Title: Crash Into Strength

Summary: A plane crash leads to misunderstandings and greater understandings for the team.

Warnings: Descriptions of character injury

Note: Lia sent me the story idea (thanks Lia!) with the basic guidelines and I took it from there. It was a lot of fun to write this way!

Chapter 2

Hannibal and Murdock sat in stunned silence trying to process what had just happened.

Finally Hannibal looked at Murdock and asked, "You okay?"

"Not since 1968," Murdock joked weakly. "I think I busted my wrist. How 'bout you...you okay?"

"A few bruised ribs," Hannibal grimaced running his hands up and down his waist. "But nothing broken."

"Fool crashed the plane!" B.A. started yelling. "Fool crashed the plane!"

"From the sound of B.A., I'd say they're okay back there," Hannibal stated. "Hey B.A., put a lid on it would ya? Face, undo the man!" He yelled back, his injured ribs preventing him from turning around.

Face could hear people yelling, but it sounded far away and muted. His head felt heavy and there was a painful throbbing sensation working in rhythm with his pulse. He opened his eyes and tried to figure out where he was and why he hurt so badly. He could see that he was on a plane, but had no recollection of how he got there. He turned his head slightly and saw a livid looking B.A. struggling to get out of his restraints. Well, he actually saw a few B.A.'s among a myriad of dancing spots.

Face blinked his eyes in an effort to clear his vision and decided to try and sit up. He propped himself up on his elbows and attempted to lean forward when the pain stopped him dead in his tracks. He gasped, wrapping his arms around his waist. Face panted, trying to slow his breathing. Once the pain had dissipated a bit, he rolled onto his side, grabbed onto a seat and pulled himself up.

"You better undo me…or else!" B.A.'s threat fell upon deaf ears. Face could hear muffled sound, but was unable to understand what he was saying. The cabin was spinning around him; he felt as if the ground were moving beneath his feet. Beads of sweat formed on his forehead as he started to amble around aimlessly trying to get his bearings.

B.A. was still screaming threats at the men when Hannibal and Murdock emerged from the cockpit a few minutes later. "For crying out loud, Face! Stop wandering around and untie B.A. already!"

Face struggled to hear what the colonel was saying to him. He was able to make out most of the words, but it sounded like he was on a phone with bad reception. He tried to respond, but his brain and mouth didn't seem to be connected. Before he had an opportunity to try again, the two men exited the plane.

Confused and disoriented, Face walked slowly toward B.A. He could tell that they had been in a plane crash, but everything else was fuzzy. The con-man was also in a considerable amount of discomfort. It felt as if he had been hit by a truck. But it wasn't a truck that hit him, it was a plane. Or rather, it was he who had hit the plane.

By the time Face reached B.A.'s side he was working on auto pilot. He had a pounding headache, but at least the pain in his abdomen had lessened to a dull ache. His years as a soldier had taught him to push-away his pain and focus on the task at hand. He sat down and got to work on the ropes securing B.A.'s jewel encrusted hands. He fumbled with the knots willing his fingers to cooperate.

B.A. had had enough. He had been drugged, tied up, and forced on a plane…a plane crashed by that fool Murdock. And now Faceman was taking his sweet old time in setting him free. Even more infuriating was that Face sat there expressionless and hadn't said a word since the crash. 'He's messin' with me,' B.A. thought. 'He's movin' real slow on purpose…as if he don't care."

Face was looking intently at the ropes in his hands trying to make his double vision go away. Unfortunately, the more he stared, the more his head hurt. And the more his head hurt the dizzier he became. He had only managed to loosen one of the bonds before becoming extremely lightheaded. Face leaned back into the seat next to B.A. and tried to slow his breathing.

B.A. wiggled his hands free and looked over at Face who still had that impassive appearance. "What is wrong with you, man?" he questioned. "If you're trying to piss me off sucker, it's working!"

Face tried to shake his head 'no', but the slight movement made his stomach churn and he thought he might be sick. He had no choice but to look straight ahead and try to breathe through the nausea. Unfortunately, his lack of response only infuriated B.A. more.

"Nobody ignores B.A. Baracus!" he snarled hauling back and unleashing his pent up rage with his fist. Face's eyes bulged as B.A.'s massive fist connected with his already abused torso. B.A. got up and exited the plane leaving his friend doubled over and groaning in agony. Unable to catch his breath, he began gasping for air. He lowered himself to the floor on hands and knees where he promptly emptied the contents of his stomach.