THIS IS IT. THIS IS THE LAST CHAPTER … unless you beg for more. ;)
But seriously. Do you know what a big deal this is to me? Like … I've never finished a fanfic that had chapters before. Like, … what a huge deal!
So, DISCLAIMER: I don't own the guys, and I'm not sure if I disclaimed that yet. So now I have, and I again beg YOU to rethink how you think about Frankie if you hate him. I love him, and if you were willing, you could see just how great he is. :)
#GiveFrankieaChance
Anyway, ONWARDS! TO THE FINAL INSTALLMENT! The moment you've all been waiting for! (thx for all the reviews, I love you guys, this is for you … and partly for me, and kinda for Frankie, but let's not let that ruin the moment.)
Man, Frankie hated dumpsters. Since the day he'd been coerced into betraying and then joining the A-Team, he'd found himself waking up in two different dumpsters (when it happened wasn't important, but he was sick of it), and now here he was, climbing into one all on his own.
Well, it's not like he had a choice. Oozy would be mad when he found Frankie gone, and Nasally on the floor (Frankie did wonder if he'd hit the man harder than necessary, but not having had that sort of experience, he just refused to think about it), so he had to find a way to hide.
They would assume that he'd hidden, and so he'd shoved one of his shoes into the chain link fence, to make it look like it had gotten stuck there, and he threw the other one over, so it would look like he'd climbed away. They probably wouldn't fall for it, but it was literally all he could think of doing. He wasn't a green beret, for cryin' out loud! He didn't really know how to fight! He knew how to make bombs and cool movie effects, but how was that useful in a fistfight?
Speaking of fights, something was definitely happening outside. There was a lot of shouting, and there was definitely a fair amount of gunshots. He wondered if it was the rest of the guys, finally having found him, mounting a rescue … No. He didn't want to risk checking. They'd find him.
He sighed, shifting in the garbage before grunting in pain. "Now I need a whole new outfit." He commented irritatedly, since he was pretty sure he'd never even be wearing the socks again, even though one of them was perfectly fine (the other one was soaked through, and he'd thrown that shoe over the fence with relish). A small amount of light filtered in, showing just enough of what he was sitting on to make him gag, and he wondered how much the men at the warehouse had been eating in the past few weeks. ... He could certainly tell what they'd been eating.
Frankie wasn't sure how long he'd just sat there in the stinky shadows, before he shifted again, and felt something hard jab into his hip. "What the-" He moved away from the thing, wondering why the stupid garbage couldn't have included an old mattress, or a worn out pillow. He was so tired.
And bored. The shouting and shooting outside had ended rather abruptly, and now there were no sounds around him. … Well, there were flies, but he was studiously attempting to ignore those sounds, despite his burning desire to kill every single one of them.
His eyes flicked around, comfortable with the dark, and he spotted a dark box in the spot he'd moved from. It must have been what he'd shifted into earlier. He stared at it as he thought about the team, and just how useless he was to them. All he ever seemed to be able to do was get them into more trouble than they were already in, and it made him want to just give up and let himself be taken to the dump with the rest of the trash around him.
Frankie then pulled his thoughts deliberately out of that rut, deciding that he'd just have to try even harder, since Stockwell didn't really give him much choice when it came to leaving. At least his dad was set. Frankie couldn't imagine having to watch his own father be thrown onto the streets, especially after all of the hard work that the man had done to keep him in a home all of his childhood. In a way, Stockwell had saved him from having to worry about his old man anymore, but at what cost? The A-Team's safety and trust?
Hannibal seemed okay with him, but he wondered if it was just because he felt responsible somehow for Frankie being on the team … maybe. BA didn't seem to like him, … but again, did the burly sergeant really like anyone? Face was still a big question mark, and that left Frankie with only one friend. Murdock. The pilot hadn't trusted him at first, but Santana decided that if smearing mud on his face and becoming a––what was it––a Blackhawk Commando was what it required to gain the madman's friendship, it was worth it. … The man was still pretty loopy though, so whether or not he saw Frankie as anything more than a useful acquaintance was debatable, as was the question of whether or not he was useful at all ...
Frankie sighed, absently reaching for the box that he'd been staring at, then lifting it into his lap to open, for lack of anything better to do. He was surprised by it's weight and sturdiness, contrasting immediately with the cardboard boxes that shared the dumpster with them. He opened it slowly, and caught his breath.
It was a bomb.
As soon as Face got out of the car, he could see that Hannibal was fine, and Murdock limped over with a grin from his place near the entrance. "Faceman, you changed your eye color!"
Face was suddenly very glad that he'd been with BA instead of Murdock again. Hannibal was forcing a man (the only one left alive) to his feet, and the con-man's eyebrows went up. "Ricci?"
"I thought we put that suckah in jail." BA came up behind him, and Face nodded in agreement.
"Well, he got out, and he's the one who invited us." Hannibal replied, then was cut off before he could finish.
"Where's Frankie?!" BA asked instantly, stalking towards the mob boss, his eyebrows drawing together.
"Oh yeah, he murdered some guy an' ran off!" Murdock immediately began to walk towards the side hall, and Face assumed that it was where Frankie had "ran off" from.
"He wouldn't have made it very far." Ricci's laugh stopped the pilot in his tracks. "This is going to be everyone's grave before you find where he undoubtably hid himself."
"Eh- what's he talkin' about, Hannibal?" Face didn't like the man's confidence, despite the fact that he was definitely in a worse position.
"He put a bomb somewhere around here." Hannibal said. "We have roughly nine minutes before it goes off."
Face was very aware that he wasn't the only one when he spoke. "Damn." He didn't know if it was Murdock or BA that had joined him though.
"Okay, Hades!" Murdock limped forward with a tense stride, snatching a gun out of a dead hand to point at Ricci on his way. "I'm revolting, I don't wanna be a devil no more, an' I'm gonna send you straight home if you don't say where you put that boom-box!"
"I will say nothing." Ricci grinned. "You may kill me if you like, or you may save yourselves, but your comrade is doomed, just as he was from the beginning. It is not as though he was really a member of your team from the begin-"
"SHUT UP, SUCKAH." BA ended the man's diatribe with a forceful crack from his bejeweled fist.
"An' when an angel says ta shut up, he means it." Murdock spoke acidly.
"I-I will not tell you where the- … where the bomb is." Ricci took pleasure in BA's anger, while Hannibal's sharp look prevented the sergeant from decking him. "I had planned on … killing you all, but breaking you will be- … be far better a reward."
"Permission to send Hades home, colonel?" Murdock asked it innocently enough, but his eyes were on fire.
"Not if I send 'im there first!" BA growled, and Hannibal shook his head, pistol-whipping Ricci into unconsciousness before he replied.
"We gotta find Frank."
"Where'd they keep him?" Face was ready to start, wanting to hurry and get out of there, having already calculated that their nine minutes had turned into eight, not to mention the fact that Shaaron's information would eventually bring the law around.
"In the back room, but he escaped from somewhere in here!" Murdock could still run on his leg, so the blood running down it was likely only a flesh wound. The rest of them followed him into the side hall, and up ahead, they could see a pair of feet sticking out of what was obviously the bathroom.
"Looks like he really did kill Ricci Senior." Hannibal's voice held no remorse as they came upon the scene, finding the flabby man's body with a lot of blood pooling around the head.
"With a window." Face observed. "He must have climbed out." The con-man didn't like the bloody handprint on the wall, and the old dried blood drops in the sink and on the toilet-seat. A moment later, they were following Murdock again as the pilot sprinted up out of the garage, climbing the steep hill to the lightening day outside faster than the rest of them could follow.
Around the corner, they found the open window from the other side, and all of them pointedly didn't comment on the amount of blood in the area. With Murdock still in the lead, they followed the trail of blood, and found that it ended at the fence, where a shoe was lodged between the chain-links, and another shoe was on it's side across from them. "We only have five minutes left." Face observed quietly, and BA growled immediately, making the con-man edge away.
"Dere ain't no way he crossed dis fence."
"Big Burly BA is right." Murdock agreed, and Face was about to voice his own affirmation of their words when he noticed that Hannibal wasn't with them.
"I think I found 'im, guys."
Face agreed as soon as he saw the very obvious handprint on the dumpster, and Murdock must have thought similarly, since he spoke, "Frankie's not very good at hide-an'-seek. We should teach 'im." Then the pilot grabbed the lid and opened it wide.
They all stared at what was inside.
"He's asleep." Murdock whispered it, and Face could hear the worry in his tone as he then leaned over, poking Frankie in the cheek before freezing. "And he's got the bomb."
"What?!" Face went to look, but Murdock beat him to it, lifting a black box out, and revealing a torn wire.
"He followed the Nighthawk Commando rule number 47: disarm all bombs that did not come from you."
"He disarmed it?!" BA took the bomb, incredulous.
"Frank was trained in demolitions for special effects." Hannibal explained, then, "BA, help me get him out."
Face watched as they carefully lifted him out, and winced sympathetically when he really got a good look at Frankie for the first time.
"Permission to send Hades home?" Murdock asked again, his voice quivering.
"Firs' I gotta beat 'home' outta him." BA muttered, and Hannibal shook his head.
"I'll worry about that scuzzball. You guys get Frank outta here." The Colonel held up a hand against all of their protests. "That's an order."
Face exchanged a look with the others, then nodded. Murdock spoke out loud. "Oki-doki, Colonel. We'll get him outta here."
"Here's his keys, if his tires survived that firefight." Face held them out, and Hannibal took them with a nod, lighting up what the con-man identified as a victory cigar. "And the police will be here any minute, so hurry up your goodbyes."
"Okay, guys." Hannibal grinned around the cigar, looking more like himself than he had all night. "Let's go."
Frankie woke up slowly, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he wasn't in a dumpster. The less pleasant surprise was that he was in a hospital bed. "What the-" He muttered, thinking back to the bomb. He'd disarmed it, then he'd finally fallen asleep … or had he passed out. He still felt pretty tired, but he didn't hurt so much anymore.
He looked at his cleanly bandaged hand, and figured that the weight on both his knee and his head were other pristine bandages. … Someone must have found him. The rest of the guys? Was that too much to hope for?
Frank didn't know how long it had been since he woke up, but he was just dozing off again when a nurse walked in. She smiled pleasantly at him as she settled a tray down next to his bed. "How are you feeling, Mr. Santana? I'm your day nurse, Nora."
"Frankie, please, and I'm feeling much better." He grinned at her, and felt the bandage at his ear pull oddly when he did it. When was the last time he'd smiled?
"That's wonderful! I brought you your lunch, and there are some visitors outside!" She smiled brightly. "I'll show them in!"
It couldn't have been anyone else but the guys, and Frankie found his smile growing bigger. Maybe they had been the ones to find him, which was oddly relieving. "Okay."
"Try to eat as much as you can." Nora warned. "You need to get your strength back. You lost a lot of blood."
"And a nice outfit." He muttered after she closed the door, then felt his smile return when Murdock limped in. "Where were you guys?!"
"Buying milk." Face followed, and Frankie was hard pressed not to stare at the double black eyes on the lieutenant.
"We were chasing you down and sending Hades back home!" Murdock chipped in while BA just grunted.
"We found you in the dumpster this morning." Face explained, "We'd just barely learned about the bomb, and when we went looking for you, we didn't expect to find it too."
"Yeah, I guess they figured people would be less willing to look through trash." Frankie agreed amiably. He wasn't quite sure where he stood with them (if he could stand), but he became less sure when Hannibal walked in.
"How're ya feelin', Frank?"
"Like I lost my favorite shirt." Frankie replied. "The vest was pretty nice too, and those shoes were expensive."
"You talkin' crazy, man!" BA seemed incredulous. "You almost died!"
For a moment, no one spoke, waiting for his answer. "But I didn't, cuz you guys saved me." Frankie finally said, then continued in a rush before he lost his nerve. "An' I'm sorry that I got caught. It's my fault that you guys were up all night chasin' me … I mean, if I had known how to really fight those guys off, or if I had figured out how to escape sooner-"
"Frank." Hannibal stopped him with his own name, and it felt powerful coming out of the colonel's lips, demanding his immediate silence. "It wasn't your fault."
"Those mean, ugly mud suckers had it in for us for ages." Murdock leaned forward. "'Sides, you took one out, and you disarmed the bomb, following Nighthawk Commando rule number 23: Disarm any bomb that doesn't originate with oneself."
"I thought it was rule number 47." Face said after a moment of the ensuing silence.
"Are you a Nighthawk Commando, Faceman?" Murdock gave the con-man a distinctly snobby look. "'Cause if you ain't then how could you know?"
"You said 47 earlier, foo'!" BA agreed with Face.
"But Murdock's the one who would know." Frankie said, and Face groaned.
"You're siding with him?!"
"Why would he side with you, Face? You broke his car." Hannibal stirred the pot, and Frankie barely even realized that he was one of the ingredients as he sat straight up with a shout,
"You what?!"
"Well, now we're even, and we did it to save you anyway!" Face parried, looking to BA for support. The sergeant shrugged and said,
"You da one who had his spare key, Face."
"I don't have a spare key." Frankie was so confused, but luckily Murdock was glad to explain.
"He borrows your car for dates, cuz you broke his, an' it's still in the shop."
"What the crap, man?"
"You did ruin mine, remember?"
"I told you how to fix it!"
"Jus' like you told me to cook my gold?!"
"You used the wrong-"
"I did try tannin' butter, and lemme tell you, it tasted like-"
"Like you know how to fix a car!"
"I do know how to-"
"You gonna be the one who gets fixed-"
"But my jacket didn't like it either, he said it tasted like-"
"All you do is break-"
"At least I-"
Hannibal watched as the four of them continued talking over each other, and silently kept time, waiting for the nurse to come rushing in to stop the wave of activity. "I love it when a team comes together."
"Then as payment, you can get me a new shirt!"
Well. That's it. That ended far differently than I had planned, but I liked it.
So. … It's over. … That's really final, and I suppose now I should ask you to review and tell me if this made you like Frankie better, or if you still hate him religiously, and why.
Regardless of whether or not you hate him, I like him, and I think he adds a fun dynamic to the team that's all his own. Amy and Tawnia (izzat how you spell it? I never liked her so much) do the same, but I like Frankie's special something the most.
His advice kills me every time I watch "Dishpan Man" and see him seem so knowledgable, only to discover that he doesn't know a thing. :) It's great. (The part where he drops the guy down the elevator shaft is the best, and he's like, "I told them how to fix this just last week", and you know that's why the elevator is still broken …
Anyway. I hope that you enjoyed this story, because I did, and I'm glad I can finally say that it's complete. If you feel like you want me to add something, or that I portrayed any characters wrong, just lemme know.
Until later,
C y'all,
-Al
