johnnypenn (johnnypenn) wrote,

Dogpatch - Chapter 6

The Dogpatch


Fandom – The A-Team


Disclaimer – I do not own the A-Team characters. I do not make any money off this piece of fiction; this is strictly for my amusement.


Pairing – H-BAMF


Rating – R/NC17


Summary – AU – First Lieutenant Templeton Peck finds himself in a pickle. He’s the only officer in the POW camp, nicknamed by the American’s Dogpatch – which is run by the most famous Traitor Hannibal Smith and his crew. It’s not easy to plan an escape and to keep this certain Colonel off your back, literally and figuratively.


Historical Notes- Dogpatch is a real POW camp that is based near the China-Vietnamese boarder. It’s a good place because at the time the people who ran the camp built it there because they knew that American policy wasn’t going to conduct any operations in that area. So, it fits my AU story line quite perfectly.


ANOTHER NOTE – Vietnamese take their names seriously. Tuan = Bright and Tu’ = Star. So Bright Star.



Chapter 6 – Scary Demons



   Pain shifted slowly, like crawling spider legs, across his back. He thought he could feel blood oozing across his skin as well and he followed this feeling – mapping it out in his head – as he slowly came awake. Hannibal was spooning him from behind and Templeton could feel the older man’s morning erection. The pain distracted him from sudden feelings of lust. Whatever pain relieving goop Murdock had swathed his injuries in had worn off. If he moved, it’d be a feat for him not to cry.


   There was soft breath on the back of his neck and the arms gently hugged him closer. He gritted his teeth as pressure invaded across his back. Hannibal seemed to know this and came awake instantly. He moved slowly, trying not to jostle his prisoner.


   “Good morning, Tem,” he smiled gently as he sat against the headboard of the bed.


   Sun light slanted its way through the room and Templeton could hear Murdock and BA going at it from outside. The white curtain moved in the breeze, showing the two were coming their way.


   “Morning,” he managed but didn’t move. It hurt far too much. Soft fingers in his hair had Templeton closing his eyes. Then Murdock and BA marched in.


   “I’m telling you BA, I didn’t steal your sock!” Murdock said. He set down a tray of bandages and other things on the bedside table nearest Templeton. He ginned up at Hannibal as Templeton moved slightly to pull the sheets closer around him. Blue eyes met brown and Murdock patted Templeton’s arm softly. “You okay, Muchacho?”


   “Yeah, I’m fine,” Templeton nodded. Hannibal still ran his fingers through bright, blond hair.


   BA put a huge tray of food on Hannibal’s desk. He brought over a cup of coffee for the Colonel; “I’m going to be making those manacles today, boss,” BA said.


   “Good, because we have to go to Waterloo for a few days,” Hannibal didn’t look happy about the outing. He sipped his coffee as Murdock helped Templeton to sit up. He snipped away the bandages that’d been soiled by blood during the night. They came away slowly because of scabbing and the injuries started bleeding anew, only not as bad as the night before.


   “I’m sorry it hurts so much,” Murdock whispered into Templeton’s ear.


   “It’ll be all right,” Templeton replied because – even though he knew he shouldn’t feel mad – he just couldn’t find it within himself to be angry with Murdock who gave him those wide, puppy eyes. It felt too much like kicking a lame puppy down a storm drain. Anyone who did that deserved to be shot.


Templeton smiled slightly at Murdock. “I deserved it, so don’t feel bad, okay?”


Murdock managed a small nod and began bathing the wounds. After he was done putting on the jungle goop and bandaging him up again, BA handed him and Murdock their cups of coffee. Templeton decided to enjoy it as much as possible.


“Tem,” Hannibal smoked nonchalantly beside him, “what made you run?” he asked.


“That’s a loaded question, Colonel,” Murdock mused.


“Let the man answer the question, fool!” BA demanded.


Templeton sighed; “I was scared,”


A beat of silence.


He gave Hannibal a sideways glance, “what? that’s all there is to it,”


“Scared of what?” Hannibal asked.


Now there is a loaded question, Templeton mused. “I don’t…know,” he sighed, “I know I should be afraid of you, but I’m more worried about Tuan Tu’ and then there’s Hendrickson. Oh, I’m not scared of him, only careful. He has one explosive temper and it’s not fun to get a beating from him. So, I guess I would have to say that I was more afraid of my demons in my nonexistent closet than I am of you,”


“Demons are not fun, Muchacho,” Murdock shook his head in utter understanding of the younger mans aspirations of his mental stability.


“Why do you think you aren’t scared of me? I did have you whipped last night?” Hannibal asked.


“I don’t know. I guess it’s because I don’t think you’d kill me,” Templeton finally looked up at them all, “I don’t think any of you would. I don’t know why you are treating me differently, but, I wonder if it has to do with something you lost and some how I represent that…” he blinked, and shut up.


Hannibal finished his cigar before rolling out of bed and beginning to dress. Then, out of a wooden crate stashed in the corner he pulled out more clothing. He gently tossed them to Templeton. “I’ve got a lot of work to do today, so you be good for Murdock and BA,” he didn’t bother to get a reply before striding out of the hut, breakfast forgotten behind him.


Murdock sighed; “he did lose someone important,”


“Murdock…” Templeton cocked his head to side, “maybe he should tell me, if he wants,”


Murdock nodded. Of course it was Hannibal’s to tell. It wasn’t anything dangerous – and it wouldn’t put Templeton in danger if he didn’t know.


“Come on! I want to show you the barn!” he helped Templeton to dress quickly, he retired the rope – tightly so that Templeton didn’t try another escape attempt – and dragged the young man with him across the court yard and to the barn.


BA growled after them; “you need to eat, fools!”


Murdock gave BA his best “I’m sorry” look. Templeton bowed his head, trying to be as none threatening as possible. BA stomped up to them. He pointed back to the hut. “Both of you go back and eat!” – the two scampered off, with Murdock pulling Templeton by his bound wrists.




Hendrickson awoke to yelling and scrambling. The tall, black man was yelling at his compatriot and their pet. He sneered to himself. Morrison was right, bringing Peck along was a brilliant distraction – and it had worked. Hendrickson hadn’t thought Hannibal and his lackey’s would take to the boy. He thought for sure they’d use him as a fuck-toy and when they were done take him out into the jungle and shoot him.


But – it seemed that they were after something more. Which worked just fine for him. He had no need of Hannibal beyond the mission parameters.




The Secretary, a blond buxom young thing, handed the fax over to General Morrison as soon as he entered the office that morning. Delta Base was in the midst of preparations for pulling out. He didn’t have much time before his chopper left, with or without him.


   To M


                  Mission failed. Repeat. Mission Failed.


      From F


Morrison crumples the fax.






“It’s a work of art, BA!” Murdock says appreciatively. He gasps at the glint of sun off bright metal cuffs. They are made precisely to Templeton’s measurements. Between them are twenty links of chain interwoven for durability. BA hands them over to Hannibal who gently unties the rope that’d bound Templeton all day – and then, he fits one cuff to a wrist. It is flat and measure two inches. The lock clicks shut. It’s a very nice lock built into the manacles. Templeton decides that he needs a good five to ten minutes to pick these locks. Hannibal fits the second cuff to wrist and when it locks as well – a loud series of clicking in the awes silence – he stands back.


Templeton tugs on the chains, he tries to see if he can wiggle out of them without breaking his hands. Then, his hands are gripped by older, callused hands and Templeton looks up into Hannibal’s eyes and he sees something there he doesn’t think he deserves. How could this man do this to him? he was supposed to be a captive. They were supposed to treat him horribly, make him hate them.


He looks down and he feels the tears coming on and he tries to hold them back. The manacles meant something more to them than he had expected, for even BA and Murdock had come close and just their proximity made him realize that they had been looking for something, but that he wasn’t a replacement. He was something important to them, he was also different.


“I know its short notice, kid,” Hannibal’s tone is soft but doesn’t grumble any less.


“The Jungle is just so lonely sometimes,” Murdock gives him the puppy eyes.


“And sometimes this fool is right,” BA wants to be gentle, though sometimes its hard for him to show it.


“I can’t…I just can’t…” and he is not sobbing. No, he will deny reality. Even if he does feel water leaking from his eyes and the stronger men around him putting their arms around him as if he’d been there the entire time. It feels as if he is wanted.


He feels Loved.


And that’s what scares him.









Tags: au, ba, faceman, h-bamf, hannibal, murdock, the a-team, vietnam

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