solving. Through the darkness, Jason could just make out what had caught Sonny’s attention – Clay.
The light that seeps in from the entrance is dampened by the time you reach the back of the structure, particularly because of all the empty wooden crates that uselessly fill the space. In the dimmed environment, Jason can just make out Clay standing with his back facing them, pulling his soaked shirt over his head. As he does this, Sonny watches.
Jason’s gut twists uncomfortably. Something unnameable, almost protective, fills him as Sonny watches Clay change. As Clay changes, the muscles in his back move, which Jason’s seen a thousand times and never registered, but now it felt different because they’ve enchanted Sonny in this brief madness.
Jason isn’t stupid. He knew before Sonny and Clay did that whatever they had was more than friendship. He suspects that Clay understands the depth of his feelings, and possibly Sonny’s, but he knows that Sonny remained completely unaware. These moments where Sonny gets distracted by Clay are becoming more frequent and lasting longer: changing from fleeting, stolen glances to direct staring when Clay can’t see.
Something about the action sets of Jason’s instincts and his need to keep Clay safe, but then he feels ridiculous about it – Clay's not his child, and Sonny’s not being a threat. Sonny’s looking, but the actions stripped of the leering Sonny reserves for strippers, which Jason’s personally seen and can therefore see the distinction. It’s softer, more flustered.
Sonny blinked, continuing to stare at Clay, but didn’t seem to come to any realisations about why he would be doing that. Still, the persistent nagging in Jason’s gut continues. It’s not that Jason is against Sonny as a person; he just wants Clay safe and happy and isn’t sure Sonny is the right person for that. Clay’s stupid when he’s in love and too often hurt, and Sonny’s never held down a stable relationship once in the entire time Jason’s known him.
Frowning, Jason inches closer to Sonny and gently grabs his jaw, turning Sonny’s face away from Clay. Jason glared at Sonny, using the same ‘disappointed team leader’ glare that usually makes all of his men fall into line. Sonny had the decency to flush, looking thoroughly embarrassed – which Jason considers a feat when factoring in all of the mortifying situations Jason’s walked in on Sonny in, which the Texan brushed off with ease that any other man wouldn’t be able to. Jason shook his head slightly, hoping to make it clear to Sonny that he doesn't look at Clay like that, ever, especially while operating. Shamefully, part of Jason preens at the panicked face Sonny gives him, or how he slinks away and tries to put as much distance between himself and Clay.
As Jason said, he’s got nothing against Sonny. Clay’s been in too many relationships that have broken his heart, and Jason won’t let Sonny come and do the same thing. Even if the Texan wouldn't deliberately, Jason knew it would happen one way or another. Someone like Sonny could take it.
“Harsh.” Ray utters, standing at his side.
“It’s inappropriate.” Jason knew the justification wouldn’t hold up, or that he really meant it. The idea that Sonny could like Clay, in the way Clay liked Sonny. Jason coughed, clearing his throat and standing up straighter.
Ray levelled him with a glare, equal to the one he just gave Sonny, “I stared at you yesterday, is that wrong?”
“You know the difference.”
“I think you’re acting like Papa Bear Jason, not Master Chief Jason.” Ray prompted, “I get you can’t help it with the kid, but Clay is a grown-up and can make his own decisions.”
“He’s not my kid.” Even saying that felt wrong, and his words came out weak. Jason avoided Ray’s knowing gaze “Besides, I'm only looking out for the team, nothing more. If they mess up, it will affect all of us.” The truth is: Jason has his own children; Clay is Ash Spenser’s son, no matter how much Jason despises the man.
“Keep telling yourself that.” Ray scoffed, “Besides, you’re being unfair to Sonny. He clearly doesn’t know what he’s feeling, but he’s already changed to compensate. He’s aware of something involving Clay, just not what. Also, he’s stopped going to the clubs he used to and stopped sleeping with women. He’s keeping his cage tidier and becoming more punctual. Do you know why?”
“You’re going to tell me anyway.”
“Because it makes Clay happy. Sonny’s made all these tiny changes for reasons he can’t understand, but he knows that it makes Clay happy. It probably feels wrong to be going out with women for Sonny right now. Give him some slack, he might not even know he’s queer.”
Jason sighed, the guilt surfacing, “I know. I just get all-”
“Protective.” Ray filled it when he faltered, “I get it. Clay’s your kid. You want to keep him happy. We all know Clay’s like that for you, and none of us care, except you. I worry about Clay, too. You’re not the only one. But you need to stop scaring the shit out of Sonny.”
“He’s...” The initial word that comes to Jason is perverted, but he can’t apply that to Sonny when it comes to Clay. Ray had never been bothered by recent developments as Jason was. Then again, Ray always seemed stable when events managed to make Jason unsteady.
“It’s Sonny.” Ray corrected, “He’s working out what he’s feeling in the only way he knows how. You’re being too protective.”
“I don’t like it.”
“You don’t have to.” Ray spelt out, “Now, are we going to make a plan to get out of here?”
“Yeah, I know.” Jason said, “I think the rain is dying down a little now. We should get everyone ready to move.”
“We’ll be ready,” Ray told him before leaving.
Jason spotted Clay talking to Sonny. Now, he picked out the way Clay seemed relaxed even in a warzone, or how he leaned a little too close to Sonny, or how his hand lingered on Sonny’s arm for a second too long. He hated to admit it, but Ray was right. This wasn’t his decision to make, and Clay wasn’t some helpless child. Jason bit his tongue and turned back to Ray, slotting back into the conversation. He’d deal with Clay and Sonny another day.
Tomorrow is another day...
The next incident Jason picks up on happens a month later. For the most part, he’d tried to ignore the developments.
Jason picks up the photo of him and Emma, thinks about visiting her, before turning back to his team.
Trent hovered outside of Clay’s cage, leaning against the entrance. “What did the doctor say about the stitches?” The medic’s hand lifted Clay’s shirt, one hand running near the long gash that wrapped Clay’s stomach. It originated from Clay’s left pelvic bone to his bottom right rib. It was slightly pink, with fresh stitches holding it together.
Jason could feel the blood on his hands. He could remember holding Clay’s stomach together, praying that he wouldn’t lose another teammate. He takes in Sonny, whose eyes are glued to Clay’s skin in the moments his stomach is exposed, and then Trent drops the shirt. Sonny hadn’t left Clay’s side from the moment he collapsed until they got to the hospital. The haunted look in Sonny’s eyes is something Jason hasn’t been able to purge from his memory yet.
“Gave me the ones that dissolve in the shower.” Clay told Trent, “She wasn’t worried about infection, said I just caught it when I had that knock in training. She did say it would probably scar, which I’m not looking forward to.”
Red flashed again. Visions of Clay on the floor, blood staining his shirt, came back to Jason. Ray had knocked Clay onto the floor during CQC, ripping some of his stitches. Sonny and Clay had locked eyes on that floor, sharing something that Jason wasn’t privy to. This, as with many things in Jason’s life, he missed because he didn’t know how to speak the code that Clay and Sonny knew intrinsically.
“Keep an eye out for infection.” Trent said anyway, “If anything starts to feel wrong, call me.”
“Yes, mum.” Clay groaned, “Christ, I can take care of myself.”
“That’s debatable,” Trent said.
“The day you start taking care of yourself is the day hell freezes over.” Brock added, “Remember when you came into work with a broken rib and not being able to breathe properly.”
“Or the time when you sprained your ankle and didn’t tell anyone for five miles.” Ray joined in, grinning at Clay’s embarrassed look.
“Or when you had a bullet in your shoulder and decided the logical thing was to dig it out yourself?” Brock spoke again.
Clay flushes slightly, throwing his hands up in frustration, “I get it. Thank you!”
Trent smirked at them all, arms crossed against his chest “It probably will scar. The knife went quite deep, and I couldn’t fully stitch it in the field, so that’s my fault.”
“Fucking ugly thing” Clay grumbled, one of his hands drifted as though he was going to cradle the scar, but stopped himself. When Clay mumbles under his breath, he soaks in Sonny’s attention. Jason didn’t understand how Clay could be so blind to the fact that the words that could fill him with so much joy could be just as cruel. As with Stella, logic seemed to fly out the window when it came to Sonny, and anything his heart wanted.
“Come on, pretty boy.” Sonny chirped up, “Only you would be upset about a badass scar messing up your image.”
Clay frowned, raising an eyebrow at Sonny, “Seriously? You actually like any of your scars.”
“Only the ones that help me get all the ladies.” Sonny explained, “One thrilling story about how I risked my life to save our great country and bam! Charmed.”
“Are you sure they aren’t just being nice to you until they find the exit.” Clay said gently. Under the teasing, his tone was softer. “I can’t even begin to imagine the mind-numbing conversations you subject these women to.”
“I’ve been there.” Ray said, “It’s bad.”
“We’ve all been there.” Jason said.
“Just because you lot haven’t mastered the art of seduction as I have, doesn’t mean you need to bitch about it.” Sonny said back.
“Come on, young grasshopper.” Jason chuckled, slapping Sonny’s back, “Get your shit so we can get going.” Sonny nodded at him but continued to stare at Clay’s face as though studying it and securing it in his memory. Jason started to doubt if they’d make it to the bar.
“Remember.” Trent turned to Clay, “Anything feels wrong, tell me.”
“I’m not going to drop dead.” Clay snapped, “I just can’t go swimming ever again, or go topless at the beach. It’s not a big deal, and the doctor checked me out.”
“I still want to have a look.”
“You don’t need to have a look.”
Trent pulled a face at the rejection, looking ready to hold Clay down and forcibly check him over.
“Don’t worry, Clay.” Sonny chuckled, spinning his cap on his finger, “Scars are very attractive, as I said before.”
“Yeah, until they’re ugly ones.”
Sonny gave an over-exasperated groan, “What is it about you and ugly scars?”
“It’s ugly.” Clay stated, as though that explained anything. Jason couldn’t help but wonder if he was worried about the scars being ‘ugly’ or whether he was concerned with Sonny finding his body unattractive. The thought disturbed Jason, who felt the same flame protective fire inside of him.
Sonny’s lips quirked, “Yeah, I bet you look terrible now.” Whether Sonny intended it or not, his words came out flirty. For a second, Clay’s expression flickered – don't say those words, because if you start, I might not be able to stop, so I’d rather not start.
“Careful, people might think you’re sweet on me.” Clay joked.
A collective eyeroll/groan went through the room as they all were forced to be subjected to Tweedle-dee and Tweedledum.
“You know you’re the only one for me, Blondie.”
Clay seemed to hang onto Sonny’s words as his frown tightened, “Seriously? You don’t hear it?”
“Hear what?”
Clay’s deliberated his answer silently, eventually sighing and shaking his head, “Nothing, Sonny. You’ll understand when you’re older.”
“Spencerella, what are you on about?” Sonny nagged, “Clay?” He repeated when the blonde ignored him, smiling to himself – and then in a move that had Jason baffled, Clay grabbed Sonny’s hand and simply led the Texan out the room. Sonny froze but followed and didn’t separate their hands.
For a while, none of them moved.
“Fifty bucks, I could get them together in half an hour if you let me lock them in a closet together.” Brock broke the silence and pulled out his wallet, “Another fifty, I can get them together before next week.”
Jason shot him a look, “For the final time, no one is locking them in anything.”
“Come on, Jace, it would be better than listening to whatever that is. Sonny’s as thick as a brick when it comes to this sort of thing, and Clay won’t say a thing because he’s waiting for Sonny to act.”
“Sonny won’t make the first move.” Ray said.
“Quit complaining.” Jason huffed, “Hurry up and get out, or I’m locking you all in here.”