"IT"

by the Chronicler

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Ch 6-- "ANYTHING"

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"Damn it!" Face cursed. He threw his empty duffel bag across the room to land amongst clothes he had tossed over his shoulder.

It was gone. It was all gone.

His pocket knife, his boot knife, his straight edge, his cheap razors, his pocket scissors, his nail clippers and file... Hell, even his damn pencil sharpener was gone!

Gone! All gone!

Grinding his teeth, he managed to growl "B.A." Of course, B.A. had taken his bag. Why else would he have taken it? He must have taken it all.... even the little shard of glass he had hidden in the cuff of his jeans.

The big, black mud sucker didn't leave him ANYTHING.

And just when he needed something.... needed ANYTHING... for just a little prick... just a little pain, a little blood, a little reality check.

With a tired sigh, Face dropped down on his bed. He looked out the window at the pale light of early morning.

He didn't see the beautiful sunrise, or the wonderful evergreen forest, or the crystal lake.

He saw a glass window, something that could be broken and turned into many, many sharp objects that he could use...

Face looked away. He couldn't break the window. Hannibal would hear and be busting in before he could do ANYTHING. And, then the whole damn mess would be topic of the day... again!

If he could just find something sharp... ANYTHING sharp... he could just get rid of some of these shadows, this damn graffiti in his head. he could focus again, smile again, forget all about it...

Until next time...

Next time was next time. Right now he just needed, Damn it all to hell, HE NEEDED IT!



With a groan, he fell across the bed and threw an arm over his eyes.

He just needed ANYTHING...

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Murdock leaned his head back against the wall and closed his eyes. It was finally quite in there, in his Facey's room. No more opening drawers, or squeaking closet doors, or the soft sound of clothes being tossed about...

Okay, he couldn't really hear the cloth hit the floor, but he knew it was and that was all he needed to hear it through the door.

Hannibal crouched down beside him. "Hey, Captain, don't you think you should be getting some sleep?" he asked softly.

Murdock opened his eyes and looked up at his Colonel. "He was lookin', Hannibal. Even after he told me he wouldn't, he was lookin'." he whispered, his eyes shiny with unshed tears.

Hannibal sighed. He reached out and gently squeezed the pilot's shoulder.

"What if we missed something? What if he finds something?" Murdock wanted to know. "He could use ANYTHING!"

"We didn't miss anything, Murdock." Hannibal assured him.

Murdock sighed and leaned his head back once again. "Why isn't it enough, Hannibal?"

The Colonel frowned. "Why isn't what enough?"

"Every time I think lala land is gonna eat me up and keep me, Facey pops in through my window and make all the nightmares go away. I love him so much, Hannibal." he breathed. "Why can't I chase his nightmares away? Why can't our love be enough?"

Hannibal stared at him for a long, silent moment. Then he adjusted himself until he was sitting beside his Captain. "I wondered that myself. Why can't I protect him? Why can't I give him something better to do than hurt himself? Why can't I just fix it, fix everything for him?" He shook his head. "In the end, Murdock, it has nothing to do with you or me. It is all Face and how and what he thinks of himself. We can tell him and show him how much we care, be there for him 24/7... but it won't matter an ounce until he starts being there for himself."

Murdock looked up at him with those big, brown innocent eyes of his. "Then what can we do?"

Hannibal shrugged. "We keep pounding it in until he finally gets it: we love him and we are not going to let him hurt himself." With that, he pushed himself to his feet and offered a hand down to Murdock. "Sleep, Captain. We have a hell of a fight ahead of ourselves and we are going to need every bit of sleep we can get while we can get it."

Murdock looked up at him. With a tired sigh, he reached up and took the offered hand and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

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Face listened to the door a moment longer before turning and leaning against the door.

Damn, he didn't mean to mess with H.M. God, he'd do anything for that man, anything! Anything to protect him, to keep him safe, keep him sane...

And here he is, screwing him up. Like H.M. didn't have enough, fighting his own insanity, that Face had to pile his own shit on top of it.

His chest began to constrict. Face squeezed his eyes closed, feeling his own body crushing in around him. Feeling the air so thick around him, too thick.

Face bounced his head against the door. "God, I need it!" he hissed through clenched teeth. "ANYTHING!"

Spinning about, he yanked the door open. After a quick glance told him the hall was empty, he rushed out.

He didn't know how, or even when, he had gotten there, but when he looked around, Templeton Peck found himself in the kitchen, digging through the drawers.

Angrily he stopped himself, shaking his head. 'Course there wasn't ANYTHING in here! Hannibal was too good for that.

Even as the world was crashing down around him, Face was able to assure himself that Colonel John Hannibal Smith would not miss ANYTHING!

His fists clenched with frustration until his knuckles turned white.

Hannibal always succeeded at everything. He always won, no matter how outrageous, ingenious, or idiotic. Always got everything and ANYTHING he ever wanted. And he sure as hell wanted his lieutenant to stop...



Face's mind froze. His eyes latched onto a spoon, pretty and shiny, sparkling like a polished gold nugget on the counter before him.

Hannibal was a great leader. His first and foremost lesson had always been that they could do ANYTHING. With a little ingenuity and a little work, they could be ANYTHING, do ANYTHING, make ANYTHING...

ANYTHING to blow the enemy out of the water.

ANYTHING to escape a trap.

ANYTHING to fly through the air.

Face snatched up the spoon and held it close to his chest like the most precious, the most prized, possession god could of possibly laid out before his child. Already the pressure was easing.

ANYTHING to cut!