indigo_angels

BA glanced down at his watch, only five minutes since he’d arrived, but hell, it felt longer. He shuffled uncomfortably on the hard seat and caught the eye of the nurse who’d spoken to him and she smiled sympathetically before rising and saying, “I’ll see what I can find out for you,” before disappearing into the small office at the back.

Leaning back in his chair, BA crossed his feet at the ankles and tried to force some calm into his limbs. Pike wasn’t here, he probably hadn’t even considered coming after Murdock. He’d just taken a bullet off the boss after all, maybe not in the exact place that Hannibal had planned for it, because then the bastard would be dead like his damn brother, but he was hurt. If he any sense at all he’d just disappear and lick his wounds somewhere.

BA thought about Brock Pike and that huge wave of guilt reared its head once more. Silas Pike had taken Face because he thought Face had killed his brother, but of course it wasn’t Face, was it? It wasn’t Face who should have gone through all of this, suffered like this - it should have been him. But then BA shuddered, because, well, look at everything Pike and Adele had done to get close to Face - what would they have done for BA? Would his momma have been dragged into this? Would they have used her to get to him? He sat up straight again, all that anger coming back. No way. No way was he gonna let that sick bastard anywhere near his family – the ones in Chicago, or the ones right here, right now.

Voices drifted out from the office at the back and BA strained to listen as he heard Murdock’s alias mentioned. “It’s not a doctor I’ve seen before, that’s all,” the nurse was saying, “and I wondered if Mr. Taylor would like his friend there to talk with the doctor, after all he’s not been awake that long.”

Alarms sounded in BA’s head and he was on his feet and making his way down the corridor to Murdock’s room before he even realised. He stopped at the closed wooden door and leant his ear against it, listening hard, and at the sound of a muted struggled inside he didn’t wait a second longer. With speed and agility that often surprised those who didn’t know him, BA was inside, door closed firmly behind him and yanking Pike off Murdock’s struggling body before Pike had had the chance to see what he was up against. The pillow that Pike had been holding down over Murdock’s head fell to the floor and BA felt a surge of relief at the noisy gasps he could hear coming from the person on the bed.

Silas Pike was made of thick, solid muscle, and so was heavier than BA had accounted for. The move that he had hoped would throw Murdock’s assailant across the room only had him staggering back a few paces, incredibly keeping his feet. BA frowned, but seeing the blood on Pike’s shirt where his doctor’s coat hung open he took his opportunity and slammed a fist right in, right on that dark red target left by Face and was gratified to hear the groan of pain as Pike collapsed on the floor.

“BA!” Murdock’s voice was nothing other than a dry rasp and BA turned to look seeing the pilot still struggling with the ligature around his neck and BA swore, realising that the pillow was only a device to keep his victim quiet while he throttled him with something much more effective. He was at the bedside in two strides, his big fingers delicately loosening the cord and unthreading it from Murdock’s bruised neck.

“Okay? You okay, Crazy?” he asked, not even noticing his familiar nickname for the pilot in his desperate concern.

Murdock nodded, holding tight to both of BA’s forearms as he swallowed in huge gulps of air. “Yeah,” he gasped, “Yeah. Listen, big guy, we gotta warn Face. His mother, she-”

“I know, he knows,” BA soothed. “It’s all sorted man, we just gonna get out of here an’ lay low for a while.”

“He knows?” Murdock asked, worry in his eyes as he looked up at BA, “How is he? He- BA!”

BA tensed at the panicked look Murdock was sending over his shoulder and dragged the dinner tray off Murdock’s table as he turned, throwing it up as part shield, part weapon, managing to deflect the table lamp that Silas had swinging his way so that it only hit his shoulder and not his head. Even so, the force of the blow was enough to send BA reeling, bouncing off the wall and then falling, Silas on him in a flash, his knees on BA’s chest, his hands around his throat.

“This is even better,” Silas hissed as he put all of his weight into crushing BA’s windpipe. “Peck won’t know what hit him when I kill both you and the crazy guy over there! Revenge is sweet after all.”

BA twisted his neck, turning so that Silas’ thumbs weren’t pressing right on his airway anymore and braced a foot against the bed. “Aint Face you need revenge on, fool!” he gasped, twisting his body under the weight pinning him down. “He didn’t kill your brother! I did! You been picking on the wrong man, sucka!”

A dark anger flooded Silas’ face and he leant down harder, his eyes boring into BA’s. “Yeah? Well I’ll enjoy this even more then, watching you die by my hand this time!”

Suddenly, BA’s whole body leapt into the air as he pushed with the leg braced against the bed. The move unseated Silas, but instead of coming off as BA had hoped he would, his solid bulk meant that he only slid forward, his hands keeping up their pressure on BA’s abused neck.

“Not good enough, loser,” Silas hissed and moved in for the kill, his face, savagely satisfied, staring right into BA’s.

BA struggled, knowing that if he fell here, then Murdock was next on Silas’ list, and then Hannibal and Face would be unprotected as well. But Silas was heavy and solid, and little black dots were starting to appear in BA’s vision and he knew his time was running out.

“Die!” Silas hissed at him, his eyes narrowed in hatred, “Die you fucking murderer!” and BA began to think he would. “Go, on, die you-” and then suddenly it was all gone, the pressure on his neck, the pressure on his chest, that cold face, the words of hate and BA sucked in a beautiful breath as he blinked away the spots in his eyes to find himself looking up at Murdock standing above him.

The pilot was wearing his hospital gown and swaying on the spot, but with the table lamp still clutched tight in his fingers. “You alright, Bosco?” he asked slowly and BA smiled, scrambling quickly to his feet.

“Oh, yeah, Crazy,” he said, grinning through his gasping breaths as he took the lamp from Murdock’s hand and dropped it on the bed. “I couldn’t be better now, seein’ you like that,” laughter wheezed out from his lips and Murdock returned the grin even as his swaying got worse. “Here, man,” BA rasped, stepping forward, “let me carry you, we’re outta here brother.”

Murdock only nodded and let BA scoop him up in his arms and then, stepping over Pike’s prone form on the way, BA did a quick furtive check up and down the corridor before he stepped out and made his way at a quick jog towards the fire exit.

______________________________

Hannibal sat back in his chair, with the laptop on his knee and chewed his lip thoughtfully as he looked at Face. The kid was still on oxygen, and had just started on his second unit of blood which was pushing his blood pressure back up to something near normal. His arm had been redressed, and the bleeding had finally stopped and Hannibal had cleaned and treated all the lashes on his body, finishing off by wrapping up his ribs and his swollen ankle, which Hannibal was just hoping wasn’t broken.

But still Face hadn’t stirred, not one flicker of an eyelid had met Hannibal’s treatment of him, not even when some of the deeper wounds had been stitched. The constant soothing monologue hadn’t worked either, and in desperation, Hannibal had even tried ordering Face to respond to him, but nothing had succeeded. He looked back at the open laptop on his knee and rubbed at his head, wondering if it was the blood loss, the carbon monoxide, the blow to his head, the pin prick injection site on his neck, or any of his other many injuries that was keeping Face from waking up.

He was worried, worried about BA and Murdock, yes, not sure what was keeping them, but also worried about Face. He was no doctor here, he’d done everything he could think of, everything he’d found on the internet to help him, and still Face was out cold. There was an uncomfortable niggling deep in his brain that told him Face needed a hospital...

The sound of the Sunfire’s rough engine outside alerted him to BA’s arrival and he ran to open the garage doors for them.

As soon as they were in and Hannibal had checked the around their rapidly darkening surroundings to make sure they hadn’t been followed, he turned to help a rather fragile looking Murdock, still barefoot and in his hospital gown, as he pulled himself from the car.

“Murdock,” he greeted him, looking him over from his pale complexion, to the thin purple ligature mark around his neck.

“Colonel!” Murdock replied, snapping off a quick salute, but Hannibal ignored him, choosing to grab hold of him instead, pulling him hard against his chest in an enthusiastic, if slightly awkward, hug.

“Good to have you back, HM,” he nodded, his cheeks tinged pink with embarrassment and Murdock smiled at him as they separated.

“Good to be back,” he drawled in his best Texan twang. Then, “Where’s Face?” he asked suddenly, eyes flicking around the unit and Hannibal nodded over to the corner they used for sleeping and Murdock disappeared, bare feet slapping on the floor as he weaved, unsteadily towards the cots.

Hannibal turned to BA and the big guy saw his commander’s eyes flick to the bruises showing dark on his neck before narrowing as they moved back to his eyes, “Report,” he ordered brusquely.

“Pike was there when I got there,” BA said quietly. “’Cept I didn’t know, they told me he was with a doc an’ I had to wait outside.” Hannibal nodded, understanding the guilt he’d seen in his corporal’s face as soon as he’d looked at him.

“Understandable,” Hannibal reassured quickly, wanting to hear the rest of the story.

BA nodded, still unconvinced, but continued anyway, knowing that there would be time enough for guilt later. “So when I went in he was attackin’ HM, had a pillow on his face, cord round his neck.” If at all possible, Hannibal’s eyes darkened further. “We fought,” the slightest twitch of a smile pulled at BA’s lips, “An’ Murdock took him out with a lamp.”

“Dead?” Hannibal asked, not seeing the funny side of that just yet and BA shrugged.

“Dunno man,” he admitted, “we hadta scarper quick, all that noise, someone hadta be comin’.”

“Okay, BA,” Hannibal rubbed at his forehead, a sure sign he was stressed. “That’s fine for now, and then,” they locked eyes, “after this, we go after him, hunt him down. I’m not letting him blindside us like this again.”

BA nodded, his expression one of full agreement. “I told him, boss, told him he’d been after the wrong guy.”

Of course he had, Hannibal hadn’t expected anything less than that from BA, he’d known since the second they had received Adele’s call in the van that the guilt was eating him inside out. He clapped him firmly on the shoulder, “You’re a good man, BA,” he said quietly, “but it changes nothing. This concerns all of us now, he’d take any of us down if he had the chance. We aren’t going to let him.”

“No,” BA agreed, “we aint.” He glanced over his shoulder into the corner where Murdock was sat on the edge of one of the cots, his voice low as he held a one sided conversation with Face. “How’s Face?” he asked, kind of wary of hearing the answer, kind of disappointed the kid hadn’t been already been awake when he got back with Murdock.

Hannibal followed his gaze and BA looked back at the boss to see the barely contained despair in his eyes. “I don’t know, big guy,” he breathed, “I don't know what the hell I’m treating with him, there’s so much, and he hasn’t stirred, not once, not a damn flicker.” He shook his head. “I’m outta my depth here,” he admitted, “he’s been shot, drugged, poisoned, beaten to all hell... I’m not a doctor here.”

BA ran a hand through his Mohawk, knowing what else he could see in Hannibal’s face, knowing the decision he was making. “I bet Face has done one o’ those emergency pack things for himself, you know,” he said quietly, wary of tipping Hannibal’s hand too early.

“He has,” Hannibal confirmed, “but it’s back at the house.”

“I can be there an’ back in an hour...” BA offered carefully and Hannibal frowned.

“I know, it’s just...” he shook his head, “No, I’d rather we all stayed together right now.”

BA glanced back at their team mates over in the corner and knew that they were both relying so heavily on him and Hannibal. “Bossman,” he said quietly, “what happens if he takes a turn for the worse an’ we don’t have a choice? We gonna drop him off without a back story? Let them finger print him an’ chain him to the bed?” Hannibal scrubbed his face with both of his big palms and BA could feel the indecision coming off him in waves. “We take him to hospital without that cover, an’ we may as well drop him off at Leavenworth ourselves, we won’t be gettin’ him back.”

“I know that,” Hannibal ground out from behind his hands.

“So I need to go get that stuff for him!”

“But Pike,” Hannibal said, lifting his head, eyes beseeching his corporal, “he could be waiting there for you.”

“I’d like to see him try,” BA muttered. “He comes at me or any of us again an’ I won't be leavin’ until I know he aint gonna get back up again.” Hannibal just stared at him. “Plus we need our gear, one of the laptops is there right? An’ all our stuff? I can have it all in the van in twenty minutes.”

Hannibal sighed and BA watched as he dropped his hands and let his eyes drift to Murdock and Face who were still in the corner. “You’ve got ninety minutes to get back here,” he said eventually. “And then I’ll have to come looking for you, leaving these two here alone.”

“I know,” BA answered softly. “Don't worry, Hannibal, I’ll get it done.”

But Hannibal was worried, he hated splitting his team like this, especially with Face and Murdock both so vulnerable right now. “Okay,” he breathed and BA knew it was against his better judgement. “Take care of yourself, Bosco.”

BA nodded and went straight for the van as Hannibal opened the doors on the dark night to let him out.

Next