Hidden treasure part 2

As the doctor wished, Hannibal was moved to a regular room the following day.

Face was able to see him for some minutes, while he still was in the ICU: he lay on the flat surface unmoving and pale but alive. His breath was regular and there were many noises around him coming from the machines that were monitoring his pulse and vitals. It was strange to see the Colonel so still. The three days old grey beard was strange on him, making him look several years older. Hannibal used to shave every day and Face knew he wouldn't like to appear so shabby.

The lieutenant carefully sat beside him and held his cold hand in his own, hoping the man could feel him and wake up, tell him everything was alright. Face needed someone to reassure him that he had done the right thing and that someone was his CO, his friend, his secret desire: John Smith.

Murdock and BA were on his side, he knew that. When he told them about the ambush and how they survived in the cave, they were impressed and expressed their admiration to him for having kept a cool head for so long. The pilot especially told him several times he had done everything in his power to save Hannibal's life and that Wilson was alive only because of him.

That didn't change the fact that Miller was dead. Face knew he had a family back in the US and he knew someone had probably already contacted his family – his mother – to tell her that her son had died while serving his country in the Iraqi desert, doing his job. She would have probably cried and grieved for her lost son but eventually she would have gone on with her life, knowing it was a risk of the job and accepting the fate of her son.

Only it was his responsibility the guy was now dead and he didn't think he could live with that. Miller and Wilson were under his and Hannibal's command and even if technically Hannibal was in charge for the mission, he couldn't help but think they could have acted differently and maybe, maybe the kid would still be with them.

It was the first time Face saw someone under his command die. He still could see in his mind the terrified expression on Miller's face when the bullet caught him: eyes wide with fear, he had looked at him as if to ask for help but immediately fell to the ground.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Miller talking and the following moment die in front of him.

He wasn't prepared for this. Maybe Hannibal, who was older and had been in special forces for longer, maybe he would have known how to react in a similar situation, but the Lieutenant was too young and inexperienced to handle the shock.

If Hannibal was awake, he would have told him it wasn't his fault and it was normal to feel the way he was feeling.

He had been there for Face, the first time he killed a man; it was a covert operation and Face was perfect, everybody complimented him for his cool head. Truth was Face was scared shitless and that night Hannibal found him unable to sleep because every time he closed his eyes he was seeing the man he had killed. The Colonel explained to him, with gentle words, that he had felt the same way many years ago, when it was his first time. That Face was going to feel bad for some time but he shouldn't think he was guilty for his actions because they were soldiers and that was what soldiers do in order to defend their country.

The young soldier found out his words were prophetic: yes, he had felt bad for some time but soon he learned how to deal with the guilt complex and went on with his life, accepting this was part of the job.

"Hannibal, please, wake up for me…" he whispered to the silent man in the bed, holding his hand, careful of the IV port.

A hand on his shoulder startled him and he looked up at the orderly, who told him his five minutes had passed. Reluctantly, he released Hannibal's hand and walked out of the room, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other.

Once outside the room, he let Murdock guide him to the nearest chair where he sat, again, head in his hands, trying hard to breathe despite the weight that was compressing his chest and the black dots that were filling his vision. Face knew he couldn't go on any longer without food or rest but was too afraid to close his eyes and re-open them to a new tragic reality.

"Face, you ok?" the pilot asked, knowing it was a rhetorical question and that his friend was far from ok.

"I don't feel so good," the LT admitted in a low voice, hoping not to sound too pathetic.

He heard Murdock ask BA to get him something to eat; a few seconds later – or so Face thought – two chocolate candy bars appeared in front of him, along with a cup of hot chocolate. After thanking the pilot, the Lieutenant devoured the candy bars and carefully sipped the hot drink.

BA was explaining it was all he could find in the vending machine of the hospital. To him, they had never tasted so good.

With his stomach full, Face now felt a sudden lethargy growing in him. BA and Murdock exchanged worried looks, then the black man disappeared down the end of the corridor, into the doctor's office.

The LT was aware something was going on around him but couldn't keep his eyes open now. Suddenly he felt someone gently helping him to his feet and walk a few steps, then he was pushed flat on his back on a soft surface and the world went dark around him.

The next time he opened his eyes it was to a familiar ceiling; Murdock was sleeping beside him on the small bed and BA was snoring in the plastic chair near the head of the bed. Sensing his friend was waking up, the pilot opened tired eyes to look at him and was relieved to see the younger man was now awake and aware of his surroundings. BA was immediately awake too.

"What time is it?" he asked, his voice still rough from sleep.

Murdock glanced at his watch and yawned. "It's 8:45. You slept 12 hours buddy! How do you feel?"

Ignoring the question, Face only tensed and sat up, running hands through his unruly hair.

"Why did you let me sleep for so long, HM? How is Hannibal?" he asked instead.

"He has been moved to a regular room about half an hour ago. The doctors said he is stable and he should wake up soon."

Letting out a long sigh, Face smiled tiredly. "Can I see him?"

"Once you have a proper breakfast!"

"I don't have time to eat, Murdock."

"The doctor said you have to eat and drink in order to replace your fluids and sugar levels. And that's what you're going to do. Unless you want to be bedridden until he says you're ok." Murdock's tone told Face he wasn't kidding.

"Oh come on HM! They can't hold me against my will! You know that!"

Resting both hands on his face, Murdock looked the younger man directly in his eyes. Face stilled at the gesture and waited for him to speak.

"Face, when we found you in that cave you were catatonic, you were covered in blood and in shock. You did not sleep for three days nor did you eat. Yesterday you collapsed in the ICU corridor. You're exhausted, buddy! You need to take it easy and listen to the doctor's advice."

Face opened his mouth to reply but Murdock didn't let him.

"I know you're worried about Hannibal and you want to be with him. But you're not doing any good to him by making yourself sick. Plus, the doctors are with him right now and it will be another hour before they let you in. Please, Face. Help us help you!"

Knowing Murdock was right, the LT nodded. He ate all his breakfast – and found out he was hungry, after all – even letting the doctor check his vitals. Once it was determined he was alright, all considering, he was admitted to Hannibal's room.

This one was less scary than the previous one. The older man seemed to be resting comfortably, the heart monitor still attached and beeping but they said it was just a precaution. Despite the big blood loss, Hannibal was doing good and they couldn't see any reasons for him not to make a full recovery.

Thanking God for having accepted his prayers, Face prepared himself for a long day. He sat by the Colonel's side all the morning, then Murdock released him and BA took him out of the hospital for dinner. An hour later, they came back. Hannibal hadn't awakened yet.

It was only around 5 in the afternoon that he stirred and mumbled something. Face was at his side immediately, holding his hand and murmuring reassurances that he was okay and he was going to be alright. After what seemed an eternity, finally he opened his eyes and looked around him, his gaze unfocused at the beginning but then Hannibal found the face he was searching for.

"Face…" he murmured, his voice small and rough.

"I'm here, Hannibal!" the LT stated on the verge of tears, his own voice soft and unsteady.

"Wasn't your fault, Face…" Hannibal murmured again, closing his eyes against the brightness of the lights.

Face was too shocked to understand the meaning of the older man's words.

"You did a good job, LT. You saved my life and Wilson's. I am proud of you…" Hannibal went on, eyes still closed but his tone resolute.

Face felt tears swimming in his eyes, actually tried to choke them back but couldn't. He was stunned that Hannibal knew what he was thinking; after what he had been through, his first coherent thought was about him and his well being.

"I've been there, Face. I know what you think. It wasn't your fault!" the Colonel replied and squeezed the lieutenant's hand a little more, forcing his eyes open to look at him.

"Hannibal, I… I don't know what to say!" the younger man whispered in return, his gaze falling to his knees, not being able to hold the Colonel's look.

"I love you, Kid! Thank you for being there for me!" Hannibal breathed softly, before succumbing to sleep once again.

Face felt himself blushing, tears falling on his cheeks. He had a question in his mind: what did the Colonel mean when he said "I love you"? I love you like a teammate, like a brother or like a son? Or maybe he was meaning something more? But Hannibal was sound asleep and he just hoped to have a second occasion to deepen the subject with the older man.

TBC