Chapter Warnings: Mild language (might've missed this tag for a few past chapters, sorry), moderate gore

"I've got you, brother…." Brother (Kodaline)

"What the hell is the point of me wearing a mic if you don't listen, Face?" Hannibal snapped but his stern expression changed quickly to one of shock as he recognized the silent form in B.A.'s arms. Face moved ahead and leapt into the back of the van, unclipping and shucking off his vest and weapon and tossing Murdock's cap and jacket into the back before taking Murdock from Bosco and scooting back till he was sitting between the two middle seats, the pilot propped carefully against Face's chest. Hannibal got in next, seating himself in Face's usual place beside the door while Bosco got up front and started driving as soon as the doors were shut. The sooner they got away from this place, the better. The guards and Brenner could catch on at any time and Face honestly wasn't sure if they'd be pursued or not.

As soon as they were on their way, Hannibal crouched by Murdock's legs and reached out to check his pulse at his wrist.

"Has he said anything, Face?"

"No." Face shook his head, trying and failing to ignore how very thin Murdock felt in his arms. "No, I'm not… I'm not even sure he's really awake."

Hannibal nodded, pausing a second or two to monitor the pilot's pulse before his hand moved to the soaked shirt, his eyes flicking up to Face questioningly. The lieutenant shifted, pulling aside the blanket still wrapped around Murdock's shoulders so Hannibal could get a better look at the pilot's wounds.

"He's covered in it, Boss, but I can't find anything."

Face's voice was tight; the silence and unresponsiveness from his friend was far worse than the tearful reunion he'd expected. Murdock being quiet was just unnatural. Usually it took a threat from B.A. or an order from Hannibal just to get the guy to shut up. It scared Face more than he'd like to admit and he longed to hear his friend's voice again so he could replace the memory of the trembling fear he'd heard during that first phone call with something new, better and safe.

Hannibal nodded in acknowledgment, his face going in and out from shadowed darkness to yellow-orange light as they passed streetlamps. The colonel lifted Murdock's shirt as far as he was able with the pilot's hands still pulled up to his chest and a dark anger entered his eyes at the sight of the multi-shaded bruising that covered the younger man's torso. Face kept Murdock upright while Hannibal probed gently across the pilot's chest. Murdock didn't make a sound; his only reaction to the whole process was a sharp intake of breath when Hannibal pressed lightly on his right side.

"Broken rib," Hannibal muttered. "And probably more bruised if not cracked." Face looked down at the shaggy head against his chest as Hannibal turned Murdock's face from side to side gently, his touch surprisingly light for a seasoned soldier. They passed another streetlamp and Hannibal leaned forward, frowning and tracing a mark on Murdock's neck with careful fingers.

"What is it?" Face asked.

Hannibal turned, pulling the team's first aid kit out from under a seat and digging in it till he found one of their instant ice packs, cracking it to get it cooling before passing it to Face.

"Hold that to his neck and keep him upright." Face did as he was told, wrapping the pack in a bit of the blanket so the cold wasn't too sharp. He watched Hannibal move on to Murdock's legs and only just realized that one of the pilot's pajama pant legs was torn up to the knee and something was tied around his calf. Hannibal spoke while he worked, seemingly sensing his lieutenant's anxiety. "There are strangulation marks on his neck but they seem… off. I'll have to get a better look at the hotel. Until then, we need to keep the swelling down."

"Nearly there, Hannibal," Bosco called over his shoulder. Hannibal nodded and sat back, apparently not wanting to attempt unwrapping Murdock's leg until they had better light and a stable surface to work on. The rest of the trip was spent in silence, Hannibal doing his best to keep Murdock's injured leg still and Face trying to keep the cold pack on his friend's neck while simultaneously tucking the blanket further around the trembling body.

Getting Murdock up to the hotel room was tricky but they managed to get his bloody clothes covered by the blanket and Bosco carried him the whole way while Hannibal explained to the confused man at the front desk that they'd been on a fishing trip when their friend had fallen into the lake and had a mild case of hypothermia. The man offered to call an ambulance but Hannibal assured him they'd dealt with worse. That was enough to get them back to their rooms where Bosco laid Murdock on the first bed he came to and stepped aside as Face set the first aid kit on the side table and Hannibal flicked on the light. Murdock flinched but didn't speak. Still, he looked more aware than he had back at the VA, his eyes open wider though the lids still drooped sleepily.

At a word from Hannibal, B.A. brought the pillows from the other bed and used them to prop Murdock up in a sitting position. Bosco then took up a position by the foot of the bed, eyes burning with rage at what the lamplight revealed. Murdock's face and arms were a macabre painting of purple, blue and red. Dried blood made a dark, rusty trail from his nose, down to his mouth and chin, with some streaks running as far as his collarbone. More blood matted his hair and his clothes were utterly soaked in deep red. It was nothing short of miraculous that his nose wasn't broken with the multi-shaded bruising that covered the pilot's face, and he looked different with the stubble lining his jaw, looked older and more worn. Hannibal moved to inspect Murdock's neck where Face could now make out a shadowed print, something like hands and fingers but different from any strangulation marks they'd seen before… these were upside down.

"What the hell happened here, Captain?" Hannibal muttered, but Murdock didn't respond. While Hannibal inspected Murdock's neck, Face scanned the rest of his friend's body, searching for any injuries they'd missed. Blood obscured Murdock's body from chest to feet, especially his left leg which was another bloody mess, with what appeared to be part of the fabric from his pants tied tightly around his calf. The knotted cloth was soaked through with blood, both dried and fresh, no doubt the result of carrying him out of the VA.

"Hannibal." Face drew the Colonel's attention to the wound and Hannibal frowned concernedly.

"Try and check his arms, Face. He'll be stiff from being restrained so move slowly." Face nodded and traded places with Hannibal, letting the Colonel get a closer look at the bloodstained tangle at Murdock's leg. Face sat on the edge of the bed and peered into Murdock's eyes. Still no sign of recognition but Face thought he saw the pain-dulled gaze twitch ever so slightly toward his hand as he reached for Murdock's. Hoping that meant his friend was waking up from this strange shock-sleep, Face turned his attention to the pilot's arms. Deciding to go one arm at a time, Face took Murdock's right hand and slowly pulled it downward, gradually exposing the forearm.

Murdock moved like a coiled spring, stretching but still taut and Face had no doubt that if he let go, his arm would snap back to his bloodied chest in an instant. So, Face held Murdock's hand in place and moved to one side so he could see the bruised forearm in the light. What he saw made his jaw clench tightly with anger. Tiny pinpricks dotted the surface, some surrounded by angry bruising, others had bled a little when the needle had been injected or removed and had left little lines of blood across the purpled skin.

Face just barely brushed over the spots with his thumb, smoothing the skin in an attempt to estimate how many times those freaks had injected him. The instant he did so, Murdock's head snapped up so fast Face nearly fell off the bed in surprise. When he'd regained his balance, he looked up to find Murdock staring at him. The pilot's eyes were wide, fearful… and angry. In a matter of seconds, he was a flurry of movement, lashing out with both arms and his one good leg at anyone near enough to hit. Face shouted a curse as B.A. caught Murdock's hands just inches from the lieutenant's face. Murdock twisted and jerked wildly, still not making a sound save the sharp, agonized gasps that were the result of his movement. Hannibal dodged another kick, leaping to his feet and moving to the end of the bed.

"Let him go, Sergeant!"

"What?" Bosco turned a look of disbelief on the colonel. "Fool's gonna hurt hisself even more if we don't-"

"B.A., let him go!" Hannibal's tone left no room for argument. Face watched in silent shock from where he stood, just out of Murdock's arm's reach, as Bosco released his hold and backed off to stand by Hannibal. Almost instantly, Murdock calmed, panting and pressing himself so hard against the backboard and away from the perceived threat that a couple pillows spilled over the side and onto the floor.

"Hannibal… what..." Face breathed as Murdock tried to curl his legs up to his chest but stopped with a gasp, leaving his hurt limb stretched out but pulling the other as close as he could which wasn't much with his ribs injured.

"He's afraid of us." Hannibal's voice was soft, almost hurt, and Face turned to find the colonel watching Murdock with a helpless sort of frustration.

"What do you mean he's afraid of us?" Face demanded, heart still pounding. "Boss, we just saved him! It's us for Pete's sakes! He knows us!" Face swung an arm to gesture at Murdock but stopped, angry words fading from his lips when his best friend jerked back like he'd been expecting Face to hit him.

"I don' think he does, Faceman," Bosco's voice rumbled from Hannibal's other side but Face's eyes were glued to Murdock's. The pilot's expression had changed to a look of stunned desperation. He was staring at each of them in turn with what Face could only describe as pleading mistrust. It was a strange look, and one that had Face turning to Hannibal for direction because he didn't know what it meant. How could someone look so frantic for help and at the same time be warning everyone away? Bosco spoke up before Face could, his dark eyes watching Murdock closely but more worried than threatening.

"What now, boss?"

Hannibal shook his head.

"I don't know. He doesn't recognize us, at least not yet, but his leg needs cleaning and rebandaging." The silver-haired colonel closed his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose wearily as he spoke. "We can't afford to wait for whatever drugs are in his system to wear off but we can't hold him down without risking him further." Hannibal sighed and let his hand drop to his side. "If we knew what happened in there, maybe we could help him but…" He trailed off, hand moving to rub the back of his neck.

In the brief silence, the disc he'd palmed from the surveillance room leapt back to Face's mind but just as he opened his mouth to mention it to Hannibal, the colonel's legs buckled. Both Face and B.A. leapt forward, but B.A. beat Face to it and caught Hannibal by one arm. The colonel recovered quickly but Bosco wasn't about to let him go that easily.

"See? I told you. I told you, you should get some sleep!" Bosco turned to Face. "He ain't slept more n'a few hours since you called! Damn fool!" Hannibal tried to shrug off the hand on his arm but Bosco held on fast.

"I'm fine, Sergeant," Hannibal snarled, emphasizing the rank with clipped tones that didn't phase Bosco in the least.

"No. You ain't. I been tellin' you…"

The argument continued but Face's attention was drawn from it by the sound of rustling movement. He turned to find Murdock, sitting up and leaning forward. The look in his eyes was one of such terror that it took Face a moment to realize what Murdock was staring at. He looked between Murdock's wide eyes and Hannibal's now steady form and it clicked.

"He's okay, Murdock." Face took a step toward the bed, thankful that the argument beside him had quieted at his voice. Murdock shrank away from him, sitting back but watching Face with a hopeful pain and breathing hard. "Hannibal's fine, buddy. He's just tired."

"I'm not-" Hannibal started but a growl from B.A. caused him to shake his head with a sigh. "Alright, fine. I'm tired. But I don't need you holding me up, Sergeant." The colonel pulled away and looked over at Murdock in silence for a moment before he rubbed at his eyes again and turned, saying almost apologetically, "I need to think," before slipping into the other room. B.A. shared a long-suffering look with Face before he followed and Face had no doubt Hannibal would either give in and get some rest or wake up hours later with a lump on his head. Turning back to Murdock, Face found the shadow-rimmed green eyes fixed on him with an almost tangible panic, his gaze flicking from Face to the doorway Hannibal and B.A. had passed through.

Face blew out a breath and shook his head, combing a hand through his messy hair. He honestly didn't know what Murdock was trying to tell him until he turned his back to get a chair and heard the creak of bedsprings. When he looked back, he found Murdock struggling to crawl forward, all his weight on his good leg and his arms which were still held together as if bound at the wrists. The man was pale, his arms shaking and he looked like he just wanted to hang his head and gasp for breath but he didn't. He kept those terror-stricken green eyes fixed on Face who hurriedly shoved the chair closer and raised a hand to halt the agonized progress.

"Whoa! Hey… hey, I'm not leaving. I'm just getting a chair, see?" Face sat himself down on the chair, between the two beds and diagonal from Murdock. The pilot watched him closely the whole time, but he relaxed ever so slightly when Face sat. Then began the long painful process of sitting back and Face had to grip the arms of the chair to keep from jumping up and helping because every one of the pilot's stilted movements drew sharp gasps from his battered body. Finally, when Murdock was slumped against the pillows again, Face allowed himself to relax somewhat. He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed the last remnants of dried tears from his face, then looked over at his best friend.

Murdock's eyes were squinted against the pain, every breath shuddering through him and no doubt causing that broken rib to hurt like nothing else. Still, the slitted green eyes never left the lieutenant's face. It was so hard not to get up and pull Murdock into a relieved hug. Face had never been so scared in his life as he had been just an hour or so earlier when he'd been holding Murdock and waiting for Bosco to get them out. He wanted so badly to at least put a hand on his friend's shoulder, to feel his warmth and know he was alive… to know that his nightmares hadn't and wouldn't come true. But the fear in his friend's eyes wasn't something Face ever wanted to add to.

"You know it's us, don't you?" Face asked. He kept his voice low and conversational, not wanting Bosco to think he was calling because Hannibal really did need rest and if anyone could get the old man to cooperate, it was Bosco. "It's just the team here… and you know we wouldn't hurt you, right?" Murdock's eyes widened slightly and he blinked a few times. Then, to Face's immense relief, the pilot nodded. "Great! That's- I mean…" Face's elation at receiving a response sank once more to worry as Murdock's eyes lowered to stare at his own bloody hands.

Suddenly, Murdock's breaths were coming sharp and fast and he pulled his arms back as if to rub them clean on his shirt. There was a second's pause in which Murdock ducked his head, staring at his blood-stained shirt and Face sat up straight, alarm ringing in his mind as Murdock's breathing only grew faster, this time with a sharp edge of panic on the strained gasps. Face was on his feet in an instant but too late to stop Murdock from scrambling back, trying in vain to escape the horrible stains.

"Murdo- Murdock! Look at me, man!" Face got as close as he dared, standing by the bed and leaning down to catch his friend's wild eyes. Frantic green met anxious blue and Murdock froze. "It's okay." Face forced a wry smile. "You're kind of a mess right now but we can get you cleaned up an-" Face stopped and frowned as Murdock's face fell. The pilot was breathing through his nose, his lips pressed into a thin line. Each breath shuddered on its way out and Face watched helplessly as Murdock blinked, his eyes growing more and more watery with every trembling breath. "Murdock?"

Face reached out slowly, hoping he could at least put a hand on his friend's shoulder, but the pilot jerked back with a gasp and Face was suddenly grateful there was no space between the bed and the wall on that side because Murdock would certainly have fallen off the edge if there had been. As it was, he'd pressed himself into the corner where the headboard met pale wallpaper, his left leg still stretched out across the blankets, but he was shifting inch by inch away from Face's outstretched hand. Slowly and cautiously, Face stood, raising his hands placatingly and taking a step back in hopes of calming his friend by putting a little distance between them. Murdock only bit his lip, each breath interrupted by sobs that shook his body too hard to not be agonizing. Face fought to speak clearly past the lump growing in his own throat, watching Murdock's tear-filled eyes which hadn't wavered from his face.

"Why won't you just say something, Murdock?" he asked. The question Face thought would go unanswered instead only made the situation worse, because Murdock responded with a gasp and a wide, terrified stare. Then suddenly the pilot's hands, held together as if the tie was still in place, rose and pressed against the bruised neck, fingers falling into place over the dark marks and squeezing hard enough to make the sobbing captain's face turn red. Face lunged forward, shock pushing a curse past his lips as he knelt on the bed, grabbing Murdock's wrists and trying to pull the trembling hands from his throat. Murdock was shaking his head, fighting with everything he had to keep his hands in place despite the fact that he was slowly strangling himself. Large, dark hands joined Face's on Murdock's arms and together, he and Bosco were able to pull the pilot's hands away from his neck. Right away, Murdock gasped, sucking in air raggedly only to cough it back out seconds later. After a brief pause, Face and Bosco slowly released him and he let his hands fall to his lap. Wordlessly, the two of them moved back, standing by the chair and watching their friend closely as he panted breathlessly, looking utterly exhausted.

"What the hell happened to him, Face?" Bosco's voice was low but Face could tell it was only through a great amount of self-control that the words weren't shouted. All he could do, though, was shake his head.

"I don't know. I… I asked him if… if he knew it was us and he nodded but…" he trailed off, watching Murdock lay his head against the headboard wearily, sobs and gasps finally quieted and returning to the same pain-tight breaths as before. Adrenaline was still rushing through Face's veins and he took a deep breath, willing his hands to stop shaking before he continued, "He just started to freak out. He was upset and I tried talking to him but he just…" Face left off with a gesture at their friend whose half-lidded gaze was now fixed on Bosco.

"Jus' started chokin' himself? Jus' outta the blue?" Bosco shook his head, meeting the captain's blank stare with a troubled frown.

"Yeah," Face answered, his voice sounding hoarse to his ears. He glanced at the shadowy doorway that led to the other room. "How's Hannibal?"

"He's fine. Once I got him t'lie down he was out like a light." Face nodded and his mind lighted upon the disc still waiting in his vest in the back of the van.

"B.A.…" Face waited till the dark eyes met his before he continued, "We need to know what happened in there if we're going to help him through this. Right now, anything we say or do could trigger something and…" He paused, pushing down his own helpless fear. "… and I don't know how long we've got. He has at least one broken rib and that leg could already be infected."

"What are you sayin', Faceman?" Bosco's face was unusually open and Face was suddenly struck by the fact that with Hannibal out for the time being, the position and duties of commanding officer fell to him. He took a deep breath and tried to look sure of himself because, honestly, this was their only option apart from watching Murdock waste away slowly and that was something they could never, ever do.

"I'm saying… I'm going to watch that tape." Face swallowed, the enormity of what he was proposing making him feel weak-kneed. "If… If you want, we can take it in turns. One of us stays here with him while the other…" Face trailed off as Bosco shook his head firmly.

"No." The mechanic's jaw was set and Face could see a terrible rage burning in his eyes just below the surface. "Face, seein' this," he inclined his head toward Murdock who this time watched without flinching. "Is enough t'make me wanna drive back there an' put a bullet in every one a'those guys' heads. An' I can promise you, you show me what they did… an' there won't be a force on this earth that could stop me from doin' jus' that." Face nodded wordlessly and pulled in a deep breath.

"Yeah. Yeah, I get that. I'll take the van." B.A. nodded. Face took the keys the other man offered and met the brown eyes briefly. "I'll take her to a gas station or something a couple miles out, make sure I'm seen so anyone following us is off-track." Bosco nodded and Face moved to the doorway. He felt Murdock's eyes follow him and looked back, meeting the fearful gaze for a second before turning back to B.A. "Don't… Don't leave him alone." Face knew he didn't have to worry with B.A. on guard duty but something in him had to say it anyway. Bosco gave a brief nod.

"Won't even turn my back."

Face nodded and left before the second thoughts rising in his mind could gain any ground. He had to do this. It was one duty he'd really rather leave to Hannibal but with the older man so spent, Face couldn't bring himself to wake him with a task like this. He slipped outside into the cool night air, eyes on his feet as he made his way to the van. He drove a good ways away before stopping at a gas station off the highway. He went in and bought a couple drinks, making sure to mention his 'buddies' back in the van and give the cashier, a bald, older man in suspenders, a good look at his face. If anyone put out an ABP on them, this guy could certainly answer and it'd look like they'd just skipped town.

He moved the van to a distant, near-empty lot meant for truckers before slipping into the back. Parking right outside the station would be too obvious and he didn't want the cashier to be peering through the van's windows while he did this. Face took a sip of liquid courage from one of the beers before he powered up his laptop and inserted the disc marked 'Subject 21.'