Author's Note: This chapter is all about Facey, Facey, Facey. And the grand entrance of our favorite pilot. :)
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Hannibal walked into the Mess Hall, pouring himself a cup of coffee and looking around, trying to find Peck.
Hannibal finally located him sitting at a table, and walked over.
"Hey," Hannibal said, sitting next to Peck. "Mind if I sit with you?"
Hannibal didn't miss the soft, nearly covered up growl as the kid looked up at him.
"I'd be miserable company," Peck said, sipping his coffee and looking Hannibal in the eye.
Honesty. Good trait, Hannibal thought as he sipped some of his own coffee. "Misery loves company."
The kid gave a low, humorless chuckle. "Look around. Does anybody else seem to want to be around me?"
Hannibal had already noticed that the other recruits had been avoiding the kid, and some were sending sympathetic looks towards him.
"If you haven't noticed, I'm not everyone, kid." Hannibal said. "So. What's it like to be in Heller's Unit?"
Peck took another sip of his drink, then scrutinized Hannibal, as if wondering what to make of him. "As if you really cared." Hannibal leaned forward. "Kid, you don't want to mess with me. I asked you a question. Answer it."
Peck paused, scrutinising Hannibal again, then shrugged. "I've been in worse."
"Such as?"
"You know what? This conversation is over," said Peck as he stood, leaving his coffee on the table. "I'm leaving."
"You don't really have a choice in the matter, Private," Hannibal said, emphasizing the younger man's rank to remind him that he was in command. "Sit down."
"No, Sir." Peck spat as he began to walk towards the exit of the tent.
Hannibal stood up and stalked over to him, grabbing the younger man's shoulder. "I just gave you an order, Private."
"Don't touch me," Peck said in a low, dangerous growl. He pivoted on his heel and brought his boot into Hannibal's shin, causing the Lieutenant to fall onto his knee.
By now, the whole tent was watching the faceoff between the Lieutenant and the Private.
Hannibal easily rolled to the side, then jumped to his feet. He roundhoused the Private's face, or, at any rate, almost did. The Private dodged the kick and brought his fist into Hannibal's stomach- until Hannibal blocked the hit and twisted Peck's arm behind his back.
Hannibal shoved Peck face-first into a table, causing a slight wince to come from the Private.
"You never, ever attack a higher officer!" Hannibal growled into Peck's ear as he slammed the Private's face into the table again.
"Do I look like I care?" Peck growled from the table.
"Well, you'd better start caring!" Hannibal yelled at him. "Hurting people doesn't get you anywhere in life!"
"Tell that to Heller," Peck growled.
Hannibal was slightly taken aback by this statement, and he released enough pressure from Peck's arm for the Private to slither free and bolt for the exit.
Hannibal watched as Peck ran, and knew that the Private wasn't just running from himself .
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Peck ran long and hard, not caring where his feet took him. He had a great sense of direction and could find his way back easily enough- if he ever decided to come back.
Memories clouded his mind, and most likely his judgement. Foster parents beating him, forcing him beyond the breaking point. Heller was one of them.
"Hurting people doesn't get you anywhere in life!"
Anybody he trusted turned on him, anyone he didn't trust beat him to a pulp. What was the point of life, anyway?
Peck was so preoccupied in his thoughts that he didn't realize he ran into a man until he was laying on the ground, half on top of the poor guy.
The guy gave him a crazed smile. "Heyya."
"Uhh... hi," the Private said, rolling off the man and hurriedly standing up, a bit embarrassed.
The man stood up and smiled, offering Peck his hand. "I'm Murdock."
Peck took it, feeling oddly... comfortable around him. "Peck."
The first thing that the Private noticed in Murdock was that he wasn't in fatigues. He was wearing a red Hawaiian shirt and khakis. The second thing he noticed was the greasy, unkept blonde hair wasn't short enough for the standard Army haircut. The third thing the private noticed was that Murdock was barefoot.
"They let me wear this because I'm a helicopter pilot," Murdock said, as if reading his thoughts. "And some say I'm insane. But no matter, let's take a walk, shall we?"
Neither of those were good excuses, at least to a lot of COs. He mush have an exceptionally patient and understanding one. Peck was thoroughly puzzled by Murdock, but followed him anyway.
Murdock smiled again. "What's troublin' ya?"
The private shrugged.
"Ah. Don't talk much, do ya, laddie?" Murdock said, changing from a Texan accent to a Scottish one. "Ah have a feeling that ye would, given for someone to hear ye."
Peck bit his tounge, not sure whether to confide in this crazy pilot or not. "I donno. Everything's so messed up."
Murdock kept silent, waiting for Peck to go on.
"I'm one of Heller's recruits," the Private finally said. "What he does- sleep deprivation, starvation, and pushing us to our limit- it reminds me of my childhood."
"How long've you been in there?" He asked.
Peck rubbed my face. "A couple of days? A week? I donno."
Murdock gritted his teeth."You got a looooong ways to go, brother. 'Course, it really depends on whether ya decide to bow 'r not, and how strong ya are. Longest I've ever seen someone last is a month, and even then, he disappeared. Committed suicide."
"Wait, what?" Peck asked. "Who was he?"
"Private by the name of Kendig. He was as stubborn as a mule, didn't break to Heller, didn't even show signs of it. Whenever he was allowed to see other recruits, no matter how battered he was, he would crack jokes about it. Had the toughest hide that I've ever seen yet. One day, he disappeared and shot himself on the obstacle course." Murdock shrugged. "Everythin' was suspicious, ya know? He had everything to live for, why kill himself?"
Peck shivered. "Sometimes people can hide their emotions all too well."
Murdock turned to the private. "This comin' from personal experience?"
Peck bit his lip. "I really need to get to my quarters."
Murdock nodded. "Alright, buddy. If you ever need anybody to talk to, I'll be here... unless I'm off on a flight. Or running from a big, angry mudsucker."
"What?"
"Ah, nevermind," Murdock said with a smile. "You just get back t' your barracks."
The Private nodded to Murdock, then jogged off, alone with his thoughts again.