Dull. The room was dull, to say the least. There were no windows, just four walls, a ceiling and a floor. The one and only door was well disguised. Normally, even a well-disguised door would have been no problem for the figure curled up in a ball on the floor in the room. Normally.

After the war, Hogan and the unsung heroes were finally freed from Stalag 13 and, after a short stay in London proper, they were allowed to go their own way. The others had each offered to bring Newkirk with them, with LeBeau to France, or with Hogan, Kinch, or Carter to the States.

Peter Newkirk resolutely refused.

Newkirk was determined to go back to Stepney and find out what had happened while he was gone. What he found... or rather didn’t find, tore apart his world.

His sister Mavis had been killed in one of the last bombings.

Peter wandered the streets aimlessly immediately after. Eventually a good Samaritan decided to take him in and try to help. Things had gone fine... until someone said the name Mavis and Peter brought down a rain of fists on the pour soul who had no idea what they had even said to enrage the lost young man.

Peter was taken to the recently re-opened Maudsley Hospital in South London.

And this was the place where the heroes made an impromptu gathering. Hogan had gotten word from London about Newkirk’s breakdown and contacted Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau. They dropped everything to see what they could do for their fallen friend.

They congregated in the lobby initially as Hogan went to the front desk to inquire about Newkirk. The clerk initially denied their visit, but Hogan managed to talk their way in.

However, they could only visit one at a time.

They all agreed that Hogan should try first. An orderly opened the door after telling Hogan to knock when he was ready to exit.

Hogan stepped into the room. The door closed softly behind him. He turned and could barely make out the outline of the door. He sighed and turned. What he saw absolutely floored him.

Peter Newkirk was curled up tightly on the floor, still in his RAF blues, with an unlit cigarette stuck between his lips. His eyes were open but stared at seemingly nothing.

Hogan forgot how to breathe in that moment. When he finally remembered, it came out in a rush. “Oh, Peter...” He had been warned not to touch Newkirk, just in case. Hogan walked over and sat down on the floor in front of him. He listened to Newkirk’s noisy breathing... as it got noisier. Hogan slowly reached a hand over and gently rested it on Newkirk’s shoulder.

“Peter... I know there’s nothing I could say that would fix this...” Hogan paused and sighed. “All I can do is tell you that I’m here and the others are here, too. They wouldn’t let all of us come in together. I might be able to persuade them otherwise, but I didn’t wanna push things on our first visit.” A grin had crept on Hogan’s face as he said this, but it quickly disappeared when he received no response from Newkirk. Actually, he barely even blinked...

“I’m so sorry this happened, Peter. The war was... hell. There’s no two ways about it. As you’d say, the war was bloody hell,” Hogan said, skipping any attempt at an accent. He gently rubbed Newkirk’s shoulder. “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’ll keep talking as though you can. I always kept talking even when I knew you weren’t listening.” Hogan shook his head. “If you’d actually been in my command, I’d have written you up for insubordination about a hundred times over the handful of years we worked together, rescuing all those people, getting them out of Germany and over to London.”

Hogan paused... and watched Newkirk blink. Suddenly, the lead in Hogan’s gut disintegrated. He allowed himself a small smile. “We did a lot of good at the camp, but we made a lot of sacrifices too. We all could have left at some point. Yeah, we could’ve left...” Hogan paused, briefly wondering if this was the right direction to go in. He decided to go full speed ahead. “We could have left, instead of sacrificing our own time with our families and friends. Maybe this isn’t the humblest thing to say, but who in their right minds would have taken over for us if we’d left? Would the war have even gone the way it did without us? We might still be fighting... we might have even lost.” He sighed... and earned another blink.

“Peter, I know you’re in there. I know you can hear me.” Hogan paused and chose his next words carefully. “I’m very sorry about what happened to Mavis.” He paused, watching Newkirk intently.

Newkirk blinked... then blinked again... then his eyes closed.

Shit, Hogan thought to himself, thinking he’d driven Newkirk further into his own head. He was about to start talking again when Newkirk’s eyes opened. Hogan recognized those eyes this time. That deep blue color, although muted by emotion. “Peter?” he whispered, softly, so as to not scare him.

“Guv...” Peter croaked, then blinked a couple times in succession. The unlit cigarette fell from his lips... then he rolled onto his back, knees bent with his feet planted flat on the floor. His hands went to his face as he began sobbing unabashedly.

Hogan rubbed his shoulder again. “I’m here, Peter. The other guys are all here, too. They’re waiting outside, but we won’t do anything until you say you’re ready. You just tell me when.”

-HH-

It took nearly a half hour before Hogan was able to get Newkirk on his feet. Sitting up had taken only about five minutes so that Newkirk wouldn’t drown himself in tears. Or so Hogan had commented with a smirk. It had tugged at the corner of Newkirk’s mouth, but it stopped as quickly as it appeared.

Now, Hogan stood beside Newkirk, holding his arm around his shoulders. Hogan could feel him shaking but said nothing about it. “You’re absolutely ready to do this?” Hogan asked, not wanting to overwhelm him.

Newkirk took a long moment to reply to the point where Hogan started to wonder if this was a good idea. Finally, Newkirk nodded. “Ready.”

Slowly, Hogan helped Newkirk to the hidden door, then rapped his knuckles three times in quick succession. The door was opened and the orderly gasped.

“Everything’s okay,” Hogan said. He kept ahold of Newkirk’s arm around his shoulders and put his own arm around Peter’s waist. This earned Hogan another twitch of his lips, which then settled back to the usual pout he wore. Hogan had to admit, he missed that look.

With careful steps, they made it out to the waiting room where the other three were. Kinch and Carter were sitting and LeBeau had been pacing. LeBeau’s eyes widened, and his mouth opened... and that’s as far as he got as Kinch’s hand clamped over his mouth. Hogan nodded to Kinch his thanks. The last thing Hogan wanted was for even the slightest thing to set off Newkirk, simply including a noise that was too loud. Carter had moved beside Kinch, grinning big.

“Gentlemen, I think Peter has something he’d like to say,” Hogan said, then looked Newkirk in the eye. “Go ahead.”

Newkirk finally turned his gaze from Hogan to the trio waiting. He licked dry lips, then pursed his lips briefly. He finally spoke softly, “Anyone up... for a game... of Gin?”

-HH-End-HH-