"I don't want him anywhere near, Face. I mean it BA!" Murdock yelled.
BA walked up and put his hand across Murdock's mouth. "Shhh, Fool. You know we're not supposed to get Face excited. Now shut up!"
Murdock looked over at Face, who was still unconscious. He pulled BA's hand from his mouth. "Sorry BA. It's just—"
"I know, but you got to be quiet. Hannibal's talking to the doctors now. We'll wait for him to get back and then we'll all talk about it later, got it?"
"Got it. Shutting up now." Murdock walked back to Face's bedside, and picked up his hand. "You've got to wake up Face. I think you've had enough beauty sleep." He stroked Face's cheek.
BA and Frankie watched from the corner of the room.
XXXXXXX
"Col. Smith, I assure you, I'm nothing like my father," Dr. Ian Stockwell said earnestly.
Hannibal locked eyes with Ian. "Oh, really. And why would you say something like that to me?"
Ian swallowed. "Well, sir, I know about your arrangement with my father. About the missions and the pardons. And I know that my father's heart is made of ice. Believe me, I know that from experience."
"How do I know you didn't want Face to die? I heard you. I heard you tell Dr. Bentley here to let him go. Did you want Face to die? Did your father instruct you to kill him?" Hannibal's face was directly in front of Ian's.
Dr. Bentley stepped between them. "Hey, let's take it down a notch. Hannibal, I've worked with Ian since he was in residency. He's a good doctor. And Ian, Hannibal and the team—they've saved countless lives, risking their own in the process. It's only natural that Hannibal and the others are suspicious of you."
Ian sighed. "I know that. I'll make it easy on everyone. I won't participate in the care of Face. How's that? Will that prove to you that I'm not out to get him?"
Hannibal took out a cigar, wishing he could light up. "Oh, you won't participate in Face's care, that's a given. As for whether or not that proves you're not out to get him, hell no, that doesn't prove a thing."
Dr. Bentley placed his hand on Ian's back. "Why don't you go finish your rounds? I'll catch up with you later."
Ian put his hands in his coat pockets and turned toward Hannibal. "I wish you all the best. I really do." He turned to Dr. Bentley. "I'll see you later, Cade." He opened the door and left, pulling the door closed behind him.
Dr. Bentley stepped up to Hannibal. "He's really not a bad guy. I don't know much about his father, only that he's – how did Ian put it – a cold-hearted self-serving bastard. Ian was raised by his mother and hardly ever saw his father. As for the incident in Templeton's room – I had already shocked him twice. Ian and I have both seen what happens to patients when they're resuscitated after being 'gone' too long – brain damage, nerve damage. He was just wanting to let Templeton go to spare him all that. But I knew that Templeton's a fighter, that he wanted to come back. So I kept going. You really should give Ian a chance."
"Sorry Doc. I just can't. It's just too big of a coincidence that Stockwell's son is a doctor in the very hospital where Face is being treated after an attempt was made on his life." Hannibal turned toward the door.
Dr. Bentley looked over at Hannibal. "Maybe Stockwell knows that's what you would think."
"Maybe so."
XXXXXXX
"Hello?"
"Is it true?"
"Is what true, Ian?" Stockwell asked.
"Did you try to kill Templeton Peck?" Ian asked, his voice trembling.
"Why would I do that, Ian?" Stockwell hissed.
"I don't know, Father. Why would you do that? You told me that these men worked for you, performed missions for you. You never said that you wanted Peck dead! Is that why you've been calling me and asking about his condition? And to think I actually thought you were concerned. I should have known better." Ian's voice grew progressively louder as he spoke.
"Don't take that tone with me, Ian. I won't stand for it."
"Fine. Get your information somewhere else, Father. I wash my hands of the whole thing. I've removed myself from Peck's case."
Stockwell spoke, anger apparent in his voice. "I see. Well, that is unfortunate. I guess I could always try to persuade your partner – what is his name—oh yes, Cade Bentley. I'm sure Dr. Bentley would love to relay information to me. I have different forms of persuasion I could use."
"No, Father. Cade Bentley is a good man. Don't you touch him," said Ian.
"Am I to understand that you're back on the case?" asked Stockwell.
"Yes, I'll give you the information you want, just don't hurt Cade. But I can't work on Peck's case. There's no way Hannibal Smith is going to let me get close to him."
"You don't have to work on Peck. You just have to keep me in the loop on his condition. We must talk again soon. Son."
Stockwell hung up the phone.
Ian held the receiver to his ear, hearing the dial tone.
XXXXXX
Hannibal entered Face's room. "Frankie, stay with Face. BA and Murdock, come with me."
Frankie walked over to Face's bedside. BA and Murdock headed toward the door.
Hannibal continued. "We'll be in private family lounge. It's just three doors down on the right. We'll fill you in on everything, okay Frankie?"
"Sure, Johnny. No problem. And don't worry. I won't leave his side." Frankie pulled up the chair and sat by the bed.
XXXXXX
BA spoke first. "You did the right thing Hannibal. We can't trust him. We can't take the chance."
"Yeah," chimed in Murdock. "I don't want him to touch Face!"
"Well, Dr. Bentley seems to trust him. And I trust Dr. Bentley. But it's just not worth taking the chance with Face's life. And even if his son was one of the good guys, Stockwell could still find a way to get to him. Blackmail, threats, you name it. So we're agreed. Dr. Stockwell is to remain off Face's case." Hannibal clamped his teeth on his cigar. "Okay. It's getting late. Why don't the two of you return to the suite, get cleaned up, get some sleep, and come back in the morning. Then Frankie and I will do the same."
"I'll go back and get cleaned up and change my clothes, but I'm sleeping here. On the couch, " BA said.
"Me too," said Murdock. "We can bring you and Frankie some clothes too if you want. They've got showers here."
"Okay, that would be great." Hannibal yawned, the events of the last few days catching up with him.
XXXXXXX
Somebody was shining a light in his eyes. First the left eye. Then the right eye. And it hurt. Face clenched his eyes shut.
"Okay, I'll quit. But only if you open your eyes for me," said a voice.
Face slowly opened his eyes. He started to speak, but realized he had a tube down his throat. His eyes opened wider.
"Templeton, I'm Dr. Bentley. You're in a hospital, on a ventilator. We've been waiting for you to wake up. I'm going to have the respirator removed, and if you do as well as I think you will, then we'll leave it out, okay? Blink your eyes twice if you understand."
Face blinked once, then again.
Dr. Bentley turned to Frankie. "I'll need you to step out of the room for a bit while we remove the respirator and finish our exam. You can stand right outside the door."
Frankie looked at Face then turned to the door. He pulled the door open, then hesitated. He had told Hannibal he wouldn't leave Face's side. He turned back around. "I can't leave, Dr. Bentley. I told Hannibal I'd stay by his side, and that's what I mean to do."
Dr. Bentley smiled. "I understand. Then stand in the corner there and stay out of the way, okay?"
Frankie stood in the corner, watching Dr. Bentley and the respiratory therapist working with Face, removing the ventilator tube. He could hear voices in the hallway. He recognized Hannibal's voice and one of the nurses. He could just imagine Hannibal's reaction at being told he couldn't enter the room.
A little while later, the ventilator was out and Face was awake. Dr. Bentley spoke to Face. "Okay, son, you're doing great. I know your throat is sore, so don't try to speak. I'm going to have the nurses bring some ice chips in. Your friend here can give those to you, okay?"
Face nodded.
Dr. Bentley turned to Frankie. "We're through here for now. I'll send Hannibal in. I know he's anxious to get in here." Dr. Bentley patted Face's leg. "Get some rest."
Dr. Bentley opened the door. Hannibal rushed in, nearly knocking Dr. Bentley over. Hannibal went immediately to Face's side. Dr. Bentley followed him over. "He's breathing on his own now. I'm still worried about his wound. It reopened when we resuscitated him yesterday and we had to re-close it. It's still showing signs of infection, but he's getting antibiotics. I don't want him to get overly excited, so let's just keep things nice and calm, okay? I'm going home now. The nurses know how to reach me if you need me. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow morning. Good night, gentlemen."
Hannibal turned and shook Dr. Bentley's hand. "Thanks Doc."
Dr. Bentley just smiled and turned to leave.
Hannibal turned back to Face. "Well, so you decided to join the rest of us, huh?"
Face smiled weakly. "I..." he tried to speak, but his throat hurt.
"Don't talk now, son. There's plenty of time for that later." Hannibal said, stroking Face's hair. Face closed his eyes. A nurse brought a cup of ice chips and a spoon and handed them to Hannibal.
A soft snore came from the corner of the room, and Hannibal turned to see Frankie asleep in the chair. He turned back to Face, thankful for a moment alone with the man he loved as a son. "Face, I've got some ice chips. They'll make your throat feel better."
Face's eyes fluttered opened. He smiled. Hannibal spooned in a couple of ice chips. Face closed his eyes, savoring the coolness on his throat. "Thanks," he rasped.
Hannibal took another spoonful out and held them to Face's lips. "Here, you want some more?"
Face nodded. "Yeah, maybe a couple." His voice was a whisper. He took the ice chips and again enjoyed the coolness in his throat.
Hannibal bent closer to Face. "I know you have a lot of questions. And I promise you're going to get answers. But right now I just want you to concentrate on getting better."
"I'm cold," whispered Face.
Hannibal pulled the covers up to Face's shoulders, leaving his left arm exposed because of the IV's. Face smiled a sleepy smile and closed his eyes. He was asleep almost immediately. Hannibal sat in the bedside chair and watched Face sleep. 'He looks like a little boy, so innocent,' Hannibal thought. But Hannibal knew that innocence had been lost a long time ago, in a country far away. What would have broken most men, only made Face stronger; not that he didn't have moments of sadness. They'd had a mission in Vietnam a while back. The memories nearly did them all in. And they'd dealt with General Chao, the sadistic bastard who ran the prison camp. Face had kept up his happy facade during the mission, only to break down and drown his sorrows at a seedy bar when the mission was over. And the nightmares. They didn't happen every night, but they happened more often than not. Hannibal had talked to him about the nightmares once, asked him if he wanted to see Dr. Richter. Face had just looked at him incredulously and said, "Some things you're not meant to forget, Hannibal."
Face's breathing had become deeper, more even. Hannibal knew he was in a deep sleep. He placed a hand on Face's chest, taking comfort in the rise and fall of each breath. He put his head in the crook of his other arm and closed his eyes, allowing sleep to overtake him.
XXXXXX
The phone rang, waking Ellen from her sleep. She heard Stockwell's voice in the other room. A minute passed. Ellen rubbed her eyes, then looked up to see Stockwell standing in the doorway.
"It's time, Ellen. Baracas and Murdock are back at the suite. Santana and Smith are sleeping. Hurry up and get over there. And make sure you do it right this time."
XXXXXX
Face could feel the weight of Hannibal's hand on his chest. Hannibal was sitting a chair, hunched over Face's bed sleeping. 'His back is going to be killing him in the morning,' thought Face. Across the room, he could see Frankie sleeping in another chair, his legs stretched out in from of him.
Face couldn't decide which hurt worse, his throat or his chest. All he knew was that he was in pain and he was hot. He clenched his jaw and squinted his eyes shut, trying to ride out a spasm that seemed to grip his whole body, making him jerk in response to the pain.
Hannibal flinched, and slowly lifted up his head. He stood next to Face, and placed his hand on his forehead. "My God, Face, you're burning up." Hannibal turned to Frankie. "Frankie, wake up. Frankie!"
Frankie rubbed his eyes and stood. "Sorry, Hannibal….I must have dozed—"
"There's no time for that. Go to the nurses' station and tell them that Face has a fever. Go now!"
Frankie glanced at Face, then ran out the door.
Face whispered, "Hannibal, I'm okay. You're just overreacting. I'm sure it's nothing."
"I'm sure you're right Face, but I don't want to take any chances, so you'll just have to humor me." Hannibal said, pasting a smile on his face.
The nurse came in the room, followed by Frankie. She took Face's temperature and monitored his blood pressure, pulse, and respirations. "Mr. Smith, your fever is 103.2. I'm going to page Dr. Bentley and let him know. For now, let's put some cool cloths on your forehead, that will help. I'll also get you something for the pain."
Frankie told the nurse, "If you get the cloths for me, then my friend and I can take care of cooling him down."
"Follow me," she said. She and Frankie walked out of the room.
Hannibal looked at Face. Face had closed his eyes, but his jaw was still clenched and his brows knitted together in pain. His breathing was shallow and ragged. 'How much more are you supposed to take?' thought Hannibal. 'All this pain, the suffering, now the fever.' He stroked Face's hot cheek.
Frankie came back to the room, a basin of ice water and some small towels in his hands. He soaked one in the ice the water, squeezed the excess water out, and then placed it across Face's forehead. "How's that, Face? Does it feel better?"
Face smiled a weak half-smile and whispered, "Yeah, Frankie. Thanks." He grimaced as another spasm of pain hit.
Hannibal held Face's hand. "Just hang in there, Face." He turned to Frankie, "I thought she was going to get something for his pain."
"She was calling Dr. Bentley when I left the nurses' station. She'll be here, Johnny. She'll be here." Frankie said.
"I'm sorry, Frank. I just hate seeing him suffer like this. It's just not fair." Hannibal replied, frustration evident in his voice.
The nurse entered the room carrying a tray with syringes. She placed the tray on the foot of the bed, and picked up the syringes so that Hannibal could see them. "Dr. Bentley has ordered some prescription strength ibuprofen. That should help with the pain and the fever. He said that Mr. Smith can't have anything stronger than that right now because of the respiratory distress he suffered when he was admitted. I'm also giving him a shot of penicillin for the infection in his surgical wound. Dr. Bentley said that I should show you the syringes before I injected them into the IV line."
Hannibal looked at the tray. He knew nothing about medicine, but appreciated what Dr. Bentley was trying to do. He nodded his head. "Thanks. You can inject them now."
The nurse took the syringes and injected them into Face's IV line. "Call if you need anything else or if his symptoms change." She left the room.
Frankie removed the cloth from Face's head and dipped it in the ice water again. He squeezed out the excess water then folded the cloth and returned it to Face's forehead.
"Hannibal," Face whispered.
Hannibal bent down close to Face so he could hear him better. "Yeah, Face?"
"I want to go home."
"I know you do, Face, but you've got to get well first." Hannibal wiped away a trail of water than had traveled down Face's cheek from the wet cloth.
"'m sleepy."
"Go to sleep, Face. I'll be right here. Just to go sleep." Hannibal stroked Face's hair, careful not to displace the cool cloth. Face closed his eyes. His cheeks were red, flushed like a baby's in sleep.
They stayed that way for an hour. Frankie on one side, dutifully changing out the cool cloths. Hannibal on the other side, stroking Face's hair or his cheek, holding his hand. Face slept in a fitful sleep, an occasional raspy moan escaping his lips.
Face began to become more restless, rocking his head back and forth, squirming under the covers. "No, God, no." He pulled clutched his side. His eyes few open, glassy and unfocused. He tried to sit up.
Hannibal pushed Face back down onto the bed. "Face, you've got to be still."
Face tried to free himself from Hannibal's grip. The dressing covering his wound was slowly turning red. "No! Not again. Please, not again!" he rasped.
Hannibal yelled to Frankie, "Go get the nurse. I think his fever has gotten higher! Hurry!"
Frankie ran to the door.
XXXXXXX
Ellen stood outside Face's room. She cracked the door slightly and peeked inside. She could see Hannibal and Frankie hovering over Face. 'Damn it,' she thought. 'They're both awake. NOW what am I supposed to do?'
Suddenly the door to Face's room opened.
TBC