Chapter Warnings: Mentions of gore/trauma, mentions of hallucinations, clear suicidal thoughts/feelings, minor cursing, *Brass Knuckle Gut Punch(es) incoming*
"Your face it haunts, my once pleasant dreams. Your voice it chased away, all the sanity in me…." My Immortal (Evanescence, but I used the Boyce Avenue cover for the male voice. Suits Murdock better)
Face was woken from a troubled sleep by a gentle hand shaking him. He sat up quickly, brushing the sleep from his eyes and felt his heart kick into high-gear at the sound of someone shouting Hannibal's name in the other room. It might've been Murdock but the voice was so terrified and broken, Face couldn't tell.
"Mother said to get you as soon as your friend woke up," the sister started, stepping back and following Face as he got up quickly and moved to the door. "He was just waking when I left! I don't know what's wrong!" He heard Bosco moving behind them and was momentarily thankful that he wouldn't have to go back to wake the other man… but then his heart dropped to his shoes because when he stepped in and switched on the light, he was met with a sight that scared him more than Murdock's physical injuries.
Hannibal was on his feet, rushing to Murdock's side and looking like he'd only just woken up, his blanket half on the floor from his hasty movement. Murdock was pressed into the corner at the head of the bed. It wasn't that fact, though, that spurred Face forward…. It was Murdock's tear-streaked face, his fingers twisted in his clean but wild hair, and the violent swing that brought his head against the wall again and again and again.
With a curse, Face rushed forward, scrambling across the bed to put his hand between Murdock's head and the wall just as Hannibal caught the captain's arm. Murdock's head struck Face's hand hard and he did his best not to grimace at the force of it. Murdock stopped only inches from hitting Face's fingers again, the sudden contact made by the colonel's hand causing his eyes to snap open. Startled green eyes leapt from Hannibal to Face before closing again as Murdock turned, pulling away from Hannibal and shrinking back as far as he could. Hannibal voiced Face's thoughts with a stunned whisper of "What the hell….?" Face just sat there for a minute, getting his racing heart to calm slightly, flexing his bruised hand gingerly as he took in his best friend's appearance.
Murdock looked better than before, physically at least. He was clean and wearing a white tee and plain blue sweatpants. The sisters had even taken the time to shave the stubble from his chin and cheeks which had the unfortunate effect of making him look younger and more gaunt. His arm was bandaged where the IVs and injections had left the skin pockmarked and bleeding and Face didn't see any blood on his head either, which was a minor miracle with the force Murdock had put behind the blows. But physical injuries weren't the problem right now. Murdock was sobbing, rocking softly and muttering something past his tears. Something like, "I need…" over and over. Slowly and cautiously, Face settled himself down so he was sitting on the bed, facing Murdock. He looked over at Hannibal who was watching him, eyes alight with distress, waiting for him to make the next move.
"Murdock?" Face called gently. Murdock stiffened and his breaths quickened, his hands fisted so tightly in his hair that his knuckles were white. "Murdock, what's wrong? What do you need?" Face didn't expect him to answer. He wasn't really sure what he expected, but Murdock spoke, his voice hoarse and choked with tears.
"I n-need t'w-wake up."
"You are awake. You're awake right now, man."
The only response was a moaned, "No."
Face thought for a moment before asking, "How can I prove it to you?" This only earned him more tears and a trembling shake of Murdock's head. "Okay, okay… um…" Face wracked his mind for something he could say that would pull Murdock out of this. Sometimes when he was seeing things or hearing voices it just took time, keeping him talking and in the present long enough for his mind to catch up. Deciding to stall for now, Face asked the first question that came to him. "Why do you need to wake up?"
Murdock's watery green eyes opened, and he turned to Face with an expression of such devastated pain that it hurt Face just to see it. It was like looking into a shattered mirror, the reflection somehow darker and hazier because of the fractured pieces. He looked at Face through the windows of a broken soul and the pieces of his heart Face had been able to repair after watching Brenner's recording broke at the words.
"I w-want t-… to die."
"Wh-What?" Face gasped. He heard Hannibal let out a shocked curse but was too focused on the soul-shattered look in his friend's eyes to do anything more than stare, a pained frown creasing his brow. Murdock had never been suicidal as long as Face had known him, not even in his darkest moments. He loved flying, loved life too much to consider killing himself or seeking out death. Face couldn't understand why Murdock would want to die now. It might make sense if the guy was still captured and alone with that psychopathic killer, Brenner, but not now when they were safe and all together again. Murdock's eyes hadn't left his and Face struggled to find words past the emotion choking his voice.
"Murdock… why?"
Fresh tears filled the green eyes and the despair in their depths changed to a heart-broken longing. His gaze lowered, hands slipping from his hair to curl against his chest like he was holding something, thumbs rubbing up and down across nothing. Murdock's next words were only just above a whisper and were said with such a miserable pain that the captain's voice was reduced to a childlike whimper.
"I m-m'ss you…."
"We missed you too, buddy… but we're here now. Why do you want to go?"
More sobs shook Murdock's body as he managed to choke out the words, "I w-want t'g-go home." Face swallowed the lump growing in his throat and shifted closer, reaching one hand cautiously toward his friend.
"You're safe here, man. And we're all here with you. Come on, tell us what's wrong so we can help you." At the sight of Face's hand coming closer to him, Murdock jerked back, eyes wide.
"Y-You can't t-touch me! Pl-lease, don' touch me!"
"Why not?" Face asked, growing frustrated with Murdock's refusal of help. It was hard enough to watch his friend go through something like this. Being restricted to just watching was torture. Murdock's fingers slipped back to his hair, tugging at the brown locks and causing more tears to slip from his misery-bright eyes.
"Bec-cause I want you t's-stay!"
"We're staying. We're not going anywhere, okay? Come on…." Face reached for Murdock's hands, meaning to pull them from the wild tufts of brown, but Murdock flinched away again, this time with a terrified whimper that dropped Face's hands back to his lap. The lieutenant turned to Hannibal who stood a step or so away with B.A. beside him. Both were watching with tangible concern but Bosco spoke first, keeping his voice soft despite the tension that was obvious in his clenched fists.
"Why would you want to die, man?" The pilot didn't look up, just stared unseeingly at the bed, blinking away sorrow that ran down his cheeks and sniffling, shaking his head with a frown.
"I d… I don't kn-know. I'm tired… I'm s-so, so tired."
"Then rest," Face begged. "Just lay down and get some sleep. We'll be right here the whole time, I promise." But Murdock was already shaking his head, breaths increasing in speed and eyes fixed on Face.
"I can't! I can't. If I sl-sleep, y-you'll be gone again."
"I won't go anywhere. I swear."
"You will," Murdock sobbed. "Th-They'll take you."
"Who?"
"Th-The Gargoyles will take y-you an' they won't keep them aw-away!" As he spoke, Murdock's voice grew more and more frantic. "They'll come an' they- they'll s-scratch an' bite an' te-tear you apart! Th-They'll eat you an' I can-can't stop them! Y-You'll be gone and they'll l-laugh and laugh and laugh!" The last few words were spoken with breathless chuckles interspersed and Murdock's hands moved to his ears again, not covering them but hovering there by his head and shaking.
"Murdock. Murdock!" Face moved closer and Murdock looked up, manic laughter fading. "I'm not going anywhere, okay? No one's going to hurt us. Look…" Face tried to explain, uncomfortably aware that his words wouldn't make any sense to the rest of the team. "It… it wasn't real, Murdock. Those people Brenner brought in… it wasn't us. We're right here. We got you out and now you have to let us help." Murdock just closed his eyes, shaking his head miserably. Face ran a hand through his own disheveled hair, frustration rising. "Why won't you let us help you?
"B'cause I want t'stay…" He sniffed, swallowing thickly. "I w-wanted t'go home… but I can't." The tears that had ebbed somewhat returned, shaking Murdock's body cruelly and causing him to wrap an arm around his ribs as he wept, his voice growing more and more distraught as he continued. His free hand moved to his head, first thumping against his temple with every forward and backward rock. "Home's d-dead an' it's all m-my fault! Es mi c-culpa… Es is-ist meine Störung… Mea culpa, mea culpa…."
Face could only look on speechlessly as Murdock's words dissolved into shuddering grief. He was thankful for Hannibal stepping forward then because he wasn't sure if he'd be able to speak past the tears that pushed at the growing lump in his throat.
"Murdock." Hannibal waited until the captain's eyes met his, watery and anguished, but focused. "Nothing that happened in there was in any way your fault." Murdock's gaze drifted back to the bed, his hands returning to his chest and the invisible something he held there, breaths hitching in his throat. Face watched the pilot's fingers curl and it hit him like a bullet to the gut. Hannibal's hand. Murdock had been holding that fake Hannibal's hand the exact same way. Murdock's soft voice was enough to cover Face's whispered curse but not enough to banish the ache in the lieutenant's heart.
"Bosco an' Face an' Hannibal…"
"We're here, son." The colonel said softly.
"Y-You're d-dead…"
"No, we're not." Face kept his voice firm, if he did anything else, he wouldn't be able to speak. "It was a trick, Murdock. Those three guys were actors, just decoys Brenner brought in to mess with you." Face knew Hannibal would want the full story after hearing all this but right now he didn't care. Murdock was frowning at him through his tears, confusion etched across his gaunt features. "We're right here, man." Face tried reaching out again and this time when Murdock pulled back, he let his heart have its way. With a murmured, "Come here," he pulled Murdock into a tight hug. The pilot stiffened, letting out a sharp cry. He tried to twist free but Face wouldn't let him, he just held on as tightly as he dared with his friend so hurt.
When escape proved impossible, the battered body began to rock in his arms, soft keening whimpers reaching Face's ears. Face moved with him, keeping his grip tight until the rocking stilled and Murdock's hands came up to clutch at Face's shirt with the same desperate pain Face had felt when he'd clung to Murdock's hand back in his room at the VA. Hot tears soaked into Face's shirt at his shoulder and he found himself returning to those all too familiar phrases.
"Hey… hey, it's okay, buddy…. I got you…. We're right here." Murdock didn't seem to hear him, but Face kept murmuring softly to him, unable to come up with any other plan when his every thought was occupied with shock and fear for his friend.
The immense comfort of being able to make physical contact at last was dampened by the details Face was noticing now Murdock was so close. He could feel his friend shaking, not just from tears but from what Face could only assume was pain. Hunched over as he was to hide himself in Face's shoulder, the combined pain of his broken rib and various other bruises had to be excruciating by now. With his hands rubbing gently up and down his friend's back, Face could also feel two or three lumps beneath the plain t-shirt, swollen welts, no doubt left by the guards' boots or fists or the combined blows from each.
The pilot's shaking hands hadn't loosened their hold on his tee but the way Murdock was pressing closer reminded Face horribly of how the grieving man had done the same with the decoy Face back in that freakish hospital. He tightened his hold as much as he dared, bringing one hand up to Murdock's head, thumb stroking gently through his messy hair, to be sure his friend knew that this time was different.
After a few long minutes of holding the pilot and feeling Hannibal and Bosco watching them, Face heard Murdock's voice again, this time high and pleading and heartbreaking all at once.
"Wh-Why are you doing this?" Murdock pulled back, his face flushed and tears visible on his cheeks, looking up at Face with a strange mix of emotions shining in his eyes. The sob-stilted voice lowered to a whisper, like he was thinking aloud, and the green eyes narrowed in confusion. "You sh-shouldn't look like him… like my br-brother…" His words were accusing and barely audible but more than loud enough to make the ache in Face's chest double in strength.
"What?" He stared searchingly into Murdock's eyes but the pilot only frowned softly, gaze dropping to his hands, something between anger and a resigned pain in his voice.
"Damn you, Diablo…" Murdock's hand, still fisted in Face's shirt, pushed weakly against his chest, trying to break away from the embrace. Face held on, scared by how easy it was to overcome the pilot's dwindling strength and keep Murdock in his arms.
"No. Murdock, no, it's me. It's Face…. It's really me, buddy." Murdock looked at him for a few long seconds before the misery tugging at the corners of his mouth and glistening in his eyes became too much. He let himself tip forward again and pressed his head into Face's shoulder, crying so hard he could barely breathe. Face turned away from Hannibal and B.A., leaning his cheek on Murdock's tousled hair and taking in deep steadying breaths that shuddered on their way out, drawing wet lines of tears across his own cheeks didn't do anything to lessen the lump in his throat. Murdock said something between gasping tears but the words were lost against Face's chest.
"What's that, pal?"
Murdock pulled back, just a little, just enough to speak, his head down, hands still grasping urgently at Face's shirt.
"K-Kill m-me."
Face felt his throat and chest tighten in sudden horror, causing his voice to come out strangled and hoarse.
"What?" He looked down at the man in his arms but Murdock didn't look up. He just pulled himself closer to Face's chest and whimpered inconsolably between sobs.
"Pl-leas-se jus' let m-me die." Face tightened his hold, ducking his head to hide his own tears in Murdock's shoulder.
"No."
"Please…" Murdock's hands trembled in time with the desperate strain in his voice. "I w-want t'go w-with th'm."
"No, Murdock. We're right here, I swear."
"I want t'g-go home…" Murdock's words were muffled and pitiful, like a child crying their heart out into their mother's arms. Face felt Hannibal draw closer, his arm heavy, but comforting across his lieutenant's shoulders. Bosco rested a hand on Murdock's back, but even surrounded by the team, by family and love, Murdock didn't seem to accept that they were there. Face was thankful for the warmth and strength Hannibal's arm provided but the contact made him wish he could contain the shuddering that ran through his own body as he wept into his friend's shoulder.
A fear had taken hold in Face's heart, a cold and aching fear that nothing they did could ever heal such a terrible wound as the one Murdock was suffering. If he was so very, very broken that he would beg for death… what could they do? What if Murdock never got better? What if he was stuck like this forever, mourning and tormented in a nightmare without end? They could stay with him, nurse him back to health, try to keep at least one of them with him at all times, but eventually they'd have to move on to avoid being caught again. Eventually, they'd have to send Murdock to a new, trustworthy hospital because they didn't have access to the meds he needed. The thought of his friend locked up in a room to hate himself and grieve was unthinkable to Face but if that did happen, they could still visit him. They could still be there for him, sometimes, and maybe he'd start to believe them.
Or he wouldn't and they'd step into his room one day to find him dead, covered in blood with his wrists slit and the tears still visible on his cheeks. The thought made Face's stomach roil sickly and he clutched his friend's shaking form to himself, willing Murdock to believe them as Hannibal's free hand moved to the pilot's wild hair, fingers carding gently through the sweat-dampened locks in an attempt at comfort. At the touch, Murdock's tears only increased, his sobs becoming broken cries barely quieted by being loosed into Face's chest.
The pilot's hands pulled at Face's shirt as if he could drag himself back to reality with it. Face didn't move, didn't let go or weaken his hold, not even when Hannibal moved to the door, muttering something to the sister who had, thankfully, waited outside after waking the team. Hannibal came back, putting an arm around Face's shoulders and a hand on his pilot's head as Sister brought in a syringe.
Murdock didn't react when she injected him and Face didn't have to ask what it was to recognize the effects of a sedative. The pilot slowly relaxed, sobs fading to shuddering, even breaths and his hands gradually releasing their hold. For a few minutes, the team stayed there, ignoring the soft sniffles of their youngest members and just holding and comforting until they were sure Murdock was asleep again. Hannibal moved first, standing and calling Face's name softly. The younger man looked up, too shocked and hurting to care that his eyes were probably red and the tears still visible on his cheeks. Hannibal looked down at him, eyes bright and voice rough.
"I'm going to ask the sisters if they have anything to flush the drugs out of his system. We need to be able to talk to him without their effects fighting against us."
"Hannibal…" Face adjusted his grip on Murdock as the pilot grew heavy and limp with sleep. "It's not… It's not just the drugs." Hannibal held up a hand to stop him.
"I know. That's why I want you and Bosco to stay here. Stay with him and whatever you do, don't let him pull away again. He needs to know we're here and physical contact will help that more than anything right now."
"Where you goin', boss?" B.A. asked, one big hand still resting on Murdock's back, heavy palm moving up and down, rubbing gentle lines of comfort between where Face's arms held the pilot close.
"I'm going to watch the tape."
"What? Hannibal, you don't have t-" Face felt alarm rise in his mind and moved to get up, looking to Bosco to take Murdock, but Hannibal stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.
"Yes, I do, Face. There are things I know to look for in torture that you could never have thought of. Any one of those could be the key to convincing Murdock that we're real." Face could tell the colonel understood his lieutenant's wish to spare him the horror of what was on that tape, but he was right. There could be any number of things Face had missed and, Face thought with a bitter sinking of his heart, nothing he'd done had helped yet. Hannibal continued, voice gentle and somehow reassuring despite the hopelessness of their situation. "I need to know what he's been through, Face, or I can't help him. And I need you to stay here with him, alright?"
Face nodded and hefted Murdock's slumping form back against his shoulder. Hannibal left after a brief word with one of the sisters at the door and Face stayed put. He slept off and on, waking when Bosco moved Murdock's arm to let Sister Angelica, a brusque but gentle soul, set up the IV that would hopefully rid him of Brenner's awful drug. They'd slept something like this before, in the army. When you're in the field, you sleep wherever and whenever you can and sometimes that meant sitting back to back to catch a couple minutes. It was different and a little strange to try to rest with his head tilted forward instead of back, resting on Murdock's shoulder, but he'd rather be here now and endure the ache in his back later than leave Murdock to wake up alone again. Murdock didn't stir or twitch or mumble in his sleep like usual, he just stayed still and limp and heavy, his face blotchy and wet from tears and his breathing slow and still a little strained.
Face stayed with him while Bosco alternated sitting in a chair by the bed and getting some rest on the room's other bunk. It was soon after B.A. had fallen asleep again that the door opened. Face turned, relieved to see Mother Margaret rather than one of the other sisters. Mother closed the door quietly before moving to sit in Bosco's place in the chair.
"I'm sorry I couldn't come any sooner. Saint Mary's has a wonderful staff but every time I walk out of a room, something or someone breaks down." She gave a small smile which Face returned half-heartedly, unable to really appreciate humor of any kind when he could still feel the places on his shirt that had been dampened by Murdock's tears. Mother took the pilot's limp hand, checked the IV and his pulse, then fixed a concerned look on Face. "Sister Judith told me what happened." Face shifted, pulling Murdock up again and trying to straighten his aching back.
"How much?" Face asked softly and Mother shook her head.
"Only what she saw before she closed the door to give you some privacy. Just that he was upset and wouldn't or couldn't calm down." Face stayed quiet, pretending to be interested in the IV line. He didn't want to try to explain all this to her. It was bad enough he'd burst in with little-to-no notice and skipped right past introductions and the whole 'We haven't seen each other in thirteen years' catching up. He'd been able to tell her a little about the team before Lynch stepped in but since then postcards were about all he could manage without risking their location. He didn't want to add, 'Oh, and we've made enemies in high places that aren't above using psychopaths to kidnap and torture us for information.'
Mother wasn't about to let him get away with silence, though. Her nimble pianist's fingers pulled his hand from the IV line and held it gently.
"Temp, I need you to talk to me. And not just because I want to hear that grown up voice of yours," she added. He managed a small smile.
"Sorry. I guess I just… I don't know where to start. Thirteen years is-" Face stopped as she cut him off with a shake of her veiled head.
"Is something we can and will discuss later. Right now, I need you to tell me about your most recent adventure." Face frowned in confusion, wondering what more she could possibly want to hear after being in the room for his partial debriefing with Hannibal. Her eyes moved to Murdock, her free hand coming up to brush gently across the bruises still visible at his neck. "I've handled a wide variety of injuries in my time here. Muggings, robbery, assault, rape… all leave their own distinct marks and all can happen to the homeless or destitute which inevitably leads them to our free clinic, but this… This is something much darker… and I cannot believe that any policeman, military or not, could do such damage, no matter how wanted the victim was."
Face didn't meet her eyes. He was trying and failing to think of a place to start. It had only been one week since this had all started but it felt like a month and the gritty details were staring him down, daring him to reveal everything. As if she could read his mind, Mother Margaret spoke again.
"I don't need to know everything, Temp. The Lord knows I've heard more than enough about torture already." Her voice was soft but held the faintest of shudders at the memory. Face finally looked up, meeting her soft blue gaze and finding a glint of lion-hearted courage behind it. "All I need to know is what to expect. Because if whoever did this is still looking for you, we'll need all our defenses up."
"Defenses?" Face shot her a wry grin. "Sounds like you're preparing for battle."
"Saint Mary's is ever ready to defend her flock. And although ours is a charitable, welcoming, loving religion, you'd be surprised how strong this old church can be when she needs to keep something out." She winked and it drew a genuine smile from him which she returned before turning once more to Murdock's slumped form. "First, though, I think we'd better lay him down. Being upright like this will put more pressure on that rib than I'd like and with the posture you're both sporting, you'll wind up as hunchbacks before breakfast."
Carefully, they lowered Murdock back to the pillow and Face took the pilot's hand in his. He was determined not to leave this time, not even if Hannibal or Bosco were there. He was staying put until Murdock believed they were really there and not just enemies in disguise. Murdock remained in a deep sleep, not responding in the least when Mother Margaret's gentle touch brushed the hair from his face and rested on his forehead for a moment.
"He feels a little warm but it could be from pushing himself too hard too soon."
"Not a fever, though?" Face gripped Murdock's limp hand tighter, feeling a pang of fear in his chest at the thought of his friend trying to fight back a raging fever on top of his injuries. Mother looked over at him, choosing her words carefully.
"Temp… we pulled several surgical pins out of this man's leg. I'm no psychologist but I'd say anyone who is willing to do that to an innocent man won't be the type of person to consider sterilizing them first. I think a fever will be inevitable." Face let out a shaky sigh, pushing down the panic rising in his chest.
"But he'll be okay, right? I mean, I know he's in really bad shape but he can still pull through, can't he?"
"Of course he can." She rested a hand on his arm, lightly, but it was enough to banish the sharp stabs of fear that had assaulted his heart. "And that brings us back to the beginning. I need to know what else happened to him. There's something you're not telling us, Temp."
Face looked down at Murdock, watching his friend's chest rise and fall and remembering how his doppelganger's bloody chest had grown still. That had been the breaking point. Them being gone in the blink of an eye might just have sent Murdock into shock but trying to save that man, trying to breathe for him and pump his heart back into motion only have him die. To watch who he thought was Face die right there in front of him… that had been too much. It would've been too much for anyone, to have their best friend die, but to choke on his blood trying to save him, to think it was his fault they were dead, and know nothing could ever be done to bring them back…. Face took in a steadying breath, pulling himself out of the bloody memories and looking over at Mother again. He was about to start explaining who Lynch and Brenner were when he realized he had some more basic facts to start with.
"Sh-" he started, but a delicately raised eyebrow made him hesitate then start again, this time without the muttered curse. "I didn't even tell you who they are!" Mother smiled at him, glancing over at Bosco who was snoring softly in the other bunk.
"Simple process of elimination worked well enough this time." Face winced apologetically but she continued, smiling so he'd know she wasn't upset. "And the Colonel introduced me to this young man after you left." She rested a hand on Murdock's shoulder.
"Yeah? Thank God for Hannibal…" Face shook his head softly, grateful that someone had remembered the basics. "Okay… so it started with this call."
Face caught her up, explained what he needed to for the story to make sense, then skipped past the physical torture. It was the end of the video he had to get to and once he reached that point, telling her about Brenner's trick, he found it was worlds harder to continue than he'd expected. As he spoke, his voice grew quieter until he was almost muttering to himself, just running on autopilot to get the story out there because if he focused on it too much, he'd break down again, he knew he would.
"They said that if he wanted them to live, he had to stay quiet. He couldn't make a sound for twenty-four hours straight while these two thugs did whatever they wanted to him." There was a moment of silence as Face fought to cool his rising anger.
"And he couldn't?" Mother prompted. Face shook his head and looked over at her.
"That's just it… he did it. He choked himself to stay quiet! They even broke his rib right there and he still waited till after the time was up before he…" Face broke off, looking down and forcing his grip on Murdock's hand to loosen because it was his friend's hand, not those murderers' necks. Mother waited quietly until he'd composed himself enough to continue, looking back up at her familiar gaze and praying she had some way to heal this kind of wound too because Face knew it had hurt Murdock so much more to see them die than it had to suffer through that torture.
"Brenner tricked him. He set the clock a few minutes back and then he…" Face swallowed hard, his voice growing croaky. "He played it up like it was Murdock's fault, like he'd been too weak and had made a sound too soon…. He killed them… shot them right in front of him and just left him in there." Now that he'd said it, the words wouldn't stop. He let it go, pouring out every bit of his horror, revulsion and sympathetic grief into the telling. "He… He tried to save m- the guy he thought was me but… he couldn't." He shook his head, swallowing back tears. "They broke him. He didn't tell those bastards a thing but they broke him anyway." This time there was no shocked exclamation of 'Language, Temp!' In fact, there was no scolding whatsoever, not even a disapproving look. Instead, Mother was looking at him with shock and sorrow in her eyes.
Face looked back to Murdock, remembering the pain in his friend's voice when he'd said their names not long ago, whispered them through his tears while he stroked a memory's fingers. He'd thought that being rescued, seeing them alive and well, would've proved to Murdock that this was reality. Now he realized, Murdock was trapped somewhere, somewhere dangerous and darker than the times they'd helped him through before. Face took in a deep breath and forced his fears back for now.
"Murdock doesn't have much to begin with; none of us do, really. But he doesn't have any family that I know of and… and he's a little 'off' already." He'd mentioned Murdock's supposed insanity in his letters but it had always been the fun, zany, eccentric side of the pilot that had been included, not the side that had seen dark things, in the war and out, and sometimes needed his friends' help to stop seeing them again. "What I'm trying to say is… we're all he's got. If he thinks we're dead and won't believe us when we're standing right in front of him…" Face broke off, shaking his head and let out a mirthless laugh that didn't really do anything to hide the fear and anger in his voice. "… he'll give up. He won't fight to live, like he should if he thinks he's killed us and I don't know how to prove it to him!"
"Give him time," Mother Margaret said softly. "Whatever drug that doctor gave him should be out of his system by tomorrow night. Try speaking with him then, when he's not hindered by its effects." Face nodded, hoping Hannibal would skip past what he'd already heard Face tell and come back sooner. It would help, already did help, to have someone else understand the horrors that had been weighing on Face's mind for hours: the truth about what Murdock had gone through and the uncertainty of his recovery. Mother's hand brushing lightly against his cheek drew his eyes to hers and she smiled encouragingly. "Time can heal all manner of wounds, Temp. Just be sure you're there to help it along."