#but i can draw a horse from memory pretty well. not to toot my own horn or anything

[mercuryislove]

if I could draw people even a little bit better my ass would be putting ciaran in this stupid outfit in soooo many Situations

[cookieswriting]

So this is one for Floopdeedoopdee on AO3, who requested Brock and Clay whump together. Hope you like this ;)

Fandom: SEAL Team

Characters: Clay Spenser, Brock Reynolds, Bravo Team

Prompt: Buried under rubble

“I’m just sayin’, when we get back stateside, we need to go out and have a boys-only night to get young Spencer back on the horse,” Sonny insisted as Bravo team made their way to the waiting Blackhawk.  The blonde in question rolled his eyes with a smile.

“You mean to tell me you’re going to exclude the best wingman you’ve got?!” Davis replied in their ears, drawing chuckles from all of the men.  Cerberus trotted ahead of them and leapt into the chopper easily and Brock shoved Sonny’s shoulder as he followed his canine partner.  

“Fine…boys plus Davis.”

Clay climbed into the chopper and settled in beside Brock.  “Don’t I get a say in whether or not I’m even interested in ‘getting back on the horse’?”

“No.”  

The flight was relatively quiet as the team prepared themselves for the op: confirm intel that their latest target was where he said he was, capture (or kill) him, and get back out before morning call to prayer.  Before the chopper had even fully touched down Bravo was on the move, bleeding into the shadows without sound and making their way towards their target building.  

Cerberus and Brock took point, and the dog was practically vibrating with anticipation when they reached the doorway.  After receiving confirmation that IR showed one in the building and no other souls in the immediate vicinity, Clay prepped the door with breaching explosives.  A firm nod from Bravo One and the explosive was detonated.  Brock followed Cerberus in, Clay’s hand on his shoulder as they moved to clear the first room.  Vicious barking erupted from the canine, and Bravo Six caught glimpse of explosives strapped to a man hovering in the doorway.

“S Vest!” he shouted.  In the same movement, Clay jerked back on Brock’s arm and grabbed the handle of Cerb’s tactical vest to haul him backwards - into the arms of a startled Sonny, who stumbled under the dog’s weight and back out into the night.  That was the last thing Clay saw before the suicide vest was activated and the building started to come down around the two members of Bravo still inside; he was thrown onto his back, and the blinding pain from his head connecting with the ground sent Spenser into peaceful oblivion.

“Clay! Brock!”

“Bravo Five, Six do you copy?”

“Bravo One, what the hell just happened?”

Sonny stared in shock as the dust started to settle.  Cerberus wriggled free from his arms and darted towards the now-blocked doorway, whining and pawing at the debris separating him from his master.  No...no way in hell did this just happen.  

“Havoc, this is One...tango was wearing an S Vest.  Bravo Six saw it right before it went off, forced Three and Cerberus back out.  The entrance is now blocked by debris, no sign of movement from Five or Six.  Can you see them from IR?”

“Negative, Bravo One...I can’t see any movement.  Can you get in to them?”

When Brock came to, the first thing he registered was an obnoxious ringing in his ears...then came the stabbing pain in his left arm.  A quick glance revealed that said arm had been pinned to the ground by a slab of what was most likely the wall previously standing between him and their target.  Turning his head, Bravo Five found Six a few feet away, half-buried under debris from the roof and utterly unmoving.  “Six?  Bravo Six, can you hear me?  Clay!”  Nothing.  “C’mon, brother…”

He paused when the sound of voices crackled through Clay’s radio, the rest of their team calling for sitrep.  With his free hand Brock reached for his own radio, only to realize it had been caught under the wall and therefore destroyed.  He attempted to reach out at touch Clay, but came up inches short.  Growling in frustration, he dropped his head back to the ground, and turned his thoughts to his dog...and Sonny, who’d been just behind Clay when they breached.  

It didn’t take long for his worries to be assuaged.  “Brock, GQ, if you two don’t respond toot-sweet I will be digging in just to kick your asses myself,” Sonny growled over Clay’s radio.  “The dog is getting antsy and you know how he is when he doesn’t get his way.”  The SEAL wished that he could reach Clay...wished that he knew for sure that he was even alive, wished that he could see the extent of whatever injuries he’d sustained...wished that they’d done more recon before breaching.

Unlike Brock’s gradual return to consciousness, it hits Clay all at once, memories of the explosion included, and he comes to shouting for the other man.  His head swivels around, sending stabs of pain from his temple down his neck, and the desperate attempts to move are useless; only his left arm is free, a chunk of debris covering his other limbs and weighing down heavily on his chest.  “Brock?!” he called again, grunting in desperation.

“Right here, brother...I’m good.  My left arm is pinned and my radio’s trashed.  What’s going on with you?”

The blonde took a moment, now that he knew his brother was alive and - relatively - safe, to assess his own status.  Despite the weight bearing down on him, all ten fingers and toes responded to the command to move, and doing so caused no further pain to indicate broken bones.  Well that’s a miracle…“Won’t be moving anytime soon and not sure if my chestplate will keep bearing the weight of this slab forever, but for now I’m good.”

“Good...any chance you can let the rest of the team know we’re alive?” Brock’s relief was evident in his voice, and Clay smirked as he reached up with his free arm to key his radio.

“Bravo One, this is Bravo Six...Five and I are both pinned under debris but otherwise no serious injuries.  Are Three and Cerb okay?”

“Six, it is damn good to hear your voice, kid.  Three and the hair missile are fine, both whining about getting you guys outta there,” Jason joked.  Clay chuckled and shifted his hips, and abruptly the breath was forced from his lungs as the debris covering him moved with him. What had been manageable pressure became agonizingly constricting, and he was moderately confident something had cracked in his ribcage or sternum.  Panic threatened to overwhelm him as breathing became more and more difficult.

“Clay! Clay, I need you to listen to my voice, you’ve gotta be as still as possible so you don’t shift that slab any more, okay?  I know you can’t catch your breath right now, but if you don’t slow it down a little bit you’re going to pass out on me, okay? Focus on steady, shallow breaths.”  The soothing tenor of his brother’s voice brought Clay back down to the point that he was able to maintain those shallow breaths and the darkness at the corners of his vision dissipated.  “Good, that’s great brother.  Can you pass me the receiver of your radio and I’ll talk to Jason?”  Clay nodded and obeyed, fingers barely brushing as they managed to bridge the distance between them.  “Bravo One, this is Five.  We’re gonna need you to hurry...the debris is unstable and has already shifted on Bravo Six.  He’s okay for now, but I’m not sure that’ll be the case if things shift again.  I can’t do anything to help him.”

“Copy that Bravo Five.  We’re double-timing, just sit tight a little bit longer.  Alpha and support are almost here to help with the moving.”

“Yeah, we’ll just be hanging out when you get here,” Brock replied with a wry, tired smile.  He hooked the receiver onto his vest and returned his attention to Clay.  “How you holding up, Spense?”

“Just me...or is it...a bit stuffy in here?” the blonde quipped.  Truthfully the darkness was creeping back in, his chest felt like it was caving in, and he wasn’t sure how much longer he would be able to keep up sniper breathing.

“Shit...Clay, stay with me, brother. You’ve gotta stay awake.  Talk to me, tell me-” Clay jerked his head around when Brock’s voice cut off with a strangled groan and an audible ‘pop’.  Bravo Five’s head dropped back against the ground limply.

“Son of a…” Clay keyed the radio at his shoulder.  “Guys...I think Bravo Five...may have dislocated his shoulder.”  He dropped his own head back and winced when it sparked fireworks behind his eyes.  Another groan from beside him let him know that Brock had woken again, and he turned his head to catch the older man’s gaze.  “You good?”

“Hurts like a mother, but pretty sure it’s just dislocated.  Did I black out?”

“Just for a minute,” Clay breathed.  Just as he opened his mouth to speak again, light cut through the doorway, quickly shadowed by a thickly-bearded face.  “Bout...time, Bravo Three…”

“I know you’ve been anxiously awaiting the sight of my handsome face.  We’ll have you two out in a hot second now that help has arrived.”  Their teammate was true to his word, and within moments both men had been inspected by an anxious Cerberus as Alpha and Bravo teams filed in, careful not to jar the slabs of wall and ceiling prematurely.  Six men surrounded Clay and in unison hefted the debris from the younger SEAL.  Jason and Ray deftly slid him out to a clear spot, and the others moved on to let Brock free as well.  As soon as Brock was free, Trent inspected his shoulder.  Clay watched silently, struggling to steady his breathing.

“Dislocation looks to be right.  You ready?” With a short nod and a steadying breath, Brock braced himself against a still-stable wall. Cerberus whined and nudged his good hand, providing sufficient distraction for Trent to reset the dislocated joint.  

“Ooooh sonofabitch…”  Trent felt his arm gently, content when nothing moved that shouldn’t.  “I’m good, thanks brother...check on Clay.”  The medic nodded and turned to the blonde, concerned by the paleness of Clay’s lips and his rapid breaths.  “We’ve got you, Spense, easy breathing remember?” Clay turned his head to look at Brock as he dropped to his knees and reached out with his good hand.  The blond took it, grateful for the physical connection after the rollercoaster they’d been on since entering the building.

“I’m going to take off your vest, Clay, see if anything’s broken, okay?”  Clay nodded and Cerberus laid his head across his knees in an attempt to offer comfort, just as he’d done for Brock.  Removing the vest did little to ease the pressure, and still Clay struggled to draw a deep breath.  Trent tried to be gentle in his assessment, but Clay couldn’t hide the hisses and winces of pain.  “This isn’t going to be fun but it might help stimulate bloodflow again and make it a little easier on your chest when you’re breathing,” Trent warned.  Clay nodded again, and clenched his jaw when knuckles rubbed firmly up and down his sternum.  As uncomfortable as it was, Clay found that by the time he stopped, breathing was in fact easier.  “Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Good...I’m gonna check your legs and the arm that was pinned just to make sure circulation is good everywhere else, and then we can get the hell outta here, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds like it’s about friggin time,” Sonny chimed from above them as Trent ordered Cerberus back.  The medic made quick work of checking Clay over, and then nodded to Brock to help get the younger man on his feet.  The abrupt change in altitude made everything spin, and a hand on his chest had him looking up into the concerned eyes of his favorite Texan.  “You sure you’re good Goldilocks?”

After giving the room a minute to stop spinning, Clay grinned at Sonny and squeezed both hands gripping his.  “Let’s go home, shall we?”  Trent let him go once he was sure Clay was steady, and Brock ducked under Clay’s arm, careful not to jar is own injury.  With each step they took towards exfil, the pair surrounded by their teammates and the support team, the weight on Clay’s chest lifted.