Disclaimer: no recognizable characters are mine. No harm, no foul.

Notes: Yes, another fill for a prompt on the LJ A-Team Meme. And the prompt is: One of Murdock's alter egos just happens to be Gandalf after he's read Lord of the Rings in the VA.

some notes: 1.) Although I typically stick to the movie!verse, this is set in the TV!verse due to the "VA" requirement of the prompt; 2.) in spite of that, I've muddled with time a bit; 3.) I HATE IT when the staff at the VA hospital call him MISTER Murdock; 4.) this is much more melancholy than I originally intended.

B.A. didn't often go inside when Face sprung Murdock out of the VA.

The antiseptic smell was killer. And he didn't want the crazy to rub off on him; lord knows what with the things he saw in 'Nam he was surprised anyone made it out sane.

But Face asked him to help—some kind of new scam to get their pilot, and he needed B.A. to act as an orderly from a different hospital to give credence to him being a doctor transferring Murdock for some additional testing. B.A. reluctantly agreed, which was how he found himself walking through the hallways behind Faceman, pretending everything was normal and cool.

Nothing was normal and cool about Murdock.

Even before the nurse—a petite thing even B.A. thought was cute, but then less cute as she succumbed to Face's smarmy charm—opened the door to their pilot's room, they could hear him talking.

"Someone else in there with him?" B.A. asked.

"Nooo," the nurse hedged, drawing out the word.

"That's fine, that's fine," Doctor Face said jovially.

At his reassurance, the nurse unlocked the door. As it creaked open, Murdock bellowed,

"YOU SHALL NOT PASS!"

All three of them jumped.

"What the—" B.A. started.

The nurse shrugged apologetically. "The patients are allowed . . . they're actually encouraged to read books, as long as they don't destroy them. Mr. Murdock has been absolutely absorbed lately . . ."

"I am a servant of the Secret Fire, wielder of the Flame of Anor. The dark fire will not avail you, Flame of Udun! Go back to the shadow. You shall not pass!" Murdock had continued from inside his room.

Face nodded as if this made perfect sense. "Thank you, Nurse Flynn. We'll take it from here."

B.A. wasn't sure he wanted to take anything from here.

The two of them slipped into the room. Typically at least neat, the private room was strewn with several books opened to various places. The shades were drawn and the overhead light was out, giving the room a light grayish cast.

Murdock stood behind the bed, wearing a blanket tied around his neck. He'd fashioned some type of hat—floppy but pointy on top—out of additional materials; in the dim light it was difficult to determine exactly how he'd managed to convert his beloved baseball cap into something like that. He mimed holding something upright in his hand.

"He pretends to have a staff," the nurse whispered to Face and B.A., who were frozen just inside the door. "Patients aren't allowed to actually have items that could be used as weapons—of course you know that, Doctor, I apologize—"

"Be silent!" Murdock roared at the nurse. "Keep your forked tongue behind your teeth! I did not pass through fire and death to bandy crooked words with a witless worm!"

"That's not respectful, Mr. Murdock," Nurse Flynn admonished gently. "We've talked about being respectful in therapy."

Murdock's eyes blazed, but after a moment he dropped his gaze and mumbled something to himself.

B.A. watched the scene with undisguised disbelief. He wasn't an actor like his teammates. He couldn't maintain the illusion that, as an orderly at a different psychiatric hospital, this was commonplace and mundane. Sure, Faceman had told him how Murdock acted while in here, but come on now . . . seriously?

Face cleared his throat too, an obvious sign to B.A. that he was surprised by Murdock as well. The conman rubbed his palms together—another non-verbal tell he was reworking his scam in his head to accommodate the situation—and said,

"Ah yes. Captain Murdock has channeled Dumbledore, I see? From Harry Potter?"

The nurse twittered, which grated on B.A.'s nerves. "Oh no, Doctor. You need to brush up on your fantasy literature. That's Gandalf the Grey over there."

Several things clicked into place for B.A. He'd seen the movies, and thought, "Crazy fool would be Gandalf the White if this stupid place had blankets that weren't Army surplus!" to himself with a grin. He kept that thought inside, though; it was the kind that got you locked up in a place like this.

"I've other patients to attend to, Doctor. I'll have the appropriate paperwork at the desk for your transfer. When you're ready," Nurse Flynn added, and left the two of them standing in a darkish room with Murdock.

The three of them stood looking at each other a moment while the sounds of her footsteps retreated down the hall.

When she'd gone far enough that Face judged she couldn't overhear them, Face grinned.

"Hey buddy, good to see you again. Ready to blow this joint?"

Murdock watched him, his eyes bright under the brim of his hat.

"Murdock?" Face said, stepping further into the room.

Murdock didn't say anything, although the loosely held fist approximating gripping a wooden staff flexed, as if squeezing it more tightly.

B.A. stayed near the door.

Face tried again. "Murdock, buddy. We've got a job—Hannibal's really on the jazz this time, been working out this unbelievable scheme! It's out in Las Vegas, so we don't have to go too far. I know you prefer the country, but it'll be nice to just get out, huh? Come on, we'll fill you in on it in the van."

Murdock didn't move.

Face rubbed his hands together again. In the now eerily silent room, the sound of dry skin on skin was loud.

Face hadn't said anything about this, B.A. thought to himself. Usually it's just a bit of play acting, he said, some slight-of-hand and diversion to trick the staff here, and they're free and clear; Face has never mentioned having to deal with a crazy dressed up fool who doesn't even respond—

—but wait. There have been times Hannibal's told Faceman to spring Murdock, and the pilot doesn't return with him . . . Face always blamed it on savvy nurses or security, and they did those jobs with one fourth of their team missing. That hadn't bothered B.A. much; sure, he liked the crazy fool in small doses, but sometimes he was just too much . . . Had Face been lying? Had he been using his arsenal of conman deceptions against them? Did Hannibal know?

Face threw one glance back at B.A. Even with all his talents and charm, he still couldn't read minds so he didn't know what the black man was thinking now. However, B.A. could see the subtle dismay in the conman's expression.

Turning back to Murdock, Face's voice dropped to a level of cautious tenderness B.A. hadn't ever heard him use before.

"How're you doing, Gandalf?" he asked.

Murdock visibly brightened.

"From the lowest dungeon to the highest peak I fought with the Balrog of Morgoth, until at last I threw down my enemy and smote his ruin upon the mountainside!" he answered feverishly, as if reliving the battle. "Darkness took me! I strayed out of thought and time. The stars wheeled overhead, and every day was as long as a life age of the earth . . . but it was not the end. I felt life in me again! I've been sent back until my task is done."

B.A. watched Face nod slowly as the pilot spoke. He also saw Face's shoulders drop just a bit.

"That's good, buddy," Face murmured, his voice still soft. "I'm glad to hear it."

Murdock waited, and waited.

Face cleared his throat. "We have our own job to do, Murdock. Our own Balrog to defeat—"

"Ah," interrupted Murdock, in his understanding.

"And just knowing that you bested yours is enough to help us. Thank you, buddy. We'll see you later, okay?"

Murdock nodded sagely. "Yes. Be on your guard. As you know, there are older and fouler things than Orcs in the deep places of the world."

Face nodded. "Thank you."

B.A. got the distinct impression Face would have hugged the other man if he wasn't standing here.

"Take care, Gandalf. We'll see you soon."

Face's voice was still soft, but almost cracked. He turned away from Murdock, back towards B.A. B.A. still didn't say anything; no words came to mind and wouldn't know how to say it anyway. The two of them made to leave.

"Fly, you fools!" Murdock whispered in the dark behind them.

B.A. didn't know if he meant to give them a warning to leave before they were caught, or if he was giving them instructions for the job they were about to undertake. Face didn't say anything as he brushed passed to get back into the hallway. B.A. raised his hand to Murdock, muttered a goodbye, and followed.

Face closed the door tightly behind them and took a deep breath. B.A. sensed he was going to say something, but was interrupted by the same nurse who let them in.

"Problem, Doctor?"

The demoralized cast to his face melted to one of professional concern. Doctor Face replied,

"I don't believe Captain Murdock is quite ready for this trial, Nurse Flynn. His new delusion complicates things, and it would be best for him to receive more therapy here, in his familiar environment, for the time being. Maybe, once this fantasy is gone—"

"Oh, don't worry!" Nurse Flynn chuckled, waving her hand to brush away the concern. Her laugh was more annoying now. "Mr. Murdock shuffles through personas like shuffling a deck of cards. He'll be back to himself or Abraham Lincoln or Nikola Tesla before you know it! Should I give you a call?"

"No, thank you," Face mumbled quietly, the carefully constructed fake character slipping a bit. "I'll check in on him again soon."

"All right. I hope to see you then."

She sounded hopeful too, in the way that women always sounded hopeful around Face. For once, B.A. didn't think Face noticed it. The conman nodded absently and started off down the hallway, back towards the door leading out of the facility.

B.A. started to follow, then stopped and turned on the nurse.

"It's Captain Murdock."

She looked up from her clipboard. Her brow wrinkled as she asked, "What?"

"It's Captain Murdock. Not "Mister." He's a Captain, and your patient, and you should be respectful."

The nurse gawped at him for a second, but before she could formulate a reply B.A. spun back around on his heel and continued following Face, who was waiting at the end of the corridor. They left together.

The two of them were silent until they got to the van.

Once buckled into the passenger seat, Face said, "Don't tell Hannibal."

He spoke to his hands in his lap. When B.A. didn't reply quickly, he looked up and added,

"I think he knows. I think he knows that sometimes Murdock can't come with us, and why. But he's never said anything, so I don't say anything . . . it's like giving Murdock some privacy, some dignity, even if he isn't aware of it. Okay?"

It took another second for B.A. to find his voice. "Yeah. Yeah, Faceman. Okay."

Face nodded, and looked out the window as B.A. pulled the van into traffic.

"Fly, you fools," Murdock had said, and for once, for real, B.A. wished Murdock could.

fin.