Discovery 2b
Title: Discovery
Author: Soulseeker
Fandom: The A-Team
Part: 2b/?
Status: Final Draft
Rating: R 17 for mature adults
Beta: The wonderful Kerensa who was very patient with me
Warning: adult situations, deals with rape, bad language, mentions torture, physical, mental and sexual
Summary: Hannibal and B.A. find out about Murdock and Face. They’re not happy
Feedback Level: 2
Disclaimers: I owe nothing but bills. You can have those if you really want to.
Part two
Feeling trapped, B.A. scanned the enclosed yard, looking for another way out. The thick wooden fence connected solidly at the corners of the back walls with no outside door. B.A. absently admired the carpentry work; solid, thick and smooth with no visible holes or cracks. It rose to the level of the underside of the roof so there was no way to easily climb it. Even if someone had a ladder, it was a long drop on the other side. The only way out of here it would be to smash though it and B.A. didn’t the energy or desire to destroy a fence when he didn’t have to.
B.A. looked over at his fellow silent prisoner. Face had his back to him, still facing the door, the tension still evident in his rigid shoulders. The big man knew that he would have to make the first move. He recognized the stubborn stance and knew that Face would rather eat rusty nails than to show any supposedly sign of weakness by speaking first.
Knowing that the subject of Murdock just might earn him another pop on the jaw, no matter how well deserving the first one had been, B.A. opened his mouth and prayed that he wouldn’t stick his foot in it once again.
“This fence was put up pretty good. Whoever did it must be a good contractor. Any idea on who it was? We can use some help with some repair work around the center. That is, if we can afford them. Craftsmanship like this must’ve cost a bundle.”
Face’s voice was cold as ice as he answered. “Murdock and I helped Jen’s father, Floyd, and his four sons put it up a few days after Christmas when Cody was two. Right after the next door neighbor’s kid threw a beer bottle at Cody’s head after calling him a baby faggot. Fortunately, it just barely missed him by an inch and it took all of us to hold down Floyd from going after the snot nosed punk. We confronted the parents, who were both drunk, about the incident. They denied that their perfect, precious baby boy could have done such a thing. One of them called the police to complain that the two queers next door were harassing them.
“Two cops in a squad car showed up and listened to both sides. The parents swore their innocent little lamb had been opening presents at the time the bottle was ‘allegedly ’ thrown. Not only that, they claimed that they were about to do their Christian duty, and out of the goodness of their own hearts, by getting ready to go to a local homeless shelter to serve food to the poor down-trodden souls when the neighborhood queers and their queer loving family showed up and started harassing them for no good reason. Fifteen people, all friends and family of Jen’s and Susan’s, saw it all, but who do you think the police listened to? Fifteen sober people or the drunk, off-duty *COP*? I’ll give you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”
B.A. look at the fence and clinched his hands. No one, absolutely no one hurt a child that B.A. knew. It might’ve happened four years ago but B.A. was still angry all the same. Cop or not, the big man was determined to have it out with him and put the fear of B.A. Baracus into him.
“Just point me in the right direction and I’ll take care of him. And that little punk, too. Nobody hurts a little kid, nobody. I don’t care how old the boy is, I’ll straighten them both out.”
Face snorted at that, his back still turned. “Forget it, Sergeant. I took care of it myself. I found out who held the mortgage on the place and made them an offer they couldn’t refuse. Apparently those fine, up standing citizens were habitually late with payments and made unreasonable demands for repairs on things they damaged themselves and denied doing. Two weeks later they were gone and Jen found a nice older Jewish couple to buy the place. The people spoil Cody rotten and think the world of Jen and Suzie. So there is no need for any macho bullshit. Faggots take care of each other.”
That last bit was a deliberate dig and B.A. had to force himself to not react. If he pounded on Face like he wanted to, he would just upset Cody and make his mothers mad at him.
While B.A.’s temper cooled, Face’s simmered higher. He didn’t bother to inform him about Murdock’s reaction to it all. As predicted, it hadn’t been good but he had managed to hold it all in until that night. Face had thought that everything was fine until he was woken by his lover having a whopper of a nightmare, complete with Murdock wetting the bed.
As he cleaned up Murdock, the bed and settled them both on the couch, Face learned more about a man he had never met but still hated with a white hot passion.
The booze soaked, profanity spouting cop had triggered something deep inside of Murdock’s subconsciousness that had lurked like an undiscovered cancerous growth that struck in the darkest of the night. Daddy Murdock might’ve been a bible-thumping-halleluiah-sprouting-hypocrite, but he was also apparently a mean drunk son-of-a-bitch who was very free with the use of his fists, feet or anything else he could lay his hands on. These weren’t the mere ’whippings’ that Murdock had always alluded to, a simple swat or two on the backside that Face had always imagined. The criminal level of abuse that a half asleep Murdock told him about that night made him physically sick.
Face had been corporally disciplined in the orphanage himself a time or two. Or twenty or thirty times over the years. But, they mostly consisted of a Sister rapping his knuckles with a wooden ruler or being hauled off to Father Magill’s office by his ear. Nothing that had lasted more then a moment or two; a brief flair of pain before the lecture on his sinful ways started, turning to a dull throb that began to fade by the time he said his penance, and long forgotten by the time of his next transgression.
Face had never had to do a hard day’s labor with bruised ribs because he had brushed his teeth too loud while his father was suffering from a hangover after a night of heavy drinking. He never had to tell his teachers that the shiner he sported was from milking a rambunctious cow and not because he allowed dinner, that he cooked, get cold because daddy dearest spent most of the night at the local drinking hole and didn’t get home until three in the morning. Murdock had been eight at the time. Apparently, the day that Mr. Murdock discovered his one and only son making out with another boy wasn’t the first time that he beat the shit out of the younger Murdock. But, it had been the last and Face could only be grateful for that.
No wonder Murdock never really complained about his injuries the V.C. inflicted on him. He’d been trained by his father work though the pain, to accept the punishment even though he never deserved such treatment. It was a wonder that his sweet Murdock didn’t follow in the bastard’s footsteps.
Murdock very rarely drank, especially anything more than a beer or two and until he went into the service, never raised his hand to anyone. Even now, he waits until the first punch is thrown before he defends himself. However, if someone else was in trouble, he was more then willing to start and finish a fight.
It had amazed Face at the time that Murdock was even able to function at all, nightmares and bed wetting aside. Yeah, he lived in a nut house, but he was a high functioning nut. He could’ve turned to drugs, become an alcoholic or ended up homeless but he didn‘t. And yes, for a while, too long a time in Face’s opinion, he sank so far into his mind that he refused to come out for years. But, he’d gotten better, *was* better, even if he did slip every now and then.
But, that wasn’t any of B.A’s business. Or anyone else’s business. Not even Murdock’s.
When they had woken up on the couch the next morning, Murdock had no memory of the nightmare or how they ended up on the couch. In fact, he had no clear memory after leaving Jen and Suzie’s house. Face had spun a very believable tale of eating a late night snack and watching the old black and white Christmas movies on one of the T.V. channels. No mention of a night terror about a long dead bastard who still had the power to make a grown man piss himself from fear.
Murdock swallowed it without any questions and Face added one more secret to the pile that he kept to himself. A pile that he guarded as closely as a old jealous millionaire with a hot new stripper wife. And a few weeks ago, one of those secrets snuck out like the ex-stripper screwing the pool boy.
Silence reigned once again.
B.A. cased around for something to say that didn’t involve Murdock and reopening old wounds.
“Susan said that a friend of hers recommended my daycare center. Was that you?”
Face’s body and voice was still tight with suppressed tension and anger when he answered. “Yeah, that was me. I thought that Cody would be safe and happy there. You wouldn’t believe how cruel grownups can be to kids who come from different families. A six year old child shouldn’t be told that his mother is going to Hell for loving another woman. A six year old child shouldn’t see someone throw rocks and bottles at his mothers either. A six year old child shouldn’t wake up with nightmares about someone killing him because his parents are gay. And a six year old child shouldn’t have to change daycare centers ten times before he’s even in the first grade. Don’t worry, B.A., I‘ll find another center for Cody or I’ll find a way to hire a reasonably priced full time nanny for Susan and Jennifer. It won’t be your problem anymore.”
It angered B.A. that Face could ever think that he would ever hurt a child. Reaching out with one large hand, he grabbed Face’s shoulder and spun the conman around. “You know that I wouldn’t hurt a kid, no matter who his parents are!”
Face met the anger with a strange calmness of his own. “I used to think that. I also used to think that you would never really hurt Murdock either. But I was wrong. And if I was wrong about that, what else could I be wrong about? I can’t really be sure of anything anymore, can I?”
B.A.’s anger disappeared in a rush and shame replaced it as he remembered what he had said about the pilot. No wonder the other man thought that he would cause trouble for a little boy.
“I said that I was sorry about that. I don’t even know why I said those things in the first place. All I know is that I was angry at the two of you for keeping a secret like that. And I guess by the way me and Hannibal reacted, I can’t blame you for not telling us.”
Face said nothing because there really was nothing to say. It wasn’t an explanation and it wasn’t an apology. It was a statement of fact and nothing more.
The blond sat down on the edge of the small porch, making himself comfortable for the long wait. It was too soon to convince Susan and Jennifer that he and B.A. had become best pals. If B.A. would just become his usually silent self, then Face would be able to concentrate on possibly finding a suitable sitter for Cody.
The retired couple next door would be able to pitch in for a few days, but they wouldn’t be able to do it for the long haul. They were getting on in years and an active six year old would wear them down within a few weeks. Finding someone reliable to work full time would be a long and slow process and trying to find one pearl amongst the bigots would be a headache.
More then one uptight prude had abruptly walked out as soon as she found out that the parents were a gay couple. Usually it was right at the interview and even one vindictive old bitch had left a two month old Cody screaming in his playpen. If Jennifer hadn’t had to return for a forgotten listing file, the poor boy would have been left alone all day. Face had no doubt that the woman had intended to call the child protective services and report Susan and Jennifer as negligent parents.
Maybe B.A. would keep his promise and keep his mouth shut about his new knowledge about Cody. And just maybe not. It was too soon to tell and Face wasn‘t about to let Jen and Susan needlessly worry about childcare when real life threw them enough curveballs as it was.
B.A. settled himself down beside Face with a sigh. He was out of his element dealing with something like this and he didn’t like it. He was good with children; they trusted him and he protected them as best as he could. This revelation about Cody shouldn’t change that and it didn’t. If he really thought about it, Cody wasn’t very different from a lot of kids at his center. Most of them came from broken homes where there wasn’t a strong father figure. It seemed that Cody was not very different from them, with the exception of having two mothers.
It was along this thought that B.A. broke the oppressive silence. “What about Cody’s father? What does he think about all this?”
That earned him a murderous glare from Face. His voice was hard and frosty when he answered that seemingly innocent question. B.A. had not heard that tone in the blonde’s voice since ’Nam and he was wishing that he wasn’t hearing it now.
“Jennifer was raped almost seven years ago by an unknown assailant. He broke into her house when she was alone, almost beat her to death and raped her. She was in a coma for two weeks and had to have extensive plastic surgery to repair the damage to her face. She spent a month in the hospital and a lot of that was because of depression. By the time she realized that she was pregnant, it was too late to have an abortion. Despite the sperm donor, Jennifer and Susan decided to keep the baby. They’ve never regretted that decision. Jennifer wasn’t raped because she’s a lesbian or because she ‘asked for it‘. She was only one of many raped by this guy and the police still don’t have a fucking clue about who did it. And if I ever find out who did do it, I’m going to rip his balls off myself and make damn sure that he doesn’t touch another woman again.”
“So, Jennifer’s the one you told us about.”
“Huh?”
“You said that you knew the signs of someone who had been raped. It was because of Jennifer isn‘t it?”
Face’s eyes held a far away look as he answered. “No, B.A. I learned a long time ago about how depraved and perverted people can be. When I was thirteen, one of the nuns at the orphanage had been attacked. Sister Mary Francis was one of my favorite nuns there, a tiny little thing, too. She was always smiling and singing. She let us get away with almost anything. Everyone loved her. Then one day she had been out running some errands and some sick bastard dragged her into an alley and raped her. In broad daylight, B.A. He hurt her pretty bad. After she got out of the hospital, she wasn’t our Sister Mary Francis any more. She never smiled again. She never sang again. She flinched every time a larger boy entered the room. Six months after the rape, she transferred to a cloistered convent in Colorado. The last time I had heard of her, she hadn’t stepped off the convent grounds since she entered their gates. She just kind of faded away. She was a *nun*, B.A. A Bride of Christ. She was suppose to be unsoiled and untouched by any man. She was supposed to be pure in mind, body and spirit. She was raped while wearing a full habit. So, you just tell me right now that she ‘asked’ for it.”
Face’s blue eyes were bright with remembered pain. B.A. had never felt so ashamed of himself before in his whole life. Silence stretched again.
“I’m not doubting that you and Murdock have some kind of feelings for each other, but how can the two of you do, you know, after what happened to Murdock in the camp? How can you even want to after knowing what he’s been through? ”
Faster then a striking snake, another emotion quickly replaced pain for a childhood memory. Face’s voice was harsh and low with suppressed rage. “For God’s sake, Murdock was a *victim*, you asshole. Like Jennifer. Like Sister Mary Francis. Like hundreds of men, women and children sexually attacked by strangers or by people they know. Yes, B.A., men can be a victim of rape just like women and they can be gay or straight. The only reason male rape isn’t as well known is because too many men are reluctant to come forward. They don’t want to be ridiculed because they couldn’t protect their so-called ‘macho manhood‘. Sexual assault only happens to weak-defenseless females, not to big, strong men. Rape isn’t just about sex, it’s about *power*, the sadistic power of one person over another.
“Jennifer was very open about her own assault a few months after we had met and began to ’date’. She knew that I was very devoted to Murdock and that helped her to open up to me about why she needed a shill herself. She had invented a dead fiancée to explain Cody to her new co-workers. She never told them that she was raped because she didn’t want to deal with their pity or have Cody treated like a repulsive leper. She told me that it took her a long time to stop feeling ashamed about what happened to her and she wanted to know up front if I was going to treat her differently now that I knew her secret.
“I told her the same thing I’m telling you now. I told her that she was a survivor. That what happened to her didn’t have to cripple her, that it didn’t mark her with big red letters, that she was dirty or tainted or damaged goods; that people would stop loving her if they knew the truth about what happened to her. Rape is a horrible violation, a terrible event that happened to her, but she survived, she lived though it and she’s able to work though it with the help of therapy, her partner and the love of her family.“
“Rape victims shouldn’t be defined for the rest of their life by a traumatic event. It doesn’t have to take their souls, their hearts, their minds and bodies. They shouldn’t be made to feel unlovable because someone forced themselves on them sexually. Just because the bruises heal doesn’t mean the wound is gone or isn’t there at all. It’s the wounds on the inside, the ones no one can see, that heal the slowest, if they heal at all. To treat them as if their rape was their own fault, that they’re dirty, that they would always be a victim and should never deserve to be treated with kindness or love, would be to deny that they’re human at all.“
“Like Jennifer, Murdock is a survivor. He has an adult’s need to be loved, he feels the same passions that everyone else does. To deny him that, to deny *any* survivor that, would be an abomination.”
“I’m sorry, Face. I’m sorry about everything I said about the fool back at the warehouse.”
“I know, B.A. I know and Murdock knows. He’s already forgiven you. You might have to wait awhile before you get mine.”
“You told him about what I said?! How could you, man?”
“I told him everything about our meeting, B.A. I didn’t want him to have any nasty surprises if someone accidentally lets something slip about what was said. When I told you and Hannibal about Murdock’s rapes, I betrayed his trust. It wasn’t intentional, but it happened all the same and I needed him to know the full truth. I needed his forgiveness. Murdock and I don’t keep important things like that from each other.”
“Just from me and Hannibal, huh?”
“Considering your reactions, do you really blame us?”
More silence.
“Do you know, B.A.,” Face broke the silence this time. “That Murdock didn’t even have to fly us out on that mission that landed us in the P.O.W. camp? It was his bastard of a father’s fault.”
“What’re you talking about, man?”
“Murdock’s grandparents died a week before that mission. He should’ve gotten a compassionate emergency leave. He should’ve been at their funerals the day we went out on that mission. But his father had hated his own son so much that he didn’t even bother to get in touch with Murdock with the news. Can you beat that, B.A.? If it wasn’t for him, Murdock wouldn’t be in such bad shape now. He wouldn’t have been tortured, starved or raped. Murdock shouldn’t have been with us.“
“When we were recovering in the hospital, he wouldn’t even talk to Murdock on the phone. I even posed as a General to try to talk to him. Bastard said that his son was dead to him and hung up. Father Magill was the one who called the only church in town to try to get in touch with Murdock’s grandparents. That’s how we found out about the fire that took them both in the middle of the night. I was the one who had to break the news to Murdock. All that shit he went through was nothing compared to what I told him about his grandparents. I think that is what finally broke him, B.A. Not the beatings. Not the starvation. Not even the rapes truly kept him down. But when I told him that the people who had always loved, cherished and supported him were dead, had been dead for months, something shattered inside of him that day. I saw his heart die in his eyes, B.A.”
B.A. frowned in concentration. He remembered the hospital they went to after they had escaped and found their way to a base camp where they had been evacuated out. He remembered walking in on Face, Murdock and Ray one afternoon. He’d just been released himself that day and was going to visit Murdock to see how the ill pilot was doing. Murdock had still been hooked up to drips and tubes and things that beeped.
Murdock had been sobbing uncontrollably, clinging to Face’s still skinny frame. Ray had spotted him and hustled him out, telling him that Murdock had just had another nightmare. He hadn’t thought anything about it at the time, he’d had his share of bad dreams about the camp himself. He and Hannibal hadn’t known until much later that Murdock’s grandparents had died. But, now he knew he would’ve reacted much the same way if it had been his mother who had died.
Face’s voice was still bitter and brittle as he continued to talk. It was as if he had to talk or stop breathing.
“The beating, the hatred, the pure cruelty that his father had shown to his one and only son was nothing compared to what he did next. He buried Murdock’s grandparents together in a pauper’s grave without even a marker to tell who they were. Somehow, the bastard had even destroyed all of the burial records for the cemetery. They claimed that there was a fire, but I just know that he had a hand in it somehow. But his hatred for his only son still wasn‘t satisfied.“
“A few years ago, Murdock and I visited his home town to put flowers on his mother’s grave for Mother’s day. It was the first time he’d been back since leaving home and entering the service. We went to the cemetery, walked around and couldn’t find it on the first pass. The graveyard had changed and expanded since the last time Murdock had been there. He couldn’t remember where she was buried or who she was buried next to. So, we searched again, walking up and down the rows of graves looking for Rebecca Murdock. We couldn’t find her headstone, B.A. I thought that maybe some kid had vandalized the graveyard and stolen it. There was a lot of them missing. But a caretaker there remembered that some guy had ordered Rebecca Murdock to be dug up and moved to another cemetery. The description that he gave of the man matched Murdock’s father. But it had been too many years before and he couldn’t remember where she had been moved to. That record was also destroyed in the fire.
“That son of a bitch had her removed for pure spite, B.A. Just so that her son couldn’t find any comfort from the first person who had ever loved him unconditionally. I may not know who my parents were or why they threw me away, but I do know that no father should hate his only son like that. Murdock regressed badly because of that trauma. He became nearly catatonic because of that vindictive bastard. I wished that he had been buried because I wanted to dig the fucker up and tear him limb from limb for taking Murdock’s mother away from him like that.
“But even from beyond the grave, his poison still reached out to Murdock. He left instructions that Murdock wasn’t to be notified of his death, that he be cremated and his ashes scattered in the woods behind his house. His livestock was to be given away, the house and barn to be burned with everything in them, the fields to be plowed with salt so that nothing would ever grow there again and the land sold for a fucking *dollar* to a land developer. There’s a strip mall where Murdock’s inheritance should be. He left his only son with nothing but a head full of bad memories. Murdock’s lost everything he had ever loved when he was younger. So you see B.A., is it any wonder why he is so terrified of losing me?”
B.A. sat stunned with this new revelation. How could a father hate his son so much to do that? He had grown up in a poor, tough neighborhood and had been fortunate to have a father, no matter how briefly, that had really loved him. He had seen his friends come to school with bruises, burns, broken limbs and injuries, who had been abused both physically and emotionally by their fathers, step-fathers or their mother’s current boyfriends. Many of them didn’t even know who their real daddies were. But no one, absolutely no one, had ever done something like that to a kid.
“You ever tried to find her? Murdock’s mama?”
“Sure I have. But do you have any idea how many Rebecca Murdocks there are in this country? Even if Murdock could remember the exact date that she died, he couldn’t remember what year she was born in. And we don’t know when she was moved. And even if we *did* know all that, there’s no guarantee that bastard buried her under her real name. He could have had her cremated and tossed her ashes in some dump somewhere. I wouldn‘t put anything past that fucker.”
Now B.A. *really* felt sick to his stomach. To not know where your mama’s remains were must be the worst kind of hell that he could imagine. Silence once again fell between them, but it was a more comfortable quiet then before.
Actually, Face realized that he felt better, lighter. It seemed that unburdening some of his secrets had lifted some of the doom and gloom from his life. Even if that person was B.A., half of the other problem he had. Perhaps B.A. wouldn’t ever see the light, but at least now he would have a better understanding of Murdock’s past and hopefully wouldn’t judge him as harshly as he had always had.
That was something that Murdock never did. Make snap judgments. He didn’t care if you were black, white, gay, straight, Catholic or Jewish. You were a friend until you weren’t. He’d even defended Tommy Angel until he saw with his own eyes what a scum bag traitor he was.
This time, it was Face who broke the silence. “He defended you, you know. Murdock, I mean. He told me that you were just in shock over finding us like that. That you didn’t mean to say what you did. That everything was going to be ok. He even offered to break up for a while, just until you and Hannibal get used to the idea of us. I squashed that idea real quick. I told him that *no one* was going to come between us. And before you think that Murdock was looking for an excuse to break it off anyway, he was stuttering at the time. And you know that Murdock only stutters under extreme emotional stress.”
“He was stuttering? And he offered to break up with you? If he loves you so much, why would he do that?”
“For the good of the team, B.A. Murdock would throw himself on a grenade for us, make no mistake about that. He doesn’t want to be the cause of the team breaking up for good. He offered to leave the team to keep us together. But I told him that without him, there *was* no team. I can’t live without him, B.A. It’s just as simple as that.”
“But it ain’t right, Face. It’s in the Bible. You can’t argue with that.”
“So is killing and we both did plenty of that in the war. We’re also not suppose to steal, lie or eat pigs and we’ve both done plenty of that too. It also preaches against multiple wives but that never stopped some of the Mormons. The Bible also said that if a man’s brother dies, the brother should marry the widow even if he’s already married. It also preached against having sex with your daughter but there are plenty of sick bastards out there who do that too. One thing that you don’t want to do is to get in a religious debate with a Catholic. I grew up in a Catholic orphanage, I went to mass every morning before school and we had mass during school. I went to church every day and twice on Sunday. I was an altar boy. I know the Bible better than most people know their own names. The Bible also says to love the sinner but not the sin. That’s one thing that you and Hannibal don’t seem to get. Murdock and I love each other and we’re not going to let anyone else decide who we should and shouldn’t love.”
“But still, I don’t think it’s right. Murdock’s not capable of making that kind decision. He ain’t right in the head. He don‘t know what he‘s doing.”
“Murdock’s mentally disturbed, not mentally handicapped! He’s fully able to carry on a normal adult relationship. He’s a grown man, B.A., with a grown man’s desires and needs. He just wants what everyone else has. Love. Companionship. The right to grow old with someone you care about. What’s wrong with that?”
“But, why Murdock? Why him at all? If you have to be gay, there are plenty of other guys out there that you can choose from. Guys who ain’t crazy.”
Face smiled at thought of Murdock. This was a subject close to his heart, one that he could talk about for hours.
“’If I have to be gay’? Really, B.A.? Do you *really* think that you can turn your attractions for someone on and off like that? You can’t turn your feelings off like a leaky faucet. Besides, he makes me happy, B.A. Is that so wrong?”
“But how . . . wait, I don’t want to know anything that goes on between the two of you. I saw enough at the beach house.”
Face waited for the flare of anger at the mention of the beach house but it never came. Maybe discussing Murdock’s positive effects with B.A. was mellowing him out.
“When I’m with Murdock, I can be myself. I can relax around him and not try so hard to be someone I‘m not.”
“What do you mean by that? You’re always yourself.”
“Am I B.A.? What do you *really* know about me? When I’m with Murdock, there’s no pretending, no reason to try to impress someone with a bunch of lies about who I am, who I was and what I do for a living. When I dated women, I was always trying so hard to impress them, buying them anything they asked for, trying to make them love me. But with Murdock, I don’t have to do that. Murdock never asked me for anything. Well, unless it was for a job that is. But off the job, he never expected anything from me. Not special tools, acting jobs, cigars, things for the daycare center,” Face held up a hand to stop B.A. from speaking.
“It’s not that I minded doing those things for you guys. Even though I haven’t actually heard anyone say ‘thank you’ for the last few years, I really didn’t mind. It’s just that, sometimes I feel like you and Hannibal take me for granted. That all you have to do is demand something and then ‘poof’, I make it happen in an instant. It doesn’t work that way. It takes skill, concentration, street smarts and pure luck to make a good scam work. Especially within a few moments notice. I’m good at my job, B.A. but even I’m not infallible. And when something does goes wrong, when something is impossible to get by scamming and I have to shell out what money I have on me at the time, a simple ’thank you’ every now and then would be appreciated. Not expected, but appreciated all the same.“
“I’m not telling you this to make you feel guilty or to be constantly thanked for doing my job, but it just never occurred to Murdock to ask for anything for himself. Do you know that he’s so insecure that he doesn’t think that he deserves anything at all? And do you know what really makes him happy, what really makes him smile? Comic books. Video games. Yo-yo’s . Frisbees. Simple, childish things to you and me, B.A., but they mean the world to him. Every time I give him something, no matter how small or trivial, it’s a surprise to him, like he can’t believe that he deserves anything from me, not even my love. Can you imagine having such a low opinion of yourself? To think that you don’t deserve *any* kind of happiness?“
“And you can’t believe what little effort it takes to makes him smile. Taking out a woman on a date means getting dressed up in a tux, renting a limo, going to the theatre and having a expensive meal at an upscale restaurant. The conversation is always a bit tense, not knowing what to say to each other, not knowing what you can and can’t talk about. You try to remember which cover you’re under, who you really are and hoping that you won’t trip yourself up with another life that you’re leading. The whole night feels false, a sham, and you feel like the world’s biggest fake. Which, when you think about it, you are. You make things up about your name, your family, your job. And all the while, you keep an eye out for unknown bad guys and the military police.“
“And don’t try to tell me that you’re completely honest with the ladies that you’ve dated. ’Hi, I’m B.A. Baracus. I’m a fugitive from the military police. I have no steady job and I get paid to beat up bad guys. Do you want to grab a pizza and go to a wrestling match? My last steady job? Oh, I started off as a mechanic in the army, but I ended up on a team that killed the enemies of Truth, Justice and the great American Way.“
“The point that I am trying to make is, you *have* to lie. You tell yourself that you do it to protect the women, that you’re doing it to protect them from the bad guys or from being hounded by the military. You tell yourself that you’re doing it to protect yourself, that you’re making things up to make yourself feel better about having to constantly call dates off, constantly moving around so that they don’t know where you live. And finally, when they call it off because women crave the stability that you can’t give them, you tell yourself that you’ve protected your heart from breaking. You can call it whatever you want, but it’s still *lying*.”
B.A. knew that he should have stopped Face from talking, but he couldn’t when he realized that what the blond was saying was true. All of it. He *had* lied to the ladies that he had dated. He’d never started to, never intentionally led someone on, but when you had to break date after date because of missions, of suddenly leaving in the middle of dinner because you spotted a cop staring a bit too long at you, well, you had to fib a little to make them feel better about themselves. B.A. had used that tired old line of ’its not you, it’s me’ so many times he wanted to tattoo it on his forehead. Heck, he had even lied to his mama when he told her that he was the leader of the team.
“But to be with someone who already really knows you is so different, B.A.. A date with Murdock means going to the beach or an arcade, renting a movie and eating hot dogs or hamburgers from some drive- through. He’s just happy to be spending time with me, just *me* and not a bank account with a fantasy job and a made up family history. He knows me, B.A., inside and out. He can tell when I’m lying to him or to myself. He knows the truth about me, my past and dim future and he doesn’t *care*.”
Face’s voice got thicker with emotion as he talked and he didn’t notice the tears forming and falling as he spoke. “He knows that I had to kill people, had to set fire to villages, interrogate old men and women. He knows that I had to shoot children who were booby trapped with grenades just as they were darting into the middle of a squad of our guys. Children who were strapped down with explosives by their fucking parents, by adults who wanted to kill as many Americans as possible and not risk their own fucking necks. Children who were already dead the second someone decided to use an eight year old as a suicide bomber because they figured no one would shoot a child. And if they did shoot, that only proved that Americans were evil. Never mind that it was *their* idea in the first fucking place, that they wanted to kill as many of our guys as possible.“
“He knows what it is like to lie in the bottom of a bamboo cage, starving, filthy, beaten so bad that you prayed that you wouldn’t survive the next interrogation because you were tired of living, tired of trying to stay strong and yet, praying that you had the strength to keep your mouth shut because if you let something slip, no matter how small, someone you knew, someone you *didn’t* know, would die because of you, because of something *you* said. He knows what it’s like to watch someone you care about, a friend, a fellow soldier, a *brother*, die in front of you because of hatred and cruelty, wondering who would be next and hoping that it would be you because there was just nothing left of your soul.“
“He knows what it is like to watch a man scream in pain and knowing that there was nothing that you could do for him, nothing that you could do to bring him any peace except to pray that the end would come quick for him. He knows what it is like to hold a maimed stranger in your arms in the middle of the blackest night, listening for that last quiet sigh as his soul leaves his body, knowing that he doesn’t have to struggle with living anymore, that his journey was finally over. And you say nothing because holding his cooling body until morning is the only company you have in that lonesome cage. Just you and a dead body, feeling jealous
and wishing that it was *you* that had died and not him.“
“He knows all of that and more because he was there. He lived through it and survived; a bit mentally unstable, but by God he *did it*. And do you want to know why he survived, why he hung in there long after the other pilots died, long after others had ever given up hope? He didn’t do it because he was stronger or better then they were. He lived for *me*, B.A. Murdock lived for me because I told him that if anything happened to him, I wouldn’t care whether I lived or died, because without him I was *nothing*. I loved him too much to ever let him go. And he knew that. He forced himself to live through more pain and terror that you can ever imagine because he loved me. Selfish of me, huh? I couldn’t stand the thought of being alone again, so he forced himself to live. For me. And he has never asked for anything in return, not even my love.”
“He told you that? That he lived because of what you said? Maybe he lived because he‘s as stubborn as a mule and knew how much he‘d tick me off in the future.”
“He didn’t have to. You know as well as I do what death looks like when it finally comes for someone. The both of us have seen the faces of our friends when they knew that they weren’t going to make it; no matter how fast help came, no matter how soon we got them to the med tents, they knew when they weren’t gonna make it and we saw it in their faces. We both knew when the pain finally stopped for them, when we saw the peaceful looks on their faces as if they didn’t have a care in the world, that’s when we knew they only had moments to live, a few heartbeats of life left in them. A few of them have even smiled just before they went, as if all of the dying, all of the fear and pain and bloodshed that came before that moment didn‘t exist. It was as if they had been reborn in peace. Murdock had that look once with just the two of us in that bamboo prison one hot, sunny day.“
“He had been in agony for days, barely able to swallow water, much less eat anything we had. I saw this look in his eyes, this peaceful acceptance come over him and I knew that he was going to die in that fucking cage in my arms. He was going to be buried in a shallow, unmarked grave in the rotting jungle and I was going to be alone once more. I couldn‘t deal with being left behind again. When he started talking about hearing music and about how much he didn’t hurt anymore, I got pissed at him and I shook him. I shook a dying man and told him that if he even *thought* of leaving me, that if he breathed his last breath, that it was the end for me as well. I told him that I would attack the first guard that came along and *let* myself get killed. I told Murdock that without him, life wasn’t worth living and that my soul was in his hands. We could both live or we could both die, it was up to *him*.“
“I was angry and I let him know it. I told him that if he died on me I wouldn’t ever forgive him, not as long as I lived. Which wouldn’t be long at all. I told this man, this dying man that I loved, that I would hate him for all of eternity if he left me. I didn’t care that he was in pain. I didn’t care that he was tired and wanted to rest. All I cared about was that someone else that I loved was leaving me and I couldn’t handle that again.“
“I didn’t beg him to live, I *demanded* that he live. I demanded that he continue to feel pain because I was a selfish bastard who didn’t want to let him go. I saw it B.A., I saw when he made that decision to live. Those beautiful, peaceful brown eyes filled up with the loss of eternal joy and I knew that he was going to live. He made himself live through more pain and terror because he knew that I wouldn’t go on without him. Stubborn or not, he willed himself to live because I *needed* him.“
“This is the man that you *judge*. This is a man that stood up for you and Hannibal time and time again. This is a man who decided to stay instead of getting a medical discharge because he knew that we needed him in that Hell. This is a man who risked his life time and time again to save your miserable hide back in ’Nam. This is a man that you think is unworthy of being your friend. Well, *fuck you*, B.A. and the horse you rode in on.”
Face finally, mercifully fell into silence. Both men sat as the gloom of the evening began to fall; Face wondering if the chain had been used on the back door, and if not, what he could use to pick the lock so that he could get out of there as B.A. just tried to absorb everything that Face had said. It was the most honest and longest speech that he had ever heard the other man utter in all of the years that they had known each other. He had heard the old pain and self-hatred that still lingered in the con-man’s voice. No matter what Face said, B.A. knew that he hated himself for forcing Murdock to go though more pain then any man had the right to face.
B.A. realized then that this was no scam, no outrageous prank that he and Murdock were trying to pull. The pilot had always been there when they needed him and B.A. had always thought that it had been a miracle that the crazy pilot had managed to live when stronger men died in cages all around them. He also thought that it was proof that the man had gone over the edge when he refused the medical discharge offered to him in order to stay with the rest of the team. B.A. hated flying - and crashing - but he also knew that there was no one better then Murdock and he knew that Hannibal had been more then grateful to keep the pilot with them.
“Judge not, least ye be judged,” B.A. suddenly said.
A bit startled, all Face could say was, “What?”
B.A. snickered for what felt like the first time in days. “Thought that you knew the Bible, Faceman. ‘Judge not, least ye be judged’. I’ve been doing a lot of judging in the past few weeks, but then, so have you.”
Face opened his mouth to protest, but B.A. quickly overrode him. “You had the chance to say what you wanted, so give me the same courtesy. You judged me and Hannibal unworthy to handle the truth about Murdock, about his abuse and about the two of you. I admit that we didn’t handle things very well, but having something like that suddenly sprung on you can do that to anybody. Maybe if you’d leveled with us in the first place, let us get used to the idea, things mightn’t have gone as far as they did. If you hadn’t let Murdock talk you into keeping everything a secret, no matter how scared he was, maybe things would’ve turned out differently. But you didn’t and now things are a mess and nobody knows how to put things right again. You expect me and Hannibal to change a lifetime of thinking overnight and you’re mad because we can’t. Well, I can’t speak for Hannibal, but I need time to think things through, time to think about what you told me today. You need to let me get used to thinking about the two of you together that involves more then just simple friendship. That’s all I’m asking for, just some time to do some thinking. Can you do that?”
Face thought about it for half a second before he nodded his head. Let B.A. have all the time in the world to think, it still wouldn’t change anything between him and Murdock.
The sound of the back door opening drew their attention and he and B.A. turned as one to see a broom handle poking through, decorated with a white pillow case.
“Has the all clear been sounded? Peace broken out? Just remember, anybody maimed or killed can’t have any spaghetti, homemade sauce and garlic French bread for dinner.”
Face recognized Jen’s voice and grinned. Suzie’s spaghetti sauce could rival any Italian restaurant’s attempt and Cody was always so proud to be the one in charge of putting the garlic on the bread before it was put in the oven. Even if the kid did get a little heavy with it at times.
“We’re both alive and well. We’ll be right there,” he called out. The door shut once again, but this time, there was no sound of the lock being used. Face finally turned to B.A. “We through here, B.A.?”
“Yeah, for now. But there’s just one thing.”
Face merely raised an eyebrow.
“I better see Cody at the daycare center on Monday. He and his mothers are both welcome there. I’ll keep a close eye on him”
“Going to teach him how to be a *real* man, B.A.?” There was still a slight tone of bitterness in Face’s tone.
“No. I’m going to let him teach me how to become a better friend. There’s things that I’d forgotten, but I’m sure that Cody can bring me up to speed.”
B.A. laughed outright at the befuddled look on the conman’s face. He was still chuckling as he went into the house, leaving Face sitting on the darkening porch. It felt good to have the last word for once.
************************************
T.B.C.