The Soldier and The Spy: Jay Halstead - Episode 1

Chapter 7

The sound of the safety being clicked off a gun woke him in a second and in another he was up but then it was total confusion, his brain struggling to comprehend the view of the harbour with the strange room around him until his hand pressed into the warm sheets and it all came flooding back. Tess, the Bratva, the Chief, the cat and the purple hair. The feeling of her in his arms. But she wasn't in them now and another click had him quickly but quietly scrambling off the bed, grabbing her sweats and his own gun before he made his way down the stairs, noticing three things as he did.

First, the pants were too tight.

Second, they were on backwards.

And third, they were his.

From when he was still in the Rangers. He knew because when he looked down he could just make out the faded ARMY letters. It was the pair he'd given Tess the first time he'd gone to check on her.

"They won't fit great, but they'll do the trick."

He shouldered open the door to Tess's hospital room, rather one of the doctors rooms that he'd demanded they give her rather than putting her out in the open with the rest of the soldiers in the Med Bay, gripping the edges of the dinner tray, Mouse's small radio balanced precariously on top and a set of his clothes tucked tightly under one arm. Being the kind and humble man Jay was he'd run out to get her some new clothes, though in truth he would have done anything to get her out of that flimsy hospital gown. He didn't know why someone hadn't already, though he supposed no one else had been able to get close enough to try. He gazed at the girl in front him, how a spark lit in her eyes as he walked in and how the bruises on her face were starting to fade, though she had a while yet before she'd be fully healed. What she'd gone through... he didn't know the details, and he wasn't sure if he wanted to. Tess watched him kick the door shut, eyeing the tray as he slid it on the beside table and staring distastefully at the sad bowl of broth atop it. He'd stopped by the kitchens on his way back, knowing she would need something more than the little she'd had. Not that the bland liquid was filling.

She didn't seem to register what he'd said, still frowning as he passed over the clothes, and he had to smother a smirk. Twenty minutes ago she'd been laughing at him and now he had the feeling she wanted to smack him. "Hey, I told you. You don't eat, I don't eat." He told her, unable to hide the amusement in his voice.

"Then where's your bowl?" She countered, unimpressed.

"Oh, I'm not eating the broth. I'm eating this." He grabbed the dinner roll and waved in the air before taking a bite. "Can't have you wasting it." He said as he chewed, grinning when she made a face, though after a minute he had to fight to keep his expression neutral as the texture of the bun settled in. Now he could see why she'd thrown up the first one. The roll was drier than the desert outside; it had probably been like a hockey puck in her stomach.

She tried, and failed, to hide a knowing smile as she picked up the sweatpants but it faded as she shook them out and laid them over her legs.

"Want some help?" Jay asked softly. They both knew she needed it but if she wanted to do it herself he wouldn't push- he wasn't going to make her do anything she wasn't comfortable with.

Tess took a moment to look between him and the pants before she nodded, and he was surprised by the wave of relief that washed over him when she did. He grabbed the clothes and crouched down as she swung her legs over the side of the bed, doing his best to avoid staring too long at the burns and bruises that marred her skin. A deep rage filled him as he remembered the way one of her captors had gripped her by the hair when she'd tried to flee, how her head had whipped to the side when he'd smacked her and how she'd trembled in his arms as he carried her back to the truck because she was too weak to walk. It made him sick but Jay comforted himself by saying those men would pay. He would see to it that they did. He slid the socks on her feet and spread the waistband of the sweats wide open, gently pulling the material over her ankles until her feet poked out and then he carefully slid them up to her thighs, once again forcing himself to calm and focus on the present when he saw the burns on her thighs. She was safe now and that was all that mattered. He took one of her hands and slowly pulled her with him as he stood, the other hovering at her side as she steadied herself against his shoulder and tugged them the rest of the way up, and as she did he realized for the first time just how tall he was in comparison to her; the top of her head only reached his chin. It was probably wrong, definitely wrong, but he couldn't help thinking that if she tilted her head up just a touch she'd be the perfect height for him to kiss her.