another man you can't even see. gen.
Jul. 28th, 2010 02:39 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
b0nesanother man you can't even see
gen. (the a-team tv show!verse or movie!verse)
pg13; 4,935 words
Murdock knows this isn’t right, that Templeton shouldn’t be there at all, that if he is there’s something seriously wrong but he can’t make himself believe it because just seeing him again is making his heart hurt just a little bit less.
notes: written for prompt B in this request. when I first saw this prompt, my head was already starting to tick tick tick with ideas. I love "what if" kind of stories and this one was exactly like something I would write. but oh, I didn't know what I was getting into. this took me longer to complete than I would have liked it to and it's not even as long as I thought it would be. I cried twice while working on this because the subject (surprisingly) hit me hard, harder than I thought it would (and I thought it would have absolutely no effect at all). I apologize if there are any mistakes that I missed.
He meets Templeton Peck when the guy shows up to the door of his airplane and asks if he could catch a lift. Murdock adjusts his helmet and laughs, telling him that he’s not a passenger plane, that he doesn’t even know where he’s going but Templeton just replies that it doesn’t matter as long as they get back to base before dark.
Murdock drops Templeton off just as the sun is setting and he gets ready to head to his own tent, the sweat trapped under his clothes making his skin itch when Templeton stops him, a hand on his shoulder, grinning and asks if Murdock might want to join him for a drink. Murdock chuckles and shakes his head because where in the world did a solider like Templeton get alcohol? The guy just smiles even wider and says he knows people who owe him favours.
The liquor is hidden in bottles that were otherwise used to hold soap and it burns as it goes down, the aftertaste bitter and sudsy but it’s enough to give them both a buzz and Murdock kind of can’t believe he finally managed to make a friend. It was difficult for him, even as a kid but especially once he got older, to actually hold onto somebody’s attention long enough to make them realize he liked them but here was this guy, this handsome and charming guy who was going on about this gun he scammed off of somebody somewhere. Murdock said that Templeton should teach him how to do that and Templeton nodded and pointed and gestured and said absolutely.
The next day is hot and sticky and the air is thick and smells like gunpowder, cigarettes and dirt and Murdock tosses and turns, hearing the others outside his tent already moving and talking and getting ready and eventually Murdock can’t take it anymore and gets up, gets dressed and he doesn’t realize he’s looking for Templeton until he can’t find him. It’s disheartening but expected and he figures they’d meet up at some point down the line.
He finds him sitting at a table with a group of other soldiers during breakfast, completely holding their attention with some story and Murdock gathers his food and starts to walk past because he’s obviously busy and crazy as he may be, he knows when he doesn’t intrude but then Templeton is stopping mid-sentence and looking up, his right leg lifted on the bench, arm resting on his bended knee and he asks Murdock where he’s going, says that there’s plenty of room there and makes one of the younger officers scoot over so Murdock can sit directly in front of Templeton and the guy grins and winks.
They sit there talking long after the other men had drifted away and they almost get in trouble when they’re late for duty, Templeton slapping an arm around Murdock’s shoulders as they part ways.
It’s not until almost midnight that he sees Templeton again, but Murdock doesn’t mind. The air is cooler but still just as damp and they sit on a slight hill, drinking the last of the liquor. Murdock accidentally lets out the crazy he had held back so he could stay in the army, flying planes and he expects Templeton to just slowly back away but he finds it hilarious and plays along, even when Murdock starts ranting about a dog named Billy that he has trouble remembering if he’s real or not. Templeton just asks him where he got him and what breed he is.
They start talking about their lives before the war and Murdock admits that he’s an orphan and Templeton seems genuinely sympathetic, leaning over to knock up against Murdock and give him the last swig because he says he thinks he deserves it. He can get more later anyway, it’s not a big deal. Templeton mentions parents but doesn’t talk about them past that so Murdock starts singing because things are getting heavy and soon Templeton is joining in and Murdock really thinks he likes having a best friend.
On day eight, it’s like they’ve already been friends for years. Most of the morning and early afternoon they spend joined at the hip, leaning over barrels of too warm and murky water as they try to scrub at least a couple pairs of underwear and shirts clean. Templeton says that normally he’d get someone else to do this for him but he’s too tired to look for someone gullible enough. Murdock mentions that he still needed to teach him how to con stuff from people and Templeton laughs and says they could start with the first lesson that evening.
Murdock’s flying, low and careful, over a field on his way back to camp when his radio crackles in that way it does when it’s not a message for him but wires getting crossed and occasionally he listens in on other people’s conversations because it’s not like they’d know and Murdock’s just very good at keeping secrets. The man, with a deep and shaky voice, on the other end is yelling to someone about an ambush, about too many wounded but only one dead. A breathy young man asks who’s been killed, just for his records and there’s a silence like maybe the man with the deep voice doesn’t want to say or like he doesn’t know but then he comes back and exhales heavily.
“Templeton Peck.”
Murdock drops his radio and gasps and he can’t breathe and he loses grip on the controls and the plane slips a bit out of the sky and brushes against the tops of trees before he’s grabbed them again and he doesn’t know how but he manages to land it and he stumbles out, clutching at his chest and he can’t think. A red-headed soldier who had been tying his boots stands up and notices, walking over and asking if Murdock’s okay but Murdock can’t speak and he walks a bit before falling to his knees and the last thing he remembers is an arm around his shoulder and he’s struggling to just get a tiny bit of air and then he passes out.
. . . .
He wakes up and it’s dark outside, the curtains drawn just enough to block any remaining light from outside and a breeze flutters through and disappears just as quickly and he’s in a bed but not sure how he got there. He tries to sit up but he can’t move and he pulls and yanks until he figures out that he’s being held down, restrained and he clears his dry throat until a pretty nurse who was tending to someone else looks up. She walks over, cautious but with a forced warm smile and says hello.
“You’re awake,” she says, like he doesn’t already know this, “I’m sorry about the restraints,” she has a hint of a southern accent and Murdock thinks about asking her where she’s from because it’s kind of like his but she doesn’t look open to small talk so he just nods, “do you remember what happened?”
Did he remember? The water is welling up in his eyes before he has a chance to respond and shit he should have seen this coming. One second he has a best friend and then the universe needed to have a good laugh and just snatches him away. He didn’t know his breathing was getting labored until the nurse was backing away a bit, hands raised, saying calming words that he couldn’t even hear.
He’s screaming, screaming, and his wrists and ankles ache and burn as he pulls against the soft restraints and the rage and despair he didn’t want anymore, new as it was, radiated and vibrated everywhere, right down to his bones and the nurse is calling for a doctor and there are footsteps and suddenly so many people and hands and someone is holding him down, practically sitting on top of him and a doctor says:
“We’re doing this for your own good, son,” and then something pricks into his skin and, after a couple minutes his head is swimming, his eyes fogging over and things aren’t too awful for a little while and then he’s falling asleep.
Murdock opens his eyes to a splitting headache and his shirt drenched in sweat. The sun is beating through the blinds and there are soft murmurs all around him, bodies milling around and his stomach churns and he’s surprised to sit up and discover his limbs are free and he touches his wrists, only the faint outline of red left behind. He had no idea what day it was. He feels the acid pushing into his throat and he’s searching for something, anything to bury his head in and he’s just about to give up when there’s a silver pan sliding into his hands and he’s throwing up absolutely nothing because it’s been awhile since he ate.
The same nurse as before is standing there, looking haggard and sympathetic and she actually sits down on a small stool, folding her hands in her lap, taking the pan away from him when he was finished. Murdock hugs his knees to his chest, hiding his head and just exhaling.
“You’ve been in and out for two days,” she says quietly, “I told the doctors that if they were going to keep you under that you didn’t need the restraints.”
“Thanks,” and his own voice sounds rough and cracked and something cold and plastic is nudging his arm and he peeks up to see that he’s being offered a cup of water and he sips on it as she keeps talking.
“They want to send you back out in a day or two. I told them they shouldn’t but they need men, especially pilots,” and Murdock is wondering what he had said in his two day haze that made her change from being afraid of him to being so gentle, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because of your friend. The doctor, he told me what happened, that you found out about… it’s not uncommon, you know. Not… I mean, you reacting…” she paused, realizing she wasn’t helping and sighed, standing up and putting a hand on his shoulder, “I’m supposed to give you something to help you sleep tonight but I won’t. Just do me one favour,” Murdock couldn’t bring himself to verbally respond so he only grunted, “try not to scream so much this time.”
. . . .
The screaming is what wakes him up, fingers clutching painfully into the mattress and he’s panting and he forgets where he is for a few seconds and he practically jumps out of his own skin when he realizes that there’s somebody standing next to him. He starts to stammer, wonders if maybe he should be trying to defend himself because that’s definitely not a female shape but then the person is picking up the stool and placing himself squarely down and Murdock gapes.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Templeton says, smiling lightly. He’s dressed in a dark suit, the jacket thrown over his arm, his vest unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, “it’s just me.”
Murdock knows this isn’t right, that Templeton shouldn’t be there at all, that if he is there’s something seriously wrong but he can’t make himself believe it because just seeing him again is making his heart hurt just a little bit less and he’s actually relaxing a bit for once in over five days.
“I thought you… you died,” he says because he can’t think of anything else to say and Templeton chuckles loudly and Murdock shushes him because there are other people sleeping.
“It’s complicated,” Templeton says like he was some kind of secret agent on a very specific mission and Murdock just nods because he gets that, it’s understandable, “how long have you been here?”
“Few days.”
“I didn’t mean to do this,” Templeton runs a hand through his blonde hair, “especially to you.” And it sounds odd coming from him, this kind of apology because when Murdock knew him those couple days ago everything was a joke but he wasn’t about to just let this kind of moment slide.
“You’re here though,” Murdock might have actually been grinning even though he felt something wet and hot roll down his cheeks.
“I sure am. Having trouble sleeping?”
“Yeah,” because there was no point in lying to someone who practically lied for a living and Templeton is giving him this soft kind of smile and he reaches over and touches Murdock’s arm and it feels so real that Murdock is gasping but before he has a chance to touch him back Templeton is pulling away.
“Well, I’m right here. So you can go to sleep now.” Templeton crosses a leg over his knee and scoots closer and Murdock lays down, rolling over so he can stare at Templeton like if he looked away he’d disappear in a puff of smoke and he plans on staying up the entire night but eventually he feels his eyes begin to get heavy and, just before he falls asleep, he stretches out his arm and rests his fingers against Templeton’s knee.
. . . .
“Hello, Murdock,” the nurse says the next morning as she walks by, pausing to approach him and Murdock blinks, glancing towards Templeton and the guy looks back, waggling his eyebrows a bit because she really is quite beautiful and Murdock laughs and pushes him a bit. Murdock can see the nurse look from the stool back to him and then back and forth again and she grows pale, eyes widening slightly, “you, uh… you… who’re you talking to, Murdock?”
“Oh, right,” Murdock smiled and gestured towards Templeton, “lovely nurse, this is Templeton Peck.”
“Oh. Alright,” she seemed nervous but Murdock just figured it had to do with her surprise at him suddenly having a guest, especially one who was supposed to be deceased, “it was… I’ll be right back,” and she scurried away, the door slamming behind her and another soldier with a bullet wound in his shoulder was staring, eyebrows questioning and when Murdock said something to Templeton he just sat up a bit a tilted his head off to one side.
“Son,” the nurse had returned with a doctor, his hair perfectly combed, flat to his head, sprinkled with grey and he looked concerned and confused, “you say Templeton Peck is here?”
“Sure,” Murdock points to the man next to him and Templeton waves and then salutes.
“Okay,” and the doctor sighs, closing his eyes a moment and then he’s turning back to the nurse whispering something in her ear and she’s nodding, worrying on her bottom lip, fingers wiggling, “we’ll just leave you two alone for now, alright?” And they disappear, their voices raising but words still unintelligible and Templeton raises his eyebrows and Murdock just shrugs.
“I guess nobody told them you were alive,” Murdock chuckles and Templeton just drums his fingers on his leg and watches them yell at one another.
. . . .
The doctor puts him in a room that has no windows and a table separating two, straight metal chairs, a single light dangling from the ceiling and this is confusing because the last time a doctor thought they needed to talk the room was warm, was full of books and couches but he kept forgetting he was in the middle of a war, that luxury didn’t come with couches and books out here.
“When did Templeton show up, Murdock?”
“He was there when I woke up in the middle of the night.”
“Last night?”
“Sure,” Murdock traced an invisible path on the surface of the table and wasn’t sure why he was being asked all these questions when they could be asking Templeton them directly, “I could go get him, he’s probably flirting with that nurse, he can answer all of these better than I can.”
“No, it’s… it’s alright,” the doctor said, clearing his throat and finally sitting down.
“Okay.”
“When you say he was there when you woke up… can you be more specific?”
“I was having a bad dream and when I woke up, he was standing right next to my bed,” Murdock gestured, placing his hands in the appropriate spots in the air, “he pulled up a stool and sat down.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“Not much,” Murdock chewed on his thumb, something he didn’t do unless he was nervous because he got the feeling that this doctor might try to find a way to get Templeton to leave.
“Did he say anything about why he…” the doctor flattened his hair and adjusted his glasses, “wasn’t dead?”
“Said it was complicated. You know, I really think that you should be talking to him. I mean, I know even less than you do!”
“Okay. Sure, I can talk to him. Why don’t you go get him.”
Murdock stood, cautiously at first, and then sprinted towards the door, leaning out to call over to where Templeton had been trying to get the nurse’s attention and she was doing an excellent job at pretending he wasn’t there. She jumped when Murdock called to his friend, telling him that the doctor needed to speak to him, if he didn’t mind leaving that poor woman alone for just a few minutes. Templeton nodded, giving Murdock a quick slap on the shoulder and a curious grin before entering the room and Murdock went to get comfortable until the doctor asked if maybe just he and Peck could have a little time by themselves. Murdock didn’t like it but he didn’t have a choice and he ducked out, heading back towards his bed.
“It’s fine, I’m sure,” the nurse said, “he just needs to make sure Templeton is where he’s supposed to be. I mean, we all thought he was dead.”
“It’s crazy, right?”
“Crazy,” she repeated, glancing up at Murdock and he shared her look until she moved her head away, gazing back towards the door when it opened and the doctor called her inside. Murdock watched as it shut tightly and the knob turned as it was locked.
. . . .
Murdock was eating one of the regulation sandwiches an hour later when the door burst open and the three of them went striding out, the doctor and the nurse not even giving Murdock a second look and disappearing into an office. Templeton meandered over, his jacket slung over his shoulder and he dropped down on the edge of Murdock’s mattress and leaned over, picking at his crust.
“What’d you talk about,” Murdock asked with his mouth full and Templeton shrugged.
“Nothing. You know, they’re getting real used to pretending I’m not sitting right there. Didn’t even ask me how I was feeling. Talked about you mostly.”
“About me?”
“I tuned them out. Eventually, they stopped conversing and let me out and, well, here I am,” he shook his head and pushed Murdock’s hand away when the man offered him half of his meal, “what’re your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Nothin’.”
“I could teach you some of my tricks, now that we’ve got some time.”
Murdock grinned.
. . . .
A week later and Murdock was still there. He was beginning to get bored and, even with Templeton as company, he was running out of things to talk about, things to do and he had suggested possibly writing a book to just pass the time but Templeton had hated every single one of his ideas so Murdock had given up. He was playing with his shoelaces while Templeton sat on the stool next to his bed, reading a beat up novel he kept tucked in his back pocket when Murdock thought he heard his name, lifting his head to see the doctor speaking to a short man with gray hair, dressed in a Colonel’s uniform, a cigar clamped tightly between his teeth.
“Are you sure?” The doctor was saying and he sounded like he was trying to keep his voice lowered but in a room full of mostly sleeping men, it was difficult to make a whisper not sound like shouting and Murdock shared a look with Templeton.
“I need the best. He’s the best,” the man was saying, blowing smoke in the doctor’s face.
“Yes, but…” the doctor realized that Murdock was listening and lightly grabbed the man’s arm and turned him away, going out into the hallway and the rest of their conversation was silenced.
“I think they were talking about you, Murdock,” Templeton said and Murdock pointed at his own chest, mouth hanging open slightly in what could have been mock surprise. The two men returned, the doctor looking resigned and as if he had just told the grey-haired Colonel that it would be his own funeral and Murdock watched as the Colonel ambled over, pausing at the side of his bed and holding out his hand.
“Captain Murdock. I’m Colonel Hannibal Smith. My Sergeant and I are putting together a team and we need a pilot, the best pilot. And that would be you.” Murdock grasped his hand in returned, moving to his feet as he shook it and out of the corner of his eye he saw Templeton stand as well and salute, Murdock doing the same once Hannibal had let go, “what do you say, Captain?”
“Well, Colonel, I readily accept. If only Lieutenant Peck may join us. A team isn’t a team without a fourth member after all,” Murdock said with a wink and a nod and Hannibal nodded back.
“Of course, where are my manners,” he held out his hand towards where the stool was and Templeton raised an eyebrow at Murdock first before grasping Hannibal’s hand and giving it two shakes before dropping it, “Lieutenant. We’d be honored you have you aboard as well. What say you?”
“Well, sure,” Templeton smiled, “I could use some excitement after hanging around here with Murdock for a week and a half.”
“Excellent,” Hannibal said, although he was staring at Murdock when he spoke, searching his face and he had been slow with his response. He pulled his cigar out of his mouth, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, “alright gentlemen. Get yourselves dressed and ready to go. The car is waiting outside.”
. . . .
(“What’d’ya mean ‘invisible friend’, Hannibal,” B.A. exclaimed once Hannibal had returned back outside, “you didn’t tell me the fool was crazy!”
“Now, Sergeant,” Hannibal said, adjusting himself in the passenger seat, “if I told you that, you never would have agreed to take him on as our pilot, now would you.”
“I still don’t like this Hannibal. Even if he is supposed to be the best.”
“It’s simple, B.A.. All we have to do is play along. It’ll be easy. In a few months, he’ll be done with this and everything will go according to plan. And you know—”
“Yeah, yeah. You love it when a plan comes together.”)
. . . .
twenty years later
“Alright, Murdock. I have to tell you something and you won’t like what I have to say but it’s been long enough,” for once, Hannibal didn’t have a cigar in his mouth and he reached out, placing his hands on Murdock’s shoulders and Murdock was highly confused, looking first to B.A. who stood a few steps back like he was expecting the roof to cave in. Face – a nickname Murdock had given him ten years ago – looked startled and confused.
“Okay, Colonel.” This seemed serious so Murdock put on his best serious voice.
“Murdock, it’s about Face.”
“What about him?” Murdock went to stare at Face and why did he look so terrified but Hannibal was grabbing his chin and forcing Murdock to focus on him and only him and something caught in Murdock’s throat because he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“Murdock,” and he didn’t like the way Hannibal kept saying his name, “Face…” Hannibal let out a heavy exhale, “he isn’t real.”
“What?” Murdock laughed, his grin pulling wide across his face but nobody else was laughing and when he glanced to Face the guy looked like so damn scared and Murdock’s chuckling died down and he shook his head. “Hannibal, he’s right there. He’s standing right next to me.”
“No, Murdock. No he’s not,” Hannibal’s face conveyed nothing but pain and sympathy, like he hadn’t awoke this morning planning to do any of this and Murdock giggled nervously.
“What’s going on? This is a prank, right? you’re just tryin’ to freak me out.”
“Murdock, please,” Hannibal begged. Hannibal never begged.
“No, no. He did something screwy in the war and… and they thought he was dead but he wasn’t. Hannibal, he’s been a part of the team for twenty years. We’ve put our life in his hands…” Murdock was losing his breath and he tried to wrench out of Hannibal’s grip but the guy wasn’t going to let him go that easy so he kept struggling and struggling until B.A. said something and Hannibal let go.
Murdock attempted to put as much distance as possible between the three of them and him and he put his head in his hands, burying his face in his fingers and moaned something into his palms.
“You’re lying,” Murdock said, “you’re lying.”
“We wish we were, man,” B.A. said quietly, “we played along but we didn’t think it would last this long.”
“You’re lying,” Murdock repeated, head moving back and forth and he finally looked up but it was difficult to see. He locked eyes with Face and Face was staring back at him like he had just gotten stabbed in the chest, like Murdock had personally walked up to him and dug it right in and he was angry.
“Murdock,” Face started, “you can’t believe him. He’s trying to screw with you he’s—”
“Whatever he’s saying to you,” Hannibal interrupted, “don’t listen. You have to trust us,” he gestured to himself and B.A.
“What about when he broke me out of the hospital all those times?”
“You broke yourself out, Murdock,” Hannibal said with a tired sigh.
“And all those missions, all those times he conned all those people and… and…” he was aware he was crying, that his lungs were gasping for air and he felt like maybe he was going to pass out but he couldn’t allow himself and he couldn’t make himself look at Face anymore because the expression on his face was already burning into his head.
“That was you. You did all of that, Murdock. You conned all those people. You’re good at it. You need to snap out of it, Murdock,” and Murdock filled with rage because they weren’t doctors, they didn’t know what they were saying.
“Maybe you’re the ones who aren’t real,” Murdock yelled, “maybe I made the two of you up in my… my…” he wiggled his fingers at his head, “maybe Face is the only real one here.”
“Murdock…” Hannibal’s voice had a warning tone and he advanced, maybe to touch him, to prove a point but Murdock just lurched away, throwing his arms out in front of him because he couldn’t handle someone putting their hands on him, “if you don’t… if you can’t…” it was the first time that Murdock had ever witnessed Hannibal at a loss for the right words, “we’ll take you back to the hospital and…”
“…and we won’t never come back for you, fool, alright,” B.A. finished for him, fists curling up at his sides and Murdock hid his face again, stumbling against the couch.
“No, no, no, no, no it’s not true, it’s not true,” he began to cry harder, sobbing into his sleeve and he flailed, sending a lamp crashing to the floor, the light bulb shattering in a mess of sparks and glass. When Hannibal tried once again to get closer, Murdock picked up a pillow from the couch and flung it at him, nailing him hard in the stomach. Hannibal said something to B.A. and the man charged forward, spinning Murdock and grabbing him around the waist and ignoring the kicks that were being delivered to his thighs and knees, keeping Murdock’s arms flattened to his sides and he began to carry him to the door, listening as he sobbed and screamed.
Hannibal was close behind and he locked the door once they were outside and Murdock was being shoved into the back of the van and he pounded on the door as it slid closed, peering out the back window as they drove away, watching as Face stood in the middle of the street and Murdock should have questioned how he got out there if the door was locked from the outside but he just slammed a closed fist against the glass until Hannibal had to climb back there and fling him into a chair and strap him down with the seatbelt.
The nurse met them at the door as if she had been expecting them the entire time and it took both B.A. and Hannibal grasping either arm to lead Murdock down the hallways and they handed him off to two people dressed in white clothes and he protested as much as he could and, for a few seconds, he managed to escape but then there was a prick on the back of his neck and the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was seeing Hannibal having an argument with one of the nurses.
. . . .
two years later
Murdock never saw Face again.
But B.A. and Hannibal never came back.
He can't remember if they even promised that they would.
gen. (the a-team tv show!verse or movie!verse)
pg13; 4,935 words
Murdock knows this isn’t right, that Templeton shouldn’t be there at all, that if he is there’s something seriously wrong but he can’t make himself believe it because just seeing him again is making his heart hurt just a little bit less.
notes: written for prompt B in this request. when I first saw this prompt, my head was already starting to tick tick tick with ideas. I love "what if" kind of stories and this one was exactly like something I would write. but oh, I didn't know what I was getting into. this took me longer to complete than I would have liked it to and it's not even as long as I thought it would be. I cried twice while working on this because the subject (surprisingly) hit me hard, harder than I thought it would (and I thought it would have absolutely no effect at all). I apologize if there are any mistakes that I missed.
He meets Templeton Peck when the guy shows up to the door of his airplane and asks if he could catch a lift. Murdock adjusts his helmet and laughs, telling him that he’s not a passenger plane, that he doesn’t even know where he’s going but Templeton just replies that it doesn’t matter as long as they get back to base before dark.
Murdock drops Templeton off just as the sun is setting and he gets ready to head to his own tent, the sweat trapped under his clothes making his skin itch when Templeton stops him, a hand on his shoulder, grinning and asks if Murdock might want to join him for a drink. Murdock chuckles and shakes his head because where in the world did a solider like Templeton get alcohol? The guy just smiles even wider and says he knows people who owe him favours.
The liquor is hidden in bottles that were otherwise used to hold soap and it burns as it goes down, the aftertaste bitter and sudsy but it’s enough to give them both a buzz and Murdock kind of can’t believe he finally managed to make a friend. It was difficult for him, even as a kid but especially once he got older, to actually hold onto somebody’s attention long enough to make them realize he liked them but here was this guy, this handsome and charming guy who was going on about this gun he scammed off of somebody somewhere. Murdock said that Templeton should teach him how to do that and Templeton nodded and pointed and gestured and said absolutely.
The next day is hot and sticky and the air is thick and smells like gunpowder, cigarettes and dirt and Murdock tosses and turns, hearing the others outside his tent already moving and talking and getting ready and eventually Murdock can’t take it anymore and gets up, gets dressed and he doesn’t realize he’s looking for Templeton until he can’t find him. It’s disheartening but expected and he figures they’d meet up at some point down the line.
He finds him sitting at a table with a group of other soldiers during breakfast, completely holding their attention with some story and Murdock gathers his food and starts to walk past because he’s obviously busy and crazy as he may be, he knows when he doesn’t intrude but then Templeton is stopping mid-sentence and looking up, his right leg lifted on the bench, arm resting on his bended knee and he asks Murdock where he’s going, says that there’s plenty of room there and makes one of the younger officers scoot over so Murdock can sit directly in front of Templeton and the guy grins and winks.
They sit there talking long after the other men had drifted away and they almost get in trouble when they’re late for duty, Templeton slapping an arm around Murdock’s shoulders as they part ways.
It’s not until almost midnight that he sees Templeton again, but Murdock doesn’t mind. The air is cooler but still just as damp and they sit on a slight hill, drinking the last of the liquor. Murdock accidentally lets out the crazy he had held back so he could stay in the army, flying planes and he expects Templeton to just slowly back away but he finds it hilarious and plays along, even when Murdock starts ranting about a dog named Billy that he has trouble remembering if he’s real or not. Templeton just asks him where he got him and what breed he is.
They start talking about their lives before the war and Murdock admits that he’s an orphan and Templeton seems genuinely sympathetic, leaning over to knock up against Murdock and give him the last swig because he says he thinks he deserves it. He can get more later anyway, it’s not a big deal. Templeton mentions parents but doesn’t talk about them past that so Murdock starts singing because things are getting heavy and soon Templeton is joining in and Murdock really thinks he likes having a best friend.
On day eight, it’s like they’ve already been friends for years. Most of the morning and early afternoon they spend joined at the hip, leaning over barrels of too warm and murky water as they try to scrub at least a couple pairs of underwear and shirts clean. Templeton says that normally he’d get someone else to do this for him but he’s too tired to look for someone gullible enough. Murdock mentions that he still needed to teach him how to con stuff from people and Templeton laughs and says they could start with the first lesson that evening.
Murdock’s flying, low and careful, over a field on his way back to camp when his radio crackles in that way it does when it’s not a message for him but wires getting crossed and occasionally he listens in on other people’s conversations because it’s not like they’d know and Murdock’s just very good at keeping secrets. The man, with a deep and shaky voice, on the other end is yelling to someone about an ambush, about too many wounded but only one dead. A breathy young man asks who’s been killed, just for his records and there’s a silence like maybe the man with the deep voice doesn’t want to say or like he doesn’t know but then he comes back and exhales heavily.
“Templeton Peck.”
Murdock drops his radio and gasps and he can’t breathe and he loses grip on the controls and the plane slips a bit out of the sky and brushes against the tops of trees before he’s grabbed them again and he doesn’t know how but he manages to land it and he stumbles out, clutching at his chest and he can’t think. A red-headed soldier who had been tying his boots stands up and notices, walking over and asking if Murdock’s okay but Murdock can’t speak and he walks a bit before falling to his knees and the last thing he remembers is an arm around his shoulder and he’s struggling to just get a tiny bit of air and then he passes out.
He wakes up and it’s dark outside, the curtains drawn just enough to block any remaining light from outside and a breeze flutters through and disappears just as quickly and he’s in a bed but not sure how he got there. He tries to sit up but he can’t move and he pulls and yanks until he figures out that he’s being held down, restrained and he clears his dry throat until a pretty nurse who was tending to someone else looks up. She walks over, cautious but with a forced warm smile and says hello.
“You’re awake,” she says, like he doesn’t already know this, “I’m sorry about the restraints,” she has a hint of a southern accent and Murdock thinks about asking her where she’s from because it’s kind of like his but she doesn’t look open to small talk so he just nods, “do you remember what happened?”
Did he remember? The water is welling up in his eyes before he has a chance to respond and shit he should have seen this coming. One second he has a best friend and then the universe needed to have a good laugh and just snatches him away. He didn’t know his breathing was getting labored until the nurse was backing away a bit, hands raised, saying calming words that he couldn’t even hear.
He’s screaming, screaming, and his wrists and ankles ache and burn as he pulls against the soft restraints and the rage and despair he didn’t want anymore, new as it was, radiated and vibrated everywhere, right down to his bones and the nurse is calling for a doctor and there are footsteps and suddenly so many people and hands and someone is holding him down, practically sitting on top of him and a doctor says:
“We’re doing this for your own good, son,” and then something pricks into his skin and, after a couple minutes his head is swimming, his eyes fogging over and things aren’t too awful for a little while and then he’s falling asleep.
Murdock opens his eyes to a splitting headache and his shirt drenched in sweat. The sun is beating through the blinds and there are soft murmurs all around him, bodies milling around and his stomach churns and he’s surprised to sit up and discover his limbs are free and he touches his wrists, only the faint outline of red left behind. He had no idea what day it was. He feels the acid pushing into his throat and he’s searching for something, anything to bury his head in and he’s just about to give up when there’s a silver pan sliding into his hands and he’s throwing up absolutely nothing because it’s been awhile since he ate.
The same nurse as before is standing there, looking haggard and sympathetic and she actually sits down on a small stool, folding her hands in her lap, taking the pan away from him when he was finished. Murdock hugs his knees to his chest, hiding his head and just exhaling.
“You’ve been in and out for two days,” she says quietly, “I told the doctors that if they were going to keep you under that you didn’t need the restraints.”
“Thanks,” and his own voice sounds rough and cracked and something cold and plastic is nudging his arm and he peeks up to see that he’s being offered a cup of water and he sips on it as she keeps talking.
“They want to send you back out in a day or two. I told them they shouldn’t but they need men, especially pilots,” and Murdock is wondering what he had said in his two day haze that made her change from being afraid of him to being so gentle, “I’m sorry.”
“Why?”
“Because of your friend. The doctor, he told me what happened, that you found out about… it’s not uncommon, you know. Not… I mean, you reacting…” she paused, realizing she wasn’t helping and sighed, standing up and putting a hand on his shoulder, “I’m supposed to give you something to help you sleep tonight but I won’t. Just do me one favour,” Murdock couldn’t bring himself to verbally respond so he only grunted, “try not to scream so much this time.”
The screaming is what wakes him up, fingers clutching painfully into the mattress and he’s panting and he forgets where he is for a few seconds and he practically jumps out of his own skin when he realizes that there’s somebody standing next to him. He starts to stammer, wonders if maybe he should be trying to defend himself because that’s definitely not a female shape but then the person is picking up the stool and placing himself squarely down and Murdock gapes.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Templeton says, smiling lightly. He’s dressed in a dark suit, the jacket thrown over his arm, his vest unbuttoned, sleeves rolled up, “it’s just me.”
Murdock knows this isn’t right, that Templeton shouldn’t be there at all, that if he is there’s something seriously wrong but he can’t make himself believe it because just seeing him again is making his heart hurt just a little bit less and he’s actually relaxing a bit for once in over five days.
“I thought you… you died,” he says because he can’t think of anything else to say and Templeton chuckles loudly and Murdock shushes him because there are other people sleeping.
“It’s complicated,” Templeton says like he was some kind of secret agent on a very specific mission and Murdock just nods because he gets that, it’s understandable, “how long have you been here?”
“Few days.”
“I didn’t mean to do this,” Templeton runs a hand through his blonde hair, “especially to you.” And it sounds odd coming from him, this kind of apology because when Murdock knew him those couple days ago everything was a joke but he wasn’t about to just let this kind of moment slide.
“You’re here though,” Murdock might have actually been grinning even though he felt something wet and hot roll down his cheeks.
“I sure am. Having trouble sleeping?”
“Yeah,” because there was no point in lying to someone who practically lied for a living and Templeton is giving him this soft kind of smile and he reaches over and touches Murdock’s arm and it feels so real that Murdock is gasping but before he has a chance to touch him back Templeton is pulling away.
“Well, I’m right here. So you can go to sleep now.” Templeton crosses a leg over his knee and scoots closer and Murdock lays down, rolling over so he can stare at Templeton like if he looked away he’d disappear in a puff of smoke and he plans on staying up the entire night but eventually he feels his eyes begin to get heavy and, just before he falls asleep, he stretches out his arm and rests his fingers against Templeton’s knee.
“Hello, Murdock,” the nurse says the next morning as she walks by, pausing to approach him and Murdock blinks, glancing towards Templeton and the guy looks back, waggling his eyebrows a bit because she really is quite beautiful and Murdock laughs and pushes him a bit. Murdock can see the nurse look from the stool back to him and then back and forth again and she grows pale, eyes widening slightly, “you, uh… you… who’re you talking to, Murdock?”
“Oh, right,” Murdock smiled and gestured towards Templeton, “lovely nurse, this is Templeton Peck.”
“Oh. Alright,” she seemed nervous but Murdock just figured it had to do with her surprise at him suddenly having a guest, especially one who was supposed to be deceased, “it was… I’ll be right back,” and she scurried away, the door slamming behind her and another soldier with a bullet wound in his shoulder was staring, eyebrows questioning and when Murdock said something to Templeton he just sat up a bit a tilted his head off to one side.
“Son,” the nurse had returned with a doctor, his hair perfectly combed, flat to his head, sprinkled with grey and he looked concerned and confused, “you say Templeton Peck is here?”
“Sure,” Murdock points to the man next to him and Templeton waves and then salutes.
“Okay,” and the doctor sighs, closing his eyes a moment and then he’s turning back to the nurse whispering something in her ear and she’s nodding, worrying on her bottom lip, fingers wiggling, “we’ll just leave you two alone for now, alright?” And they disappear, their voices raising but words still unintelligible and Templeton raises his eyebrows and Murdock just shrugs.
“I guess nobody told them you were alive,” Murdock chuckles and Templeton just drums his fingers on his leg and watches them yell at one another.
The doctor puts him in a room that has no windows and a table separating two, straight metal chairs, a single light dangling from the ceiling and this is confusing because the last time a doctor thought they needed to talk the room was warm, was full of books and couches but he kept forgetting he was in the middle of a war, that luxury didn’t come with couches and books out here.
“When did Templeton show up, Murdock?”
“He was there when I woke up in the middle of the night.”
“Last night?”
“Sure,” Murdock traced an invisible path on the surface of the table and wasn’t sure why he was being asked all these questions when they could be asking Templeton them directly, “I could go get him, he’s probably flirting with that nurse, he can answer all of these better than I can.”
“No, it’s… it’s alright,” the doctor said, clearing his throat and finally sitting down.
“Okay.”
“When you say he was there when you woke up… can you be more specific?”
“I was having a bad dream and when I woke up, he was standing right next to my bed,” Murdock gestured, placing his hands in the appropriate spots in the air, “he pulled up a stool and sat down.”
“And what did he tell you?”
“Not much,” Murdock chewed on his thumb, something he didn’t do unless he was nervous because he got the feeling that this doctor might try to find a way to get Templeton to leave.
“Did he say anything about why he…” the doctor flattened his hair and adjusted his glasses, “wasn’t dead?”
“Said it was complicated. You know, I really think that you should be talking to him. I mean, I know even less than you do!”
“Okay. Sure, I can talk to him. Why don’t you go get him.”
Murdock stood, cautiously at first, and then sprinted towards the door, leaning out to call over to where Templeton had been trying to get the nurse’s attention and she was doing an excellent job at pretending he wasn’t there. She jumped when Murdock called to his friend, telling him that the doctor needed to speak to him, if he didn’t mind leaving that poor woman alone for just a few minutes. Templeton nodded, giving Murdock a quick slap on the shoulder and a curious grin before entering the room and Murdock went to get comfortable until the doctor asked if maybe just he and Peck could have a little time by themselves. Murdock didn’t like it but he didn’t have a choice and he ducked out, heading back towards his bed.
“It’s fine, I’m sure,” the nurse said, “he just needs to make sure Templeton is where he’s supposed to be. I mean, we all thought he was dead.”
“It’s crazy, right?”
“Crazy,” she repeated, glancing up at Murdock and he shared her look until she moved her head away, gazing back towards the door when it opened and the doctor called her inside. Murdock watched as it shut tightly and the knob turned as it was locked.
Murdock was eating one of the regulation sandwiches an hour later when the door burst open and the three of them went striding out, the doctor and the nurse not even giving Murdock a second look and disappearing into an office. Templeton meandered over, his jacket slung over his shoulder and he dropped down on the edge of Murdock’s mattress and leaned over, picking at his crust.
“What’d you talk about,” Murdock asked with his mouth full and Templeton shrugged.
“Nothing. You know, they’re getting real used to pretending I’m not sitting right there. Didn’t even ask me how I was feeling. Talked about you mostly.”
“About me?”
“I tuned them out. Eventually, they stopped conversing and let me out and, well, here I am,” he shook his head and pushed Murdock’s hand away when the man offered him half of his meal, “what’re your plans for the rest of the day?”
“Nothin’.”
“I could teach you some of my tricks, now that we’ve got some time.”
Murdock grinned.
A week later and Murdock was still there. He was beginning to get bored and, even with Templeton as company, he was running out of things to talk about, things to do and he had suggested possibly writing a book to just pass the time but Templeton had hated every single one of his ideas so Murdock had given up. He was playing with his shoelaces while Templeton sat on the stool next to his bed, reading a beat up novel he kept tucked in his back pocket when Murdock thought he heard his name, lifting his head to see the doctor speaking to a short man with gray hair, dressed in a Colonel’s uniform, a cigar clamped tightly between his teeth.
“Are you sure?” The doctor was saying and he sounded like he was trying to keep his voice lowered but in a room full of mostly sleeping men, it was difficult to make a whisper not sound like shouting and Murdock shared a look with Templeton.
“I need the best. He’s the best,” the man was saying, blowing smoke in the doctor’s face.
“Yes, but…” the doctor realized that Murdock was listening and lightly grabbed the man’s arm and turned him away, going out into the hallway and the rest of their conversation was silenced.
“I think they were talking about you, Murdock,” Templeton said and Murdock pointed at his own chest, mouth hanging open slightly in what could have been mock surprise. The two men returned, the doctor looking resigned and as if he had just told the grey-haired Colonel that it would be his own funeral and Murdock watched as the Colonel ambled over, pausing at the side of his bed and holding out his hand.
“Captain Murdock. I’m Colonel Hannibal Smith. My Sergeant and I are putting together a team and we need a pilot, the best pilot. And that would be you.” Murdock grasped his hand in returned, moving to his feet as he shook it and out of the corner of his eye he saw Templeton stand as well and salute, Murdock doing the same once Hannibal had let go, “what do you say, Captain?”
“Well, Colonel, I readily accept. If only Lieutenant Peck may join us. A team isn’t a team without a fourth member after all,” Murdock said with a wink and a nod and Hannibal nodded back.
“Of course, where are my manners,” he held out his hand towards where the stool was and Templeton raised an eyebrow at Murdock first before grasping Hannibal’s hand and giving it two shakes before dropping it, “Lieutenant. We’d be honored you have you aboard as well. What say you?”
“Well, sure,” Templeton smiled, “I could use some excitement after hanging around here with Murdock for a week and a half.”
“Excellent,” Hannibal said, although he was staring at Murdock when he spoke, searching his face and he had been slow with his response. He pulled his cigar out of his mouth, pinching it between his thumb and forefinger, “alright gentlemen. Get yourselves dressed and ready to go. The car is waiting outside.”
(“What’d’ya mean ‘invisible friend’, Hannibal,” B.A. exclaimed once Hannibal had returned back outside, “you didn’t tell me the fool was crazy!”
“Now, Sergeant,” Hannibal said, adjusting himself in the passenger seat, “if I told you that, you never would have agreed to take him on as our pilot, now would you.”
“I still don’t like this Hannibal. Even if he is supposed to be the best.”
“It’s simple, B.A.. All we have to do is play along. It’ll be easy. In a few months, he’ll be done with this and everything will go according to plan. And you know—”
“Yeah, yeah. You love it when a plan comes together.”)
twenty years later
“Alright, Murdock. I have to tell you something and you won’t like what I have to say but it’s been long enough,” for once, Hannibal didn’t have a cigar in his mouth and he reached out, placing his hands on Murdock’s shoulders and Murdock was highly confused, looking first to B.A. who stood a few steps back like he was expecting the roof to cave in. Face – a nickname Murdock had given him ten years ago – looked startled and confused.
“Okay, Colonel.” This seemed serious so Murdock put on his best serious voice.
“Murdock, it’s about Face.”
“What about him?” Murdock went to stare at Face and why did he look so terrified but Hannibal was grabbing his chin and forcing Murdock to focus on him and only him and something caught in Murdock’s throat because he wasn’t sure he liked where this was going.
“Murdock,” and he didn’t like the way Hannibal kept saying his name, “Face…” Hannibal let out a heavy exhale, “he isn’t real.”
“What?” Murdock laughed, his grin pulling wide across his face but nobody else was laughing and when he glanced to Face the guy looked like so damn scared and Murdock’s chuckling died down and he shook his head. “Hannibal, he’s right there. He’s standing right next to me.”
“No, Murdock. No he’s not,” Hannibal’s face conveyed nothing but pain and sympathy, like he hadn’t awoke this morning planning to do any of this and Murdock giggled nervously.
“What’s going on? This is a prank, right? you’re just tryin’ to freak me out.”
“Murdock, please,” Hannibal begged. Hannibal never begged.
“No, no. He did something screwy in the war and… and they thought he was dead but he wasn’t. Hannibal, he’s been a part of the team for twenty years. We’ve put our life in his hands…” Murdock was losing his breath and he tried to wrench out of Hannibal’s grip but the guy wasn’t going to let him go that easy so he kept struggling and struggling until B.A. said something and Hannibal let go.
Murdock attempted to put as much distance as possible between the three of them and him and he put his head in his hands, burying his face in his fingers and moaned something into his palms.
“You’re lying,” Murdock said, “you’re lying.”
“We wish we were, man,” B.A. said quietly, “we played along but we didn’t think it would last this long.”
“You’re lying,” Murdock repeated, head moving back and forth and he finally looked up but it was difficult to see. He locked eyes with Face and Face was staring back at him like he had just gotten stabbed in the chest, like Murdock had personally walked up to him and dug it right in and he was angry.
“Murdock,” Face started, “you can’t believe him. He’s trying to screw with you he’s—”
“Whatever he’s saying to you,” Hannibal interrupted, “don’t listen. You have to trust us,” he gestured to himself and B.A.
“What about when he broke me out of the hospital all those times?”
“You broke yourself out, Murdock,” Hannibal said with a tired sigh.
“And all those missions, all those times he conned all those people and… and…” he was aware he was crying, that his lungs were gasping for air and he felt like maybe he was going to pass out but he couldn’t allow himself and he couldn’t make himself look at Face anymore because the expression on his face was already burning into his head.
“That was you. You did all of that, Murdock. You conned all those people. You’re good at it. You need to snap out of it, Murdock,” and Murdock filled with rage because they weren’t doctors, they didn’t know what they were saying.
“Maybe you’re the ones who aren’t real,” Murdock yelled, “maybe I made the two of you up in my… my…” he wiggled his fingers at his head, “maybe Face is the only real one here.”
“Murdock…” Hannibal’s voice had a warning tone and he advanced, maybe to touch him, to prove a point but Murdock just lurched away, throwing his arms out in front of him because he couldn’t handle someone putting their hands on him, “if you don’t… if you can’t…” it was the first time that Murdock had ever witnessed Hannibal at a loss for the right words, “we’ll take you back to the hospital and…”
“…and we won’t never come back for you, fool, alright,” B.A. finished for him, fists curling up at his sides and Murdock hid his face again, stumbling against the couch.
“No, no, no, no, no it’s not true, it’s not true,” he began to cry harder, sobbing into his sleeve and he flailed, sending a lamp crashing to the floor, the light bulb shattering in a mess of sparks and glass. When Hannibal tried once again to get closer, Murdock picked up a pillow from the couch and flung it at him, nailing him hard in the stomach. Hannibal said something to B.A. and the man charged forward, spinning Murdock and grabbing him around the waist and ignoring the kicks that were being delivered to his thighs and knees, keeping Murdock’s arms flattened to his sides and he began to carry him to the door, listening as he sobbed and screamed.
Hannibal was close behind and he locked the door once they were outside and Murdock was being shoved into the back of the van and he pounded on the door as it slid closed, peering out the back window as they drove away, watching as Face stood in the middle of the street and Murdock should have questioned how he got out there if the door was locked from the outside but he just slammed a closed fist against the glass until Hannibal had to climb back there and fling him into a chair and strap him down with the seatbelt.
The nurse met them at the door as if she had been expecting them the entire time and it took both B.A. and Hannibal grasping either arm to lead Murdock down the hallways and they handed him off to two people dressed in white clothes and he protested as much as he could and, for a few seconds, he managed to escape but then there was a prick on the back of his neck and the last thing he remembered before falling asleep was seeing Hannibal having an argument with one of the nurses.
two years later
Murdock never saw Face again.
But B.A. and Hannibal never came back.
He can't remember if they even promised that they would.