johnnypenn (johnnypenn) wrote,

The Dogpatch - ALTERNATE CH 6

This is an alternate chapter 6 which I'll be working off from now on. It's kinda short though. I just wanted to fix the story.

- - -

The Dog Patch




Disclaimer – I do not own these characters. I make no money off this fan fiction.


Pairing – Eventual H-Bamf


Rating – R/NC17


Warnings – War time Violence, sex and possibly some kink


Summary – AU – Templeton Peck is mistaken for a world renowned spy. He is stuck in a prison camp to be trained as a secret weapon of the A-Team, who are Traitors to America.



Alternate Chapter 6 –


                Hannibal woke to an empty bed. A quick glance around the hut had him spying his prisoner who stood on the porch, watching the sun rise. The bandages were brown with dried blood and needed changing. Normally, they wouldn’t have bothered, however, seeing as how their prisoner was Faceman, they couldn’t give him a chance. Hannibal knew he had to start the training as soon as possible.


                He rose from the bed and pulled on his pants. Then he crossed the hut. Sun light slowly crawled across the court yard outside. It was early, and yet he could hear the banging of pots from the Mess Hut. He put a hand on Templeton’s shoulder. “On your knees,” and the boy knelt easily. Either he knew he hadn’t a choice or it was a ploy. Hannibal believed it was a ploy. The boy was horribly submissive, except for the lame escape attempt the night before.


                Yes, he thought, the boy was trying to put him into a sense of security and that was exactly what Hannibal would have done so why not just assume it. Now, his problem more pressing was how to retrain the boy. The CIA would have spent a lot of money and time on him, making him learn talents that may come in handy. Hannibal decided it was best to assume that the boy knew more than he let. Like picking locks. He made a note to himself to keep any and all locks away from Templeton Peck.


                “Who do you work for?” Hannibal asked.


                “No one,” Templeton replied dully, as if he was there but not there at the same time. He was trying to come to terms with the situation.


                “Who do you work for?” he asked more forcefully.


                “You know who I work for,” Templeton hissed.


                Hannibal grabbed a handful of blond hair; “I’m going to get answers from you, kid, one way or another,” face to face with Templeton now and he feels heat going from his toes. The feeling shivers through his veins and clumps in his cock. Templeton glares up at him.


                “I don’t care,” he replied, “you can break your promise to me about not raping me. I won’t tell you anything,” Templeton growled that last.


                “All right, Kid,” Hannibal pushed him a bit and let go of the hair. He stood at full height, “I love a good challenge,” he muttered.




                The whip hit Hendrickson’s back. Templeton knelt on the ground a few feet away, sporadically getting sprayed with Hendrickson’s blood. The man shrieked in pain and begged for mercy. Templeton stared into the compound, not saying anything, almost not seeing anything. He tried to tune out Hendrickson’s cries as well. Hannibal had gone from being the nice guy to a bad guy in two point seconds.


                Templeton wasn’t going to let Hannibal use his skills against his country. He had more honor than that and if Hendrickson knew what was good for him, he’d shut up. The whip halted and Hendrickson blabbered insanely from the stake. They’d lashed him in a parody of a crucifixion. His broken arm was in a cast that was tied to his side. The lashes had made a mess of his back. BA took him down.


                Then they traded places. Templeton’s arms were splayed on the arms and lashed with rope; and then his middle and ankles. He couldn’t move away from the whip as it landed harshly on his back. He gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. He counted each strike.








                This isn’t cool – his inner voice whined.


                When he found that voice, he swore to kick it in the ass. No, seriously! There is something wrong…the voice continued. I dunno what but…don’t you think they’d do better torturing Hendrickson?


                And why hadn’t he thought of that? Hannibal thought Templeton knew what was going on; Hendrickson had made him believe that. Templeton either could let it go one like this, or turn it on the two of them. Well…why not?


                It’s worth a try…*shrugs*


                “Morrison!” Templeton yelled.


                The whipping stopped.


                “What’d you say, boy?” BA asked.


                “It’s Morrison, he…sent us,” and Templeton dropped into blackness.

Tags: alternate chapter, au, ba, faceman, hannibal, murdock, pow camp, vietnam

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