A/N: This turned out a bit sadder than I planned, but I hope the ending is still hopeful. There are episode references to The Big Squeeze, and characters from Pros and Cons, Water Water Everywhere, The Taxicab Wars, Waste 'Em!, Knights of the Road, Lease with an Option to Die, Nice Place to Visit, the Bells of St. Mary's, Bad Day at Black Rock/Deadly Maneuvers, and some general Season-5ness. Please enjoy and review!

Freedom had never been so binding.

I mused the thought, turning it in my head as I turned my glass. It's funny, in a morose sort of way, that the thing that you fought so long for is what spells your spiral to doom. But it was true. At least, in my case it was.

Because what was there to do anymore?

They always tell you to achieve your goals, but they never tell you what to do with that accomplishment. Do you use it? How?

3 years ago I was absolutely elated. I felt relieved and seemed that a gigantic weight had suddenly vanished from my shoulders. The world had finally opened up to me. Anything was possible. We could all live normal lives now.

The pardon had come through.

I'll admit, I broke down and cried when they handed us the good news. But I wasn't the only one. I think we all cried a little bit, in one way or another, because it felt like we could finally rest at last.

Rest. Restless.

We stuck together for the first several months, going on a long, much-needed vacation. But after that came the burning question: what do we do now? What can we do? More than ten years living on the lam changes how you view the world. View society.

Well, we could get jobs. One thing that came with the pardon was a discharge from the army, which we accepted, because being spared our lives was enough. Now it was time to drift around and find work. Going legit meant you had to get a job.

I don't think any of us really fit in.

No, correction: most of us didn't fit in. Surprisingly, out of all of us B.A. is the one who's thrived. He landed a job in an autoshop, and quickly worked up the ranks until he took ownership of the store. Then he started his own car shop. Everyone marveled the mechanical genius, as his vehicles and designs were very versatile and useful. I heard even the army has bought some of his work. Guess they're thanking the Almighty now that they didn't waste such a great source of genius. Literally.

I saw him on TV once, during an interview for the opening of another one of his stores. He looked good, still had all that shiny gold everywhere, but he seemed more at peace. A large portion of his profits were being donated to various youth centers. He still looked out for those kids. B.A. may have a bad attitude, but he's always had a huge heart.

It fits that he would be doing so well. In many ways, B.A. is the one out of all of us who always stayed true to himself. Between my cons, Hannibal's acting jobs, and Murdock's ploys in and out of the hospital, B.A. is the one who never lied his way out of or into anything. Oh, sure, he stayed on the down-low, but he never tried to hide who he was.

Of course he's the best one to go legit. I am honestly happy for him.

Maybe even a little jealous.

But he's the only one out of all of us who didn't seem lost.

So lost.

Murdock and I stuck together for a long time. I think he was a little lost, too, now that he was out of the VA and the team was no more. I watched him bounce around from job to job, always getting fired for some odd act or behavior, each time crazier than the last. He didn't seem to know what to do in the real world, didn't know how to fit in.

I always knew. I think I figured out his place on this Earth the day that I met him. The man was born to fly. Though flying was harder to do when you're going straight. You can't exactly hop on a shiny helicopter whenever it strikes your fancy without money. Even worse with any type of plane. And I knew there was no way he'd make it as a commercial pilot- passengers tend to frown at loopdy-loops and other aerobatics.

But I knew he needed to fly, so I donned my best suit once more and took him down to Hollywood studios and signed him up as a stunt pilot. Lots of different airplanes to fly, lots of different tricks to do, and I knew he'd be at the top of his field. Hollywood was always looking for bigger and better and faster and crazier stuff, and Murdock fit the bill superbly because he was about the only one willing to do the craziest, death-defying stunts up in the blue. The studios loved him, and after the test runs they signed the contract immediately. I finally saw Murdock's face light up again with that crazy grin of his- he even hugged me for setting up the deal.

Since he was finally making some money he bought his own place and moved out. I didn't lose track of him- we stayed in touch. He started seeing Kelly again, and the two were really going well. He knew I was in a sort of funk, and a couple weeks showed up on my doorstep with an excited grin and something behind his back.

"I know that you've been feeling like you don't have any actual traits to succeed in the world," he bubbled quickly. "But I've found something that is right up your alley and completely legal!" I couldn't even get a word out before he thrust the paper he was hiding in my face. "An acting contract!" he beamed proudly. "There's a man looking for a debonair-type fella to be in his first movie, and all you have to do is sign up at the Actor's Guild and accept this contract! It'll be great, Faceman, you'll be back in your zone!"

My zone. I was a conman. Sure, all those scams meant I was one heck of an actor, and I was used to lying and playing a part. Was that really who I was?

As my silence stretched on his smile started to shrink. "Well, will you, uh, think about it, Faceman? I hate to see you like this, and you got me to where I am today and I figured when I heard this deal that I should, ya know, let you know… will you think about it? Please?"

I told him I would and he left and I did nothing for the next two weeks.

When I got the news, it wasn't because somebody had called. It wasn't because somebody told me. I was sitting in a chair at a bar and staring at the TV screen when the announcement was made. Some reporter, whose name I didn't even know, told me and 20 million others over the network. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe. I sat stock still in my chair until the bar closed, and I was so unresponsive that the owner started calling 911 for paramedics to come look at me before I shook myself to and stopped the call. I paid my tab and wandered out onto the street, utterly dazed.

I somehow found my way home and stood staring at my closet. I knew I was discharged. Would it be disrespectful to wear that rank again? I snorted, quickly dismissing the thought. In this case, it would be disrespectful not to.

One thing you never forgot from the military: you keep that uniform in damn good shape. I polished the buttons, shined the shoes, and pressed the cloth until it looked brand new. I set it on my dresser, awaiting the day I would put it on again. A day that had come too soon.

I don't know how much time passed between the news announcement and the funeral. All the days in between were a blur to me. I just know that I showed up at that church in my uniform, shaved, somber, and sober.

I was surprised to find such a large turnout. I don't know why- he certainly wasn't short of friends. I recognized many faces. With a start I realized that most of these folk were people we'd helped out over the years. I saw the disabled vets whose hotel we'd helped save. There were the folks from the Lone Star Taxi company, the tow truck company, and the waste disposal company. Jase even lurked in a corner. There were shopkeepers, restaurant owners and other small-time business people. Trish Brenner was there, too, paying her respects as we had to her late husband. And there was also Mrs. Barracus. I even spotted the Bells sitting quietly together on one of the rows.

What family he had was there, too. I saw Jack, Kid Harmon and his wife, and that, yes, that little tyke must be their baby. My, he's grown. He colored on a piece of paper, oblivious to the surroundings.

I even spotted Dr. Maggie Sullivan. I knew she was special to him, though I never figured out how far they got. Maybe I'll never know. She smiled tightly at me as I passed, reaching out and squeezing my hand for a moment.

I lingered near the front row pew, uneager to walk the next few steps to the casket. I spotted both Tawnia and Amy to my right. Tawnia was crying. Amy kept herself more composed, but I could tell she was grieving. She caught my eye and drew in a shaky breath.

I had to go up, now. I didn't realize I was gripping the pew bench so hard until I let go to cross to the casket. I stood before the long, white box, and carefully looked down.

Oh, Hannibal…

I'd been here before. I couldn't stop the flash of Déjà-vu, erupting from so many years ago. Hannibal had been in a casket before. I'd attended his funeral before. Only then, he'd looked so still. Probably a good thing, considering he was only pretending to be dead. Now? He looked peaceful, like he was sleeping, but also empty. I knew the man had truly gone, no matter how much I hoped he would pop up with eyes opened wide and a silly Irish "Hi there!"

Silence.

I didn't know what to do. I was staring at this man's corpse. My leader, my friend was dead. The life was gone. Yet, as I looked at his stock of steel-grey hair, I was suddenly reminded that Hannibal was much older than me, much older than all of us.

Stiff and proper, I raised my hand and saluted him. I turned precisely on my heel, and walked to the front pew that B.A. was sitting in. He nodded to me knowingly as I sat down, and we looked away from each other in order to hold it in just a little longer.

Everyone was settled when Murdock walked up to the podium. Like B.A. and myself, he was wearing his full dress uniform, only he still retained his rank of captain. No conviction, no pardon, no discharge. He paused for a long moment, looking down at the podium, taking a moment before talking. With a start I realized that Murdock had been in this position before, too, only this time it was serious, with no Irish accents and avocado salads getting in the way.

"Friends and family," he started. "We are… gathered here today to honor one of the greatest men I have ever met." He broke off again, unsure, his eyes flicking back to Hannibal in the casket. Orders, sir?

"Hannibal," he drove on. "Was not like most men. His heart stayed in the right place, and he made sure that… that things were right. That they were done for the right reasons. I don't know how to describe it, but I know you folks have all felt it to some degree. He had this energy that drove you to do good, that drove you to stand up and do something. And he was honest in this. No matter what your problem, he truly, genuinely," his voice cracked slightly on the last word. "Understood."

I decided that somberness did not look right on Murdock.

"He somehow understood, even if you yourself didn't," Murdock seemed to less aware of the audience, and was more talking to himself. "He understood completely, and did everything within his power to help. That's what he was all about. Helping others." He breathed in shakily and gave a strong nod to the casket. "Thank you, Colonel."

Murdock abruptly left the podium, and there was a silence as people contemplated. B.A. shifted next to me, and I saw him stand up and cross to the vacated spot.

"I met Hannibal back in 'Nam," he said huskily. "Man was a genius, if a little crazy. He always had a plan," he smiled tightly. "He never gave up on his country, even when it was giving up on him. He helped its people, even when its people were trying to kill him. Like I said, crazy." B.A. shook his head. "But it was the right thing to do. And I am honored to call him friend."

When B.A. left I could feel all the eyes turn towards me. Slowly, stiffly, I rose and walked to the podium. All the eyes were on me, waiting for me to speak. Me, the fast-talking man with all the words.

I don't know what to say.

It dawned on me that I had said that aloud. "I don't know what to say," I repeated, still faint. "There aren't any words to describe my grief at his loss… I feel like I'm living a dream." I looked back over at the casket, spying his closed eyes. "He lived for helping others, like B.A. said, and he had this energy that led you to do the same, as Murdock said. We all caught it. We all listened to him. The years that we lived as the A-Team," I swallowed. "Were the years that he thrived.

"I don't know how the legit life has been treating him," I continued. "I don't know if he continued acting, or found something else. But I do feel that he didn't have near as much fun as we did together back in the day." My throat was dry. I felt like I didn't understand what was going on. But you never understand Hannibal's plans until the end, do you?

"I'll bet this was his plan," I said suddenly. "I'll bet that right now, up in Heaven, he's looking down at all of us, every single one of us, sitting here together and he's grinning. And if they allow cigars up in Heaven I'll betcha he's smoking one too, as he's grinning. We're his plan, and we're all together now." I finally smiled, feeling more at peace as I pictured his face. I didn't care if I rambled like a madman.

"Hannibal," I turned and addressed the casket. "This was your best plan yet."

I stepped down, and signaled B.A. over. Murdock joined us, and with Kid, Jase, Jack, and a couple others we carried the now-closed casket outside. B.A. passed us the rifles, and Murdock counted the three of us off as we performed the gun salute. We folded up the flag, and I walked to give it to Dr. Sullivan.

She looked at it, tears in her eyes, and looked back up at me. "You need to take it," she whispered. "You're his family." I backed off at her words, bewildered and confused. I walked over to the Harmons, but neither Kid nor Jack would take it, both telling me that I needed to keep the flag, that I was part of Hannibal's family.

I stared down at the stars and stripes. Hannibal loved his country. He loved helping. Maybe the last 3 years had been down for him, unused to doing things the legal way, but he certainly lived a full life. I… I wanted a full life, too. What was I doing?

As I stared at the flag in my hands as the first shovel-full of dirt was thrown, I finally started to cry.

I found Murdock after the burial, standing near some trees. He was looking out over the cemetery, lost in thought, but he noticed me as I approached.

"Hannibal's right, Murdock," I said, coming to stand near him. "If we're not living helping others, then we're just as dead as he is."

He eyed me uncertainly, not sure where I was going with this.

I took a deep breath. "I need to get back up on my feet. Life isn't over, not yet. We have things to do, but we need to start with a firm foundation, only this time a completely legal, straight foundation."

"Face, what, what exactly are you saying?" Murdock directed.

I looked out at the tombs before facing Murdock again. "Is that acting contract still open?" I asked.

Murdock's face finally broke into the grin again. "It sure is, buddy," he said excitedly. "And it's got a solid paycheck in it, too."

"Good," I said. "Now, I like B.A.'s idea- he's got a start with those youth centers. What else can we do with cash like that to help others?"

"Oh, we'll have to talk to the big guy- I'm sure he's got some ideas. I'll go find him!" Murdock rushed off to track down B.A. and I chuckled, trailing after him. I stopped, and then turned around to face the newest tombstone, raising an imaginary drink.

"Long live the Jazz."

Fin.