Last Day Alone
Mar. 16th, 2011 10:50 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
trista_zevkiaTitle: The Last Day Alone
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 2/2
Fandom: A-Team (series)
Characters/Pairing: BA/Murdock
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH
Summary: A look back lead to a move forward.
Disclaimer: All monies made will be given to the A-Team’s legal defense fund.
Author's Notes: Previously posted on a-slash at yahoo groups
Chapter 1
A couple of days later, Murdock reported at the same time as B.A. and Peck. He’d been primarily assigned to Colonel Smith but hadn’t bothered to tell B.A. Wanted to surprise him, he said. Murdock was careful to pay just as much attention to Peck as he did to B.A. Soon Peck and Murdock were best friends but the things whispered in the night kept B.A. from getting jealous.
The name Hannibal was whispered among the men associated with Colonel Smith, it’d followed him from his previous assignment, but Murdock was the first one to dare use it to his face. The man had paused to think about it, before laughing for a solid five minutes. His wacky humor was as unpredictable as jazz, but soon he was introducing himself as Hannibal.
Murdock’s contagious joy somehow turned them into a team and the months that followed were almost happy. Occasionally, B.A. would find Murdock alone and unoccupied, staring into space. He wouldn’t talk about these times, though B.A. was sure he was trying to assemble mangled bodies. B.A. found time to discuss this with Peck, and together they contrived to keep him as occupied as possible and away from the eyes of officers and medical professionals. It was exhausting work, but B.A. would have kept it up forever if it would have prevented the crash.
The mission had succeeded, in that their target was eliminated but they’d failed to get away clean. So the three of them made their way to the rendezvous with Murdock and his helicopter, with close to fifty Vietcong on their collective tail. Any other pilot would have left them to their own devices when he saw what came out of the woods behind them. They made it on board and took to the sky in a hail of gunfire. Someone must have brought something bigger than a machine gun with them, because something powerful slammed into the helicopter, seconds before it slammed into the ground. Dazed, confused and wounded, the team couldn’t put up much of a fight and were rather easily captured.
After endless marching and interrogation, they found themselves in a prison camp. It was new camp with very few prisoners already in it, so they were given their own cages. Hannibal was between B.A. and Murdock, so they couldn’t even touch through the bamboo bars. Their first night there, B.A. almost succeeded in breaking through the bamboo before the guards heard the noise. He was beaten severely and tossed back into his newly strengthened cage. He kept at it and they occasionally changed out weakening bars or added more. They were careful never to be alone with him. They looked scared of him, a reaction he encouraged whenever possible.
Hannibal was a particular target for interrogation, as he was obviously in charge. If their captors had paid attention, they would have seen the best way to get information from his was through his men. When they took Peck, Hannibal seethed. When they brought him back and the team realized what had happened to him, Hannibal was apocalyptical.
There was almost a routine to it after a while. They would spend the day torturing Hannibal, occasionally B.A. After a bit of rice, they would come for Peck and Murdock. His non-regulation sun blonde hair getting longer every day, Peck was passed among the ranking officers. Murdock was given to the junior officers and enlisted men who earned a special treat. Hannibal plotted and planned, whenever his mind was not on his team’s pain. The diet and lack of exercise made B.A. ever weaker, but Hannibal got craftier with each failed escape attempt. Their successful escape was legendary, and gory enough to satisfy the bloodlust B.A. felt each time they lead his teammates away.
They traipsed through the jungle for almost a week before hooking up with some grunts awaiting transport. Hannibal saw to it that they weren’t separated, not even in the hospital. The doctors noted the injuries and wrote down their own conclusions as to how they got there, but the team didn’t feel the need to divulge specifics of what had happened in the field. With careful coaching, they got Murdock through the cursory psychological evaluations. After a well deserved rest, they got back to work.
Work was easy, compared to the emotional tangle left of their lives. Peck was edgy and angry for a while, but one evening Hannibal steered the young man into the jungle. B.A. saw them go, and wondered when Hannibal’s hair had gone completely white. B.A. never learned what was said, just knew that Hannibal came out calling Peck ‘Face.’ The name fit perfectly, and stuck. The anger had dissipated into the jungle, but the edgy took a while longer to wear off.
Hannibal’s plans, which had always come from left field, took on a creative quality that was brilliant, but scary. Having lost so much control in that crash and resulting imprisonment, he began trying to control aspects of the plan that he shouldn’t have been able to control. Yet somehow, things seemed to work out. Each success gave him such a rush, that he had to make the next plan even more complex to get that high.
B.A. found himself developing a nervousness about flying that he tried to barrel through, figuring he could overcome it. Anger seemed to lurk under every thought and feeling B.A. had. He couldn’t explain it or find a source for it. Suddenly, everyone was fool, and only the presence of his teammates kept him out of fights. Hannibal would order him to calm down, Face would talk him out of hitting people and Murdock would distract him with some off the wall comment. Even his Momma notice the changes, as her letters starting asking if he was getting enough sleep and couldn’t he spend more time with his friend Murdock, who seemed to be such a calming influence. In loving words she also reminded him that he always had a quick temper, which was a beast that needed constant watching. Sometimes, as he forced himself to let go of Murdock and creep back to his hooch before dawn, he wondered if the anger was a result of lying to the world about his feelings.
B.A. also began to wonder if they had done Murdock such a favor in keeping him out of psychiatric care. Murdock’s behavior became increasingly erratic and the slightest lull in activity would find him staring into space. Their first night back at base camp, Murdock had tried to force himself on B.A. Even still weak from the camps, B.A. was more than match for Murdock, and easily subdued the pilot. Instinctively, B.A. knew that special care was needed with a rape victim, even if he claimed he was ready.
That first night was devoted to sleep, bodies intertwined. A week of talking and light caresses before mutual masturbation that left Murdock sobbing in his arms. A few nights of that before B.A. went down on his partner, and didn’t allow him to reciprocate. A week of only giving blow jobs, and B.A. almost cried with relief when he finally allowed Murdock to give him pleasure. Even with tears in his eyes, B.A. watched Murdock as best as he could, making sure that Murdock took pleasure in the activity. As slowly as teenagers learning that real sex came from both parties getting pleasure, B.A. made Murdock remember how good sex could feel.
The first night he allowed Murdock in his backdoor, Murdock was violent and angry. B.A. accepted it and tried to imagine how it would feel to have an enemy do this to you. That night was his turn to cry. Not from the physical pain, but from the pain he would have taken in Murdock’s place if he could. Intellectually, he knew their captors hadn’t wanted him that way because they considered light skin beautiful. He’d been an ugly beast to them, but even the dumbest beast will find a way to protect its mate, and he had not.
Soothing fingers had found their way inside Murdock, but nothing else, when they were told to rob a bank. No problem, they had been on harder missions. It was a simple job and Murdock flew them back to base camp, talking nonstop, while B.A. tried to squash the fear of flying he hadn’t told anyone about yet. The blaze was noticeable long before they got to camp and they landed to look for survivors. Instead they found confusion and the total loss of all their personal possessions. While evacuating, they found themselves in the center of a bunch of MP’s.
Detained became arrested and suddenly the three of them were in the stockade. Murdock was questioned and released, considered to be a glorified chauffeur. Their advocate told them that between the backlog and the army pulling out of Vietnam, it could be a year or more before they went to trial.
A couple of lewd remarks from fellow prisoners could be ignored, but not the way so many eyes turned to follow Face as he walked. A group decided to make a play for Face, thinking they could bribe or beat their way past B.A. and Hannibal. The stockade guards ignored the whole fight, which only angered Hannibal. He planned and executed their escape so fast Murdock didn’t even have a chance to visit!
B.A. was very relieved to find that going back to the states involved working their way across on a freighter instead of stowing away on a plane. They never really discussed it; it just seemed natural to them to go back to the states; to go home. B.A. spent the time at sea trying to get ideas from Hannibal and Face as to how they would find Murdock again. He didn’t know what Hannibal knew or suspected about their relationship, but he was finding it hard to care. If the army caught him, they might execute him as traitor, what was a dishonorable discharge compared to that?
When they docked in Virginia, they exited the boat with the illegal immigrants. They had the distinct advantage of speaking the language and blending into the general population, but theirs were the faces that gathered the most attention. As unpopular as the war had been back home, the idea that the hated army had found people even more disgraceful than themselves took hold with the media. Their faces were everywhere, on T.V., posters and under scary headlines like 'Could the A-team be in the USA?'
They felt marked, especially when together, but the idea of separating was abhorrent. They found their way into a closed theater company where Hannibal surprised them all with knowledge of rubber noses and makeup. He made up easy to apply disguises for himself and Face, but B.A.’s body stood out in most any crowd. Alterations to his face were therefore basically pointless and he refused to wear makeup in public. In a sudden Murdock moment he seized a nearby pair of clippers and mutilated the regulation army haircut.
“Now they’ll stare at my muscles or my hair. Nobody’ll even notice my face.” Hannibal and Face thought it over for a moment before shrugging at each other. He was probably right. How much time did anybody spend looking at the face of the guy beating them to a pulp?
Driven crazy by B.A.’s muttering and his own concern, a disguised Face spent an entire morning in a phone booth with two rolls of quarters. B.A. acquired a car and Hannibal was on supplies. They met up after lunch and left Virginia behind them. After a campfire cooked supper, Face forced himself to share what he had found out in his morning of calls.
“The army has this idea that we are back in the states, but no proof. They’re highly embarrassed by our crime and escape, so they’re setting up a special task force to find us. They’ve not yet decided who will head it up, but they’re throwing around some names you’ll find interesting, Hannibal.” Here he paused to pass Hannibal a list, who pocketed it to look at later. This part was harder to say and Face took a deep breath before beginning. “Murdock was flying diplomats, soldiers and certain civilians out of Vietnam. There was chaos on the landing pad, and Murdock was forced to leave people, including children. The army wouldn’t let him go back. But it gets worse. They flew the civilians to a small beach to load them onto a boat. Someone took it upon himself to machine gun them down while they were on the beach. The army wouldn’t let anybody go to the beach to help the wounded. Murdock was on the boat and witnessed it all. He freaked out. They had to lock him in the brig until they reached the next base. The doctors finally got around to taking a look at him, and then they shipped him to a loony bin in Texas.”
“Texas?” B.A. was on his feet, stomping around the small camp. “He hated Texas! After his grandparents died he never wanted to go back there. Something bad happened there that he never talked about it. We have to get him out of there!”
“Think, B.A.” Hannibal interjected. B.A. whirled on him, ready to hit anything that asked for it. “If the army doesn’t have that place staked out now, they will as soon as they choose a leader for their task force.”
“B.A.?” Face’s voice was soft but his body was tense. He stood and laid a calming hand on B.A.’s arm. “You have to consider that Murdock might need professional help.”
B.A. jerked away like he had been branded. They only caught a glimpse of the wild look on his face before he turned and fled into the woods. Face sat next to Hannibal, and they began discussing the logistics of visiting Murdock.
Dawn light was filtering through the trees when B.A. returned to camp. He remembered a knocking that had started in the engine as they rolled up to camp, so he popped the hood and started work. The noise must have woken Face, who stumbled out of the tent, soothing his hair.
“B.A.?” He asked worriedly.
“Hey Face. I think we should start keeping watch, ya’ know?”
“Are you” Face hesitated and changed his question. “Hungry?”
B.A. shrugged. “Yeah.”
A quiet breakfast and the battered old car headed for Texas. Face had the address and room number, so he only had to get the plans for the asylum before they were ready for their visit. With disguises and credentials, Face and Hannibal made their way to Murdock’s second story room. Once they found him, they held a hushed debate on whether or not they should continue with the plan. Agreeing B.A. would do something drastic if they didn’t follow the plan and let him see Murdock; they disengaged the alarm and opened the window.
A moment or two and B.A. had free climbed the side of the ancient building. He passed four guys before he got to Murdock. Between him and the door was another five guys. The metal hospital beds were lined up like units in a warehouse, with each patient labeled by his chart on the end of the bed. All the patients were in a drug induced sleep. Face and Hannibal turned to the door, guarding it and giving B.A. as much privacy as they could.
B.A. knelt by Murdock’s bed and tried to match his breathing, an exercise to squash the anger he felt at seeing these soldiers this way. Finally he reached out and began gently trying to wake Murdock. When Murdock started muttering his protest, B.A. began talking to him.
“Murdock, come’ on, wake up! Please, baby, ya’ have too!”
“Why?” The response was soft and infinitely sad, Murdock not even bothering to open his eyes.
“Why?” B.A. was thrown by Murdock’s question. Why what? What did he mean? He glanced at Hannibal’s back, but it held no answers.
“Because it’s me, B.A.”
Murdock sighed but his eyes half opened. “Not my B.A. He’s in jail. Everyone I care about is in jail.”
“No! We broke out and came to see you. I made ‘em, because I love you!” B.A. tried not to hear the pleading in his own voice.
“Nope, not my B.A. He would never say he loves me.”
B.A. froze, his eyes wide. Was Murdock right? All this time they’d been together and he’d never once managed to say those three little words? Come to that, he hadn’t even pressed for Murdock’s real first name. Murdock continued in B.A.’s silence, eyes now open and glaring at B.A.
“He would call me a fool. No, now he would call me a crazy fool! And I would know that he meant he loved me. I would call him something silly, like a mudsucker and he would know that he completes me. I love him so much that when they execute the A-team, I will die too. So, you, fake B.A., can take your sexy haircut and leave me to it.” With that, Murdock flipped over on his squeaky bed and returned to the drugged out coma that had become his existence.
B.A. began shaking Murdock again, determined to wake him back up. His calling must have gotten loud, because suddenly Hannibal and Face were there, trying to hold his arms away from Murdock and whispering at him to calm down. Their words didn’t penetrate, but B.A. did feel the shaft of despair in his heart. He stopped struggling with his teammates and shuffled to the end of the bed. Did Murdock really deserve this? No, nobody did. He wanted to hunt down the staff and hurt them. Instead he climbed out the window and made his way to the car. When Hannibal and Face rejoined him in the car they got on the nearest highway and drove.
They were in Galveston before they talked him into pulling over, though what finally caused him to stop was that only ocean lay in front of them. By silent agreement, nobody talked about Murdock or the conditions he was kept in. They arrived so late that they decided to risk staying the next night in the same campsite, just to try and get some sleep. The campsite was deep in vegetation on one of the few stretches of the beach not given over to high rises and tourist traps. They spent the day enjoying the weather and the beautiful location. Face had spent the day flirting with girls and swimming, but returned only with an ice cream cone. He plopped down on the log next to Hannibal, across the fire pit and out of B.A.’s reach. The ice cream, the way-to-casual tone of voice pretty much screamed that he was desperate for approval of his plan. While he talked, Face alternated between licking his cone and using it to gesture with.
“The army is trying to improve their image, so a clever man could figure out how to use that to his advantage. It turns out that I am a clever man. All I have to do is invent some relatives of Murdock’s. I can even build on the characters we assumed the other day. I find the right sympathetic ear in the right place in the army bureaucracy; tell him we can’t afford to go all the way to Texas every time we want to see Murdock. They will put him on a plane to any VA hospital I name. When you think about quality mental health care, you think New York City and California. The weather is way better in California, and I know L.A. like the back of my hand. I bet I could have him in L.A. inside a week! What do you think?”
Face stared intently at B.A., waiting for an answer. Hannibal used this opportunity to lean over and bite the tip off the ice cream. Hannibal was innocently staring the other way when Face noticed. With fake annoyance Face moved the cone to his other hand. B.A. had been running on autopilot since seeing Murdock, but now the familiar anger came back to him. He welcomed it even while trying to understand the source, as Face’s plan was good. Fake innocence, fake anger, hidden desires, flirting that lead nowhere. Maybe it distracted or relaxed them, it just irritated B.A. If Hannibal had really wanted ice cream he would’ve gone and gotten some, not made a playful grab for a half eaten one! Before Face could mock react, B.A. was on his feet and yelling.
“Knock it off, you foolish cowards!”
They stared at him in shock a long moment before recovering, loudly, at the same time.
“We’re not cowards! The situation demanded a tactical retreat!” Hannibal responded to the coward remark, not even wondering about the foolish bit.
“It’s a good plan, which gets Murdock the care he needs!” Face certainly did not consider himself a fool.
“That’s not what I’m talking about!” B.A. shouted them both down. He was seething but forced himself to pace rather than shout anymore. “I accept that we’re on the run from the country we’d have died to defend. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, but I wish it on Murdock. Do you realize how much easier it would be if Murdock was here and whole? You two have the opportunity to know joy in the midst of all this pain, and you fight over ice cream!”
He stepped around the fire and peered into Hannibal’s shocked face. “No, you cannot order the lieutenant to love you. But you can ask.”
Now Face fell under his scrutiny. “Mortal sin? Maybe. But I hear you go to hell for the thought as well as the deed! ‘Sides, if it’s really that big a deal, you’ll probably wind up in hell for knowing and not condemning Murdock and me.”
Turning to study the fire, B.A. continued. “I figure supper will wait two hours, so I’m taking a walk. When I get back, you’d better’ve made up your minds.”
With those words heavy in the air, B.A. disappeared into the woods. He didn’t go far, he wanted to see what they would do. He circled around for a better vantage point while they sat like lumps on a log. Just when he was beginning to worry they’d sit there for two hours, Face’s ice cream slid off its cone. He grunted at the sticky mess and threw the cone into the fire. When his tongue licked at his fingers, Hannibal’s eyes got very wide before he forced himself to look away. He pointedly did not look as Face stood and walked over to the canteen hung over a convenient tree branch.
Hannibal finally spoke clearly and calmly to the fire. “B.A.’s projecting his desires onto us. But I think it would be better to discuss it in the privacy of the tent, should anybody who heard the shouting come to investigate.“
Face fixed Hannibal with a look B.A. couldn’t interpret. Finally Face muttered an acknowledgment and ducked into the tent. Hannibal got to his feet and trudged his way to the tent. At the flap he paused to stare at the sky and sigh heavily. B.A. echoed a much softer sigh. Hannibal was going into the darkness of the tent so he could hide his real emotions from Face as he gave up on his desires for the good of the team. Hannibal ducked under the flap and stopped, his butt still exposed.
A husky voice issued out of the tent. “There was sand in my shorts.”
That voice sent shiver’s up B.A.’s spine, forcefully reminding him of that Fourth of July so long ago. Murdock alert and erect, whispering ‘once more’ in Spanish. Apparently Hannibal responded as eagerly as B.A. had, if the resulting sounds were any indication. At any rate, they weren’t discussing B.A.’s mental health.
B.A. moved through the trees, as happy as he could be without Murdock. His anger had done a good deed today, helping them get together. Emerging from the trees to the beach proper, B.A. wondered at the number of bonfire he saw. He realized they were celebrating the last official day of summer. Winters in Texas were very different than Chicago or Vietnam. Here only the calendar and state of mind made a difference. He found he liked that thought and followed it for a while. State of mind mattered when dealing with any situation, good or bad. So why not put himself in a state of happiness?
He needed Murdock to be complete, but planning on the happiness they’d have when Murdock was well would get him through the lonely nights. The anger would always be with him, simmering just below the surface, but this would be the last day he would let it completely control him. This was the last day he was going to let despair rob him of the comfort of his friends while waiting for his lover. Murdock would get transferred, he would get better care, and he would get better. This might not be his last day alone, but it would be the last day he let his loneliness define him. He would make his way in this crazy world as best as he could, finding joy and hope where he could. Murdock was a creature of joy, and he would applaud B.A.’s decision to be happy.
B.A. lost track of how long he looked out on the ocean, but when he returned to the campsite he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. B.A. settled down to tend the supper for his friends. Just like the meal, he would be ready when they needed him.
Author: Trista_zevkia
Chapter: 2/2
Fandom: A-Team (series)
Characters/Pairing: BA/Murdock
Rating: PG-17
Warnings: SLASH
Summary: A look back lead to a move forward.
Disclaimer: All monies made will be given to the A-Team’s legal defense fund.
Author's Notes: Previously posted on a-slash at yahoo groups
Chapter 1
A couple of days later, Murdock reported at the same time as B.A. and Peck. He’d been primarily assigned to Colonel Smith but hadn’t bothered to tell B.A. Wanted to surprise him, he said. Murdock was careful to pay just as much attention to Peck as he did to B.A. Soon Peck and Murdock were best friends but the things whispered in the night kept B.A. from getting jealous.
The name Hannibal was whispered among the men associated with Colonel Smith, it’d followed him from his previous assignment, but Murdock was the first one to dare use it to his face. The man had paused to think about it, before laughing for a solid five minutes. His wacky humor was as unpredictable as jazz, but soon he was introducing himself as Hannibal.
Murdock’s contagious joy somehow turned them into a team and the months that followed were almost happy. Occasionally, B.A. would find Murdock alone and unoccupied, staring into space. He wouldn’t talk about these times, though B.A. was sure he was trying to assemble mangled bodies. B.A. found time to discuss this with Peck, and together they contrived to keep him as occupied as possible and away from the eyes of officers and medical professionals. It was exhausting work, but B.A. would have kept it up forever if it would have prevented the crash.
The mission had succeeded, in that their target was eliminated but they’d failed to get away clean. So the three of them made their way to the rendezvous with Murdock and his helicopter, with close to fifty Vietcong on their collective tail. Any other pilot would have left them to their own devices when he saw what came out of the woods behind them. They made it on board and took to the sky in a hail of gunfire. Someone must have brought something bigger than a machine gun with them, because something powerful slammed into the helicopter, seconds before it slammed into the ground. Dazed, confused and wounded, the team couldn’t put up much of a fight and were rather easily captured.
After endless marching and interrogation, they found themselves in a prison camp. It was new camp with very few prisoners already in it, so they were given their own cages. Hannibal was between B.A. and Murdock, so they couldn’t even touch through the bamboo bars. Their first night there, B.A. almost succeeded in breaking through the bamboo before the guards heard the noise. He was beaten severely and tossed back into his newly strengthened cage. He kept at it and they occasionally changed out weakening bars or added more. They were careful never to be alone with him. They looked scared of him, a reaction he encouraged whenever possible.
Hannibal was a particular target for interrogation, as he was obviously in charge. If their captors had paid attention, they would have seen the best way to get information from his was through his men. When they took Peck, Hannibal seethed. When they brought him back and the team realized what had happened to him, Hannibal was apocalyptical.
There was almost a routine to it after a while. They would spend the day torturing Hannibal, occasionally B.A. After a bit of rice, they would come for Peck and Murdock. His non-regulation sun blonde hair getting longer every day, Peck was passed among the ranking officers. Murdock was given to the junior officers and enlisted men who earned a special treat. Hannibal plotted and planned, whenever his mind was not on his team’s pain. The diet and lack of exercise made B.A. ever weaker, but Hannibal got craftier with each failed escape attempt. Their successful escape was legendary, and gory enough to satisfy the bloodlust B.A. felt each time they lead his teammates away.
They traipsed through the jungle for almost a week before hooking up with some grunts awaiting transport. Hannibal saw to it that they weren’t separated, not even in the hospital. The doctors noted the injuries and wrote down their own conclusions as to how they got there, but the team didn’t feel the need to divulge specifics of what had happened in the field. With careful coaching, they got Murdock through the cursory psychological evaluations. After a well deserved rest, they got back to work.
Work was easy, compared to the emotional tangle left of their lives. Peck was edgy and angry for a while, but one evening Hannibal steered the young man into the jungle. B.A. saw them go, and wondered when Hannibal’s hair had gone completely white. B.A. never learned what was said, just knew that Hannibal came out calling Peck ‘Face.’ The name fit perfectly, and stuck. The anger had dissipated into the jungle, but the edgy took a while longer to wear off.
Hannibal’s plans, which had always come from left field, took on a creative quality that was brilliant, but scary. Having lost so much control in that crash and resulting imprisonment, he began trying to control aspects of the plan that he shouldn’t have been able to control. Yet somehow, things seemed to work out. Each success gave him such a rush, that he had to make the next plan even more complex to get that high.
B.A. found himself developing a nervousness about flying that he tried to barrel through, figuring he could overcome it. Anger seemed to lurk under every thought and feeling B.A. had. He couldn’t explain it or find a source for it. Suddenly, everyone was fool, and only the presence of his teammates kept him out of fights. Hannibal would order him to calm down, Face would talk him out of hitting people and Murdock would distract him with some off the wall comment. Even his Momma notice the changes, as her letters starting asking if he was getting enough sleep and couldn’t he spend more time with his friend Murdock, who seemed to be such a calming influence. In loving words she also reminded him that he always had a quick temper, which was a beast that needed constant watching. Sometimes, as he forced himself to let go of Murdock and creep back to his hooch before dawn, he wondered if the anger was a result of lying to the world about his feelings.
B.A. also began to wonder if they had done Murdock such a favor in keeping him out of psychiatric care. Murdock’s behavior became increasingly erratic and the slightest lull in activity would find him staring into space. Their first night back at base camp, Murdock had tried to force himself on B.A. Even still weak from the camps, B.A. was more than match for Murdock, and easily subdued the pilot. Instinctively, B.A. knew that special care was needed with a rape victim, even if he claimed he was ready.
That first night was devoted to sleep, bodies intertwined. A week of talking and light caresses before mutual masturbation that left Murdock sobbing in his arms. A few nights of that before B.A. went down on his partner, and didn’t allow him to reciprocate. A week of only giving blow jobs, and B.A. almost cried with relief when he finally allowed Murdock to give him pleasure. Even with tears in his eyes, B.A. watched Murdock as best as he could, making sure that Murdock took pleasure in the activity. As slowly as teenagers learning that real sex came from both parties getting pleasure, B.A. made Murdock remember how good sex could feel.
The first night he allowed Murdock in his backdoor, Murdock was violent and angry. B.A. accepted it and tried to imagine how it would feel to have an enemy do this to you. That night was his turn to cry. Not from the physical pain, but from the pain he would have taken in Murdock’s place if he could. Intellectually, he knew their captors hadn’t wanted him that way because they considered light skin beautiful. He’d been an ugly beast to them, but even the dumbest beast will find a way to protect its mate, and he had not.
Soothing fingers had found their way inside Murdock, but nothing else, when they were told to rob a bank. No problem, they had been on harder missions. It was a simple job and Murdock flew them back to base camp, talking nonstop, while B.A. tried to squash the fear of flying he hadn’t told anyone about yet. The blaze was noticeable long before they got to camp and they landed to look for survivors. Instead they found confusion and the total loss of all their personal possessions. While evacuating, they found themselves in the center of a bunch of MP’s.
Detained became arrested and suddenly the three of them were in the stockade. Murdock was questioned and released, considered to be a glorified chauffeur. Their advocate told them that between the backlog and the army pulling out of Vietnam, it could be a year or more before they went to trial.
A couple of lewd remarks from fellow prisoners could be ignored, but not the way so many eyes turned to follow Face as he walked. A group decided to make a play for Face, thinking they could bribe or beat their way past B.A. and Hannibal. The stockade guards ignored the whole fight, which only angered Hannibal. He planned and executed their escape so fast Murdock didn’t even have a chance to visit!
B.A. was very relieved to find that going back to the states involved working their way across on a freighter instead of stowing away on a plane. They never really discussed it; it just seemed natural to them to go back to the states; to go home. B.A. spent the time at sea trying to get ideas from Hannibal and Face as to how they would find Murdock again. He didn’t know what Hannibal knew or suspected about their relationship, but he was finding it hard to care. If the army caught him, they might execute him as traitor, what was a dishonorable discharge compared to that?
When they docked in Virginia, they exited the boat with the illegal immigrants. They had the distinct advantage of speaking the language and blending into the general population, but theirs were the faces that gathered the most attention. As unpopular as the war had been back home, the idea that the hated army had found people even more disgraceful than themselves took hold with the media. Their faces were everywhere, on T.V., posters and under scary headlines like 'Could the A-team be in the USA?'
They felt marked, especially when together, but the idea of separating was abhorrent. They found their way into a closed theater company where Hannibal surprised them all with knowledge of rubber noses and makeup. He made up easy to apply disguises for himself and Face, but B.A.’s body stood out in most any crowd. Alterations to his face were therefore basically pointless and he refused to wear makeup in public. In a sudden Murdock moment he seized a nearby pair of clippers and mutilated the regulation army haircut.
“Now they’ll stare at my muscles or my hair. Nobody’ll even notice my face.” Hannibal and Face thought it over for a moment before shrugging at each other. He was probably right. How much time did anybody spend looking at the face of the guy beating them to a pulp?
Driven crazy by B.A.’s muttering and his own concern, a disguised Face spent an entire morning in a phone booth with two rolls of quarters. B.A. acquired a car and Hannibal was on supplies. They met up after lunch and left Virginia behind them. After a campfire cooked supper, Face forced himself to share what he had found out in his morning of calls.
“The army has this idea that we are back in the states, but no proof. They’re highly embarrassed by our crime and escape, so they’re setting up a special task force to find us. They’ve not yet decided who will head it up, but they’re throwing around some names you’ll find interesting, Hannibal.” Here he paused to pass Hannibal a list, who pocketed it to look at later. This part was harder to say and Face took a deep breath before beginning. “Murdock was flying diplomats, soldiers and certain civilians out of Vietnam. There was chaos on the landing pad, and Murdock was forced to leave people, including children. The army wouldn’t let him go back. But it gets worse. They flew the civilians to a small beach to load them onto a boat. Someone took it upon himself to machine gun them down while they were on the beach. The army wouldn’t let anybody go to the beach to help the wounded. Murdock was on the boat and witnessed it all. He freaked out. They had to lock him in the brig until they reached the next base. The doctors finally got around to taking a look at him, and then they shipped him to a loony bin in Texas.”
“Texas?” B.A. was on his feet, stomping around the small camp. “He hated Texas! After his grandparents died he never wanted to go back there. Something bad happened there that he never talked about it. We have to get him out of there!”
“Think, B.A.” Hannibal interjected. B.A. whirled on him, ready to hit anything that asked for it. “If the army doesn’t have that place staked out now, they will as soon as they choose a leader for their task force.”
“B.A.?” Face’s voice was soft but his body was tense. He stood and laid a calming hand on B.A.’s arm. “You have to consider that Murdock might need professional help.”
B.A. jerked away like he had been branded. They only caught a glimpse of the wild look on his face before he turned and fled into the woods. Face sat next to Hannibal, and they began discussing the logistics of visiting Murdock.
Dawn light was filtering through the trees when B.A. returned to camp. He remembered a knocking that had started in the engine as they rolled up to camp, so he popped the hood and started work. The noise must have woken Face, who stumbled out of the tent, soothing his hair.
“B.A.?” He asked worriedly.
“Hey Face. I think we should start keeping watch, ya’ know?”
“Are you” Face hesitated and changed his question. “Hungry?”
B.A. shrugged. “Yeah.”
A quiet breakfast and the battered old car headed for Texas. Face had the address and room number, so he only had to get the plans for the asylum before they were ready for their visit. With disguises and credentials, Face and Hannibal made their way to Murdock’s second story room. Once they found him, they held a hushed debate on whether or not they should continue with the plan. Agreeing B.A. would do something drastic if they didn’t follow the plan and let him see Murdock; they disengaged the alarm and opened the window.
A moment or two and B.A. had free climbed the side of the ancient building. He passed four guys before he got to Murdock. Between him and the door was another five guys. The metal hospital beds were lined up like units in a warehouse, with each patient labeled by his chart on the end of the bed. All the patients were in a drug induced sleep. Face and Hannibal turned to the door, guarding it and giving B.A. as much privacy as they could.
B.A. knelt by Murdock’s bed and tried to match his breathing, an exercise to squash the anger he felt at seeing these soldiers this way. Finally he reached out and began gently trying to wake Murdock. When Murdock started muttering his protest, B.A. began talking to him.
“Murdock, come’ on, wake up! Please, baby, ya’ have too!”
“Why?” The response was soft and infinitely sad, Murdock not even bothering to open his eyes.
“Why?” B.A. was thrown by Murdock’s question. Why what? What did he mean? He glanced at Hannibal’s back, but it held no answers.
“Because it’s me, B.A.”
Murdock sighed but his eyes half opened. “Not my B.A. He’s in jail. Everyone I care about is in jail.”
“No! We broke out and came to see you. I made ‘em, because I love you!” B.A. tried not to hear the pleading in his own voice.
“Nope, not my B.A. He would never say he loves me.”
B.A. froze, his eyes wide. Was Murdock right? All this time they’d been together and he’d never once managed to say those three little words? Come to that, he hadn’t even pressed for Murdock’s real first name. Murdock continued in B.A.’s silence, eyes now open and glaring at B.A.
“He would call me a fool. No, now he would call me a crazy fool! And I would know that he meant he loved me. I would call him something silly, like a mudsucker and he would know that he completes me. I love him so much that when they execute the A-team, I will die too. So, you, fake B.A., can take your sexy haircut and leave me to it.” With that, Murdock flipped over on his squeaky bed and returned to the drugged out coma that had become his existence.
B.A. began shaking Murdock again, determined to wake him back up. His calling must have gotten loud, because suddenly Hannibal and Face were there, trying to hold his arms away from Murdock and whispering at him to calm down. Their words didn’t penetrate, but B.A. did feel the shaft of despair in his heart. He stopped struggling with his teammates and shuffled to the end of the bed. Did Murdock really deserve this? No, nobody did. He wanted to hunt down the staff and hurt them. Instead he climbed out the window and made his way to the car. When Hannibal and Face rejoined him in the car they got on the nearest highway and drove.
They were in Galveston before they talked him into pulling over, though what finally caused him to stop was that only ocean lay in front of them. By silent agreement, nobody talked about Murdock or the conditions he was kept in. They arrived so late that they decided to risk staying the next night in the same campsite, just to try and get some sleep. The campsite was deep in vegetation on one of the few stretches of the beach not given over to high rises and tourist traps. They spent the day enjoying the weather and the beautiful location. Face had spent the day flirting with girls and swimming, but returned only with an ice cream cone. He plopped down on the log next to Hannibal, across the fire pit and out of B.A.’s reach. The ice cream, the way-to-casual tone of voice pretty much screamed that he was desperate for approval of his plan. While he talked, Face alternated between licking his cone and using it to gesture with.
“The army is trying to improve their image, so a clever man could figure out how to use that to his advantage. It turns out that I am a clever man. All I have to do is invent some relatives of Murdock’s. I can even build on the characters we assumed the other day. I find the right sympathetic ear in the right place in the army bureaucracy; tell him we can’t afford to go all the way to Texas every time we want to see Murdock. They will put him on a plane to any VA hospital I name. When you think about quality mental health care, you think New York City and California. The weather is way better in California, and I know L.A. like the back of my hand. I bet I could have him in L.A. inside a week! What do you think?”
Face stared intently at B.A., waiting for an answer. Hannibal used this opportunity to lean over and bite the tip off the ice cream. Hannibal was innocently staring the other way when Face noticed. With fake annoyance Face moved the cone to his other hand. B.A. had been running on autopilot since seeing Murdock, but now the familiar anger came back to him. He welcomed it even while trying to understand the source, as Face’s plan was good. Fake innocence, fake anger, hidden desires, flirting that lead nowhere. Maybe it distracted or relaxed them, it just irritated B.A. If Hannibal had really wanted ice cream he would’ve gone and gotten some, not made a playful grab for a half eaten one! Before Face could mock react, B.A. was on his feet and yelling.
“Knock it off, you foolish cowards!”
They stared at him in shock a long moment before recovering, loudly, at the same time.
“We’re not cowards! The situation demanded a tactical retreat!” Hannibal responded to the coward remark, not even wondering about the foolish bit.
“It’s a good plan, which gets Murdock the care he needs!” Face certainly did not consider himself a fool.
“That’s not what I’m talking about!” B.A. shouted them both down. He was seething but forced himself to pace rather than shout anymore. “I accept that we’re on the run from the country we’d have died to defend. I wouldn’t wish that on my worst enemy, but I wish it on Murdock. Do you realize how much easier it would be if Murdock was here and whole? You two have the opportunity to know joy in the midst of all this pain, and you fight over ice cream!”
He stepped around the fire and peered into Hannibal’s shocked face. “No, you cannot order the lieutenant to love you. But you can ask.”
Now Face fell under his scrutiny. “Mortal sin? Maybe. But I hear you go to hell for the thought as well as the deed! ‘Sides, if it’s really that big a deal, you’ll probably wind up in hell for knowing and not condemning Murdock and me.”
Turning to study the fire, B.A. continued. “I figure supper will wait two hours, so I’m taking a walk. When I get back, you’d better’ve made up your minds.”
With those words heavy in the air, B.A. disappeared into the woods. He didn’t go far, he wanted to see what they would do. He circled around for a better vantage point while they sat like lumps on a log. Just when he was beginning to worry they’d sit there for two hours, Face’s ice cream slid off its cone. He grunted at the sticky mess and threw the cone into the fire. When his tongue licked at his fingers, Hannibal’s eyes got very wide before he forced himself to look away. He pointedly did not look as Face stood and walked over to the canteen hung over a convenient tree branch.
Hannibal finally spoke clearly and calmly to the fire. “B.A.’s projecting his desires onto us. But I think it would be better to discuss it in the privacy of the tent, should anybody who heard the shouting come to investigate.“
Face fixed Hannibal with a look B.A. couldn’t interpret. Finally Face muttered an acknowledgment and ducked into the tent. Hannibal got to his feet and trudged his way to the tent. At the flap he paused to stare at the sky and sigh heavily. B.A. echoed a much softer sigh. Hannibal was going into the darkness of the tent so he could hide his real emotions from Face as he gave up on his desires for the good of the team. Hannibal ducked under the flap and stopped, his butt still exposed.
A husky voice issued out of the tent. “There was sand in my shorts.”
That voice sent shiver’s up B.A.’s spine, forcefully reminding him of that Fourth of July so long ago. Murdock alert and erect, whispering ‘once more’ in Spanish. Apparently Hannibal responded as eagerly as B.A. had, if the resulting sounds were any indication. At any rate, they weren’t discussing B.A.’s mental health.
B.A. moved through the trees, as happy as he could be without Murdock. His anger had done a good deed today, helping them get together. Emerging from the trees to the beach proper, B.A. wondered at the number of bonfire he saw. He realized they were celebrating the last official day of summer. Winters in Texas were very different than Chicago or Vietnam. Here only the calendar and state of mind made a difference. He found he liked that thought and followed it for a while. State of mind mattered when dealing with any situation, good or bad. So why not put himself in a state of happiness?
He needed Murdock to be complete, but planning on the happiness they’d have when Murdock was well would get him through the lonely nights. The anger would always be with him, simmering just below the surface, but this would be the last day he would let it completely control him. This was the last day he was going to let despair rob him of the comfort of his friends while waiting for his lover. Murdock would get transferred, he would get better care, and he would get better. This might not be his last day alone, but it would be the last day he let his loneliness define him. He would make his way in this crazy world as best as he could, finding joy and hope where he could. Murdock was a creature of joy, and he would applaud B.A.’s decision to be happy.
B.A. lost track of how long he looked out on the ocean, but when he returned to the campsite he felt as if a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. B.A. settled down to tend the supper for his friends. Just like the meal, he would be ready when they needed him.
