The cabin was all closed up since the last time they'd used it and would no doubt be dusty and cold. As Hannibal got out of the van he looked up at the sky seeing a bunch of dark clouds gathering and hoped they would get Face in and settled before the storm hit. B.A got out the other side, noticing the same menacing sky and jogged round to assist Murdock who was trying to move Face with out waking him. Hannibal didn't think anything could wake the kid now, thanks to Murdock, Face had slept solidly during the hour it took them to get here, finally surrendering to the meds once he understood he was safe.

While they guys worked together to transport Face from the van to the cabin, Hannibal was already unlocking the place, allowing them entry. As soon as the door opened, the colonel got a taste of the stale, dusty air that billowed out, he stepped inside to open all the windows and air out the place.

"Put Face on the sofa for now," he said as he took off the dust sheet and balled it up before throwing it out onto the porch to hang and beat out later. "Murdock, do the other rooms, B.A," Hannibal handed the muscle man some cash. "Get as much as you can with that, food, medical supplies."

"Sure thing, Hannibal." With both men carrying out their orders, Hannibal liberated the rest of the sitting room and adjoining kitchen from the dust covers, shaking them out on the porch before folding them up and putting them in the storage closest. Murdock had done the same to the bedrooms before moving on to set up their perimeter defences. Hannibal didn't think they would be disturbed by Decker but there had been plenty of times he had thought that, and had been caught by surprise. If ten years on the run had taught them anything, it was to expect the unexpected.

Now alone in the cabin with nothing but the soft, steady breathing for his downed team mate and his thoughts, Hannibal sat wearily, knees creaking and hands trembling ever so slightly. It wasn't often the hardened colonel got like this and when he did he made sure to hide it from the rest of the team. They were in trouble and had been from the day they first escaped the stockade, they looked to Hannibal for guidance, he couldn't fall apart and he couldn't show anything but confidence and certainty that one day, they would be cleared of all charges. He wished that every day for his team, none more so than Face.

The lieutenant had been little more than a boy when he came into Hannibal's care and while the smooth talking, charmer had everyone else fooled, Hannibal along with B.A had sussed the guy out right away. He had the idea to send Face back home to the states, on the grounds he was under age, but proving it was difficult. It seemed like the kid had every base covered and smiled triumphantly when Hannibal was thwarted at every turn. Over the next few months, Hannibal had learned a lot about the kid, that he was resourceful, thorough, could spot a trip wire ten yards away, talk most people into selling him their children, and was small, fast and could take out guys twice his size with one punch. Every day Face proved to Hannibal that he was meant to be there, that there was more to the kid than good looks and the scams he pulled and ultimately, he was the perfect fit into the rag-tag team that was Hannibal's troop.

Hannibal was something of a rouge element himself, never quite living up to the expectations of top brass, which is why he'd never excelled beyond the rank of lieutenant-colonel. He was too unpredictable, too unorthodox and too cocky when his 'plans came together', especially when most thought they would fall apart. Because of this, Hannibal had a soft-spot for those others like him, others chastised for being a little more than normal, for having something that threatened the standard of acceptance. Each member of the A-Team had that 'something' and for each it was different.

For B.A, it was his 'Bad Attitude' and not simply for getting into fights, the way he spoke was loud and brash and officers just weren't used to being spoken to in that tone, not by anyone, never mind a sergeant. But that's just who B.A was, he meant no disrespect with his tone, his rough around the edges approach and above all else, his honesty is what Hannibal found so refreshing. When you give an order, the last thing you expect is your soldiers to speak back, doubting you, making you second guess yourself, but that's what B.A did when he thought you were talking crazy. What made B.A such a good soldier and even better team player was even though he doubted you, he still followed through, carrying out those orders to the letter, adding his own style of barbaric beauty into the mix and what you had was an unstoppable powerhouse! If the brass had only been able to look past that initial dissent, they would have seen just how good a soldier, how great a man he was. But their loss was Hannibal's gain.

Murdock was one of the best combat pilots in Nam, but to fly with him you felt like each trip would be your last, enemy fire not to blame. No, Murdock loved to show off those skills and while he would never admit it, he really loved to make the new guys loose their lunch. It was a right of passage in his eyes. You weren't a hardened Vietnam veteran until you'd puked on Howling Mad Murdock's ride across the river. The amount of chunks that had been spilled into the waters during those years was likely responsible for the boom in the fish population. It was also the reason Hannibal avoided the BBQ's when it was a fish special.

Only Face escaped Murdock's custom 'chuck it up' tour. Like Hannibal and B.A, Murdock was onto the kid the second he laid eyes on him, and like Hannibal, just wanted to get the kid back home were it was safe. When that didn't happen, all they could do was try and keep him alive, teaching him everything they knew, there when he needed support, building him up, training him and just because he was young didn't mean he got an easy ride either, if anything Hannibal pushed him harder because he had too. There was a reason for the minimum age, no soldier wanted to loose a kid to a war they had no right to be in, but since Face had made it so they had no other choice, Hannibal was going to make sure the kid wasn't going to be a liability. And he hadn't, if anything he had become an asset. Anything the team needed, there it was with a smiling 'Faceman' standing beside, polishing his nails, letting them know who they had to thank. Pretty soon the A-Team was the subject of jealousy, as when most of the troops spent the night in leaky, cold tents, Face had scammed his friends a caravan and once it was fixed up, it had its own hot water and heating system. They'd even covered it with camo-netting just to keep the brass happy.

Hannibal looked across at the kid now, his relaxed features showing the lines and shadows of a grown man, one hardened by war and strife, so much strife. The colonel shook his head and sighed wearily.

"You always did know how to keep us on our toes, kid." He muttered with a fond, but sad smile.

"Really?" The raspy voice asked and Hannibal's sad smile turned into a more sincere one. "You're going to blame me for this?" Face's eyes were mere slits as he struggled to pull himself fully awake.

"Did I say this was your fault?"

"The implication was there," he responded with a smile of his own, wincing when his dry lips cracked and he attempted to moisten them with an equally dry tongue, an unfortunate side effect of the sedatives. Hannibal got up and crossed to sit on the sofa, unscrewing the cap from a bottle of water and producing a straw from his pocket. "You do come prepared," Face quipped before sipping from the straw; his heavy head falling back when he'd drank his fill.

"I blame myself," Hannibal said as Face's eyes started to close, he'd hoped the kid would continue to drift off, but at the muttered self confession, Face renewed his efforts to wake and squinted up at his CO. "I should have acted sooner. I knew something wasn't right…"

"Don't…don't do that to yourself, Hannibal. It's was just a case of… wrong place and wrong time. Like so many other times I can recall." The lieutenant managed a crooked smile and his left hand patted that of his CO's. It was cut and bruised, reminding Hannibal that they needed to be dressed soon as B.A returned with the supplies. Face sighed softly, having drifted off during the colonel's musings. He would be like this for a while until his body rid itself of the medication. The colonel smiled, thinking back on the brief conversation. Face always come across as quite self-centred and it took a long time to realise he was anything but. Despite being through one of the toughest days of his life so far, with barely the strength of a new born kitten, Face had consoled Hannibal. He was anything but selfish.

"Perimeter defences are all set up, colonel." Murdock reported as he came back into the cabin, dusting off his hands. Hannibal nodded and got up from the sofa, dropping a blanket over Face who continued to sleep on. "How's he doing?" The captain asked.

"Better, he came round a minute ago and didn't seem so confused this time."

"That's good, that's good. Maybe the buzzing wasn't as loud as mine." Murdock sat in a nearby chair, still watching Face who hadn't even twitched.

"Well he only had one dose; you however, had a lot more." Hannibal crossed the room to pat Murdock on the shoulder seeing the weary looking man lift his gaze. "Get some sleep, captain."

"No, no, you're gonna need help with Faceman I need to be here."

"B.A and I will manage. That's an order Murdock." Big brown eyes pleaded but finally gave up when the colonel refused to relent and the tall, slim pilot sulked the entire way to one of the twin rooms.

Face laid there, eyes irritated by the light coming in through the open window. He'd been sleeping soundly up until a minute ago when the light from the high noon sun started to beat down on his face, it contradicted the freshness of the air, the kind of aroma that follows a steady downpour, but now as he squinted up at the sky, all he could see was blue.

He sighed, taking in that wonderful aroma, feeling it fill his lungs and clear his head, easing the dull thump he always felt when he'd slept to long. It wasn't like he'd had a choice about that but now he would be suffering for it the rest of the day… which ever day it happened to be. He'd woken up a handful of times, at different points in the days cycle so he knew he'd been laid up a day at least if it was around noon again. It was usually a call of nature, a change of clothes or a drink of water that saw him wake or be woken by a member of the team. He'd done his best to be amicable about the disturbance but the way he had felt on some of the occasions, that was difficult. He felt weaker than a new born baby and it bothered him that he could barely do a thing with out some kind of help, so the guys were often on the wrong end of his temper. He had some apologising to do.

He sighed once again and let his eyes close, the light growing too much to bare. He turned from the window and looked across at the vacant bed on the other side of the small room. Murdock had been his room mate, as usual, since B.A couldn't get any sleep if they bunked together. The muscle man was always too highly strung when Murdock was around, and no one wanted a grumpy B.A.

He was glad he was alone this time he woke, the thought of being watched while he was sleeping just freaked him out. It wasn't that he didn't like his team mates, on the contrary, he cared for them, they were his family, but they were guys! Soldiers! They didn't do all that touchy-feely crap. Though one set of memories oozed through the walls of his mind and came to the fore making him fear for his masculinity. Reaching out for Hannibal's hand, to reassure his friend and CO. It wasn't exactly mushy… it's not like they held hands and looked at each other another deeply in the eyes, right? Right. Their guy status was in no danger. But it was probably best if he couldn't remember…

It was now or never, if he delayed a minute longer he ran the risk of being discovered to be awake and help would ensue. No, he needed to do this himself. With a deep breath and right arm under him as he rolled to swing his feet slowly over the side of the bed, he eased himself into a sitting position. His head thumped a little harder now he was vertical and he could feel a rush of blood drain in a downwards motion making him question the logic of his actions.

The young lieutenant sat still until he felt his body adjust before proceeding to the next phase. To actually stand up. He was just about to push himself forward when the door flew open and there stood Murdock, action figure in hand.

"Face!" The pilot exclaimed excitedly, his expression changing from one of delight surprise to outrage. "What the heck are you doing?"

"Well I was-"

"No, no, no! This won't do! You can't be serious, do you know how badly and easily it can smash if you're not careful with your thought processor." Before Face could fully decode the meaning behind Murdock's rambling, or even protest, the pilot was at Face's side helping him to stand. "Years and years of gathering, soaking up all that precious one time thought-type-stuff and all it takes is one well placed table corner, a hard stone floor and their gone. Like so many marbles out of my lucky marble bag."

"Didn't live up to the name huh?" Face quipped and hung on to Murdock as his insane friend lead him into the sitting area.

"It was a very lucky marble bag actually, one time it was almost run over by a train at a crossing, but a gust of wind blew it out of harms way and back into my pocket, it just wasn't lucky when it came to holding on to those marbles."

"Kinda like your head, fool." B.A stated, followed by a customary glare before he went back to stirring the contents of the metal cooking pot. Murdock paused briefly before finally helping Face into a waiting chair at the dinning table, where Hannibal sat lighting up a cigar.

"Welcome back to the land of the conscious," his CO said with a smile. "You're just in time for lunch." Face felt his stomach flip and it must have shown because Hannibal pre-empted his argument. "You haven't eaten in two days, Face, that's why you feel sick." At that B.A placed half a bowl of chicken soup down in front of him.

"My grandmothers recipe, don't go insulting my grandmother, Face." B.A said gruffly followed by a gentle pat to the lieutenant's shoulder. A gentle as it was, it still hurt some what and the memory of his fall from the vent explained why.

"Thank's B.A," Face said, hoping he hid the discomfort before picking up the spoon from the table. "Two days?" He asked seeing Hannibal nod. "So, it's uh…"

"Friday." Hannibal finished for him, putting out his cigar as his own soup was served.

"Wow, Friday." He plunged the spoon into the soup and stirred it around a little. "No point in calling Colleen to rearrange our date, not since I technically stood her up."

"The guy looses two days, is held against his will and given drugs that knock him on his ass, as his only concern is for the woman?!" B.A practically threw the soup down for Murdock who just grinned back in thanks.

"At least I'm consistent." He argued back seeing B.A smile and shake his head. He was about to taste the soup for the first time when Hannibal put a hand on Face's shoulder and gave a brief squeeze.

"Don't ever change, kid." The colonel said sincerely, catching the smooth talking con-man off guard. All he could do was nod and smile in response as Hannibal's hand dropped back down to his side.

Face glanced around the table, at each of his team mates as they got stuck into the chicken soup. B.A smiling with every mouthful, Murdock making a raft out of the crackers and sailing it in the bowl, while Hannibal, even while he ate, mind ticking away thinking on to their next move. As bad as things had been the worst thing about what happened to him was being kept from them, his friends, his team, now he was back, everything was right with his world.