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

[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.

[notthatcrazy]

After a few moments of simply watching him rest, Murdock reaches up and removes the chain with his own wedding rings from around his neck. Pressing a kiss to the warm metal, he places them in Face's hand, wrapping his own around it.

He's ready to take them back if he wakes up agitated, but he's still hoping he won't have to.

[notjustaface]

Reflexively, his fingers curl around the warm metal. His own were lost, ripped off in the interrogation.

The hospital buzzes with activity, and eventually the slow flutter turns to confused, wide open blue eyes as he tries to speak.

"Wh... where..."

[notthatcrazy]

He'd expected as much. It's sad, but he's so glad to have him back that he can't bring himself to think about it at the moment.

"Hey, Temp."

He forces himself to talk around the lump in his throat, not wanting him to feel alone for one more second.

"I'm here. It's okay..."

Damn it... ya had me at that edit...

[notjustaface]

Everything feels slow, drugs he knows even if he's not entirely sure anything that's happening is real.

"No..." he whispers weakly, his voice dry and ragged, his panic building as much as it can under the sedation as he tries to move and finds he can't.

"No..."

[notthatcrazy]

He feels the tension rising and squeezes his hand just a little tighter, trying his best to convey this is real, you're safe.

"The doctors had to sedate you. It's gonna be okay..."

He can't quite keep the quiver out of his voice. If he's lost so far in the memories that they can't pull him back ..

"Just breathe..."

It's not clear wether he's saying that to Face or himself.

[notjustaface]

"Fuck you..." Face growls from behind clenched teeth, but he's so weak there's no bite to it. "Kill me."

His body tries to pull, but still he fails to move - fails to even manage his bleary eyes fully open against the seemingly blinding light of the dim room. "Stop. Talking."

[notthatcrazy]

He does, but only because he's at a loss for what else to say. Obviously the drugs aren't helping... god knows what he's got in his system besides the sedative. At least right now he can't hurt himself.

( Unless he tries to fight the restraints, his mind supplies unhelpfully.)

Still fighting off tears, he moves to the door and calls to the waiting room.

"Hannibal? Need you here."

He barely notices the few reproachful looks he gets for yelling before he returns to the bedside.

"I'm not goin' anywhere, so you might as well get used to it."

[notjustaface]

Face's muscles strain against the tight staps, discolored as he tries to fight them off as much as his weak and tired body will allow.

"Jesus..." Hannibal mutters under his breath as he pushes past a confused attendant into the small room. "Snap out of it, Peck," he orders in a loud, gruff tone; "we're getting you out of this mess but you better straighten up and deal with it!"

[notthatcrazy]

He steps back, shoulders sagging, as Hannibal takes control. It's a little awkward, needing to be there but not wanting to get in the way, but this may be just what Face needs right now.

Doesn't make it any easier to watch, though. He holds his breath, catching Hannibal's eye as he continues trying to talk him down.

[notjustaface]

"Lies!" Face chokes, his voice hoarse and barely audible even in the small room; "None of this is real!"

Taking a deep breath, Hannibal gives Murdock a long look, the kind of look that can only mean 'You're not gonna like what I'm about to do, but it's for his own good.' Then, without hesitation slaps Face hard enough to raise a pink welt on his cheek. "Feel real enough to you yet, Peck?" He growls low and loud, a tone reserved only for the most severe dressing downs.

[notthatcrazy]

Hannibal's tough love is hard to see at the best of times, but he can't deny that drastic measures are called for now. He flinches at the sound of the slap, and BA, watching from the doorway, rests a hand on his shoulder.

It's getting to be too much, though. He turns and pushes past the larger man, needing a place to compose himself. He'll be needed back soon (please don't let him be so far gone that he won't need me) but he doesn't want Face seeing him break down over this. As he leaves, Hannibal swears quietly and tells BA to go keep an eye on him.

He's not sure if there's something inherently calming about bathrooms or if it's just that they're the most relatively private spaces usually available, but this isn't the first time he's ended up in one during a stressful moment. By the time BA catches up to him, he's taken up refuge in the corner of a stall, loud not-quite-sobbing breaths echoing around them.

[notjustaface]

Face's immediate reaction isn't even close to responding positively - he tries to lash out against the restraints once more, but held back ends up only biting and straining as best he can. The slam of a door is enough to fracture the delusion, something even Hannibal's insistent slap hadn't been able to do. His eyes open slowly, but nothing is more than a fuzzy outline of somewhere definitely not the room he'd been held it.

"What?" He pants, exhausted from the struggle with imaginary enemies. "Am I dead?"

Keeping up with Murdock is less difficult than one would thing, but takes understanding that even he's running away he's still staying close to the action. The crying helps too.

"Hey man..." BA says softly, tapping on the door with his knuckles. "It's gonna be all right, you know? Dude's been through some shit back there. We don't even know what they did to him." Some of the injuries are obvious enough; fine knife cuts - probably a scalpel, bruises, burns, track marks... but nobody could really imagine just how deep they took him. "It's gonna be all right, but we gotta move soon... chances are those guys are gonna find us and be pretty pissed off about it."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah, I know." He sighs. "Just needed a minute to get myself together."

After a few more deep breaths, he emerges from his hiding spot. That calm, steadying hand is back on his shoulder as BA guides him back to the room. Underneath all the bickering and teasing they've always been there for each other, and he's grateful for the big guy's support.

It's fairly quiet as he opens the door slowly. He's not sure if that's a good sign or not.

[notjustaface]

He's not fighting any more, merely lying there with his eyes closed. Hannibal has taken then liberty of dropping one side bar to sit on the narrow cot beside him, one hand free of the restraints and gripping his tight.

"It's gonna be all right," Hannibal says calmly, squeezing his hand even tighter; "You're safe now. We're gonna get you out of here... there's a crash house a days drive out that nobody will find."

Face doesn't reply so much a groans low in his throat and licks his dry lips.

Raising his eyes to Murdock, Hannibal adds; "Murdock's here now. I'm going to get up and give you two some privacy, in about twenty minutes we're going to carry you out of here to somewhere they won't find us."

[notthatcrazy]

His own eyes are still a little watery, but he's mostly calmed down. He reaches down to pick up his rings from where they'd been dropped, nearly forgotten in all the chaos.

With a brief nod of thanks, he takes Hannibal's place as the others take their leave. There's a fragile sort of stillness in the room that feels like it shouldn't be broken, but he doesn't want to be silent either.

"Hey."

He reaches for Face's free hand, still not sure if he'll be wanted.

"I'm here. It's gonna be okay."

[notjustaface]

It's almost reflex to grip the offered hand as tight as he can - which is really barely curling his fingers to hang on. For some reason, as blurry as his mind is it still feels good. Feels right.

"I'm not dead." He says softly, barely opening his blue eyes to try and see the other man clearly. "I thought I was."

[notthatcrazy]

"No, you're not," he agrees, his voice still quiet and calm. "We got you out in time."

He rubs his thumb along his bruised knuckles, trying not to worry about how weak his grip is. He knows the physical damage will heal... everything else will take a lot more time and care to recover from.

[notjustaface]

What Hannibal neglected to mention is just how far back his memory is fractured, but it shows when he hears the waver in Murdock's voice.

"We'll get this sorted out back at base."

[notthatcrazy]

Shit. That's really not good.

"Hannibal's gonna get us somewhere safe..."

He's not going to ask what he remembers. He's pretty sure that wouldn't help, and even if that's not the case he's almost scared to find out the answer.

[notjustaface]

He nods as best he can, still not entirely aware of the extend of his injuries. "Mmm, can't be down too long - got something special waitin' on our flight home." He half-chuckles, the shooting pain in his ribs enough to crush that idea entirely.

"Might haveta take a rain check for a couple days though."

[notthatcrazy]

He shifts away from him just slightly, not wanting his distress to show on his face.

"Might be a good idea."

He manages to look at him again, with a not entirely convincing smile. If Face was thinking clearly, he'd see through it in a second.

"You gonna be okay to move soon? We don't have long."

[notjustaface]

He may be drugged out as hell and taken one too many blows to the head but he still knows when something's going not right.

"Yeah... yeah..." he answers dryly, looking toward the pitcher of water on the stand closest to the bed yet still out of his reach. "Boss said there's a van, are you gonna fly us out or is the general sending in reinforcements?" It's pretty classing, trying to figure out just how fucked their mission is because he got caught.

[notthatcrazy]

His body language isn't doing much to hide his discomfort, unfortunately.

"We're taking the van first. Hannibal's still working out the rest of the plan."

In other words, yeah, things got kind of fucked. He has no idea how to explain the rest of the situation.