Warnings/Content: Contains male/male SLASH. 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 Two
The following day Face waited in the parking lot of the care home for Amy Allen to show. He had agreed with her as they left the restaurant the night before that he would take the day off and have a break from visiting the home but he had slipped into his usual schedule when he woke up without thinking and had found himself at the home regardless of his promise.
So he waited, hating the times when he had nothing to do but wait, wait and think because that was when the memories came back bringing with them the bite of bitterness and guilt.
He remembered how it had been. How it had felt to be at the top of his game, to be needed, valued, trusted and the loss of such a position was a physical pain to him. How he longed to feel such intensity, such heat again.
When Hannibal had been in control things had been so easy and Face would have given anything, everything for his Colonel but it had all fallen apart so quickly when Hannibal began to lose his grip. Looking back the signs had been there, as their luck changed – suddenly plans did not work out and the required adjustments were too hard to make. Hannibal seemed to lose focus at critical times, forget what was going on, became confused and panicked. With their leader strangely fallible the rest of the Team began to lose trust in themselves and each other. Face guessed that's what growing old was all about – things no longer came easily, the slick Team was suddenly disjointed and imperfect.
They tried, Lord they tried, but something magical had been lost and remained elusively out of their grasp. There were still good times too it was true, like the day they finally received their pardons and the ensuing media frenzy. Face had loved being the celebratory he had always dreamed of. He did Oprah and Letterman; he gave everyone the piece of him that they demanded. There was talk of a book, a TV series and even a movie. Face had believed it, allowing himself to be engulfed by the wonder of it all, becoming the bright eyed naïve boy he had hidden so deeply following the horrors of Nam. He had wanted it so badly, had glimpsed tantalising touches of it through his life that to have himself thrust into it so deeply made him lose all sense of self preservation. It made it so much more difficult for him to recover his balance when the bubble finally burst.
He did not know when it happened, could not pinpoint exactly the moment but slowly it dawned on him that nothing he was being promised was being delivered, book deals fell through, people did not return his calls, the press no longer stalked him, he couldn't get a table in exclusive restaurants… and the final straw was when he heard the rumour the suits had decided his character would be played by a girl in the upcoming film. How could Faceman be a girl! Everything had gone cold and stale. Nobody wanted him anymore.
Seeing his pain and knowing its source, Murdock had offered to write the real story with his friend but by then it was too late, fantasy had been shattered by cold reality. Deep down inside of Peck the cynical conman had laughed bitterly and pushing to the surface with the words 'I told you so' had forced the kid away forever.
It was not so for the other Team members for they had not embraced the media adulation like Peck. Hannibal particularly, had become increasingly withdrawn; he did not seem to want his pardon and never formally accepted it. It was as if the wily old Colonel saw the truth – legitimacy changed things irrevocably. And with the realisation Hannibal appeared to lose even more of his focus. No one said he had given up, no one would voice such disloyalty but with the benefit of hindsight, Face could see that was exactly what he had done. And Peck did not blame his mentor one little bit; in fact he quite envied the old soldier his release for worse was to come.
It was the summer of 1987 and taking their A Team earnings plus the pay off from the Government they received on their pardons, Peck invested heavily in the soaring stock market. The bitterness that gnawed at him following the loss of his fame enflamed him and made him bold; he played the margins with not only his but also the rest of the Team's money, loving the power and ignoring the risks until Monday 19 October dawned and Peck was brutally reminded of his fallibility once more. On Black Monday the Dow Jones plummeted 508 points, losing 22.6 of its total value and along with many others Peck lost everything.
The rest of the Team did not blame him outright. They mumbled platitudes about still having their army pensions, about being comfortable anyway and needing to find work but Peck sensed the hostility, saw the coldness in their eyes when they looked on him whether it was truly there or not and vilified himself with his failure. Hannibal was not well enough to pull them back together at that time and so they finally fell apart. No more missions, no togetherness and no future; they went their separate ways, still keeping in touch but acquaintances more than friends. And to add to Peck's guilt was the reality that his greed and selfishness had accomplished what so many villains and slimeballs had failed to achieve – he had destroyed the A Team!
It was only right that since it was all his fault, Peck should be the one who took on the onerous task of looking after the increasingly infirmed Colonel. The years of responsibility and stress had finally taken their toll and Smith was suddenly an old man. His body seemed frail and weak but his mind was of more concern, his forgetfulness changed to confusion and he was diagnosed as being in the throes of dementia. Peck remembered the feeling of complete hopelessness when the doctor had told him. How could it be? Not the great Hannibal Smith; surely it was a big horrible mistake.
But it was not and the Colonel's behaviour became increasingly difficult and bizarre as he slipped into the chasm of senility. Face did all he could, while trying to hold down a full time job selling real estate out in the suburbs, getting slowly more scared and desperate as everything he held dear slid away. BA and Murdock helped out too but they had made other lives for themselves – BA at the Day Centre and Murdock with his business.
Money was tight and Peck's pride would not allow him to ask for help and so he struggled on. Once he had found Hannibal wandering on the freeway in the middle of the night, barking orders to imaginary men. The temptation of a scam just to help out with the medical bills and to allow Face the chance to give up his job so he could care for the Colonel full time was too much for him to resist. He had met a rich old widow through work who seemed to take a shine to him, invited him around to her mansion, and doted over him. It all spiralled out of control after that; what he meant to be a quick liaison for cash turned into something more dangerous when she changed her will and told her family she was going to marry him. They were suitably outraged and the resulting court case had left Peck emotionally, financially and physically shattered, not to mention with a suspended sentence hanging over him for three years. The authorities removed Hannibal from his 'undesirable care' to the nursing home.
It had been a stupid risk that he should not have entertained but it was something Peck would have pulled off with ease in his youth. The fact that it had lost control and ended so catastrophically only served to worsen his depression and plunge his confidence to an even lower ebb. He had promised himself he would never attempt anything like it again but with that promise came the horrifying realisation that if he could not do that, there was nothing that he could do! Old insecurities long since pressed away to the dark recesses of his mind began to reassert themselves and develop unchecked.
So now he spent his days watching over Hannibal, acquiescing completely to the old soldier's demands and trying not to remember what had once been but time like this, when he thought on it, gave the bitterness chance to emerge.
Gratefully he got out of his car as Amy pulled into the lot. As she moved towards him she cast a curious glance past him to his car – a conservative little hatchback from Japan or was it Korea? He could never find the heart to care; Corvette it certainly was not. Her eyes moved back to him, taking note of his denim shirt and jeans, just a little too faded and certainly not designer labelled. She said nothing but smiled warmly.
"I thought you were having a day off," she said finally as he stood uncertainly before her.
He shrugged disarmingly. "Couldn't think of anything else to do," he muttered. "Besides Hannibal wanted more cigars." He showed her the box of expensive Havanas he carried.
"I'm surprised they let him have them in here," Amy responded.
His smile was wide with just a hint of the confidence that had once oozed from it. "They don't but it's about the only scam I can pull off now. Shall we go in?"
"Not the best lieutenant I had, no sir," Hannibal drawled. "That was Smudge Marks. He was class and I miss him." Amy glanced over to Face who shrugged as if he had heard the criticism many times and simply accepted it. The gesture was lost on the Colonel who continued. "Need to whip this one into shape. He tries but…" he leaned closer towards Amy and spoke in a grating stage whisper, "I don't think he's got the capacity! Now Smudge Marks he was more than capable, downright talented in fact!"
Amy felt herself flush and tried to think of a change of subject that would deflect the Colonel from this unjustified attack that Peck seemed unwilling to defend himself against. "It's a warm day, maybe we should go outside for some air," she settled on finally.
Smith growled. "Not you, lieutenant. The nice lady has come to see me and we don't want you sniffing round her. Besides you got plenty of work to do here, and rest assured I will be checking. Latrines need digging… get to it!"
They left Peck standing somewhat awkwardly in the lounge area and went out into the warm sunshine. Amy had difficulty pushing the wheelchair out through the door but Hannibal offered no help or advise. By the time they had meandered their way along the stoned path to sit beside the ornamental pond Amy was sweating profusely and feeling shattered.
"You're pretty hard on him," she said as she bent to apply the chair's brake.
"He needs it!" Hannibal replied. "Gotta push him or he'll slack. He's a slacker you see." He shook his head morosely. "Conman too; tried to scam a poor old lady out of her savings. Shouldn't have had him in the army; should be in prison!"
"Hannibal you're not in the army now and you shouldn't go around repeating gossip. Face is here because he wants to be, he wants to look after you. He's not your lieutenant any more."
Blue eyes that had been almost dead suddenly sparked towards her. "He is and he always will be," his voice had lost its aggression and seemed infinitely sad. "I promised him that. Kid needed looking after, he could never manage on his own." Hannibal gulped and Amy stared at him, hoping that the new spark would linger but when his eyes came back to hers they were dulled once more.
His gnarled hands began to fiddle impotently at the cigar box that Face had given him and had lain forgotten on the old soldier's knee. Amy leaned forward and opened it for him and gave him a cigar. If he was annoyed at his inability to accomplish such a mundane task, he gave no sign. "Got a light, miss?" he asked instead.
"No, I don't smoke," Amy replied.
"Pity. Looks like that goddamn lieutenant has let me down again!" He swivelled stiffly in his chair to glance back over his shoulder the way they had come. "Where the hell is he? Peck? Peck!"
"Shush," Amy chided. "You're disturbing the duck!"
"Ought to shoot the bastard!" Hannibal muttered.
Unsure whether he was talking about Face or the bird that was quacking tunelessly as it paddled on the pond before them, Amy decided not to enquire further. She was alarmed at the Colonel's mental deterioration and the way it manifested itself in his attitude to Face. She now realised the cause of the sadness that hovered over the younger man like a dark rain cloud; to be forced to watch his beloved Colonel falter and to be able to give no aid; no wonder Peck was hurting. Amy felt a rush of frustration for she could see no way she could help the situation.
As if sensing her disquiet, Hannibal's eyes were warm again as they sought hers. "I'm looking after him," he mumbled. "I got it all sorted. No need to worry!"
"But I do, Hannibal. He's not coping, he's not….."
"Peck!" Smith's voice cut across her. "Peck!"
She saw Face exit the door they had come out of previously and jog towards them. "Light!" Hannibal demanded as he stopped before them. Peck nodded and complied. Smith took a long, deep draw, leaned back and closed his eyes. "Nice," he breathed out along with a cloud of smoke.
"Is he like this all the time?" Amy whispered, stepping away a little and pulling Peck with her.
He sighed. "He has his moments," he replied dully.
"But you shouldn't have to put up with it, Face!"
"Why not? He doesn't mean anything by it, he gets confused that's all. Besides its no worse than I suffered in boot camp – I can take it."
"You're not in the army anymore, Face!"
He shook his head. "But Hannibal thinks he is and if it makes him happy, what does it matter?"
"It matters because it doesn't make you happy!"
"Still here, Peck?" Hannibal's eyes were open and icy once more. "Nothing to do eh? I'll soon sort that out."
Face sighed, his eyes meeting Amy's questioning ones. "Everything that was good in my life came because of Hannibal," he hissed. "He was the only one who trusted me, the only one that gave me a chance and stood by me when I fucked up. I'm not giving up on him, not now."
"But…."
"Not ever!"
"You have to help, Murdock!" Amy pleaded.
The pilot snorted, then pushed past her to continue his examination of the plane in front of them. "I've done all I can, Amy."
"But you should see how he is, how he treats Face. It's not right."
"Face is a big boy, he knows how to look after himself. He knows he could walk away."
"But he won't will he? You know how he feels about Hannibal."
Murdock sighed. "I know. And I know this is something Faceman has to do."
Amy fixed him with a suspicious stare. "This has nothing to do with losing your money has it? Some sort of punishment?" She did not know the details of what had happened in '87 but she sure as hell had sensed the fallout from it.
Murdock shook his head violently. "Money was never important!" he snapped.
"Then help please," Amy was aware her voice had a pathetic pleading ring but she was getting desperate. "Cos it's killing him."
The lanky pilot turned back to her then. "No," he said firmly. "In fact it's giving him something to live for. You know what really frightens me? What chills me to the core? What happens when Hannibal is gone? How the hell is Face gonna cope with that?"
"That's why we need to help him now!"
"Don't you think I've tried? BA too? Face is one stubborn sucker. And he's running scared. Hannibal's condition has forced him to look over the parapets of the walls he's been hiding behind for years. And you know what he's seen? Nothing! Just a whole lot of nothing." He shook his head sadly. "You run away from commitment too often and it gives up on you."
"But there must be something we can do."
"I'm all out of ideas, Amy," he sighed despondently again. They were silent for a while. Amy smothered her smile as the pilot finally continued "I'm free tomorrow afternoon. How about I pop down to talk to Hannibal. See if I can get him to lay off Facey a little?"
"That would be good – I have to get back home tonight. And you'll talk to Face?"
"Won't do any good."
"Please try, HM."
Murdock raised his hands in surrender. "OK, muchacho. But don't forget Face feels more indebted to Hannibal than the rest of us and while we don't bear him any ill will over the money fiasco, he sure as hell won't forgive himself." He whistled through his teeth. "Oh Faceyman is one complex guy," he said wistfully. "Guess that's why we love him so!"
TBC