Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“You coming, kid?” Sonny throws over his shoulder as they head off the plane, backpacks slung onto their backs and a few more bruises than before. Clay leans into Trent as he’s helped up from where he’s seated, his leg is bruised and sore after a large rock fell right on top of hit and his head a bit foggy from when the grenade went off and he went flying. “If I recall correctly, Trent said no alcohol,” he mumbles tiredly and Trent shoots him an approving grin, “right you are, don’t go encouraging delinquent behavior now, Sonny.”

Sonny rolls his eyes and adjusts the cap on his head, “last time I checked, bars have water too,” just then Lisa walks past him and nudges him in the ribs to which he lets out a grunt,” last time you drank water was when I force fed you it after three days in the desert, I swear,” shooting a smile at the men around them she says, “I’m positive he’s 70% vodka,” Ray snorts loudly.

“Nah, I’m good, man, I’m just gonna head home,” Clay answers as he, together with Trent, limps off the plane with struggle. Jason, who’s been staying quiet for the most part, frowns and goes to open his mouth, “I know, boss,” Clay interrupts before Jason even gets a word out and ignores the glare he’s met with. “Stella will be home with me so I won’t be alone,” he adds and by the look sour look on Jason’s face, Stella’s presence does very little to quench his worries regarding his youngest team member.

“You can’t drive,” Jason adds as if that’s gonna stop Clay from trying to get home to Stella, but of course Clay doesn’t take the not-so-subtle hint to come with them and tells him, “I’ll call a cab,” Jason frowns, “Stella’s not coming to pick you up?” with a shake of his head Clay answers, “nah, she doesn’t know we’re back, I said we’d be another couple of days, figured I’d surprise her,” this doesn’t sit well with anyone on the team, especially not Jason, and he makes sure Clay knows that with the worried glare he sends him.

“I’ll be fine, like I said, I’ll call a cab,” Ray pats Jason on the back and says with a lighthearted grin, “you can’t win this one brother.”

“Well then, shoot a text when you’re done celebrating with Stella, let us know you’re good, but no pictures!” Sonny rumbles and Clay scrunches his face up as Ray pretends to gag, “yeah, no pictures buddy, we don’t wanna see that,” Clay groans and covers his face with the hand that isn’t holding onto Trent. “Shut up,” he mumbles, trying to ignore the way his cheeks flame. “Cerb is on my side, right buddy?” Cerberus barks loudly and Brock, without missing a beat translates, “he said no.”

“I hate you all,” Cay mumbles bitterly to which everyone just chuckles as they move across the landing strip towards their parked cars and family. Maggie waves to Brock but it’s Cerberus that notices first and begins to pull on the leech, “alright, alright, off you go,” Brock mutters as he releases Cerberus who sprints ahead and practically jumps into Maggie’s arms.

“I’ll see you in a bit, boys,” Brock calls as he jogs off to where Maggie and Cerberus are having their little reunion and Jason nods his way, “everyone good with dropping their things off at home and heading out after?” Sonny knocks him on the shoulder and tips his Texas cap, “I’ll be good as soon as I get some beer in me, good beer,” he says pointing at Clay who only rolls his eyes, “none of that microbrew stuff.”

“Yeah, I got it, brother, it’s not like you haven’t told me a million times before.”

“And yet you don’t listen,” Trent snickers and Clay shoves him away just as they reach their cars, Trent lets go of him when Clay pushes him away and frowns in confusion but Clay only nods towards Katie, “go,” with a smile of assurance from Clay Trent basically bounces away towards Katie and engulfs her in a hug.

He limps over to a bench and sits down heavily, pulling out his phone he goes to dial for a cab, Sonny rolls past him on his motorcycle and mock-salutes him on the way in a typical Sonny fashion, but Clay only nods back, too tired to even lift his arm. All he wants to do is go home, and cuddle with Stella, maybe drink some tea to fall asleep faster, not that he thinks he’ll need it.

The others soon start to pull out of the parking lot, honking as they pass him, and eventually Clay’s left alone in the parking lot, bag still on his back and a foot brace constantly reminding him off the pain he’s in. They gave him some painkillers on the plane but it’s all starting to disappear now, and the only advice Trent gave him was to stay off his feet, take some painkillers, “whatever the recommended amount is, double it” and try to sleep it off.

And that’s exactly what he plans to do, he could probably sleep for a week if he wanted to.

Fifteen minutes pass and finally the cab rolls into the parking lot, heaving a sigh of relief Clay gets himself back on his feet and limps over to the car, “hey man,” he greets the driver who silently nods and pops the trunk open for him. He throws his bag in before closing it and practically throws himself into the car. Thankfully the driver is the quiet type and lets Clay rest for the entirety of the ride, the radio playing some country channel on low volume, barely enough for Clay to hear what song it is. It takes about half an hour for them to reach his place and when they do Clay is almost passed out in the backseat.

“Thanks,” he mumbles as he with struggle digs into his back pocket and pulls out some cash, not even bothering to count how much he’s giving before he hands it over. Maybe he tipped $20 but he can live with that, it’s not like he has anything else to spend it on anyways, alcohol’s out of the question.

As soon as his bag is out and the trunk is closed the driver drives away and Clay begins to head into the apartment complex. His head is pounding from his concussion and his leg is killing him, a bed has never seemed so inviting as it does now. He opens the front door and steps inside, when he doesn’t see Stella on the living room floor grading papers like usual nor in the kitchen following along some complicated healthy recipe she saw on youtube he smiles wistfully, imagining her taking a nap in their bedroom. He dumps his bag on the floor and limps over to the bedroom door, hoping he doesn’t wake her when he opens it.

Stella’s awake. Oh boy is she awake, and she’s not alone. The professor, Gordon ,  the very same professor that Clay had been worried about, the very same that Davis had told him not to worry about, is in his bed, kissing his girlfriend and god knows what else under those sheets.

“Oh my god,” Stella lets out as she sees Clay in the doorway simply staring at the pair, “oh my god, Clay,” that gets the attention of the other man in the room who stops attacking Stella’s neck to look up at the man who, despite his injuries, stands tall like he’s ready to pounce any second.

“Really?” is all Clay manages to utter, not knowing how he should react. The last thing he’d been expecting was for Stella to cheat on him, he thought they’d been doing well despite the small mishaps and quarrels they’d been having, figured that was just part of the rocky patch they were going through but that everything would be alright after a while. He thought his deployment would do them some good, give them time apart to do some thinking on their own, turns out Stella’s been doing more than just thinking.

“C-Clay, you’re b-back,” Stella mumbles while pulling the sheet tight to her body to hide from him, from her own boyfriend. Clay flips the switch, temporarily binding the underdressed couple with the bright lights, and leans against the wall. “I’m back,” he replies bluntly, staring right into Stella’s guilty eyes.

“How about you let us get dressed and we can talk about this in the living room like adults?” Clay almost punches him right then and there, how dare he request anything out of Clay when he’s the one fucking his girlfriend in a stranger’s bed?

“Let you? You want me to allow you some time to get dressed? Then what? We’re gonna walk out into my living room, sit on my couch, and talk about you fucking my girlfriend, is that what’s gonna happen?” Stella places a hand on Gordon’s shoulder when he moves to get up and silently shakes her head.

“Yeah you should listen to her, you stand up I’ll knock you down before you even realize it,” Clay threatens, not caring a single bit about the fact that he probably shouldn’t do that as a serviceman. But right now he’s not a sailor, he’s not a SEAL on a mission, he’s a single man on a mission to completely obliterate another with his fists.

“You’re gonna knock me down on that leg? With that head wound?” he points to Clay’s head where the stitched gash along his forehead is, “good luck with that,” Stella tightens her grip on Gordon as a warning when she sees Clay’s posture change.

“You don’t think I can take you? I’ve taken down terrorists with a bullet in me, you bet your ass I can take you with a twisted ankle and a scratch,” Gordon, without a thought stands up stark naked and lunches for Clay who simply sidesteps and lets the man fall right into the wall, hitting it face first and falling to the floor.

“Clay, stop!” Stella shouts and Clay turns to glare at her, “I didn’t even do anything! he fell. Why are you so concerned for him but you can’t even look at me?” this time his voice trembles, unlike his previously steady and stoic tone. “Please, just stop,” Stella pleads and Clay feels his heart throb in pain, not because of her pleading tone and the tears glistening in her eyes, but because she’s hurting him. She’s defending the man on the floor clutching his nose, a result of his own stupidity, without even giving him a once over, he just got back from a war zone and the first thing he’s met with is betrayal.

Gordon stumbles onto his feet again and hurries over to Stella, his bloody nose dripping as he goes. “How could you do this?” Clay asks, hurt filling his voice as the woman he loves comforts another man, “how could you betray me like this?” his voice gains volume as he sees the first tear spill over Stella’s cheek, why is she crying? I’m the one who should be crying.

“I’m s-sorry, I didn’t mean to h-hurt you,” Clay scoffs and rolls his eyes, the itching feeling to comfort her is overcome by the anger he feels at her actions, “I didn’t think y-you’d be home so s-soon,” that leaves Clay gaping completely speechless.

“So you were gonna pretend nothing happened when I got back? You were gonna pretend you never cheated? Is that what you’re saying?” his head hurts from shouting but he can’t control his voice, he’s far too angry for that. “She was gonna break up with you,” Gordon lets out and Clay lets out a mocking laugh, “but you had to fuck him before you could do that? Just to make sure?” Stella lets out a sob and wipes furiously at her cheeks. “You couldn’t just break up with me before I left like a grown woman? You had to go and fuck someone else while waiting for me to get home from a warzone just so you break up with me, fuck you.”

“C-Clay, stop,” Stella begs, tears flowing freely now and her privacy forgotten as she lets the sheet fall, “why? Am I hurting your feelings? Good!”

“I should call the cops on you for this,” Gordon gestures to his nose and spits blood on the floor, “have you arrested for assault.”

“You’re gonna call the cops on me in my own house? What are you gonna say? ‘I ran at him to hit him and when he stepped to the side I slammed into the wall like an idiot’?” Gordon tightens his fists in anger but Clay’s not done, “how about I have you arrested? I never gave you permission to enter my apartment and if I remember correctly, Stella doesn’t live here,” he ignores the hurt look that crosses her face and continues.

“You wanna explain to the cops how you’re in the apartment of a Navy SEAL that hasn’t invited you? And on top of that, damaged my property by slamming your ugly face into the wall?”

“That’s enough!” Stella shouts and Clay actually pauses to take a good look at her, her face is red and swollen, her cheeks wet with tears and her eyes bloodshot, Clay almost pities her, almost. But the sweat along her hairline and the nakedness of her breasts is enough for him to harden his glare, “I want you out of my house by morning, get your stuff out of here, anything you don’t bring I’m throwing away, I never want to see you again.”

Stella sobs and leaps out of the bed to run towards him, “Clay, don’t do this,” she tries to hug him but he won’t let her, can’t even bear to look at her anymore. There are bruises on her neck and on the inside of her thighs that he knows he didn’t put there and the vision make him feel sick.

“Don’t touch me,” he warns as she tries to get closer to him again but she doesn’t listen, “please, just-” he pushes her away, not hard enough to make her fall, he doesn’t actually want to hurt her, he just wants her gone.

“I said, don’t fucking touch me!” he backs away, slams the bedroom door behind himself and throws his phone against the wall in front of him, shattering it on impact but in that moment he couldn’t care less about it. “Fuck,” he quietly swears and puts his hands on the back of his neck, “fuck,” he repeats as he limps away from the bedroom he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to sleep in again. “Fuck!” he finally screams and wipes everything off the dinner table, plates and glasses and silverware crash to the ground. He kicks a chair and immediately regrets it as pain moves up his entire leg, he lets out a yelp and groans in pain.

He kicks with his other leg but finds that it doesn’t fly as far as he wants it to so he picks it up instead and throws it, much more effective, he doesn’t even know why he’s destroying his apartment anymore, he’s angry but not that angry, he’s sad, he realizes, really fucking sad.

Sad because he thought things were fine, thought it would all work out, thought he’d marry her, maybe even have kids, and now that’s all gone. And he’s not doing any better than his old man, he wanted to show off so badly, wanted to make him see that Clay could make it work like he hadn’t, but maybe failure runs in his blood.

He drops the chair he’s holding and heaves a whole body sigh, his head hurts worse than it did before and his leg aches from all the activity on it, he vaguely notices the blood on his hand but doesn’t think much of it, it doesn’t even hurt. Taking a look around himself he realizes that the entire place is trashed, broken glass everywhere and furniture lying around unrecognizable. “I have to get out of here,” he mumbles to himself, suddenly feeling like the roof is caving in on him and the walls getting closer, he feels like he’s suffocating. The smell of Stella is everywhere, her stuff lying about, her jacket hangs on the door, her shoes are neatly placed on the side, her schoolwork is on the coffee table and her cup of tea cold and forgotten with a lipstick mark on it.

Running out the door and out of the building, he doesn’t think about the strain he’s putting on his leg even for a second, nor the pounding headache that won’t go away. He stands out there in the cool night air on the sidewalk, watching the cars on the road pass. His car is parked in the driveway but he doesn’t have his keys, left them on the coffee table inside, and his phone is trashed beyond repair so he can’t call a cab nor anyone else, he doesn’t have his wallet so he can’t check into a motel for the night. He doesn’t have anything. Only a stupid foot brace and a broken heart.

He rubs his hands over his face and sighs heavily, he has a couple of choices, either he can start walking to Jason’s house or he can sleep on the sidewalk or...step out into traffic and hope a car hits him so he gets to stay at the hospital for the night. He’s reasonable enough to know that the last option is a last resort and he’s at least going to attempt to get to Jason’s house, he’s not a Navy SEAL for nothing, he’s used to walking miles upon miles, granted not with a foot brace on, but he’s determined.

It’s not far to Jason’s house but it takes him an embarrassingly long time to get there, he fell twice after tripping on something with his foot brace and took a wrong turn once because he felt dizzy. He must have looked like a drunken mess but he couldn’t care less, looking pristine is the least of his worries.

He rings the doorbell and awaits the scolding he’s sure he’s gonna get, but it’s one he’ll gladly take as long as it means he gets to stay the night or at least gets a ride home to someone who’ll let him stay, maybe Brock, he misses Cerberus already. But it’s not Jason that opens the door, It’s Emma.

“Clay?” she asks, letting her eyes sweet over him, analyzing the state of her dad’s friend, “hey...Emma,” Clay wasn’t expecting this and has no response, he hadn’t even come up with something to say to Jason let alone his daughter.

“Is your dad home?” Emma frowns in confusion and shakes his head, “no, he said he was going out to drink... with the boys,” she raises a brow at the word ‘boys’ as if to say aren’t you one of them? And Clay wants to slap himself for being so stupid. How could he forget?

“Oh shit, right, I-I’m sorry,” he drags a hand through his hair and curses silently, this only causes Emma’s frown to deepen, she can’t recall ever seeing one of her dad’s friends this rattled, especially not at their doorstep asking for her dad like a kid.

“Is everything alright?” he hesitates in asking but figures the worst thing that can happen is that he doesn’t answer, “uh, yeah, everything’s fine I-I just can’t stay at my apartment cause Stella’s there so I thought I could…” he trails off when he realizes he’s about to start rambling and that he probably shouldn’t divulge this sort of information to his boss’s daughter, that’s probably not appropriate. She’s not a child but she’s Jason’s child and that’s enough to shut him up.

“Did you call any of the other guys?” he rubs his neck sheepishly and tells her, “I don’t have my phone.”

It’s quiet for a second as Emma studies him, she sees the foot brace and the jack on his forehead, stitched up but still definitely hurting him, she sees the bleeding hand and the trail of blood dripping from his elbow, but the worst part she sees, his eyes, his expression. He looks lost despite being at an all too familiar door and Emma feels that she can’t possibly let him leave in this condition, especially when she realizes that his car isn’t anywhere to be seen, nor a cab of any kind.

“Why don’t you come inside? Mikey and I are watching a film and we have some leftovers in the fridge, I can heat it up for you,” she prays he says yes and when she sees him nod his head she sighs and steps aside to let him in.

“Hey Mr. Spenser,” Mikey shouts from the couch and Spenser feels himself begin to grin, “Mr? Since when do you respect me that much? It’s just Clay, kid,” Mikey grins back and pats the space on the couch right next to him, “we’re watching Spiderman,” he tells and Clay sits down heavily with a thud, “my favorite,” he says and fist bumps Mikey. He feels himself instantly begin to calm as the movie on the TV plays on, but his sadness lingers. Mikey takes notice of the blood on Clay’s hand and his eyes widen before turning to meet his sister’s who only shakes her head and puts a finger up to her mouth, Mikey nods discreetly and turns his head back to the movie, he knows Clay is hurt, but the man’s not saying anything, and from experience with his own dad he knows it’s probably best if he doesn’t.

While Clay and Mikey watch the movie Emma slips into the kitchen with her phone to make a call.

“Hey sweetie, how’s everything going? Have you eaten?” Jason answers his phone in a good mood, phone in one hand and a beer in the other, he’s surrounded by all the guys plus Davis and Mandy, “uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” Emma answers and Jason immediately sits up a bit straighter in his chair placing his beer down on the table. Ray takes notice of his change in demeanor and shushes Sonny who’s rambling on about god knows what.

“What’s wrong? Something’s up,” he hears Emma sigh on the other side but she doesn’t seem to be in any sort of distress or hurry which calms Jason just the tiniest bit. “Um, nothing’s wrong, exactly, but...Clay just came over,” Jason frowns and pulls the phone away from his ear to tell the others with an incredulous look ‘Clay’s at my house’.

“...Okay...did he say why?”

“He said he can’t stay at his apartment cause Stella’s there, I don’t know what that’s about but his car isn’t here and he doesn’t have his phone, he walked here, dad,” with a flick of his hand he sets the table into motion, beers disappear and clothes fly on as the table immediately seems to sober up. “What’s he doing now?”

“Watching Spiderman with Mikey on the couch, looks like he’s about to fall asleep any second, his hand is bleeding and he looks kinda...dirty, I think he fell on his way over,” Jason’s eyes search for Trent and when they meet he asks, “how bad’s the bleeding?” to the untrained eye Trent looks unfazed but to the men and women around him his worry is on full display.

“I couldn't really tell but it looked like a cut in his palm,” Emma’s worried voice sound from the other end of the line and Jason’s jaw tightens, out of all the nights they could have gone out it had to be the one where Clay needs them, “okay, sweetie, listen to me, we’re gonna be there as soon as possible, okay? you just hang in there and call me if anything happens, okay, I’m sorry about all of this,” Emma sighs and shakes her head despite knowing there’s no way for her dad to see her, “don’t worry about it dad, I’m not mad about it, okay? I’m just worried, he looked completely destroyed when he got here.”

Jason could never thank Alana enough for raising such a strong girl and he looks up to the sky for just a moment, “we’ll be there soon, I love you,” and once she replies he hangs up and turns to all the others.

“Who’s good to drive?” Brock raises his hand, “I’ve barely touched my beer,” Brock elaborates and with a nod of agreement from Davis, it’s settled. “You coming?” Sonny asks the two women who look as worried as they feel, “no, you go. He needs his brothers right now,” Davis tells him and with only a moment of hesitation Sonny nods and hurries after the other boys. They jump into Brock’s car and speed away, desperate to get to their brother in need.

“What’d Emma say?” Ray asks just as they make their way out on the highway and Jason rubs a hand over his face anxiously, throwing an elbow up on the windowsill he leans against it and explains, “said he came knocking on the door, bleeding from his hand, no car, no phone, no cab in sight, asking if I was there cause he couldn’t stay at his own apartment.”

“Why the hell not?” Sonny immediately rumbles and Jason shrugs helplessly with a perplexed expression, “because Stella’s there,” is the answer he gives, because it’s the only answer he has so far. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Trent speaks up, but Jason, shaking his head, tells him, “your guess is as good as mine, brother.”

They ride the rest of the ride in silence and in record time they arrive at the Hayes residence, Sonny’s out the door before they’ve even made a full stop, “it’s inhumane to force three big men to sit beside each other on those small seats,” he mutters as he slams his car door shut, but that thought it quickly scrapped when he takes notice of the small droplets of blood on the porch, “yep, kid’s definitely here, I’d recognize that sparkly fairy blood anywhere,” when Trent shoots him a look he holds his hands up in defense and adds, “unfortunately.”

Jason unlocks the door and as soon as it opens Emma hugs him tightly, “everything okay?” he asks hurriedly and she nods, “Mikey’s upstairs and Clay’s knocked out on the couch,” Jason kisses her forehead and cups her cheek, “you did good, okay? We’ll take it from here,” she notices the other men behind them and waves slightly, “I’ll be upstairs,” Jason nods and watches her go before turning his eyes towards the couch where Clay’s napping.

“Time for an intervention,” Ray muses with a solemn look at towards the couch, they have no idea what transpired back at Clay’s apartment or why he’s here, but they know he’s desperate and in need of comfort- and medical care- and they’ll be there for him through it all.

Sonny’s the first to reach him, sitting down in the couch right next to the sleeping men, mindful of his leg but other than that not caring very much for his comfort. The movement justles him but doesn’t manage to wake him, which they figure is probably for the best, especially with his history of avoiding medical care and downplaying his pain, it gives them some time to actually asses his condition.

Trent takes beside the couch in front of Clay and removes his hand from where it’s tucked in under Clay’s other arm on his torso, his shirt follows with the movement because of the dried blood but with a bit of tugging it comes loose. The wound is fairly shallow and not deep enough to require stitches but what concerns Trent are the small glass pieces embedded in the wound and the rest of his palm. “You have any tweezers, Jace?” Trent asks and surprisingly he’s got one in his hand within seconds, “that’s a yes then,” he mumbles to himself before going to work on Clay’s hand, the light in the ceiling switches on but it’s not enough to see every little piece so Ray grabs his phone and shines with the flashlight.

“Perfect, hold it there,” Trent gets to work on his hand, picking out the small glass shards one by one and placing them in a plastic cup with Kung Fu Panda on it and a child’s letters spelling out Mikey.

One particular shard embedded directly in the wound is what makes Clay wake up and he immediately tugs his hand away and grabs it with his other one, as if holding it will lessen the pain, “w-what the fuck,” he mumbles, disoriented for a second and Trent hopes it’s just his tiredness speaking and not his concussion. “Hey there, sleeping beauty,” Sonny pats Clay’s uninjured leg to attract his attention and Clay turns his eyes to meet his, “how was your nap?”

“Painfully interrupted,” is the response they get, which would have been comforting if it wasn’t for the slur in his voice and the lack of emotion. Clay’s eyes move around, taking in his surroundings and the people around him and when his eyes land on Jason the immediately lower. “You know where you are?” Jason asks, his arms crossed over his chest and his expression tight, “yeah,” Clay answers quietly, ashamed.

“And where’s that?” Jason presses and Clay blinks slowly, his eyes stuck to a crease in his jeans, “your house,” alright, at least he knows where he is, “alright, good,” lifting his gaze to meet Jason’s he studies the man in front of him, his leader, his boss, his brother, and his friend, studies him to see just how mad he is at him, but Jason’s got his expression under control and in Clay’s tired and concussed state he can’t tell what the older man is feeling.

“I’m sorry,” Jason raises a brow, not accepting nor denying his apology in fear of Clay trying to take the easy way out, apologize and then hope they’ll forget all about it, which they absolutely won’t, “for what?” lowering his gaze again Clay looks away and sighs deeply.

“Um,” he swallows heavily, his voice stuffed like he’s on the brink of crying, ”for scaring your kids and...for invading your home, and uh...getting blood on your stuff,” he stops there, not knowing what else to say, there’s probably a million thing he could and should be apologizing for right now but his mind isn’t cooperating with him fully.

“You’re always welcome here, kid, whether you need to talk, eat, shit, sleep, it doesn’t matter, you’re on my team and part of my responsibility, that doesn’t disappear once we land back home. And don’t worry about the kids, they’re strong kids and they weren’t scared, just worried about you, Mikey’s tougher than he looks and Emma’s tougher than me,” that gets a chuckle out of Clay, a quiet one, but a chuckle nonetheless.

“Now the blood, however-” Jason begins but before he can continue Ray nudges him in the ribs to shut him off, “the blood is nothing, Naima knows the best dry cleaner in town, and your couch will be as good as new again,” patting Jason on the back jokingly some of the tension lets up and the air seems to flow a bit more lightly in that moment. But one question looms over them like a gray cloud, why was Stella the reason he couldn’t stay at his apartment? Why did he want to escape her so desperately?

“Hey, kid, I gotta take a look at that hand again,” Trent tells him and Clay reluctantly lets him, not wanting to argue with any of them on this, knows it’ll only serve to make matters worse for him. When Trent begins to dig in his hand again he winces and Sonny doesn’t hesitate in mocking him for it, “hey, pansycake, stay still and let the man work,” Clay rolls his eyes and let his head lull back, “your insults are getting worse, old man.”

Sonny slaps his leg in mock offense but the groan Clay lets out isn’t in good fun, Sonny accidentally hit his injured leg with his playful whack and it hurt worse than he thought it would, “shit, sorry kid, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” Clay assures tight-lipped, not hiding his pain as well as he wants and he curses himself silently for being so weak. Trent finishes digging around in his hand and starts to wrap his hand up with gauze magically produced from his pocket, once wrapped up the room falls quiet again and Clay avoids looking at any of them.

He knows what’s coming yet hopes that if he avoids them long enough they’ll give up- they won’t. “So are we gonna talk about this or…?” to everyone’s surprise, and major relief, it’s Brock that breaks the ice and goes straight in for the kill. Instantly they take notice of the way Clay's entire demeanor loses any trace of happiness and calm, suddenly he turns pale and his eyes glaze over.

Oh oh. Something big happened, something real bad. “Kid?” Trent speaks carefully, as if Clay’s a wounded animal that he doesn’t want to scare, and in a way he kind of is.

Clay drags his uninjured hand through his hair and leaves it there, resting in the tangles of his hair that has grown way too long to be acceptable by anyone’s standards, he looks up at the ceiling right at the light above them with an unwavering gaze, he looks and looks but doesn’t really see.

“You’re only prolonging the inevitable,” Ray tells him as if he doesn’t know that already, “just tell us what happened, did you two fight?” Clay honestly wishes they did, because that would have been so much better than what actually happened, “I wish,” he mumbles much to the confusion of his team.

“You wish?” Jason asks, confusion clear as day in his voice and Clay only nods, “yeah,” he acknowledges, not wanting to elaborate as to why, he’s probably gonna start crying if he does and the last thing he wants is to have to listen to Sonny berate and mock him.

“You’re not giving us a lot to walk on here, kid,” Clay lets his eyes land on Jason and without really meaning to lets out a soft sob, the hand from his hair travels down to his eyes to cover them as his chest shakes- the only indication of his sorrow. “You gotta tell us what happened, brother,” Ray says worriedly with a hand stroking his bearded chin, a tell sign of his nervosity; never before have they seen Clay so distraught or vulnerable, not even when Brian or Adam died. The kid had been angry and in shock but he hadn’t cried, at least not in front of them.

“It’s so fucked up,” Clay tells them, his voice muffled and shaky because of the lump in his throat, “I just wanted to s-sleep, but my bed was f-fucking occupied,” he hisses angrily, a single tear trickling down his cheek which he quickly wipes away with a care for his injured hand. A wave of what the fuck is he on about passes through the room and the men exchange glances with each other, silently deciding what to do next.

“You didn’t want to share a bed with Stella?” Ray says in disbelief, as a married man, sharing a bed with his wife is one of the wonders of the world, and by the way Clay talks about Stella he would assume the same goes for the younger man.

“You wouldn’t shut up about it on the way home and now you’re mad because she was taking a nap in your bed?” hearing Stella’s name come out of Ray’s mouth fills him with anger but the last drop comes when Sonny makes it sound like he got mad for nothing, she wasn’t just taking a nap now, was she?

“Not when she’s fucking s-sharing it with f-fucking Gordon!” he shouts way louder than he intended and it echoes in the living room as well as manages to break down the last of his barriers, he lets the tears fall only this time they’re not so much out of sadness as they are anger.

“Found them fucking in the bedroom like it was their apartment, they were fucking in my bed!” sitting up in the couch he swings his legs off of it and sets them down on the floor, head in his hands and elbows on his thighs. The resounding silence that follows haunts him now that he realizes the movie is over, has been for a while now, and there’s no sound to block out his thoughts.

The others don’t know how to feel, shocked, betrayed, sad, disgusted, angry- that’s a good place to start. “That fucking bitch,” is what Sonny bellows angrily while throwing his cap on the floor, Ray rubs his hand over his face and Jason closes his eyes to try and calm himself, trying to keep his anger contained so he doesn’t accidentally take it out on the kid, he’s not angry at Clay, far from it, he’s angry at the bitch that’s rendered Clay into such a helpless and broken state.

“She cheated,” Jason states despite knowing that she did, he doesn’t need any more confirmation than what he’s heard but Clay gives it to him anyways with a hoarse, miserable ‘yeah’. Trent, angry and disappointed with Stella puts his feelings aside to focus on the more urgent things, such as how Clay injured his hand and ran to Jason’s apartment. “Did you hit him?” he questions calmly, not an ounce of disappointment or judgment in his voice however that doesn't matter to Clay, he hears what he thinks they’re thinking.

“No I didn’t fucking hit him!” hissing angrily he lifts his head to meet Trent’s eyes, there’s a fire in his own-stark contrast from Trent’s calm ones- and his face is red, from anger or from crying they can’t quite tell. “He hit himself when he tumbled into my wall after trying to hit me!” he’s defensive and ready to bolt if they chose not to believe him, they can all tell by the way he’s barely seated anymore, his weight shifted from his heels to the tip of his toes.

“How’d you hurt your hand, then?” Clay blinks harshly and rubs his thumb against his bandaged palm, without a doubt hurting himself but not caring about it. “I-I don’t know, I trashed the apartment, I guess, threw some things,” he shrugs half-heartedly, body as tense as before but his expression softer and more resigned, “I just...lost control, I was so... angry,” Trent places a comforting hand on his thigh and squeezes in silent support. Trashed apartment and broken glass? We can deal with that, Jason thinks, but there’s just one thing he has to be sure about.

“But you didn’t touch them in any way?” Jason asks, solely because he has to, an assault lawsuit could end Clay, especially because of his work and the fact that both Gordon and Stella are civilians, unarmed at that. He has to be sure.

With blazing eyes Clay lifts his gaze to meet Jason’s, “no, I didn’t do anything to them,” he practically growls, before his voice turns softer and he mumbles bitterly, “doesn’t mean I didn’t want to, though.”

“Fuck,” as a new round of tears make their way down Clay’s cheeks he hides his face in his hands again and curses, “I can’t stop crying” it tugs at the heartstrings of the older men around the room to see Clay so distraught and all they want to do is help him but they don’t know how, Clay surely won’t want them to coddle him with hugs and kisses like a child, but being left alone is the last thing he needs.

“I’m gonna kill her,” Ray whispers to Jason who only puts a hand on his shoulder without even looking at the man, he’s well aware that Ray won’t do anything to Stella but he’s not so sure the man won’t punch a hole in his wall and imagine her face, not wanting to have to fix his own house on top of Clay’s apartment he holds him still with a tight grip.

“You’re staying here,” Jason states, his voice not leaving any room for arguing, not that anyone opposes his idea. “For how long?” Clay asks in a raspy voice, obviously well beyond exhausted and ready for bed, “as long as you want,” Jason answers honestly.

“Either until your apartment is cleaned up and you want to move back or...until you find yourself a new place, if that’s what you want,” Clay, too tired to know what he wants to do at the moment, only nods and lifts his head from his hands, “I told her she had until tomorrow morning to get herself and her stuff out,” he tells them and Sonny immediately punches his shoulder lightly and says, “you’re too kind, wonder boy, I’d have kicked her to the curb right then and there.”

Maybe I should have , Clay wonders to himself, but then again, what difference would it have made? He would most certainly still have trashed his place and then...well he definitely wouldn’t have slept in his bedroom? He would probably still have turned up at Jason’s place eventually but maybe in a cab instead, maybe then he wouldn’t be so damn tired and bruised from falling over.

“I didn’t know you’d be home so early”, she was really gonna keep it from me. She was gonna pretend nothing happened and let me sleep in the same bed she fucked someone else in before breaking up with me. Clay has a hard time wrapping his head around that, the fact that she actually said that to his face and meant it. She had really planned to just pretend the relationship wasn’t working out anymore and then leave him, does she have no shame?

Maybe I did myself a favor in keeping my arrival a secret, maybe it was for the best that I walked in on them, Clay wonder to himself,  I don’t think I would have believed it if someone told me Stella cheated, I would have called them a liar and left. Little did I know...

“What are you thinking?” Brock asks carefully, not liking the far-away look in Clay’s eyes.

“Just...everything,” is the only thing he can manage to answer, he’s so drained of energy that he doesn’t believe he’d be able to summarize his thoughts even if he tried to, “I just wanna sleep,” he mumbles, his tongue tripping over itself as his exhaustion and pain wells over now that his adrenaline is going away.

“You do that, little brother, don’t worry about a thing,” Sonny tells him as if he’s speaking to a child, “big old Sonny will take care of you,” Clay chuckles dryly and cracks an eye open, when did I close them? “So you’re finally admitting that’ you’re getting ol’,” any other day Sonny would have had some equally sassy remark to hit him right back with but today he lets it slide.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever,” he pushes Clay down by his shoulder until he’s lying down with his legs still hanging over the edge, “do we have to do everything for you, man?” Ray jokingly asks as he and Trent together move his legs up on the couch as well so that he’s fully lying down, Brock throws a blanket over him as Sonny stands from the sofa to give Clay more room and Trent stands up from his position on the floor with a gentle pat to Clay’s uninjured leg.

“Give a shout if you need anything,” Jason tells the man on the brink of sleep who only makes a sound of agreement that could just as well have been a groan unrelated to anything Jason said, “good enough,” Ray mumbles and together they make their way into the kitchen.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hit a woman as bad as I do know,” Sonny growls as soon as they’re in the kitchen and Brock counters with, “I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to hit anyone as bad as I do now.”

“I knew that woman was trouble after the whole Mexico thing, but I didn’t think she’d stoop this low,” with is head hung low Ray sits down in one of the bar stools and sighs heavily, “Davis told me Clay asked about the professor a while back,” Sonny tells them with resignation.

“Said he was worried about him but didn’t want to come off as ‘overprotective’ and ‘controlling’” Sonny makes air quotes and rolls his eyes, “that backfired,” he adds unnecessarily and ray nudge him in the ribs.

Jason remembers, and will never forget, how they were all there for him when he lost Alana, and despite the situations being drastically different, they’re very much alike in the sense that one of their brothers is in need of their help. Stella’s not dead in the literal sense, but she’s dead to them and they need to help Clay process that.

“We’ll rotate tomorrow, I don’t feel comfortable leaving him alone,” Jason tells them and a sound of agreement echoes in the kitchen, “I don’t think any of us do,” Brock speaks from where’s he’s leaning against the fridge. Nodding Jason continues, “one will stay with him and the rest work on the apartment.”

“Katie’s off work tomorrow as well, I’m sure she wouldn’t mind watching the kid for a while.”

“Yeah, I could ask Maggie to drop Cerberus off before work too, get him something to cuddle,” Ray snickers knowing that the kid won’t be able to leave the couch once Cerberus is there. “Good,” Jason says and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Just one more thing,” Brock begins gently and all eyes turn to him, “what do we do if she’s there,” his voice takes an ugly turn but no one judges him for that, they all feel the same way about her, “if she’s there…” Jason begins, not really sure what they’re supposed to do, confront her? Ignore her? Yell at her?

“If she’s there we tell her to leave and never come back, but if she doesn’t agree..well,” she shrugs helplessly and adds, “if she wants a fight we’ll give her a fight,” Ray nods approvingly, “amen to that, brother.”

Sonny rubs his palms together and licks his lips, “oh I hope she wants a fight, cause I’ve got some issues I want to talk through with her,” Trent rolls his eyes and shakes his head, “alright, bloody baron, calm down.”

“Who?”

“Don’t you read?”

“Reading’s for pussies,” Trent feels an oncoming headache and shakes his head again, “Clay likes to read,” he tells Sonny, hoping that maybe the man will say I take it back but Sonny only grins devilishly  and looks at Jason, “like I said, for pussies,” and the last of the lingering tension breaks in the kitchen.

They’ve still got issues to deal with, one ruined apartment and one brother in need both mentally and physically, but those are problems for tomorrow and the days to come, tonight they’ll relax, maybe crack a beer open and put on a movie, maybe draw a dick or two on Clay’s face “ stop it, Sonny” , and share stories from past missions, “ did I tell you about that time Davis made kid flash blush redder than the communist flag?” - “why’d you describe the color red like that”- “I don’t know, I’m drunk, leave me alone”.

Whatever happens tomorrow, they’ll deal with it, whichever way they can.

Chapter Text

“If she throws the first punch I’m hitting her back.”

“No one’s gonna hit anyone, Sonny, put your fists down,” Sonny lowers his clenched fists at Jason’s command and grubbles bitterly. They’re standing outside of Clay’s apartment block, brooms and trash bags ready to be set to use, Clay’s home and safe back at Jason’s place, cuddling it up with Cerberus while the rest of the men are on cleaning duty.

“Cerberus would have been useful right about now, he could sniff and see if she’s still in there,” Ray comments with a look of disdain at the building and Brock rolls his eyes at the blatant disrespect for their four-legged team member, “he’s an explosives dog, I haven’t had the chance to train him to sniff out cheating girlfriends, though.”

“You better get started then, at this point they’re as dangerous as a bomb,” Sonny says with a sneer, his grip on his broom tightening as if holding a gun, ready for battle.”let’s go,” Jason orders and begins to walk into the building, the rest of the men following suit; they must look quite ridiculous marching into the building with brooms- Trent’s got a rainbow-colored duster sticking up from his backpack- but they’re men on a mission to help their brother, looks can wait.

They stop at Clay’s door and notice the dried blood on the side of the frame from where he grabbed it on his way out, Trent opens his mouth to say something about it but just then a thud is heard from inside his apartment, confirming their suspicions that Stella hasn’t left yet.

Jason inserts the key in the lock and turns it carefully, wanting to get the spring on Stella, “first time we’ve broken into a home and not kicked in the door,” Sonny mutters just as the door opens and immediately they’re met by the overturned couch and broken glass, “he sure did a number yesterday,” Brock acknowledges quietly. They don’t see anyone in the apartment at first glance but they can hear movement from inside the bedroom, Sonny picks up a dress that can only belong to Stella and chucks it into his trash bag daring anyone to say anything about it, “let’s help her along boys,” Ray scoffs and shakes his head but doesn’t protest.

Just then the door to the bedroom opens and Stella steps out, her hair in a towel and a pair of sweats on, seemingly not in any hurry to get out of Clay’s apartment, she pauses in the doorway like a deer caught in headlights and for a second it’s quiet.

“What are you doing here?” Jason crosses his arms and stares her down, making her squirm in her spot, “I could ask you the same thing,” Stella crosses her arms as well and tries to stare back, looking about as scary as a newborn kitten. “Did Clay send you?” cocking her hip she stands steadily in front of them like they’re the ones in the wrong, “no,” Jason answers honestly, shaking his head slightly.

“No he didn’t send us,” Stella raises a brow as if she doesn’t believe him and Sonny cuts in never one to remain patient, “listen here Miss teacher kink, if your professor wasn’t balls deep in ya’ last night you might have noticed that he was pretty injured, so no, he didn’t send us cause he barely has any energy to stand,” Stella’s face turns red and her mouth moves without any sound emitting from it.

“W-what I do on my personal time has nothing to do wi-”

“Lemme stop you right there, you know damn well this ain’t a typical arrangement, that’s what you signed up for when you started dating,” Ray says through is teeth, forcing himself to hold back from shouting. “If one of your friends hit her boyfriend would you just say ‘oh that’s their business’ or would you fucking do something about it?” Stella scoffs and looks away, a vein on her forehead pulsing with anger and her jaw tightening.

“Listen,” Brock says calmly, his exterior seemingly cool and collected but on the inside he’s boiling with anger for his brother and friend, “we came here to clean up this mess, that’s it,” Stella’s gaze falls onto the man who she’s never heard speak before and the tension in her body loosens a fraction, at least this man seems a bit reasonable , she thinks while studying him.

“‘This yours?” Sonny picks up a mug with a lipstick print on it from the kitchen table and dangles it from his pinky, when Stella nods silently he lets it fall to the ground and crash into bits, “what the hell!” Stella exclaims angrily but all Sonny has to say to her is “oops.”

“You have no right!” she shouts at them yet they remain unfazed, Jason turns away from her and claps his hands, “let’s get cleaning,” he orders and without a word the men begin to spread out in the room with a trash bag in one hand and some sort of cleaning instrument in the other. Ray tackles the kitchen and begins to sweep up broken glass and porcelain while Jason and Sonny take the couch area and Brock and Trent take the rest of the living room. All while Stella just stands there, still fuming over her broken cup and their presence.

“You can do the honors of cleaning the bedroom,” Trent tells her and throws a trash bag at her, “sheets go in that,” he explains and with a look of disgust sent her way he mutters, “we’re burning those.” Stella bitterly throws the bag on the floor and stomps angrily, “I’m not helping you clean! Clay’s the one who created this mess!” she’s really getting on their last nerves and Jason has to do everything not to drop his broom and walk over to her because there’s no telling what he’ll do then.

“The woman’s pitchin’ a hissy fit,” Sonny mumbles with a nudge to Jason’s ribs and the older man breathes heavily to keep calm, “well he wouldn’t have created a mess if you hadn’t gone and fucked a stranger behind his back, now, would he?” Ray snaps at her and she huffs angrily like a child, taking her out of the towel she throws it on the ground and glares. “You have no idea what it’s like,” she begins and every man in the room feels an oncoming headache because they know exactly what she’s about to say, and she really has no right to.

“You have no idea what it’s like to sit here at home constantly worrying about him, if he’s hurt or worse, if the knock on the door is one of the neighbors or something worse-” she cuts herself off to wipe her eyes harshly yet no one feels any sort of sympathy for her, “it’s so lonely here, just...waiting.”

Sucking in a deep breathe Stella tries to swallow the lump in her throat, “I know what I did was wrong, but I needed some comfort and Clay wasn’t here,” that’s about the dumbest excuse they’ve ever heard and Sonny doesn’t hesitate in telling her that, “you know what most people would do? Break up,” he tells her to which she rolls her eyes. “Well yeah, I tried that already,” and boy did it go terribly, they remember exactly how Clay was acting back in Mexico after the breakup and they never wish to see him like that again, however, they’d take that over yesterday any day.

“And then you got back together,” Trent finishes for her and Stella nods, a solemn look on her face, “I love him and I want to be with him, but it’s just hard,” and that’s wherein the issue lies, Jason can’t have one of his guys constantly looking like a kicked puppy and watching over his shoulder because he’s afraid that his girlfriend might break up with him at any second, he needs security just as much as they need to feel secure with him.

“Your selfishness is what lead to this, you want to have more than you can with him, ” Stella looks hurt by Ray’s words but Ray couldn’t care less at that moment, she’s hurt his brother so it’s only fair for her to feel a fraction of his pain, “if you want a guy to sleep with every night, a guy you don’t have to worry about, a guy that won’t return home with bruises littering his body, then Clay’s not that guy.”

“You can’t have Clay and have all of that,” Brock finishes off, plain and simple, and they all hope it’ll finally go through Stella’s head that whatever she and Clay had, it’s over, and she’s never getting it back. “I can try,” Stella defends like a stubborn child and Trent sighs deeply, “you already did, and look how that ended.”

Stella’s stoic face falls to make way for a defeated one, one that would have made them pity her, had the circumstances been different. Now when they look at her all they can see is the guilty face of a woman who hurt their brother.

Just as Jason’s beginning to believe that Stella might actually see things their way and get out their hair so that they can do what they came there to do Sonny has to go and ruin it, never one to keep his thoughts to himself. “If you ever date another military guy, for the love of God, don’t go whoring around when you get lonely, cuz if your luck’s run dry the guy might not take his anger out on the furniture like Clay boy did.”

Jason shoots a glare of disappointment at Sonny despite agreeing with him, some things are better left unsaid after all, especially such controversial things and especially in the presence of someone like Stella. “Excuse me?” her voice turns cold and shaky as if she’s physically holding herself back from pouncing at him and throwing a punch, not that she could ever succeed.

“You heard me,” Sonny replies and Stella clenches her fists and furrows her brows, her knuckles turning white as she stands huffing in front of them, “see...this is why I never made an effort to befriend you no matter how much Clay pressed,” not that Jason ever wanted to be friends with Stella, but it comforts him to know that while Stella was trying to steal Clay away from them, Clay wouldn’t let her. “You military men are all the same, sexist pigs who like to kill for pleasure, you’re no better than the people you’re fighting-” Sonny launches forward to land a punch but the boys are quick to catch him before he can.

“What the hell did you just say!” Sonny shouts at her, his face red with anger as he tries to launch again ut Jason steps in his way and grabs him by the neck, “hit her and your career’s over,” Sonny’s wild eyes fly up to meet Jason’s, “she’s not worth it, she’s worth nothing, do you hear me?” despite Sonny wanting to tell Jason to show his logical arguments up his ass he makes for a very convincing case, and Sonny knows that while Jason might be able to save him from some assholes torturing him in some shithole country he can’t save him if he decides to assault a civilian.

Ray decides, while Jason works on calming Sonny down, to address what they’ve just heard, because they can’t possibly let her get away with it. “You have no right to speak on such issues until you’ve been in the mud, assholes firing at you, not knowing if you’re gonna make it back home or if you’re gonna die right then and there. You sit at home, grade papers, go for a jog, fuck around with people that aren’t your boyfriend, and do you know why you can do that?” Stella levels him with a glare but Ray can tell she’s listening.

“‘Cause we’re out there, in the mud, or in the sand, or in the water, or wherever the fuck they decide to send us, we’re out there protecting you and when we come home we get told we’re the monsters, we’re the assholes, we’re the dangerous ones. If Jason lets Sonny go,” Ray points to where Jason’s still got a tight grip on Sonny, ”-then you’ll truly see what a trigger happy man looks like, but don’t think for a second that we’re out there cause we’re some psychopaths looking for prey, the psychopaths don’t fight wars,” Ray crosses his arms over his chest and stares Stella down, he’s finally had enough of her pathetic glare,”- they’re at home, running the big companies, the very same companies you buy from, profit from, all the while complaining about capitalism and sexism.”

Ray knows he’s ranting, knows he should stop and just kick her out, but now that he’s talking he realizes that there’s so much he’s wanted to say to her for a while now that he can’t stop. “Is there sexism in the US? Yeah, fuck yeah, and it sucks, but you don’t know half of it until you’ve seen what we’ve seen, you wanna talk about sexist pigs, come with us on a mission and we’ll take you straight to them.”

It’s not until silence settles on them that Ray realizes he’s standing barely 2 feet away from Stella and he can tell that she’s shaking despite putting up a cool front, she’s scared of him and all Ray can think is good, you should be . Trent goes to open his mouth but whatever he was about to say is silenced by the front door opening and Davis entering, broom in one hand and a sweatband laced across her forehead, “Lisa,” Stella says with relief, her voice is shaky and unstable but the relief is clear as day, finally someone who won’t yell at her or call her a whore.

“Raymond Perry, step away,” Davis practically orders through her teeth and Ray turns to her in disbelief, “wha-”

“Stella, come here,” Davis reaches out with the hand that isn’t holding the broom and Stella flies across the room to latch onto Davis as if she were a lifeline, “are you actually defending her?” Brock asks incredulously and the rest of the man turn to stare at her as well, Sonny looks betrayed, Trent looks disappointed- in that sort of sad dad way- Ray looks pissed and Jason...Jason doesn’t look like anything, he simply stares at her.

“Stella let’s go outside and talk,” Davis mumbles and Stella immediately nods and together they head out the door. “Thank god you’re here, they were absolutely awful in there! Sonny smashed my cup and tried to attack me and they called me awful things and-” the slap comes unexpectedly and Stella grabs her stinging cheek, her eyes filling with tears and she looks at Davis with betrayal. “Listen here, okay, I’m not your friend, I stopped being your friend as soon as you decided to betray Clay. I’m not gonna honor some invisible girl code or some shit like that, you’re a grown woman and you know damn well what’s right or wrong, I’m not gonna defend you, I’m not gonna protect you, I’m not gonna do anything for you. But you’re gonna do something for me.”

Stella says nothing as she looks at Davis with sad eyes, “you’re gonna go in there, head into the bedroom, strip the bed of its sheets and everything, then, you’re gonna pack your bag and leave. And you’re never gonna come back,” Stella moves to protest but Davis holds up a hand and Stella flinches, thinking she’s gonna get slapped again, “your other shit will be packed up in boxes and sent to you.”

Seemingly satisfied with the fact that her stuff won’t be thrown away or destroyed Stella nods tearily, “now, you’re also gonna delete my number, Clay’s number, and all the other numbers you have connected to any of us. And I know you might be thinking that they’re all grown-ups too and you should be able to stay friends with whomever you desire, and that’s true, but I can tell you right now that none of us want to be friends with you, not me, not Katie, not Maggie, not anyone. So you might as well spare yourself some time calling around asking and just delete the numbers now.”

Sighing shakily Stella lowers her gaze for a second before looking up and meeting Davis’, “I know I messed up, okay? I know , but you don’t have to punish me like this,” she pleads and Davis can barely believe what she’s hearing, after all she’s said, and after all she’s sure the guys have told her, she still believes this is about her.

“This isn’t about you, Stella. We’re not punishing you, we’re protecting Clay. None of us care what you do with your life after this, ‘cause we’re not interested in you, all we care about is Clay’s well being, and he can’t fully heal until you’re out of the picture. You’re simply a necessary sacrifice on the way to our goal, although you’re not much of a sacrifice,”  Davis mutters the last part, yet doesn’t bother to make sure Stella doesn’t hear.

Stella feels a few tears trail down her cheeks and she angrily wipes them away, she’s been yelled at enough as it is and doesn’t want to hear anything about how she shouldn’t be crying because she’s the one who put herself in this position, which...is true, but it doesn’t mean she wants to hear it.

The rest of the day passes by quickly, Stella packs quickly and quietly and before they know it she’s out the door. Brock passes by Davis on his way to the kitchen and nods his thanks, he doesn’t know what Davis said or did when she left with Stella, and frankly he doesn’t care, he’s just thankful that Stella's finally gone and they crack on with cleaning up the absolute mess that is Clay’s apartment.

Later in the afternoon when most of it’s been cleaned up and all the broken furniture has been removed and thrown away, they decide to head back to Jason’s place, Davis stays behind to pack away all of Stella’s stuff (the left that bit of work for her so that Sonny wouldn’t smash it and Brock wouldn't ‘accidentally’ set it on fire) but right before they leave Jason pauses in the doorway, “hey Davis,” she pauses with wrapping the cord to Stella’s hair dryer and looks up, “yeah?” Jason’s quiet for a second, like he’s turning the words he’s about to speak over in his head.

“How’d you get her to leave?” Davis shoots him a smile and snorts, “she just needed a little push...and maybe a slap,” Jason’s eyes narrow, “you hit her?”

“It was a slap, she barely felt it, won’t even leave a mark,” Davis defends and Jason sighs and pinches the space between his brows, “she won’t tell?” Davis may not be part of his team of six but she’s still a team member, a family member, and he can’t lose her over someone as unimportant as Stella. “Believe me, boss, she won’t tell, besides, even if she does, didn’t she technically overstay her welcome in there? Clay said she had til’ morning but I remember her leaving by lunch, those are some trespassing charges waiting to happen if she dares to utter a word.”

Jason fakes a shudder and grabs the handle of the door, “you’re scary when you’re angry, Davis,” he tells her with a small grin and Davis laughs quietly, “you coming over later?” she nods her head and gestures to the boxes around her, “as soon as I’m done.”

“See you later then, and thank you, Lisa,” she looks up at the use of her first name and sees Jason looking at her with grateful eyes, knowing Jason she knows he doesn't often turn into a big softy unless  it’s for his kids or Clay, so instead of turning soft on him too she replies, “you got it, boss,” and with that he’s out the door.

“She’s not coming back.”

“She’s not coming back,” Clay leans his head back on the armrest of the couch and looks up to the ceiling, Jason’s seated in front of him on a chair and he’s staring at him, watching his every move but Clay avoids his eyes. He’s not sure what he’s feeling, whether he’s relieved or devastated. All he knows is that he’s glad Stella isn’t still sleeping in his bed, on his sheets, in his home, he’s glad to know she’s not there anymore.

“Are you angry?” Jason asks bluntly, deciding there’s no use trying to gauge Clay’s reaction when he’s trained to keep his emotions in check, if Jason wants to know something he’ll grab the bull by its horns and ask. “No,” Clay chokes out, the lump in his throat making it hard to speak. Clearing his throat he looks away from the ceiling to meet Jason’s eyes, “no, I’m not angry, at least not with you.”

Silence falls between them as Jason leans back in his chair. Clay fidgets with his fingers, trying to think of something to say to put an end the stifling silence, “I wish we’d never gotten back together after Mexico,” out of all the things the younger man could have said Jason was not expecting him to admit that.

“Yeah?” Clay nods and wipes his hand across his brow, “yeah…” he hesitates and his gaze flickers between his hands and Jason, “I haven’t really been...feeling well, for a while now,” Jason’s brows furrow in concern and he leans forward with his elbows resting on his knees. “I’ve constantly been worrying about whether she’ll stay or leave me, sometimes I’ve even lost sleep over it,” Jason says nothing as he listens closely, this is one of the first times Clay has willingly talked so openly about his feeling and Jason’s not about to ruin the moment.

“I’m sad that we’re not together anymore, and I’m angry that she cheated, but I think this better...for the both of us,” Clay meets Jason’s gaze with tentative eyes like he’s afraid of what Jason might answer. But to his relief all Jason does is give him a small, comforting smile and pat his arm as if to say what he can’t say with words, I’m proud of you .

The moment’s broken by the sound of the door to the garden opening and Maggie stepping in followed by Cerberus, “so this where you two are hiding, Sonny’s about to start on the meat and-” Jason up and out of his chair before Maggie can even finish her sentence, “I told him no one touches my grill except for me,” Clay grins and shakes his head and Jason turns to look at him, “I gotta run before Sonny burns my backyard down, but...good talk, kid,” Clay simply nods as the moment requires no words and with that Jason’s heading out the door. Leaving Clay alone with Maggie and Cerberus, “everything okay?” Maggie asks just as Cerberus jumps up on the couch and lies down with his head on Clay’s stomach, before Clay can even answer Maggie snorts and sits down in the same chair Jason was just sat in.

“Sorry,that was probably a stupid question,” shaking his head Clay tells her, “nah, it’s alright, I’m better now,” and as the words leave him he realizes that he’s actually telling the truth, he does feel better now and it’s barely been a day since he found his girlfriend cheating on him in his bed.

Maggie cocks her head to the side and studies him for a moment like he’s a puzzle that she can’t solve, he squirms under her gaze. “You know,” she begins, her gaze turning to Cerberus, “as much as the guys put up a tough front, they’ll all sensitive babies on the inside,” with a frown Clay drags a hand through Cerberus fur and thinks over her words, what is she trying to say?

“All I’m saying is I’m sure you’ve gone your whole life hiding everything emotion from everyone, acting like nothing bothers you, like you’re fine...but with them-” she turns around in her chair to gaze out the windows into the yard where the guys are all sitting around drinking while Jason flips the meat on the grill, “-you don’t have to.”

As much as Clay wants to tell her she’s wrong he knows he’s not, knows that they only make fun of him when they know he can take it. He knows that they’re there for him, even when he just wants to be alone, and he loves them for it. “I know,” he tells her quietly, but that’s all it takes for her serious demeanor to crack and make way for a blinding smile, “good! Now, want to go out there and grab something to eat?” and as much as his leg still hurts and he’s tired enough to where he’ll probably fall asleep if he closes his eyes, he nods and lets Maggie help him up from the couch and out into the garden where his brothers are all in various states of drunk.

“Goldilocks finally decided to join us!” Sonny greets and Clay gives him a halfhearted wave, “how’s the hand feel?” Brock asks as Maggie sits down beside him and Clay shrugs and makes a fist, “yeah, it’s not a problem.”

“Good,” Brock acknowledges and takes a swig from his beer, “Clay boy here will be back on the field in no time, soon as that leg stops giving him trouble,” and as an afterthought he adds, “the hand is only a papercut” Clay cracks a smile at that, and leans back to get into a comfortable position. Closing his eyes he revels in the safeness he feels surrounded by his brothers and friends, the constant buzz of their laughter and their conversations lulls him to sleep once more and he’s only vaguely aware of the hand that brushes his hair and the voice that says, “let the boy sleep, Lisa,” before he falls asleep.