This story is the result of a stroll I took through my scraps file. It began life as an early first draft of the ending for my story, "Even Here", but was eventually scrapped when that one took a different turn. I still loved it's heart, though, so decided rework the opening, expand it a little, and post it as an extended ending/WHN. That said, it can easily stand on its own as well, so no worries if you haven't read that other fic. All you need to know is that the guys are in the POW Camp. Hope you enjoy!
It was late, but none of them were asleep. Not anymore. B.A. had drifted off for awhile, fatigue dragging him under without his permission. But he'd surfaced again now and was determined to stay awake. At least for a little while.
Blinking open heavy-lidded eyes, B.A. tried to reorient himself in the gloom. There was an arm around his shoulders and a warm chest beneath his head. The memory of how he'd ended up in that position was blurry, but there was no doubt Hannibal was the one holding him. His pride twinged a little at the thought—but an even greater part of him just wanted to press closer. It was foolish, or so he told himself. But somehow all that mattered right now was knowing Hannibal was still there and that he was safe. They both were.
Face and Murdock were still there, too. The soft patter of their voices assured B.A. of that even before his gaze could find them in the dark. Not that they were all that hard to find. Face had tucked Murdock safely back into the corner and seated himself like a sentry beside him. The pilot was propped up on one elbow, the fingers of his free hand twisted in Face's shirt and his head craned back at an uncomfortable angle. It was almost like he was trying to look at Face upside down, but couldn't be bothered to turn all the way over to do it. Which honestly made about as much sense as anything did when it came to Murdock these days—and that included the way he was currently staring up at their conman like he hung the moon. Even in the dark, the childlike wonder on his face was unmistakable. If the fool'd had any sense, he would've been staring up in confusion instead, because for some reason Face seemed to be outlining a plan to rescue all the sea turtles from the ocean.
B.A. frowned as he tried to figure out what that even meant. He'd just begun to wonder if he was having some kind of weird dream, when there was a rumble beneath his ear. He pinched his brows together, unsure what was happening until the chest he was using as a pillow began to shake. That's when he realized the Colonel was laughing.
"That's some plan, Face," Hannibal said. "Makes some of mine look positively tame. I'm proud of you."
Face grinned, the white of his teeth shining even in the shadows. "If you think that one's good, just wait until you hear my plan for rescuing all the seahorses."
Another bark of laughter shook Hannibal's chest, only this time, it ended with a gasp.
When he saw the Colonel pressing a hand to his ribs, B.A. tried to sit up. But the arm around his shoulders just pulled him closer.
"I'm fine," Hannibal murmured. "Go back to sleep."
"But—"
"I can make that an order, Sergeant."
B.A. growled, long and low. It wasn't often Hannibal pulled rank. The relationship he nurtured with his men and the respect he gave them in return, meant he didn't have to. Of course, that also meant whenever he did pull rank, every one of them listened—even B.A. Baracus.
He shifted around, though, before he obeyed, making sure to place his head on the Colonel's shoulder, rather than his chest. Maybe Hannibal didn't care if he could breathe easily or not, but B.A. did. "Fool," he muttered.
With a throaty chuckle, Hannibal gave him another squeeze. "Love you, too, kid."
B.A. growled again, just for the sake of being contrary, but he didn't mean it. Which may or may not have been why he grimaced and tacked on another growl.
"Uh, Hannibal? Is that snoring?"
"No, growling," Hannibal said cheerfully. "Now back to those plans of yours, Lieutenant. Before you get too caught up building underwater resorts for seahorses, what about us? Any ideas on how we should spend the month of R and R we have coming our way?"
There was a beat of hesitation, then a tell-tale flash of white in the dark. "One word, Colonel: Honolulu." Face swept his hand in an arch like the name was written on a banner. "An entire month of nothing but sand, sun, palm trees... bikinis." With a dreamy sigh and more animation than he'd shown in weeks, the Lieutenant began sketching out more details.
First class hotel accommodations for all of them—including a suite for B.A.'s Momma.
Steak and seafood for days. Fresh fruit, crisp salads, gallons of real milk and cool drinks.
Blankets of orchids, sunsets on the beach.
Soft beds, full stomachs.
Safety.
With bleary eyes, B.A. watched Murdock finally lay his head down. There was a touch of a smile on the pilot's face, and B.A. couldn't help but smile, too. It all seemed so far away, sometimes. Their freedom most especially, but other simpler things too, like peace, happiness… hope.
And then sometimes, like now, it didn't feel so far away after all.
THE END