Separation, Anxiety

[notjustaface]

It hadn't been a particularly hard mission, at least not by comparison to some of the stunts they've managed in the last ten years, but there was one fatal point where it could fall apart. Face had approximately sixty seconds to make it from tunnel to the next - a journey that shouldn't take more than forty-five seconds - before enemy's defensive explosion went off leaving him not only trapped but pinned down and unable to escape assuming he survived the event.

An unexpected sniper cut thirty seconds off the time he had. He was four seconds too late... just behind enough the blast didn't take him out - but not out. He was trapped behind the line, and utterly fucked.

"Put her in the air, Captain." Hannibal says softly, staring at the plume of dust and debris for any sign that Face had made it through last second. There was none.

Comments

[notjustaface]

Between the trauma and the heavy painkillers, he's too far gone to even recognize the voice.

"Just kill me!" He groans hoarsely, grabbing for the IV line; "I'm done."

[notthatcrazy]

"Face, listen to me," he says, trying to keep his voice steady as he tries to keep him from hurting himself in his panic. "Focus on my voice. You're in the hospital. Nothing's gonna hurt you here."

[notjustaface]

Something familiar hits him, but he's too panicked to even notice. With as hard of a yank as he can manage, he pulls free the IV and sits - up, yanking the air hose out of the wall as he tries to make it out of the bed.

"You can't keep me here!"

[notthatcrazy]

Machines are beeping all around them abd he's almost yelling as he tries to talk him down, hitting the call button for help. The last thing he wants is to see him sedated again, but if he can't be reached through the trauma, they might not have a choice.

"Listen to me. You need to stop."

[notjustaface]

Managing open cold and bloodshot eyes, Face lets out a hollow laugh with a bloody smile. "Ohh no you don't... fuck you. Put all the drugs in me you want, fuck you."

The smile turns sour and he swings wide to try and land a weak punch on the blurry image that's pretending to be Murdock in his mind. "You should have fucking killed me when I was out."

[notthatcrazy]

"No one's killing anyone. It's me, i promise."

The cavalry finally arrives as he makes one last effort to get through to him.

"Remember Montreal? The cruise ship?"

[notjustaface]

"Fuck you!" He screams, pulling against the orderlies trying to restrain him until BA pins him down hard at both shoulders and Hannibal straps his ankles to the bed.

"None of this real! I'm not crazy! Kill me damn it!"

[notthatcrazy]

He knows better than to take any if this personally, but it hurts to see him like this, and the restraints are bringing back uneasy memories. For the first time since this all started, he feels like it's too much to bear.

[notjustaface]

"Maybe you should... uh..." Hannibal swallows back a knot in his throat and nods toward the door; "go get some coffee, all right? It's gonna a long day."

Face screams again, his heart rate spiking as the doctor injects him with another sedative - if nothing so they can clean up the blood and re-run his IV.

"We can take care of this."

[notthatcrazy]

There's really nothing else he can do here, which only makes him feel worse. Hee only makes it as far as the waiting room before his strength gives out and he curbs up in a corner chair, letting the tears out quietly.

[notjustaface]

About twenty minutes later, BA emerges and heads straight out the door - Hannibal following close behind but opting to sit down across from Murdock's crumpled form.

"He's sleeping," he says softly, reaching across to pat him gingerly on the shoulder. They've both known POWs - they both know bouncing back from what he's been through isn't fast or easy.

[notthatcrazy]

The worst of the crying has subsided but he's still a little shaky as he nods.

"Guess I should've expected something like that."

He's been through a lot. It'll take time to help him through it.

[notjustaface]

"Gave BA a hell of fat lip..." he manages to half-laugh, offering a slight smile.

Clearing his throat, he licks his lips and adds; "We'll keep him sedated until we can move him. BA's coming back with a truck, there's a safe house a couple hundred miles south we should be able to make it there tonight."

[notthatcrazy]

No wonder he ran out so fast.

"I've just...been on the other side of that, you know?"

Not the torture, but the panicking and not knowing what's real? He gets that.

"Can I ask you somethin', Boss?"

[notjustaface]

Leaning back, wiping a fine mist of sweat off his brow as the clinic starts taking in other patients for the day.

"Sure Murdock," he answers, settling back in as much as he can; "you know that."

[notthatcrazy]

"Did I do good today?"

It's not often that he needs validation - he's usually pretty comfortable with himself. But sometimes he needs to hear it.

[notjustaface]

The soft voice is enough to draw a fond smile from the older man, relief and weariness after what they've all been through.

He nods, reaching across the small gap between them to pat his shoulder again. "You did good, Captain. Above and beyond the call of duty."

[notthatcrazy]

He gives him a small but grateful smile.

There's not much else to do but wait until BA returns. With a protective nod, he hands Murdock a to-go cup - not coffee, but a milkshake from the burger joint up the road, half chocolate and half strawberry the way he likes it. BA gives him an awkward, one-armed hug before moving to the facing seats to talk to Hannibal.

The unexpected kind gesture almost makes him cry again.

[notjustaface]

Food makes everything a little easier to handle.

"Scanners are lit up, boss." BA shakes his head, biting into a big burger that's probably not his first of the morning. "We're gonna have to move soon. You pissed off a lot of high-ranking terrorists..."

"Did you get a clean vehicle?" Hannibal asks, calm and confident as he can be.

"Minivan, fold down seats. Clean plates. You know I do good work, man."

[notthatcrazy]

He really can't even think about eating right now, but the shake is good.

"How long 'til we can move out?"

[notjustaface]

"As soon as he's stable." Hannibal answers, taking much smaller bites of his meal. "We can't risk having to make a fast getaway."

"We can stop and get supplies on the way." BA adds as best as he can.

[notthatcrazy]

"So... waiting."

Saying he doesn't deal well with situations like this is an understatement.

[notjustaface]

Hannibal nods again, crossing one arm over his chest.

"You should be in there with him. In case he wakes up again."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah... I should."

With a nod to his teammates, he heads down the hall, feet heavy as he returns to Face's room. He's still sleeping.

[notjustaface]

Face is still again, clearly restrained despite the crisp white sheet drawn up from his bare feet to his battered chest with a slow and steady pulse of the monitor punctuating assisted breaths.

He's stable, at least - his eyelids fluttering dream like against bruised cheeks.