They had a chance.
The rings were harder for him than he'd like, and he promised himself to figure out how to work around his bulk on those, but that was for later, because they were rapidly running out of time now.
"Come on, come on, come on," Travis was chanting at him—and at himself, probably, but it pushed Dave to run harder anyway until they both paused in front of the ten-foot wall with a clear surface and nothing to hold onto until the top, where there was a big ball they needed to drop to complete the task. "I'll give you a boost, then run on the other side to catch the ball."
No time to argue, Dave nodded and took a deep breath before positioning himself, then placing his foot in Travis's hold and—holy fuck.
Not expecting to be thrown this high, he scrambled to get a hold on the handles on top.
He had them, he just needed to scramble a bit higher, but his elbow was at a weird angle, and he was going to do some serious damage to it if he tried to push up on it. If he relaxed his grip, he could—
He was falling before he even finished the thought.
CHAPTER THREE
For all that Travis was aware that one's perception of time could become distorted in a stressful situation, he also knew it didn't happen all that often.
Almost never, really, and Travis had been in some pretty fucking stressful situations.
But now as he heard Dave fall, as he listened to something inside him break at the impact—which should be impossible, but human body was capable of some awful shit, all things considered—the time it took from Travis registering it to him getting to the other side of the wall and dropping onto his knees next to Dave seemed to have taken forever.
Then Dave grunted in pain, and it slashed right through the litany of swear words that was running in Travis's head, anchoring him back to here and now.
"What is it? What's wrong?" he asked, stupidly, hoping against hope that it wasn't… That it didn't…
"Something's definitely broken," Dave managed through clenched teeth, but he didn't even glance at Travis. He stared at his leg as he went paler and paler.
Before Travis could say anything, Kalei was there, crouching on Dave's other side. The rest of the team was only a few steps behind, but Travis didn't want to look at them.
Didn't want to see what he knew had to be on all their faces.
"You with us?" Kalei's no-nonsense voice was like a splash of cold water, and Travis's back straightened involuntarily.
So did Dave's. "Yeah, but I'm not getting up on my own. My leg's broken."
A chorus of muffled swears and hisses came from the group behind Kalei, but the man only nodded before turning back towards them.
"Martinez, call 9-1-1. Tanner, come see if you can do something as we wait."
Travis curled his hands into fists against his thighs, helpless and stuck in place, unable to—
"Move." Melissa appeared next to him. "I need to get to his leg and you're in my way."
Scrambling onto his feet so fast he almost stumbled, Travis made room for her only to kneel again right by Dave's head.
He would trust anyone here with his life—and he did, on a daily basis—but this was Dave, and he was hurt, and it was Travis's fault, all of it.
Travis needed to get a grip, though.Right now.
Ashen-faced and obviously trying to control his breathing, Dave was still staring at his leg, and when Travis followed his line of sight, he probably turned the similar shade, because,yeah, that was definitely a break.
It wasn't an open fracture, at least, but the bump in Dave's calf was obvious enough.
"They're on their way." Martinez stepped closer, his face unusually serious. He was an upbeat guy outside of the ops, and they'd been shooting shit merely minutes ago.
Not anymore.
Melissa nodded. "I'm not going to touch it, then. Unless you need support to remain in that position?"