52 Conclusion

AN: This marks the end of the series of stories with Hannibal as a key figure. I hope you enjoyed them. Thanks for reading along.

Disclaimer: I do not own The A Team movie or television series or any of the delightful characters found on The A Team.

After three hours of driving, the announcement that Hannibal hoped for came over the radio. The authorities had arrested Jack and his men and recovered the stolen jewels.

Good news, but we're not home free yet, the Colonel thought as he glanced back at Face, Melody and Murdock.

Melody made Face comfortable in the back by sitting on the floor and letting him use her lap as a pillow. His eyes were closed and he let out an occasional moan.

Murdock was a different matter. From his seat behind B. A., he whimpered and rubbed ferociously at the itchy patches on his arms and face with his bandaged hands.

Shortly after they got on the road, Melody attempted to place a wet cloth over his eyes to reduce the swelling. Murdock swatted at her hands and howled in terror.

From his initial reaction, the Colonel knew it was hopeless to try. The burning on his skin reminded Murdock too much of the fire ants in Nam and the cold compress too much of the blindfolds the NVA interrogators sometimes used to disorient their prisoners.

"Vui lòng! Loài kiến lửa là ở khắp mọi nơi! Tại sao bạn sẽ không giúp tôi! (Please! Fire ants are everywhere! Why won't you help me!)"

Looking back at him, Hannibal was glad the pilot was securely buckled into the seat farthest from the door with Face and Melody blocking his way. Even if he managed to reach it, he could not use his hands to open it.

"Ain' there anythin' we can do 'bout the fool, Hannibal? He's gonna drive me crazy with all that jibber-jabber." B. A. glanced into the rear view mirror and winced at the torture his team-mate was obviously going through because of the painkiller they had given him.

The Colonel shook his head and patted the big man on the shoulder. "I'll see what I can do but I can't sedate him. Not with what he's already taken. As soon as we get near Sacramento, pull in to the first small motel you can find. Maybe in Rocklin. Or Roseville."

B. A. nodded and took a deep breath. "Should be there in 'bout fifteen minutes. Jus' do somethin' 'bout Murdock. Okay? Fool's hurtin' bad." He increased his speed and flashed concerned glances in the mirror at the agitated Captain.

Hannibal squeezed between the front seats and sidestepped Melody and Face to kneel beside the pilot.

He leaned close to the other man's ear and began to talk.

"You're safe, son. You're home. You got hold of some medicine that didn't agree with you. That's all."

"Colonel?" The single word came out in a higher-pitched whine.

"That's right. I'm right beside you. Do you remember when you were a kid? Did you ever have chicken pox?" Hannibal didn't know all of Murdock's medical history but surely he must have had chicken pox when he was younger.

Hasn't almost everyone? And thinking about that time will get his mind off Nam.

He could tell from the frown above the swollen eyes that the pilot was thinking.

"Yeah. Gramma 'n' Grampa made me stay in bed 'n' gave me lots o' comic books t' read. 'N' Gramma's homemade chicken noodle soup." A small smile flickered across his face.

"And didn't she tell you that no matter how much the pox itched, you shouldn't scratch them?" Hannibal watched the smile fade.

"Yer gonna tell me not t' scratch? Jus' like Gramma did? B'cause I kinda scratched when she wasn' watchin'."

"Well then, I could order you as your commanding officer but I thought this way was better."

"Jus' keep talkin' t' me, Colonel. Keep my min' off th' itch."

"Will do, Captain."

With the calmer atmosphere in the back seat of the van prevailing, B. A. drove another twenty minutes before finding a motel on Washington Boulevard in Roseville. It wasn't the kind of motel Face would have preferred when he was well.

Hannibal sighed as the blonde Lieutenant took a critical look around as they made their way to the rooms the Colonel had procured.

Now I'm going to hear it.

"Hope the bed's comfortable" was all Face muttered as he staggered across the door jamb. He collapsed on the bed without another word and closed his eyes.

"One down, one to go," Hannibal mumbled to B. A. as he passed by carrying two duffel bags on one shoulder and guiding Murdock to the second adjoining room. "As soon as you're settled in, run some lukewarm water in the tub. Put some calamine lotion in the water and have him soak. That should give him some relief until the Demerol has worked through his system."

"Aw, Colonel! That mean I gotta room with him, too?" B. A. grumbled but Hannibal could see the Sergeant was happier now that Murdock was back in reality.

"Whatcha 'fraid of, Big Guy? I ain' contagious." Murdock raised his bandaged hand to scratch and dropped it again when B. A. growled.

Hannibal ignored the banter. It merely told him both of his men were on their way to recovery. "I'll get another two bottles of lotion somewhere. When he gets out of the tub, we'll coat those itchy patches with calamine."

"Beg pardon, Colonel, but can' I have Mel spread th' lotion? I mean, all Faceman's gonna do is sleep, ain' he?"

Hannibal had to grin when he looked at Murdock's hopeful face.

"I'll see what I can do. Meanwhile, you do what B. A. says."

The pilot shot an apprehensive glance at B. A.'s unexpected smile. Hannibal chuckled.

Yeah. Things are getting back to normal.