Discovery 1a/?

[soulsrant]

Title: Discovery

Author: Soulseeker

Fandom: The A-Team

Rating: Adults only (I’m not sure what the new rating system is. The old rating would be NC-17).

Warning: Contains m/m relationship, discusses rape, torture, child abuse, strong language and gay bashing. I’m pretty sure that’s every thing.

Pairing: F/M

Parts: 1/?

Summary: Hannibal and B.A. finds out about Murdock’s and Face’s relationship. Let’s just say that they aren’t too pleased. Takes place before, during and after ’Curtain Call’.

Beta: the wonderful, wonderful smokey duck.

Disclaimer: I owe nothing except my cat, dog, farret and husband. You’re welcomed to three out of four. I get to chose, though.

Comments? You betcha!

DISCOVERY

Hannibal and B.A. swiftly let themselves into Face’s newly acquired beach house. That last brush with Decker and his men had been too close for comfort. They had spent the last hour checking out the area around the beach house, looking for Decker bugs. Pest free, Hannibal picked the lock and they strolled into the safe house.

Hannibal frowned. His lieutenant was getting sloppy if he didn’t know when someone was picking his locks. And he had not been particularly quiet about it either. He was going to have a nice long chat about security as soon as he saw Face. Speaking of which, where the hell was the con man?

There was soft music playing and Hannibal noted that the dining table was set with two plates, both meals half eaten. A small vase with roses and two silver candlesticks with half-burned candles completed the romantic lunch setting. It seemed that Face had company. But where were Face and his new lady at? Maybe they’d just gone for a quick stroll on the beach.

B.A. hissed to Hannibal, holding up a man’s silk shirt that he’d just found crumpled up on the floor. Hannibal grinned. Or maybe they weren’t strolling at all. The music ended and the two men could hear the subtle squeak of a bouncing bed in the now silent house.

Hannibal looked at B.A., the jazz making his eyes light up. “Maybe we should surprise them,” Hannibal whispered. “It’ll teach our lieutenant to keep his mind on security protocol.”

B.A. gave a muffled giggle at the thought and followed his leader. The Colonel led the way, following the rhythmic sound. Every few minutes, there was a male moan or sigh.

Even once a giggle. Hannibal and B.A. grinned even more. Whoever this chick was, she was certainly talented. Hopefully she had sisters. Or friends.

Hannibal spotted a trail of Face’s clothes. First came the shoes, one by one, then socks, and near a half opened door, a pair of discarded pants. ’This girl must really be something,’ he thought, ’for Face to just throw his clothes everywhere.’

B.A. was thinking the same thing as the squeaking became faster and louder. They could hear muttering, but nothing distinctive. Reaching out, Hannibal quietly pushed the door all the way open. On the floor was a pair of silk boxers. Hannibal and B.A. were about to yell ’Surprise’, when they noticed a pair of cotton boxers right next to the silk ones.

The two men stared in stunned disbelief at the floor. More incriminating evidence was found, another pair of strangely familiar pair of men’s pants and shirt laid nearby. Their eyes, against their will, trailed up from the floor to the squeaking bed. The one male voice, they realized too late, had been two. The silk sheets were half-way off the bed, the pillows were thrown on the floor. They were greeted with the sight of Face’s bare ass, muscles flexing as he slowly and steadily pumped into his partner. His *male* partner.

Long hairy legs were wrapped around Face’s hips, muscular arms caressing his back. Hannibal and B.A. were too shocked to say anything, their voices locked in horror at the sight before them. They just couldn’t believe it. Lt. Templeton Peck, conman and womanizer, was fucking another man. And by the sounds the two men were making, enjoying every minute of it.

As if sensing something was wrong, the man under Face raised his head and looked over Face’s shoulder. Large brown eyes grew larger as he spotted their audience. Hannibal and B.A. felt their world rock once again as they stared into Murdock’s frozen face. They watched as shock filled the pilot’s face and he suddenly stiffened in dawning horror.

Murdock tensed as he saw the beginnings of hate and anger darken the eyes of his now former friends. His throat locked and he was sure that his heart had just stopped. All of his fears and nightmares had just became a reality.

Face had just sunk deep into his lover’s body when he felt the change from hot passion to tensing fear. Afraid of another flashback, Face looked up from the long neck he had just been nibbling on to the now bloodless face of his lover. Murdock’s eyes were round with terror and focused directly over Face’s shoulder. He barely breathed.

“Murdock, love, what’s wrong?”

“I’d like to know the answer to that myself, Lt.”

Murdock flinched at the menace in Hannibal’s voice as Face looked over his own shoulder. The conman groaned at the sight of his two teammates standing in bedroom doorway, glowering at them both. Face forced himself to stay calm. Panicking would get them nowhere and it just might make matters with Murdock even worse.

He felt little pinpricks of pain radiating from his shoulders and knew that Murdock had unconsciously dug his fingernails into his flesh. Murdock’s erection, which had been rubbing quite pleasantly against Face’s stomach, had suddenly wilted in the face of his mounting terror. The smell of fear from the pilot also softened his own cock and Face privately mourned the loss.

Reminding himself to stay calm for his love’s sake, Face addressed the two men in the doorway. “If you wouldn’t mind giving us a bit of privacy to get dressed, we’ll talk about this in the living room. Unless, of course, you want to have it out with the two of us stark naked.”

A slamming door was his answer. Murdock flinched again.

“Guess not,” Face flippantly said to the now quiet room.

The blonde looked down into the face of his best friend . . . his lover . . his soul mate. Murdock’s face was still pale and his eyes were glued to the closed bedroom door. His rigid body began to shake with fine tremors running though his muscles. Face caressed his beloved’s cheek until large, child-like eyes finally focused on him. He looked into those brown eyes and saw fear and panic. Face spoke slowly and calmly to him, trying to reassure the frightened man that everything was going to be alright.

“Murdock, love, I’m going to pull out now, ok?”

He waited until he got a tiny nod before he began to move slowly and carefully out of his lover’s body, keeping eye contact the whole time. Murdock was so badly tensed up that Face knew that any abrupt movement could cause damage. And the last thing Murdock needed right now was to experience pain in a bed or see blood on his own body.

“I’m gonna clean both of us up now, ok?”

Another small head movement and Face left their formerly cozy nest and went to the adjoining bathroom. Murdock kept his eyes on the blond the whole time. He felt empty in his heart as well as his body. He had already known that he was going to lose Face someday, he’d just not counted on it being this soon. And not only was he losing Face, but Hannibal and B.A. as well.

The pilot had seen those looks of anger and disgust before. He knew what those looks meant. He felt dirty, wrong, and knew that the others would blame him for tainting Face.

Because they were right. He had sullied Face’s honor and goodness with his filthy body and now they were going to take his angel away from him for good. He was going to be left alone again, so that they could save Face from him. And they needed to save the blond, because Murdock knew that he was disgusted and filthy-minded and his soul would burn in Hell. He was nothing, garbage, and he never should have contaminated Face’s purity with his ugly, twisted self.

Murdock flinched as something warm and wet touched him. He had been so lost inside his own head that he hadn’t noticed Face’s return. He wanted to tell the other man that a simple washcloth would not scrub away his filth. Bleach wouldn’t even be enough to scour his Devil spawn’s body. But fear still held his throat locked tight, and he could only look on in mute misery as Face tried to clean up the sewer that masqueraded as a real person.

Face had seen the flinch and gently patted a quivering side, trying to bring comfort. His warm palm made long sweeping circles from nipple to hip. By the time he finished cleaning Murdock and took a few quick swipes at himself, the shaking had abated somewhat. But Murdock had yet to utter a word, and that worried Face. He hoped that this would not result in a bad setback for the pilot.

The blond leaned up and, keeping one hand on the slight waist, he framed his lover’s face with the other. He was successful in maintaining eye contact with the other man. He softly and gently tried to get Murdock to respond to him.

“Murdock, honey. Please talk to me. You can trust me, you know that. You’re safe with me. I love you. Please say something. I promise you, everything’s going to be all right.” Face kept his voice low and soothing, somehow knowing that anything less would drive Murdock deeper inside his mind.

Murdock’s body burned hot and cold, his teeth chattered a little as he finally said the only thing that came to his mind.

“They hate me.”

Face’s heart sank at that softly spoken, pain-filled sentence. Of course Murdock *would* think that. Face knew that the pilot had almost no self-esteem and couldn’t understand why the whole world didn’t love Face as much as he did. In his reasoning, if something went wrong between them, then it was entirely *his* fault. Face had spent years trying to build him up, trying to make him see that he did deserved to be loved, that he wasn’t responsible for every little thing that went wrong. And he’d been making progress. Up until now.

“No, no, love. They don’t hate you. They don’t hate *us*. They’re just surprised, that’s all. Once we talk to them, everything will be just fine.”

But Murdock was already shaking his head, a few tears already escaping. “No! No, you’re wrong. You didn’t see their eyes, Face. They look just like my ….” Murdock’s voice trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

“Murdock, Hannibal is *not* like your father. And I’m not David. I’m never going to leave you. We talked about this, remember? It’s you and me. Forever and ever. Remember?”

There was an unconvincing nod and Face sighed. They’d had arguments in the past about this fear of Murdock’s. But once the pilot got an idea in his head, it was hard to shake out. Murdock’s father had disowned him when he found out that his only child was gay. Ever since Face and Murdock had decided to become a real couple, the pilot had had a mind-numbing fear that Hannibal and B.A. would desert him and take Face away forever if they ever found out about the two of them. Nothing that the blond could say would persuade him that that idea was total nonsense. He’d lost one family and deathly afraid of losing another.

“I’m waiting, lieutenant!” Hannibal’s voice bellowed from the living room.

Murdock flinched again. Face suppressed a sigh, and instead smiled reassuringly at Murdock. “We’re being summoned. Let’s get dressed and get all this taken care of. Then we can come back to bed and pick up where we left off.” He gave the pilot a leer and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Instead of laughing like he usually did, Murdock just silently started to get dressed, picking up his discarded clothes. Face sighed again and followed suit, choosing clean clothes and loafers as his were mostly decorating the rest of the house.

Hannibal puffed on his cigar as he paced and B.A. was a solid presence on the couch. The shock and anger had yet to dissipate and the longer they waited, the angrier they felt. They had both briefly talked while they waited for their lieutenant and captain. They wondered aloud about how they could miss the signs that two of their teammates were, well, *that* way. How long had it been going on? They’d shared rooms, and sometimes beds if necessary, with both men before. They both wondered if the other two had lustful thoughts about them. B.A. had been especially upset because both Face and Murdock had helped out at the daycare center. Had one of them touched one of his kids and he not known it?

The big man’s fists tightened in anger at the thought of one of ‘those’ people turning one of his kids ‘funny’. He realized that Murdock could not help being ‘that’ way. He was crazy for a reason, after all. But Face, what was Face’s excuse? He knew that the blond could have any woman that he wanted, so why go after other men? The sergeant was positive that it had to be Murdock’s fault. The dude was always coming up with weird ideas, but this took the granddaddy prize of all time.

And Face had always played along with all the craziness before. So maybe that was how the two of them ended up in bed together. Face had just innocently played along until he got caught up in the madness. Well, B.A. wasn’t going to let a good friend go down the wrong path. Not if he had anything to do with it. No sir, he’d just have to get Face away from the fool long enough to get him to start thinking straight again. Get him back into dating girls again. Yeah, that’s what he’d do. B.A. would save Face even if it was the last thing he’d ever do.

Hannibal had been thinking almost the same thing, but he’d come to a different conclusion. Had his second-in- command become bored with women? Was that why he’d seduced Murdock, for the challenge of it? And why the Captain? Lord knew that Face would screw anything wearing a skirt, but *this*? Hannibal knew that sometimes romance had to take a backseat when the army closed in on them. Had the blond become so obsessed with sex that he had to have a ready access to it?

Murdock was the innocent here, almost child-like in his trust at times. Had Face taken advantage of that? Was this nothing more then a game for the conman? Hannibal thought about the past, about all the times that Face had been the only one able to reach Murdock when the pilot retreated deep inside his own mind to escape the atrocities of the P.O.W. camp. Had he felt powerful when he had taken care of Murdock? Was that it? Was he now using sex as a form of control? Did he get a sick satisfaction over using someone else? Murdock had a fragile mind, he needed to be protected from predators like Face. This was going to stop and Hannibal was going to be the one to stop it.

The two men looked up as one when they heard footsteps approach. Face and Murdock appeared, holding hands. As soon as Murdock saw the disapproving glares, he tried to pull free, but Face held him tight. His blue eyes flashed with defiance, as if he dared them to say anything. Murdock just hung his head, trying to disappear from sight.

While Hannibal and Face glared daggers at each other, Murdock was finally successful in pulling loose. He headed for the couch until a glare from B.A. stopped his progress. Heart pounding in dread, Murdock folded himself up in one of the over-stuffed chairs decorating the living room. Knees up, arms around his legs, Murdock gave off nervous vibes of ‘please don’t notice me’ and anxious tension. He made himself as small as possible in hope that everyone would just ignore him. He would have to get used to being alone again once everyone left him.

No one said anything. The air was thick with tension and high emotions. Hannibal was the first one to break the oppressive silence. His voice was laced with steel. It was his old commander’s voice, his ‘don’t fuck with me’ voice. It was the voice that demanded instant obedience.

“I want to know what’s going on right now.”

The conman stood facing him, barely a few feet away. Once upon a time, not too long ago, that voice would have had him rushing to obey, to carry out any orders. But not now, not anymore. Hannibal’s and B.A.’s reaction had severely pissed him off. And he let it show in his own tone of voice.

“Has it been so long for you that you don’t recognize two people making love?”

“Don’t be flippant, lieutenant! I want to know what kind of game you think you’re playing!”

“*Game*?! We’re not playing a game, Hannibal. We happen to be very much in love!”

Seeing the grimace on his C.O.’s face, Face started to press. Hannibal didn’t want to hear anything but his own version of the truth; that this was just a one time thing and then everything would go back to normal.

“What’s the matter, Colonel? You upset because you found out that you have a couple of queers on your team?”

Face saw the growing anger in the other man’s face, but he still continued. It was as if he couldn’t stop himself from talking. He wasn’t angry because Hannibal and B.A. found out about them. He was angry that their reactions only reinforced Murdock’s fears. Face had expected surprise, maybe even a *little* bit of anger, but not the looks of disgust in his team-mates’ eyes. All of his reassurances, his long pep talks to build up Murdock’s confidences, all of his speeches that everything would be ok, meant nothing now.

Now Murdock was afraid, and when he was afraid it pissed Face off. And when Face was pissed off, he did what he always did. He lashed out at like a wounded mountain lion at the cause of his lover’s trauma, in this case, Hannibal and B.A. And the weapon he used was his mouth.

“What’s the matter? Can’t faggots be in the military, too? Do you think us limp-wrist pansies can’t be real men? It must really stick in your craw to learn that you can’t control everything. For people who’ve always preached tolerance, you two are the biggest hypocrites I‘ve ever met. I bet that right now, B.A.‘s wondering if he’s gay. After all, Murdock did share his blood with him. He’s liable to catch queer any minute now. How ‘bout it, B.A.? Feeling the sudden need to wear pink and buy a spoiled poodle? At least now, all that jewelry won‘t go to a complete waste. Us faggots are great at accessorizing just about anything!”

As the arguing turned into shouting, Murdock curled up tighter and tighter. Every fear that he’d harbored about the inevitable confrontation was coming true. Yes, Face was defending their love, but for how long? How long could he hold out against both Hannibal and B.A.? How long did he have before Face turned on him, too? How long before he would be left on his own, once again?

Only this time, he wouldn’t have his grandparents there to pick up the pieces. He ‘d have no one there to hold him back from the yawning chasm of madness. When he was rejected for the final time, he’d welcome the coming insanity with open arms. Murdock would rather feel nothing, think nothing, *be* nothing then to be consumed once again by the heart-wrenching pain of being completely alone. And, like always in times of great distress, Murdock’s mind wondered.

By now, Hannibal was raging back at Face, ranting about keeping secrets, breeches in security, and the fact that Face had taken advantage of a man who was mentally unbalanced. What did Face know about love, he argued. The conman used people like cheap Kleenex. He was only with someone until he got what he wanted and then he dumped them, leaving other people to pick up the mess. He was not about to let Murdock be one of Face’s many discarded conquests. Not on his watch!

Both men were now sporting clenched fists, aching to take a swing, but somehow unwilling to be the first to lose total control. ‘Lose control and lose the battle,’ Hannibal had said in the past. The colonel had always taken great pleasure in poking his opponents, stirring up a hornet’s nest, so to speak. If they became mad enough, the ability to think, to strategize, was greatly reduced. They did stupid things and always got caught with their pants down.

And now, Hannibal and Face battled with each other and with themselves. Neither one of them was going to give the other the satisfaction of losing control. Doing so would make them look weak, and neither one of them would stand for that.

Disgusted by the whole display, B.A. tuned them out and focused his irritation on the pilot. The man was curled up in the chair, head pressed down into his boney knees, a white knuckled grip around his legs. Each shouted insult seemed to cause the pilot to shrink lower and lower. B.A. had only seen Murdock react like this a few times before in the camp. He would sit, balled up in a corner, trying to disappear from everyone and everything. It took a lot of talking from Face to get the fool to come out long enough to eat what little they were allowed. Like a turtle in its shell, Murdock refused to move, to eat, to respond to anyone or anything. He and Ray couldn’t straighten out the rigid body even when Murdock fell into an exhaustive sleep.

And now, just like it had before, the sight of Murdock in that position sent a cold shiver down B.A.’s spine. The big man watched in detached fascination as the other man began to shake and cover his head with trembling, clutching hands.

Murdock felt the beach house melt away the longer Face and Hannibal shouted at each other. The cawing sounds of the sea gulls, the sharp tang of ocean water and the warmth of the sunny day were replaced by the lowing cattle, brittle smell of dried hay and the sharp bite of the fall air.

He and David were in the last stall, kissing and shyly touching one another’s clothed body. They knew that there was more to it then this, but neither of them felt ready for that. Just holding each other, breathing each other’s scent, tasting the love they both felt, was the biggest thrill they’d ever had.

Suddenly, H.M. felt an explosion of pain in his back. Gasping in shock, he fell to the rough floor of the barn. Splinters dug into his hands as he slowly and painfully turned his head. His back felt as if it had caught on fire as he realized that his father was standing over him, the old milking stool hanging in his upraised arms, already broken by the blow across his back.

David had already taken off, escaping without a scratch. H.M. watched as his father discarded the broken stool and take off his belt, winding it around one large, work-worn fist so that the heavy buckle swung free. Hate, anger and disgust clouded his father’s brown eyes, twisting his features into something that H.M. had never seen on his beloved father’s face before. Sure, the old man was strict with his son and H.M had had his share of whippings before. But he had never had his father look at him as if he was some ‘thing’ to be feared and hated.

“Pa, I …”

H.M. never got to finish his sentence as he saw the hand with the belt in it rise and fall. He was barely able to cover his head as the heavy buckle sliced his arm open. The pain flared anew as he shuddered to think of what that would have done to his face.

He looked up into his father’s face, red with rage and hate. He froze there, fear striking him mute. His father began to shout, spit flying onto his only son’s upturned face. The young boy was helpless against the onslaught.

“Shut up, sinner! Spawn of Satan!! Heathen! Unnatural harlot! You are no flesh and blood of mine! You will burn in Hell for your sins! I have no son, you are *dead* to me! Do you hear me? I have no son! Get out! *Out*, I say! Get off my property you whore, you filthy slut, you unclean Sodomite! I will not have your perverted *filth* tainting a God fearing home!!”

The heavy fist descended again and all H.M. could do was to cover his head as blow after blow rained down upon him. He wanted to explain, to plead with his father to understand. But all he could do was huddle in a tight ball as the fiery pain exploded throughout his body. But the worst of it all was the names, the hateful names his father still called him. A whimper escaped though his tightly clenched teeth.

Once B.A. heard the whimper, he’d known that Murdock was completely lost inside his head. He’d never known Murdock to cry out in pain, not even when Face had cleaned the bloody whip marks across his back in the camp.

The baseball cap fell off without a sound as Murdock’s grasping, shaking hands continued to try to ward off invisible blows. Another whimper escaped unnoticed by the shouting men. But B.A. had heard. He had heard and seen enough to know that Murdock was in trouble and no matter what he might feel about the pilot, the big man knew that he would have to do something to help.

Crouching next to the huddled man, B.A. reached out and touched a trembling shoulder. The resulting flinch started B.A. and so did the mumbling that he could now hear under the raised voices of his teammates.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry ….”

There was a sudden silence, a cessation of shouted insults. B.A. looked up and saw that Face and Hannibal had momentarily frozen, staring at them. The only sound now in the room was their harsh, angry breathing and Murdock’s muttering. This time, Face was the first one to break the silence.

“Get your fucking hands off him!”

Blue eyes blazed with anger and B.A. flinched. He’d never had Face look at him that way. The conman was looming over him before he could blink.

“What did you do to him?!” he snapped out.

“Didn’t do nothin’ to ’im, man. He just started doin’ this.”

Face continue to glare until the other man abandoned his post. The blond knelt in front of the trembling man. Face found that his own hands shook as he stilled the clutching, pulling hands. He knew exactly which flashback this was about. He spoke softly to his traumatized lover.

“It’s alright, now. You’re safe. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe. It’s ok. You’re safe.”

Hannibal and B.A. glanced at each other, concern written in their faces. The colonel’s brief thought that Murdock might be faking just to stop them from fighting, fled. They had both seen this before, in the camp and when all four of them were on the run together.

After they had broken out of Fort Bragg, they’d located Murdock in that hellhole of a first hospital. Rescuing him had been easy, it was the following months that had become difficult for them all. During the months of behavior like this, and worse, the suspicion that Murdock was pulling their collective leg began to disappear. What had driven the idea home that the pilot was seriously ill was when he tried to hurt himself.

They hadn’t seen Murdock this bad off since getting him into Westwood. The kind pilot simply did not have it in him to pull something like this for attention.

“Get out.” The harshly spoken demand came out of nowhere, snapping the two men out of their memories of the past. Face repeated himself, “Get out, *now*.”

“Face, what’s wrong with Murdock?” Hannibal wanted answers.

The blond slowly stood up and faced his two teammates, his hands in white-knuckled fists by his side. His stance was wide and bracing, shielding Murdock from their view, guarding his lover from hurt. He kept his voice calm and low so that the trembling man behind him would not panic any further, but Hannibal and B.A. heard the deadly tone in Face’s voice.

“I want you two out of my house. *Now*. Murdock’s upset and I can’t calm him down if you’re here. So leave. This conversation is over.”

“I’m not leaving until I get an explanation, lieutenant.”

Face recognized the bulldog expression on his leader’s face. Nothing short of a grenade was going to get Hannibal out of this beach house.

“Fine,” he bit out. He fought for his own control as he tightly enlightened them on Murdock’s flashback. “You want to know what this is all about? Do you *really* want to know? I’ll tell you. When Murdock was a kid, he and another boy fell in love. At least, it was love on Murdock’s part. His bastard of a father caught them one day in the barn, kissing in a deserted stall. Just kissing! He flipped out and nearly beat Murdock to death. Called him all kinds of nasty names and kicked him off his property. He told him that he wasn’t his son anymore. Murdock managed to walk ten miles to his grandparents farm with a broken arm and bleeding all over the place. Ten *miles*, Hannibal! He was thirteen years old and he was nearly dead by the time he reached their farm. They took him to the hospital, had him patched up and tried to talk some sense into his father. But the fucker wouldn’t listen, wouldn’t even let them get Murdock’s clothes or anything else. The bastard burned everything that belonged to his own son. And not even that was enough for the old man. They lived ten miles from each other, ran into each other in town, even went to the same *church*. But his father refused to speak to him, he looked right through Murdock and acted as if his only son didn’t exist.

“How could a father do that to his own son? Murdock’s grandparents raised him after that, poured every bit of love they had into him, but it still hurts him to this day that his father hated him with his last breath. And the boy he was caught with? The one that swore that he loved Murdock? He turned his back on him, too. Murdock went to see him after he’d healed, to tell him that his grandparents knew what happened to him and they still loved him. They wouldn’t have to hide and meet in secret anymore. That little son-of-a-bitch told Murdock that he wasn’t a fucking fairy and broke his nose. He promised to do worse if Murdock came around him again. Murdock was thirteen and already had his heart ripped apart. It’s no wonder that he’s afraid of losing us, too. So now you know. So get out of our home and leave us alone.”

Face turned his back on his team mates and tried to sooth his distraught lover. He heard the front door close and heaved a sigh of relief. He knew that it wasn’t over, but at least he could concentrate on calming Murdock in peace.

He ran his now steady hands over Murdock’s head and hands, an action that had calmed the upset man down in the past. He spoke in low, hypnotic tones to break through all of Murdock’s barriers.

“Shhh, shhh. It’s alright, baby. I’m here. You’re safe with me. No one’s going to hurt you here. You’re safe. You’re *safe*.”

He continued with the petting and crooning, and gradually, the whimpers tapered off. The hands stopped clutching and the shuddering eased off. Face kept it up until large brown eyes appeared, staring sadly at the conman.

Murdock stared at his angel. He’d been trapped in Hell, his father screaming hate at him until he felt everything shatter inside. He’d been trapped in terror and in pain until a smooth loving voice silenced the torrent of hurtful words pouring out of his father’s mouth. Silenced at last, his father faded as Murdock followed that angel voice back to reality.

He was curled up on a chair, Face in front of him with that beautiful smile gracing his face. Staying still, he looked around, his glaze flickering from one corner of the room to the next, his eyes never staying still. Hadn’t B.A. and Hannibal been here? Were they in another room and getting ready to pounce right now?

Seeing the tension creeping back in, Face caught Murdock’s attention. “It’s ok,” the blond reassured the other man. “They left. I made them leave. It’s just you and me again.”

“They’re gone?”

“Yeah, they’re gone.”

“For good?”

Damn, why did Murdock have to sound so hopeful? Face hated to burst that one bright bubble. “No, not for good.”

The pilot’s expression crumpled and he began to hide his face again. However, Face wouldn’t let him. Bringing up his chin with his cupped hand, he swiftly kissed Murdock and replaced his fallen cap.

“Hey, there. I meant what I said before, baby. I’m here for you. I’ll *always* be here for you. No one and nothing is ever going to tear me away from you. I love you too much to let that happen. Don’t you still trust me?”

Murdock stared into those deep blue eyes. Of course he trusted Face. He trusted him with his heart and soul. Mind and body. *Literally* with his mind and body. Before Face, Murdock had been a virgin in every sense of the word. After the disaster with David, Murdock hadn’t trusted anyone enough to get close to because he was afraid of another betrayal. That is until he met Face. Face had been patient with him, listening to all his fears and banished them with the light of his love. And, if it hadn’t been for Face, Murdock would’ve stayed lost in his head in the camp, never coming out into the light again. Sometimes though, he wondered if that was a blessing or curse.

“Of course I trust you, Face. Always have.”

Face smiled his special smile, the one he only bestowed on Murdock. The pilot felt all warm and mushy inside every time Face looked at him like that. This time was no different. All the bad feelings and memories quickly fled in the light of that smile. He gave his own tentative grin and then yawned.

“Tired?” asked Face, concern coloring his voice.

Murdock nodded. Emotional melt downs tended to wear him out.

“Come on,” Face tugged Murdock to his feet. “Time for a nap before dinner.”

He led the other man back to the bedroom and quickly straightened the covers and pillows as Murdock toed off his shoes. He crawled in fully dressed and looked at Face with sad, trustful eyes.

“Stay?”

Face didn’t have the heart to refuse him. Taking off his own shoes, he stretched out beside the pilot, who latched onto him in a near bruising grip as if he was afraid that the other man would suddenly abandon him. The blond waited until the other man had settled down, rubbing smooth circles across his shoulders and back. Murdock drifted off into restless dreams as Face hummed, ’You are my sunshine’.

As the last bit of tension left his lover, the still awake conman began to make his own plans. If Hannibal and B.A. couldn’t be made to see reason, he’ll take Murdock and run. He had enough cash and connections to do it, everyone else be damned. He wasn’t going to be separated from Murdock. He knew that neither of them would be able to survive without the other. He felt himself drift off to sleep, thinking of fake I.D.s, false histories, and disguises. The house remained quiet until morning.

************************************

Hannibal paced in one of the many warehouses they owned a percentage of. He and B.A. had taken refuge there, staying in one of the backrooms that had been converted into a bedroom with two bunk beds for such times as this. It was nearing midnight, but Hannibal still paced, his mind whirling with all the information he’d learned just that afternoon. B.A.’s soft snores filled the night silence as Hannibal chewed on his unlit cigar.

He had known that Murdock was estranged from his father, but he had never known the cause of the rift until now. In ’Nam, he had watched as the impossibly young pilot faithfully wrote two letters a day; one to his father and one to his grandparents. He never knew what was in those letters, only knowing that the censors would black out any potentially confidential matters.

And, as slow as the mail was, he still saw Murdock hand his letters over to be sent back to the World. And at the end of every month, he watched as Murdock was handed back packs of unopened letters refused by his father.

Hannibal watched in near fascination as his captain merely put the letters away without a word or show of emotion and start a new letter. Upon further reflection, Hannibal noted that while Murdock talked a great deal, much to B.A.’s annoyance, he very seldom mentioned anything from his personal past. All he knew of Murdock was that his mother died when he was five and that he went to live with his grandparents at the age of thirteen. Almost nothing was said about the man who had raised him between those years.

But Face had known. Face had known exactly what happened between Murdock and his father and he’d been angry at a man he’d never met. What else had his two teammates been hiding from everyone?

Hannibal sighed and sat on the edge of his bed. He was tired, but his mind was too keyed up to rest. He could tell by the way Face had gone into a defensive mode that this had been going on for some time. There hadn’t been any ’It only happened this once’ or ’We were both drunk and didn’t know what we’re doing’ excuses.

So how was it that he missed the signs? He admitted that the two men shared rooms more often with each other then with himself or B.A. And with the hotel walls as paper thin as they usually were, neither B.A. or he had heard any obvious signs of a couple having sex in the next room. The colonel was also a very observant person, but he hadn’t noticed any touching or looks between the men that one usually sees between two love birds. So he wondered how in the hell the two of them got away with everything practically right under his and B.A.’s noses.

Hannibal looked over at his sleeping sergeant. *He* certainly wasn’t being kept away by any doubts or problems. They’d discussed the situation in the van on the way to their now temporary home. B.A. had been firmly convinced that Murdock was the one who had led Face astray. And Hannibal was just as sure that it had been Face who had started it all.

The big man had pointed out that Murdock was always hugging or touching or hanging on just about everyone. But, thinking on it now, it really didn’t seem so odd at the time. Murdock usually had a lot of pent up energy and that was one way that he expressed himself. Besides, in the camp Murdock had rarely let anyone near him. Sometimes not even Face had been allowed to touch the cringing pilot. Any attempts to do so usually caused Murdock to howl in fear and start throwing himself against the bars in terror, further injuring himself in the process.

B.A. continued to point out that Face didn’t act ’that way’. Actually, by being in the movie business, Hannibal had encountered plenty of homosexuals in the entertainment racket who seemed straight. Hell, you couldn’t swing a dead cat by the tail in a crowded room without hitting at least two openly gay couples. And who knew how many are still in the closet?

Besides, neither of his teammates gave out any vibes that screamed, ’Look at me! I’m a screaming Queen!’ Sure, Face dressed nice; expensive suits, silk pajamas, hundred dollar shoes. Even under the cover of gun fire, the blond still looked like he’d just stepped out of the cover of GQ.

Also, the two men didn’t exhibited any tell tale signs of homosexuality. No lisps, no prancing, mincing walking, no checking out other men’s asses. In fact, Face and Murdock acted pretty much normal. Well, Hannibal reflected with a wry grin, as normal as Murdock would ever get.

The older man shifted, trying to get comfortable. He needed to get some sleep, he had to be on his toes for his talk with Face the next day. They had to get this resolved, one way or another for all of their sakes.

A quick check of his illuminated watch told him that it was 3:06 a.m. Well, make that later that day. He’d call late, make sure he wasn’t ’interrupting’ anything. What he needed now was sleep. And a plan.

The late morning sun pried open a pair of deep blue eyes. Face stretched, muscles contrasting, bones cracking and popping from inactivity. A huge yawn and a belly scratch later had him searching for the clock radio, curious as to the time. He was stunned to find that it was after nine in the morning. He and Murdock had slept though dinner, the night, and breakfast the next day.

Speaking of which, Face smiled down on his still sleeping lover, his body a warm, comfortable weight against him. The pilot’s mouth was half opened, drooling on Face’s chest. In other words, Murdock looked his usual adorable self.

Face wiggled a bit, trying to tease Murdock into wakefulness. The other man merely latched on tighter to prevent his pillow from running away. The blond grinned impishly and, using the tip of one finger, lightly circled Murdock’s ear. The sleeping man reached up and scratched the affected ear and drifted off again. Face ran the same finger under the still sleeping man’s nose, scratching the whiskers. Murdock only snorted and rubbed his face against Face’s chest, getting rid of the irritation. Face sighed in defeat. He had wanted to tease his lover awake, but the usually light sleeper might as well be in a coma for all the good it was doing him now.

The conman wiggled and shifted until he was out of Murdock’s clutching embrace. Maybe the smell of coffee would do the trick. He could certainly use a cup himself. He padded off on socked feet in search of caffeine, leaving a dead-to-the-world Murdock still sprawled out on the bed.

Murdock jerked awake, disorientated and confused. This wasn’t the V.A. The bed he was in wasn’t the hard, narrow single bed he was used to in the hospital. This bed was large and now cold with just his body occupying it. A sunbeam sliced though the half opened curtains of a nearby unbarred window. The cry of sea gulls echoed outside, bringing memories back to Murdock.

He was in Face’s beach house and earlier that day, Hannibal and B.A. had walked in on them while they were making love. His usually tan face paled as he remembered the confrontation, the shouting and his own retreat into his head. Face’s voice had brought him back and they had both laid down for a nap.

But, now he woke up alone. Murdock remembered his dreams in full color and surround sounds. Hannibal and B.A. dragged Face away from him. And Face turned his back on Murdock, declaring ‘Don’t be stupid! I could never love something as disgusting as *you*!” Those images mixed with the memories of his father and they played over and over. He’d been paralyzed with fear and shame, unable to wake up from the horror his mind saw fit to torture him with. But, now he was awake. Awake and alone.

Murdock’s heart felt heavy and his gut clenched in fear. It was obvious to him what had happened. Face had finally had enough of him and he had left; left without even saying good bye. Well, he just got what he deserved, after all. You never said goodbye to trash before you threw it away. He felt like crying, but couldn’t summon up the strength to do it.

Murdock heaved a deep sigh. He needed to get up soon and make his way back to the V.A. But he couldn’t find the energy to do that, either. He then realized that he’d have to hoof it back, after having spent nearly everything he had on him for a present for Face.

Which he never got to give to his now former lover. He idly wondered if the store would take it back, but decided to keep it as a memento. He needed something physical to remember his lost love and family, now that he was left with nothing but memories.

He was so lost in his misery that he totally missed seeing Face walk into the bedroom, two cups of hot coffee in his hands.

Face was struck by the waves of unhappiness coming from the man sitting forlornly on the bed. ’He must still be upset from yesterday’, he thought.

“Murdock, everything’s going to be alright. I promise.”

Startled, the man on the bed flinched and stared at Face as if he had never seen the other man before.

“You’re still here?” he blurted out.

“Of course I’m still here. Where else would I be?”

A guilty look crossed the pilot’s face as brown eyes began to look everywhere but at the other man in the room. Face frowned as Murdock suddenly found the bed spread extremely fascinating.

“I told you that I wasn’t like David. I’m not going to abandon you. Why don’t you believe me?”

Murdock fought a trembling lower lip when he heard the disappointment in his lover’s voice. Still staring at the bed spread, he said, “ I . . . I believe you, Face. It’s just that . . . just that I dreamed that Hannibal and B.A. dragged you away from me. And . . . and that you turned your back on me. And . . . and then I woke up and you weren’t here and . . . and I just thought that you left me for good. I’m sorry. I’m just being stupid again.”

Blue eyes softened as Face placed the coffee on a bedside table and gathered the distraught man up in his arms.

“You’re not being stupid, honey. The dreams just got you upset, that’s all. The same thing would’ve happened to me if I had woken up alone.”

There was a muffled, “Really?”, somewhere in the vicinity of Face’s neck.

“Yes, really. I’m making you a promise, Murdock. No one, not Hannibal, not B.A., not anyone else, is ever going to break us apart. It’s you and me, forever.”

“Heart promise?” asked Murdock very softly.

“Heart promise,” Face whispered back, fighting the tears that wanted to come. Heart promises were very special promises. Ones that wasn’t ever made lightly and could never be broken. Promises of dinner dates, movies, quiet days together were often broken due to jobs and close brushes with Decker, or Hannibal deciding that they all needed extra training. Those promises were broken and mended on a regular bases.

But heart promises were made *from* the heart *to* the heart. Face had made a heart promise to get Murdock out of the P.O.W. camp alive. And he did it. Or rather, it had been Hannibal’s plan, but he had been the main one to take care of Murdock; tending his wounds, getting food and water down him, talking him back to reality when the other man was too far into himself to know where he was or what was happening to him.

Face had also made a heart promise to never leave him feeling alone. The team had made visits when he’d been too sick to be broken out for jobs. They wanted him to know that they were still a team, still a family. And Murdock had gotten better, more grounded in reality thanks to Face’s love and attention. So if Face had heart promised that they would be together, no matter what anyone said, then that was that.

Murdock came out from his hiding place and smiled at his lover. Then he took a deep, cleansing breath. “One of those coffees for me?”

Face grinned, picked one up and held it out of reach. “What do I get for it?”

Murdock reached up and pulled the blond’s head down. Nibbling on the lower lip, Murdock slipped his tongue into the warm, receptive mouth for a long, slow kiss.

Tongues dueling, Murdock’s hands reached into the blond’s shirt and began to play with the tight nipples, causing all of the blood in Face’s body to head south. Murdock then tangled one hand in the conman’s blond hair, deepening the kiss and causing the other man’s hips to twitch in anticipated bliss. Just as Face began to moan in pleasure and wonder how quickly he could tear their clothes off, the pilot reached over with one hand and liberated the coffee.

“Thanks,” he told Face, leaving the bed to drink standing up. The conman sat there looking confused, bewildered, and still rock hard, wondering what the hell just happened.

He blinked a few times until his sluggish mind worked out the problem. He pouted at his now grinning lover.

“You don’t play fair.”

“Nobody plays fair when it comes to caffeine, baby.” After a quick glance down, Murdock cheekily added, “Did you bring a cup for your friend?”

Face and Murdock looked down at the very persistent erection shouting for attention.

Face frowned at the offending body part as Murdock looked smug. ‘Damn it! And he had a right to be,’ the conman thought. The man always could get him hard even in a blizzard. Hell, just being around the other man made him hard and aching even without kissing or touching.

There was a devilish glint in those brown eyes as Murdock asked, “Need any help with that lil’ problem you seem to be having?”

Face matched his grin. ’Oh, good!’ he thought. ’Murdock was definitely in ’the mood’’. But his mind shifted gears when he glanced at the clock. No, no, no. Not good, not good at all. He had to have Murdock back for his eleven o’clock appointment with Dr. Richter.

The fact that Murdock liked this particular doctor was sort of strange, to Face’s way of thinking. Any other psychiatrist and Murdock had no problem blowing off a session. But if there were no jobs involved, Murdock always made sure that he was back at the hospital for his appointments. If Face was an overly jealous man, he would be concerned about this doctor/patient relationship.

Once, he had asked about this Dr. Richter, Murdock had told him that the man had always tried to treat him like an equal. He didn’t treat the pilot like an idiot child and talked down to him like many of the other doctors did. So, Face always tried to get Murdock back on time for his sessions. And the fact that Murdock did seem to be somewhat on a more even keel was an added bonus.

Face heaved a regretful sigh. “Sorry, baby. But after washing up, changing your clothes and fighting traffic, you’ll just have time to make your appointment. But we can always make up for lost time later.”

Murdock frowned at this information. “But I don’t have to be back ‘til Wednesday.”

“It *is* Wednesday. We slept though most of Tuesday. I guess we were more worn out then usual.”

And didn’t that sound more disappointing then it should have? Murdock just nodded, downed his coffee, went to the bathroom and started shaving. Face joined him at the double sink and matched the pilot’s economical movements with his own.

Freshly shaven, they changed clothes and left without bothering to fix anything to eat. Neither of them had much of an appetite anyway. Face would be back later to clean, refill the fridge and to clear out any belongings. Although the owners wouldn’t be back for another week, the house now felt tainted to the conman.

He had just dropped Murdock off a block away from Westwood with a quick kiss and a promise to call later, when the car’s mobile phone rang. There were only three people who had that number and he had just left the most important one.

Face picked up on the fourth ring after deciding to just get everything over with once and for all.

“Warehouse number four, thirty minutes,” Hannibal said and he immediately hung up without waiting for a reply or argument.

T.B.C.