Face had just been coming home from yet another date. His back was up against the appartment door he was currently sharing with Murdock who should be asleep now.

His mind was reeling from infinite glasses of wine, his date was giggling and stumbling over her feet.

Mindy, Cindy, he couldn't remember her name. She tucked a peice of paper in his coat pocket of what he assumed was her number. He would be definitely be calling her.

"Call me," she winked before stumbling down the hall.

Face unlocked his apartment door and silently pushed it inside. He poured himself another glass of wine before heading down the hall towards the bathroom. In need of a much needed shower.

He passed Murdock's open door when he heard it. That sound that made him push his suit jacket back to revel his pistol. It was almost a whimper but it was more like a groan in pain.

But it was only Murdock. He was curled up against where his bed meets the wall. His blue baseball cap turned down over his face, his arms around his head. Face recognized that as how Murdock used to sleep in Vietnam. Vietnam prisoner camps.

Face pulled off his designer coat and sat down gently on the edge of the bed. Depressing the mattress only slightly.

"Murdock," Face said softly. "It's Faceman."

But Murdock didn't show any sign of recognition. So Face decided to use Hannibal's technique.

"Captain," he said in a firm voice. "We're currently in Arizona. Do you hear me?"

Murdock showed no response.

Face reached out and attempted to gently touch Murdock's knee. In a flash, Murdock's bony fingers lashed out and gripped Face's wrist in a vice grip.

"Murdock, it's Face," Faceman said softly. Ditching Hannibal's technique.

The Captain's hand slid off and dropped down to his side. Face took the chance and scooted closer up to him.

"Murdock, we're not over here. You here me? We're in Arizona," Face whispered.

Murdock whimpered and dropped his hands around his head. Face wrapped his arm around the young Captain and pulled him close to his side. His designer shoes fell on the floor as he pulled his knees to his chest.

The Captain sobbed into his best friend's shoulder. In Vietnam, the Camp Leaders tagged Murdock as the weakest. So he always got the worst of the torturing and beatings. When they dragged Murdock back from the POW huts, he would always sleep pressed up against Face's side. Vice versa when it was Face's turn.

The only thing Murdock needed was human contact, sleeping alone in the VA only made it worse. That's probably the only reason he was probably in it.

Face grabbed the blanket off the end of the bed and draped it over Murdock. The only sound in the room was Murdock sobbing.

Moonlight drifted through the blinds and danced on the unused pillow.

When Face didn't have a date coming home with him, Murdock would crawl into bed with him. Childish enough, yes. But it was something Murdock needed and Face couldn't resist. The con man could get anything he needed. Especially if his best friend needed something.

"Hannibal, they're coming again," the young lieutenant looked through the bars of their cell.

The old Colonel's face was bloodied from yesterday's beating. "B.A, get ready."

The sergeant looked up from sitting in his place in the corner. Murdock whimpered from his spot on him and Face's bamboo pallet.

Vietnamese guards opened the door, bamboo sticks at their sides. "bạn, thí điên(you, crazy pilot)."

Murdock fell at the guards feet. "thương xót(mercy)."

Face turned away, unable to watch what happens next. The guards yanked Murdock to his feet and hauled him out the door, locking it behind them.

It was silent in their cell for a while. Face refused to leave from his spot until Murdock came back. Once in a while, Murdock's strained screaming would drift over to them.

"Lieutenant, get some sleep," Hannibal said from his pallet.

"Not until Murdock comes back," Face said back.

And he did keep his word, they drug Murdock back, three hours later. The Captain was passed out and his face and body bloody.

That was the third time this week.

B.A lifted him onto the pallet and Face attempted to wash it off with their water supply for that day. But it only made it worse. Murdock wrapped his arms around his head and tucked his knees into his chest.

Face laid down beside him and Murdock automatically pressed his body against his. Craving someone familiar to touch, Face threw his arm over Murdock's back.

Hannibal leaned up against the wall and looked over at the other half of his unit. Something had broken in both of them.

Now Face stared off into the half open closet. Murdock was finally asleep and breathing peacefully. Face threw his arm over Murdock's back, like all those years ago.

Whatever had broken inside of Murdock, had obviously not healed. The Government claimed he was crazy and threw him in the nuthouse. Murdock's way of covering up pain, was with humor.

Once Murdock had only a t-shirt on. His bomber jacket wasn't on, neither was his flannel. Face looked down at his bare wrists to find faint scars etching horizontally the Captain's bare skin.

"Murdock, what are those?" Face asked once Hannibal and B.A had left the room.

The Captain pulled his wrist away, "they're nothing."

"Obviously they're not," a mortified expression was stuck on the Lieutenant's face. "Murdock just let me see."

Murdock placed his trembling wrists in the Lieutenant's outstretched hand. "Face-"

Face ran a finger over the thin scar. "Murdock, why?'

The Captain's brown eyes turned bloodshot and watery. "Because that nuthouse doesn't help nothing."

Face wrapped his strong arms around his friends shoulders. "Murdock, next time you feel like this. Tell me. I'll talk you out of it. I promise."

Murdock remembered the blood, the sting and the relief. The nurses never found it. The pain kept him somewhat down to Earth.

"Okay."

Face remembered those scars, he wondered if Murdock drew anymore. But he did keep a good job at hiding them. Face didn't know if Hannibal or B.A knew.

B.A often taunts Murdock for being crazy but they all knew the reason why. Murdock was very smart and everybody knew that. It's just the way he covered up pain. When Murdock got shot, B.A realized his soft spot for the Captain.

The Lieutenant reached over for the phone and dialed Hannibal's number. "I think he's getting worse."