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This page last viewed: 2017-09-17 and has been viewed 3520 times
When Darkness Falls
Rating: NC-17 (references to torture and m/m non cons sex)
Summary: Nightmares are haunting a member of the team. How real can they be? Will he have the courage to overcome them?
Author's note: Anything in italics is in the dream world.
Warning: **This story contains violence and suggestion of rape between two or males. If this isn't your cup of tea, DON'T READ IT!!**
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Darkness, the kind that seems to swallow you whole, consuming you for itself. His dream was a canvas of unyielding night. Dream fingers touched dream eyes to see if they were really open. To his amazement, they were. He took a cautious step forward, afraid that the spot he stood on was the only solidity in this nightmare. He wasn't falling, so he continued on.
Thunder, the forsaken hoof beats of the devil's chariot, exploded all around him. The black gave way to red, brilliant flashes. He began to run towards them, thankful for the change in the dream scape...until he remembered where they led him.
The line between reality and fantasy can be tricky. It can easily be blurred to seem the opposite of what it really is. His nightmare had been a reality once, so who's to say that it couldn't be just as real as it had the first time he had experienced it? Too many philosophical questions, to much time to think. Stop over-analyzing everything. It all leads to the same place.
The bamboo huts were burning quickly. Artillery fire shattered the silence of a peaceful night until it echoed with the sounds of Hell's fury. Smoke whispered through the street, expanding into every corner until you couldn't see two feet in any direction. Worst of all were the screams. Some were in fear, others in death. Cries of pain and suffering caused him to run into his bunk with his hands over his ears trying in vain to block out the sounds.
His bunkmate looked up from stuffing his duffel. His blond hair swung in his eyes. Templeton "Faceman" Peck had been labeled pretty- boy the minute he had landed in Vietnam. That image had managed to help save the team time and time again. He could get in places others couldn't, and it helped that he was one of the best con-men Murdock had ever known. "Hannibal's issued the order to withdraw. The VC are closing in from all sides. Move it, Murdock, we're leaving."
Murdock knew this dream all to well. It called to him at least three nights a week. It always ended the same. He and Face would take the chopper towards the new rendezvous point while Hannibal and B.A. drove the Jeep. Two miles from the destination, the sound of machine gun fire would cut through the dense jungle. Controlling the chopper was like trying to tame a wild stallion, it took time and patience. Murdock couldn't afford either. Viet Cong, waiting for their new prize, would round them up and take them to the to the POW camp. The memories of the gang rape cause his sleeping body to rip the sheets from his bed. Sweat would run off him in rivers as he relived the sexual abuse he and Face had suffered at the hands of his captors. Face would look skeletal from the malnourishment, hovering over him on the cot telling him to hold on. He'd push sweaty locks of Murdock's hair out of his eyes on July 4th. He remembered the day only because the VC had raped him and beaten him close to the point of death. They'd taunted him about independence. They swore he'd never know what freedom was again. He was dragged back to the small room and left to bleed. Then he would wake up screaming from the dream as blackness overtook his mind again. Everything that had happened in the prison camp after that was gone, just a black hole where insanity had decided to grant him peace from reality. He "awoke" two weeks later in a psychiatric hospital in the far south of Vietnam.
"Murdock! We have to go now!" yelled Face, grabbing his duffel and heading out of the bunkhouse.
Murdock looked down at his hands, clenched in anger at having to relive this in his dreams. "NO! I won't loose it again! I will not go back to that camp!"
He ran out of the tent and into the crowded streets of the village. He fought the surge of villagers until he was standing before the army of VC. He took a deep breath, confronting the ghosts of the men who took his sanity. Their faces were inhuman. Their eyes were dark pools of nothingness. Their skin seemed translucent, but the air sparked with hatred and malice as Murdock stood before them.
"You've hurt me enough! This is my god damn dream and I'm not running this time! Go back to hell!"
As the final words spilled out of his mouth, a loud explosion shook the dreamworld. All the memories began to run together like dripping paint, it swirled into a tiny point in the distance, and disappeared.
The dream Murdock fell to his knees. "I win."
Face looked up from the other twin bed in the hotel room. He saw the small smile play across Murdock's face. He watched him roll over and snuggle down into the bed.
"Only sweet dreams, Captain Murdock." Face closed his eyes and prayed for a dream of free flight and sunny skies for his best friend. This was the first time in month's Murdock hadn't woken up from a nightmare screaming for help. Maybe he had truly beaten them this time. Maybe for once Murdock's ghosts and demons would stay buried in the past and forgotten in the future. He deserved that much...they all did.
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