This fic has a few, little curse words here and there.

(On April 19th, protests were held in New York, San Francisco, Los Angeles, and elsewhere in response to the escalation of bombing over in Vietnam.)

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

April 19th, 1972

There came a soft tap from behind the door and Hannibal jumped up from his seat in surprise. He pulled it open cautiously, hand hovering over his gun holster just in case. In walked the blonde-haired Lieutenant, smiling brightly and ignoring the fact that his Colonel was about to draw his weapon.

"Good morning, Hannibal." He greeted cheerfully, though Hannibal didn't know why.

"What's so good about it?" The Colonel replied as he once again took his seat.

Peck looked slightly surprised at first, blinked, and then smiled again. "Don't you remember?" He asked.

Hannibal tilted his head in confusion.

"Murdock?" Face prompted. "He's been released? Remember, you told me yesterday. You said we would pick him up this afternoon."

"Oh, eh, yeah, haha..." The Colonel laughed weakly. Face didn't notice the nervousness in his voice or his sudden, restless movements.

"Where's B.A?" Temp asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee and taking a sip.

"He's just getting some more gas for the van." Hannibal answered.

The blonde nodded and took a seat on the sofa, grinning to himself, while the Colonel pondered on the situation of picking up their Pilot.

"The screws are loose, Hannibal; we're ready." Grunted B.A down the phone.

The silver-haired man ran a gloved hand down his face and sighed. "All right, we'll be at the hospital in 10." He put down the receiver and glanced over at his Lieutenant once again; he could tell how eager the younger man was. "You brought your uniform, Face?" Hannibal asked, standing up from his chair slowly.

Templeton nodded, but at the same time frowned. "Yeah, but why do I need it?"

"Just get it on. I'll explain later." Said the Colonel.

The truth was, Hannibal was lying about B.A getting gas for their crummy, old van. No, the Sergeant had fuelled up hours ago, this was all just a diversion for Face. If he really knew what was about to go down, he would have refused to be apart of it.

They were walking down the sidewalk approximately ten minutes later, one man excited, the other anxious, towards the VA hospital. Just parked up a few yards away from the entrance was B.A, also in his military uniform, leaning against his rusted, green vehicle. The Sergeant and the Colonel glanced at each other, communicating with their eyes.

"Face, wait here and look out for Lynch or any of his goons snooping around; we're still wanted, you know." Hannibal commanded the blonde, as he and B.A ambled away from the van. Peck, disappointed but yet buzzing with anticipation, turned his back and watched out for the men in green.

B.A and Hannibal quickly jogged over to the back of the building and arrived at a window with some mesh on the outside. The screws on each corner securing it to the window had been taken out, and now the mesh was hanging loosely so it was easy to get to the glass. Quietly and smoothly, B.A tugged off the mesh and slid open the window, letting Hannibal climb inside.

The Colonel silently thanked his Sergeant for getting the correct room as he surveyed his surroundings, or at least tried to; it was very dark despite it being a bright and sunny day outside. The room was incredibly untidy. Sheets and bits of paper were scattered all over the floor, there were unexplainable drawings pinned on the walls and clothes strewn on lamps and desks. Because it was so dark, Hannibal almost couldn't find the man he was looking for; his Pilot, laying in between the mountains of covers and blankets around him like some sort of fort.

"Captain?" The silver-haired man whispered, creeping towards the bed. He didn't receive an answer, just a blank stare and a fitful huff from the other man.

Murdock had changed quite a bit since the last time Hannibal saw him. His hair was cut into that awful institution style, deep, mulberry bags drooping from his hollow, brown eyes and his skin had sunken into his skull, revealing his bone structure greatly. Needless to say, he did not look well at all.

Hannibal reached out his gloved hand in order to prompt the younger man out of bed. "Captain, come with me, please. We need to be leaving."

Still, the Pilot continued to stare, his haunted gaze burrowing deep into the Colonel's soul. "I won't come with you, damn Gook bastard!" He hissed.

"Hurry up, fool, we need to go!" Shouted B.A from the window. He wasn't in the mood of getting caught by the Military and imprisoned again, just because some crazy idiot wouldn't play nice.

The man uttered what Hannibal thought were curse words in Vietnamese and scooted to the edge of the bed, holding his hands over his ears. The Colonel gave his Sergeant an uneasy glance. "Murdock, son, it's okay; you're back in the States." He assured as he walked over to the Pilot and nervously rested a hand on his shoulder. He felt the stick-thin brunette shudder from his touch and tense like a spring being pushed down. "Look at me, Murdock," Hannibal gently ordered and smiled when the Captain turned his head, staring him in the eyes, focussing so hard on his features that it looked like it pained him.

"Hannibal?" The man asked quietly, voice soft and filled with awe. "Is that you?"

"Welcome back, Captain." The silver-haired Colonel grinned.

Face was tapping his foot impatiently on the concrete as he waited for the rest of his Team to be reunited with him. It had been longer than five minutes and he was starting to worry. Maybe he should go and investigate-

The sound of footsteps, more than two, were making their way towards the van quickly. First he saw B.A pass him and climb into the drivers seat, followed by Hannibal also sitting up front, and lastly Murdock, stopping in front of Face.

"Hi," he mumbled quietly.

The blonde nodded and smiled. "Good to see you, pal. How have you been?"

Murdock was just about to reply, but B.A's annoyed horn beeping interrupted him. "Get in, fools!" He yelled angrily. Sliding open the heavy door, the two men took their seats in the back and settled in for the drive back to Hannibal's place.

Face was utterly confused. They were supposed to have taken a left three stop signs ago, but B.A had just kept on driving and Hannibal hadn't said anything about it yet. Murdock had quickly fallen asleep a few minutes into the journey (Face wasn't surprised; he looked like he hadn't slept in weeks) and was blissfully unaware of what was going on.

"Um, Hannibal," the Lieutenant inquired quietly, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," answered the older man.

Peck didn't like the sound of that. He was still puzzled as to why they were dressed in their military uniforms and how Murdock wasn't. He was vexed how B.A sounded so desperate to get going (yes, he knew they were wanted fugitives, but he could've at least had the chance to find out how his friend was doing.) And he felt that something was being held back from him, that he was being lied to.

The van soon came to a stop at a busy, crowded street, filled with fierce-looking young people holding signs and shouting. Protesters? Why were they at a protest?

"What are we doing here?" Face shot, glaring at the Colonel.

Hannibal turned in his seat and quickly eyed the sleeping Pilot, then met stares with Peck. "We thought we'd check out an anti-war campaign going on downtown." He said calmly.

"If you haven't noticed all ready, Hannibal, we're in our uniforms, which I still don't know why that is. We'll get picked out straight away by those hippies out there!" Templeton hissed in irritation and frustration.

"I know. That's the whole point, Face." He replied simply, then opened the door and hopped out.

Face, clenching his fists in anger, watched the van door slide open and Hannibal, B.A behind him, giving him the signal to get out. The Lieutenant shook his head and crossed his arms defiantly, but the Sergeant latched onto him and pulled him out the vehicle. Pouting, the blonde saw Hannibal climb into the back and gently shake the unconscious Pilot awake.

"Captain? Captain, wake up."

Murdock squirmed and wriggled out of the Colonel's touch, murmuring in his sleep. He looked like he was stuck in the middle of a bad dream.

Finally, after a few more attempts to rouse the Pilot, Murdock's frightened, brown eyes shot open. They darted and scanned the others' faces in confusion, but then the present came flooding back to him.

"Where are we?" He asked meekly. "What's goin' on?"

Hannibal stroked the Captain's arm and tried to think of a way to explain. "We're just going to look around for a bit, Murdock; nothing to worry about, just a nice, little stroll." He was lying, but if it made the all ready anxious Pilot a little more at ease, it was okay. Murdock nodded but still didn't understand. He was handed a duffel bag from Hannibal and told to get changed, while they waited outside.

The Colonel slid the van door shut, giving Murdock a little more privacy, and turned to B.A and Face. But before he even had a chance to open his mouth, his Lieutenant cut him off.

"What the hell are you planning, Hannibal?" He growled.

The silver-haired man ignored him and fished out a cigar from his breast pocket.

"Murdock has been out of that hospital not even half an hour, and all ready you're up to something. What's going on here, what's the meaning of all this?"

Slightly annoyed by Face's "20 questions" routine, Hannibal chewed hard on the tobacco cylinder and glared at the blonde. "Face, I know what I'm doing. Just relax, will you?" He snapped.

Face bit his tongue and sulked, while B.A grumbled and shook his head. The Mechanic didn't exactly know what Hannibal was planning either, but he knew it had something to do with the protest going on today.

After a couple of awkward, silent minutes, a puzzled, sheepish-looking Murdock gingerly emerged from the van and stood behind Hannibal. He was now wearing his uniform but it seemed a little to big for him, which really made Face worry that his friend had lost a lot of weight. Peck watched the Colonel guide the Pilot along the sidewalk.

The man looked so dazed and out of place. It was like he was a puppet on a string, being pulled and pushed about, steered around things and people, while his limbs were floppy and his eyes were lifeless. For a man who had just been released from a mental institution, he sure didn't look sane.

As they weaved in and out of sign-wielding protesters, Face felt more and more pairs of eyes burning through him. He was receiving a lot more unwanted attention than he'd hoped for.
He heard booing and hissing either side of him. People were starting to push and shove.

"Baby killer!" He heard someone yell.

"Go and burn down some villages, murderer!" A woman shouted.

The Lieutenant fought back the urge to turn around and backhand the lady, but knew that wouldn't do him any favours. He honestly felt like grabbing Murdock and heading straight for the van. He couldn't even see the Pilot, neither could he find B.A or Hannibal. Panic flooded through him; how had he lost them so easily?
Suddenly, he heard a ruckus going on from nearby and pushed his way through the crowded streets to where it was coming from.

A lanky fellow, adorned with badges and necklaces, was nose-to-nose with Hannibal, who was standing protectively in front of a vacant-eyed Murdock. The man had a large, untamed beard and wild hair. He was impossible to miss.

As Face made his way over hastily, he caught snippets of the heated argument through the sound of angry yelling made by the other protesters.

"You good-for-nothin' pig, killin' those innocent people. They haven't done nothin' to you, man!"

"Listen, grease-ball, we were protecting our country. Do you think we wanted to kill those people-"

"Protectin'? Destroyin' a country for the safety of another is protectin' it?" A large circle had formed around the man, Hannibal, Murdock and B.A, who stood by the Pilot's side clenching his fists. As the man stepped back, everything suddenly went silent. The man glared daggers at the Colonel and spat on his shoes. B.A prepared to knock out the man's teeth and moved forward.

"Whoa, so you're gonna kill me now, huh, big man? Is that all you guys do, kill, kill, kill?"

The Sergeant halted.

The bearded man eyed Murdock, who's mind was elsewhere, standing in the middle of the three soldiers. He grabbed the Pilot's arm and tugged him forward, causing his sleeve to roll up slightly, revealing a white hospital wristband strapped to his wrist. The man's eyes widened but then glimmered with satisfaction.

With a smug smile sliding onto his lips, he announced. "Patient Murdock, H.M... VA Psychiatric Hospital."

Face, who was still ramming his way to the front, stopped dead in his tracks. He saw the man lift the Captain's arm into the air and wave it around.

"War fucks with the psyche, people. No good can come of it. All those medals and honors, they don't mean shit! This dude is far gone, lives in a mental ward, all 'cus The Man started this horrible fight."

A chorus of "yeahs" echoed around him.

The blonde snapped himself out of his shock and stormed forward, into the circle, grabbing Murdock by the arm and leading him out of the crowd. He ignored the shouting and vulgar directed at him and carried on walking, the mute Pilot shuffling behind him.

Back at the van, Face waited with Murdock for Hannibal and B.A to return. It took ten minutes for them to come back.

B.A unlocked the doors and got settled in the front, Hannibal sat in the drivers seat, twirling a cigar in his fingers, and Murdock and Face sat in the back, neither of them looking at anything but their shoes. All four of them were drowning in silence, it was almost deafening.

Finally, the Colonel sighed deeply. "I didn't know that would happen..."

No one said anything else.

As they were driving back to Hannibal's place, Face slammed his fist against the side of the van door, making the three other men jump in surprise.

"Dammit, Hannibal, what the hell where you thinking?!" He yelled.

After a minute of quiet, Hannibal spoke. "Pull over, B.A."

The van came to a stop and the Colonel turned to face his Lieutenant. "I wanted to show Murdock here that we aren't in 'Nam anymore, we're really back home... I... I couldn't think of any other way to show him that."

"Because he's still stuck in the past, yeah, I know, Hannibal. How could you lie to me? Lie to me about something like this? Murdock is my best friend- I thought he was... he was Murdock again."

"I am Murdock." Said Murdock quietly, interrupting the two. He was still staring down at his boots, like a child who was being told off.

Face immediately softened his tone. "I know you are, bud, but you've just been a little bit sick lately, haven't you?"

The Pilot nodded.

"But you don't need to be anymore. We're not back in that place, you're safe. We're all here to look after you."

Murdock looked up at the blonde, big, brown eyes filled with such pain and Face saw a rare, raw lucidity sparkling in them.

"I can't forget." He uttered, voice strained and cracked. "I'll always be there, you know? When you've seen that much death and destruction, you never look at things the same ever again... I'll always be there."

Peck, Smith and Baracus were stunned into silence at Murdock's words. But as quick as it came, the clarity in the Captain's eyes was gone, replaced by a dull, empty stare and a mutter about the jungle. Sane Murdock had came and left. Traumatised Murdock was back.

"Come on, Murdock, lie down, go to sleep."

The Colonel adjusted the Pilot's limbs so that he was able to sleep on the sofa, and draped a thin, woolly blanket over him. He waited for a good five minutes, but the man's eyes wouldn't close.

"Goodnight Murdock," Hannibal sighed, giving up and walking slowly down the hall to his room.

It was quiet, the Captain's response, almost like a whisper, but Hannibal's sharp ears managed to hear it.

"Night, Han'bal."

Smiling to himself, the Colonel opened the door to his room and saw Templeton sitting with his head in his hands on the bed. The smile vanished from his face. "What's wrong?"

"What Murdock said; it's haunting me."

"Me too."

Face sighed and felt Hannibal sitting down next to him. "Do you think we'll ever get him back?" The younger man asked quietly.

"Murdock's strong. He'll pull through this, Lieutenant, just you wait." Hannibal assured, though he wasn't entirely confident himself.

"What are we going to do with him?"

"We'll drop him back at the VA tomorrow. Right now he just needs to know where he is and that we're always with him."

The blonde got up and went to the door. "Hannibal, I don't understand fully why you took him out to a protest, but I'm glad you did. I got to see a side of Murdock I haven't seen in a couple of years. Thank you."

"You're welcome." Grinned the Colonel.

Face chuckled softly and closed the door, taking one last glance at Murdock lying, open-eyed, on the sofa. He thought of everything that had happened today; picking up his buddy from the hospital, driving to the protest, the incident with the hippie, and the emotional journey back home, and he knew that he would remember this day for the rest of his life. He wasn't sure if Murdock would be Murdock again, and he didn't care. As long as he was able to see his friend not trapped behind bars, he was satisfied. That moment of lucidity was a step towards the Captain getting better, and although it was painful to hear, it was a blessing.

He just shook his head, with a small, smile, and entered his own room, ready to face the next day with a different outlook.