Warnings/Content: Contains male/male SLASH plus torture and non consensual. Also some full-bodied soldier type language. Adult themes are discussed here and relationships between men. If you don't like the thought of it please do not read. I do not wish to offend.

PART THREE: Advance

"Get out the chopper, Lieutenant!"

"I can't, Sir!" Just speaking was difficult; his muscles would not move to his command.

The Colonel leaned in closer so the power of his anger would not be lost under the ear splitting throb of the rotors. "That's an order, Peck!" he screamed. "Get out and find cover now!"

Peck gulped shaking his head stubbornly. He had known this would happen, had tried to tell both the Colonel and Murdock the night before but had been unable to admit his weakness. It was one thing to put his body through the physical bashing Smith had forced on him, in a way he had enjoyed that challenge, the fact that he had had to push himself, couldn't hide in his old lazy ways. But this was different. This was the other side of the wire. This was out there!

He had begun to shiver even as they had walked to the chopper that morning. He had felt the fear deep within, crystallising far down in his gut but slowly, oh so slowly beginning to shatter outwards to claim his body. He had tried to explain again when he realised that Murdock was to be their pilot. Tried to get him alone but Murdock was preoccupied with the checks, mind already flying the mission and then the Colonel had called him in.

He sat quietly, eyes down to the floor, hands grasping his gun so tightly that they were pale as porcelain below the dirt. Across from him Ray and BA had muttered and beside him the Colonel had sung softly. But as the flight had progressed and the fear enslaved him he had lost all perception of what was around him. He couldn't fight it, didn't know how, as all of his senses shut down until he sat motionless, his body rigid and brittle as ice.

He had not even realised that the chopper had landed, was unaware that BA and Ray had already exited. He only came back to a world coloured by the intensity of his panic when the Colonel grabbed him and tried to heave him out of the chopper forcibly. Then the shaking took over so strongly that his teeth were chattering and his bowels lurched making him sure he would soil himself.

He looked up into the thunderous face of his commanding officer. He wanted to do what the Colonel was asking but he just could not. He closed his eyes unable to hold the questioning stare, waiting for the torrent of abuse that he knew would come, knew that he deserved!

But instead he felt the Colonel's strong hands push him back roughly into the seat. Then the hands were gone. The change in noise of the rotors that occurred some time later he barely heard and he never felt the lift as the chopper took off. He sat where his Colonel had placed him, eyes tight shut both to keep out the world and to keep in the tears that threatened to escape from his heart.

He had failed before but never had he felt this overwhelming despair. He knew suddenly it came from the fact that he had never cared before who he let down in the past. This time he just could not forget the look of complete betrayal he had seen in Colonel Smith's eyes and he knew he never would.

Miserable, petrified and so very much alone, he curled up in the back of the helicopter as his soul shrivelled.

Peck slowly came around feeling the touch of a hand gently stroking his arm.

"Faceyman," the familiar voice purred. "Come back to me, baby. Gotta get you out of my chopper. Gotta get you some place where you feel safe."

'Faceyman'. Only one person called him that.

Murdock had explained it all to him when they were alone one day. When the Colonel had described him to the rest of the team he had said 'Face like an angel but….' And when Murdock had finally met him he had seen how well the description fit. To the rest of the Team he was 'Peck' or simply 'Kid' since he hadn't earned the respect of a nickname that would come after they'd seen him in action the other side of the wire. Peck had subdued the shiver that disclosure had brought him; he didn't like to think what names they would call him after they saw just what he was capable of beyond the wire! But Murdock was determined to treat him differently and, as 'Face like an angel but" was a little long and sounded like a character from the Range Rider TV series, at which point Murdock had got slightly sidetracked discussing the merits of said programme, he had finally decided simply on 'Faceman' or some derivative thereof.

Peck had whined and moaned and generally appeared less than happy but Murdock had ignored him. The name had stuck between the two of them and Peck had been happier and more touched by the intimacy of the moment than he cared to think about.

With a groan Peck opened his eyes. It hurt. In fact everything hurt and he realised his body was taunt, stretched, every muscle rigid as if it were about to break.

"Ease off, Faceyman," Murdock's voice came again. "You gotta relax. Let go of the gun."

He looked down to see his hands clutching at the rifle in front of him. Rifle…. Gun …. Fight. It all came rushing back to him then; the fright, the fear and the betrayal. Smith's eyes.

"Oh shit," he breathed as he not only let go of the gun he forcibly pushed it away as if the thing was suddenly too hot to hold.

"That's good, kid," Murdock murmured. "Now let's get you home."

Murdock was still here? Murdock still wanted to help him even after he knew his shame? That was strange!

He gulped, allowed the pilot's hands to gently lift him, prise him from the seat where his commanding officer had put him. He found himself standing on shaky legs, walking, the world a blur that past him by until he found himself sitting on softness. The heavy clothes that had stuck uncomfortably to his body with his own sweat were being removed and his boots. He felt light as they moved again.

"Murdock?" His voice was hoarse, weak, powerless.

"Right here, Facey. Just gonna get you in the shower. Get rid of the grime. Careful here it's real slippery. That's right, you're doing good, real good. Now get ready, water's gonna be so cold…"

Peck grasped as the refreshing river rolled over his tired muscles. He shivered and would have fallen but for Murdock's strong arms holding him up. "Easy there. Deep breaths. Just relax kid."

Blinded and deafened by the water all Peck could sense was Murdock's presence. Vague images of other times, some happy, some painful spent in such an embrace fluttered through his tortured mind. His body knew how to react to this stimulus, knew how to escape the fear that haunted him. It had done so many times before, was doing it now but his mind was different. His mind could not escape the despairing fog that had engulfed it, could not think nor plan, knew nothing save the impending doom that would take him soon. So he clung to Murdock with all the desperation of a lost soul, nuzzling into the other man's neck, searching blindly for a sanctuary his mind knew did not exist.

Murdock held Peck tightly, his own mind in turmoil. He felt the kid's erection where it throbbed into his thigh. He felt the urge to move to it. Wasn't this living the dream he had been enjoying for weeks? He'd wanted the kid the first time he'd set eyes on him, felt that telltale squirm in his belly as the angel had fixed him with those stunning blue eyes and beguiled him with that perfect smile – the man should come with a warning of the power of that weapon! It had been lust pure and simple. Murdock had done some digging, found out the kid's reputation and knew he would probably be up for it. Oh, how part of the pilot wished he had acted on it there and then. But he had hesitated, followed Hannibal's orders and decided to get to know the kid. In doing so had sealed his own fate. Wasn't just lust anymore, was something a whole lot more powerful and something truly terrifying.

So what to do now? Act on his lust; squash the seedling that was their germinating friendship under foot? Kid was ripe and ready, probably wouldn't even remember it in the morning. And after today's little performance he was going to have a hell of a lot more to worry about than what the pilot did to him in the shower.

Murdock drew in a deep breath, looked at the angelic face below him, eyes tightly shut, wide red mouth slightly pouting, strong jaw…..

And that was just it wasn't it? Kid was in deep trouble now; needed a friend more than ever, more than a cheap screw in a cold shower that was for sure. He bent forwards, mouth aching to touch, his hand running up Peck's willing body, coming to rest on his cheek, stroking the soft skin there. The kid sensed it too, wasn't he moving, adjusting his weight slightly, pursing his lips, waiting….. Kid knew the score all right. He may look like one but Peck certainly was no angel. Murdock licked his own lips; the sense of potential rapture was so strong it was almost a living thing between them.

And that in the end was what stopped the pilot. The sudden insight that if it could feel this good in this place at this time, how good would it feel in the proper place at the right time? The thought hit him hard as a freight train, causing him to gulp back his passion, close his mouth, and stand up straight.

"Relax, Faceman," he breathed. "It's gonna be all right."

And at his words Peck's eyes opened, wide not with pain or fear but with gratitude. After an instant he nodded slightly, looked down, and hugged deep into the pilot's rangy body. They stayed there for long minutes, each one revelling in the simple close contact of another being and then Murdock pulled the rope that stopped the water. He grabbed a towel and wrapped Peck in it. After he had rubbed himself dry he sat next to the lieutenant on the step. The blonde head hung limply forwards, shoulders stooped and as he sat down Murdock heard the weak voice mutter, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"Shush, Faceyman," he said, unsure what the kid was referring to.

Those eyes came up to his again, this time wide in desperation as they stared at him. "I really blew it this time," he whispered. "I should have told you all." He looked down at his hands, squeezed them guiltily. "Never could. I'm not a soldier."

Unable to stop himself Murdock threw supportive arms around those contrite shoulders. "Don't worry. Colonel will sort it, he always does."

Peck groaned despondently, but his voice was stronger. He seemed to be returning from the numb place he had been since the aborted mission. "You didn't see his eyes, Murdock. I let him down big."

"I saw them when he told me to bring you back here and look after you. He may play the big heavy but that's only cos he has to; Hannibal cares about you. We all do, is that so hard to accept?"

Peck gulped. "Why would anyone care about me?" he asked.

The genuine puzzlement in the kid's tone caused Murdock's heart to go cold. "Facey," he said softly. "You gotta understand, the Colonel, he's a leader, he looks into men's hearts and he sees …. things! I don't know cos I'm not him but I do know that in all the time I've known him he's never been wrong about any soldier." He shook his head violently. "No sir, he ain't never wrong."

"Always a first time," Peck mused. "Disappointment I can deliver right on time!"

"Nope, not this time buddy, Colonel won't let you fail!"

Peck let out a long sigh of resignation. "I appreciate your support, Murdock," he said. "But even the Colonel can't make a soldier out of a snivelling piece of jello who pisses his pants every time he goes outside the wire. It's not gonna happen." He gently pulled away from the comfort and security of the embrace and stood up. "Guess I better go pack my stuff."

"Face, at least wait until Hannibal gets back. He'll have a plan!" Murdock stood up, took a step towards the other man, his towel falling to the ground.

Peck smirked, his eyes going down Murdock's all too ready body. "You're a beautiful man, HM," he said. "I wouldn't have stopped you in the shower, you know."

Murdock nodded. "I know. Wasn't right not here, not now. You mean more to me than that, Faceman."

Peck sighed, his smirk maturing to his fully fledged killer smile on full power. "I don't like to be obliged to anyone but for you I'll make an exception. Name your time and place, Murdoch, I owe you that much."

Murdock nodded again, biting his lip as emotion rushed through him. "That's a promise I'll keep you to some day, Templeton Peck!"

Peck just smiled, shrugged his shoulders and left. The instant his smile was gone Murdock sensed the temperature drop by a good five degrees!

Murdock stood on the threshold of the Colonel's office waiting until his eyes adjusted to the meagre light coming from the desk lamp. He saw Smith sitting behind the desk and cleared his throat. The silver head lifted.

"Come in, Captain," Hannibal said.

"Colonel," Murdock lowered his head in respect. "You look tired, Sir. Isn't it time you got some sleep?"

Smith nodded. "I'll sleep after we've got this taken care of. He with you?"

Murdock nodded. "Outside, like you ordered."

Hannibal leaned forwards and Murdock noted the whiskey and two glasses on the desk for the first time. The Colonel poured the rich brown liquid slowly, careful not to spill a drop and then passed it to the pilot who accepted it silently.

Hannibal shook his head. "It was going so well. I thought he was beginning to respond, beginning to trust us. Procurement is certainly not a problem, he's getting fitter, even his whining has got more positive. So what the hell went wrong today?"

Murdock took a long slug of whiskey. Felt its warmth burn all the way down to his stomach. "It's like he's got to be an extreme," he began softly. "Like to begin with he wouldn't talk to a soul, then suddenly he started scamming. Then he went overboard the other way, BA and Ray made me talk to him to get him to stop!" He paused, pursed his lips realising he was rambling but the point was important enough to make that he knew he should carry on. "Reckon we've got to teach him what its like to be in the centre, away from the black and the white, in the whole lot of grey in the middle like the rest of us. Until he sees that he's just gonna hover from one extreme to the other, angel to devil, good to bad, ultra confident to scared little kid."

Hannibal sighed and refilled both glasses. "It's not his fault, Murdock. I've read his file and it does seem like he's never had a chance, never seen a good example to learn from. He had to pick it up as he went along, you learn like that and you're gonna pick up bad habits. The army should have cured him of his vices, should have pointed him in the right direction. That it hasn't proves he's one stubborn kid. And after today's escapade I just don't know. I must admit I suspected something like it but I thought we could help him through it. I have never seen anybody that bad." He paused and then added in such a quiet voice that Murdock was unsure whether he was supposed to hear. "Well maybe once."

Forcing away his curiosity at the Colonel's statement, Murdock focused on the case in point. "There's something in him worth the trouble Colonel. I know it and you do too. It's hidden well deep but it's there."

Smith fixed him with his uncompromising stare. "Are you sure that's not just your lust talking, Captain?"

Murdock flushed, suddenly feeling over warm in the confines of the office. He knew the Colonel knew about him. They had come to an understanding some time ago and it had never been mentioned again not until now. But it was a possibility they had to consider. He smiled tightly. "No Sir! He's a cute little thing and I don't say that I haven't been tempted but even if it is my excuse, it's not what you saw. And you chose him for the Team not me." He took another swig of the scotch. "It's like we just have to find a way to get what you saw out. Maybe it's only a tiny weenie little spark now but we have to find a way to make it into a huge great flame."

"You really think?" Smith took a cigar from the box on his desk.

Slowly Murdock leaned back, swirling the contents in his glass and watching the blend of colours reflected there. "Extremes, Colonel," he repeated softly. "Right now the kid's at the wrong end of the soldier scale but we both know, given the right effort he could finish up at the other end."

Smith sucked on his cigar for a while. "We need to find the key. Build on that."

They were silent for a while and Murdock remembered that Peck was waiting outside, trying desperately to look nonchalant while the little boy inside him must be screaming in consternation. Visions of the kid flashed through his mind. He remembered the killer smile but also the vulnerability in the shower, the glower of hatred as he stared out from a muddy face struggling to finish a training exercise and the grin of triumph as he presented the pilot only a couple of days ago with a special edition comic book supposedly only available back home. Lord; that feeling of burning desire in his deepest being was back. He had had him so close and been strong enough to push him away. Now Murdock knew, no matter what he couldn't allow Hannibal to send Peck away. They had to keep him here. But how to do that? Suddenly the beginnings of a plan formed in the pilot's mind. "Didn't you say he wasn't a bad shot?" he said, his calmness belying the rush of hope that suddenly crashed through him.

Hannibal nodded. "From what I can tell that's about the only thing he didn't fake on his training scores."

"Then we've got something to work on!"

The Colonel rolled his eyes and smiled. "I see where you're coming from and I like it Murdock, I like it! Go bring him in."

"You want me to come back with him?" Murdock asked.

"No," Hannibal shook his head. "I reckon this little interview should just be between the two of us. Kid's been through enough today. Let's make it as painless as possible for all of us."

Murdock nodded with relief, slammed down the rest of his drink and turned to leave.

Minutes later Peck stood to attention before his commanding officer. He could feel the apprehension deep in the pit of his belly but he breathed deeply, forcing it down, telling himself he didn't care. Didn't care whether he stayed or went. He would survive this; he would find a way to compensate. Winning was not important, enduring that's what counted, just existing, so you could fight another day.

"Lieutenant Peck," Hannibal began.

"Sir!"

"I think we had a little problem today."

"Sir!"

"Captain Murdock and myself have been discussing how we might progress from here."

"Sir!"

"Stand easy." Peck complied, the gulping of his throat the only sign of the emotion that was rushing through him. "Murdock informs me you have been packing your things. Why?"

Peck licked his lips, hesitated. "I … I.."

"Spit it out soldier," Smith's voice was kind.

"As you know Sir, the truth is not always as important as it should be to me. I'm not honest very often," Peck confessed, his words were measured and unusually pensive. "But maybe I owe you that much at least."

Smith rolled his eyes. "From you I would accept that as an honour, Lieutenant."

Peck sighed, narrowing his eyes as he tried to ascertain whether the Colonel was being ironic with him or not. Again he was frustrated to realise he could not read the Colonel's purpose. Uncomfortable with the prospect, he nevertheless forced himself to continue. "There is no place for cowards in the Special Forces." He was fighting to keep the emotion from his voice. "And especially not in your Team, Sir!"

"And that is what you are?"

"Yes Sir!"

Smith shook his head. "What makes you think that, Peck?"

A look of real pain escaped and flashed across the lieutenant's face. His eyes were wide pleading for a second and then he gulped again, took hold of himself. Did he not deserve this? Well he maybe could not control himself in a war but sure as hell he could in this situation. Disciplinary interview with his commanding officer, he had been here before, many times. Experience had shown him that he could endure this, may even thrive if he could just keep his cool and string along a line. Be humble, play to the Colonel's vanity. "I'm not a soldier, Sir, not like you. I don't do Teams very well and I can't fight. I can do all the other things you require of me but not those. And after all they're the reasons we're all here."

"Would you agree with me that cowards don't have balls, Lieutenant?"

Peck nodded. "Yes, Sir!"

"I think it takes balls to have the nerve to change your grades in Special Forces training. I don't think a coward would have the nerve to do that. Or how about engineering a brawl in a crowded bar?"

"That's different, Sir."

"In what way, Lieutenant?"

Peck shrugged, looked away from Smith's gaze, trying to hold on to his composure. "Does it really matter? I didn't hack it. Do we really have to dissect my failure, like some second grade biology lesson?" he snapped.

"Yes, it matters because we need to find a way to help you with your problem. Everybody is scared the other side of the wire, only an imbecile wouldn't be. I don't want imbeciles on my Team."

It suddenly dawned on Peck where this conversation was leading. "You're not sending me away?" he asked tentatively.

"Why the hell should I do that?"

"Because three times I've gone out there to be a soldier and three times I've crapped my pants. Why will it be different on the fourth, the fifth or the hundredth and fifth?"

Smith shrugged. "And running away is going to solve that particular problem? I don't think so. I've been a soldier for a long time and I know there is only one way to help you through this - we're gonna work on it, kid. You're part of my Team – the best Team - and we don't give up on each other."

Peck shook his head. "I don't understand. I'm useless, why should you put your butt on the line for me? I'm a liability. It makes no sense."

"Let's just say you remind me of a kid I knew back in Korea in '52, all wise talk, tough acting but scared shitless too."

"And?"

"Turned into one of the best damn soldiers in this man's army." The Colonel leaned back into his chair.

"And you think…. that I ….?" Peck found himself suddenly lost for words, an unfamiliar feeling which he did not find particularly comfortable.

"Yeah I do." The Colonel's eyes were wide with honesty. "This isn't about what happened today outside the wire, well not entirely anyway. I know that deep inside of you is a fighter, kid. Maybe you just haven't found the right person to bring it out in a positive way; you've certainly used it to your own advantage in the past. You lack commitment to anything but yourself, maybe that fault has come from the way the rest of the world has treated you, not from your own flaws. You're had it rough kid, I know, but you've found ways to survive." Smith paused for a long second, eyes spearing the younger man's. "Do you know what your deepest fear is kid?"

Peck shook his head slowly, uneasy with the way this conversation was moving into uncharted territory and turning into a clinical analysis session of his inner thoughts and fears. He tried not to think about them and he was mystified as to why Smith should be so interested.

But the Colonel carried on relentlessly. "I think it's not that you think you're inadequate. I think you fear that you may succeed at something, something that benefits the rest of the world not just yourself. I think you're scared you may find you're not the failure you think you are but that you may actually have some value, some positive reason for being here. I think it's the light inside you not the darkness that frightens you most; the possibility that you may find a place in my Team, a place where you are cherished, where you have worth. Experience has shown you that you are going to be rejected, so you reject everything first. Well I'm not going to send you away; I'm not going to reject you. I'm gonna give you the chance to shine, Lieutenant cos I think you have qualities that you don't even know you've got!"

Peck smiled ruefully. "You are one goddamn, crazy son of a bitch!" he murmured.

"Crazy maybe, but you're not arguing with me!" The Colonel was smiling again. "So are we gonna do this thing or not? Teach you how to change your fear to something positive. Teach you to shine. Teach you about the jazz? Are you going to commit to me and my Team?"

Peck held the older man's gaze and suddenly felt safe in the confidence he saw in those deep eyes, safer than he ever had in his life before. No one had ever spoken to him in such a way. No one had ever taken the time to see behind his façade before. Peck felt suddenly and powerfully special. "Yes Sir!" he snapped back to attention.

Smith beamed. "Then tomorrow, as my Supplies Officer, I want you to go out and procure the best damn sniper rifle you can find."

Peck rolled his eyes. "Why?"

Smith smirked fondly. "That's 'Why Sir?' to you, Peck! And instead of asking stupid questions just follow orders for once!"

Peck smiled. "Yes, Sir!"

"Now get out and let me finish this damn paperwork so I can get some shut-eye."

TBC