Summary: Murdock finds
himself cold and alone in a room he doesn’t want to be in.
Disclaimer: I don’t own them
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He was cold.
He was alone.
He shivered.
Fearfully, he looked around at the darkness
that surrounded him, threatening to swallow him whole. He hated being alone. He couldn’t hear anything aside from the
rapid beat of his own heart, which sounded thunderous in his own ears. And his breathing… shallow, fast… too fast,
it was drowning everything.
Where was he?
How long had be been here?
Where were his friends?
He wanted to move, but couldn’t. He wanted to call for help, but
couldn’t. He wanted to be anywhere
else, but wasn’t.
Something hurt. There was pain somewhere in his body, but he couldn’t tell where.
He couldn’t remember how he had got
here. What had happened? Where was his team? Hannibal?
BA? Face? He tried to call them. His choked whisper echoed back at him like
taunting devils dancing on the edge of his consciousness.
The echo died. The silence returned, even emptier now then before. Now he was certain he was alone. Alone with his own mind… Hurt… Frightened… Vulnerable… He hated being alone, paralysed by his
demons, the same ones who had haunted his dreams and sometimes even sometimes
his waking moments.
The ‘Team would come for him he
reasoned. They always did. They were his team. They were the A-Team. The ‘Team always stuck together no matter
what. They would come for him. Only reason they wouldn’t is if… if… they
were dead… NO!
No.
He curled up tighter. He couldn’t think like that. They were alive… somewhere. They were coming for him. They would find him, they had to.
They had to.
And he had to help them. Had to tell them where he was. Had to find out where he was. Had to find out all he could. Had to do something.
Had to do something.
He continued to lie there, the thought
ticking over in his mind. Seconds
slowly crept past. How many he didn’t
know. Just a few. Then a few more. Surely it wouldn’t matter?
*Get up, Murdock.*
The thought was building slowly in his mind,
getting more defined, drifting to his front consciousness like a feather in the
wind.
*Get up, Murdock.*
*No*.
The answer came from nowhere, startling him. It was as if the thought was from an
independent part of his mind.
*Get up, Murdock.*
The command was clearer now, closer, more
definite. It was as if he could reach
out and grasp it.
*No!*
*Get up, Murdock.*
It was right in front of him now. He could almost touch it. He wanted to reach out, wanted to grab it,
but there was something stopping him.
“I’m afraid.”
He spoke the words without meaning to, the
sound shattering all his uncertainties. Suddenly everything around him seemed
more real. Suddenly he knew who he
was. He knew what he had to do.
*Get up, Murdock.*
The voice in his mind was his own voice
now. It was his own command.
He slowly opened his eyes, not remembering
when he had shut them. The darkness didn’t
seem so dark now. His heartbeat wasn’t
so loud. He could do this. He would do
this!
Get up, Murdock.
Slowly, carefully, timidly, the uncurled
himself. First he sat up, and then he
pulled himself to his feet. His legs
shook beneath his weight, but he refused to give in and sit back down. Something was driving him forward. He stayed up.
He took the time to look around him properly
for the first time. He was in a room; a
room with no windows; with no furnishings.
A room he’d been in before. He
remembered. This was also a room he had
escaped from before.
There was a door. He saw the door. He
remembered the door. He slowly moved
towards it. Hesitating as he reached
it, he stopped. What would he find on
the other side? What would it be like? Where would it lead?
For a moment he was paralysed. He stood still, simply staring at the door
and the handle. Could he do this? Could he actually do this?
He glanced back at the room behind him, the
dark shadows he had moved from.
*Open the door, Murdock.*
It was that voice again.
He faced the door once more, slowly lifting
a hand to the handle. He hesitated
mid-way.
*Open the door, Murdock.*
He plunged forward, gripping at the smooth
metal. It was cold to his touch,
solid. He wanted to let go, but knew he
couldn’t, not until he had done what he had to. Something was holding him there.
*Open the door, Murdock.*
He turned the handle…
The light was bright, blinding him as he
blinked to allow his eyes to adjust.
The figures above him were hazy, moving like distant trees in the
wind. The sounds were too jumbled for
him to make out clearly, as if he were under water. He recognised a few out the voices, but they sounded so far off.
“The fool’s awake, Hannibal. He’s come back to us.”
Three faces… Three memories… Three
friends.
“Welcome back, Captain.”
They had found him. He was safe. The room was gone. He was
warm, in bed, safe.
Smiling weakly, he nodded before closing his
eyes, allowing dreamland to take his body, secure in the knowledge that he had
defeated his demons once and for all.
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