Story setting is about 10 years past Season 5, so everyone is older but not like OLD. And no Frankie in this because I forgot him and then decided I like it without him (sorry). Wrote this to help me process the death of a relative, plus it gave me an excuse for more Murdock\Amy content (hey, I can't help myself).
Chapter 1
Sometimes plans don't come together. Like the plan that four men on the run had to always be together, right to the end. What they hadn't anticipated was that was partly true. They would all be together... to witness the end of one of them.
After leaving the "employment" of General Stockwell, the four renegades-for-hire had taken a serious look at how they wanted to live the rest of their lives. They found that while they didn't want to completely stop helping citizens in distress, they also knew they were running out of time to live the lives they always dreamed of. That was when Hannibal suggested that they do both: cut back on their missions and be more selective on those they accept, and use the extra time to build individual lives.
It worked well for them and gave a new energy to the team. Hannibal focused on his acting career, posing as his own agent to get himself cast back into the Aquamaniac films. B.A. settled into the rough part of town at a local youth center, where he counseled troubled teens and taught them mechanic shop class. Faceman beelined it towards the city and quickly scammed his way into high society, having a new date every week and several penthouses (still owned by the people he scammed at no personal cost, of course). Murdock had worked many different jobs on the side during their stint with Stockwell, but now that he had much more time he had found a job as a private pilot for one of Face's high-society aquaintences.
Everything seemed to be going picture-perfectly, but none of them had expected the phone call on that late summer day. They had all been contacted by Hannibal the day before, asking for them to get together at Face's condo for a meeting. The three had shown up on time the next day, and waited. And waited. And still no Hannibal.
That was when the phone rang.
The consequent trip to the hospital to identify their leader's body made for one of the darkest days the team could remember. They had listened numbly as the nurse told them about his final hours, and how he had given her strict orders on who to call and what to say. And then they had seen him, hair and skin the same white color now, in a pale hospital gown and so very still.
The rest of that day was a blur to the remaining team members. Hannibal had already made arrangements for a funeral home and everything was paid for out of his own earnings. That's what hurt them the most: that he knew he was dying and had said nothing to them. However, death had come sooner than even the colonel himself had planned on, so beyond the funeral nothing else had been taken care of except he had left the keys to his car and beach house at the hospital for them.
The funeral home would take his body and perform their duties. Hannibal had instructed a closed casket, and the funeral was to be held the approaching Saturday.
The remaining members of the team soberly climbed into B.A.'s van, and returned to Face's condo, each silently attempting to process the shock.
Thousands of miles away in California, another phone call was being received...
"Hello?"
"Miss Amy Allen?"
"Yes, this is she. Who's calling?"
"My name is Marie, I'm a nurse at Richmond Hospital in Virginia. I'm calling because I found your number in a man's personal phonebook, and I thought you might be a close friend. There weren't many numbers in it."
"Alright, well, who's the man?"
"His name is John Smith."
"Oh. I'm unsure if I know him. Maybe if you tell me why you're calling, and how you came to have his phonebook?"
"Well, this man was admitted to the hospital a couple days ago, but I'm sorry to say he has since passed away. He left me instructions to call the people on the back page of the book. I called all four numbers, and then I saw your number written very small close to the bottom edge of the page."
Silence.
"Ma'am, are you still there?"
"... Um, yes - sorry. I'm unsure I know this person, do you have an address for this John Smith? Maybe that will jog my memory."
The woman named Amy Allen scribbled down the address as she heard it, then thanked the nurse and hung up her bedside phone. Brushing back her straight brown hair, she stood up out of bed, but just as suddenly she sat back down. She shivered slightly in her nightgown and glanced out the window at the first light of dawn, her vision blurring from the tears that began spilling over.
"Oh Hannibal... what happened?"
"The man had a lot of cigars, that's for sure," B.A. said as he tossed another empty cigar box into the trash.
"He sure did," Face answered bitterly. "And why didn't I stop him?"
Murdock looked up from where he was boxing up a collection of western novels.
"What'cha mean, Face?"
"What do I mean? It was always, 'Give us a cigar, Face', 'You got a light, Face?'. The man never stopped smoking, and I helped him do it. I might as well have lit the one that killed him!"
He crumpled up the shirt he held and threw it into the open box of Hannibal's clothes.
"C'mon Face," Murdock took a step towards his friend. "You know it wasn't any one cigar. It was a lifetime of a habit that he let get out of control. I helped him too, you know..."
Face looked at the pilot, and realized that they were all hurting, not just himself. He moved over to put an arm around Murdock's shoulders.
"Thanks buddy. I'm sorry, it's just... I still can't believe he's gone."
"That makes three of us."
B.A. tied up his second trash bag of cigar boxes and let it fall with a thump, then joined his friends in the middle of the room and put a hand on Face's shoulder.
Hannibal's apartment was evidence of a bachelor's pad, with half-eaten chinese takout in the fridge, dirty dishes in the sink and several pairs of western boots by the door. The nicest furniture he owned were a leather couch and color television set. Despite the fact that he had enough money to live more luxuriously, he had preferred to live as he always did - comfortable and independent.
Face returned to packing up clothes, and B.A. moved on to clean the bathroom while Murdock closed the box of books and added it to the stack. He turned to start unplugging the television when there was a knock on the door. The two men froze, and signaled to B.A. to keep quiet when he poked his head out of the bathroom. Murdock drew a pistol from his back pocket and motioned to Face to draw near the door while B.A. flicked the lights off. There was no second knock, but instead the familiar quiet rattle of someone picking the lock. Murdock took the back side of the door, while Face stood flush against the wall on the side the door would open. A moment later the door opened slowly, and a slight figure appeared in the doorway. Waiting till the intruder took a few steps inside, Face lunged forward and skillfully put the person into a hold with one arm, while his other arm wrapped tightly around the person's neck. Murdock kicked the door shut and leveled his weapon at the intruder.
"Now, B.A.!"
The lights flashed on, and Murdock could tell immediately that it was a woman in nice clothes with brown hair. Her eyes squinted shut at the sudden brightness, and she tried to let out a shriek through Face's arm.
"Who are you?" Murdock demanded. "Why did you break into this apartment?"
The woman's eyes blinked open wide and locked onto his brown ones, and instantly she stopped struggling and exlaimed something muffled. Murdock's brow furrowed as he hesitated, unable to break away from her gaze that penetrated deep into his memory.
"A - Amy?" He asked hesitantly.
Face stared at him from around the woman's head in confusion, then suddenly yelled out and released her.
"Ouch! She bit me!"
With no arms around her now they could see the woman more fully, and there was no doubt in their minds. The pistol dropped to the floor with a clunk.
"Amy!"
"Murdock!"
She flew into his arms and he hugged her tightly in amazement, while Face rubbed his forearm.
"Oh, sure, you get a hug and all I got was her front teeth!"
"Face! I'm sorry, but you were choking me!"
Amy released Murdock to give Face a hug too, and B.A. came running into the midst of them.
"Amy, you really here?!"
She laughed and embraced him as well, then bent to pick up the fallen gun.
"Drop something, Howlin' Mad?" She offered it back to him on one finger, enjoying the small blush on his cheeks as he took it and returned it to his pocket.
"What are you doing here?" Face asked.
"I got the call about Hannibal. His nurse found my number in his phonebook." She glanced around the apartment, her smile fading to solemness. "She gave me the address and I caught the first plane this morning."
"Well, this is Hannibal's pad." Face gestured with a sweep of his arm.
Murdock stared at her as Face showed her around the apartment. She was like them, older and it showed around her eyes and mouth some, but he thought she was still extremely pretty. He was glad to see her hair was still a rich brown and that her clothing style hadn't changed much from the business casual she used to wear.
The short tour ended and she took a seat on the couch, prompting them all to do the same.
"So, what happened?" She looked at each of them. "Was it a mission gone wrong? Did Hannibal's plan not work?"
To her surprise the three men shook their heads.
"What got Hannibal, got 'im from the inside," B.A. said sadly.
"It was cancer. Those darn cigars of his!" Face said bitterly and Murdock patted his shoulder.
"We didn't even know till it was over," the pilot put in. "Hannibal kept it under wraps pretty good. So good that we didn't even know he was fading away before our eyes."
The reporter looked from one to the other with tears threatening in her eyes. The strong team she once knew was now without their leader, and the difference was startling to her. Sure, Face and Murdock had slight graying near the temples, and B.A. looked like he'd lost some weight, but it was the lack of the spark of life in their eyes that got to her the most. It was there when they greeted her, but immediately faded once they sat down and talked about Hannibal.
"Have you guys eaten anything?" She asked, trying to focus on caring for them instead of her own pain.
"Nah, chica. Been to busy to think about it."
She warmed a bit at the old familar pet name Murdock gave her. Standing up, she shouldered her purse and tried to sound stronger than she felt.
"Well, I haven't eaten either in my rush to get here. I'll go pick us up some pizza and then help you guys finish going through this stuff."
Noticing the weary look the guys all gave to the apartment around them, she realized they had probably been there the entire afternoon.
"We'll eat in the park I passed by on my way here. Some fresh air will do us all good."
"Sure, Amy. Whatever you say." They all replied.
Doing her best to not be disheartened, she strode to the door and opened it, but paused when they spoke to her again.
"No mushrooms, okay?"
"Extra cheese on my half, chaquita?"
"Hey mama, I can't do no anchovies remember?"
She smiled at them and nodded before leaving, glad to see them perk up even a little bit. Now if only she could too.