FIC: Lost (Part 5 of 5)
TITLE: Lost
FANDOM: A-Team movieverse
GENRE: Friendship/angst
RATING: PG (language)
SUMMARY: 5 times the team loses their pilot.
Thanks so much for the reviews! I've been terrible at replying lately but I appreciate every one so much. Thank you!
( PART ONE) ( PART TWO) (PART THREE) (PART FOUR)
Murdock was clinging so tight that a button popped off Face’s shirt. “Please, Facey,” he begged, voice cracking.
“I’m sorry.” The two most empty, pathetic, inadequate words in the English language. Face wanted to punch himself. He wasn’t sure why Murdock didn’t.
“Please,” again. Face felt a seam tear at his shoulder. He brought his hands up to Murdock’s wrists, not pushing him away, but not pulling him closer either. Not pulling him away from the doctor who had his hand, gentle but firm, around Murdock’s upper arm. Drawing him back. Two orderlies stood a respectful distance behind them, watching closely but not intruding.
“Captain.” Hannibal’s voice was a soft rumble, softer than Face could ever remember hearing it. “You have to go with them.”
Murdock shook his head wildly, the bags under his eyes making them seem all the more manic as they cast desperately around the scene, looking for a friend. “No. NO. Hannibal, you promised me. Remember?” His hands, fisted in Face’s shirt, were shaking. Face could feel the tremors through whole body. “After Mexico, you promised. No more hospitals, remember? I remember. You can’t do this. Please.”
Hannibal didn’t answer. Face wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t think it was worth arguing with Murdock in this state, or because he couldn’t think or anything to say.
“Bosco.” Murdock’s eyes were growing red now. He set his jaw against it, but that only served to emphasise how much weight he’d lost as his cheekbones slashed shadows down his cheeks. “Come on, big guy. I know you really love me, deep deep down.” At a look from the doctor, the orderlies moved towards them. “Don’t let them do this.” Face’s grip on Murdock’s wrists was replaced and he was pulled away. The shoulder seam was torn beyond repair now but Face barely noticed.
Murdock bent and twisted, no longer reaching for Face (and Face wouldn’t admit until hours later, when a bottle of Jack eroded through the wall keeping his tears at bay, how much that hurt). He was just struggling to get away. His too-thin body jerked and scrabbled pathetically. A truly airborne Ranger who could incapacitate a dozen men in less than ten minutes on a good day was reduced to pulling ineffectively as the orderlies waited for him to tire himself out.
“Come on, Mr Murdock,” said the doctor quietly. “It’s time to check in.”
“Captain.” Murdock’s retort was for the doctor, but it was Hannibal his red eyes were focussed on as he spat the word like a curse. “Captain Murdock.”
It was as if the doctor’s words had turned something inside him. He stopped struggling, fists still clenched as he regarded the men who he thought would always be his team.
“You promised.” It would have sounded trite and childish, but Murdock’s tone was anything but. It was filled with anger. He said it as a statement of fact, Exhibits A through Z of their betrayal. It was the sanest they had heard him sound in weeks. He shook his head in disgust and, leaning forward as much as he could, spat on the ground. Face’s heart broke and fell into his stomach in shards.
Then Murdock collapsed. The orderlies, taken by surprise, barely caught him before he cracked his head on the cement. BA and Face started forward, thinking Murdock had fainted. But as the orderlies turned, they saw that the other man’s eyes were still open, half-lidded and staring blankly at the ground. Murdock hadn’t passed out. He’d given up. Passive resistance. He knew it wasn’t worth fighting anymore.
This is what they had wanted (wasn’t it?), what they’d all agreed was best for Murdock (and for them, because you couldn’t be on the run with someone who cared more about feeding his imaginary dog than himself, or who didn’t sleep for days because people who weren’t there were singing too loudly. Right?). This was the best they could hope for: Murdock would get the treatment he needed and that they’d proven to be woefully ill-equipped to provide, and an insanity defence would be his best chance at getting a reduced sentence. They would keep an eye on him, make sure his treatment was humane and effective. They weren’t abandoning him. This wasn’t the end.
Watching Murdock be dragged through the doors of the hospital, though, it certainly felt like it.
FANDOM: A-Team movieverse
GENRE: Friendship/angst
RATING: PG (language)
SUMMARY: 5 times the team loses their pilot.
Thanks so much for the reviews! I've been terrible at replying lately but I appreciate every one so much. Thank you!
( PART ONE) ( PART TWO) (PART THREE) (PART FOUR)
Murdock was clinging so tight that a button popped off Face’s shirt. “Please, Facey,” he begged, voice cracking.
“I’m sorry.” The two most empty, pathetic, inadequate words in the English language. Face wanted to punch himself. He wasn’t sure why Murdock didn’t.
“Please,” again. Face felt a seam tear at his shoulder. He brought his hands up to Murdock’s wrists, not pushing him away, but not pulling him closer either. Not pulling him away from the doctor who had his hand, gentle but firm, around Murdock’s upper arm. Drawing him back. Two orderlies stood a respectful distance behind them, watching closely but not intruding.
“Captain.” Hannibal’s voice was a soft rumble, softer than Face could ever remember hearing it. “You have to go with them.”
Murdock shook his head wildly, the bags under his eyes making them seem all the more manic as they cast desperately around the scene, looking for a friend. “No. NO. Hannibal, you promised me. Remember?” His hands, fisted in Face’s shirt, were shaking. Face could feel the tremors through whole body. “After Mexico, you promised. No more hospitals, remember? I remember. You can’t do this. Please.”
Hannibal didn’t answer. Face wasn’t sure if it was because he didn’t think it was worth arguing with Murdock in this state, or because he couldn’t think or anything to say.
“Bosco.” Murdock’s eyes were growing red now. He set his jaw against it, but that only served to emphasise how much weight he’d lost as his cheekbones slashed shadows down his cheeks. “Come on, big guy. I know you really love me, deep deep down.” At a look from the doctor, the orderlies moved towards them. “Don’t let them do this.” Face’s grip on Murdock’s wrists was replaced and he was pulled away. The shoulder seam was torn beyond repair now but Face barely noticed.
Murdock bent and twisted, no longer reaching for Face (and Face wouldn’t admit until hours later, when a bottle of Jack eroded through the wall keeping his tears at bay, how much that hurt). He was just struggling to get away. His too-thin body jerked and scrabbled pathetically. A truly airborne Ranger who could incapacitate a dozen men in less than ten minutes on a good day was reduced to pulling ineffectively as the orderlies waited for him to tire himself out.
“Come on, Mr Murdock,” said the doctor quietly. “It’s time to check in.”
“Captain.” Murdock’s retort was for the doctor, but it was Hannibal his red eyes were focussed on as he spat the word like a curse. “Captain Murdock.”
It was as if the doctor’s words had turned something inside him. He stopped struggling, fists still clenched as he regarded the men who he thought would always be his team.
“You promised.” It would have sounded trite and childish, but Murdock’s tone was anything but. It was filled with anger. He said it as a statement of fact, Exhibits A through Z of their betrayal. It was the sanest they had heard him sound in weeks. He shook his head in disgust and, leaning forward as much as he could, spat on the ground. Face’s heart broke and fell into his stomach in shards.
Then Murdock collapsed. The orderlies, taken by surprise, barely caught him before he cracked his head on the cement. BA and Face started forward, thinking Murdock had fainted. But as the orderlies turned, they saw that the other man’s eyes were still open, half-lidded and staring blankly at the ground. Murdock hadn’t passed out. He’d given up. Passive resistance. He knew it wasn’t worth fighting anymore.
This is what they had wanted (wasn’t it?), what they’d all agreed was best for Murdock (and for them, because you couldn’t be on the run with someone who cared more about feeding his imaginary dog than himself, or who didn’t sleep for days because people who weren’t there were singing too loudly. Right?). This was the best they could hope for: Murdock would get the treatment he needed and that they’d proven to be woefully ill-equipped to provide, and an insanity defence would be his best chance at getting a reduced sentence. They would keep an eye on him, make sure his treatment was humane and effective. They weren’t abandoning him. This wasn’t the end.
Watching Murdock be dragged through the doors of the hospital, though, it certainly felt like it.