One Hour Later

Though Trivette wanted to be there for Walker when he got out of surgery, Carter advised him that the FBI had something he needed to see right away. He followed the young agent down the short hallway wondering what was so important. After they reached a small room Carter closed the door and sat down at a small table.

"I think you need to see these." He took a deep breath and slid a thick, manila folder, the kind usually found at medical buildings towards Trivette. "It's Walker's medical history." He slid a three ring binder across the table then leaned backwards. "That is all of Walker's fights and let me tell you, there are some brutal ones."

Trivette took a deep breath before he flipped open the manila folder. The first thing he saw was a series of pictures showing Walker through the months. It sickened Trivette to see how much his friend had actually wasted away while being a hostage. How could anybody do this to another human being?

He briefly flipped through the pages surprised to see how well Walker's medical history was documented. In fact a psychological test was performed a few months back and the findings explained Walker's strange behavior. According to a doctor at the compound Walker suffers from severe depression which got worse a month ago. What happened to cause his friend to fall apart so quickly?

Carter shook his head as he tapped the binder. "We need to ask Walker about some of the fights." He flipped the book open to a page with several pictures of a fight and a DVD insert. "Apparently your friend killed a man."

"That might explain the nightmares." Trivette went through the medical folder till he found something of interest and disturbing. "Walker was whipped ten times then forced to fight." His whole body shook as anger rose inside of him. "That was when he lost all vision in his eye and suffered some muscle damage in his back…." He stood up. "I gotta talk to Walker."

Montana

The hospital room was a bit chilly as Gage walked in to see Walker after his eye surgery. This was his first time seeing his friend since that day in the ring and Gage's nerves made him jittery. He took a deep breath, sat down by the bed then glanced up at Walker's face. A thick, white bandage was wrapped diagonally across Walker's nose and around his forehead holding a metal covering over his eye. Unfortunately the gauze just showed how much weight Walker really lost while a hostage. Gage could definitely see the Cherokee in his friend, especially now since Walker's cheekbone structure was easily visible.

Walker rolled his head and a smile spread across his face. "Gage, so glad to see you." He used his hands to speak showing Gage how natural it was for him to use sign.

Gage's eyes glanced at Walker's right arm then at his own. "How you doing?"

"Doing all right." He took a deep breath as his eyes wavered from Gage's. "When did you arrive home?"

"Four months ago along with all the other fighters in my room. The only guy that didn't come back was Zadok." A smile spread across Gage's face. "Apparently he lived with ya in the same cabin." He shook his head. "How was life at the new compound?"

"Better than the last one, though it did have it's downsides." Walker's hands flew with ease and Gage found himself getting lost a few times. "There was more freedom, but it came at a price." Walker suddenly stopped, his hands fell onto his lap and he shook his head. "How did you get out?" This time when Walker spoke, his movements were much slower.

Gage could tell just by Walker's hands that he was trying to hide something. "What's the matter, Walker?"

Walker quickly shook his head. "Nothing."

Gage decided to ignore his friends attitude to answer his question. "Not sure really how I managed to get out." He took another look at his arm. "I woke up in a motel room confused and wearing only boxers. And I had this," He showed his arm to Walker. "Wish I could remove it."

A look of confusion crossed Walker's face. "Why can't we remove the tattoo?"

Gage took a look around, paranoid about being watched. "Walker, they've killed fighters that have taken off the tattoo. They're still watching us." He noticed Walker's demeanor quickly change at that sentence. "What's the matter?"

"What do you think of agent Carter?" Asked Walker.

"He's a great guy. Heck, I even let him baby-sit my kids."

Gage took a deep breath wondering if he should tell Walker about the other fighters. How will his friend take to the news? So far, according to Carter, Walker's mental state was a bit unstable. Wonder why that was? Should he ask or keep acting like nothing is wrong?

He took a deep breath then laced his hands. "Walker, I have something to tell you."

XXXX

Even though her father was finally back with them, Angela still felt a lot sadness. She thought things would be better and in fact it has been the complete opposite. Wonder what had happened to her father to make him change so much? Will he ever return to normal? Maybe things will change once they get back to Texas.

She took a deep breath then picked up a teddy bear holding a rose. After a few seconds she finally put it back down and instead chose a small, stuffed wolf. Wonder if her father will like it or maybe it's too childish? She was about to put it down when uncle Trivette walked up to her.

He handed her a ten dollar bill with a big smile on his face. "He will really like that."

Angela graciously took the money from her uncle and went to the register. "Have you seen my dad since his surgery?"

Trivette shook his head. "Nah, Gage is with him right now." He took a deep breath then patted Angela's shoulder. "Want to go up there and see him?"

"Sure." Angela paid for the stuffed animal then followed Trivette out of the gift shop. "Uncle Trivette, what is wrong with my father?"

Trivette stopped walking to look at Angela. "What do you mean, Angie?"

"I don't know, something just isn't right." Angela's voice was real low as she spoke. "I see him smiling at me, but his good eye, there's just no happiness there." She took a deep breath before she sat down in a chair. "I don't like talking to him through the tablet."

"Unfortunately I think that will be the only way he can communicate for awhile." Trivette took a deep breath as he sat down next to Angela. "You're dad has been through a lot and right now he really needs you to be there for him." He leaned back into the chair to give Angela's shoulder a good pat. "Remember, he will always love you."

Angela shrugged. "I guess." She stood back up, went to the elevator then turned back to her uncle. "Will he be all right?"

"Of course, it's your father, Angie. He always bounces back."

"I hope you're right." She stepped off the elevator to see Uncle Gage talking to her mother, his voice showing frustration. "Mom, Uncle Gage is everything all right?"

Gage slowly shook his head. "No, I said something to your father that upset him." He took a deep breath as he turned to look at Angela's mother. "I'm sorry, Alex…." He chewed on his lower lip before walking past Angela and Trivette.

Angela went past her mom, but didn't get very far when a hand suddenly grabbed her arm. "Angie, your father needs some time alone…." It was her mother and her voice showed her own worry.

"Mom, I need to see him." Angela pulled her arm away, furious that she couldn't see her own father. "I'll be okay, don't worry about me."

However, as Angela put her hand on the door her nerves got the best of her and she couldn't go in. Who will she see inside the room? Will she see her father or a completely different man? Well, there is only one way to find out.

She took a deep breath, pushed open the door then took a tentative step forward. "Dad?" When she didn't hear anything she looked at the bed to see him smiling at her. "Dad, so glad to see you smiling again." He gave her a nod and waved her to come forward. Once she was by his side he began to write on the tablet. "Are you okay?" She asked him.

"You've matured so much since I last saw you." He wrote and Angela could see the tears forming in his good eye. "You're not my little girl anymore."

"I will always be your little girl, dad." Angela sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh, her eyes drifting towards the IV bag hanging by her head. "How's the pain?"

Her father nodded. "Doing all right, nothing I can't handle." He cleared the screen on the tablet then wrote something else down. "Sweetie, what's wrong?"

Angela took a deep breath knowing she needed to ask her father a few questions. "Dad, why is everybody worried about you? What's wrong?" Her eyes noticed straps hidden underneath the sheets and knew they were used to hold her father's arms down while he slept. "Why do you get mad?"

"I just have some nightmares, that's all." His handwriting was getting a bit sloppier and Angela could see his eye drooping. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I need to sleep."

As her father fought to stay awake, Angela leaned down to kiss him on the forehead. "Try to relax today, dad. Nothing will happen to you."

Two Hours Later

The small room was a bit dark thanks to a burned out fluorescent bulb and Walker, still groggy from the sedative thought it was rather depressing. He nervously shifted around in his chair, ignoring the pain that it brought in his leg. Though he was happy to finally be out of the hospital room he was angry that he had to have a psychological examination.

Walker gently shook his head as another wave of drowsiness washed over him. Why did the doctors always have to drug him? Is it because he called out Agent Carter as a traitor? Why did everybody believe Carter and not him? How did that man manipulate his friends so easily?

"Mr. Walker, so nice to see you." A man wearing a dress shirt and khakis came into the room with a large folder in his hands. "My name is Doctor Castaneda." He went to a tripod, turned on the camera then sat down across from Walker. "Okay, I will be asking a series of simple questions. Answer them as accurately and honestly as you can." He took out a yellow legal pad, placed it front of Walker then gave him a pen. "You can write all your answers on there."

"How long will this take?" Wrote Walker.

"All depends on you." Castaneda opened his folder and took out a piece of paper. "How you feeling right now?" Walker gave the man a shrug of his shoulders. "How was your experience at each of the compounds?" Walker scribbled down his answer then showed Castaneda. "I see, so it was relatively quiet. Did they ever torture you?"

Walker's mind instantly went back to that winter day when he was punished by two guards. He nibbled on his bottom lip as his good eye wavered to the table. His back still hurt him, especially when he moved the wrong way. Wonder when he'll be able to tell his family about what had happened?

"Mr. Walker, are you all right?" Castaneda asked.

"Yeah, and yes they did torture me." Walker wrote down. "Mentally and physically."

Castaneda opened the folder, wrote something down then took a deep breath. "What were some of the rules at the last compound?"

Walker tapped the pen against the notebook wondering if he can trust this man. "There were simple rules, but they kept the men in check." And after those words he began to write out the simple guidelines that all fighters had to live by.

After just five minutes he had all the rules written down for Castaneda who then studied them intently. "So you pretty much had free reign?" Walker nodded. "Interesting." He opened his folder, took out several pictures then displayed them in front of Walker. "Do you know these men?"

"Yeah, I do." Walker took a deep breath, frustrated that he had to use paper to communicate. "They were guards at the ranch." He tapped a morgue photo of Doctor Boyd, angered that he was killed. "How did he die?"

"I can't say…."

"He didn't do anything!" Scribbled Walker. "He was a doctor!"

Walker's good eye went to the other photos and he picked one up to study it more closely. The man in the photo had been shot in the forehead distorting his appearance and it took him several minutes to realize it was Hound. He threw the photo down furious that so many good people were killed during the riot.

"What happened? Why were the other fighters and these men killed?" When Castaneda didn't answer right away Walker attempted to get up, but was stopped by the pain in his leg. "If you're not going to answer me…." The door opened and in walked two FBI agents. "What's going on here!" Wrote Walker, his handwriting sloppier than usual. When one of the agents, a small man with a slight build reached out for him, Walker ignored the pain and quickly stood up. "Leave me alone!" He signed.

Castaneda raised his hand then took a deep breath. "Bring in Winters." He went over to Walker's side and waved for him to sit back down. "I'll be back in twenty minutes."

Walker gingerly sat back down wishing he could be with his wife and daughter. He looked at the photos once again then turned them upside down. Though he was grateful to be alive a part of him wished he wasn't. How did he survive when others did not? What had happened when he and Zadok left the cabin? Why didn't Hound come with them?

He took a deep breath as his mind went to the man who he feared and respected. In the last few months he had grown dangerously close to Hound, a man who he should have despised but didn't. Why did he start to trust Hound? What had made Hound so different then the other guards?

The door to the room opened and the familiar sound of shackles could be heard. Walker turned to see Miguel walking in with FBI agents by his side.

A smile spread across Miguel's face as he shuffled forward. "Glad to see you're doing well." He was pushed into the chair vacated by Castaneda and one of the agents secured his ankle to the table by a chain. "How are you?"

"Doing good." Walker shook his head. "Are they treating you all right?" He signed knowing Miguel can understand him.

"I agreed to talk so I'm doing good." He reached out for the pictures, but was stopped by one of the agents. "William and Hunter were killed, Conner is in ICU."

Walker shook his head. "The raid was a failure." His hands moved slow as his mind thought about the other fighters, men who were tattooed and forced to fight. "Thank you."

Miguel took a deep breath then nodded his head. "You're a good man, 0535. Just wish I could have done something sooner." He shifted his weight as his eyes drifted to the folder before him. "I'm sorry." He slowly nodded at the FBI agent next to him. "Just remember your family and be thankful you're alive."

"How can I be thankful when so many died?" Signed Walker.

"You'll figure that out." An agent unhooked Miguel's leg from the table and helped him to stand. "I'll see ya in court."