Newkirk shivered, closing his eyes as a gust of wind blew. He realized that he didn't have his topcoat…apparently; Hogan hadn't thought to bring it with them to the hospital. He had no idea how much time had passed as he walked…the trip was sometimes interrupted by bouts of lightheadedness, and he found that the minor ache in his head had started to increase again, as the morphine continued to wear off. He also found that his lower back ached dully, from the spinal tap, he knew, and a sharper pain would sometimes shoot down both his legs, especially if he stumbled. He sighed, trying to walk as fast as possible, inwardly cursing the weakness he felt and praying that he would reach Hogan before the Germans did.

Suddenly, he was there: the contact site was through the woods and at the bottom of a hill. Knowing that Hogan would stay hidden until he saw the contact arrive, Newkirk leaned on a tree to catch his breath, before whistling a birdcall that the colonel would recognize.

Hogan was hiding nearby, and when he heard the whistle, he looked around with surprise. The contact he was meeting didn't know about the birdcalls that he and the others had devised to notify each other of their presence…not to mention that it sounded exactly like Newkirk's, which he knew was impossible. The call came again, and Hogan realized that he could hear someone breathing.

Quietly, the colonel crept towards the sound, and was stunned beyond belief when he spotted Newkirk in the moonlight, slouched against a tree. Looking around to ensure that no one was around, he quickly dashed over and grabbed the Englishman's arms. "What are you doing here?!" he whispered, unable to keep the shock out of his voice.

Newkirk looked at him, blinking at the figure that had appeared so suddenly. "I 'ad ta save ya."

Hogan frowned with alarm. Newkirk was pale and obviously out of breath. He didn't look healthy at all, and Hogan realized that in his drugged state, Newkirk must have hallucinated some irrational danger and wandered off from the hospital. The implications of what could have happened to the Englishman along the way caused Hogan to mentally stagger. There was no question to the fact that he had to take care of his friend rather than meet the contact tonight, so Hogan slung one of Newkirk's arms over his shoulders and guided him away from the tree.

Newkirk said nothing for a moment, before he suddenly seemed to come back to himself. "Colonel!"

Hogan glanced at him, relieved to see coherence in his eyes. "Newkirk, you escaped from the hospital! How long have you been wandering around out here?!"

Newkirk frowned. "I 'aven't been wanderin'…I came ta prevent ya from meetin' that contact." He closed his eyes and sighed with relief at having succeeded.

Hogan frowned again. "What? Why?"

"A coupla Germans came into me room by accident, discussin' capturin' Papa Bear tonight. The doctor is with the Underground, an' 'elped me get out."

Hogan stopped walking. "Dr. Siegfried is with the Underground?"

Newkirk was glad to stop. He winced and took a deep breath, his headache increasing steadily now that the morphine was wearing off.

Hogan could see that the Englishman was declining, but he knew that they weren't far enough away from the meeting site. "I can't let you rest yet…we need to get out of here."

Newkirk nodded, before closing his eyes when the motion only increased the pain.

Hogan gripped him tighter and continued walking, not stopping until they'd reached a distance that he considered safe. He gently sat Newkirk down against a tree and crouched in front of him, concerned at how out of breath his friend was.

Newkirk closed his eyes, breathing heavily. The left side of his head was sending sharp spikes of pain through itself once again.

Hogan touched his arm. "The morphine wearing off?"

Newkirk almost nodded, but caught himself ahead of time.

The colonel sighed and looked around himself. "Wasn't there another way you could've gotten word to me?" he asked, even though he knew the answer. "You shouldn't've left the hospital…you made yourself a sitting duck out here!"

Newkirk opened his eyes. "No more than you were, guv."

Hogan had no answer for that, Newkirk was right; he'd been in just as much danger…they were both very lucky to have evaded harm. He sat beside the Englishman and let him rest for a few minutes, before eventually sliding an arm around Newkirk's back. "Come on."

Newkirk tried to stand, but didn't get very far before he gasped and fell to his knees.

Hogan grabbed onto him. "What happened?"

Newkirk winced, leaning forward to place a hand on the ground, in an effort to take the tension off his upper body. "Just 'ow big was that ruddy needle?" he asked, reaching behind himself with the other hand to carefully touch his lower back.

Hogan made a face. "Bigger than I expected it to be." He surveyed the terrain to ensure that they were still safe, before pulling Newkirk's arm around his shoulders and standing, hauling the Englishman up instead of making him stand.

Newkirk took a deep breath, trying to fight the pain that pulsed through his head.

Hogan waited until he was ready before continuing their walk, hoping that they'd make it back to the hospital in one piece.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Dr. Siegfried was beside himself. Newkirk had left an hour and a half ago, and he had no idea how far his patient needed to walk to get to Papa Bear's location. He looked out the window for the hundredth time, and gasped when he saw two figures approaching the building.

"Newkirk," Hogan said. "Which window did you climb out?"

The Englishman barely heard him through the drumming that was going on inside his head. He winced and opened his eyes, but had no idea which room was his.

Hogan opened his mouth to ask again, before he suddenly saw one of the windows open up, and a man start climbing out of it. He wore a white doctor's coat, and Hogan was relieved to see that it was Siegfried.

The doctor hurried over and took hold of Newkirk on the other side. "I vas afraid zat he vould not make it back!" he exclaimed.

Hogan nodded. "Let's get inside."

Saying no more, they made their way to the window and carefully helped Newkirk climb in, gently laying him on the bed where he predictably curled up on his side again. Hogan watched as the doctor headed towards a cabinet.

"Remove his jacket," Siegfried said.

Hogan obeyed, reaching over and gently tugging it free from Newkirk's unresisting body.

Siegfried returned with a syringe, and after pushing up one of Newkirk's sleeves, he shot the morphine into the Englishman's arm, before taking out his stethoscope.

The way Newkirk was curled up, Hogan wondered how Siegfried would manage to listen to his heartbeat, and was surprised when the doctor placed the stethoscope on Newkirk's back instead. "I do not like zee vay he is breathing," Siegfried explained.

Hogan frowned. Newkirk had been out of breath from the walk, which was perfectly normal in his condition, but as Hogan watched, he could see that the Englishman's breathing had turned shallow.

Dr. Siegfried headed towards a machine and pushed it over to the bed, before flicking a switch and picking up the attached oxygen mask.

Hogan, seeing that Newkirk's curled-up position would interfere with the doctor's treatment, reached out and took the Englishman's shoulders and gently forced him onto his back.

Siegfried placed the mask over Newkirk's face, and Hogan squeezed his friend's arms, hoping that he'd open his eyes so Hogan could scold him for leaving the hospital in his condition.

Newkirk's eyes remained closed; whether he was asleep or passed out, Hogan wasn't sure. "Who were the men who came in here?" he asked.

Siegfried shook his head and took Newkirk's arm to insert the IV again. "I do not know, I haf never seen zem before." He suddenly stopped and looked at Hogan, in shocked realization. "You are Papa Bear!"

Hogan nodded; no sense in denying it now. "Can you keep a secret?"

The doctor smiled. "I vould not be part of zee Underground if I could not."

Hogan smiled back before frowning at Newkirk. "Will he be all right?"

Siegfried nodded. "Ve know zat morphine can depress a patient's respiration, especially after zat excursion zat he vas not fit for."

Hogan nodded, sighing again. Though he was upset that Newkirk had put himself through that, he knew that the corporal hadn't just saved his life, but also the lives of every prisoner at Stalag Thirteen.

The next few minutes passed in silence, as they changed Newkirk back into pajamas and covered him with blankets.

Suddenly, another familiar birdcall split the air.

Hogan looked towards the window, having nearly forgotten that the rest of the guys were on their way to visit their friend. He walked over to the window and stuck his head out, whistling back.

A head popped up from behind a bush, and within seconds, someone was climbing through the window.

Carter nervously stared at his friend, not even sparing the doctor a glance as he slowly walked over to the bed and sat down on it. "W-what's the oxygen for?!" he blurted, once he was able to find his voice.

The doctor explained that it was a side effect of the morphine, and Carter gave a startled jump when he heard his voice, looking between him and Hogan.

"It's all right, Carter," said Hogan, helping LeBeau climb in. "He's with the Underground."

Carter was relieved to hear that. "Newkirk?" he said, hoping he was awake. He was disappointed when he received no answer, and sighed, unnerved to see his friend lying unresponsive in a hospital bed.

LeBeau and Kinch felt the same way, and stood by, quietly.

Carter suddenly reached over and shook Newkirk's shoulder, to the shock of everyone watching.

"Carter!" everyone exclaimed. It would've sounded funny, had the situation been different.

"What? I wanna talk to him! He's on morphine, right?" Carter said, pointing at the IV bag. "So he's not in pain anymore, right?"

Before anyone could answer, Newkirk stirred, and everyone automatically smiled when their friend opened his eyes.

"Hey!" Carter said. "How do you feel?"

Newkirk blinked. He could see people in the room, but the drug was once again doing what he hated so much: distorting his vision.

"Newkirk?" Carter said, with a frown.

"Oh… 'ey, Andrew," the Englishman said, tiredly. "Whatcha doin' 'ere?"

Carter smiled again. "We came to see you."

"We're all here," said LeBeau, crouching to the seated-American's level…which wasn't hard for him to do. He gave Newkirk a wave.

"How you feeling, buddy?" Kinch asked, echoing Carter's unanswered question.

"Floaty," Newkirk answered, closing his eyes again. His head lolled a little, and the movement made him aware that something was sitting on his face. He sluggishly reached up towards it, but something stopped him.

"Hey," Carter said, grabbing his arm. "You can't take that off."

"Whatzit?" Newkirk slurred.

"Oxygen," Carter said, sounding worried.

"Oh. That's good," Newkirk answered, eyes still closed. His head lolled a little more, and stayed that way.

Hogan patted Carter's shoulder when the sergeant sighed. "Don't worry," he said. "He'll be fine. Right, doc?"

Siegfried nodded. "No other symptoms have developed, so I zink zat he just needs rest."

"How long does he have to stay here?" LeBeau asked.

Siegfried shook his head. "Hard to say. At least through tomorrow, after vhat happened earlier."

Three pairs of nervous eyes swiveled towards Hogan, who knew that he had quite a story to tell them. He filled them in, and all three men were completely shocked.

"He could've gotten himself killed!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Talk about being in the right place at the right time," said Kinch, looking at Hogan. "If he hadn't been brought to the hospital—to this very room!—no one would've known about the plot against you…and you'd probably be dead right now."

Hogan nodded, looking back at Newkirk.

Carter shook his head. "He went to the contact sight and saved you...like that?" He pointed at the drugged-senseless Englishman.

Hogan nodded again.

Carter smiled. "Wow! Not even morphine can stop ol' Newkirk!"

Everyone smiled, before falling quiet for a while, watching Newkirk sleep, until Hogan sighed and looked at his watch. "We should be getting back. Roll call is only a few hours away."

Everyone nodded, though they were all reluctant to leave.

Hogan stood first and briefly touched Newkirk's shoulder, before heading towards the window and opening it.

Kinch stood next, doing the same thing and climbing out first, as Hogan stood and watched the others.

LeBeau and Carter couldn't leave without saying something to their friend, asleep or not. LeBeau patted Newkirk's arm and whispered something to him in French, before crossing to the window and climbing out.

Carter sighed and picked up his friend's hand. "Hey, Newkirk, we have to go now. If you don't come back to the Stalag tomorrow, we'll come see you again after lights-out, okay? I hope you feel better when you wake up." He waited for a minute, as if hoping that Newkirk would answer.

But the Englishman's eyes remained closed, his body immobile.

Carter sighed and stood, walking towards Hogan. He suddenly turned and looked at the doctor. "Take care of him? Uh, I know you are, I just mean…"

Siegfried smiled. "Do not vorry, young man. I vill keep him safe."

Carter gave him a relieved smile. "Thanks." He gave Hogan a pleading look as he climbed out the window.

Hogan knew how Carter felt; he didn't like leaving Newkirk alone in the German hospital overnight, either. "Do you have a way to contact the Underground, if you had to get word to us?"

The doctor nodded. "I do."

Hogan nodded back. "Okay." He went over and held out his hand. "Thanks."

Siegfried smiled and shook it. "You are velcome. I am honored to care for a member of Papa Bear's team."

Hogan smiled back, before heading to the window and taking one last look at Newkirk before climbing out.

The others weren't in sight, and Hogan dashed towards the bushes, finding them all hiding behind them.

"Do we have to go, Colonel?" Carter asked, even though the tone of his voice showed that he knew they had no choice.

Hogan nodded. He looked around before saying, "Come on."

Everyone followed, and all too soon, they were back inside their barracks.

Carter sighed as he crawled into his bed. He was acutely aware that Newkirk wasn't in the bunk above him, and it was extremely upsetting. What if some of the doctors decided to 'experiment' on the allied prisoner? What if Newkirk really did have something worse wrong with him? What if Dr. Siegfried turned out to be a plant, and told Hochstetter about their operation?

When roll call approached, Carter didn't need to be woken up…because he'd never fallen asleep.

TBC