After Jamestown

Warnings: as per usual, though we tried to be nice this time, Consider yourself warned...read at your own risk...and hopefully enjoyment!

Disclaimer: Unfortunately we didn't make up the characters, only borrowing them

Chapter 1

Face was seeing stars as he kissed the farmer's daughter but he wasn't sure if it was so much a result of the kiss or from his still aching head. But moments later, as he ran to catch up with the others as they started driving away without him, those stars exploded into full blown fireworks.

Face tried to hide his discomfort and forced a smile on his face while trying to keep enough focus and balance to not fall out of the back of the Jeep. He was relieved when nobody so much as gave him a second look; Hannibal was focused on getting his prized boots back and the rest of the team was lost in their own thoughts and exhaustion.

After Hannibal had taken his property BA drove them to the Van and quickly changed the blown out tires. Face found it increasingly difficult to hide his pain, the bumpy ride and the heat of the sun out here in the open didn't do anything to his head and stomach, but he held his own. He even threw a few comments into the usual carefree banter of the team before settling down for what was sure to be a long ride. Gradually the pain settled back down to a dull throb, and using his blue down vest as a pillow he drifted off to sleep.

He dreamt of the farmer's daughter and in his dream the kiss they shared was much longer than it had been in reality but all too soon images of the chase they had to endure as prey just hours before the kiss followed by images of former chases and fights, images of the war and images of the orphanage joined in. After what was only a few minutes of peaceful sleep Face found himself in the middle of a full blown nightmare and bolted awake, kicking Hannibal's seat hard in the process.

"Hey, kid…watch it!"

Face was breathing hard and still not completely aware of his surroundings. "S…sorry."

"Have a bad dream, Facey?" Murdock questioned the obvious.

'Dream? It was all a dream,' he thought, answering Murdock with a slight nod. But then the pounding in his skull reminded him that some had been real.

"Face, you okay?" Murdock followed up.

"Um…yeah…fine," Face lied.

They continued on in silence, but to his dismay Face found himself growing increasingly uncomfortable. He had developed an aching pain in his stomach that just wouldn't seem to go away. No matter which way he shifted in his seat, he couldn't get comfortable.

Hannibal could see Face squirming through the reflection in the rear view mirror. "What's the matter, Face, you got ants in your pants or something?" he asked pulling a cigar out of his pocket.

Face immediately stiffened up at the question. All he wanted was to fall asleep again so he could escape the pain for awhile. "I just can't find a comfortable position." he replied. He heard B.A. snort and he immediately regretting his statement. "Sorry BA, I didn't mean anything by it."

"My ride not good enough for you man? You never complain about comfort when you sit in one of them flashy sport cars to attract women."

Just the thought of squeezing himself in one of those cars right now made his stomach churn and his head swim and he turned to the door while squeezing his eyes shut and clenching his fists in an attempt to control the pain and nausea.

BA mistook Face's lack of reaction and snorted again before focusing his concentration back on the road.

The renewed snort brought Amy on the plan. "Ah Face, are you sulking? You can always have my back bench if you think that's more comfortable than your seat."

Face was annoyed by Amy's comment and would have retorted with a witty comment but the bile had risen in his throat and he feared opening his mouth would open the floodgates. So he said nothing and pretended not to hear.

Amy laughed. "Yup…he's sulking."

Hannibal decided to get in on the act. "Face is probably just upset that we pulled him away from the girl before he had a chance to sow his oats with the farmer's daughter."

"I tried to sew some oats once, but must have been using the wrong thread."

"Shut-up fool," B.A. barked at Murdock, "or I'll sew your lips shut."

Face felt hot tears burn underneath his closed eyelids. Adding to his physical pain was hearing how little his friends thought of him.

The group lapsed into silence once more as they travelled down the nondescript dirt road. Face put his head back on the headrest and prayed for some relief. Just sitting in the van was agony…and when B.A. hit a bump in the road it was twice as bad. His head still ached with a vengeance, but it was the growing fire in his belly that was worrying him most.

They had not been travelling for long when it started to get dark.

"BA, find us a place to eat."

"Okay, what do you want?"

"I feel for burgers, what about the rest of you?"

"Burgers sounds fine." Was BA's answer.

"Captain Belly Busters please."

"We won't find any out here fool."

"But…"

Hannibal interrupted the argument before it turned into a fight. "Amy, Face?"

"Ah, burgers don't fit into my diet, but I feel for them anyway."

"Face?"

"Not hungry."

Face was still looking at the door and it annoyed Hannibal. They had not eaten much during the day but he was too exhausted and bored by Face's behavior to even try to argue. "Okay, but we're not going to stop again when you feel hungry."

Face didn't react on that at all which did nothing to Hannibal's mood.

After about another 30 minutes BA pulled into a parking lot.

"Okay, guys and Amy, time for food."

Everybody got out and stretched only Face didn't move.

"Come on Muchacho, let's see if they have a Murdock special burger."

"Don't feel so good."

"Leave our pouting Lieutenant alone Murdock."

"Face is just dramatizing because we teased him." Amy leaned back into the car over Murdock's seat. "Maybe we need to take the baby to a doctor."

"Actually he does look a little green."

"Any one looks green when he hears you talking about Murdock special burgers fool."

"Then he's not good as a meal ticket anyway. Let's just go." Hannibal closed the door and BA locked up the car.

The memory of how they had talked about him earlier on hit him hard. Not that he had expected anything different but it still hurt to hear and feel how little they cared about him. They usually bothered him about opening up when he hurt and now that he did hurt but wasn't good to scam things they just ignored him.

Hannibal had expected Face to follow them inside, after all he had to be hungry too, so they had taken their time. When they returned to the car about an hour later they found Face curled up on the back bench. He was facing away from them so they assumed he was sleeping.

"Looks like Face decided my seat was more comfortable than his after all," Amy quipped as they started down the road again. "Fine by me…I'll trade any day."

Face was covered in sweat; his stomach felt as if someone was sticking a hot poker at it…the pain was sharp and intense. He was also struggling to catch his breath. 'This isn't just going to go away,' he thought. 'I have to say something.'

Face didn't even try to hold back the moan as he tried to roll over. The slightest movement made his vision blur and sent waves of agony rolling over him.

"Sounds like sleeping beauty is waking up," Hannibal said sarcastically. He was still irritated at Face's earlier behavior and that he hadn't eventually joined them for dinner.

"I think there's...something...wrong with me," Face said through bated breath.

"If that ain't an understatement, I don't know what is," B.A. grumbled from the driver's seat shaking his head.

Murdock, however, had an uneasy feeling ever since they left Face in the van the hour prior. "Face, talk to me," he said moving towards his friend.

But Face's only reply was another moan, this one louder and longer.

Hannibal's radar went off. "B.A., pull over."

'Oh no, I made him mad.' His state coupled with the earlier statements of the team brought the old insecurities back to the surface with full speed. 'Try to save whatever you can, cooperate, do what he says.'

Everything went in slow motion for Face. He heard Hannibal telling BA to pull over before he saw Murdock right in front of him. Just when he wanted to reassure Murdock that he was fine the slow motion ended and changed to full gear. BA had pulled the car to the side of the road where the ground was uneven. As a result the inhabitants were rocked around. Face almost fell from the bench before Murdock caught him and pushed him back. He curled up again and cried out in pain. Every thought of trying to be brave went out of the window, together with his ability to think straight.

Hannibal pushed Murdock, who was hovering over Face, to the side. "Face, what's wrong?"

Face was still lost in white agony and didn't even notice Hannibal had taken Murdock's place, let alone hear him.

"Face, where does it hurt kid?"

The pain was slowly ebbing away and this time Face did hear something, but he couldn't make any sense of it. He tried to turn his head towards the voice and open his eyes but all he saw was something blurry. The blurry figure slowly changed into Hannibal and Face suddenly remembered the words 'he's not good as a meal ticket' and 'pull over BA'.

'Oh no, he's going to throw me out. Cooperate, do what he wants.'

"Face, does your stomach hurt?" Hannibal guessed by the position Face was in since he didn't get any answer.

Face wanted to tell him he was fine but instead another moan escaped.

"Can you turn to your back for me? I want to have a look."

By now it hurt like hell to move but Face knew he had to do whatever he was told if he wanted to have a chance to stay on the Team. With a little help from Hannibal and with gritted teeth he managed to turn enough to be on his back.

Hannibal lifted Face's shirt and gasped at the sight. An ugly looking bruise, the shape of an oval, covered the right side of Face's belly, starting at the lowest part of the rib cage and stretching all the way down to his waistband. Hannibal lightly touched Face's belly around the bruise and didn't like the tenderness at all. Face moaned and squirmed but stayed on his back. As Hannibal touched a spot closer to the bruise however, Face batted his hands away and curled up again, whimpering and protecting his belly with his arms.

"BA, get us to the next clinic, ASAP."

BA didn't waste any time and was back on the road in seconds. "Colonel, what is it?"

Hannibal was chewing on a cigar by now. "Belly is tender. Maybe internal bleeding."

"But how? He was fine. You think something happened while we were eating?" Amy was puzzled.

"No. The butt of the gun he was hit with earlier today is what happened."

"But…"

"Sometimes it's just a small wound that grows with time. We'll see."

Murdock settled in beside Hannibal and stroked Face's hair while they rode on. Face was conscious but beyond recognizing anything around him.

"Hannibal, there's a small clinic at the end of the street."

"Okay, Murdock help me get Face inside, he's my son, you're his cousin. BA, take Amy to a bus or train station and then wait close by." BA knew the four of them together were too easy to recognize so he didn't argue.

Amy on the other side tried. "But…"

"We might not be lucky and run into trouble, you don't need to be part of that. We'll keep you informed." With that he took Face under the arms, Murdock picked up his legs and they started moving.

The trio made it only a few feet before Face gasped out, "Gonna…be…sick."

Hannibal and Murdock lowered Face to the ground and supported him as he retched.

"Dear God," Hannibal whispered shooting Murdock a worried glance.

Murdock eyes reflected the same fear as he realized what Hannibal had seen. Blood. Face was vomiting blood.

Upon entering the small clinic the nurse behind the front desk took one look at the barely conscious man being carried in before scrambling to get a gurney. Face groaned and curled up into a ball on his side as soon as they laid him down.

"What happened?" the nurse asked as she wheeled Face into an examination room.

"My son, Tom, was mugged early this morning," Hannibal lied. "He seemed okay at first, but just started to complain about stomach pain."

"And just now, outside, he was throwing up blood," Murdock added anxiously.

The nurse frowned as she took Face's racing heart rate and alarmingly low blood pressure and then began scribbling notes onto a clipboard.

"Excuse me, ma'am," Hannibal started. "I don't want to sound pushy, but I think my son needs a doctor right away."

The nurse looked up and nodded her head in agreement. "The name is Jackie, and don't worry the doctor should be here in just a few moments. I pressed a call button on the way in alerting him to the urgency of the situation. However, Dr. Reed is the only one on call." She smiled sympathetically. "Let me go see if I can perhaps hurry him along or finish up with his current patient, Mr…"

"Smithers, John Smithers." Hannibal pointed to Murdock. "This is my nephew Howard."

"I'll be right back."

"Thank you," Hannibal said. 'Please hurry,' he thought as she scurried out the door.

"Howard?" Murdock asked. "You had to name me Howard?"

Hannibal shrugged. "Since you won't tell us what H.M. stands for I had to improvise."

Face started to chuckle weakly, but it was cut short as another spasm of pain hit. "Make…make it…stop," he whimpered.

"I wish I could, kid," Hannibal said softly, rubbing Face's back. "Hang in there."

But Face was beyond hearing; all he could do was feel the pain.

"Murdock, this is all my fault."

"C'mon, colonel. None of us noticed that Face was really hurting."

Hannibal shook his head. "But you weren't there. You didn't see how hard he was hit. He damn near lost consciousness…hell he did for a few seconds. He couldn't see straight or answer my questions. And then I had him help me move a hot water heater less than 30 minutes later." Hannibal looked disgusted. "What kind of leader am I?"

"The best kind," Murdock encouraged. "He seemed okay when I met up with him in the barn. You didn't know."

"But I should have known."

The opening of the door interrupted the discussion and in walked a middle aged man. "I'm Dr. Reed. My nurse filled me in on the basics, but I'd like you to stay as I examine Tom in case I have some questions. I'm afraid this won't be pleasant for him."

"I wouldn't have left his side anyway."

"Okay, let's start with what exactly happened."

"He was mugged about, ehmm…, six hours ago. He was hit in the gut with the butt of a heavy riffle and then in the face."

"Has he been unconscious?"

"For a few seconds, yes. And he couldn't answer my questions afterwards, but he recovered real fast and just started complaining again a short while ago."

The pain from being moved died down again and Face was somewhat aware of his surroundings. This didn't go unnoticed by the doctor who bent over his patient.

"I want to ask you a few questions before I examine you, Tom."

Hannibal remembered that Face had probably not heard the cover story and quickly jumped in.

"Tom, son, I want you to be totally honest with the doc, do you hear me, son?"

It was only meant to fill Face in on his persona but to him it came across as 'follow my orders or else…'

"Did you feel dizzy, lightheaded or nauseous?"

"Yes sir."

"Yes what?"

"All…all of them, sir."

"Okay, what about headache, visual problems?"

"Yes sir."

"All of them?"

"Yes sir."

Hannibal and Murdock shared a worried glance.

"Good, now let me have a look at your stomach. Tell me when it hurts."

"It does."

"I know, turn to your back."

Face lightly shock his head 'no' but then thought again. He cast a quick glance at Hannibal and complied with gritted teeth.

The doctor lifted the shirt and after a first look took a scissors and cut it off his patient. He proceeded to lightly press on the wound and was rewarded with a cry of pain and Face's hands around his wrists, keeping him from touching again.

"Tom, let go off the doc." Hannibal knew how strong Face was and also that his training could make him break the doctors bones.

Face complied and the doc rubbed his wrists. "Has he taken anything?"

"No."

"Good, I'll give him something for the pain before I go on."

"He reacts badly on strong pain killers and sedatives."

"That can't be helped right now. I can't examine him that way and therefore can't help him. Does your son have a mental problem?"

"No, why?"

"Sorry, just because of the way he's acting like we're in military and he's under orders. Doesn't seem as if he's in his right mind. Probably the concussion."