A/N: Another little short insight into what Face's thinking about. Ah well. I own nothing! Enjoys:)

It was like listening to a drama movie. Face had recognized Lynch's whiny voice the moment the Agent spoke and he wished he could have groaned loudly. Then go demand to know who let Lynch loose. When they mentioned moving him, Face was overcome with worry. The lat thing they needed was to be caught now of all times. He had thought they lost this time when the bed suddenly had stopped moving and suddenly Murdock's voice was there.

Once in the room, Face was not sure what had happened. He could hear the exchange between the two, hear Murdock suddenly leap up and pin Lynch down. He mentioned the bobby pin trick and Face would have smirked, glad that had worked for him, too.

The Captain had gotten Face back and for that, the conman was a little thankful. Murdock had not broken down, and that counted for something. Of course, they still had the Agents there.

Until Murdock returned some time later, talking about injecting them and calling the police about some druggies who passed out in the alley. Murdock was pretty cleaver. Now Face could sense the mood being brought down a little bit at a time.

He kept trying to figure out how to trigger his wake up button, but nothing he tried seemed to work. A few days passed, the team still sat with him. But they talked about having to leave, and why they couldn't stay here. Lynch knew where they were and he would defiantly be coming back for them. Face did not want them to leave, but he sure as hell did not want them to get caught and thrown in prison. He would rather face it himself when he woke up then hear his teammates being drug out to some armored van waiting for them while there's nothing he can do about it. Being helpless was always something Faceman despised.

And the fact that the hospital staff, and Murdock, had to keep him groomed was enough to give him a complex. And Templeton Peck does NOT get complexes. It was a rule among the rules, in the rule book of life for the man. And here he was, these people touching his hair and face...it would have nauseated him if he were awake.

And also the realization that it had been what, a week, almost two, since his last shower. That disgusted the man to the end of time and back. It was these things Face wanted to focus on instead of the coma itself. Whenever he thought of the coma, he could feel himself beginning to freak out, for lack of better terms. And Templeton Peck did NOT freak out.

Now as he came to think of it, there seemed to be a lot of things he did not do. Heck, he should just make a list. That would give him something to do for a while. Then perhaps after that he could come up with a list of things he DID do. Face smiled internally. He was good with lists.

He decided on a list of things he could make a list out of. Things he did not do. Things he did do. The best hair care products, and then the worst. Reasons why it would probably be best for all concerned if B.A. really did attempt to throw Murdock out a window.

He had his whole day planned out and would most likely think of more lists as the day went on, though he had no idea what time it is. List number one was starting out pretty good when- OH!

Face's heart suddenly sped up and his thoughts froze mid-list. He had just moved his fingers. It was an amazing feeling. He curled his fingers into his palm, flexing them back out again. No other parts of his body would respond, but Face was just ecstatic that he could do this small movement.

And it was worth it when he heard, "Son of a bitch, Hannibal! Come here!"

Murdock dropped to his knees beside the bed, huge eyes staring down at Face's moving fingers. He waved the others over, pointing eagerly. Hannibal chuckled and B.A. raised his eyebrows. "Well, I'll be damned."

"Is that a good sign?" Murdock asked, inclining his neck to peer back at his CO behind him. Hannibal nodded, patting his shoulder. "It is."

They continued to watch for a few more minutes before B.A. cleared his throat and was back to his grumpy demeanor. He dropped into the arm chair, reaching for the remote. Murdock stayed on his knees but Hannibal mentioned something about the bathroom and was gone within a few seconds.

As a rerun of the Simpsons played on the small TV, B.A. turned to Murdock across the room. "Ya just gonn' watch 'im all day?"

Murdock looked up at him innocently. "Not all day. But I wanna be here when Face opens his eyes." The pilot insisted. B.A. snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah, 'cause the first thing I'd wanna see after wakin' up from a coma is your face."

"That's not nice," Murdock blew him a raspberry though B.A. hardly paid him any more attention and went back to watching the TV. But Murdock was not done talking apparently. He pulled himself off the floor and walked past the bigger man to sprawl on the bench. "If that was me in the coma, would you be really sad?" Murdock wondered, a teasing light in his eyes. "I bet you'd be cryin' and begging on your knees for me to wake up. Because deep down, you and I both know nothin' can tear the two of us apart. Ain't that right?"

B.A. was giving him his 'Murdock-I'm-Warnin'-Ya' glare. "I'll come ova there and tear you apart if ya don't shut up." He threatened.

The Captain snickered. "Good thing we're in a hospital then."

"I got an idea," B.A. leaned forwards. "You can stay here and I'll go see if they got a crazy ward here. We can dump ya in it for a while, get some brain-fixin' pills in ya."

Murdock stiffened at the word 'pill' and shook himself, recovering to glare at Bosco. "That's not funny, and you know it!"

"Then I guess we got different ideas of what's funny and what ain't."

"Yes we do." Murdock nodded defiantly. "Because I don't have to pound somebody's face in too laugh."

B.A. glanced at the door then back to Murdock almost boredly. "That's funny. 'Cept it's only hilarious when it's your face." He then proceeded to laugh. Murdock gasped, scooting down the bench away from him when Hannibal came back.

"Oh no," He noticed B.A. laughing. "Did someone just die on the television?"

Murdock pointed to B.A. with a pout. "He thinks it's, hilarious when my face gets pounded in." He tattled and Hannibal raised his eyebrows at B.A., who shrugged, focusing on the TV to quiet his snickers.

On his way over to the other chair, Hannibal paused to look down at the patient. Face was still curling and uncurling his fingers. But by now, his whole wrist was moving with it. Hannibal assumed Face was so excited by this sudden mobility, he could hardly stop for fear he would not be able to move again.

But he seemed to be recovering. It would only be a matter of time before he would be able to move the bigger limbs such as legs and arms. Then his eyes would open and they would all be okay. But until then, Hannibal and the other two could be relieved.

A/N: FYI compadres, this is NOT the end!