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The Red Bee Hums
Mother's Day, in B.A. Baracus' opinion, was a miserable day to be stuck on deployment to Iraq. Thanks to the magic of "Facey Boy," as Murdock had recently dubbed him, the burly corporal had at least gotten to speak with his mama. The conversation had to be cut short due to static in the line, but better a crappy call than going to bed without hearing her loving voice.
He had stopped by the motor pool for a few hours to tinker with some projects he had going for the team's next mission, and when he left there his emotions were back to an even keel… or so he thought until he got nearer to their tent/HQ and heard the (unfortunately) familiar singing of Murdock.
Sighing with frustration, he was about to offer his customary threats of dismemberment when a hand came from behind and grabbed his arm. He overcame the urge to snap the offending appendage at the wrist by a hair's breadth because who would really be so stupid as to attempt to take a Special Forces soldier by surprise?
He turned and glared into the ocean blue eyes of Lieutenant Templeton Peck. Facey Boy, himself. "What the hell man? You trying to get your fool ass arm broke or something?"
Face gestured for B.A. to keep quiet and pulled him backwards into the shadow of the tent. Curiosity briefly overcame the need to kick his friend's ass, so he allowed himself to be pulled.
Peck poked his head around the canvas, ostensibly to make certain the wacky pilot was still there strumming his guitar and singing another one of his crazy songs. Seemingly satisfied with whatever he found, he once again met the angry stare of the team's mechanical wizard.
B.A. made a "well-I'm-waiting-and-this-had-better-be-good-or-I -am-gonna-put-Bengay-in-your-underwear-again" gesture that made Face cringe briefly before spitting out the reason for the detainment.
"Look, I just need you to lay off Murdock today okay?"
The large black man looked at his teammate for a moment, waiting for the rest of the explanation. When it didn't come he crossed his arms and glared menacingly.
That did the trick.
Templeton sighed and appeared as if he wanted to be anywhere else but where he was, (or at least in anyone else's company). "It's just… he's been down today and I think he's missing his mom."
If he was expecting sympathy for the team psycho, he was about to be majorly disappointed. B.A. growled, "So what, man. He ain't the only guy stuck over here who's missing his mama. Help the fool get a call out to her just like you did for me."
Peck stared at him as if he'd grown a second head, but he'd had enough of this little tête-à-tête. He stuck his finger in Temp's face for emphasis as he continued, "And let him know that if I see one freaking sock puppet or hear him sing one stupid ass kiddie song, he's gonna be in a world of hurt!"
He turned to head back to where he'd been going before Face volunteered him for this chat. He stopped when he heard the lieutenant tell him, "His mom died when he was five."
Bosco's insides clinched, and he couldn't help but picture his mama's smiling face as she helped him with his homework or sat by his bedside when he was sick.
It hit him with the force of a dump truck - Murdock and Face were orphans, and he'd done nothing but bemoan being away from his mother and having to make do with a substandard phone call to the states. He was a selfish asshole.
Chocolate-brown eyes again met crystal blue, but this time there was only understanding and remorse in the dark depths. Face nodded at what he found in the big guys expression and sauntered off, seemingly content with the fact that both his best friend's body and feelings would be spared today.
Instead of going to lay on his cot for awhile, as he'd been planning, Bosco made his way over toward the grill area. Murdock was still sitting on one of the patio chairs, strumming his guitar and singing to be what sounded like a lullaby. He briefly looked up and smiled as B.A. picked up a wrench and began working on his motorcycle.
He supposed he should probably offer some kind of comfort, but words weren't really his thing. The best he could do was provide companionship. It wasn't the kind of touchy-feely goodness that Face or Murdock would opt for, but who the hell cared? He never claimed to be like Dr. Phil anyway.
As the sun began to set, Murdock let himself be soothed by the warm presence of one of his closest friends while B.A. felt a calm overcome his previous homesickness.
And right beside him, James "Howlin' Mad" Murdock's mother was watching the scene and smiling as she continued singing the lullaby into her son's ear… the very same song she used to sing him to sleep with as a baby.
"Sleep, oh babe, for the red bee hums
The silent twilight's fall
Aoibheall from the gray rock comes
To wrap the world in thrall
A leanbhín ó, my child, my joy
My love and heart's desire
The crickets sing you lullaby
Beside the dying fire."
The Gartan's Mother Lullaby (Seosamh MacCathmhaoil )
End
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