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"I'd be considerably more glad if you weren't spilling your food all along the side of the Humvee like a fucking redneck", Brad grinned as he sat down beside Ray. He folded his legs as he slid down, resting his back against the wheel, unopened MRE in his hand. He looked at him from the side, shaking his head, tone still amused, "don't know how you do it."

It really wasn't Ray's fault, his mouth and him were a touch and go. He shrugged and looked over at Brad as he remarked that he was a fucking redneck, "Hey! At least my mom loved me enough to take me to NASCAR!" He chuckled and leaned back, he only joked, he liked to just be the joker--though-- "Oh, you just do it Brad, here." He reached over and opened the MRE, handing it back to Brad, "Then you eat it." Ray was kidding but boy was it fun.

"I was referring to your unmitigated talent of getting food all over your face, not hinting at the possibility that I might be incapable of opening my MRE", he quirked Ray a thankful smile anyway, peering into the bag and reaching for the pork sausage.

"Live a little", he gave a shrug and bit into it as if for him this was more of an act of rebellion than gunning down an enemy village without going through the right channels and following protocol as they ought to have done. And, he was actually enjoying it, the gravy running down his fingers as he chewed in satisfaction - though not in a million years did he make as big of a mess of things as Ray would have.

Brad had his way with words to make Ray speechless, but it never lasted long enough to give the male some peace of his time. Ray couldn't help but to grin when he watched Brad eating a pork sausage. This was just too good to pass, "Your going to hell Brad."

Ray grinned and peeked over at the male before looking ahead, resting his hand upon his knees, holding his knees close before hugging them. He was having a hard time finding a position to feel comfortable in. He found this position as most solitude-like, "Woah! This is coming from the Ice Man? Telling me to live a little. Wow Brad. Wow! Thanks! Wow."

"The fuck I will. We already are in hell. Or purgatory", Brad answered, still half chewing on the sausage. When he swallowed and had licked his lips clean, he resumed in licking his fingers clean of the gravy as his eyes lingered on the other man, seeing him change positions as if he was sitting on hot coal. He watched in silence for a good minute, before he stretched out his arm to put his hand on Ray's knee, steadying him. "Calm down, have you got ants in your combat wear or something? How much ripped fuel did you take...?", he frowned slightly at the thought that he hadn't slept in 36 hours. Which meant that Ray hadn't either. And being the driver for the past 24 hours, he must have been considerably more tired than Brad. Most of the others were already settling down for the night, and he'd actually put them on the watch without thinking. "You should dig in for a few hours. I can do this by myself." It wasn't like there was a very big chance of being overrun at this time, and there were more people watching the individual lines. He would make due.

"Shit Brad, don't be such a Dr.Obvious about it." He rose his arms into the air, presenting and pointing at everything around them, "I bet even Hell isn't worse than this shitter." When Ray's hands returned to the same position as to hugging his knees as before, he felt Brad's hand over them, making him glance over, "Yeah Brad, I got fuckin' fire ants just having a god damn mosh pit in my ass crack." He didn't bother to move his hand away from Brad's hold, "Uh...bout....a mouthful? Shit Brad, what are you now? My mom?!" He rolled his eyes before facing away and shaking his head upon the request, "Naw, ain't fuckin' tired." He peeked over at Trombley who was catching some sleep with Walt, surprisingly, the Reporter was up and walking about, "...why don't you fucking sleep? Aren't you fucking tired? How are you not tired from your eyes straining to look out for Hajis in the dark? I bet if your eyes had muscles to flash off, it'd be fuckin' sexy as fuck."

"It probably is. We'll have something to look forward to, at least", he laughed at Ray's nonsense and his comment about not being tired. Of course he wasn't, he was probably dosed up to his neck with Ripped Fuel. Or well, most definitely was. He'd never get down from his high now, they weren't doing anything, Ray would be up for hours if he didn't get tired out by something. Brad shrugged, "I've have to go on a patrol in a few. Northern perimeter, couple of clicks out. According to Nate, that hill over there is our only blind spot, so I volunteered for a recon patrol so the others could get some shut-eye. And Ray, straining my eyes is practically my job, plus, you're not particularly bad looking either way." He fell silent, then gave Ray's hand a squeeze, "if you are not going to sleep, join me. I know sitting here will just drive you crazy. More so than you already are." He joked, letting go of Ray, reaching for his water and taking a few sips. He got up then and grabbed for his M4 Carbine, before holding out his hand to help the other man up onto his feet.

Ray's body was at the brinks of blowing up from the overdose of Ripped Fuel. Ray's eyes blinked closed, he didn't know what to do but to close his eyes to calm down, feeling Brad's hand still over his own to calm him down. Or maybe it was his intention to, "...Yeah yeah, of course we will. Juggs." He grinned while looking up ahead, hearing that Brad had to go on a patrol, before Brad even asked, he looked over, "Fuck, and you didn't tell me this until now, because?" He felt Brad's hand leave his and watched him take a stand, taking Brad's hand, he took a stand, "Fuck, I ain't just here to sit around and do nothing Brad. Here to fucking make myself useful to how the US Marines trained me. And besides..." He grinned and looked over at Brad, "...there ain't no rest for the wicked."

"Because I need my RTO well rested, that's why", Brad answered, pulling Ray to his feet, "but seeing as you won't be able to settle until you burn off some of that energy I think I don't have a choice. Gear up and take some water, it's enough clicks out to take us a while", he checked his ammo - God forbid they did run into trouble and he ran out halfway through - and then checked the batteries of his night vision. It was all in good order. "I doubt we will run into any trouble. Intel suggests the area is dead - and I checked a quadruple times", he added the last to make sure Ray understood that the intel was Brad's, and trustworthy, and not just passed down, unchecked, from their incompetent superial officers. "But there might be civilians out there." He just spoke while Ray had time to get himself ready too.

"Burn off the Ripped Fuel...hm...this better fuckin' involve Jasmine's sweet ass, or else I'm not going to be burning anything." Ray joked with a grin, as he made his way around the Humvee. For long as Ray could remember, even if their company did their best to help the civilians, the Military head didn't really give a shit. They killed, bombed, and attacked civilians. Be it accidental or false intel, it was just all death and they were all the same within their eyes, "Shit Brad pretend that our orders were to shoot anything in sight, be it fuckin' civilian or not...doesn't it really not matter? Thinking about civilians that is?" Though it wasn't their mission at the time, Ray just wanted to point out, "I mean it's not our mission right now but, what's the fucking point? They make us work so hard to fucking pick out the enemies and then--poof." His hand motioned before walking over to Brad while fixing his helmet, "They kill them all, don't you feel that sometimes, we're looking for the needle in a sack that doesn't even have the needle?"

"Doubt it, Ray, can't bring any porn magazines on a recon, I wish I could ease your mind, there. Unless you count some of those curtain draped hajis baking bread in their beehive-type ovens with eight children at their feet at age sixteen, as beauties, I don't think you will get some sexual release. Brad started to walk at a steady pace, shrugging at Ray's chatter, "what is your point, Ray, are you saying we should shoot everyone just to prevent having to double back and do it later? Unless you want to be court-martialed I don't suggest we should carry out that idea. Let's just stick with our SOP and try not to stir up any trouble out there." He walked quietly, switching on night vision as they left their made shift camp of parked humvee's and dug in marines. "I never did take the presence of civilians lightly", he added, "they can carry an AK-47 as well as the next man." He frowned at the thought of having to shoot anything that hadn't gone through the training they had. They stood no chance. It was essential not to think about these things, but he did it anyway. Not that he voiced those thoughts, only when the incompetence around him got too much, then the little icy bubble burst and he did. Something especially Nate didn't appreciate, something that annoyed him, but their Lieutenant was at least smart and fair, unlike McGraw, or Captain America as they had nicknamed the psycho.

Ray's eyes looked over at Brad, shit if they could only bring a porn magazine, only if they could. Ray walked around the Humvee before walking back up to Brad once again, checking around, "You know I don't mean that Brad. What I'm just saying is that we should always be ready, because you never know when one of our higher ups will lose it and kill a bunch of civilians without the help of air cover." Yes, Ray was talking about Captain America, Ray was expecting that man to snap at some rate into the future, didn't matter if it was today or tomorrow, or maybe even next week, it was something that was bound to happen, "I mean he's completely losing it an--" As soon as Ray made sure his helmet was fixed, there was a gunshot, and followed by a grunt, and body drop. Ray was on the floor, his helmet still on him. The bullet had barely grazed Ray's helmet but from the small impact, a domino effect, making him fall onto the floor from the shock. He lied for awhile before blinking awake. Hurrah for the fucking Ripped Fuel. Ray quickly sat up and looked at Brad, "Shit Brad. I just fucking died! YOU MOTHER FUCKERS!" Ray shouted before looking over, reaching for his now dropped M4A1, trying to stand up, only to fall back down from the bodily shock.

If there was one nightmare Brad would have when he did get some shut eye for forty minutes at zero-dark-thirty before someone woke him up to attend a nonsense meeting, it was that he got one of his men killed. His Trombley or Walt or even the reporter. He didn't even want to imagine his Ray getting shot, it was impossible for him to imagine having to go on without that quirky redneck that, more often than not he openly felt like strangling to death himself just to get a few moments of peace and quiet. But when he heard the shot, almost felt it soar past him and then... fuck, everything seemed to go in slow motion. He was at Ray's side in an instant, checking him over, literally covering him with his own body before turning around, M4 quickly searching, his breathing steady and calm until... there, sniper, brush, aiming at him. It only took one bullet and Brad had him down, then he snatched Ray, dragging him to cover. "Fucking hell Ray, don't you dare fucking doing this to me ever again", he was annoyed, his calm mask dropping and the fire apparent within him. "Fuck", but it wasn't aimed at Ray, he was annoyed at himself for not checking ahead. For letting this happen. He snatched Ray's helmet off of his head, staring down at him, more trying to convince himself that the other man wasn't hurt, "you're okay... you're okay. Ray... are you okay?"

Ray's body was rattled, he was rattled, mostly from the shot but other from the ripped fuel. Ray watched feeling rather useless while Brad single handedly gunned down the sniper. It was a great amount of distance but boy, Ray felt extremely rattled. He had just died, well he was alive, but if he slipped a little, he would have died. If he forgot his helmet, he would have died, if he was moved few inch in the wrong direction, he would have died. He shook out a sigh before feeling himself being dragged to cover, hearing Brad annoyed by all this. It was from fear, he never saw Brad so not calm, "...shit Brad...calm the fuck down...I won't. Ok? So fucking chill man..." Ray didn't know what else to say, seeing Brad like this, hearing Brad curse. He swallowed hard before rubbing the side of his helmet which was shot at, before feeling the helmet being taken off of his head. Ray felt like a child being taken care of by their mother upon their first fall from the jungle gym, "Yes Brad...yes Brad. --Shit...YES BRAD!" He looked up and took away his helmet from Brad's hand, he felt unsafe without his helmet, but seeing Brad like this annoyed him. He wanted the chill Brad. The Iceman. Ray just kept his eyes upon Brad, "I'm ok Brad. So calm down..." But Ray couldn't help but to melt a smile from the amusement, seeing Brad panic like this just for him--though he was sure that he would have done it for everyone. Ray just wanted to feel it a little, "...thanks for letting me know though, that someone would give a shit about me if I died." He looked up at Brad with his round puppy eyes before taking it off of Brad to peek over to the side and back, "...I think you killed the mother fucker Brad...damn it you took my kill." It was a joke but, Ray was just trying to get himself now back on the track from being rattled, he could feel his heart still pound, it was something that just rattled him pretty well. At least now he knew there was something to make him shut up, exception of lack of Ripped Fuel.

Brad withdrew his hands, hands that were touching Ray, brushing over his hair, checking if he really wasn't bleeding and he sat back on the ground beside him, rubbing over his face, trying to get himself back together. "Sorry", he shook his head, tightened the chin strap of his own helmet and watched Ray. "I had to make sure you weren't hurt. Sometimes, well, you went through boot camp, you learned this shit too, sometimes you don't even notice you are shot, that you are hit, but you bleed out because the adrenaline is too, is too...", fuck, he really was out of it when he couldn't even phrase the most simple sentences right. He pulled his M4 up to him, kissed the side of the barrel, "I would take that kill again, Ray. He was aiming right for us, I saw his face, fucking Haji pyjama wearing fuck didn't even blink. Shot him right between the eyes, fucking bastard."
Yes, Brad really had lost his calm, and he couldn't find it back. He looked at Ray's helmet, saw the graze of the bullet there, and it made him angry. One step to the side or the wind blowing just the right way and his RTO would have had his brains blown out. "Don't fucking die on me Ray." He looked down, shaking his head before rubbing his eyes a second time. If there was a sniper out there, there could be more. He reached for his radio and passed on what had just happened. Hitman... their call sign had turned slightly morbid in his mind as he turned back towards the other Marine. "Recon. If you can walk, we will have to clear the area in question. If not... I can wake up Trombley. Up to you, Ray."

Ray's lip continued to tug a smile, watching Brad being protective over him. He didn't know why, but Ray found this very--comforting. His eyes widened in surprise when Brad reached out to place his hand upon his hair, looking through and checking to make sure Ray was ok, "You're like a mother monkey Brad." Ray's eyes blinked to look at Brad, seeing him worry was nice but still, "...thanks Brad, you make me feel much in good mother hands..." He grinned before fixing his own helmet back onto himself. Ray wasn't going to lie, he was still shaken up from the shot but he couldn't let that stop him. He was still a Marine, that was going to happen a few more times and Ray might escape them all or might just lose it, but for now, he didn't want it to really get him.

"...If you're going to this Recon, I'm fuckin' going with you." Ray stated before fixing himself again, touching himself to make sure he was all in one piece for the last time, "And besides..." He glanced up at Trombley before peeking back at Brad, "...even our fucking psycho needs his rest..." Ray then rose his hand, placing it on Brad's shoulder to help the man calm down. Even if it didn't help as much, at least Ray was trying, "Thanks for carin' Brad. Now come back Ice Man."

"There's nothing to fucking smile about, Ray", Brad said, slightly irritated at the smirk on the other Marine's lip. This was serious, and he didn't see the humour in this situation. Yes, okay, maybe Brad was overreacting just a little, maybe he had lost his grip in his usual calmness, but that was all the more reason to see the seriousness in it. "You could have died."

He shook his head and got up, pulled Ray to his feet another time, though he kept his hand lingering against his back - a ghost of a touch, just in case. He closed his eyes just briefly, two seconds, and after a deep breath he was back, back to being iceman and calm and settled and his head on the mission ahead. Someone had to check out that body, but he had passed it on to the others, sure Nate would be sending out a team for that. "You got some fucking Angel looking over you, I swear", he muttered, before steadying his M4 and making his way towards the distant hill, eyes alert, checking out every possible corner with his night vision well in place.