If every twitch had hurt, trying to walk was pure agony. Murdock's breathing was more difficult as he tried to control the pain. Tears trickled down steadily and mingled with the sweat on his wet face. Making it to the ground from the raised floor of the chopper was so painful that one of the bitten off screams actually made it out of Murdock's mouth. He nearly collapsed, sobbing, leaning almost his full weight on Face.
Though skinny, Murdock was also six foot tall. Face was slowed considerably with the effort of keeping him steady. But Murdock couldn't move very fast anyways. Heaven smiled on them and they saw no one as they weaved through the choppers, around to the team room that was thankfully nearby. If it had been on the other side of the base, Face wasn't sure what they would've done.
As it was, they made it to the building without incident. Face¬¬ checked to make sure it was empty before he opened the door wide and stepped inside, pulling Murdock with him. He shut the door, and Murdock put his weight against the wall as Face grabbed the chair from the desk in the corner, wedging it under the knob.
"Take your clothes off," Face ordered, not looking at Murdock, who was sliding down the wall. Even as his legs were going out from under him, Murdock tried to unfasten his fatigues with the three working fingers of what looked like his good hand. He made no attempt to try to lift the other arm from his middle, seemingly as much to support the arm as his ribs.
Face grabbed a bucket and a washcloth on his way to the sink. While the bucket filled with warm water, he walked to Murdock's locker and grabbed another set of fatigues. Murdock had given up on his efforts to unbutton his shirt by the time Face knelt beside him with clean clothes and the water. Moving Murdock's hands aside, Face finished with the buttons and pushed the shirt off of Murdock's shoulders carefully.
The sight of the bruises made his eyes widen again. "Jesus..." For a moment, he just stared.
"Yeah. I bruise easy. Pale skin."
His lips moved - an attempt at a smile. Face felt as if he'd just been struck. Murdock was… he was trying to assure him! Finally, Face felt it – the first real flicker of emotion found its way through the shock and horror. Pain and concern and agony, in equal amounts. No longer operating on instinct, it was as if Face suddenly realized what he was seeing. There were no words. He searched and searched, but came up empty. Jaw slack, he shook his head, unable to find anything at all to say.
"Hey." Murdock moved his good hand, went to touch Face's cheek. He didn't make it. He dropped his hand, wincing in pain, and shook his head. "Didn't get you… Keep…"
"Murdock, don't talk."
"No," Murdock said firmly. "S'important." He took a deep breath, and winced at the pain it caused. "Keep your eyes… keep 'em open. Bastards… know…" He was nearly hyperventilating from the exhausting pain of trying to speak. But his dark eyed were agonized with more than physical pain. "So sorry."
Face suddenly felt sick. He shut his eyes, set his jaw, and turned his head away, sucking in a deep breath of air. "Oh God. Jesus, Murdock." He put up a hand to cover his face. His chest was so tight he couldn't breathe. "God, don't..." His hand began to shake, and he balled it into a fist. "I'm sorry. My God, I'm so sorry."
Murdock shivered violently, hugging himself with the bad arm again and trying to curl into a ball. He groaned with pain again, but shook his head. "Don't. Hey." His breathing was still labored, and his hand shook as he put it on Face's knee, briefly, then shifted it to his shoulder and squeezed. "There's a lot of guys ain't too fond of me, Face... Prob'ly looking for… for an excuse. Ya know?"
Face stared him straight in the eye, not buying it. He lowered his eyes away as a dark, dangerous look passed over them. The pieces were falling into place. Cruiser. Cruiser was the only one who knew - or thought he knew – anything that would make this happen. He was the only one who could've been responsible. As he reached for the washcloth and wrung it out, he set his jaw, tense. "I'm going to fucking kill him," he whispered under his breath, dead serious.
The words - and the look - made Murdock's shivering even worse. "Hell, no, Face. No. Please." Every shudder wracked his damaged body and it hurt less to clench his jaw than to let his teeth chatter. Still, he tried to take a deep breath, sit up straighter, and look as okay as he could manage. "Too dangerous for you."
Face growled audibly. "I'm not worried about me."
"I am."
Face's only worry was tied up in the state of the team with Murdock injured, Cruiser dead, and himself in jail. His eyes remained dark as he wiped the blood from Murdock's face, and wrung out the rag again before bringing it to his neck.
"M'worried 'bout you and I care 'bout you and just... no. Don't go lookin' for trouble. Please..."
Face glanced up and met his gaze briefly. Murdock was in anguish, but the words were more a plea now than they'd been even in the chopper, when he hadn't immediately recognized that Face was not another assailant.
"Face? You... Hurts, right? Seein' me like this?"
"Murdock…"
"Don't. M'already scared for you. If I think you're gonna do somethin' crazy..."
"Don't worry about me, Murdock. I can take care of myself."
"I couldn't…" Murdock swallowed painfully, slumping again, whimpering. "You think if you take him out... and the MPs get you… you think they won' come after me again? Blame me?"
Face looked away.
"Need someone to watch my back, Face. I'll watch yours. Please…"
Face rinsed the rag again, then put it in Murdock's hand as he turned his attention to Murdock's ribs. He pressed carefully, not wanting to cause any more pain than absolutely necessary. Murdock bit his spit lip regardless of the fresh blood, then winced and swore as Face pressed against the sixth rib on his right. It moved.
Face sighed deeply. "Jesus, Murdock..." He shook his head as he looked up, his expression pained and unsure. "I'm not a medic."
"Jus' bind it up. I'm not coughing or spittin' blood, so it hasn't scratched a lung."
"That's not –"
"All anyone can do for broken ribs is strap you up and tell you not to move much," Murdock breathed. "You know that. Won't be doin' much of that anyway."
Face frowned deeply. "Murdock, at least..." He searched for a solution he was more comfortable with. "At least let me get Hannibal; he's done medic training."
"No!"
Face winced, both at the idea and its expected response, and immediately tried to make it sound better. "He's gonna know about this anyways. You can't hide it from him." Especially when I kill Cruiser. He'll need an explanation for that...
"No," Murdock begged. "Please. At... at least let me get the piss and... Lemme get the taste outta my mouth? Let... Lemme... I need to..." For the first time, the harsh, cracked voice broke. Suddenly, Murdock was sobbing. "I'm gonna fall apart soon, Face... Don't… I can't let him see me like… Please!"
"Murdock, I –"
"No! Please!" Sobbing, shaking, Murdock was close to hyperventilating as the tears streamed down his face. His voice was high and small as he shook, the words tumbling out in no particular order, as if he wasn't really processing any of what he was saying. "I pissed myself and they... they... used... said I liked it so I could take it... and –"
"Murdock, stop!' Face reached up, one hand on either side of the pilot's face, and turned his head until they were eye to eye. Murdock sobbed, hard and harsh, moaning with the pain as he tried to pull away from Face, curl into a ball, hide. But Face held him steady, one hand on each cheek. "You're okay. You're safe. It's over." And I am going to kill every last fucking one of those - Face cut off the thought. Murdock didn't need to hear that. He didn't need to see it in Face's eyes, either.
Murdock got his good hand over his face, broken fingers sticking out obscenely and turned into his own shoulder and the wall as much as possible. The sobs shook him, each one ending on a whine of pain. Face turned his head back and leaned forward, pulling Murdock in closer and tipping both their heads down, chin to chest. He touched their foreheads together, his hands steady and tight. "It's okay. You're okay."
Murdock tried to hold his breath, struggled for control. He couldn't seem to stop the tears or the shaking. The sobs quieted a little though as he leaned forward into Face. But then, with a sudden gasp of pain, he jerked back. Face let him go. "Nnnh… no. Don't. We can't be… They'll see…"
Face sighed deeply. "There's no one here, Murdock. And we're not doing anything wrong. You're hurt and I'm helping you clean up. Helping you pull it together because right now, man? You need some help."
Face took the rag, wet it again, and washed it over Murdock's face. His lips were wobbling and the tears kept falling. He didn't even try to wipe them away. "But Face –"
"No," Face said firmly. "Anybody who's got a problem with that can take it up with me." Let them try. Please let them try it. Face kept the anger hidden well, but he didn't try to silence the threats that were screaming in his mind.
Murdock's sobs quieted as Face cleaned the blood from his face and his hands. As Face looked up again, just briefly, he saw Murdock watching him. "You're okay," he said quietly, reassuringly.
"Face?"
"Hmm?"
"Why ain't you...? How can you do it?"
"Do what?"
"Aren't you just… disgusted?"
"Absolutely." Face touched the rag to the corner of Murdock's mouth to soak up the blood that was coming from the split that had reopened. "But not with you."
"Huh? But -"
"Look, Murdock…" Face's expression was both pleading and pained as he glanced up at Murdock's eyes. He shook his head again. "I'd tell you this is my fault, but you'd just argue with me even though you know it's true. And I'd rather you save your breath 'cause I've gotta wrap those ribs."
Murdock drew in a shaky breath. Even half buried in swollen, angry looking flesh, his eyes shone with the tears that continued to leak from them, wetting his lashes every time he blinked and rolling down his cheeks. He nodded slowly in reply, and winced. "I don' know whether this arm is broken or out of joint... but you're gonna hafta to move it."
Face nodded. "It's dislocated. Your shoulder."
Murdock closed his eyes, licked his lips again, panting shallowly. "Top of my chest doesn't hurt so much... If I... If I sat between your legs, against you... y'know? I think you could hold me like that. Under the armpits?" He swallowed, licked his lips and opened his eyes again.
Face tipped his head down a bit to catch Murdock's eye. "Are you sure you don't wanna go to the dispensary? They might be able to do this a little less painfully than I can."
Murdock just looked at him. "Got any whiskey? I heard tell they used to cut limbs off without any more pain killer than that." The slow tears continued to ebb and roll, but his voice was steady.
Face gave a slight smile. "I don't have whiskey. But I do have morphine in my pack."
Murdock let out a slow breath. "Morphine sounds great."
"I'll bet it does."
Face pulled away and stood up, dropping the rag into the bucket of water.
"I trust you, Face," Murdock whispered. "Right now, I only trust you. Don' think I could… I don't want…"
"It's okay," Face answered. "I get it."
"Really?"
"Come on. Get up." Face crouched and put his arms under Murdock's. As he pulled, Murdock pushed his back to the wall, both feet on the floor, and braced himself. The gasp of pain was cut off as Murdock dug his teeth into his bottom lip, white against the red and black of new and dried blood.
Holding him steady, Face led him to the sink and turned the water on for him, letting him lean forward on it as he turned the water on. "Wash yourself up. I'll get your clothes. And that morphine."
Murdock propped his good elbow on the edge of the sink and bent forward with a low groan. Awkwardly, he managed to splash water on his face than ran down his neck. He licked water from his hand and bent further forward with a bitten off yelp, trying to get his mouth to the tap. He rinsed his mouth again and again before finally dragging his wet hand over his face and torso as best he could until he reached his waistband. He fumbled for a moment then cursed.
"I..." His voice shook again. "I can't get my pants down with this hand."
"I'll get it," Face said, returning with a syringe of morphine. "Gimme your arm. Will take a few minutes for this to work."
"Mmm hmm."
It took a couple of tries to find the vein. He might've gotten it on the first stick, but Murdock's arm was shaky and Face was not a medic. As Face dropped the needle in the trash, he suddenly realized how long he'd been here. It had definitely been longer than ten minutes. Hannibal would come looking for him soon.
He glanced Murdock over quickly. He was out of breath. He was also sweating so much from the pain and exertion that the wash hadn't really done much of anything. He spat again into the sink. "Christ..."
"Lean on the sink," Face ordered.
As Murdock complied, Face splashed a few handfuls of water over his chest and stomach and arms before he draped the clean shirt over his shoulders. Then he reached down to unbutton the front of Murdock's pants. If he felt awkward, he didn't show it. He just pushed them down, and splashed more water, letting it run all over the floor. At the moment, he couldn't care less.
A quick glance up at Murdock's face told him he was still feeling plenty of pain. "You okay?" Face asked. "You let me know before you pass out on me."
Murdock was breathing short and shallow between his teeth and tremors continued to travel through his whole body. But he shook his head. "Thanks. Not gonna... Not woozy or sick. Wish I could get rid of this taste... But then I wish I could scrub myself off in a hot shower for a couple of hours too an' that ain't gonna happen either."
"Do you have mouthwash in your locker?" Face gave a quick glance toward the locker, but hesitated. "You're not gonna fall if I let go, are you?"
Murdock shook his head, which seemed an answer to both questions. "Only toothpaste or gum."
"I think I've got some. I'll get it in a second."
"Do I still smell? It's… I can't tell."
"You don't." Face turned, guiding him back against the wall. "Lean."
The order was simple, and Face used one hand to guide him until his weight was against the wall. Then Face grabbed the clean pants, knelt, and tapped Murdock's foot, lifting it and placing it carefully into the leg of the fatigues. He did the same with the other foot, and drew them up as he stood. Quick fingers fastened them, and Face ducked his head again to see Murdock's eyes.
"How are you feeling? You okay? Feelin' it yet?"
Murdock nodded, eyes sliding closed. "Uh huh."
"Stay still; I'll be right back."
Face stepped back carefully, and crossed the few steps to the lockers. Out the wire meshed window, he saw BA approaching. He didn't look happy - not that he ever did. The bigger problem was that he would probably break the damn door down whereas Hannibal would've knocked when he found it wedged shut. Face cursed under his breath and quickly returned to Murdock, setting the bottle of mouthwash on the sink. Not enough time. He was going to have to come up with some excuse.
"Here," he said quietly. "I'll be right back, okay?"
"Mmm hmm. Pain's like... it's a long ways away. So're my toes. Huh. I'm... Oooookay..."
Face crossed to the door and pulled the chair out from under the handle. "Be quiet a minute, okay?"
"Mmm…"
As Face stepped out of the hootch, he ran smack into BA. "What's goin' on?" BA demanded angrily. "What's takin' you so long? Where's Murdock?"
"Murdock's not feeling well."
"What?" BA frowned deeply. "Where is he?"
"He's inside. Hey, can you…?" Face didn't pause long enough to give BA a chance to push his way into the hootch. Instead, he stepped out. "Can you go find Snap and tell him he's gonna fly so that he can start the pre-flight? I'll be right there. I've just gotta get a few things."
Confused, BA was still well able to follow direction. There was only a token argument before he turned and walked away. Face watched him go, then headed back into the hootch. Murdock's head was back against the wall, eyes closed, but he was still upright.
"Still with me, Murdock?"
"Anytime you wanna get me reasonably flat would be good."
Face smiled reassuringly as he grabbed Murdock's arm. "I'm gonna sit you down on the bed, okay?"
With his free hand, he was grabbing the ace bandage he'd already unwrapped from Cruiser's pack. Only a matter of time before Hannibal came looking for him. There would be no making him go away. He guided Murdock to the edge of the bed and sat down behind him, on his knees.
"Shoulder first," Face said. "The longer it goes the worse it'll get."
"Uh huh."
Face took a breath. He'd done this before, but he didn't like it. He placed one hand flat on Murdock's back, behind his shoulder blade, and the other palm flat against the front of his shoulder. He could feel exactly how it was disjointed. "Ready?"
"Need more support. Feels like I'm gonna go over when you wrench it." The morphine had relaxed him, but he was still jittery.
"You're not," Face assured him, pressing closer against his back. "I'm right behind you."
Murdock breathed deep and let it out with a shudder. "Okay."
"On three."
Three slow seconds later, Face pulled, pushed, and shredded ligaments as the joint popped back into place. Murdock nearly screamed.
"That's it," Face said. He grabbed the bandage, hurried now. He had very little time to play the part of the sympathetic nurse. He still needed to tie up some loose ends before he could report back.
"Thanks." Murdock was panting, still holding his ribs with his other arm as he flexed the hand.
Face wrapped the bandage loosely around Murdock's chest, winding it twice, then shifted, putting his legs on either side of him. "Take a breath and hold it." He'd barely given Murdock a chance to recover from the pain in his shoulder and he knew it. But as long as he didn't crack up, Face wanted this over and done with as fast as possible.
"Trust you." Murdock clenched his teeth and held his breath. His eyes were a little glassy from the morphine but he met Face's glance steadily.
It was harder to wrap ribs quickly than to put the shoulder back in place. Part of the problem was that Face had never actually done it. Though his own ribs had been broken in every which way, Face had never been on this side of the experience. Unsure of his medical knowledge - but he'd tried to tell Murdock that - he pulled the two sides of the wrap, wound it a few more times, and clipped it together, watching Murdock's eyes. It wouldn't be the end of the world if he passed out, but Face wanted to have time to prepare for it if he did.
"You okay?"
Murdock nodded. "I can breathe but it's tight enough." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Good job, Lieutenant."
Face gave a slight smile. "Like I said. I'm not a medic."
There wasn't a whole hell of a lot Face could do for the other injuries. Murdock's nose was broken - he couldn't set that. His fingers could be splinted, but not much else. If they were badly broken - no telling while they were still so swollen - there wasn't much he could do about it. By the time he was through, he could tell the morphine was in full effect. Carefully, he helped him to lay back on the bed.
"Go to sleep. You'll be safe in here." He paused. Dammit... he couldn't leave him like this. And yet he had to. "We're going on the ground. I'll tell Hannibal you're not feeling well, have Snap fly. And I'll take care of Cruiser before I leave. He won't give you any problems."
There was no indication, especially with the level of calm in his voice, just what he meant by that. In any case, Murdock didn't seem to even hear him. He moaned softly as his head hit the pillow and a blanket came up to cover him, warm against the tremors and chill of shock. "Thank you, Face." His voice was almost sing-song as his eyes drifted closed. "Safe with Face…"
"I'll tell Snap to keep an eye on you when he gets back. There's food in my locker. If you don't want to leave, you shouldn't have to. If you do... just be careful. We'll be back in a few days, maybe sooner."
"Going away?"
Face forced a smile as he touched a hand to Murdock's forehead. "I'll leave you the other vial of morphine. Take it if you need it." Jesus, he hated to leave right now. It felt wrong to leave. But if he didn't, they'd have bigger problems than explaining to Hannibal. They'd have to find an explanation for Westman, too.
Murdock seemed to force his eyes open. "Be careful. Right? Don't…" He swallowed and his eyes drifted shut again. "I'll be okay. Don't... do anything... bad. Careful? Promise?" He fought to reach a hand out, grabbing Face's wrist with thumb and forefinger. "Yeah?"
Face forced a smile, stood, and cast a long, lingering look at the pilot before backing away from the bunk. "Just rest, Murdock. You're okay."
He grabbed the discarded clothes, wrapped them and sealed them in a plastic bag from Cruiser's kit, then tossed them under his bunk to be dealt with later. The bag was sealed; he wasn't worried about the smell. Nobody would mess with them until he got back. Right now... he needed to find Cruiser.
"Lieutenant!" Hannibal's voice had that impatient tone to it. He didn't sound amused in the least. "Where the hell have you been? Where's Murdock?"
"He's not coming."
The look changed suddenly, from a glare to a bewildered stare. He was caught off guard. "What do you mean he's not coming?" he demanded.
"He's not feeling well. Snap can fly, can't he?"
Snap's eyes widened a little. "Well… uh…"
Hannibal gave a heavy, irritated sigh. "I'll go talk to him."
Face closed his eyes as Hannibal passed, working up the calm, unemotional control that he knew he needed right now. Then he turned. "Hannibal!"
The colonel stopped and looked back. Face stood still, fully facing him, arms at his sides and feet firmly planted. He took a breath. "You told me you trust my judgment," he repeated. "Less than a week ago, you said that. Did you mean it?"
Hannibal stared at him. Then, finally, he crossed back towards the chopper. "Alright," he said firmly. "Let's go."
"One thing first." Face's voice suddenly dropped to a cold, dangerous tone. "Where's Cruiser?"
"Cruiser is injured," Hannibal shot at him, eyes narrowed. "He's not going with us."
"I need to talk to him."
"Not right now you don't." The challenge in Hannibal's voice was clear.
"It'll only take a minute. It's important."
"Tell him when we get back. We're leaving."
Face stopped, still, and looked Hannibal straight in the eye. "Please don't do this."
Hannibal stared back, his gaze steady. "Do what, Lieutenant?"
Face took a breath. "You're gonna tell me to get in the chopper. I'm gonna tell you no. We're gonna fight about it in front of all these people and you're gonna have to dress me down and/or write me up and I'm still gonna tell you to go fuck yourself because I will talk to Cruiser before I get on that chopper."
Hannibal's gaze didn't waver. Face stared him down. But when he spoke again, his voice was quieter, pleading. "It'll take me five minutes. That's all I'm asking. Please."
Another long pause, and Hannibal's eyes narrowed in a slow, careful scrutiny of the young lieutenant. Finally, he drew in a breath. "The last time I saw him, he was heading for the PX. You may still catch him there. You have five minutes."
"Thank you."
"BA, go with him."
Face had a sneaking suspicion that the tagalong was supposed to keep him in line. Face didn't care. In fact, he could use it to his advantage. After all, he only had five minutes. He found Cruiser within two, standing near the doorway of the PX with a cigarette in his hand and a smile on his face, talking and laughing with someone he obviously knew well.
Face stepped up to the conversation and without waiting for a pause, or for either of them to acknowledge him, he spoke. "Hi," he greeted the unfamiliar Mike Force soldier. "Can I steal him away for a minute? Thanks." A quick gesture towards Cruiser turned into a hold on his throat and Face pushed him back, off balance, leaving BA and the unfamiliar sergeant to keep each other company as he dragged Cruiser around the side of the building. As soon as they'd rounded the corner, Face put Cruiser's back to the wall.
"What the –"
"Don't talk," Face growled. In a flash, Face had a pistol cocked and ready, against Cruiser's temple. "I'm going out on the ground. I'm coming back in five days, if I live that long. If you go anywhere near Murdock in that time, you'd better hope I don't live that long. Because if by chance you or any other unwelcome guest goes within five hundred feet of that team room where Murdock is recovering, and if by chance I hear about it?" Face pushed the gun against Cruiser's temple, hard enough to tip his head all the way to the side. "I will bring you right back here and blow your fucking brains all over this wall. Do you understand me?"
He didn't give Cruiser a chance to reply. No answering threat or dangerous challenge. Still holding him by the throat, he threw him hard enough to send him sprawling to the ground. Face didn't look back as he rounded the corner, gestured to BA, and headed back to the chopper.
