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Chapter Text

Hannibal and B.A. were holding off the guards as Face went for the cells. Decker had apparently not been kidding when he'd said he'd wanted to put Murdock into the deepest, darkest, most remote padded cell he could find. It had taken six long weeks, but they'd finally found their teammate and now they were here to free him.

As he started to pick the lock, Face called through the door.

"Murdock? Murdock, we're here, buddy. Sorry it took us so long."

The voice coming back gave him the chills. It wasn't much more than a whisper, but it was a whisper that carried. Still it sounded so weak. Far too weak.

"Faceman. I knew you would come. I never gave up. I never told. I never told them anything. Not even when they promised that the hurting would stop if I told. Not even when they told me I could have food again if I told. I didn't tell."

"We know you didn't, buddy."

"Funny thing, they could have gotten me to tell. If they had just said that they would let me see the sky again one last time. I never wanted anything so badly as to feel the sun again. Face?"

"Shh – Murdock. Save your strength. You'll see the sky again real soon, buddy. I've almost got – there!"

The click of the lock gave way to his skills and Face swung open the door to check on his best friend – and saw him lying on a filthy mattress on a filthier floor curled up with his back to him. The whole area was foul. An open hole for a latrine. Dead animals here and there. The stench made the lieutenant retreat a step as his eyes adjusted. Holding a cloth over his mouth to try and filter out some of the odor, Face reached out and took hold of the familiar battered jacket.

"Come on, let's get you out of here."

"I knew you'd come - I just wish you could have made it a little sooner."

Tugging on the jacket made Murdock roll over suddenly and the lieutenant found himself within inches of skin writhing with maggots - staring terrified into the empty eye sockets of the obviously dead pilot. But still he heard the whispered voice.

"I trusted you with my life... where is it?"

Face sat bolt upright, sweat covering every inch of his body as he woke up both Hannibal and B.A. with his screaming.

Chapter Text

It was supposed to have been a simple trip for supplies. Face and Murdock would go to the small town while B.A. and Hannibal handled some needed repairs on the van. Just a simple trip - there and back. Shouldn't have taken more than an hour, start to finish. Don't draw attention - they knew that Decker was somewhere in the area. But then, there was the redhead.

The local store had a stunning redhead as the cashier. Putting a stunning redhead (or blonde - or brunette) in front of Face was like dangling a shiny yo-yo in front of Murdock. You knew that even if they knew they should leave it alone, they were going to play with it. The store wasn't busy and Face soon lost track of time as he flirted and she volleyed his flirts back like a pro.

Murdock, quite naturally, became bored rather quickly. This wasn't the first - or even the hundredth - woman that he'd seen Face turn the charm on to. He tried and failed to get Face's attention to the time and gave up, deciding that Billy really needed to be taken for a walkie any way.

Honestly, what Murdock wanted to do was look at the sky. There wasn't much that made him happier than just to feel the sun on his face and look at the wild blue yonder. Those things that did make him happier were the amazing vehicles in their numerous guises that he could fly to take him up into the midst of his beloved sky.

If anyone else had been with Murdock, they might have noticed that something was fishy. A little too deliberate. A little too focused. But a van claiming to have a traveling exhibit of the famous Air Force Thunderbirds? That was way too much temptation for Murdock. He'd been a member of that demonstration squadron in years past - a Thunderbird pilot. Flying that screaming F-4E Phantom was still a vivid memory and one memory that he wouldn't mind reliving if only through a few scale models and photographs.

Decker was disappointed that the Captain was apparently all by himself when the trap was sprung, but spitefully pleased to have his hands on the pilot that had helped spoil so many of his attempts to recapture Smith and his misfits.

Murdock did not go peacefully, he went as loudly as he could manage in an attempt to warn Face not to show himself. Pulling out all the stops, Murdock broke down and wept about having been abandoned by his so-called friends. B.A. had given the other two an ultimatum - the Colonel and the Lieutenant had chosen for Baracus to remain and allowed B.A. to, quite literally, throw the pilot out.

Anyone that knew the team well enough to know the strong but peculiar bond between Murdock and B.A. would have known it for the lie it was. Decker, however, bought it.

Keeping out of Decker's sight range wasn't easy, but Face felt compelled to get a look at the Captain as he was forced into a strait jacket. It seemed like something in him touched Murdock, because he turned his head and looked directly at him. A smile broke out on his face despite the rough treatment. Face recognized that look. It was that trusting look that said 'I know you'll come for me - I know you'll get me back'. Then he lost sight of Murdock as he was forced into a car and driven away.

That look had choked him. Made him want to throw up. If he'd just gotten the supplies and left immediately, Murdock wouldn't be gone.

He couldn't have told anyone how he made it back to Hannibal and B.A. that afternoon. Face wished they'd scream at him. Hit him. Hell, maybe even take a potshot at him. But they didn't. Hannibal just looked sort of stunned. And B.A. was so mad, that he went quiet. Face had never known just how terrifying utter silence from the Sergeant could be until then.

Finally, B.A. stalked over to him and Face braced himself for the blow that he was sure would break his jaw. But B.A. didn't hit him. He put his massive hands onto Face's shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes.

"I ain't gonna tell you what a damn fool stupid thing you done. You know. And I ain't gonna hit you. I am gonna tell you this though. My momma's birthday is nine weeks from now. Murdock promised her that he was gonna go there and spend an entire week with her. You are gonna find him and we are gonna get him back or you are gonna be the one to go to Chicago in nine weeks. And then you gonna stand in front of my momma and tell her why her Baby ain't coming."

Then B.A. released Face's shoulders and stomped off, leaving a trembling conman in his wake. He couldn't bring himself to look up into the Colonel's eyes. Swallowing hard, Face spoke very softly.

"I think I would have preferred it if he'd hit me."

Hannibal's tone was tinged with sympathy.

"He knows that, son. That's why he's not going to do it."

Chapter Text

His heartbeat was just about fast enough to rival a humming bird's. For the entire first week, they hadn't allowed him out of the strait jacket which meant he was raw and chaffed in places he would have really rather not have been. Plus now, he'd been in this room for a week. Maybe? Possibly. Murdock really wasn't sure anymore.

Decker had brought him here and handed over papers supposedly signed by his mother. Obviously no-one was bothering to look at his records since his mother had died back before he'd even started elementary school. Then Decker had leaned close and whispered to him that pretty soon he was going to be too crazy to even remember his own name, let alone how to fly. Oh, Murdock had paid for it, but head-butting Decker in the nose had been so worth it. Even if breathing with cracked ribs hurt. So very worth it.

They'd given him a shot. He'd managed to see the label of the bottle they used to fill the syringe, so he was able to fake how he knew they were going to expect him to act. He'd told Face about the drugs they'd used on him. He didn't mention that they'd used so many so often that his body had actually built a tolerance to them. To some degree. They still affected him, of course. But not as hard and not for as long. No sense in letting these bozos know that.

The room was? Well, what it was, he couldn't quite answer because he'd never seen it with the lights on. Something that seemed like tatami mats covered the floors. No windows. The smell had led him to the box over a hole that was the closest thing he had to a toilet - apparently, someone had taken a test crap in it.

He wasn't even 100% sure where the door was. There were no handles on his side of it. It had been opened to put him in and so far as he knew, it hadn't been opened again unless he was asleep at the time. He was wearing nothing but boxers and a t-shirt - they even taken his hat. Cut his hair to what they used to call a boot camp buzz. He never had cared for a buzz cut. Not that they cared. Or if they did care, they only cared because they wanted to annoy him.

It was hot in here as well. He would wake up and catch a scent and find where a pair of bowls had been shoved in somehow. Rice in one, warm flat water in the other. He learned to be careful after the first day. He hadn't been expecting a bowl of water and he had spilled most of it. In a hot room, when you only get water once a day, you have to be careful with it.

He'd almost had another accident with his water today. He'd just picked up the bowl to take a sip when he heard soft voices speaking in Vietnamese and nearly dropped it. Did these people know he spoke Vietnamese? Really, if they weren't bright enough to figure out that his mother was long dead, how would they pick up on the languages he could understand?

Part of him didn't want to listen, but the voices were the only thing to listen to in here. Other than his own racing thoughts and they were occasionally going to fast for him to catch.

~Look - it is the crazy one.~

~Is he dangerous?~

~No. He has been here so long that he no longer even remembers where here is.~

~Is it true that he thinks he travels around freely with a group of other soldiers?~

~Very true. I myself have heard him having conversations with his ghosts.~

~Ghosts?~

~Yes. All the men he speaks of are long dead. Sergeant Baracus died in the helicopter crash that allowed us to capture the crazy one. Lieutenant Peck died in the crazy one's arms of a some fever after they had been here some five years. Colonel Smith shot himself to evade capture.~

~He had been here five years when his last teammate died? How long ago was that?~

~Many years. Fifteen? Sixteen? Who knows?~

~Why do we even bother to keep him any more? What good is he if his team is dead and his country no longer remembers him?~

~Because he amuses us.~

He swallowed a sip of the water. If what they were saying was true, he'd never left Vietnam. All of his life - all of the good times and adventures with the team were all just some concoction his mind had devised to escape from his bleak surroundings. The sky. God, how he wanted his sky back.

Sticking his fingers into the pasty rice, he ate slowly. Methodically. No. He'd believe in his dreams even if that was all they were. The guys were real. The guys were alive. The guys would come for him.

He just hoped he'd still be here when they got here. Otherwise they'd just be rescuing a body that happened to bear some resemblance to him. He took a deep breath.

"My name is HM Murdock. Mi nombre es HM Murdock. Mein Name ist HM Murdock. Menya zovut HM Murdock. Wo de mingzi shi HM Murdock. Ten toi la HM Murdock. Watahsi no namae wa HM Murdock."

He closed his eyes for a moment. No Decker, I will not forget my own name, you sorry excuse for an officer. Please God - I've never asked for much. But please? Five minutes alone in a room with Decker. Pretty please?

Murdock took another breath and began whispering as fervently as a prayer.

"They are alive - they will come for me. Estan vivos - ellos vendran por me..."

Chapter Text

To say that it had been a tense three weeks for Face was a vast understatement. There were no jokes, no light-hearted moments of camaraderie. The worst was at the very beginning of the week when the phone call came from Mrs. Baracus.

"You boys are going to tell me what is wrong – and don't even try to tell me nothing is wrong. Whether he told you about it or not, Baby calls me once a week, not always at the same time, of course, but at least once a week. It's been too long – he's never gone this long without calling me even if he only says three words."

B.A. had just passed the phone to Face, who went deathly pale. He kept the story minimal, but even so, she was sobbing into the phone when he finished. B.A. had glared at him the rest of that day after that. Actually, it was rare Face got anything but a glare from him anymore. Hannibal asked for updates every time he went anywhere, but that was hardly the easy banter that Face was used to. And missed. Even though he was rarely alone, Face had never felt so isolated in his life.

Even worse, Decker was trying to make Murdock cease to exist. He had removed all of Murdock's records from the VA. Then came the day that Face actually did have to leave the room and throw up. He had come across a file on Murdock that had just recently been relabeled to flag Murdock as still being MIA in Vietnam.

That was the final shove. That was when Face crossed the divide over from wanting to kick himself to being angry. Oh, not at B.A. or Hannibal. Or even himself, although he really didn't like himself a lot right now. Decker. His anger landed on Decker and stuck there. Murdock hadn't been wanted for arrest. Okay, sure - maybe Face could have - should have - done some things differently, but this was Decker's fault. Decker had kidnapped his best friend, dammit.

Once Face had his mind clicked into that frame, both B.A. and Hannibal noted the difference immediately. And they both responded by treating him more the way they used to. That puzzled Face at first and then made him feel ashamed when it occurred to him that they had been mad because he'd been focused more on himself than on Murdock. Now that his head was back in team mode, the team embraced him back. Briefly he wondered why the Colonel hadn't just pointed it out to him, but after thinking about it, he knew why. He was the conman. If they had told him how they were expecting him to act, he would automatically have done it just to ease the tension. But it wouldn't have been sincere and he might never have had his little epiphany.

Things started to fall into place after that. Instead of trying to track Murdock, he started tracking Decker. Or, more precisely, back-tracking Decker. That was when he came across a tiny blurb in a file that he had very nearly passed over has having nothing to do with anything. A so-called research program aimed at trying to determine what a repeat of past stress would do to someone. Rejected by the military – now funded privately. Decker was one of those providing 'technical assistance'.

Now he knew what, but he had to find out where. This program was way off the radar. One evening, Hannibal came up to him and, after a little hesitation, placed a bottle in his hand. Sleeping pills? He glanced up with a puzzled expression. The Colonel wondered when the last time was that Face had looked in a mirror.

"Face, you haven't slept more than two hours at a time since he was taken. You have the razzle-dazzle skills to get to the information we need. But you can't do it if you're asleep on your feet, Lieutenant."

"It's hard to sleep, sir. Every time I close my eyes, I see him looking at me. Believing in me."

"You'll make more progress with a rested brain. We'll find him. He believes in you - have a little of that belief in yourself."

Yes – we'll find him. But what if I can't do this fast enough? What if I'm too late? What if it's already too late? They've already had him for three weeks.

That night was the first of Face's nightmares. After he woke up screaming, he pulled the bottle back out from the drawer he'd stuffed it into and took the recommended number of pills. Sliding into a dreamless sleep, he didn't wake up again for twelve hours.

Chapter Text

"Chiisa na sekai!"

He was a little hoarse, but who wouldn't be after singing 'It's a Small World' in every language he could think of for the past three days? Heck, Murdock could even sing it in Italian and he didn't even speak Italian. He had spent most of one day going on that ride in Disney World though. Never had figured out why everyone else bailed after the one trip through. Catchy tune. Very catchy tune.

Murdock was convinced now that the only voices he heard, the ones in Vietnamese, were just recordings done elsewhere. If they hadn't have been, surely by the second day of singing the multi-lingual tune, somebody would have yelled 'im lang' at him – at least once. Not that he would have shut up, mind you, but surely someone would have yelled it. B.A. would have threatened to punch him after just one chorus.

Thankfully he wasn't scared of the dark or he'd have been clawing at the walls weeks ago… or months ago? Sighing, he sang another chorus softly in Japanese. When it is always dark and there's nothing resembling a schedule or even a break of routine, time was just a bowl of bland, sticky rice. Such as his daily meal. He had to start limiting the amount of movement he allowed himself because he was dropping weight. He hadn't exactly had extra weight to start with. He was also acutely aware of how badly day after day in the hot, humid room had made him smell. One bowl of water wasn't really even enough for his thirst, so using any of it to wash with wasn't even a consideration. Just as well that it was always dark – what little clothing he had was likely beyond nasty, but even though he was by himself in the dark, he didn't care for the thought of not wearing anything.

Running a hand over his head, he judged from the amount his hair had grown that he'd been in here at least three weeks. Maybe more, but not over two months. His hair wasn't long enough for that. No sweat. The guys were coming. It hadn't been as long as it felt like. They were just having trouble locating him. That was all. They were alive. They wouldn't abandon him here. Not in a place where they wouldn't even let him look at the sky.

The voices were back again. He had counted four different conversations that were replayed periodically. All variations on the same theme. The guys were dead. He was still in 'Nam. He was nuttier than a squirrel's winter food supply. The meanest one was the one that mocked that he used to be a pilot but he had flown his last chopper.

He wondered if anyone was listening in on him. He almost hoped they were.

A tiny smile formed on his face and he began the familiar tune once more, this time in German.

Chapter Text

A whoop was not a normal sound to be associated as coming from Lieutenant Templeton Peck, so it was a sound that brought B.A. out from under the van and Hannibal away from running checks on their gear. When they got a look at Face, they knew before he told them.

"I've found his location!"

Smiles – real, genuine smiles – were on every member of the team for the first time in five weeks.

"Good work, Lieutenant. You're positive?"

"If I'm wrong, I will willingly join the priesthood and swear an oath of chastity."

B.A. smirked.

"Yeh - he's sure."

Face pointed them to the map he had spread out.

"Wisconsin, gentlemen. Decker has been trekking to this area twice a week since the kidnapping. Anybody in here have any doubts that he's going there to gloat? And here? Here is the location of a little privately owned research firm out in the literal middle of nowhere with ties to Decker. Nothing for miles around but pasture and dairy cows."

Using the red marker in his hand, Face circled the spot.

"Decker is paying a visit there today. If he keeps up with the pattern he's already established, he'll be back again on Tuesday."

Hannibal leaned on the table.

"Not counting today or Tuesday, that gives us three days. B.A. - van ready to go?"

"If she was any readier, she'd be driving herself, Colonel."

"That's what I like to hear. Face, give me a hand finishing up our gear and let's get loaded. I'd like to be on the road as soon as possible to give us leeway in case we run into a problem."

"Ain't gonna be no flyin', right?"

"No - no flying, Sergeant. I want our gear with us - all of it. We don't want to be missing something that we might need."

Hannibal's eyes were starting to get that sparkle and he smiled again. He'd almost forgotten how good the jazz felt.

"Lieutenant? Sergeant? Let's finish up, load the van and get rolling. I think the time has come for the A-Team to give a live demonstration to Colonel Decker about our opinion of him. Or anyone else that tries to separate us."

"Yes sir!"

They spoke in unison and Face even saluted as he moved to gather up their map. I know you can't hear me, buddy, but hang in there just a little longer, Murdock. We're coming.

Chapter Text

He had just woken and was gingerly feeling for the bowls when it dawned on Murdock that the voices were saying something new.

~Yes, it is true. The crazy one will be gone soon.~

~He has lasted many years - why do they think he will die now?~

~Because they have said to waste no more rice on him. Broth and water only.~

Just the words made his stomach give a noise in protest. Recorded or not, the voices had a point. He was already treading a thin line - hell, who was he kidding? The weight he'd already lost showed he'd crossed the line. He slipping, not treading. He was starving slowly, but he was starving.

He went back to feeling for the bowls and winced as his fingers told him the truth. Liquid in both bowls - lukewarm in both cases. Once he determined which one was broth - fish broth, if he wasn't mistaken - he began to drink it down slowly. He didn't waste a single drop and even ran his tongue around the bowl as well as he could before sitting it down and making a dismissive gesture with one hand before speaking with a British accent.

"Seconds? Oh no, no, no, dear chaps. Couldn't hold another drop after that feast. Simply stuffed, you know. Just a few sips of this interesting little white wine and then we'll be off to visit with the ladies in the parlor."

That word triggered another memory and he groaned.

"Ladies. Mom. She's expecting me. I promised. It can't be that time yet though. The guys will be here before then. She'll kill them if they aren't. Or worse, she'll give them that look that sends ol' Scooter scrambling into the corner."

He formed a fist with one hand, squeezing tightly.

"Toi hu'a - con yeu me."

It took him a minute to realize that he was speaking in Vietnamese again. He hadn't meant to, but after who knew how long of that being the only language he'd heard, it seemed natural. He slowly and deliberately thought out the words in English and adding to them. "I promise - I love you, mom. I'll get there. I will."

He just laid down where he was. I have to conserve energy. I have to make it last. She'd be so upset- she was looking forward to it. We were even going to go see a game together. Are. We are going to see a game together.

His anger flared again, but briefly. Staying mad took more energy than he had to waste. But on the off-chance that anyone was listening, he took a moment to speak to them. But first he took a deep breath and reminded himself to use English.

"You guys better hope none of this upsets my mother. 'Cause if it does, my brother and I are going to take this place apart around your ears. That's a promise."

Murdock hugged himself on the floor, trying to will himself back to sleep as he muttered softly.

"And I keep my promises."

Chapter Text

Hannibal was at Face's side before the scream had finished echoing in the van. B.A. sat up as well, warily eyeing the area in case something other than a dream had made Face scream.

"Son? Are you alright?"

It took Face another moment to manage to focus on the Colonel. He drew in a shaky breath, but paused before speaking.

"Quite frankly, sir - I'm not sure I'll ever be alright again."

"Doozy of a nightmare, Lieutenant?"

"That's putting it mildly. I - we didn't make it in time. All I found was a corpse."

It didn't escape Hannibal's attention that Face had deliberately avoided using both Murdock's name and the word 'dead'. He was trying to evade the bad luck of saying it out loud. Hannibal reached out his hand and laid it on his lieutenant's head. Wasn't like his hair wasn't mussed already.

"The Captain is tough. Tougher than most give him credit for. We're getting him out today."

The next was a question he didn't want to ask. If Face gave the wrong answer to it, none of them might make it back out.

"Lieutenant? Do B.A. and I need to go in without you? If you aren't on your game, we can run this mission without you."

B.A. shot Hannibal a look at that. The odds were likely bad enough with all three of them. A man down and it might end up a suicide run. But he kept quiet and turned his attention back to Face who, to his relief, was emphatically shaking his head.

"No sir. I'm bringing him out of there. I have to. Please don't cut me out of this, Colonel."

He gave Face a light pat.

"I won't, son. So, what's the call, men? Should we try and grab a bit more sleep?"

Clearing his throat, B.A. spoke up then.

"If it's all the same to you, Colonel, I'd like to get us rolling. Maybe I can spot a place open where we can grab some coffee."

Face grabbed onto B.A.'s comment like a life preserver.

"I wouldn't mind getting closer either, sir. More time to see exactly what we're going to be dealing with to break him out."

"Let's get started then. Come to think of it, Sergeant, instead of looking for a place to grab coffee, let's look for a place to grab breakfast. We've got a busy day ahead of us and we likely won't have another chance to eat until after the mission is over."

Giving both of his teammates a grateful look, Face slid into his seat. Hannibal exchanged an amused glance with B.A. when the lieutenant began snoring softly within five minutes of their start. B.A. just shrugged.

"Maybe I can drive fast enough that the dreams don't catch him. He's the one of us that needs sleep the most any way."

The drive was thankfully uneventful and, just before dawn, B.A. pulled into the lot of what appeared to be a promising looking diner. After a good stretch, they went in and all ordered a good sized breakfast - although B.A.'s plate would have fed both Hannibal and Face. Getting their thermoses filled with coffee for later, the eastern sky was getting rosy when they headed back to the van.

Hannibal was pleased to see that the nap as they were driving followed by food had done a great deal to improve both Face's appearance and mood. One less thing to worry about.

"Alright, men - last leg of the drive. Let's get in there as close as we can and make sure the van is out of Decker's sight. Last thing we need is for him to become aware that we're wise to this location."

"You got it, Colonel."

It was less than an hour later when they caught their first glimpse of the area. Mostly flat, but B.A. spotted some old barns not far from the building they were after.

"Good thing we did start early. Might take me awhile to find a way over there, but that's the only real cover in the area, Colonel."

"Let's not waste time then, Sergeant. Any idea how long we have until Decker arrives, Face?"

"Not really, Colonel. I was able to get a reading on the days he came from his paper trail. Time is a bit trickier."

The barns proved to be just this side of falling down, but Hannibal considered that a plus since they wouldn't have to be worried about accidental damage.

"Face - I want you stationed with the field glasses. Anything moving larger than a mouse, I want to know it."

"On it, Colonel."

B.A. took a moment to look toward the building himself.

"Doesn't seem to be a lot of external security, sir."

"Doesn't particularly surprise me, Sergeant. They're probably more geared toward keeping people in than keeping people out."

Face was sweeping the area visually, but still close enough to hear.

"Colonel? I've been thinking. What if we made our move now?"

Hannibal started to say something, then stopped and pulled out a cigar. Lighting it, he moved over next to Face and borrowed the field glasses for a minute. Then his eyes slowly began to light up in that way they knew so well. Even better, when the Colonel looked from Face to B.A., he could see that same spark in their eyes. Well - seemed that the jazz was contagious that morning. Good. They might need all the edge they could get.

A car came into sight and pulled up near the building. Hannibal watched carefully for a moment, then passed the field glasses back to Face.

"They use a number pad, Colonel. The way he's standing, I can't see which ones he pressed."

"If the size of that lot is any indication, we should get more shots at it, Lieutenant. Get closer for a better angle if you need to, but don't draw attention."

Three employees arriving later, Face had the combination and Hannibal had a smile.

"I think we will go with a simple, straightforward plan. Gear up. We're going to go get our Captain back."

Chapter Text

All three men had duffels with them as they made their way from the barns to the building. B.A. picked the vehicle that was marked as the corporate van and rigged it as a distraction in case they needed it on their way out.

Hannibal waited until he was finished before going over things one last time.

"Keep in mind going in is most likely going to be a lot easier than coming out. I suspect there are underground floors and there's a good chance that's where they're holding Murdock. Phase one – B.A. – find the phone lines and cut off their communications. Phase two – as soon as B.A. rejoins us, Face, you hit the combination on the door, I'll take point in. Face follows, B.A. brings up the rear. Remember – we don't want to leave any signs that we're here at the entrance. If Decker comes up, all he should see is a normal building."

"Once we're past the entrance, we need to control and contain. That will be up to myself and B.A. – I want you to locate Murdock, Face. When you find out where he is, call us to you. We don't know what kind of condition the Captain might be in so I want us all together before we start the extraction."

B.A. decided the least obvious way to disable the phone lines was to cut them off at the junction box which didn't prove too difficult to locate. He signaled Hannibal once he was finished and they quickly made their way to the door. Not knowing if Decker might show at any minute, they didn't want to be caught mid-way when he arrived.

Wiping his hands off on his pants in an unconscious gesture that showed his nerves, Face punched the number sequence in and was rewarded with a click and buzzing noise that signaled they could enter. Opening the door, Hannibal glanced before stepping inside. As he had hoped, the small organization was counting on the security code to keep people out. How many people would want to break in to a place like this anyway? Considering the location, a casual passerby would be more likely to think the building researched a way to make a better cheese than a place that used humans for experiments.

It was past the second door that they saw the first guard with a gun. Whatever else Decker may or may not have been advising them on, security wasn't it. The man wasn't an armed guard so much as he was a guard with a gun. From the signs on the door, it looked to be the way into where Face needed to go. After a moment to run over the options, Hannibal decided they would all go into the area, bringing the guard with them and securing him on the other side. While they stayed with the guard, Face scouted ahead. B.A. looked up after leaving the man attached to an office chair.

"Colonel?"

"Yes, Sergeant?"

"You notice how new everything is?"

Actually, Hannibal admitted to himself that he honestly hadn't looked that closely at their surroundings, but once it was pointed out, he saw what B.A. was talking about.

"Does somewhat resemble an office furniture showroom, doesn't it?"

"Yes, sir – junction box outside hasn't had time to get weathered yet either. This place ain't been here long."

Face came back to the doorway, speaking softly.

"I've found our way down. Voices – three to five probably. You guys coming or staying?"

Hannibal hesitated. On one hand, he wanted to be there when they found the captain to determine his condition as well as for moral support. On the other hand, if Murdock couldn't maneuver by himself because they had him drugged up, B.A. was the one best suited to carry him out. Finally, he just gave B.A. a nod.

"Sergeant, you and the Lieutenant should be able to take care of any problems below. I'll stay here and keep an eye on our exit, but call me if you run into complications."

"Right, Colonel."

The two men started down, Face taking point and B.A. bringing up the rear again. The sounds of fighting, breaking, cursing and B.A.'s distinctive yelling all made it up to Hannibal who found himself casting more than a few glances at the door they'd gone through.

Downstairs, Face was shaking his hand slightly. That last guard's chin had been hard. The one remaining guard yelped as B.A. took a double handful of his shirt and hoisted him into the air.

"You got less than two minutes to tell us where Murdock is 'fore things get ugly."

"W – we don't have a guard named Murdock."

"Not a guard, fool. What – you don't know the names of who you got down here?"

"N-no-o-o. No names. Just file codes. And – and we only have one right now. POWSIM1."

The man yelped again as B.A.'s grip got tighter. He gave them directions as he was carried through the hall and down one more flight of stairs. As they reached the bottom, both B.A. and Face froze. While they each only knew a few words of Vietnamese, they knew it when they heard it. Opening the door at the bottom showed them a fairly large room with another much smaller room centered in it – Face estimated it was maybe a twelve foot by twelve foot square. The tape player was playing outside of it.

"Where are the keys?"

The guard paled even more, a feat that Face wouldn't have guessed to be possible.

"N-no keys."

B.A. scowled and went nose to nose with the quaking man.

"What do you mean 'no keys'? Who goes in there to take care of him?"

"Nobody goes in there. Ever. I've never even seen the door opened. Honest!"

Quickly, Face circled the cell.

"No windows either."

Cursing to himself, he turned off the tape player and pulled out his lock picking tools.

"Murdock? Murdock, we're here, buddy. Sorry it took us so long."

Suddenly, his guts twisted as it dawned on him that he had automatically repeated the exact thing he kept saying to Murdock in his nightmares. Even worse was the too soft voice he heard coming from the other side that also followed the script in his mind.

"Faceman. I knew you would come."

Chapter Text

It only took a moment for B.A. to notice that Face had stopped moving - unless you counted trembling. Continuing to cart the guard around with him, he moved to the base of the stairs and shouted up.

"Colonel! Complications!"

Hannibal winced. He was afraid there'd be complications of some sort. He took a moment to shove one of the new desks against the door, then grabbed several random objects and positioned them near the edge of the desktop. It wouldn't hold anyone back for long, but the noise from the falling objects should at least tell them that they had company coming.

That accomplished, he hurried downstairs, giving B.A. a questioning look. In answer, B.A. just motioned with his head in Face's direction. One glance was all it took to get Hannibal over to his lieutenant's side. Face nearly jumped out of his skin when the Colonel touched his shoulder.

"Easy there. Talk to me, Lieutenant."

He'd never seen Face so shaken. He soon knew why as Face began to talk quickly as if he were afraid that if he slowed down, he wouldn't be able to get it out. He told all of the details of his nightmare - and how, so far, everything was in line with that scene.

Hannibal gave his shoulder a squeeze. No wonder the kid was quaking, but they needed to get past that and quickly.

"Well, I'm changing the script as of now. Captain Murdock?"

"Colonel?"

Hannibal barely heard him through the door.

"He sounds bad, Lieutenant. Get this thing open now."

The tone was that of an order and years in the service responded in his mind, snapping Face back to reality.

"Yes, sir."

As Face got back to work, B.A. spoke up.

"This fool I got here is saying that no-one goes in that room at all. Tape player there was spouting out something in Vietnamese when we came down. Face shut it off."

That comment made Hannibal come over and eye the guard himself.

"No-one? How is he being fed? Getting water? Hell, does that thing even have a latrine?"

"I - never seen the inside. When we bring food, once we're in position, the lights are turned off. There's a hatch that we put his bowls in."

"Show us this 'hatch'."

The man made a shaky gesture and B.A. hauled him around to the backside of the cell. There, about a foot off of the floor, was a small latched door, about eight inches square. Hannibal's eyes narrowed as he examined it, then he removed his jacket to block the light as he eased it open slightly. The stench was foul and he could feel some of the heat and humidity coming through, but all he could see was darkness.

"How long are the lights in there off each day?"

The man in B.A.'s grip squirmed, but remained silent until B.A. got right in his face again.

"Unless you want to have to start partin' your hair at the back of your head to be able to blow your fool nose, you best answer the Colonel now."

The man literally squeaked out his answer.

"n-n-n-no lights."

"Excuse me?"

"There ar-r-aren't any lights in there."

The fury blazing up in Hannibal's eyes was the last straw for the guard - he fainted. Just then, Face called out.

"Finally got it, sir."

"Put the trash in the corner, Sergeant, then join us."

"With pleasure. Hey - Colonel - Murdock's stuff is back here. Everything. Pants, jacket, hat, shoes."

"Bring it with you."

Hannibal stalked back to Face's side and Face stared at the cold anger plainly visible on Hannibal's features - though thankfully, obviously not directed at him. He watched as Hannibal considered and then reconsidered what to say. B.A. had rejoined them before he actually spoke.

"We need to try and block as much of this light from going in as possible. We're going to need a strip of cloth to cover his eyes, Lieutenant. However long he's been in there, he's been in the dark. His eyes are going to need slow readjustment. Brace yourselves, men. I doubt this is going to be pleasant."

At Hannibal's nod, Face eased the door open and all three of them averted their faces as they were hit with hot, muggy air choked with the mixed odors of urine, feces and sweat. The whimper they heard wasn't a promising sound, but it was better than the silence they'd all been fearing.

B.A. stuck out his hand.

"Give me the cloth, Faceman. He's my brother now, I should carry him out."

Face didn't argue - he was, quite frankly, trying not to throw up. They couldn't see anything really, and what little they could make out was the light off of B.A.'s chains. They heard him speaking softly as if he were speaking to one of his kids at the Youth Center after they'd skinned their knee.

Following the soft glow on the chains, they saw him go down low and then slowly stand back up. Even before he turned, he spoke. The last time they'd heard B.A. use that tone was when a group of toughs had broken his mother's arm.

"Some fool is gonna die for this."

Turning around, he made his way slowly out, carrying Murdock very gingerly. When he finally got his first good look at him, Face blanched.

"Oh God, Colonel - it's worse than my dream."

That's when Face lost his fight with his stomach along with what was left of his breakfast.

Chapter Text

A very weak laugh started at the sound of Face retching. The following voice wasn't any stronger.

"I guess from the sound of that, I'm not going to be winning any beauty contests."

Hannibal carefully laid a hand on Murdock's arm.

"Well, to be truthful, you've both looked and smelled better, Captain. Take it easy. We're all here with you."

"I know. Even if you all really are just figments of my strange little brain, I'd rather have you guys than anyone real."

B.A. looked puzzled, but that really wasn't anything new considering some of the things to come out of Murdock's mouth.

The captain did look rather ghastly - Hannibal couldn't deny that. In the six weeks he'd been gone, it appeared that the pilot had lost around forty pounds. Painfully thin wasn't even a close description to how he looked. Added to that was six weeks worth of beard and hair growth plus the absence of even minimal hygiene during that same period. The hygiene issue mixed with his having had to sleep on equally dirty tatami mats had led to quite a few sores developing, about half of which were open and weeping. If there had been an open casting call right then for a zombie, Murdock could have gotten the role hands down, no makeup needed.

After a long moment of quiet, Murdock groaned, but not from pain.

"Oh man - I must really look bad. B.A. hasn't called me fool once yet."

"Didn't see the need to state the obvious right now, Crazy Man. Let's get you upstairs. Think I at least saw a sink in one of those rooms."

"Okay."

Face had recovered and wiped his mouth off, though the taste he had in it now was awful. But even so, a small smile formed as he picked up Murdock's clothes from where B.A. had laid them down. That 'okay' had been said with a tone of utter contentment. They were there, so everything was fine again in Murdock-World. How did the man do that? Continue to bounce back full of hope time after time?

As B.A. headed upstairs, Hannibal seemed to read Face's mind as he moved over and draped an arm around his shoulder.

"I told you Murdock was tough. You know, sometimes I think he's the strongest one of us. Not in terms of lifting stuff or even in terms of stamina, but I don't know that I've ever seen anyone more resilient in my life."

"Me either, Colonel. Never met anyone else even close."

"Let's go rejoin our teammates, son."

They found B.A. and Murdock in a room that was apparently a combination office and break area. Being genetically unable to pass up a chance to snoop inside of a locked file cabinet, Face began picking the lock as B.A. rooted through the refrigerator and cabinets.

"You're gonna need to take it slow getting food back into that puny frame of yours. Found some juice. Sip it slow . . . slower than that. Won't do you any good if you throw it back up again. Man - stuff you're wearing's just fit for the trash can. No saving them. Hannibal, I rolled up some o' his stuff and stuck them in my duffel. You mind gettin' them for us? Watch out for the detonator."

B.A. tried to be gentle as he pulled the t-shirt off of Murdock, but a hiss of pain escaped followed by a growl from B.A as he saw the fading bruises still discoloring the pilot's side.

"What happened to your ribs?"

"Some of Decker's boys got cranky with me, but it was worth it. Nailed him in the nose with a head butt."

Murdock chuckled at the memory. I still would like that five minutes alone with him though, God. Not saying that you'd forget, but just, you know, saying.

Smirking at that, B.A. balled up the shirt and tossed it into the trash. He'd found a cloth that was normally used to wash up dishes and a small bottle of dish washing liquid. After running the sink full of warm soapy water, he was making use of it to wash down Murdock, grumbling under his breath as he did.

"Fools runnin' this place ain't got the sense to even clean out sores. I know this don't feel good, but you don't need to be getting infections in your condition right now."

"No complaints from me, Big Guy. Not a one."

At the sound of a drawer sliding open, Hannibal glanced over to Face who was grinning like a cat that had just found the catnip mother lode. He immediately began to rummage.

"Here are Murdock's VA files and... wait. This one is labeled by what that guard called Murdock. POWSIM1."

Moving over, Hannibal put his hand out.

"Let me see that, Face. Murdock? B.A. says they had a machine playing Vietnamese voices when they came in. What were they saying?"

Murdock was a lot like a floppy ragdoll in B.A.'s arms as he tried to think.

"Right at the end, there were five different ones, Colonel. I heard them often enough. Which one would you like?"

"Start with the first and stop after the fifth one."

"Nhin - no la dien nguoi dan ong."

Laughing, Hannibal interrupted him.

"English translation please. Sorry, I should have specified, Captain."

None of them were laughing by the time Murdock finished with reciting all five. B.A. was snarling again.

"Ghost, huh? I'll show them how solid this ghostly fist is when I use it to pound their fool heads."

"So that's why you were talking about us being figments of your imagination."

"Yeh - sorry about that, Faceman. I was trying to keep everything straight, but the longer I was there, the more muddled it got."

"You don't got a damn thing to be sorry about, little brother. Drink your juice. We're gonna get you up to momma. Get you fed right."

"That's a good idea, B.A. He didn't get this way overnight, he's not going to recover -"

The crashing sound got all of their attention.

"Get ready, men - we appear to have company."

"And me without a thing to wear."

"Hush, Fool."

Chapter Text

The noise coming from shoving the door open could have woken the dead. Decker glared at the MPs with him as if they had made the racket on purpose when all they had been doing was following his orders. His mind really wasn't on his squad though - it was on the A-Team. This time. This time he finally had Smith and his entire misbegotten bunch. The day was coming closer that he'd see them all in front of a firing squad. Well, all except Captain Murdock. But there were other ways to deal with that Section 8 case.

Still, he thought he could bargain with Murdock. His health couldn't be the best right now and the team would be protective of him. He could use that to his advantage. Clearing his throat, he called out to the men that he knew were somewhere in this part of the building.

"Smith - in a few minutes, I'm going to be flooding this area with tear gas. I think we're all aware that Captain Murdock might be unlikely to survive that so I'm going to allow you one chance to send him out before we begin."

B.A. and Face exchanged looks before looking back to Hannibal.

"There's no back way out of here, Colonel. Not unless we make our own."

Murdock was messing with the cloth covering his eyes.

"Hey, leave that thing on, fool."

"No can do. You guys need to be able to go out the front door. That means we need to get past Decker. That means I need to be out of your way. Just get ready to do whatever you need to do while I distract them."

"Murdock, you can barely walk."

"Walls to lean on the entire way, Faceman. Hey - we're all going out of here together. You know, the four amigos. But I have to do this. I got a positive reply to something I begged for - it would be rude of me to ignore it. Well, not precisely what I asked for, but probably as close as I'm going to get."

Pulling the cloth free, he winced then squinted, looking until he found Hannibal.

"I'm not saying I'll make a great distraction, sir - but I'm the only one of us the MPs wouldn't shoot on sight. Please, Colonel?"

Hannibal was torn until he saw the fire burning in the back of Murdock's eyes. Murdock was the hardest out of the four of them to get angry. Then it came to him that the pilot needed a way past this. He had felt it himself over in Vietnam. That overwhelming need not to view himself as a victim.

Both B.A. and Face looked slightly stunned when Hannibal gave Murdock a slow nod. The Captain's face lit up like a child's that just got a look at presents under a Christmas tree.

"I won't let you guys down, sir."

"Never crossed my mind that you would, Captain. Give 'em hell."

Then Hannibal pulled out his weapon and readied it.

"Gentlemen? Let's get ready to make a little noise. Have your party favor ready to go at my signal, Sergeant."

Taking a deep breath, Murdock took hold of the wall and started walking slowly. The juice had helped a lot. He still wasn't wearing anything but boxers, but at least now they were clean ones. He knew he still looked like hell - but Decker and his men didn't know how he looked now. He was counting on that. That the MPs themselves were more like he and the guys. Good men that had the bad fortune to be assigned to someone that didn't deserve to be leading them. He was putting a lot of faith into that brotherhood that many in the military felt for their fellows.

"I know you intended me to forget who I am, Colonel Decker, but I still remember. Do your men know who I am? I mean, other than the crazy guy from the VA? I get the feeling that they don't, so I was thinking I should introduce myself."

"You can quit your ramblings any time, Captain."

"Why, thank you, Colonel Decker. I will. When I'm ready. I am Captain HM Murdock. I was a pilot for the Air Force Thunderbirds back before I shipped to Vietnam. Flew choppers. A damn good pilot if I do say so myself - did everything from dropoffs to extractions to medical runs. I served two tours of duty over there - wounded twice. Scars are easy enough to see. At least the ones that I got from the bullets and shrapnel are. Earned a purple heart, two unit citations and seven medals. Spent time as a POW -"

Murdock timed coming around the corner into the sight of Decker and the MPs with that statement.

"- and as you can see, Colonel Decker thought I enjoyed those days so much, he wanted me to have a chance to relive them."

Decker could feel his men's eyes flickering between him and the man in front of them.

"Don't listen to him. You already know he's insane."

"He does have a point. Section 8. You guys know what Section 8 means, right? It means I was discharged. As in no longer a member of the military forces. As in no longer under the command of any officer in any military service. So - can we all ask ourselves why an officer had you guys kidnap me? Because that's what it was. Kidnapping. There's no arrest warrant out for me and I'm not some guy that's gone AWOL. I'm a civilian now. Have been for over ten years."

"Men, I order you to -"

"What? Shoot me? Kidnap me again? Unlawful orders, Colonel. Ordering your men to do something that they could be arrested for? Hardly in keeping with the accepted military standards of conduct. Not that you were ever more than a half-assed officer. How many women and kids do you think you killed when you deliberately targeted hospitals, Colonel Decker?"

Decker pulled his own gun and pointed it straight at Murdock. The pilot knew he'd pushed one button too many then, but he stayed where he was and just closed his eyes. Maybe the son of a bitch can at least aim so this won't hurt for too long.

At the sound of the gun going off, the rest of the team came around the corner with their hearts in their throats and their weapons in hand - afraid of what they were going to see.

What they saw was Murdock, trembling but still on his feet. Not far away was one of the MPs - his hand on Colonel Decker's wrist, still forcing it upward. The bullet had gone into the ceiling.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Staff Sergeant?"

"You were about to shoot an unarmed civilian, sir!"

"Yes - he was, Staff Sergeant."

Hannibal laid a hand on Murdock's shoulder both to steady his man and to assure himself that the pilot was alright. Then he moved past to where Decker was standing and removed the weapon from his hand. That was when Hannibal noticed that the Staff Sergeant wasn't looking at him or at Decker. He and Murdock were looking into each other's eyes. There was recognition in both of their expressions.

"Hanoi."

"1969. Never did find out your name that crazy day. Never did thank you for pulling my butt out of that hellhole, sir."

"You just did."

The Staff Sergeant kept his eyes on Murdock, smiling faintly as he finally released Decker's wrist and ordered the other MPs to follow him out before the sputtering Colonel could form the words to countermand that order.

He was still trying to call them back as Murdock moved closer to him quietly. When Decker finally realized that Murdock was there, he turned back toward the Captain who was in the process of putting every ounce of energy he had left into a punch at the Colonel's face. He fell himself from the effort, but managed to send Decker reeling. Then he did something he rarely did. Murdock screamed at the man even though the effort hurt both his throat and his still-mending ribs.

"I just wish I could have done that six weeks ago, you sick son of a bitch! At least the Viet Cong had a reason for what they did to me! What was your excuse?"

Face moved to help Murdock back up as B.A. moved to collar Decker. Hannibal jerked his thumb toward the door leading down.

"He likely won't stay there long, but let's allow him to enjoy the amenities of the hotel room he had made for Murdock."

"My pleasure."

B.A wasn't exactly gentle taking Decker downstairs.

"You not only hurt my baby brother, you made our momma cry. Nobody messes with my family. Nobody."

Throwing the man unceremoniously into the room, B.A. slammed the door and headed back upstairs.

Chapter Text

At the base of the stairs, B.A. paused then went back to the cell. Turning up the volume, he restarted the recording, making sure it was set to auto-loop so it would keep repeating. Satisfied with that, he headed back up again.

Murdock wanted to stay on his feet, so Face stayed with him to support him while B.A. handled picking up their duffels. The rest of the clothes he slipped into one of the bags, but B.A. came over with Murdock's socks, shoes, jacket and hat.

"Pants would be so loose that you'd get tangled up in them if we had to move fast. We'll find you something to make do with after we leave here."

Murdock gave a sigh of pleasure as they helped him slide on his familiar old jacket and then settled his ball cap on his head.

"Be honest with you, B.A. - you could tell me I have to dress up as a Dallas Cowboy cheerleader to get out of here and I'd do it."

"There was a mental image I didn't need - thanks, Murdock."

"Anytime, Faceman."

"Hey - I think that's a good mental image for you to keep. Next time you feel yourself acting a fool over a woman, just imagine Crazy Man in what she's wearing."

The expression Face got even thinking about that got Murdock laughing. Hannibal just shook his head in amusement, then got their attention.

"I'm taking point. Face, you follow with Murdock. B.A.?"

"I know - bring up the rear. Let's get out of this dump, Colonel."

On their way out, they noticed the MPs had apparently freed the guard that had been in the chair. One more detail they didn't have to worry about. Whoever else was or wasn't in the building stayed out of their sight. Apparently whatever their jobs paid, they didn't consider it enough to get between the team and their way out.

Hannibal opened the door to the outside and looked up. The weather had darkened since they'd gone in with rain looking highly possible. Even so, Murdock flinched as he took his first steps outside in over five weeks. Just as he did, the rain began pattering down. It hurt a little, but he still angled his head up for a moment to look at the clouds. His sky.

"Missed you too."

"Don't start talkin' to the sky, Fool. We need to get to the van."

"Van?"

Shifting his gaze down from the sky, Murdock caught sight of the company van and stopped so suddenly that Face drug him slightly.

"Not that van - our van. Not much farther, buddy."

But Murdock was still giving the company van a puzzled look.

"You know? It looks like the same one - or the same style anyway. But the pictures are gone."

Face had never noticed the van on the day Murdock was taken - his whole focus had been on Murdock and Decker, not the vehicles around them. Hannibal had turned back around, frowning as he tried to fathom Murdock's seeming fascination with the plain sky-blue van. B.A. was the first one to speak though.

"What pictures are you talkin' about? Ain't no pictures on that thing."

"I know that - if they were there, they wouldn't be gone."

It was hard to argue with that statement so B.A. didn't even try. He just went closer to the van, looking it over himself before moving to the cargo area and trying the handle. It wasn't locked and it only took a minute for the signs stored in the back to register with him.

Tugging out the magnetized vinyl sheet, B.A. let it unroll enough to get a look at the graphics.

"Colonel - come take a look at this, sir."

Curiosity overcame his desire to get them out of there as quickly as possible, but Hannibal was still keeping a wary eye on the area as he came over for what he intended to be a quick glance. It turned into a longer look.

"Lieutenant, help the Captain over here. Murdock? Is this what you were talking about?"

Tilting his head to get a better look, Murdock's expression lit up at the sight of the F-4E Phantom.

"Yes sir. I had gone over to get a better look when Decker had me jumped."

Hannibal got angry all over again. Decker hadn't just stumbled across Murdock, he'd been hunting his man using both his history and love of planes as bait for a trap. The deliberate targeting dropped his opinion of Decker another notch. Which surprised him. Hannibal hadn't even known there was another notch to go down.

"Close that thing back up, B.A."

His tone was one of utter disgust, but then he remembered something and smiled.

"To our van, men. We're going to leave a little going away present."

Once they reached the barn where the van was hidden, Hannibal stopped them all with a hand gesture then looked back at where they'd come from.

"Captain? What do you think of what they did with that van?"

"I think it was a dirty trick, sir. Worked though."

"B.A.? Still have that detonator?"

A smile formed on the muscular man as he pulled out the remote and passed it over to Hannibal. Hannibal, in turn, passed it to Murdock. The curious look on Murdock's face shifted as he glanced down to the van and back to Hannibal.

Hannibal just chuckled softly and pulled out a cigar. They all watched as the van went up in a glorious ball of flame after Murdock triggered the detonator. The rain started to get heavier then so they hurried under the limited shelter the rickity barn provided.

"Load up, men. I think our next priority is finding a motel with a bathtub. No offense, Captain."

"None taken, sir. Just sorry you guys have to be stuck in the van with me until then."

"We'll be fine, buddy. That's the last thing you need to be worried about."

Face settled Murdock into a seat and then rummaged, producing a pack of animal crackers. He opened it then offered them to Murdock. Happily taking one, he bit the head off of a giraffe and gave another sigh. The adrenaline was crashing now that the comfort of their van and his team was all around him. Murdock never even finished the rest of the giraffe before he leaned over to rest his head on Face.

"Murdock?"

"Hmm? What, Faceman?"

"Sorry."

"For what?"

"What do you mean, for what? I left you alone over a woman and they got you. I'm a lousy friend."

"Peck? You didn't leave me alone. I got bored and wandered off. You got distracted, I got distracted. Happens. You've been my best friend for what? Fifteen plus years now? You still are. No harm, no foul, muchacho."

"No harm?"

Looking over his friend's wasted frame, that didn't seem to apply.

"Nothing I won't heal from, buddy. I feel - good right now. The Staff Sergeant. He reminded me. I made a difference. Not to the war maybe, but at least to a few guys that were stuck over in it."

Hannibal glanced back at the two of them before exchanging a look and smile with B.A. The war was a subject they tended not to dwell on, but that room had brought back memories for all of them.

Face slipped an arm around Murdock to let him get more comfortable against him.

"You still do make a difference, pal. Still do."

Chapter Text

The motel they'd found only had two vacancies - one room with a pair of twin beds and one room with a full size bed. Face wanted to stay with Murdock, so the two of them took the room with the full-size bed, though B.A. went in there to help Murdock get cleaned up.

"I can take care of him, Face. You work on getting all of us some food. Be careful what you get for Murdock. Nothing too heavy but you bring him any broth or rice, you'll be picking rice outta your hair for the next week."

"Got it, B.A."

"Try and get some sweats or something that might fit him for now while you're at it."

"Already had that on my list of things to do. Be back shortly."

Bringing a pair of scissors, B.A. trimmed down Murdock's chin growth to a reasonable length before giving him the shaving foam and a safety razor. Murdock wanted to try and shave himself and B.A. didn't see any reason not to let him try it as he ran a bath.

Even with B.A. earlier attempt to wash Murdock off, it took two baths before Murdock felt reasonably human again. The bruising looked worse now that the dirt was off of it, but gentle prodding seemed to indicate it was healing. Probably would already have been healed if he'd had the proper nutrition all along.

B.A. was in the process of putting antibiotic creams and bandages on the sores when Hannibal came in with a carton of chocolate milk for Murdock, who claimed it the second it was open.

"ummmm - thank you, Colonel. That's good. I don't think I could even look at another bowl of rice for awhile. Not that I could see the rice in there, of course. But you know, even my imagination couldn't make pasty, overcooked rice taste like anything but pasty, overcooked rice."

"I know. I've been reading the file they made on you. Wish I'd known about the recordings they made of you. I would have found the singing one and let Decker listen to that for entertainment."

"I left him something to listen to, Colonel. You did tell me to let him enjoy what he set up for Murdock. You were singing in there? What fool thing were you singing in there? And don't even think of startin' to sing it. Just tell me."

Taking a sip of his milk first, Murdock gave a broad grin.

"I did about a zillion choruses of 'It's a Small World'. In as many languages as I could come up with."

Groaning, B.A. finished applying another bandage.

"Damn. Fool tune is stuck in my head again now."

Seemingly unaware that B.A. hadn't meant that as a compliment, Murdock beamed.

"I know! Catchy tune. Man, I want to go back on that ride. I wonder if Mom would like to go to Disney World with me one day? Has she ever been to Disney World? I bet she'd love it. Maybe we could even take Dawn. Man, I bet Dawn would love it. Maybe she'd even go on the ride with me. I bet she wouldn't bail on me after just one trip like you guys did."

"You and your jibber jabber."

B.A. looked for any sores he might have missed, then gave Murdock a rare hair ruffling.

"Missed your jibber jabber, little brother. Don't mean you have to make up for lost time though."

A light kick at the door had Hannibal heading over and a glance through the peep hole showed him it was a heavily loaded down Face. Opening the door, he gave the lieutenant a hand with the packages, some of which smelled very tempting.

"Got some of those new chicken nugget things for you, Murdock - got the rest of us hamburgers."

Murdock popped his head up.

"Happy Meal?"

"Two of them. With the Lego toys - even managed to talk them into letting me get one helicopter and one with the plane. And sweet-n-sour sauce. Did you think I'd forget?"

"You are the bestest best buddy around!"

"You don't gotta eat the fries, but you gotta finish off at least one order of the nuggets before you start playin' with the toys, fool. And eat slow. Give your stomach a chance to adjust to more'n just rice."

They all settled down to eat in companionable silence. There wasn't any need to talk about where they were going. Hannibal had already noticed that B.A. had them heading for Chicago. Besides, the emotional six weeks had taken its toll on all of them and they were all yawning before they finished eating. The Colonel knew that Murdock had to be exhausted when he saw the pilot lay the two bags of toys to the side unopened.

Getting up before he fell asleep where he was sitting, Hannibal helped Murdock over to the bed, pulling the covers over him before leaving for the other room with B.A. Stretching once the door had shut behind the others, Face made short work out of his own preparations for sleep, then slid into the bed next to Murdock, trying to be careful not to wake him.

While he didn't wake up, Murdock did snuggle over closer to Face. When Face thought about the very people oriented pilot having to go without even seeing, let alone touching, anyone else for five weeks, he understood. Contact was Murdock trying to assure himself that he wasn't going to wake up back in that damn cell and find that this was all just a dream he'd been having.

Face could attest for himself now just how much a dream could haunt you even when you were awake. He adjusted his position a little to make things a bit more comfortable for both of them.

Neither of them dreamed or even woke up until Hannibal came in the next morning to help get Murdock ready while B.A. went to get gas for the van.

Chapter Text

The bombing raid had been a successful one and Decker strolled through the rubble even as some of it was still smoldering. He was rather proud at the totality of the destruction.

This was war. In war, you attacked the enemy and they were all his enemy. Every man, woman and child that lived under the flag of North Vietnam. He had no patience for the wishy-washy sorts that tiptoed around these places. Wipe the map clean. Start over.

Striding along, he almost stumbled as something caught his pants leg. Scowling, he looked down at the twisted remains of the red cross that had been a part of the hospital's sign. Freeing his leg, he moved on only to feel something else catch his pants leg just moments later.

He was already reaching down to free himself when he stopped in mid-motion. This time it wasn't a twisted piece of metal. It was a hand. The small, delicate hand of a woman.

"Giup toi - xin - giup toi." 

He ignored her pleas for help and jerked himself free, backing from the blood and dirt crusted fingers even as the rubble began to shift and fall away from her. Something grabbed onto his leg again. He looked down to see a small boy had wrapped himself around his leg. A little boy that had the back half of his head missing. The brains were oozing down the back of the boy's shirt as he clung tighter to the leg and asked for his family.

"La gia dinh toi?" 

He tried to shake loose the child, but only succeeded in losing his balance. Suddenly, hands and bodies seemed to be emerging from everywhere. Women with blood clotting in their long, loose hair. Children missing limbs or eyes. They all reached for him - they all pinned him down so that he couldn't move. Another hand erupted from the ground, digging fingers that were mostly bone into his short hair as the first woman finally freed herself from the rubble. Her ao dai had been white, but was now torn and mostly crimson from her blood. Still, her movements were as graceful as if she had no injures at all despite the fact that one gash on her arm was so deep that he could see her bone through the blood.

Picking up the twisted scrap of the red cross, she made her way over to where her fellow victims held down the man who had ordered the bombings that had killed them all. One of the bars now ended in a point and she looked from it to the man writhing on the ground, trying desperately to escape the clutching grasp of the dead.

"Tham gia voi chung toi. Tham gia nguoi chet." 

Lifting her hands as she invited him to join the ranks of the dead, she suddenly drove the point of the cross down toward his heart.

Decker's scream echoed through the ward as the overworked nurse gave a heavy sigh and looked over at one of the attendants.

"Sounds like it must be time for Room 105 to have his medications again. I can't wait until they start his electro-shock therapy tomorrow. Maybe we'll get a peaceful night again soon."

"Need me to help hold him down?"

"Probably. Decker isn't the most co-operative patient in the world."

Decker's eyes were wild as the nurse approached him with the needle.

"No! No! I'm not the one that's supposed to be here! Murdock! Murdock is the one that's supposed to be here!"

The nurse just shook her head.

"Just another of your hallucinations, Colonel. I looked up your Captain Murdock's records. His records show that he's still MIA in Vietnam, presumed dead."

Decker continued to protest as the drugs started to take effect. Started to make him drowsy. Started to drag him back to where the vengeful souls were waiting. Waiting for him. The whispers were starting again.

"Tham gia nguoi chet."

As the nurse turned away, she saw that she was being watched. A blush rose on her cheeks as she recognized the handsome face.

"Is there a problem, Nurse Ratched?"

"Oh no, Dr. Pepper. 105 was just having hallucinations again."

"105?"

"Yes, sir. Apparently he was checking out the equipment for a simulation and accidently locked himself inside. They didn't find him for six hours and by then?"

She just cast a glance over her shoulder at him before turning her attention back to the far easier to look at doctor.

"Sad. Oh, would you look at the time? I'm going to be late."

The nurse smiled, then gave a heavy sigh and she turned back to work as the doctor walked out of the ward, his smile hidden behind his clipboard. Once he was outside, he removed the labcoat and tossed it into the passenger seat of his 'Vette and then Face started laughing.

Oh, the guys are going to love this. Karma's made Decker bend over and take it.

Face pulled out of the VA parking lot, heading west by the light of the setting sun to rejoin the rest of the A-Team.

Chapter Text

It's hard to say how many prayers I said after I found out my Murdock was missing. There are times I feel the distance between me and my boys so bad that it seems they may as well be on the moon. But knowing one of them was somewhere all by himself? That made it so much worse. Not ashamed to admit that I wept. It was not an easy time.

The time passed slowly. So very slowly. Every time the phone rang, I thought it might be them. May sound foolish to anyone that's never had someone lost, but I was afraid to leave the phone even long enough to go to the bathroom. Just knew in the back of my head that if I couldn't get to the phone in time, it would mean something bad. Strange thoughts prey on your mind when you're full of worry. Thank the Lord for my neighbors. They brought me groceries and Karen, bless her, took time to help me watch that phone so that I could get a little rest without the fear that I'd sleep too hard to hear it ring.

Just a little over three weeks since I knew for sure my Baby was in danger, I got the call from Hannibal. If I could have crawled through that phone line to kiss him, I would have. I knew it was going to be bad though. If the man was trying to give me warnings about how Murdock was going to look after how he looked that last time? Then Bosco tells me he's guessing four weeks to recover? Well, the prayers started all over again, but this time, they were for strength. No matter how my Baby was looking, he was alive. He'd get better.

I suppose my real first indication of how bad it was going to be was when I overheard the soft argument in the hallway. They were arguing about him walking? That child was out there fretting about worrying me too much if he didn't come in on his own two feet. I swear, he and Bosco may just as well be born brothers, they're both so stubborn. But just like now, I never know quite whether I should hug them or swat them for it.

I decided the issue by opening the door, startling all four of them. Oh, I know that my Scooter is a lot bigger than Baby even on a good day for both of them, but today? Baby was so pale and thin standing next to him with Scooter supporting him. So frail like a strong wind would pick him up and swirl him away.

I sincerely hope that I covered my shock with my fussing at them all for standing out in the hallway. Moving over to Murdock, I wanted to hold him tight, but I'd been warned about his ribs, so I just opened my arms and let him hold onto me as hard as he wanted. And let me tell you, that was pretty hard. I could feel the tremors that were shaking him and I barely heard him whisper, "I'm so glad you weren't a dream." It wasn't a weak whisper though, just a soft one and full of joy. It gave me hope.

It took awhile to actually get everyone inside. Hannibal and Face just picked up the bags and moved around us while Bosco stood protectively over the two of us while I made soothing noises to Baby until he finally gave a slightly embarrassed laugh and let us get him out of the hallway. He really could walk well enough, but the trouble was that he tired out quickly. He sure couldn't afford to lose any more weight either. Well, I had the cure for that. I helped take care of my grandmother after she had trouble putting weight back on after a long sickness. Small meals, but lots of them. Never too much in the stomach at one time, but never letting that stomach get empty either.

Those brown eyes were bright and trying to take in everything while we sat at the table then I looked over all four of them and said the shortest prayer I'd said in a month. Thank you. Number of words don't matter. It's the sincerity behind them that does.

Didn't take a lot of food to fill that tiny stomach yet so it wasn't long before I shooed him and Face into my room for a nap. When Hannibal called to let me know they'd found him, he'd also said we'd need to have a long talk. Away from Murdock.

Not only a long talk, but a hard one. Hannibal sat across from me, but Bosco stayed by my side as they quietly told me what all happened. Not just these past six weeks, but years back over in Vietnam. Those things that Bosco never mentioned. Made me want to cry for all of them. But I didn't. Not then. Someday, I'm sure I will when I'm by myself and thinking over all that I know now. I wouldn't cry in front of them because it already bothered them so much to be telling me, but they were afraid that if they didn't, I wouldn't know how to deal with it if Murdock started having nightmares.

They told me some of the things that Decker did over there. They told me some of the things that they did over there. The things done to them over there. I could tell that they had left out a lot and even so, it was an awful tale. Neither of them were looking me in the eyes when they finally finished talking. Startled me when I realized how long they had been speaking. It was near midnight. Not that it mattered. I didn't think that any of the three of us would sleep that night.

It went so quiet. I ran over everything I heard again in my mind before I got up from the couch, giving Bosco's hand a light squeeze before I moved over to Hannibal. Those past weeks had been an awful strain on him, not that a man like him admits such things. I remembered the first time I spoke to him like this. It was when I told him about how much it had bothered me for my son to be out there by himself. I can even remember what I said to him, "I sleep a whole lot better now, knowing that he's not out there alone. He's with his family." That was all in my mind when I spoke again.

"Only you know how hard it was to tell me all of that, but I know it wasn't easy. And I know you are likely all worried about how I will handle all of this. But I want to say this, Hannibal Smith. You four have seen and felt some of the worst examples of cruelty that mankind has to offer and yet? You haven't lost your compassion. You haven't lost your humanity. I have never been prouder to know anyone in my life."

I held out a hand to him and he grasped it with both of his as I brought my other hand over as well and laid it on top of our joined hands. We just held one another there that way for a long minute. Neither of us said another thing. We didn't have to. I knew that for as long as he was able, he'd take care of my boys. Our boys.