Synopsis: Evil plot bunny taken up from Capt .Rat. A
darker side to the Facial one. Is Face a killer??????
Disclaimer: I do not own the A Team, I just play with them.
Face sat beside the lakeside watching, watching what he wasn't quite sure. It had been a while, since, well, since the last one. The urge came from deep down within his screwed up soul, a carnal need that needed to be satisfied. He slowly got up and walked towards the lake side, as he neared the water's edge he knelt down and scooped up some water in his hand, the water trickled through his fingers, so clean, so pure, he smiled, life was summit like that, trickling through your fingers a never ending force, bound by fate, the stream of water like threads of life entangling and untangling on their own personal highway. Threads of life that could be so easily cut short defying the so-called divine order of things the priests had tried to install in Templeton Peck. Maybe that was why he felt the need to do what he did, his sourness towards the shitty hand life dealt him, a world bereft of the love others took for granted, maybe that was what irked him, what drove him on, at this point he didn't care, he looked up as Hannibal walked up the pier a vacant look on his furrowed brow, brown leather gloves sodden with water. He continued walking past Face, unable to look at him, this was nothing knew, he'd calm down he always did. "Plenty more fish in the sea." Face muttered as he got to his feet and followed his Colonel, as always.
Hannibal washed his hands in the sink, they still felt sullied, he felt like Lady Macbeth, unable to rid herself of the blood staining her palms. This had to end, but how? Hannibal could feel his heartbreaking when he dwelled on what Face was capable of, his son, a taker of innocence, which was kind of ironic as his innocence had long since been ripped from its foundations.
Murdock popped his head round the corner of the door, "Hey Colonel! Where'd you and Face go? Tawnia left you know, for good!"
Hannibal looked up, how was he going to stop this tragic play spiraling out of control, he knew, had known for along time how Murdock felt about Face. He'd discreetly told Tawnia to go, for her own good, bla bla bla. Well in a way it was, she'd rather be breathing than in a watery grave, wouldn't she? Murdock stood there completely oblivious to the grizzly acts, happening under his very nose.
"Nowhere interesting Capt, its gonna be real quiet round here without Tawnia, this place is gonna be a pig sty real soon, with just us!" Murdock couldn't help but notice the pained statement on the Colonel's face, something was going on, and as usual he would be the last to know.
"Don't blame me for his mess! " Face said as he appeared at the top of the stairs ready for his evening run, a mischievous grin illuminating his features.
Murdock snorted in mock hurt, "I'm not the one out all hours, leaving their sweaty running gear all over the floor!" He retorted.
"Catch me if you can!"
Face shot back as he ran down the stairs.
Hannibal sank down in the chair, he still had no idea what he was going to do, and he just hoped Murdock wouldn't push the point of his affections, not tonight! He stared into the flames of the fire sparks spat at each other, what fiery hell were they destined for he wondered, he knew that it was up to him to stop his son, the only way he knew how, the most final way!
"C'mon slow coach! " Face yelled as he dove into the bus shelter out of the rain, coming down in torrents, both he and Murdock were soaked to the skin, their clothes clinging to them like Clingfilm.
Murdock eyed Face warily
as he panted out of breadth, "You never said it was a race Facey
guy!" he spluttered. Face's shirt clung to his wet torso, his blonde hair
stuck to his sodden hair, Murdock was about to move forward when Face turned to
him, those sapphire eyes blazing like a gas flame, he knew what Murdock was
thinking, he cupped Murdock's chin tenderly with the palm of his hand, the
feeling was stirring deep down inside, without a thought he punched him, hard,
Murdock caught off balance flew across the bus shelter, landing on his side,
blood pooled under his chin, Face breathing hard glared down at the crumpled
"Face! Hey Face!" Murdock yelled,
Face swung round his eyes wide! Brought back to reality real quick, was that a daydream or nightmare, he wasn't sure. "Sorry Murdock I was miles away!" Face replied wiping the sweat from his eyes.
Hannibal sighed audibly; he couldn't hide his relief when he saw both figures come up the driveway. He knew Face was going to do it again, soon, too soon. Murdock had no idea what was going on around him, probably make a good farce, he thought to himself, the fool of the piece, except this wasn't funny, even dark humour seemed ungainly within this perverse game Face played. Maybe perverse was the wrong word, Face always seemed so vacant afterwards, in spirit, mind and body, Hannibal always had to manhandle him away from the grizzly sight he always left, one of these days, probably real soon, Hannibal wouldn't be late, oh who was he kidding, he never wanted to be around Face when he did what he did, sweet Jesus, he'd probably kill him too.
Face sat on the blanket under the weeping willow in the garden center he'd broken into, with the beautiful Julia Hemmingway sat beside him, sipping champagne blissfully unaware of Face's intentions. They'd been seeing each other for a few months now, and she hoped that maybe just maybe he might ask her to move in with him, yes that would be nice. As Hannibal scaled the wall, his heart was pumping, was he going to be too late? The scream, that pieced the idyllic night under the stars, spurred him on. What evil walked this night had found another innocent to defile.
Julia ran, she ran without looking back, that man had intervened at the very last moment, blood trickled through her fingers as she clasped her hand to her neck, she didn't know where she was going, she didn't see the ornamental water feature in front of her.
Hannibal stood over the unmoving body, oh god what had he done? The angel lay at his feet, how could he have fallen so far? Those broken wings, burning in the fires of hell. A tormented soul, bereft of love, Hannibal knelt down beside the inert body, unable to control his tears.
As Hannibal carried the
limp body he glanced at the female form silhouetted under the security lights,
floating face down in the pond, she'd not made it after all. The weeping female
stone figure looking down at the horrific sight seemed to make the whole thing
worse, Hannibal wasn't a religious man, but even he could guess that the stone
figurine probably had some religious significance. He couldn't stay, the police
would be here soon, and someone would have heard that spine-chilling scream.
With a weary sigh and a heavy heart Hannibal turned and walked slowly away.
It was a short walk to the lakeside marina, at this time of night it was deserted; Hannibal gently laid the body of his LT on the grass verge. Face was dying, and for once Hannibal didn't know what the right thing to do was. Hannibal's blow to his head had done significant damage, he wasn't gonna wake up, not real soon anyway, the stab wound to his side was gushing arterial blood, a hair pin had its uses Hannibal idly thought to himself. Hannibal felt for a pulse, thready and weak, Face was barely breathing, how could he do this? How could he sit by and watch his son die? Murdock would never forgive him, would he forgive Face for his actions? Hannibal didn't have the, answers not this time. Hannibal took Face in his arms, "God forgive me, "he muttered, "Face I'm so sorry!" he sobbed.
Hannibal sat bolt upright in bed, he was soaked in sweat, it was just a dream, oh god, a dream, a nightmare? An omen? Hannibal could hear laughing outside, he slowly got up and opened his curtain, Face and Murdock, figures. Hannibal thought to himself, god only knew how Murdock had talked the LT into a game of basketball. Hannibal couldn't shake the images in his mind, Face bleeding to death in his arms; he couldn't let it come to that, he just couldn't.
"No fair!" Face whined as they came in the kitchen," it was a draw!" Murdock smirked, he loved winding the Face man up, he knew every trick in the book, Face grabbed the soda of him, "Next time, next time!" he grizzled. Hannibal walked slowly into the kitchen, Face's car keys in his hands, "And where prey tell, do ya think your going with my baby?" Face asked after he gulped down some cool liquid, sating his thirst for now.
"We need to go somewhere Face, just you and me, it
won't take long, it's a surprise for BA." Hannibal hated lying, but he
hadn't any choice. Face frowned, he didn't believe Hannibal, but hey a ride out
in the vette would clear his head, his date with Julia tonight was on his mind.
She'd been real clingy recently, it was time, he thought to himself.
While Face disappeared off to the bathroom, Hannibal slipped a powder into his drink, Murdock was sat in front of the TV watchin yet another rerun of the roadrunner cartoon. Face came bounding through the door a broad grin exposing those immaculate teeth, glinting in the sun, if only everyone knew what a skillful predator lay beneath them. He grabbed his drink, downed the remaining liquid and threw the empty can in the bin. "C'mon then!" he piped as he bounded out the door.
"Did you have to drug him Colonel?" Richter asked as he helped Hannibal carry the limp body into the examination room.
"He never would have come other wise." Hannibal replied. Face groaned as they put him on the chair and reluctantly placed the shackles over his wrists and ankles,
"I can't believe we're doing this! Your lucky this place has shut down, this is going to take time, and I mean how can you be sure I'm the right person to do this?" Richter asked as he checked Face over, he sighed with relief, as all his vitals were normal,
"It was only a light sedative Doc, just enough to knock him out." Hannibal muttered as he walked backwards sinking down on the old gurney next to the wall.
Face came too slowly, his head was banging, he went to move and groaned as he felt the restraints, he opened his eyes as his vision cleared he recognized Hannibal sat in front of him. "Hannibal what the fuck is going on? Tell me you didn't drug me and tie me up!" Face gasped as his level of consciousness increased.
"YOU DID THIS BECAUSE YOU HAD A FUCKING DREAM!" Face yelled, pulling at his bonds, his anger welling,
Richter looked at Hannibal, "A dream?"
"Face it was more than a dream, more like a premonition! Jesus Christ kid, you were seeing her tonight! I knew what you were going to do, I couldn't let it get that far." Hannibal trailed away;
Face was fuming, the bonds cutting into his skin, "Let me GO!" Face yelled. Breathing hard he pulled against the restraints,
Richter slowly shook his head, "You aren't going anywhere LT, just relax!"
"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Face screamed as he continued to push against the metal, blood trickled down the side of his wrists; Hannibal ran forward and unsnapped the clasps on his arms, not his legs. He moved away as Face lunged forward he ripped one leg out of its restraint, gashing his ankle, he screamed in agony as he recoiled back holding his left foot his hand caked in blood, "IS THIS SO FUCKING BETTER, COLONEL!" he snarled through gritted teeth, so much pain, so much pain, his vision was blurring, as he fell back unconscious .
The look of horror in Hannibal's statement, wasn't lost on
Richter as they manhandled Face onto the nearby gurney, "Jesus Hannibal, I
have never seen him like this, he's broken that ankle, and he's losing blood,
too much blood, I thought this is what you wanted to avoid!" Richter
snapped as he worked, stopping the blood flow, and hooking up an IV, "It's
a long damn time since I've done this!" He muttered.
Hannibal sat by the bed his head in his hands, Face was shackled to the bed, he was still unconscious, the blood transfusion he'd had had taken time to get, precious time, his ankle was in a cast, his wrists bandaged. Nothing quite likes putting a plaster over a tiny hole in the dam, Hannibal thought to himself.
Face stirred as Hannibal's mind began to wander, his eyes opened slowly, he didn't bother trying to move, "You still here!" He said quietly.
"What'd you think I'd run? Like everyone else has in your whole damn life?" Hannibal replied.
Hannibal could see the anger in Face's eyes. He could also see the pain, he wanted so much to release him from his bonds, but if he did, how would Face react? As violently as before, somehow Hannibal doubted that. Slowly he leant forward and clicked the release mechanism first to his left wrist then to his right, he paused examining the emotionless statement on the LT's face in detail, he then undid the restraints on his ankles.
"Better?" He asked.
Face shifted position slowly shuffling to the sitting position, Hannibal went to help, "I can fucking manage!" Face growled. Hannibal shrank away he recognized that tone, only too well.
"Don't you ever get tired of all this shit?" Face asked "I mean bein Stockwell's whipping boy and all! You used to have a spine Hannibal, did it hurt when he yanked it out?" Hannibal snorted, he knew this game, it was an old one, and Face was deliberately goading him, pressing those oh so familiar buttons. Hannibal wasn't about to take the bait, not this time.
"You quite finished?" He asked, before Face could reply Richter came in carrying a tape player,
"Don't ask!" He muttered "This young man's
request, dubious taste if you ask me, my orderly wasn't best pleased, I asked
to borrow this, still probably made this fossil look a bit more hip?" He
pressed play, as the song rang out, the words tore into Hannibal, he visibly
*****(Song I`m talking about is LIMP BISKITS MY WAY (2000) track 5 on chocolate starfish and the hot dog flavoured water album)
Call it artistic license! I know they weren't around when are guys
"Feel better LT?" Hannibal said as sat down on the easy chair, pointedly trying to not to show that song had bothered him, it appeared to be working,
Face looked puzzled, then a flash of anger appeared across his angelic features, "Does nothing ever bother you Colonel? It must be nice up on your sanctimonious bullshit hill!" He muttered.
Hannibal snorted, "I know what your trying to do and its not going to work this time, I mean, just how many times can you blame me for your past? Last time I checked I wasn't quite capable of time travel!"
"Why are we here Hannibal? Cut the crap for once, just get to the point, oh let me guess, you think a tin pot therapy session with this flake will solve all my problems, specifically the one which seems to bother you so much!"
"Face this can't go
on, you must realize that, I can't continue to be the one who hides the horrors
you leave behind, I couldn't sit back, not when I saw Murdock trying so hard to
get so close to you!"
Face glared at Hannibal, "You think I'd hurt Murdock? "
Hannibal stood up, he walked slowly towards the bed, he leant against the end of the bed palms against the rail, his eyes met Face's, icy stare to icy stare, "I don't think I know!" Hannibal replied.
Richter sighed; Face hadn't said a word for hours. The painful silence was beginning to be a lot worse than the harsh words. Hannibal was sat quietly in the easy chair, puffing away on his never- ending supply of cancer sticks. Ok so they weren't exactly sticks, those bloody cigars would be the death of him though, and of that Richter had no doubt, every hungry inspiration, strangling precious alveoli in those blackened lungs.
Face's gaze never left the window, the blackness outside seemed so easy to relate to, a vacuum of nothingness, the rain, god why did it always rain when he felt like this, maybe they were the blessed tears of the guy/gal upstairs, trying to clean his somewhat blackened soul, bit bloody late, Face thought to himself, you forsook me a long buggerin time ago, its way to late for your kind of absolution! Besides I seem to have my own personal walking talking conscience, sitting over their like some fuckin judge, puffing away on the same cigars I scammed for his ungrateful butt. Then again, Hannibal was one of the few constants in my wretched life, and I have to admit he had a point about Murdock, who knew nothing about the macabre side to his angelic masque. The thought of hurting him, well, it didn't sit very well in his mind. He'd rather die than bring any harm to his soul mate, yes it was strange to admit, to himself anyway, hurting Murdock, would be masochistic not sadistic, Face wondered if Hannibal realized that his LT would die before hurting him?
"So how long are we going to play this game?" Face suddenly asked breaking the silence with a shattering force which made Richter jump spilling his hot coffee on his hand as he poured it, his back to the disgruntled LT.
"Dammit!" he muttered,
Face frowned, "Why so jumpy Doc?"
"Oh I dunno maybe its because we've been sitting here for the past 36 hrs and you haven't said a fucking word!" Richter replied his voice dripping with sarcasm.
"I still don't know why Hannibal's brought me here, he's been gone a while, glad he gets to go AWOL, I mean all this stale air does nothing for ones complexion you know." Face replied as he absentmindedly rubbed the bandages on his ankle, the throbbing wasn't abating, he still felt a little light headed, and quite frankly he felt in no mood to be psycho analysed. Richter's eyes narrowed as he observed his pissed off, sarcastic, malevolent patient, Face was still pale and drawn; he'd lost a lot of blood before those units had got there. The cut on his ankle were jagged and deep and he was probably in a lot of pain.
Face layback he felt dizzy, "Doc" He muttered as he passed out.
"Shit. Shit, shit!" Richter muttered as he redressed Face's ankle, "He nicked a bloody artery, Jesus suffering Christ Kid you've been bleeding all this time, your blood pressure is low, too fuckin low! You didn't say a bloody word!" Richter muttered as he worked, he eyed the clammy pale complexion of the young man in front of him; his capillary refill was crap, "Don't you fucking dare die on me LT? Peripherally shut down, Dammit LT this is all the blood I've got down here!" Richter gritted his teeth as through a furrowed sweaty brow he eyed the monitor beeping away in front him, he wondered where the hell Hannibal was.
Hannibal had no idea what to tell Murdock and BA, Jesus he could hardly walk in and say, hey guys your friend Face is a pathological killer! He sighed as he slammed the door shut on the vette. What WAS he going to say? Words so simple in structure seemed clumsy and ineffectual, as he walked up the path tears welled up in his eyes, dammit he thought to himself, Face you put me on a stage even this actor can't improvise on, his hand hovered over the door handle, the before and after was a real weird thing, if he opened the door and told them, their worlds their own reality would disintegrate as if they'd never existed, if he walked away......., he could see Murdock sat on the couch through glass, jibber jabbering away to the game he was playing on the TV, BA was messing with an engine on the kitchen table, scowling at Murdock, but Hannibal could see there banter, there innocence, Christ hadn't they been through enough, what right did Face have landing him in this unenviable position, between a rock and a hard place, he turned and walked back to the vette wiping the tears away, no this time he was taking control, he'd deal with Face, whatever the result, after all he was the C.O..
Murdock looked up when he heard the squeal of the tires outside, he frowned, "Hannibal?" He muttered.
Face groaned as consciousness ebbed its way to the surface, he'd only
ever felt this rough once before, in NAM, he shuddered at the memory
still raw after all these blood filled years. Wherever he was it was
noisy, he opened his eyes and flinched, he tried to bring his hand up
to cover his eyes but the restraints were effective this time, he
hadn't the strength to fight. He could hear the raw bleeps of the
monitors piercing the already sound drenched room. He slowly
focused, the shadowy figures moving around him had no semblance of
identity within his drug hazed vision, he sank back down into
unconsciousness not really caring where he was or why, he gave in to
the wispy fingers enticing him to sleep, as deep and as murky as the
troubled soul, which was Templeton Peck.
Hannibal hovered over the bed, he wasn't a happy man, this wasn't the
way it was supposed to pan out, this wasn't the way he'd planned it?
Man who was he kidding, what was he expecting a bloody tea party?
Richter had wheeled his patient back down the long corridors to where
he prayed was relatively safe, the moment he'd been stable enough,
ok, maybe stable wasn't the right word, able to survive without the
ventilator was more close to the truth. He'd hidden Peck in a side
room. Found a ventilator not in use and, and basically had the mother
of all nightmares, trying to remember basic medical practices he'd
learnt a long time ago, intubations wasn't an everyday thing in
psychiatry, he just hoped and prayed he hadn't damaged Peck's vocal
cords. Septicaemia was a lethal complication, he could do without,
and anyways Peck was relatively stable, pumped full of antibiotics
and breathing for himself.
Hannibal eyed the weary doctor wiping his glasses with his
handkerchief, "What happened?"
"That cut got infected is what happened, he didn't tell me he was in
so much pain, he stopped breathing about 3 hours after you left,
septicaemia is a killer, I had choice but to risk taking him upstairs, he'd have died if I hadn't. I mean he's still critical and I SHOULDN'T have moved him, but if he was up there ANY longer."
Hannibal nodded, "I get the picture Doc, this isn't how I planned it ..."
"So you had a plan?" Face weakly interrupted, Hannibal turned,
"LT, welcome back, "
Face snorted, "Well I'm helpless, I can't fight back, talk if you wanna talk, if THAT will make you feel better." He said softly his blue eyes slowly opening, "Explain to me why, you did this to one of your own men? To me? You're your son?" His voice was raspy and weak, but the look of betrayal in those eyes was unmistakable.
To be continued......