A/N: First of all, I want to say to InACupFool, the timing of your review was perfect! I had actually already finished this chapter and started on the next, but hadn't had a chance to post yet because I went to the movies. :)

Good news and bad news people. Good news: There's only one (or two if I decide to split it up) chapter left before the epilogue (that's already written), and I've already started on it! Bad news: This story's almost over. I'm both excited and saddened by that. This story has probably been my favorite to write so far.

Anyway, thank you to every who has reviewed/favorited/followed this story! It's been a long ride, but thanks for hanging on. Hope you continue to enjoy!

1969

"Hey man."

BA paused for a moment, but didn't turn his head to look at his teammate. He didn't really feel like talking, and the medic had known him long enough to know that.

Sure enough, Reyes wasn't offended. He simply leaned against the jeep, looking out at the rest of the motor pool as BA resumed his work under the hood. "I talked to my friends in medical," he said lightly.

The burly sergeant paused again, but only for a second.

"Miller owes me. He called over to the 95th to check up on McKinney." Reyes looked down at BA and added gently, "He's gonna be okay."

This got BA to look at him.

Reyes sighed as he met those sorrowful eyes that now had a glimmer of hope in them. "He's getting discharged. He's going home."

BA held Reyes's sympathetic gaze for a minute before turning back to his work.

"It's not Peck's fault, ya know."

A small growl escaped the burly sergeant, but he didn't look at the medic; just glared at the engine in front of him.

Reyes continued looking at BA, even if the big man wouldn't look at him. "I get why you're pissed at him. Trust me. I get it," he said emphatically. The medic sighed before adding with a shrug, "But he did try to help in his own way. He quit selling to McKinney when he realized how hooked he was getting. He tried to stop him."

"He shoulda said somethin'."

Nodding his agreement, Reyes retorted, "Yeah. But I don't think he knows how to ask for help." The medic shrugged. "Even if that help is for someone else."

BA looked up at his teammate.

After a moment, Reyes smirked. "You know something, don't you?" When BA furrowed his brows, the medic elaborated, "You know why he cut McKinney off."

Not replying, BA turned his attention back to the engine. But they both knew the burly sergeant wasn't really focused on the jeep.

"Hold on to that."

BA paused.

Reyes sighed, and patted his teammate on the shoulder. "Whatever you know that kept you from beating the shit out of Peck when you found out about McKinney's OD, remember that when you want to blame him for McKinney's addiction."

With that, the medic left without another word; leaving BA alone with his thoughts and the jeep's engine.

0

Murdock found the object of his search behind the hangers, nestled on top of a crate, but hidden between the higher stacks on either side of him.

"Trying to hide?"

Peck rolled his eyes petulantly. "If I was, you wouldn't find me."

The pilot let out a soft chuckle as he shrugged slightly. "From what I've heard, that's probably true," he agreed. His tone was serious, but his voice was light.

The lieutenant didn't say anything, just took a long pull off his cigarette before taking a swig out of his bottle of whisky.

Murdock leaned against the crates; half staring out towards the fence on the edge of camp, and half watching the kid.

Several minutes passed with neither speaking. Murdock had lit up a cigarette of his own, and Peck had continued his smoking and drinking without even looking at the pilot.

"Not your fault, ya know."

A second's hesitation was the only reaction Peck gave before he took the final drag of his cigarette.

Watching the lieutenant light up another, Murdock continued, "Soldiers were gettin' high and overdosing long before you joined up. War's hell. Drugs ain't goin' away. That's got nothin' to do with you."

The captain's seriousness was simple, but firm. And Peck wasn't sure what to do with that. He went to take another drink, but suddenly the bottle was yanked out of his hand.

Before Peck could even protest, Murdock had tossed the bottle towards the fence; what little whisky was left in it glistening in the sun alongside the glass shards as the bottle shattered and left it spread across the ground.

"What the hell is wrong with you?!" Peck was up and in the pilot's face in an instant.

Murdock didn't waver. He didn't back down, but he didn't get defensive either. Remaining calm, he replied, "You're too young to be an alcoholic."

Clenching his fists, Peck barely kept himself from hitting the captain. His taut muscles were straining against the instinctive reaction to fight. And Murdock's relaxed demeanor and calm expression just served to fuel his fury.

"You know nothing about me," the kid said slowly, in a low growl that sounded dangerously predatory.

The pilot shrugged. "So tell me," he retorted simply.

Setting his jaw, the lieutenant managed to swallow the vicious reply on the tip of his tongue. Continuing to glare at the captain, Peck slowly forced himself to take a deep breath to calm himself down enough to turn and start walking away.

But Murdock wasn't going to let their conversation end there, and followed. Catching up to the kid, he asked, "What did you think? You think that you could just sign up to go to war, and getting yourself killed over here would make up for whatever crappy past you've got? If that's the case, then you're crazier than I am, kid. And that's sayin' somethin'."

Peck rounded on the pilot and gave him a hard shove. "Leave. Me. The hell alone," he warned coldly before turning to continue walking away.

"No." Murdock was just as firm, and caught up to the lieutenant, shoving him into the side of the hanger; surprising the kid with his speed and strength.

It caught Peck off guard enough that he didn't fight back at first. But it wasn't the pilot's strength that kept him in place; it was the intensity in those half-crazed, half-dead serious eyes.

"You've had plenty of chances to die in this war, but that survival instinct of yours won't let you." Murdock's voice was quiet, but hard. "My guess is that you've spent so many years doing whatever it took to survive that you can't even control it anymore; can't turn it off. And you're too good of a soldier to die from anything other than just the bad luck that's killed too many good people." The captain's voice softened a little as he continued, "Whatever reason you joined the Army – whatever you've done since… You've got a chance here. This team – We're a family."

That was the word that catapulted Peck into trying to escape the pilot's grasp, but the captain wasn't having it.

Turning the kid to look him in the eyes, Murdock told him gently, but steadily, "I get that's probably a foreign concept to you. But believe me when I tell you it's real." Sighing heavily, the pilot let go of the kid. "You should really give it a chance." Murdock shrugged and added lightly, "Never know, muchacho, ya might like it."

Peck didn't move as he watched Murdock light a cigarette and walk away.

A/N: Hope you guys liked that chapter! I know it was shorter, and the next ones probably will be too, but hopefully you'll understand why. I've already got the next one started, so once that's finished I'll post it and the epilogue, and then that's it. As always, reviews are greatly appreciated!