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This page last viewed: 2017-12-13 and has been viewed 5710 times
A Bump In The Night
Rating: NC17 Warnings: GRAPHIC NON CONSENSUAL M/M SEX AND ANGST! AND THIS TIME I MEAN IT! DANGER WILL ROBINSON, DANGER!!!!
Part 1 (n/c sex) part 9( slash) In between (some foul language , alot of angst, poor punctuation and run on sentences) If you skip the rape, you can still follow the story. Description of Murdock's injuries in Richter's meeting with the team..
Summary: Murdock gets an unwelcome late night visitor at the VA Disclaimer: I don't own the A-TEAM....etc. Note: *words* is someone thinking to themselves
Rorschach Test(Not positive, but I think it the technical term for the ink blot test)
Murdock shuffled slowly down the hallway towards his room, pissed off at everyone he knew. He had just spent the last week being pat on the head and treated like a delusion and incompetent child.
Dr. Richter had just finished explaining to the pilot over a dozen philosophical reasons for his "unfounded" fears of the escaped mental patient coming back to seek vengeance on him; "The trauma of having been beaten by the man on more than one occasion while he was a patient at the VA. Guilt for having the individual locked away in an institution for the criminally insane. His own feelings of inadequacy for being unable to deal with the problem himself. Even shame for not passing the Rorschach Test he had insisted on taking in an effort to have his mental status reclassified to get himself transferred to another floor in the hospital. "All understandable feelings," according to Richter, "but unfounded none the less."
Even the team wasn't taking him seriously.
*Hell, they already know I'm crazy, easy enough to just tack paranoia on to the list!*
"FUCK 'EM!" he yelled, as continued down the hall, ignoring the shocked faces of the hospital personnel as he passed by.
The man positioned himself in a dark corner behind the door, where he was well hidden. The lights had already been out upon his arrival, and due to the late hour, he figured the pilot would not likely turn them on upon entering.
*Not that it would matter much if he did,* the stranger thought to himself, *he's not much of a fighter when faced head on.*
A beam of light shot across the room for a brief moment as the door opened and quickly shut again returning the room to blackness. Murdock crossed the room, removing his jacket and shirt along the way. He exhaled deeply and sat down heavily on the side of his bed. "Maybe I am over reacting." He sighed out loud.
Wasting no time, the figure moved stealthily across the floor and came up behind Murdock unnoticed. Quickly looping his left arm through the pilot's, he anchored his hand on the back of Murdock's neck. His right hand firmly clamped over Murdock's mouth preventing him from calling out. In one swift motion, Murdock was pinned beneath the man face down on the bed.
Not giving the pilot a chance to struggle, a needle was jabbed forcefully into his neck. Within a matter of seconds, Murdock was slowly losing the ability to fight.
One arm was yanked above his head and fastened to the head board with a belted restraint. A knee ground into his back, forcing his face down into his pillow, and the intruder followed suit with the other arm. When he was secured, the knee was removed and the hand was replaced over his mouth.
Murdock tried desperately to thrash about to no avail. The man forcefully jerked his head back to let him know how serious he was. Murdock tried screaming through the calloused fingers, as the other hand was shoved between him and the bed, tearing his pants from his body.
He roughly palmed and squeezed the pilot's bare ass before delivering a searing smack, the first of many more to come.
Murdock could hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down and the unmistakable feeling of an erection forcefully stroking against the crack of his ass. His breathing quickened as fear began to overwhelm him. Too many times, the larger patients in the hospital had made similar threats to him leaving him terrified. The actuality of it was leaving him paralyzed.
A ball of cloth was suddenly stuffed into his mouth, replacing the hand.
Murdock was now being pulled up by his hips, and a pillow was shoved under his stomach. Whatever the drug was, it was working it's was through his system fast, and he could feel his muscles turning to stone.
Once again the hand made its way beneath him, this time taking hold of his penis. The man fondled him, running his hand repeatedly along it's length, in an effort to get him hard. When it didn't work, out of frustration, he jammed two fingers into Murdock's anus evoking another muffled scream from his prey. While keeping the act as painful as possible, the fingers delve deep into the pilot's hole searching for the gland that would bring forth the reaction he was looking for. Moments later, Murdock's cock involuntarily stiffened.
The now bloodied fingers withdrew quickly and Murdock could feel the man's tongue caressing his rectum, coating it with saliva and eagerly lapping the blood that trickled down his thighs.
The man straightened up behind him and stroked himself while admiring the damage he'd inflicted, before finally breaking his silence.
Mulligan's voice was low and filled with vehemence. "Mmmmm....have you missed me Murdock?... I've missed you. I've been thinking alot about you over the last few months."
Murdock could hear his assailant's breaths begin to come in quick, soft grunts, as he was preparing to take him.
*Oh Christ, help me!* He prayed as he tried to brace himself against the inevitable.
With one powerful thrust, Murdock's muscles were brutally stretched and ripped. Mulligan buried himself to the hilt inside Murdock's ass. While listening to Murdock's bridled screams, he pounded him over and over again, vaulting him into the headboard.
Murdock grunted and sobbed through the cloth as he felt himself being torn apart. Tears trailed down his cheeks and blood streamed down his thighs. The pain was excruciating and Mulligan thrived on knowing it. He grabbed for Murdock's cock, jerking it hard, each thrust nailing him in the scrotum with bruising force. Despite Mulligan's efforts to keep the pilot lucid through the assault, white light began exploding behind Murdock's eyes and he started losing consciousness.
Mulligan leaned his entire 280 pounds across the pilot's back, and without pulling out of him, whispered in his ear.
"I'm not done with you baby, not by a long shot," he laughed and continued the abuse.
That was the last thing Murdock would hear before mercifully passing out.
Murdock slowly regained consciousness to the sound of muddled voices in the distance. His head was spinning, his body was on fire inside and out, and he had no idea why. He tried to roll over but felt a tug at his wrist. He struggled to lift his head from the pillow to see what was holding him back, but the room was bright with sunlight and it sent shooting pains through his head. He snapped his eyes shut again, and tried to gain some mental semblance to the situation, but his mind was just as fuzzy as his vision.
In his semi conscious state he heard his door open and someone yell for Dr. Richter. Upon hearing his friends' name, he let himself slip back into the blackness for a spell, knowing he would get some help.
Moments later he was abruptly awakened by the feeling of hands on his body and frantic voices all around him. He tried to focus on the one that was most familiar to him.
"Doc...?" he croaked out quietly.
"H.M., lord, what happened?" Richter asked frantically, looking over the pilot's naked and bloodied body. He cringed when they rolled him over, revealing more discoloration around his ribcage, groin and thighs.
*I need answers, not questions!* Murdock thought angrily, but his mouth wasn't cooperating with his brain. His head listlessly rolled back and forth, still trying to figure out who all the people around him were. He vaguely heard a shaky female voice, talking to Richter....something about a note. He then heard something being mumbled about security cameras, and night duty personnel, but the chaos around him was becoming too much for him to take, and he once again fell into unconsciousness.
Richter's entire body shook with guilt as he watched Murdock being wheeled away on a stretcher. Being who he was, and who he associated with, the possibilities of who had done this were endless, although he was pretty sure, given the paper left on the night stand, it could only have been one individual.
Shaking overtook him once again as he realized he would have to place the call to the team, before they had to hear about it on the news.
Immediately going to his office, he pulled his wallet out of his jacket, and began dialing number after number. It was no use, all of Face's previous numbers had either been disconnected, or no one was answering. Even the phone in the van was a dead end. He slipped his beeper into his pocket, and headed out for the hospital.
Face walked into his apartment. Letting out a deep sigh of disapproval, he made his way to the stereo and flicked it off, immediately eliciting a growl from BA.
"Hey man, what 'cha do that fo'? I was listenin' to the game!" He snarled, gripping his football menacingly.
"BA, you had it so loud, the people in the lobby were listening to that game. You guys are going to get me thrown out...again." Face looked around the apartment. "Where's Hannibal?"
"He went out to get some milk and a pizza. Why ain't ya' got no food?" He said flicking on the television to find the game.
"Because, I rarely eat here." He answered, chucking his keys on the wet bar and settling down on the sofa next to BA.
"But ya' knew we was comin' over..." He persisted.
"Yeah, and?" He smiled. "Oh, I see, you think I should have stock my refrigerator for you two every time you "stop by" to watch a game.... Well, the way I see it, the food is why you "stop by" to watch a game. Maybe If I stop buying the food, you two will go some place else for football season, and quit ruining all of my dates."
BA laughed remembering the time Hannibal stole the two models Face had his eye on, by using some phony letterhead Face had made up and his very own con.
"Hey, ain't that the VA?" BA asked suddenly, catching sight of the buildings familiar entrance on the screen. "Turn up the volume."
"...the unidentified man has been taken to Los Angeles Community Hospital, and is being listed in critical condition. A spokesperson for
the Veterans Administration says, they have no idea how the assailant got into the building, and around security. Police are conducting a thorough investigation into the incident, back to you Matt." "Thank you
Karen, once again, the police do not have reason to connect the attack with the recent escape of Patrick Mulligan, from the Mountain View Sanitarium in Sylmar County. Mulligan, a former patient of the Veterans Psychiatric Hospital, was transferred to the high security facility several months back, due to his violent and erratic behavior towards patients and hospital staff. We will bring you more on this story as it develops. In other news..."
Face flicked off the television, went to his jacket and began picking through his business cards.
BA, already making his way to the door was stopped by Hannibal on his way in. Looking at their faces he knew they had heard the news.
"BA, we don't even know if it is Murdock." He was desperately trying to ignore the sick feeling that had crept up on him in the car as he listened to the report. "Besides, it's not like you can just storm into a public hospital. I'm sure the military will be waiting, once they realize who..." His voice trailed off as he realized he just admitted to them that he too thought it was Murdock.
"I got it." Face announced holding up a card, and paged Richter.
Hannibal leaned back against the wall with his arms folded, Face sat at the desk starring at the phone, and BA angrily paced back and forth across the apartment, as they waited silently for the phone to ring.
The results from the blood test had come back and Richter was relieved to learn that the drug in Murdock's system was nothing more than a strong muscle relaxer, used by the hospital to incapacitate violent and erratic patients. At least now he could sedate him if necessary should he become hysterical upon waking, without the fear of it having an ill effect on him when interacting with the previously unknown substance.
He was just about to settle into a chair next to the bed, when his beeper went off. Stroking the pilot's hair, he whispered that he'd be back soon, and left the room.
Richter ruefully shook his head as he passed by the sleeping sergeant that Decker had stationed by the door outside of Murdock's room. *Decker can be such a vulture,* he thought to himself, and headed out to find a pay phone.
Within fifteen minutes of placing the call, the black van pulled up outside of the convenience store where Richter waited. It was a short trip, but BA's deadly silence made it feel like forever.
Once inside the apartment, Richter felt uneasy. The three men sat on the sofa and watched him with bated breath. They had no idea what was coming.
"Okay, there's no easy way to tell you this, so I'm just going to come right out with it." Richter took a deep breath. "H.M. has been brutally raped and beaten." He paused to let the information set in.
BA immediately stood up, not able to face anyone. He walked across the room and placed his hands on the wall in an effort to steady himself. He was desperately trying to keep his rage inside.
Face wasn't, or if he was trying to, he was failing miserably. He closed his eyes and covered them with a trembling hand. The other was clenched into a fist in his lap.
Hannibal wore a mask of control. There was only one subtle difference in him. His eyes had changed to a steal blue, from their usual crystal gleam.
"What happened?" he asked through gritted teeth.
"I don't know " Richter sighed. He hasn't regained consciousness yet, I only know what I saw and what the doctors told me."
"And that was?" Hannibal spat angrily.
"A nurse found him in his room this morning, bound and gagged."
Both Hannibal and Face looked at him to continue.
"Look, I don't really know the details, however there was something found on his night stand, and I thought you should know about it. It was an ink blot...in H.M.'s blood."
Face jumped up and slammed his fists into the desk. "G*D DAMNIT! This is all my fault!"
"Calm down Face...."
"No Hannibal, you don't understand, he tried to tell me and I thought he was just being paranoid. I had other things on my mind at the time, and I dismissed him. I-I let him down!"
Hannibal was about to speak, when Richter interrupted. "I think we can all share in that guilt Face. He had been in my office for extra sessions for the last week, and I told him essentially the same thing, but that won't help him right now. He needs you. All of you."
Face didn't lift his head, but nodded in agreement.
"Okay Doc, he's in the psych ward right? we'll just..."
Richter somberly shook his head. "No Mr. Smith, he's in the ICU. He might be transferred to a regular room tomorrow, but I can't be sure."
"Just how bad is he?" Hannibal asked in shock. Face starred with a look of horror in his eyes.
Richter exhaled deeply. He had wanted to tell them as little as possible. Just thinking about how he'd let Murdock down made him feel like a failure, thinking about the torture he'd endured made him feel sick, but he knew better than to get into this with Hannibal. *Ironic,* he thought to himself, *a therapist, that has trouble talking about his feelings.*
"Aside from the obvious injuries stemming from the rape, the internal bruising and tearing, he also suffered heavy bruising around his kidneys and groin, as well as some broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder. There was also a deep laceration on the inside of his left thigh...I'm guessing that's where he got the blood for the ink blot. It took quite a few stitches to close. He was in severe shock by the time he arrived at the hospital, and was in desperate need of blood. The drug found in his blood stream, had slowed his heart rate and depressed his respiratory system. Even though we don't know exactly how long he had been in that condition before being found, it may have actually helped to prevent him from bleeding to death during the night. Then, there's always his mental state...."
Hannibal held his hand over his mouth, as if to stifle a silent scream. Face was just about hyperventilating, and Richter led him to the couch, where he dropped his head into his lap and ran two shaking hands through his hair.
Everyone was jolted out of their thoughts as BA's fists began remodeling Face's apartment, coming into contact with just about every immovable object in his path No one stopped him. Even Richter mentally chalked it up to an acceptable form of coping with the situation.
When BA finally tired himself out, Richter began again. "Listen, I've got to get back to him."
"I'm coming with you." Hannibal stated and headed for the door.
"Colonel, the military is there. How are you going to..." His words dropped off as Hannibal pulled a box out of Face's closet and threw a wig on.
Ten minutes later, Hannibal was someone else, and ready to leave.
He looked to Face and BA. He knew they really wanted to come, but it wasn't safe. "Guys, I'll come up with something, I promise." He said, and walked out the door with Richter close behind.
No one looked twice at Richter or Hannibal as they entered the hospital. Even upon entering the ICU, the previously sleeping sergeant nodded as they walked through the door.
Hannibal approached the sleeping captain slowly. The room was quiet, save the low lull of the heart monitor. All of the lights in the room were out, except the one directly above his bed creating an erie effect. Hannibal hovered over him for a minute in a state of shock and disbelief of the captain's condition. He tentatively reached out and touched his cheek, swiftly pulling back as Murdock began to move.
His eyes slowly opened and he starred at the man before him. "Hannibal..? What are you doing here?" he said quietly.
Hannibal smiled half heartedly, Murdock could always see right through his disguises. "I came to see you. How are you feeling captain?" Right after the words left his mouth, he wished he hadn't said them.
"I guess 'ahm okay..." He seemed to be trying to take in his surroundings. "Where are we?"
"In a hospital, Murdock." Hannibal cast a very concerned glance over to Richter.
Richter stepped forwards.
Murdock looked at Richter in confusion. "Somebody sick?"
Richter exhaled deeply, he seemed to be doing alot of that lately. "H.M...? What is the last thing you remember?"
Murdock thought it an odd question, but answered it anyway.
"I remember eating lunch, 'cause they had that tapioca pudding I like, he grinned, ....and I remember....I don't know, I don't seem to remember much else, why doc, what's going on?"
Hannibal's eyes met Richter's with a matched look of anxiety.
Murdock watched as the two men took a place on either side of the bed. Hannibal took his hand.
Richter began to speak. "Murdock, last night..." His voice trailed off as his attention was suddenly drawn to a folded piece of paper next to Hannibal's arm. Hannibal looked in the direction of Richter's gaze and just about died.
"Last night what doc?"
Hannibal smiled at Murdock and patted his hand gently, "hang on a minute, okay Murdock.."
He picked up the paper and moved to the other side of the room, where Richter joined him. He unfolded it and gasped. "He was here!" He whispered angrily. "How the hell could he have gotten in here?"
Richter took the note and read it.
-Don't think for a minute that this is over. I've only just begun......
'We have to get him out of here," Hannibal said quietly, "can we move him?"
Richter looked over to Murdock, who stared back questioningly. *Thank god for the morphine,* he thought to himself. "I'm going to have to sedate him again, he's had just about as much morphine as his body can take right now, that's why he doesn't feel the full extent of his injuries, but if we were to move him without sedating him, he would be in too much pain and probably tear his sutures."
"Do it. Then go call BA and Face, have BA bring the van. Tell Face to procure a secure location where we can lay low for awhile."
"What are you going to do?"
"I'm going to get Murdock out of here."
"What's going on, Hannibal?" He then looked at Richter, but before either of them could answer, Murdock's eyes rolled back and he started convulsing.
"Fuck!" Hannibal yelled running over to the pilot. He grabbed a pen from
his pocket and thrust it into Murdock's mouth, trying to keep him from biting off his tongue. Murdock's body went rigid, and the only sound he made was a combination of gurgling and gasping for air.
Richter ran to the cabinet and rummaged around. Pulling out a vile of Phenobarbital, He filled a syringe and quickly injected it into Murdock's neck, gradually ending the seizure.
"Doc..?" Hannibal began while stroking Murdock's arm.
"It could be from all of the drugs in his system, or....or he could have
"G*d, I hope it was the drugs." Hannibal said looking on Murdock's heaving body with concerned eyes.
"You and me both." Richter added somberly. "This is going to be difficult. He should be out for a little while, but I don't want to give him anything else right now, he already has too many chemicals at work in his system and Phenobarbital causes alot of side effects on it's own," he said checking Murdock's vital signs. "Let's do this as quickly as possible so we can set him up somewhere where I can keep a close eye on him."
Richter carefully removed the tape from Murdock's chest and disconnected the heart monitor. Murdock was already shrouded in a thin sheen of perspiration and shivering slightly. "His body is very weak, he is reacting badly to Phenobarbital. He shouldn't be having the side effects so soon." Richter grabbed his brief case and started emptying the contents of the medicine cabinet into it. He approached the bed again. "When you bring him out, keep the saline bag elevated, so you don't stop the flow. I hope you know what you're doing Colonel Smith."
Hannibal gave him a confident stare. "When it comes to my men Doc, I always come through." He lost the glint in his eye as looked down at Murdock. He didn't come through for him and he knew it. He let him down...*I left him behind..* he thought, suddenly weighed down with guilt.
"I'll make that call.." Richter said quickly, recognizing the sadness and remorse in Colonel's eyes. *We are all going to need a good therapist by the time this is over* he thought.
Hannibal nodded as Richter handed him his beeper and left. The plan was for Richter to page Hannibal when the van pulled up. Hannibal would then charge the Sergeant guarding Murdock's room and make a mad dash for the elevator. Face would be waiting downstairs ready to provide the cover fire, so they could make their escape.
*Okay,* Hannibal thought to himself. *It's not one of my best laid plans, but going in through the front door usually works, it only stands to reason that leaving through the front door would too...I hope.*
After twenty minutes, the beeper sounded. He took a deep breath and wheeled the gurney into the hallway ready for anything. To his surprise, the Sergeant was gone. Taking note of the five empty paper cups, the sergeant had too much coffee and was probably in the bathroom. With a disappointed sigh, he continued on to the elevator. He had been looking forward to kicking in some heads to relieve a little of his anger and frustration.
On the elevator, he obscured the Captain's face as much as he could, using a sheet. Then he re-adjusted his disguise before reaching the hospital lobby.
As he stepped off the elevator, he came face to face with Colonel Decker and Captain Crane. Captain Crane stepped aside and Decker held open the door for the orderly to wheel his patient off.
"Thank you kindly sir," Hannibal smiled as he passed by.
Decker absently nodded and continued his conversation with the Captain...."and I know Smith will come, and when he does, I'll be ready..." The elevator doors closed.
Hannibal turned and eyed the fire alarm. A worried sigh came from a blond orderly standing by the administration desk, as he recognized the unmistakable gleam in Hannibal's eyes.
"No Hannibal, we're home fr...."
Before Face could finish his sentence, Hannibal pulled the handle. Above the bellowing alarms, was the sound of the elevator coming to a screeching halt.
Hannibal chuckled wishing he could see Decker's face. He eyed the red emergency telephone ringing by the the elevator, and pulled a cigar from his inside pocket.
"No Hannibal." Face warned, as if he were scolding a child.
Hannibal picked up the receiver." Maintenance."
"Yes, this is colonel Colonel Decker of the US Army. My Captain and I, are stuck in the elevator between the second and third floor. Can you send someone up right away?"
Hannibal grinned, and put on one of his favorite voices. "Uh, Colonel..Decker, did you say? Listen Colonel, maintenance in on lunch right now, union and all. You and your Captain hold tight, and we should have you out of there in about a half hour to forty five minutes...."
"Forty five minutes?!" Decker yelled. "You listen to me mister. We are here on official military business, and..."
"Official military business you say? In that case, an hour..."
"You are interfering with the United States Army! You could be brought up on charges for this, and will if I have anything to say about it!"
"Right Colonel. I have to go now...lunch is getting cold."Hannibal hung up the phone and smiled at Face, who stared back in disbelief. "Hey, at least I waited for the doors to close," he grinned, very pleased with himself.
Face shook his head and wheeled Murdock out to the van. BA's sobering expression, quickly turned Hannibal's attention back to the business at hand, and he helped to load Murdock into the van.
In the elevator, Crane turned to Decker. "Colonel, you don't think..."
Decker sneered. "Smith."
Face and Richter sat in the back of the van softly discussing Murdock, and what to expect over the next few days, weeks, and even months. Face gripped Murdock's hand and silently prayed, as Richter explained what changes to expect, as he healed.
"Anger, pain and fear are natural responses. He should be encouraged to express them openly. Don't treat him as a victim. See him as strong and courageous for trying to overcome a severe trauma. Loss of the ability to concentrate, unable to eat and sleep...or even to stop crying, are very common. Also expect to see changes in his relationships as he heals, it won't be any easier for all of you to get through this, than it is for him. The most important thing is that he knows all of you support him. He will get through this," He said with determination.
As little bits of the conversation carried to the front seat, BA's upper lip trembled and he gripped the steering wheel tight trying to control his anger. He had had a hard enough time dealing with it happening to Face in the POW camps in 'NAM, but that was a different kind of enemy. A faceless enemy that had no name. It wasn't personal, it was war and the only solace to be found was in getting out alive. He didn't know if he could handle the situation again, or what it would do to Murdock. What it was doing to the team. The only thing he was sure of was that this time, the enemy had a name, and Mulligan was going to pay for hurting them.
Hannibal's mind was pretty much in the same place. Now confident Murdock was out of immediate danger, he was silently plotting Patrick Mulligan's fate. It wasn't going to be quick, and it wasn't going to be painless. It was going to be the release of fifteen years of the hidden nightmares of war. All the knowledge he had acquired to survive in 'Nam, over 1000 different ways to maim and kill were at his disposal, and were all going to be put to use against their enemy. This time, there would be no mercy.
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