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 FIVE: Face Front

Peck hesitated as he walked along the muddy path between supply huts. He shivered, noting the telltale movement to his left; someone was sneaking through the shadows. Peck ignored it, forcing away the feeling of impending doom that was clawing deep in his belly. He continued to walk.

It was dark; the tropical sun having fallen below the tree line in a blaze of dying red some three hours before. He did not know the whereabouts of the rest of the Team because he had been alone in the OC for the whole evening. Well, as alone as you can be with three pretty nurses ogling over you! Peck had enjoyed the attention, flirted mercilessly and been invited outside by one Major Suzanne Swan. He had almost succumbed to the raging urge in his groin to explore all of the Major's beautiful curves. How nice it would be to just escape everything into the wonder of a pretty girl but Peck knew it could never be – today was the last day of the week. Stepford would be calling; he had promised and Peck knew that if money was involved the big Sergeant would never no show! So the lieutenant had regretfully prised himself away from Suzanne, leaving her with a smile and a promise – it didn't hurt to keep those nurses on side particularly since he had the feeling he was about to be worked over pretty good and made his way outside.

As ever it was a close, hot night. The prattle of insects from the surrounding jungle was loud and annoying. Peck sighed. He did not have Stepford's money; he did not have much money at all, having, at the Colonel's suggestion, given the wages he had stolen back to Finlay. Over the past few days he had been too busy playing the role of soldier boy to have managed to pull off any sort of scam, let alone one that would net him enough profit. The Colonel had been particularly merciless with his training and Peck had found himself either up to his arms in mud and sweat or falling exhausted on to his bed in the hooch. Very soon he realized there was only one way he was going to pay off his debt, although it was not what he desired, he had resorted to such tactics before and for a few hours pain he figured it would be worth it to wipe the slate clean entirely. It suddenly seemed important to him to be able to do that. He wanted out of any debt, any malpractice, in fact anything that Colonel Smith could possibly find distasteful. All he had to do was survive the confrontation with Stepford and then he would be able to be what Smith wanted him to be. He accepted now that the Colonel was right, his only worry was that he actually had what it took to survive in the Team.

It had seemed like a good plan but now he was actually faced with doing it, Peck could feel his fear growing. The OC was behind, the boisterous voices drifted over the humid night air towards him. He threw a longing glance of a condemned man over his shoulder, wondering if he should take the Major up on her offer after all – if he was going to be shagged tonight he would much prefer the petite blonde to Stepford's hairy ass but he knew it was out of reach. He had to face this …. Breathe deep, slow the heart…. Get a grip!

As if sensing his disquiet as a weakness three dark figures eased on to the path in front of him. Peck gulped back his fear, continued to force his feet one in front of the other, walking neither fast nor slow but steadfastly to where they waited for him.

Stepford let out a grim chuckle. "Been looking for you, Peck," he rumbled.

"Ain't been hiding," Peck retorted, voice calm, regarding the massive sergeant bearing down on him and noted that the men who accompanied him were equally muscled. He sensed two other presences behind him, stepping up to cut off his escape.

"Got my money, prick?"

Peck snorted. "You know how it is," he began, figuring he should at least try to talk his way out of this even though he knew it was useless – hell, he had a reputation to think about! "I'm having a little cashflow difficulty as I explained on Tuesday. I will get it for you, Stepford, but it's gonna take time."

"Didn't appear to be short of cash, from what I hear – not when you were throwing it about to impress those nurses!" Stepford spat. "You ain't got no more time, Peck. I told you the deadline!"

"Look Stepford, I promise I'll get you it – what good is it gonna do hurting me? You got a lot of unresolved anger, you know. You should save it for Charlie – he's the enemy after all!"

Stepford snorted as anger rumbled through him. "For once your goddamn lying, arrogant mouth is right – I got resolved anger and I know just the little prick I'm gonna resolve it on!"

He raised his fist and advanced expecting Peck to try to run but the smaller man did not. Instead he held his ground and landed a punch right into Stepford's advancing guts. It was a good punch and Peck's power had certainly benefited from Smith's training but the big sergeant had spent a lifetime pumping iron and his stomach muscles were hard as granite. The punch stunned him but did not hurt enough to slow him. Peck let out a groan as Stepford was on him, pain crashing through his head as the blows rained and the goons grabbed him from behind.

The assault lasted only a few minutes but by its end Peck sagged, head bowed, being held up only by the goons flanking him on both sides. Stepford took a fistful of hair and roughly lifted his head. Blood was running lazily from the lieutenant's nose and his lip was split.

"You really shouldn't bother to fight me, Peck," Stepford said breathing heavily. "You know I will get what I want and it's only fair. You owe me. Get him ready for me!"

Peck struggled but his head was thumping, his vision blurring and his strength deserting him. The goons threw him to the floor, one held onto his shoulders as the other undid his trousers, pulling them brutally down to his ankles.

Breathe deep….slow the heart. Peck forced the mantra through his head. He hated this, hated the powerlessness but he knew he could survive it as long as he stayed calm, losing control would undo him utterly. He closed his eyes tightly, forcing away the sight of Stepford fully aroused and leering, coming towards him. Don't struggle, he told himself, don't fight, let it happen but don't let it touch you; keep control of yourself.

"You look ready for me, boy!" Stepford hissed. "But you're forgetting something. Open your eyes. I want to see them all wide and wild. I want to see them all the time I'm in you – don't you remember that's the rule?"

"Stepford, I…." The words were stopped by a hard cuff across the jaw. Resignedly Peck opened his eyes.

"Deep blue and scared as hell," Stepford breathed. "I like that; like to see the eyes of my whore. Now don't you dare close them again, Lieutenant."

Despite himself Peck shuddered as Stepford lowered himself roughly down on to him. "Now what have you got? Let's see if you can pay off the debt in one go, or will we have to repeat this performance later?"

Peck snorted, biting back the retort that came to his lips. He was past that now, better just to shut up and endure – fighting would just make it worse and give Stepford more satisfaction. "Just get on with it!" he snapped.

He waited for the punishing slap that would surely come but it did not. Instead a voice from some distance away penetrated his perception.

"That's enough, Stepford. Get off him now!"

The weight squashing his chest and grinding him into the dirt was suddenly lifted as the sergeant, muttering obscenities moved away, his hands raised.

"You OK, kid?"

It was the Colonel's voice and Peck groaned. Christ, not here, not now! The thought of Smith seeing him in this predicament was far more distressing than anything that Stepford had been about to do to him.

"Kid?" The voice, more urgent, came again.

Peck shook his head, trying to clear it. "Yes, Sir!" he replied finally as he scrambled up and into his trousers. He glanced around to see all four members of the Team were holding Stepford and his goons at bay with guns.

The Colonel smiled fondly as Peck gingerly fumbled with his trouser fastenings. Then he turned to the glowering sergeant. "Well, you got two options Stepford. I just watched you strike the lieutenant here – not very nice at all and as a Colonel I have no option but to put you on a charge; striking a superior officer." He shook his head. "Court martials are such bureaucratic affairs!"

Peck was trying to control the shuddering that was shocking through his veins as he dabbed doubtfully at his lip. He was having difficulty in standing but he did find enough strength to step away as Stepford lunged at him. "Ain't gonna court martial me!" the sergeant spat. "Little prick owes me!"

The Colonel laughed. "You got evidence, sergeant? Maybe an IOU or something, it's got to hold up in court!" His smile widened as Stepford's face fell. "Thought not!" he chortled. "So that leaves the second option."

Stepford snorted. "Which is?"

"So simple even you will not have difficulty understanding it! You walk away….simple as that. You've missed the sunset but if you try you could still make it look quite effective," Smith laughed.

"No way!" Stepford spat.

Smith shook his head. "Wrong answer, sleeze ball! Think about it; you could be going down for a long time, not to mention ruining your career. And for what?"

"He owes me!" Stepford tried to lurch forward again but Peck stepped behind the advancing Colonel.

"Not worth losing everything for though, is he?" The Colonel's voice was almost sympathetic. "Take my advice, mark it down to experience, learn from it…. Move on!" He hefted the pistol he carried absently. "He's out of your reach now, Stepford. For keeps. Best just to forget him!"

Stepford hesitated, licking his lips, his eyes flicking from Smith to Peck and back again. Finally his shoulders sagging slightly he said, "All right I can't touch him if you're gonna protect him, Colonel, but you have to know he's bad news. He's a cheat and a liar. You take him in and you might as well take a goddamn snake to your bed!"

Smith snorted. "I'll take my chances. Now take yours and get lost!"

Stepford stood for a minute. Then he pushed past Peck and hissed. "Some day you'll get what you deserve, prick and even the A Team won't be able to protect you; when you're lying there choking on your own bodily juices, dying painfully slow, listen cos you'll hear me laughing!" And then he and his goons were gone.

"Attention!" Smith ordered and the lieutenant snapped into position in front of him. "Well Peck, looks like we saved your ass again."

"Yes, Sir!"

"Want to tell me what all that was about?"

"No, Sir!"

Smith snorted. "I think its probably better I don't know. Still I got a good enough idea to know that it's gonna cost you, Lieutenant. Report to me at my office 0700 hours in the morning in full battle gear." He let out a contented laugh. "Man, am I going to enjoy tomorrow!"

Still chuckling Smith moved away. BA shaking his head turned towards the hooch and Ray followed, which left Murdock standing to Peck's left.

"You OK, Faceyman?" he asked, moving forwards.

Peck let out a long groan. "Feel like shit," he said. "Gonna get worse too!"

Unable to resist the consternation in those wide blue eyes Murdock threw an arm around his friend's shoulder. "Why'd you let Stepford do that to you?" he asked.

Peck shrugged. "Gotta get out of a tight spot," he whispered, not trusting his voice any louder. Man; he was shaking again!

Murdock tutted. "Not that way, Face. Never that way. Why didn't you talk to me? Talk to the Team? We'd have helped you."

"Sort it out myself," Peck muttered. "Always have!"

"But you don't need to do it on your own now. You got me, you got the Colonel and BA and Ray. We'll look after you."

"Shit, Murdock, I could have handled it," he groaned.

Murdock snorted. "Shit, Peck, you are an idiot!" he parroted but his voice was honeyed by affection. "You got to remember you're part of the Team now. You made a promise to me so you got to stay safe – don't want no book that's broken and torn."

Peck nodded slowly. His head dropped and Murdock thought the tears would flow but Peck was made of sterner stuff. As the pilot watched the kid pulled himself together, forced away the cringing child and took on the shape of the arrogant conman – it was an extraordinary performance and as if to underline his strength he shrugged off Murdock's arm to stand up straight.

"I remember," he said softly but firmly and the smile was suddenly there too, melting Murdock's heart anew.

"Good!" the pilot beamed. "You coming back now? There are some nasty people out here in the dark, you know."

Peck smiled. "No way, it's early. Come with me back to the OC."

Murdock pursed his lips. "Need I remind you of your hot date with the Colonel tomorrow morning, early?"

Peck raised his hands. "I don't want to hear it! To hell with tomorrow, let's have fun tonight!"

That night, for the first time in his life Peck allowed himself to drink so much that he was truly paralytic by the time Murdock half dragged; half carried him to his bed as the rising sun began to lighten the sky. He was still pretty far gone when an hour later he stood to a swaying attention in front of Colonel Smith. By lunchtime however and after five hours of quick marching around the camp perimeter in full battle gear in the tropical heat the excesses of the night before were just a hazy memory.

"Col'nel."

The young lieutenant's eyes sliced into Smith as the Colonel moved backwards slightly, allowing the stretcher to be eased off the chopper.

"Easy, kid," Hannibal whispered, his voice was not loud enough to hear above the ear shattering whirl of the rotors but Peck saw his lips move and understood. His pain-filled blue eyes had not left his commanding officer for the whole of the flight. Hannibal had hoped that the morphine from the medical kit that Murdock had bought along would have eased Peck's pain but the lieutenant seemed unable to relax into the stupor the drug offered him. Still his eyes remained stubbornly and desperately open, pleading noiselessly.

The Colonel, continuing to hold his man's limp, sweaty hand, stepped down from the helicopter and moved along side the gurney towards the waiting medical team.

"Col'nel," Peck repeated, licking his dry lips as his voice, now audible as they left the helicopter behind, grated with pain. "Don't let them send me away."

"Relax, kid," Smith reassured him. "No-one is taking you anywhere you don't want to go."

Peck tried to sit up but the nurse holding the IV gently forced him back onto the stretcher. "But….." he groaned weakly.

"No buts, kid," Smith smiled his most confident smile. "Just lay back and let these good people sort you out."

"I can't go, Colonel." Peck's voice was almost gone, his eyes trying to roll up into his head, maybe the morphine was belatedly kicking in but more likely the kid's remaining strength had seeped away through the evil wound in his belly. Smith bent lower to hear the desperate words. "I just can't ….."

"I don't expect you to. Now save your strength. You're nearly there. I'll be waiting for you right here, with the rest of the Team."

Even in his helpless condition, Peck managed to throw back his head so he could retain eye contact as the Colonel let go of his hand and stopped. Smith stood, a lone figure at the entrance to the theatre as the gurney rolled on away from him.

"Damn!" he breathed as the stretcher and the precious young man it carried disappeared through the flap, subsumed into the clinical world that lay beyond.

Smith took the cigar from his breast pocket and chewed on it. He was dirty and tired, covered not only with his own sweat and the dirt of the jungle but also a good deal of Peck's blood.

It had been a tough mission. A difficult plan to execute but his men had surpassed themselves, worked as a Team and performing magnificently. But even as Smith had allowed himself that first relieved breath that they had done it, his lieutenant had taken a bullet in his stomach as they retreated. It wasn't Peck's fault, it wasn't anybody's fault. Smith snorted as the beginnings of a headache pumped at the centre of his forehead. That was the luck of war; just when things were finally coming together, just when he had created the Team he could be proud of, a stray shot could ruin everything. All that work turning the wise-ass, overconfident grunt with the petrified kid hidden so deeply beneath into a half decent soldier could come to zero, could end on the cool operating table just a few yards from where Smith stood. It could be a world away for all the influence the Colonel had on it now. He had done his best, got the kid here still alive, now his powerlessness to do more irked him tremendously as it always did on these occasions. He hated it when he was not in control. He had lost too many good men; Peck was just the last name on a desolately long list.

Now all there was to do was wait, see if the fighter inside Peck had enough strength to win this particular battle……….

Lieutenant Peck had lost count of the number of times he had awoken in this place; the sharp smell of disinfectant smarting his nose first, followed by the low mumbling din of the other patients bringing him back to consciousness, to reality. He always kept his eyes closed, waiting until the rest of his senses were attuned, waiting until he had a picture of the surroundings in his head before he opened his eyes, before he let whoever watched him become aware that he was awake. It was something he always did before waking; just the process may give him the advantage that he needed.

This time, like every other time in this place, his body felt strangely numb. His throat was dry and he wanted to cough to clear it. He refused himself the luxury, would not reveal any weakness, not while he lay so vulnerable in the company of strangers. He forced himself to stay motionless again, focusing on the world outside him. He could here moans from a bed down the way and he could hear that pretty blonde nurse, what was her name – Carolyn, that's right, whispering encouragement. Somewhere wheels were revolving on the vinyl floor, one squeaking loudly but that was moving away. He waited still listening. Did he catch an intake of breath close by? And what about the smell, there was something different this day from all the other days. He tried to place it, pick it out from that awful raw disinfectant odour. Was it? Could it be? Just a slight waft of cigar smoke?

Caught off guard by the sudden unexpected rush of elation that the discovery brought, Peck opened his eyes.

"Hi kid! Nice to have you back – you had us all worried!" Hannibal's face was lit by its broadest smile. The cigar was clasped between his white teeth. "How do you feel?"

"Good," Peck groaned, although he was anything but.

"Well you're over the worst," the Colonel continued. "BA, Ray and Murdock have all been dropping in to see you. We've all been worried about you, kid."

Peck tried to pull himself up a little but found he had no strength. Smith stood up immediately and helped him to a sitting position. "They have?" Peck managed to articulate doubtfully. "I thought …." He let he sentence drift.

Smith eyed him as he sat down again. "You thought what?" he asked.

Peck snorted, he looked away to where Nurse Carolyn was making a bed. He noted the cute curvature of her bottom as she leaned over. "Nothing," he allowed his voice to sound distracted.

Smith's eyes followed his gaze, and he smiled once more. "She's been looking after you real good, Lieutenant," he said. "We made sure of it."

Peck looked back at him. "Why?" he asked.

"I reckon she's got quite a thing for you," Smith said, his eyes glinting lecherously.

Peck shook his head slightly, looking down. "No," he began. "I mean why did you make sure? Why have you been in to see me? I thought you'd all cut me adrift. I mean I screwed up."

Smith laid his hand over the top of Peck's on the rough blanket. "Kid," he began and then paused until Peck's eyes came back to meet his. "You didn't screw up. You did everything I asked of you out there. In fact I have to say I am mighty proud of you, of how you worked on things, of how far you've come."

Peck gulped, suddenly feeling foolishly happy. "But… I got shot. I blew it again!" he began.

Smith shook his head. "I think the time has come to change our relationship," he continued. "You're a proper soldier now. A credit to that green beret you wear and more than that you're a fully fledged member of my Team." He lifted his hand and offered it. "I think you deserve to call me Hannibal now, Faceman!"

Peck sat up, ignoring the weakness in his body and the flash of pain the movement brought. "Really?" he whispered.

Smith nodded as he clasped Peck's hand and shook it. "Really," he said trying to remain sombre but engulfed by the power of Peck's smile. The lieutenant was overcome by an ingenuous delight that he had never felt before, it lasted for only a few seconds of ecstasy however before old doubts kicked in and the smile faltered. "You don't want rid of me?" he said.

"No."

"When I woke up and you weren't here, I sorta thought that.."

Smith shook his head. "Give yourself a break for once, Face. Believe me, trust me, please."

"I don't understand," Peck admitted. "No one ever wanted me before, at least not for good things anyway." Smith felt his heart twist at the sudden sincerity in the kid's eyes. It was true; you tell somebody that they are crap often enough and they will believe it. Peck had spent a lifetime being told he was worthless by deed and word. He had compensated by building his walls high and strong – assuming rejection before it actually became a fact. His defences were so strong they would not allow him to see this was inclusion; this was membership of a very elusive club specifically for him.

"You've been in a lonely place, Face," Smith's voice was sweet with emotion that only the experience of a similar fate could bring. "It doesn't have to be that way any more. When you were wounded, when we brought you in, you pleaded with me not to send you away, well you have my word on it, Lieutenant – you're a valued member of my Team for as long as you want."

Emotions rushed across those perfect features and Smith had never seen the conman this affected, this out of control. He waited as Peck's head dropped forwards on to his chest, mesmerised and impressed as the young man fought to overcome the raw energy of his emotion and regain his composure. Finally with a long sigh Face lifted his head, his eyes were bright but moist, the only sign on his features of the crisis he had just overcome. "It was you, wasn't it?" he said simply.

It was Smith's turn to look bemused. "What was?" he asked genuinely puzzled.

"The kid you told me about in Korea in '52. The one that was all mouth, who needed to control everything, who couldn't trust anyone. It was you, wasn't it?"

"See, you're a bright cookie, Face," Hannibal beamed. "I knew you'd get it in the end."

Face's eyes twinkled. "One of the best soldiers in this man's army," he quoted, eyebrows arched in mock disbelief.

Hannibal nodded. "If you don't know your own value, how can you expect other people to?" he laughed.

"And you think I could be like you?"

"Why not?"

Peck looked unconvinced. "And this is supposed to be a good thing?" he continued, eyes bright with humour.

Ignoring the mockery Hannibal nodded. "You're very good at what you do, Face. Who knows you may even end up better than me!"

"You think?"

"You still got a lot to learn, and remember Face; it's about surviving not winning. Pace yourself – let the odd battle go to win the war." Peck still looked sceptical as the Colonel continued. "All right, let's stay in the bounds of reality here then. Almost as good as me!" Hannibal chuckled. "Once we get you fit again. Before that you've got a little R and R coming."

The smile on Peck's features froze. "R and R?" he repeated softly. "Away from here?"

"Hawaii, I hear."

"On my own?" Smith had the definite impression he was sentencing the lieutenant to an eternity burning in the very fires of hell rather than the treat every GI in Nam longed for.

Peck shivered, but schooled his face back into his bland expression. "You'll still be here when I get back?" he asked.

The Colonel snorted in frustration. "Of course we will! In the meantime you go enjoy yourself, Lieutenant. That's an order!"

Peck nodded slowly and smiled his most confident smile while pushing his concerns away. He knew he could not reveal to the Colonel his fears or the fact that he didn't want to go to Hawaii; hell, he didn't want to go anywhere but here. It was too stupid to think let alone tell, but this damn hellhole in the middle of a foreign country with enemies desperate to blow him away both inside and outside the wire was the nearest that Lieutenant Templeton Peck had ever come to calling a place home in his whole life.

He would go on R and R, he would survive it but every day he was away he would long to come back here, back to the Team.

TBC