Title: The Closet

Summary: A what happened next for the episode Mind Games.

Warnings: Spoilers for Mind Games

Face bolted upright in his bed and stifled the scream that threatened to escape. Feeling the bile rise in his throat, he covered his mouth with his hands and barely made it to the bathroom in time.

He flushed the bowl and sat down hard on the tile floor. Sweating and shaking, he held his head in his hands and let the tears flow.

It had hurt when he found out the pardon was false; that he had been played for a fool. It had hurt even more when he came face to face with General Chow again. But, what hurt the most was facing the guys and trying to amend the damage he had done. They had actually been quite tolerant of him through the whole ordeal, never saying "I told you so" or trying to make him feel worse than he did. They knew he was quite capable of beating himself up enough on his own.

Early that morning, they laughed as Face had been put into a straight jacket and carted off to the ambulance instead of Murdock. Face protested and put up a fight, but truth be told, it was all for show. He figured he deserved it as much as they deserved a chance to have a little fun at his expense.

What was meant to be a harmless joke, however, had repercussions for the con man that nobody could have predicted.

It was no laughing matter for Face when hours later he was still in a straight jacket locked inside a storage closet in the VA. When the orderlies had realized they had returned without Murdock, they stuck him there until they could figure out what was really going on. Unfortunately, they were so preoccupied with finding their real charge, that they completely forgot about Face.

Sweat poured down his face, but he was unable to wipe it away with his arms pinned down. His muscles ached and his heart pounded wildly in his chest. It was hot and dark and he was finding it harder and harder to breathe. The longer he sat there unable to move, the more panicked he became. The last time he had been restrained like this was back in the camps. He knew that this wasn't the same thing, but the feelings came flooding back just the same.

Finally, he heard a key in the lock and the door opened to find a very nervous looking orderly on the other side. The young man hurriedly undid Face's restraints mumbling something about how he could lose his job over this. But Face didn't care nor did he plan on waiting around long enough to find out about his employment status.

As soon as he was free he stumbled out the door and fled for the exit as fast as his shaky legs would carry him. He didn't stop running until he was safely off the property and out of site. He collapsed to his knees and started to vomit repeatedly as if trying to purge the memories from his mind.

When the nausea subsided, Face pulled himself up and started walking. In his hurry to escape, he hadn't even noticed how dark it was outside. He glanced at his watch to see it was nearing 10:00pm, meaning it had been over 12 hours since he had been apprehended. It had felt so much longer.

It was near midnight by the time Face paid the taxi cab driver and entered the posh apartment building he had been staying at. Riding the elevator up to his penthouse suite, he felt dizzy and weak. He hoped the others had left by now or at least that they were sleeping if they had decided to stay.

To his dismay, he opened the door to find his three very awake teammates staring at him.

"It's about time, Facey. We were starting to get worried about you," Murdock smiled.

"Yeah?" Face questioned listlessly.

"Yeah, man," B.A. chided, "Took you long enough to break outta that joint. You must be losin' your touch."

"Must be," Face said looking down at the ground.

Hannibal didn't like the sound of his Lieutenant's voice. "C'mon Face, you can't be angry at us. You have to admit that you had it coming to you."

Face looked up, but didn't make eye contact with any of the men. "I know I did," he said sadly. "But I didn't think they would do that to me."

"Whatcha' talkin' about, fool?"

"What are you talking about, Face?" Hannibal reiterated. "Do what to you?"

"Never mind," he quickly said. He had already caused them enough trouble; he would deal with the consequences on his own. And it was just a joke…they meant no harm.

Murdock stood up and started walking toward his best friend, but stopped short as Face backed away. "What exactly happened after you left here, Muchacho?"

Face shuddered violently and reached out for the wall to keep him upright. "Nothing. I'm just really tired."

Hannibal, Murdock and B.A. stared at Face slowly walking toward his bedroom unsure what to do.

Face turned around before disappearing into the room and said in a small voice, "I really am sorry, you know…about everything…really sorry."

And now he sat there in the on the bathroom floor in the middle of the night…or early morning…wondering how things could go from so good to so bad in such a short period of time.

Just the day before he was Templeton Peck, free man and media darling. He let the whole thing go to his head; he acted like a first-class jerk and it embarrassed him to even think about it. He had wanted that pardon so badly that it clouded his judgment; the con-man had been conned.