This was inspired by a number of songs but Sweet Misery by Michelle Branch fit it the best. This story was just to satisfy my angst urges, and my babble urges. I hope it reads alright.

(This one going to be a one-off babble, but upon reaching the end I decided I couldn't just leave it, so there will be more. And all chapter names will be the titles of songs.)

The call came at exactly 16:23. Face knew because he had just checked his watch after bidding Hannibal and BA a goodbye, and was congratulating himself for getting extra time to prepare for the date he was picking up at seven. Naturally he had stopped at the door when the phone had gone, looking back at the other men, who were also sharing glances. They had given their number to less people than he could count on one hand, and it was only to be used in emergencies.

Hannibal looked to BA and Face with a cautious frown as he picked up the receiver, answering in a thick and bubbly Irish accent. Almost immediately the frown deepened, and the other two looked to each other with concern.

"Hey…hey, calm down, alright?" Hannibal was speaking in a placating voice, "Yeah, he's here…what?…Wh-…you're-…you're-" Whoever was on the other end of the line kept cutting him off and it was obvious the Colonel was getting agitated , "Look, I'll send him right over, okay? Just try to keep calm. Yes…y-…I-…okay-…" He let out a harsh sigh as he drew the phone away from his ear and frowned at it, the dial tone audible.

"Who was it, Hannibal?" Face asked, looking expectant and concerned.

"It was Murdock." Hannibal answered seriously in a way that didn't look right compared to his usual chipper demeanour, "You'd better get over there, Face." He added in a no-nonsense tone, looking at the conman, who held up his hands shaking his head.

"Oh no, not this time. I've got a date tonight, Hannibal, I told you. Why cant you or BA do it?" He argued.

"Because he asked for you." The Colonel told him, pulling out a cigar from his pocket and setting about lighting it with more force than was necessary.

"Aww, come on, that's no fair." Face whined, "Cut me a break just this once?" He pleaded. The woman he was meeting was the sister of an influential art critic, and the date could open big doors for him if it went well.

"No, Lieutenant!" BA frowned at the snap in Hannibal's voice, and Face immediately looked guarded. The Colonel didn't often snap at them, something must have been wrong. He finally got the cigar lit and took a long inhale, relaxing a little with the exhaled before finally turning his eyes back on Face, "He sounds like he's in a bad way over there." He said darkly, "And he's asked for you, so you're going to get your ass over there."

"I'm not breaking him out?" Face asked after he nodded, knowing not to argue any more. And besides, now he was worried about Murdock.

Hannibal shook his head, "Just go make sure he's okay." He told him, and Face nodded again.

"Right Colonel." He almost had to catch himself from saluting before he turned to leave.

By the time he arrive at the VA a couple hours later Face had already rescheduled his date for the next day, changed his clothes and formulated a new identity. He anticipated little problem getting to Murdock, especially since he didn't have to think of an excuse to get him out. He could be a doctor sent from the military to make sure their star pilot was still as insane as they thought, or maybe a cross-country doctor with an experimental treatment that was proving to work miracles in other patients. More ideas ran their way around his head as he walked purposefully into the hospital and to the elevator, pushing his fake glasses up his nose as he pressed the button for the psychiatric ward.

Murdock's cries were painfully audible the second the elevator doors slid open, and Face almost hesitated too long to step out before they shut again. He had never heard Murdock make noises like that before; he sounded distraught and panicked.

From the grim and annoyed expressions on the nurses faces, he knew that his second plan would be the one to go with. He was sure they would jump for any miracle cure that could make him be quiet.

It was all too easy to corner one of the prettier nurses and quickly overwhelm her with a series of long (and nonsense) explanations about who he was and why he was there.

"Who is the poor fellow I can hear now?" He asked her, trying to keep the concern out of his voice.

"Oh, that's Murdock." She answered quickly, a small frown furrowing her brow.

"And what's wrong him, if you'd be so kind?" He insisted, giving her an encouraging look.

"A psychotic break." She said with an unhappy expression, but Face was glad to see that she looked worried and a little sad behind the irritation, "He started a couple hours ago, we've had to sedate him once, but as soon as he came around he just started again."

"And he's consistently this…ah, vocal?" Murdock was babbling and shouting still, and the nurse nodded.

"Mostly. He's goes quiet every now and then, but then we have to go in and make sure he's not harming himself." She wrung her hands unhappily.

"He…he's done that?" Face let his façade slip for a second, but fortunately the nurse didn't notice.

"We've had to restrain him." She explained, and Face was overcome with concern. He had to get in there.

He easily persuaded her that Murdock would be perfect for his experimental treatment, and got her to lead the way.

"You understand, of course, that I require complete privacy." he told her as she unlocked the door, "This is still an unrecognised form of treatment, perfectly legal, of course, but I would hate to have to have my bosses sue this hospital if information on the procedure was leaked." His formal and serious tone had her nodding with wide eyes.

"Of course, doctor. If you can make him be quiet we'll be in your debt." She added in a whisper, and he nodded before opening the door and going in.

Murdock's state took his breath away, and he felt the blood drain from his face. He waited for the door to shut and lock behind him before he took a cautious step forward.

"Murdock?"

The first thing he noticed was that the pilot was strapped tightly into a straight jacket, arms folded around his stomach and secured at the back. He was leaning back against a wall, hunched over at the waist, his wild hair a mess of tangles and obscuring his face. His loud ramblings had died to obscure mumbling, shoulders tensed.

"Murdock?" Face went forward again, setting down the empty briefcase he had been carrying and taking off his glasses, "It's me, Murdock. It's Face." The last was added in a whisper, just in case anyone was eavesdropping.

"Face…Face, called Face, called Face before…before…" The pilot's voice was audible, but he sounded out of it, "They took my arms, Colonel…took my arms, right off like tinsel at Christmas…cant…cant fly no more, cant fly, got no arms." He shook his head vehemently, but still wasn't looking at Face, and he fought against the jacket for a few moments before calming again.

"Hey…Murdock, come on, look at me, I'm right here, see?" Face went forward to within three feet of the pilot, "And you've still got your arms." His heart was thumping hard in his chest. He had never seen Murdock so distressed. He'd seen him once or twice when he had accidentally swallowed the medication he was given, seen the zombie he turned into when he was on the meds, then the near-panicky exuberance once they wore off. But he had never seen him like this. He had always been stuck on the fence about whether Murdock was actually faking crazy or not, but this…he wouldn't fake this, he couldn't, not this. This was real, this was scary.

"Faceman…Faceman's here?" Murdock mumbled after a long silence, and a small amount of relief washed over the blond as he nodded.

"Yeah Murdock, I'm right here, okay?" He said, watching Murdock straighten up a little.

"Hannibal…Hannibal sent you over the mountains…with elephants." The pilot shook his head and pressed back into the wall, and Face finally got a look behind the wild mess of hair. Murdock's face was covered in fiery red scratches, some with small flecks of dried blood around the edges, and others a deep red where the blood had gathered under the skin. The sight took his breath away again as Murdock continued to talk, haunted brown eyes staring off across the room, "Over the mountains with elephants, but elephants cant ski…don't like the snow…too cold and wet…too cold…cold like Faceman…cold like ice…" He sank down to the floor as Face watched helplessly, the pilot's long legs pulling close to his chest. Finally he looked up at the conman, but his expression was deranged as he let out a short barking laugh.

"Nobody thought he'd do it but Hannibal sent elephants over the mountains and won the war, but nobody thought he'd do it…nobody did…impossible…elephants over the Alps…c-cant be done…wouldn't do it…couldn't do it…Hannibal didn't, he didn't really. It's all made up…just one big lie…big fat lie…they're all liars. Liars! Hannibal wouldn't do it! It's too cold! It's too cold!" He was getting worked up and struggled violently against the jacket, bare feet kicking against the floor, "It's too cold! They're all liars!" He shouted, frustrated tears flying from his face as he tried to writhe out of the jacket, "They're liars! Please! They're lying…don't…don't let them-!"

Face watched helplessly as Murdock's voice raised and dropped from sobs to cries, the pilot eventually trailing off as he hung his head, shoulders shaking in more sobs as small whimpers escaped him. Face fell to knees next to his friend.

"Murdock…come on, you've got to snap out of this…" He pleaded quietly, putting a hand lightly on Murdock's shoulder and watching him flinch away.

"It's not fair…it's not fair." Murdock's voice was barely audible, watery.

"What's not fair?" Face asked quietly, gently rubbing the pilot's shoulders when he finally relaxed under the touch.

"Not fair…too cold, Hannibal…he's too cold…" He shook his head hard, as though trying to clear it, and Face sighed softly in disappointment. Murdock still didn't know he was there, "Too cold…not hot…he likes it hot, Hannibal…hot like fire… h-hot like Arizona… I cant be Arizona…cant be…not hot enough…we'd freeze…freeze to death…freeze like ice…I don't want to be ice… I don't want to…don't…don't make me! Please!" Face was trying hard to follow what he was saying, but he wasn't making much sense.

"Murdock…I'm not Hannibal." He put a hand lightly on Murdock's cheek, trying to be gentle and mindful of the scratches, just wanting the pilot to look at him. He succeeded in turning his head, but his eyes didn't look focussed, "It's me. Faceman. Remember, you called Hannibal and asked for me. And now I'm here." He looked into the pilot's eyes, and although it took a few moments a spark of recognition finally passed though the brown depths.

"Face…?" His brows furrowed as he tried to focus, and Face forced a charming smile.

"You got it, buddy. I'm here." He told him, but after a few moment's Murdock's face fell again, looking dejected as he shook his head.

"No you're not…you're not here…not really. Never really…too cold for you, Faceman…not enough heat…" Face sighed quietly, and a worry started to nag at the back of his mind. What if he couldn't help? How long would Murdock be like this?

He didn't notice Murdock leaning forwards until the pilot had his head down against his shoulder, "Sorry I'm so cold…don't mean to be." The pilot muttered, "So hard to stay warm…cold here…cold and white and empty…wish I could be hot…hot like Arizona." His voice had dropped to barely audible again, and Face frowned faintly in worry, slipping an arm around Murdock's shoulders. His back was so tense under the jacket, and Face wasn't surprised considering the odd position the pilot was in. He was leaning over against Face, but didn't have his arms to help hold him up. Gently Face moved them so his back was against the wall with Murdock leaning against him, face still hidden against his shoulder. The pilot went without argument, moving like a mannequin.

"Wish you were really here, Face…" Murdock mumbled, tensing up and shaking a little, "Wouldn't hurt so bad…" The words nearly broke the blond's heart, and he wrapped his other arm around Murdock's shoulder.

"I am here, Murdock, I promise I am." He assured, but was starting to realise it was unlikely Murdock would believe him.

"That's nice of you to say…I want to believe it…maybe just for a little while." Murdock's voice was still watery but sounded like he was surrendering.

"Believe it." Face said quietly. He was still a little on edge. He didn't know if Murdock relaxing meant that he was recovering from the psychosis, or if he was going to start again soon.

"You know I hate you sometimes…" Murdock mumbled after a moment, sniffing quietly and Face could feel him frown a little against his shoulder. He didn't ask anything, waiting for the pilot to continue, "Not…not hate hate…but…I…I…" He shook his head, wiping his eyes against the white coat, "I...I want to go to Arizona, Face…please let's go there…I think…I think it would be hot enough there…and we wouldn't have to be ice…wouldn't have to freeze."

It was dawning on Face now what Murdock was getting at, why he wanted Face there, but Face didn't know if it was just the crazy talking or if that was how he really felt. And he didn't know if he'd have the heart to ask him once he was better.

"You're like…like…sugar-coated razorblades…" Murdock mumbled, "Taste so good…hurt so bad…always…always hurts so bad…" Murdock's voice was dying out as he leaned more against Face, and he hated the feel of the pilot's arms bound tight around his stomach.

"Sweet…sweet misery. That's what you are, you know?" The pilot breathed, "Sweet misery…hurts so bad…"

"I'm sorry." Face told him quietly, sadness in his voice. He had never realised he was causing Murdock so much pain. But the pilot didn't seem to hear him, and his voice got weaker as he slowly slid into unconsciousness.

"Took my arms, Face…took my arms right off…cant…cant fly no more…not without my arms…cant fly…cant fly to Arizona, Face…we're gonna freeze…"

"It's okay…we can take the train."