Chapter Text
As the smoke clears and the plane's engines power down, Hannibal and Murdock exchange relieved looks. Murdock gives him a thumbs up.
“Everyone all right back there?” Hannibal calls. There is no reply.
He glances at Murdock and gets up gingerly from his seat. He’ll have bruises tomorrow.
When he enters the cabin he sees BA, still out cold, but it takes him a second longer to locate Face. Then he sees him, slumped against the far wall, his head at an odd angle.
Hannibal blinks.
Behind him, Murdock groans as if the sound is being ripped from him, and he pushes past Hannibal. Hannibal wants to follow but the plane door is rattling like something's trying to get in. A scrabbling. Claws on metal.
Murdock is shouting and now BA is waking up, but instead of going to them Hannibal walks over to the window, moving like he’s in some kind of fugue state. A dark form is throwing itself against the glass. He opens the door and it bounds in, knocking him to the ground, something huge and black.