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 4

"Did Faceman go all the way back to Brazil to get that wood?" B.A. scoffed, as he checked the batteries on their emergency lanterns.

Hannibal sat on a tree stump, cigar in mouth, and hands busy checking the state of their weapon and ammunition supply. If there was one thing he had learned since being on the run, is that there was no such thing as being too prepared. He could see Murdock pacing back and forth, without doubt worrying about Face.

"Murdock, you really should be resting," he said. "I'm sure Face is fine."

"I don't know Colonel," Murdock said adjusting his cap with his good arm, "I have a bad feeling that something's not right."

"Yeah, and that something is your brain!" B.A. quipped. "Now why don't you sit down before you fall down, fool."

Murdock stood still for a moment trying to figure out his next move. "I'm going to go look for him." He looked over at Hannibal as if waiting for approval.

Hannibal nodded his head but said, "If that's what you want to do, go ahead. But tell Lieutenant Peck to high-tail it back here…it'll be dark within the hour."

Murdock saluted Hannibal and then did an about face into the trees. Hannibal couldn't help but grin. He knew Murdock was mocking him for referring to Face as "Lieutenant Peck". Using such formalities was his way of informing his team that he was reaching the end of his rope. And right now, Face was hanging onto that rope by a thread!

"Here Facey, Facey Facey! Murdock called out scanning the foliage to his right and left as he went.

"Here Facey, Facey, Fa…oh no!" He gasped as he spotted the blonde, shirtless man slumped against a tree, his head drooped to one side. He could feel his heart beating faster as he approached his friend and saw the blood stained shirt tied around his leg. He dropped to his knees and put his fingers to Face's neck feeling for a pulse. He let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding when he felt the faint pounding under his finger tips.

"Hang in there, pal." He encouraged, unsure if Face could hear him or not. "I'm going to go get some help." Murdock tucked his bad arm against his side and ran back to camp as fast as his legs would carry him. By the time he reached Hannibal and B.A. he was so winded that he could barely speak.

"Face…Face…is hurt…looks bad." He said breathlessly. Both Hannibal and B.A. sat for a moment in shocked silence before the meaning of Murdock's words hit them and they sprung into action.

"Murdock, grab the first aid kit," Hannibal directed. "B.A., it's getting dark, grab a couple of those lanterns." Any anger from the past few days was forgotten as they followed Murdock into the woods and toward their injured teammate.

The round trip into the woods took just under an hour. As far as the trio could tell based upon Hannibal's quick exam, Face had sustained a few broken ribs in addition to the deep thigh laceration. After replacing the shirt wrapped around Face's leg with a fresh bandage, they decided that the best thing to do would be to get back to the camp they had set up. With Hannibal and Murdock each holding a lantern to light the way, B.A. scooped Face up in his arms. Face's head rested against the muscular man's chest and his arms fell limply to the sides.

When they reached their campsite, B.A. gently placed Face down on a blanket. He clasped his hands together and lifted his arms overhead to stretch out his fatigued muscles.

"Damn Hannibal," B.A. said as he rolled his shoulders backward in circular motions. "Faceman didn't stir once."

Hannibal ran a gloved hand over his chin as he was crouched down next to his second in command. "I know…and that's what has me worried."

Murdock had gone back to pacing again. "What's the plan now, Colonel? How're we going to get Face out of here?" Looking over at B.A. still trying to work out the kinks, he added, "B.A. can't carry him the whole way."

B.A. stood still and was deadly serious when he said, "Can if I have to."

Hannibal felt his heart swell with pride. He had no doubt his sergeant would carry Face if need be, but he had another idea. "I think what we need is a travois."

"A trav-what?" B.A. and Murdock asked simultaneously. Hannibal grinned as the two looked at each other; B.A. appalled that they had shared the same thought, and Murdock elated by it.

"Travois," Hannibal repeated. "It's like a stretcher that you drag on the ground. The Native Americans used to use them to transport goods…except a dog or horse would do the pulling."

"Billy would be happy to volunteer his services." Murdock put forward.

B.A. shot the pilot a frustrated look, "Shut up, fool…we ain't got time for your crazy jibber-jabber."

"Thanks for the offer, but Face may be a bit too heavy for a dog." Murdock nodded his understanding as Hannibal cleared his throat and looked at B.A. "And seeing that we don't exactly have a horse, we'll have to use the second best thing to do the pulling."

"No problem man." B.A. agreed. "I don't assume you have one of those tra…whatever-you-call-it handy?" Hannibal shook his head no and B.A. started looking around for some possible materials.

"Can I help? Can I, can I, can I?" Murdock begged.

"Can you help?" B.A. exclaimed. "You got a broken wrist, fool!"

"But I got one that still works! Please B.A.? Pretty please with milk on top!" Murdock pleaded.

"Milk on top?" Hannibal questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"B.A. likes milk," Murdock explained, as if it should make perfect sense.

'I know I'm gonna regret this,' B.A. thought. He could tell that Murdock was just trying to keep busy so he could take his mind off of Face for a while. He put his hand on Murdock's back and gently pushed him forward with a warning, "Okay, but don't get in my way or your wrist won't be the only thing that's broken."