Face looked the picture of relaxation. His head was tipped back against the wall of the Huey, his eyes all but closed.

I knew better.

Not just because where his thigh and arm touched mine I felt the tremors running through him. Or that I could see his eyes moving incessantly beneath those slit lids. But because I've been there. The burden of command. Its never easy to let go.

God but I'm glad to get him back in one piece. Damn. We're lucky this screw up didn't cost us lives.

The kid did good. I knew seasoned officers that wouldn't have held things together as well as he did.

"Face." Ray nudged him.

The kid opened one eye. Like I said the picture of relaxation.

Ray passed him a candy bar. The kid raised a thin smile. The hand he reached out shook noticeably. The kid saw it too and quickly pulled it back into in his lap.

I made a quick decision. "Murdock. I think I hear a rattling."

Murdock half turns and looked in my direction, his brow creased in surprise and concern that something might, in fact, be wrong with his beloved bird.

He must have read my expression though because he grinned.

"Yes Sir."

We made a completed unauthorized detour to Saigon. I left Murdock and B.A. to take care of the bird. Ray to inform the base of our 'delay' and I took the kid to secure some accommodations.

I headed purposefully towards the best Hotel in town.

Suddenly the kid stopped dead and ran a shaky hand through his hair. "I'm gonna need a chance of clothes." He blurted.

He looked surprised when I shot him a glance. Like he didn't mean to say that aloud.

"Don't worry about it Face" I tried to reassure him.

I wanted to get him into a hot bath and a soft bed before he fell asleep on his feet. I could send Murdock out to get him some clothes later. He knew what the kid liked.

"Shit Hannibal." He shook his head, his voice tight. "I'm not a damn miracle worker."

I blinked. That's not like Face. Then even as I watched I could see him straighten his shoulders, smoothing his hands over his bedraggled uniform. Suddenly I understood. Poor kid thought I wanted him to scam us some rooms.

I put my hand on his arm. "Not this time Face."

He blinked at me. His eyes wide and uncomprehending.

I waved away his protests as I paid at the reception with actual money.

As we travelled up in the elevator his ramrod posture deserted him and he sagged against the mirrored wall. I think about priorities. Bath first. Then bed. He can eat when he wakes up.

He trailed unhappily after me into the suite. It cost a little more, but I wanted the Team together tonight. We all needed it. I opened my mouth to order the kid into the bath. He beat me to it.

"I'm sorry Hannibal." He blurted, looking downright ashamed of himself.

"What?" I frowned at him.

In answer he waved his hand at the opulence around us. Jesus does the kid really think I'm such an orgre that I'm gonna made him work when he was dead on his feet?

I filed that thought away for later. Right now, I just steered him into the bathroom.

"Sit." I pushed him down on the closed toilet seat. Then turned to fiddle with the taps. As the room began to fill with steam I turned back to the kid.

He hadn't moved.

"Need a hand?" I suggested.

He struggled to rouse himself. "I can manage."

"Uh huh." I don't leave.

I gave him am minute.

No reaction.

"Face?" I prompted.

With a sigh he fumbled with the buttons on the front of his shirt. Several agonizing minutes later he finally had it undone.

Then he leant over and begans to tug at the laces on his boots. One of them was snarled and caked with mud. He tugged harder and it snapped off in his hand. He looked miserably at the frayed cotton thread.

Without a word I knelt down and deftly dealt with the laces. Putrid socks followed to reveal, red, swollen, feet. Gently, I pulled the toes apart and a thick tell tale musk filled the room as I surveyed the cracked, infected, skin.

"Ouch." I exclaimed sympathetically. "What were you trieding to do? Walk back?"

He turned away and I curse, whoever or whatever made a bright, eager, kid feel so damn worthless.

I pulled him to his feet.

He rolled his eyes, but allowed me to help him out of his pants. Then I steadied him as he peels off his T-Shirt.

I froze. His back was covered in yellow bruises and fading red welts.

Those didn't happen in the last five days. Feeling me tense he half turned his eyes questioning.

"What the hell happened to you?" I demanded.

He blinked, then understanding flashed across his face, he flushed a deep red as he turned away. "Its nothing."

"The hell it isn't Lieutenant." I snapped.

The welts and boot size bruises told their own story. With sudden inspiration I reached out and turned over his wrist. The thin red marks have faded slightly. But they are there.

Handcuffs.

"And when were you planning on telling me about this?" I heard the ice in my voice.

He swallowed. But raises his head and meets my eyes squarely.

"I wasn't."

"I beg your pardon Lieutenant." I glowered.

"I believe the Colonel heard me the first time. Sir." His eyes flashed.