"Hannibal?" Face knocked the tentpole.
Hannibal looked up to see the lieutenant's slightly uncomfortable and concerned expression, and something icy settled in his gut. "What is it Face?" he asked, putting down his pen and pushing the papers aside. Face waved him along and he followed the man in the direction of Murdock's tent.
"Something's wrong with Murdock," Face began.
Hannibal sighed, "Did he sew eyes on your socks again? I've asked him to only put eyes on his own, but he reasons that he needs to use his own."
Face shook his head negative, "He's... having a tea party. But you gotta go check with me, because I don't know what's in those cups or what's in those cookies. It smells like cleaning supplies."
The pair arrived a bit quicker and Face threw open the captain's tent entrance. A strange smell hit their noses and Hannibal was inclined to agree. It smelled like cleaning supplies. The scene they found inside was much like Face had described. A tea party. Murdock sat at the edge of a circle drawn into the dust on the floor, three tea cups filled with a clear liquid and a plate of 'cookies' on the improvised table. The cookies looked like mud mixed with gunpowder, and judging from what they already knew of Murdock, it probably was mud mixed with gunpowder. And more cleaning supplies.
Murdock himself was sitting on the ground, excitedly talking to people or creatures invisible to others. "But, the point is to never trust a squad, because they will rip you apart, limb from limb," Murdock finished explaining to someone to his right. He looked up with a wide smile on his face and lifted a cup in salute, "Colonel."
"Murdock, what are you doing?" Hannibal asked.
"It's a tea party," Murdock said slowly, as if talking to a child. "I was just explaining to Billy and Andy that you can't trust a squad. You want a cup of tea?" he said, looking around for extra cups. Where he'd found the other three cups was a mystery to them.
"What do you mean a squad?" Face asked, frowning.
"A group of squids. A squad! You want tea too Facey?" Murdock asked, excited to have company. But both officers could see something was wrong. Murdock was way too giddy, his breathing was quick and he was sweating. If they took his pulse it would probably be faster than normal.
"No thanks Murdock. What's in those cups?" Face asked gently.
Hannibal was handed his cup of 'tea' and he smelled the contents before handing it to Face. His expert guess would be either lighter fluid or anti-freeze, not cleaning supplies at all. "Murdock, have you been drinking this?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Isn't it delicious?" Murdock asked, and then took a big gulp from his own cup. Hannibal shot forward and snatched the cup from Murdock's hands, despite loud protests from the captain. "I wasn't finished with that!" he yelled.
"Murdock, you're drinking dangerous chemicals! You're gonna get sick!" Hannibal reprimanded, throwing the remaining contents of the cup out on the sand.
"But it's good!" Murdock ignored the dangerous part and picked up another cup, drinking the the remaining liquid before Hannibal could grab him. Face then snatched the remaining cup off the ground and poured the contents out.
Hannibal grabbed Murdock's arms, "We need to get you to the medic. You're going to get sick, do you understand that?"
But Murdock was silent, only his quick breathing could be heard in the tent. Then he looked up at Hannibal, and for a moment they thought he was going to explode in their faces. "Let go of me," he said quietly, but firmly. When Hannibal failed to comply quick enough, the captain screeched, "Get your hands off me!"
"Murdock, calm down!" Face stepped forward, but Murdock only jumped back several steps, nearly knocking himself to the ground when he tripped over a duffle bag.
"Don't fucking touch me!" the captain yelled, trying his best to refrain from screaming.
"What the hell is going on in here?!" B.A. thundered, flipping the tent door to the side and Murdock flung his arms around the big man's neck.
"BA! You gotta help me; they want to throw me back to Mexico! Don't let them throw me back to Mexico, please!" Murdock wailed, burying his face in B.A.'s chest and proceeded to bawl his eyes out. Usually B.A. would have thrown the other man off without a second thought, but the panicked tone and the tears made the sergeant pause. Instead he wrapped his arms around Murdock's shaking form and shot the two others a look that promised an explanation would soon follow. "You won't send me back to Mexico, will you? I'll be good, I promise! Please!" Murdock cried, looking up at B.A. with wet eyes and quivering lips.
"No, fool. Imma keep you so I can make sure you don' poison anymore with that anti-freeze marinade o' yours," B.A. grunted, pressing Murdock close and the Captain's face lit up.
"Really?"
"Plus, you make one hell of a curry taponade," B.A. added and Murdock nodded.
"I'll go make more - right away!" he said and hurried out of the tent like Hell was on his heels.
B.A. nodded, mostly to himself, and returned his attention to the Lieutenant and the Colonel. He crossed his arms, "Now, you wanna tell me what the hell is going on?"
Face opened his mouth, gaping a bit like a fish before gesturing to the tea cups on the floor, "Murdock was... throwing a tea party of some sorts with his imaginary friends. I though he was drinking cleaning supplies or worse so I got the Colonel, to help me calm him down. He freaked when we tried to stop the party."
B.A. was silent, before pointing an accusing finger at the pair of them, "If his only motivation to stay here is fear of returning to the psych ward in Mexico..." He let the words hang in the air and Hannibal nodded.
"I propose a night out. Get something to drink, shoot some darts or pool or whatever," he said.
Face nodded, "Yeah, we haven't been off base for ages!"
B.A. pressed his lips together, "Not tonight though. Fool's gotta calm down and make his food."
Hannibal nodded, "I know. We'll take the weekend off. I'll clear it with Morrison."
"I may not like his flying, but he's a damn fine pilot," B.A. said, exiting the tent and leaving the other two gentlemen to their thoughts. He went towards his own tent, pulling on a jacket when he felt the cold wind hit his bare shoulders. He huffed and went to the mess, hands buried deep in his pockets. The staff usually let Murdock do whatever he wanted to. He might be a mess but he made friends damn quick and his cooking wasn't exactly bad. He pushed the door open and silence fell immediately. People still weren't used to his sour looks and muscled arms.
"Bosco!" Murdock called from somewhere around the kitchen and B.A. gave a small smirk as he crossed the room and went for the fool. Murdock had wiped his face but his eyes were still red and it looked like the staff had noticed, shooting glares at him as he came close. B.A. didn't mind. Murdock held up a piece of toast, "I'm making that curry taponade you love."
"With toast points?" B.A. asked, already knowing the answer.
"Yup, toast points. You want some toast now?" Murdock asked, dropping the still warm bread on a plate and handing it over. B.A. didn't protest and accepted the plate, sitting himself down at the nearest table. It looked like Murdock had calmed down dramatically, falling low after his previous high. But the pilot didn't let it drag the smile off his face. And B.A. couldn't help but smile as well.
