Author's note: Matt's antipathy against SEALs, something which some people seem to have taken offense to, stems from the specific unit he served with. Although I won't reveal anything before its time, I can tell you that a lot of it is based on actual (researched) fact, and I just have taken it a little beyond its historical perimeters. It will become clear later on in the story.

Those aren't nightmares Matt is having; they're memories. Bad ones.


7. WAR IS HELL

He is busy reloading, tilting his rifle to drop the expended cartridge on the ground so the sun won't reflect off it and give away his position, when all hell breaks loose behind him. He hears Kyle yelling his name; there's more but he can't make out the words through the ongoing sound of gunfire.

A split second later it feels like the back of his left leg is hit by a sledgehammer, immediately followed by a searing pain. He screams and pivots onto his back, feels several more bullets impact beside him, then starts sliding sideways off the sand dune.

He manages to grab onto his rifle with his right hand and sees three insurgents; one is down, his keffiyeh or 'head-scarf' drenched with blood. Kyle's work, no doubt. He scans for Mark and Tony, realizes they're just over the next ridge; they're trying to fix the Hummer's transmission after it got stuck in first gear because some dork SEAL-officer back home refused to sign off on new equipment again.

The two other insurgents, wearing black balaclavas with their MP5 rifles aimed at him, are advancing towards him, and his left hand has his Kimber already out of its holster, flipping off the safety with his thumb, when a bullet hits his upper chest underneath his right armpit; it slams the breath out of him.

He screams again, weakly this time, instinctively reaching up with his left hand, and the next bullet ricochets off his side-arm and hits his forehead.

But this time is different, this time the world doesn't turn black immediately; there's hands grabbing him, shaking him, and he tries to fight them, thinks they'll kill him if he doesn't break free. They scream at him, their words sounding urgent, but they're incomprehensible; he has to break free, has to get out.


Joe and Gabriel start running towards Matt's room when they hear the second scream, and as they reach the door a nurse comes out, tears in her eyes, holding a hand to what appears to be a rapidly swelling cheek.

As they looks inside they see two orderlies struggling to hold down the figure in the bed, struggling but obviously losing their grip, and one of them suddenly flies backwards as a large fist connects with his head.

Gabriel runs towards the bed and then ducks out of the way as Matt's fist zooms past his left ear; Joe is right behind him and just manages to grab Matt's right arm before the other orderly gets punched as well. The man quickly shoots him a grateful look, then grunts as he tries to hang on to Matt's left arm with all his might.

"Get off me, sons of bitches, get off me!"

Gabriel looks at his partner, sees the sweat streaming off his face, the clenched jaw muscles. He doesn't know where Matt's mind has dumped him, but it's not his happy place.

Joe locks his right hand on Matt's wrist, quickly steps close to the bed and snakes his left arm over the bed rail and Matt's elbow, then underneath, and grabs his own arm. He nods to the orderly. "You do the same, son!"

The man quickly follows Joe's example, and within seconds they have Matt pinned down helplessly. Gabriel leans over and grabs him by the shoulders, yelling at him, trying to get through to him. He barely manages to prevent from being head-butted by yanking back his head. Matt trashes his legs and bucks like a wild horse, roaring, but there's no escaping the double grip the men have on him.

Gabriel yells at him again, vaguely hears running footsteps behind him and quickly looks up; a doctor comes running in, takes in the scene and yells over his shoulder "Bring me a shot of Haldol-Ativan ten and two, stat!"

The doctor throws his upper body over Matt's legs, still thrashing wildly. Gabriel steps up to join him.

Moments later a nurse comes running in carrying a syringe. The orderly who has been punched by Matt and now sports a huge reddish-blue bruise spreading across his eye and cheekbone, steps up to relieve the doctor. "You're sure? Looks like he got you good!" The orderly nods and applies his weight to one of Matt's legs, Gabriel still leaning on the other one.

The doctor takes the syringe from the nurse, lifts up the blanket and without hesitation drives the needle into Matt's left buttock, pressing down on the plunger.

Matt howls an expletive, then screams: "Let me the fuck go, dammit; let GO!" He fights hard to break loose and just before the doctor helps to pin down his legs again, manages to get one leg free and kick the orderly square in the face.

"Holy cow!" The doctor watches the orderly go down for the count, blood streaming from his nose. Joe and the other orderly tighten their grip even further to keep control of Matt's arms. "Doctor, what the hell is going on here?" asks Joe as he looks at the enraged man whose arm he's holing. "And when is that stuff going to kick in?!"

The doctor, now panting with effort while he helps restrain Matt, glances at Joe. "We ran a full set of tests for his head injury and found nothing wrong, so all I can think of is that this is psychological." He nods at the tattoo partially visible on Matt's right shoulder, displaying the words 'Semper Fi'. "He's obviously been a marine, most likely been in combat. God knows what he's been through, has seen or experienced."

He grunts as Matt nearly manages to get one leg free again. "This is something that is becoming a subject of interest in the medical world; there are some soldiers with previously undiagnosed Post Traumatic Stress Disorder or PTSD that, when they wake up from the anaesthesia, think they are back on a battlefield."

Gabriel looks at Matt; he now better understands what his partner meant years ago when he told him he had reasons for not being in a relationship, for not having a woman. He sees his dark eyes are wide open, but they're not registering anything that happens in the room; he's off somewhere else, he's stuck in a war.

"As for when the sedative will kick in" the doctor continues, "he's so pumped with adrenaline that it might take another ten minutes or so. Any longer than that and I will have restraints put on him; can't have the staff get injured any more than they already have."

Matt's eyes come to rest on Gabriel, who almost takes a step back at the combination of blood-lust, stark terror and fear he sees in the usually calm eyes. He flinches as Matt starts to buck again, causing the orderly to bump into the side-table and send a glass flying off.

Gabriel yells at Matt again. "Matt, come on buddy! Snap out of it!"

For a second he thinks he's gotten through to him; he watches as Matt literally seems to try dragging himself out of the hell his mind had thrown him in, back to realization. Then Gabriel sees the dark terror take a hold of his partner again, and he's back in a battle.

"I need to order restraints, we can't allow this to continue" says the doctor, as Matt starts fighting them again.

"Hang on, doc, let me try for a sec, all right?" says Joe. He puts his face close to Matt's ear, then shouts: "Hey, marine .. hey boot!" Matt's head snaps towards Joe. "Ain't no damn boot! Don't call me that!" Joe grins. "I know, son, but I sure got your attention."

It looks like Joe may have actually gotten through to him; Matt's struggles seem to ease off, the clenched jaw relaxing slightly. Gabriel lets out a sigh of relief.

"That's it, dude, come on. You're in the hospital, not some fucking war zone!"

He watches Matt draw a ragged breath, then relax even further, and feels a surge of pity for the man, wondering how he has hidden this aspect of himself so well.


Matt frowns as he tries to remember who the guy who just insulted him is. He doesn't think he knows him, but he can't be sure.

He's confused, he's got a hell of a headache, his chest feels like it's on fire, and there's something wrong with his arms. He looks down and sees they're being pinned to the side of the bed by both the orderly and the man who just called him a 'boot'. Why?

He remembers something about being shot, something about hands grabbing him, and something about hands applying something wet to his private parts. He thinks he protested the actions but he's not sure.

"Hey, thanks Joe" another voice says. Matt is now really working hard to concentrate. He thinks he remembers the Mexican looking man the voice belongs to, has seen him before somewhere. But where?

He slowly looks back at the man named Joe, who is releasing his arm. "... definitely looks like PTSD, seen it before ..."

PTSD? He asks the man a question, or at least tries to, but doesn't get further than a few mumbled words. "What's that?" the man, Joe, asks him. Matt tries again but fails hopelessly, his tongue a dead weight in his mouth and his lips refusing to cooperate.

He sees the man smile, almost gently, a web of wrinkles appearing around his steel blue eyes, and he feels him place a hand on his arm. "Never mind, son" says the man, "you go get some rest."

Matt thinks this is a good idea, as his head is now too fuzzy to form any coherent thoughts.

He sighs deeply, then has a coughing fit which causes a sharp pain to shoot through his chest. He groans between the coughs, starts to feel nauseous. Hands quickly roll him over on his side, he wants to protest but he's just too damn weak.

"Easy now, son" he hears the man say. "Easy." He feels a reassuring hand being placed on his shoulder, and Matt gives in to the overwhelming urge to close his eyes.

"He's out" says the doctor, and breathes a sigh of relief, then quickly checks Matt's pulse and looks at the monitors. "All good?" asks Joe. The doctor nods, then looks around the room, at the orderly still out cold on the floor, at the blood spattered across the bed from knuckles hitting faces and Matt ripping out his IV.

"Christ, what a mess!"

He kneels down next to the orderly, checks his pulse, then quickly shines a light in first one, then the other eye. "Well" he says, "guess who else probably has a concussion." With that he gets up and leaves the room to find some assistance.

Gabriel stares at the bed where Matt is now lying on his side, mouth half open and snoring lightly. A stubble of beard, liberally dusted with grey, is fighting its way through the tight skin on his cheeks and chin. His hair, still predominantly brown, short and thick, half covers a circular scar on his forehead where Gabriel knows a bullet pierced his skull. There's another scar running across his chin.

Matt has seen plenty of action, the doctor was right there.

As he watches, he suddenly realizes he's never seen Matt sleep. Every stake-out they've been on, every case they had to work and spend a night somewhere either in the car, or a hotel, he's always waken up to find Matt already drinking coffee, or exercising, or looking at the place they were casing. Not once, however, has he ever woken up before Matt. Damn the self-control of that man!

They hear somebody at the door; it's Danny.

"Hey, is this the room of Detective Ma ... holy shit, what the f ..."

He stares at the blood covering the bed and the floor, the chair the orderly broke when Matt's kick sent him crashing backwards, the side table leaning against the wall and the broken glass on the floor beside it. He moves out of the way of two orderlies wheeling in a gurney, watches them place the limp body of the orderly on the floor onto it and wheel him out again.

He runs a hand though his hair, almost lost for words. "What the hell did I walk in on? It looks like a war zone in here."

Joe smiles. "That's probably exactly what Detective Sterling thought it was, Danny. The doc thinks he may have had some form of flashback due to the anesthesia."

"Huh" says Danny, looking at the big man now lying peacefully in his bed. "Guess he caused a bit of a commotion."

Joe grins. "Oh he did, he sure did. You don't want to get on this one's wrong side, wouldn't be a good idea, I think."

Danny looks at Joe, then back at Matt. "I, eh ... I think I already got introduced to that particular aspect of his character. Something about a couch ..."

Gabriel, incredibly, grins. "Yeah, you always know when Matt's been at it again. I swear each footstep that man takes is followed by an explosion." He says it with something close to adoration. Danny is totally and utterly disgusted by it.

"Well" says Joe, "that boy is as tough as nails, that's for certain."

Gabriel nods in agreement. "I've seen him do stuff, and know he's gone through stuff that would make any normal guy run like a dog with his tail on fire." He rests a hand on Matt's shoulder. "The funny thing is, underneath all that, the guy really has a big heart." He feels a wave of emotion, and he quickly scrapes his throat to get rid of the sudden lump there.

Joe smiles at him, and Danny leans over to place a hand on his arm. "Don't worry, you know, we know what it's like to have a hurt partner or friend here, and what that does to you. It's perfectly fine to get a little emotional about all that."

Gabriel nods briefly, appreciating the fact that nobody is making fun of his emotions.

Danny turns to Joe. "I came here because Steve would like to know more about that intel you got on Brody." He continues, slightly more sarcastically: "He thinks it's important we all sacrifice our evening and get to the bottom of this case." Winking at Gabriel he lets him know it's just a joke, that they're actually very serious where the case is concerned.

Joe walks to the door, taking another look at the sleeping figure in bed. "Well, I think we'd better get back to HQ then. I'm sure Matt here is in good hands." He smiles at Gabriel.

"Yes sir, don't worry; I'll watch over Matt here like a mother looks after her baby."

Joe nods and walks out with Danny, who quickly pats Gabriel on the shoulder. "You need anything, information or otherwise, just call us." They leave the room.

Gabriel sits with Matt for hours, watching him sleep. Every restless move he makes causes him to tense up, to be ready to call for help, but Matt slips back into a deep sleep every time. Gabriel is certain that he still has bad dreams, as he can see him frown from time to time, or hears him mumble. But they're minor things compared to the scene a few hours before.

At a certain point Gabriel decides he needs to eat, to stretch before he becomes permanently attached to the chair. He looks at Matt, and decides the man is still so far gone from the additional sedation the doctor gave him just over an hour ago, that he can easily pop out for a little while without running the risk of him waking up.

He leaves the room, walks up to the nurses station to inform them he will be gone for a while. The little blonde behind the counter smiles at him, nodding her understanding. "Don't worry, we'll keep a eye on him."

As she watches him walk down the hallway, she picks up the phone, dials a number and waits for the call to be answered.

"Ma'am? He's alone now, there's nobody with him."


So, yes, Matt is a bit of a hot-head, but with good reason. I mean, he's been through quite a lot, and he obviously has PTSD. And that's a pretty serious condition which can cause people to go through complete character changes and lose control of themselves. Just go a little easy on him, he doesn't mean to be such a jerk ;-)

Now, who could the woman be the nurse called?