The final briefing had ended. Gaz stood, and almost immediately, stiffened. The aches shooting up his thighs and around his hips were like lightning. Flares of pain that traced across the lines his harness had wrapped. When he'd fallen from Nikolai's helicopter, the harness had strung tight, cutting the circulation off, slicing against skin and muscle and bone.
The throbs of pain left behind have Gaz stiffening in place, biting back a full groan of pain. Yes, he's well aware that he's been stabbed before, beaten and tortured and shot, but there is truly nothing like the bone deep aches he feels after missions. This time is significantly worse though, considering what happened this time. The moment passes quickly though, and Gaz straightens.
Straightens just in time, because Price turns back at the door, cocking a brow. "Solid, sarge?" The captain is staring at him expectantly, waiting for an answer. Waiting for Gaz to confirm that he's fine because if Gaz isn't fine that means Price will have failed. He will have been unable to protect one of his men from an injury.
Gaz dips his head, nodding, purely focused on keeping his expression smooth while he lies. "Solid, cap. Just thinking."
They're at an impasse for a moment, Gaz trapped beneath the weight of his captain's icy gaze. But Price just shrugs, turning and moving on. After a moment, Gaz does too. He can still feel the residual aches snapping up and down his limbs, muscles throbbing as he walks back to his quarters.
He'll be fine. This will pass. The pain always leaves him eventually, so he'll go to rest, sleep this off, and deal. It will be fine. He'll be fine.
The walk back to his quarters is simple enough, quiet. They'd gotten back relatively late, so most soldiers were already asleep. Most soldiers, but not Soap, jogging down the hall like he hadn’t been awake for the same fifteen hour trip home Gaz had been on. And promptly, much to Gaz’s chagrin, Soap skids to a stop, pinwheeling his arms when he nearly falls flat on his face.
Really, Kyle should have expected this. Expected the all too boisterous voice from his all too perceptive friend. "Gaz? You look tired, what's wrong?" Johnny's head is tilted, eyes wide and practically staring straight into Kyle's soul, a trait he's definitely inherited from the captain.
And yet, Kyle can't help but (mentally) cringe back. He may not be the youngest person on the taskforce, but he is the one newest to the military. [Even if it is only by a year or so.] He can't be so needy so soon. He can't have to step back so soon. He just can't.
So Kyle just shakes his head and shrugs. "We've been awake for almost a day. No shit I'm a little tired." He means it to come off sarcastic, another one of his snarky little quips to ease the tension he feels. Clearly, it works, based on the way Soap barks a laugh, clapping him on the shoulder before moving on. Gaz feels it down to his bones, shooting down his spine with shocks of electricity through his bones. A nap is definitely required.
After that, Kyle’s thinking surely, surely now, he can go to his room and rest, free from the utter exhaustion that is this bullshit day. That has to be it, right? No more conversations, no more questions, just a good, honest, nap.
But no. Of course not. Because Kyle turns the last corner to the dormitory hall, and can see his bedroom door. And can see Ghost leaning in front of it, head tilted back to rest against the wall while he waits. Given that he’s a sniper, there’s no out-waiting Ghost, and no getting around him either, since he’s planted himself directly in front of Gaz’s door. As Ghost would say, fuckin’ hell…
He approaches, well aware of the conversation that's about to happen, already building the mental walls. Approaching his door, Kyle sees the exact moment Ghost shifts, and he groans mentally. Halting at the door, Kyle stares up at him and waits. Just waits.
Simon looks down at him, eyes so brown they're almost black, and grunts. Grunts in that soft way that nonverbally means 'Status?' Kyle's well familiar with the tone from missions together, the soft sound coming over the comms to check in. It almost makes Kyle break, almost has his walls crumbling, knowing the most closed off member of his team waited to make sure he was alright.
But it doesn't. Kyle cocks a grin that looks real, his surety and swagger fake as he tries so hard to make Simon believe. "Green, LT. Perfectly fine." Another lie that sends a punishing bolt of pain down his spine.
From the look in his eyes, Simon clearly doesn't believe Gaz, but he grunts again and shoves off the wall, padding down the hall to his own room, letting Kyle be. The door swings shut behind him, and left alone, Gaz can finally do what he'd wanted all along. So he opens his own door, takes the few steps necessary to flop into his bed, sprawling out. Finally, finally he can rest. And within minutes, Kyle is out like a light. Finally asleep.
