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The Room

The Roomby Hayley May

Rating:
PG
Warning: none really
Summary: Murdock finds himself cold and alone in a room he doesn't want to be
in.
Disclaimer: I don't own them
Comments/Comment card: yes to both

*-*-*

He was cold.

He was alone.

He shivered.

Fearfully, he looked around at the darkness that surrounded him, threatening to
swallow him whole. He hated being alone. He couldn't hear anything aside from
the rapid beat of his own heart, which sounded thunderous in his own ears. And
his breathing... shallow, fast... too fast, it was drowning everything.

Where was he?

How long had be been here?

Where were his friends?

He wanted to move, but couldn't. He wanted to call for help, but couldn't. He
wanted to be anywhere else, but wasn't.

Something hurt. There was pain somewhere in his body, but he couldn't tell where.

He couldn't remember how he had got here. What had happened? Where was his team?
Hannibal? BA? Face? He tried to call them. His choked whisper echoed back at
him like taunting devils dancing on the edge of his consciousness.

The echo died. The silence returned, even emptier now then before. Now he was
certain he was alone. Alone with his own mind... Hurt... Frightened... Vulnerable... He
hated being alone, paralysed by his demons, the same ones who had haunted his
dreams and sometimes even sometimes his waking moments.

The Team would come for him he reasoned. They always did. They were his team.
They were the A-Team. The Team always stuck together no matter what. They would
come for him. Only reason they wouldn't is if... if... they were dead... NO!

No.

He curled up tighter. He couldn't think like that. They were alive... somewhere.
They were coming for him. They would find him, they had to.

They had to.

And he had to help them. Had to tell them where he was. Had to find out where
he was. Had to find out all he could. Had to do something.

Had to do something.

He continued to lie there, the thought ticking over in his mind. Seconds slowly
crept past. How many he didn't know. Just a few. Then a few more. Surely it
wouldn't matter?

*Get up, Murdock.*

The thought was building slowly in his mind, getting more defined, drifting to
his front consciousness like a feather in the wind.

*Get up, Murdock.*

*No*.

The answer came from nowhere, startling him. It was as if the thought was from
an independent part of his mind.

*Get up, Murdock.*

The command was clearer now, closer, more definite. It was as if he could reach
out and grasp it.

*No!*

*Get up, Murdock.*

It was right in front of him now. He could almost touch it. He wanted to reach
out, wanted to grab it, but there was something stopping him.

"I'm afraid."

He spoke the words without meaning to, the sound shattering all his uncertainties.
Suddenly everything around him seemed more real. Suddenly he knew who he was.
He knew what he had to do.

*Get up, Murdock.*

The voice in his mind was his own voice now. It was his own command.

He slowly opened his eyes, not remembering when he had shut them. The darkness
didn't seem so dark now. His heartbeat wasn't so loud. He could do this. He
would do this!

Get up, Murdock.

Slowly, carefully, timidly, the uncurled himself. First he sat up, and then he
pulled himself to his feet. His legs shook beneath his weight, but he refused
to give in and sit back down. Something was driving him forward. He stayed up.

He took the time to look around him properly for the first time. He was in a
room; a room with no windows; with no furnishings. A room he'd been in before.
He remembered. This was also a room he had escaped from before.

There was a door. He saw the door. He remembered the door. He slowly moved
towards it. Hesitating as he reached it, he stopped. What would he find on the
other side? What would it be like? Where would it lead?

For a moment he was paralysed. He stood still, simply staring at the door and
the handle. Could he do this? Could he actually do this?

He glanced back at the room behind him, the dark shadows he had moved from.

*Open the door, Murdock.*

It was that voice again.

He faced the door once more, slowly lifting a hand to the handle. He hesitated
mid-way.

*Open the door, Murdock.*

He plunged forward, gripping at the smooth metal. It was cold to his touch, solid.
He wanted to let go, but knew he couldn't, not until he had done what he had
to. Something was holding him there.

*Open the door, Murdock.*

He turned the handle...

The light was bright, blinding him as he blinked to allow his eyes to adjust.
The figures above him were hazy, moving like distant trees in the wind. The
sounds were too jumbled for him to make out clearly, as if he were under water.
He recognised a few out the voices, but they sounded so far off.

"The fool's awake, Hannibal. He's come back to us."

Three faces... Three memories... Three friends.

"Welcome back, Captain."

They had found him. He was safe. The room was gone. He was warm, in bed, safe.

Smiling weakly, he nodded before closing his eyes, allowing dreamland to take
his body, secure in the knowledge that he had defeated his demons once and for
all.