Chapter Text
BRAVO'S KID
Prologue:
He sat slumped in a corner, eyes half-mast and lazily drifting over the chaos around him. Glass littered the floor, heat rushing in from where windows should be. Half the walls weren’t standing, but the one he leaned on, somehow supported his weight without tipping over.
His ears were ringing, pulse throbbing at his temples, stomach clenched tightly along with his jaw, and the distant wail of sirens barely registering as he fought the encroaching darkness.
Sticky wetness dripped steadily down his face, mixed with dust and grime, spattered his neckline and dribbled unevenly, soaking into the fabric of his shirt.
Limp hands twitched, but made no move to swipe at it.
He was there, not here.
Shouldn’t be here at all.
Someone was gonna be pissed.
At him.
Again.
Or something...
He listed to the side.
Couldn’t straighten if he tried.
Panted, or gasped, ribs shifting and rubbing against each other. The wall he’d hit was barely ten bricks high now.
The wall deserved it.
It hurt to breathe, would hurt more if he didn’t manage to quell his nausea. Wished he knew what he was doing there.
On the floor, sitting on broken glass.
Wished he knew why he was worried that someone was mad at him.
“Hey! HEY! Kid, come on.” The gruff voice only managed to confuse him further.
He didn’t know who owned it.
Wasn’t one he cared for.
Who’s kid was he looking for?
His own?
He hadn’t seen any kids around, well not that high up anyway.
A sting on his left cheek roused him slightly.
Didn’t do much else.
Brows furrowed, he sought out the wavering figure washed in a halo of bright.
Or was it light?
“Come on, don’t do this. Look at me.”
Rough hands grabbed at his chin, tilted his head upwards, one hand on his shoulder, keeping him from hitting the ground.
“Bravo one is gonna kill me anything happens to you.”
Bravo…he supposed he was familiar with that word.
It kinda felt safe.
He blinked.
Drooled, because swallowing was too hard, a mixture of spit and blood joining the spatter party on his tac vest.
Bravo triggered something in his mushy brain.
“Boss?"
There was something he needed to do.
Go high?
He followed the order, got high.
Was that why he felt so out of it?
Was he high?
“High.” He stated.
The warped person in front of him cursed softly, gentled his hold.
“Yeah kid, you went high.” The voice faded, came back louder.
Bravo was definitely gonna kill him. Matt was Bravo support. Gunfight in the street below and Master Chief Hayes had given the order for Clay to go high. It was his job to follow, make sure he covered for him.
Kid was almost done climbing the first flight of stairs before he saw him move. Matt had followed as quickly as he could. He barely heard two shots before the boom. It happened so fast. Wasn’t in time to do anything but stare at debris.
It took Matt a few precious seconds to realize that there was actually sound in the room.
A sawing, wheezy, unhealthy sound.
He landed on his knees in front of Clay, could feel the butt of the kid’s sniper rifle against his thigh, but his hands made no move towards it, holding on to Bravo’s special cargo instead.
The blast came from up high too. Grenade from the building across. There weren’t much spaces between the buildings, narrow alleys and all. It took a chunk out of the building he was in, blew a piece of the roof off and almost the whole kid too, all before he made it up the last stair. He bet someone had eyes on Clay and decided to eliminate the threat he posed before he could cause any more damage.
Clay had raced towards his vantage point ticking off tangos and clearing Bravo’s path with precision after he’d been told to go high. He was headed for the roof, probably stopped when he saw the grenade. Whoever it was across the road was dead, part of his body hanging out of the window, head blown in half. Matt had been on his tail, been told to back him up, keep watch.
But he’d been too late.
All he’d felt was the shudder of the room as it thundered and crashed around Clay. Kid probably made the decision to divert his aim. Had the grenade gone down as intended, Bravo would have been down to two.
“Six! Sitrep!” Hayes barked through the coms.
Matt swore when the befuddled Seal heard the request and furrowed his brows, eyes tracking the carnage, looking for the six on the ground instead of responding on com.
Found nothing but rubble and grit, ash and smoke.
Blinked.
Blinked a moment longer.
Shut his eyes and didn’t open them again.
“Six is down. Require assist. Medical evac. Repeat, Six is down.” Matt answered for him.
Lucid for barely a moment before darkness claimed him, Clay remembered that he was supposed to be clearing the street for his team.
He still needed to, tried, but his body bid against him, finally shutting down.
As Clay sank into the abyss, lucidity passed, he wondered why he was afraid.
Maybe because he was here…
Should have been there…
Somewhere else, and someone was gonna be pissed.
No, he was afraid because his brothers already were…
The moment Matt answered, all five men were on the move. Ray picked off a gunman turning at the entrance of the building before he was at Jason’s heels, Trent having already made it in. Sonny had gone wild, firing blind until all fire ceased.
Brock pulled the Texan roughly away from the open street and into the alley. No return gunfire, thank goodness. Each step was a mile long for the members of Bravo. Each brother praying for the best while fearing the worst.
There would be no forgiveness if the kid didn’t make it out alive. Hell, there would be no more Bravo…
Their support team kept the road clear, Blackburn and Davis barking orders at control to have a chopper ready for transport. Most of the roof was still intact. Small miracle, but they’d take it. Jason could only think of one thing as he shoved past Ray and skid to a stop beside Trent, heart in his throat as he eyed the limp figure in front of him. They could not lose the kid.
Not now.
Not like this.