"Jesus! Face what happened to you?" Murdock was on his feet instantly.
"What happened?" BA echoed, rising to meet him. "Who did this to you!"
"It's nothing," Face muttered.
"Nothing!" BA cried. "It sure looks like something! Looks like someone beat you up, man."
Face stopped, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. "Yeah, you know what?" He turned and looked at BA, keeping his expression the perfect picture of calm. "Can you go run over to the dispensary and get me some bandages?"
BA frowned. "You should go to the dispensary. Have Cruiser look at your hands. You bleedin' everywhere!"
"Please?" Face tried again. "I just… need a couple bandages."
With a deep frown and no small amount of reluctance, BA turned to the door. "Say hello to Cruiser for me while you're over there," Face called as he exited the room.
As the door closed again, Face turned and grabbed the gallon bottle of water on the floor. "Face…" Murdock started hesitantly. "Why is Cruiser in the dispensary?"
"He's a medic," Face answered. "Where else would he be?"
Face took the bottle outside, grabbing Cruiser's medical bag along the way. If BA came back at all – and that would be doubtful once he saw Cruiser – it would still be much faster to use the supplies on-hand than wait for more.
Murdock followed, and stood in the doorway. "Face. Why is Cruiser in the dispensary?"
Face sat down on the last step and opened the bottle. Careful not to waste it, he rinsed his free hand, revealing the shards of glass still imbedded in his palm. He opened the bag on his other side and fumbled for a pair of tweezers. It didn't take him long to find them. But with his hand shaking from residual adrenaline and – increasingly – blood loss, they didn't do him much good.
Murdock sighed as he sat down beside him and took the tweezers. As he took Face's other hand, the lieutenant let out a cry of pain that made Murdock pull back. "Jesus, Face." He was more careful this time. His eyes widened as he looked at the damage. "What the hell did you do?" he cried, appalled. "You broke your fucking hand!"
"Shut up, Murdock."
Murdock stared at him for a long moment. "You need to go to the –"
Face pulled his hand back. "I said shut the fuck up!"
He reached for the tweezers, but Murdock held them out of his reach. Face glared daggers at him. "Give me the goddamn tweezers," he growled.
"Give me your hand," Murdock answered. The tone was nothing short of an order.
Face glared hard at him, but finally complied. For a moment, Murdock worked carefully at cleaning the cuts, and assessing the damage. At least one of the bones between his knuckles and wrist was definitely broken. And his knuckles were a mess.
Murdock set the tweezers aside as he cleared the glass away and reached for the water again. "Look, Face, maybe it's time we need to –"
"Don't," Face interrupted.
"Don't what?"
"We're not going to talk about this, Murdock."
He kept his eyes down, focusing on his hands as Murdock cleaned up the blood. After a moment, Murdock gave his hand back and reached for the sealed, sterile bandages. "I'm sorry," he finally said.
Face sighed. "Murdock, don't."
"Well, I am." He hesitated, focusing his attention on the package as he slowly opened it, stalling while Face finished washing away the last few shards of glass. "I'm sorry about what happened."
Face finally laughed briefly, cynically. "Murdock, whatever it is you think you did, you paid for it in blood. You have nothing to be sorry for. And even if you did, I'm not interested in your apologies. I told you, I don't want to talk about it."
Murdock growled audibly. "God damn it, Face, don't you dare shut me out!"
Face looked up, startled by the tone.
Murdock barely paused, glaring hard at him. "You're right, I did pay for it in blood. To say nothing of my reputation and every ounce of… of dignity that I had. And you're going to hear me out! You owe me at least that, damn you."
Face stared at him for a long moment, then reached for the bandage. Murdock held it away, still glaring at him. Face reached for the bag, stubbornly, but there were no more bandages in there. Finally, he set his jaw and stared at Murdock. "So talk," he snapped at him.
"You first." Murdock reached for his hand again.
Face gave it, but continued to glare. "What do you want me to say, Murdock?"
"What do I want you to say?" Murdock repeated incredulously. "You're serious?"
Face glared at him.
"I hardly know what the hell I'm thinking and you want me to tell you what to say?"
Fuck, his hand hurt. He lowered his eyes to his hand as Murdock started to wrap the bandage.
"Sorry Face. You're gon' have to tell me what you were thinking and not what I want to hear."
"Forget it," Face answered automatically. His tone left no room for reconsideration. He'd said he wasn't going to talk about this, and he meant it. If Murdock had something to say, he'd listen. But that was as far as this was going to go.
"If I could forget it, I wouldn't need to talk to you about it, now would I, Face?" His jaw was screwed shut as he spoke, struggling to maintain control. His grip on Faces hand tightened and Face cried out, pulling his hand away.
"What the fuck, Murdock!"
"Why, Face?" he demanded, letting him have his hand, and the bandages he reached for. "What were you thinking? And why the hell can't you tell me?"
"Fuck this," Face growled. "I'm not your fucking counselor. And I sure as hell don't need you to be mine."
Murdock didn't say a word as Face turned and walked away from the hootch, taking the bandage with him to finish wrapping his hand. He had no idea where he was going, but he had to get away from there.
Hannibal was hard to find. He was hiding under the guard tower - out of sight of those above and far enough away from the hootches that nobody would accidentally stumble on him. Murdock stood for a long moment, far enough away that he wouldn't be noticed yet. The colonel was sitting on the ground, head in his hands. It was not a pose Murdock was used to seeing him in. All of the confidence and energy that normally radiated from him was distinctly missing. He looked vulnerable, small, and defeated – three words Murdock had never imagined he would associate with Hannibal.
It had to be about him. About his mind, all the shit that had happened recently. Shit… what had happened? It was hard to tell how much of it was a dream and how much was reality. He'd dreamed the other night about crashing a helicopter into the Bong Son River…
His heart was starting to pound. Hands clenched, he closed his eyes tightly. When he opened them, he would be real. Things would be… damn, how should things be? Slowly, he opened his eyes. Nothing had changed. Hannibal was still holding his head in his hands, looking... beaten. Shit. He had to get it together, hold on, stick with his unit.
He could feel laugher building. Part of him wanted to let it out and ride it away to wherever it took him. Part of him was horrified at the fact that he could even think of laughing at a time like this. This wasn't fun, or right. Hell, neither was he.
Face. He'd just finished talking to him. Something wasn't right there. What had happened to Face? What had happened to Hannibal? Murdock was so confused, he wasn't even sure of his own surroundings, much less what they meant. Feeling exposed and in desperate need of answers, he moved in and sat down next to Hannibal.
There was no response. Murdock licked his lips to bring moisture back to his mouth, and willed his heartbeat to slow down. "Hannibal?" He hated how hesitant his voice sounded.
Hannibal sighed deeply. It took him a few long moments to come up with an answer. Everything about him screamed that he wanted to be left alone. "What can I do for you, Captain?"
Murdock keep his eyes focused on the ground at his feet, not willing to look at the man beside him for fear that he might not be able handle what he saw in Hannibal's eyes. He swallowed hard, trying to grab the pieces and fit them together in some way that made sense. "I just wanted…" He stopped and shook his head, trying to clear it. He was so close to gone…
"What happened, Colonel?"
Hannibal sighed again and lowered his hands, sitting back a little. He hesitated a long moment before he answered. "I should be asking you that," he replied quietly, unthreatening.
"Yeah, probably."
Murdock refused to look up. If Hannibal was going to ask, he was going to have to make it more direct than that. He wanted to wait, wanted to give him a chance to. He wanted to just keep his mouth shut and wait but he couldn't. He was too close…
"What did Face do to Cruiser?"
Hannibal sighed, and hesitated for a long moment before replying. "They had an altercation in the club. I don't know what it was about."
Murdock licked his lips. He had a feeling he knew what it was about.
"They're sending Cruiser to Da Nang. And if I had to guess, they'll be sending him to Japan from there. Or possibly home. I don't know."
Murdock wrapped his arms around his knees, pulling them in tight to his chest as if to protect himself from some unknown attack. "Transported to Japan," he repeated softly. He felt sick. "Shit, that's… bad."
Hannibal was quiet for a long moment. Then, finally, he took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something, Murdock?"
"Shoot, Colonel," Murdock answered softly, reluctantly.
"Why did he go after Cruiser, Murdock?" Hannibal glanced at him, and was quiet for a long time. "Please tell me that this didn't all start in my own goddamn team."
It was a genuine, heartfelt plea, and Murdock winced as he heard it. "Shock" probably did not begin to describe what Hannibal had felt, to discover that Face had turned on a member of his own team. Murdock could hardly believe it, and he knew the reasons why.
HM swallowed what was left of his tattered pride and glanced at Hannibal, facing his piercing blue eyes like a man facing a firing squad. "I'm sorry," he whispered. It was easier to imagine someone else was saying it...
Hannibal watched him for a long moment, then turned his head away with a deep sigh and a mutter under his breath that sounded something like "Shit." He put a hand through his hair again, and clenched his fist, keeping it there. "This is not how it was supposed to end."
"End?"
Hannibal sighed deeply, and dropped his hand again, shaking his head. "Look, I don't know what you did, or didn't do, and whose fault anything was. When it comes right down to it, it really doesn't matter. But the integrity of this team is..."
He trailed off, shaking his head. Murdock was struggling to breathe. He had sabotaged the integrity of the team. He just couldn't leave it the fuck alone. He might be more than half crazy, but he was still a soldier. Or maybe not. Maybe none of this was real. Maybe he was just a bird sitting on a wire. Either way, it didn't matter much anymore, did it?
After a long hesitation, Hannibal pulled himself up to his feet. Murdock jumped up so fast beside him, he nearly lost his footing. "Of course, Colonel. I understand." It was his best Army voice – flat, disinterested, and confident. Everything he wasn't. "Thank you for talking to me."
Hannibal gave a small smile. "Anytime, Murdock."
Taking a deep breath, he turned away. As he walked further and further from Hannibal, he felt like he was getting smaller… further away… watching himself as he faded off towards the horizon. It was the end. He'd brought about the end of the team.
