Pull
by Surreal
E-mail: surreal666@hotmail.com
Website: http://netjeru.ma-at.net/SurrealArts/
Feedback: Don't make me beg...*G*
Status: Complete
Category: Missing scene challenge, angst, hurt/comfort
Rating: PG-13 
Summary: Uncertainty, nothing to lose, and a pull in the right 
direction is all a life needs to become worth fighting for.
Archive: Wherever is appropriate, I guess!
Disclaimer: I wanted them to be mine when I was little, and 
now I can play with them like I always wanted...but at the end 
of the day, I still have to hose them down and give them back.
*sigh*
Notes:  Umm...this is my first A-Team story, but most definitely 
not my first fic of any kind.  I had to wait until the night before 
the challenge was due to write this, because the episode in 
question was on this afternoon - therefore, it's not betaed and 
all characterizations and such are strictly my fault.  Wheeee!


*~*~*~*~*~


Glancing up into the rear view mirror, I make sure we're 
clear before slowing the van down.  "B.A., I need you to take 
over driving.  We're almost to the highway."

Hannibal frowns at me, but doesn't say anything.  I think he 
knows what I need.

Pulling over sharply, I jump out of the driver's side door, 
while B.A. crawls out of the back and we pass each other 
briefly.  I feel one of his big hands pat my shoulder, almost 
a ghost of a touch, but there.  

Carefully, I climb into the back of the van where Murdock 
is laying.  In the fifteen minutes or so ride since we escaped 
from Decker yet again, Tawnia has cut the bandages we used 
to hide Murdock's face off of him, and has put clean ones 
on the bullet wound. 

Tawnia shuts the door, and I kneel next to my lover, taking 
his hand in one of mine.  I feel a frighteningly weak pressure 
given back, telling me that he's only aware enough to know it's 
me there with him.  

"Hey, buddy," I say softly, leaning down close to his ear.  
He turns his head slightly toward mine, his eyelids fluttering 
but staying closed.  I give in to the urge to stroke back his 
hair, the fever sweat making it stick to his forehead.  "We'll 
be gettin' you to some help in no time, okay?  Hannibal knows 
some nice doctors down at the county hospital, some old 
friends we helped a while back; they'll keep us safe, keep us 
out of Decker's sights for a while till we get you fixed up, 
how's that sound?"

Murdock's hand tightens on mine again, and I'm rewarded 
with a tiny smile, just the barest curling of the edges of his 
lips.  "Mmm...you know how much I love hospitals, baby," he 
whispers faintly, nudging my head lightly with his own. 

I could kiss him, I'm so relieved.

And considering how close I am to losing him, I have no 
reason not to.  So I do.

After all we've gone through today to save this man, to the 
point where we turned ourselves over to the very men we 
have been alluding for years, I've come to realize with 
startling clarity just how easily any of us could be killed 
doing what we do.  

So, what's the point in hiding something so wonderful for 
two of us from the few people on the planet in whose hands 
we've put our lives?  We see death and hatred and misery 
on a daily basis - the only thing that we have to live for is 
each other.  In these lives we're forced to lead, why should 
we continue to keep hidden the one spark of life we can 
honestly say is what is keeping us alive?

I told Tawnia today that if Murdock dies, nothing else really 
matters, that my life would be over as well.  It's true - I'll 
never have a lover so loyal, so completely and totally entwined 
with my life as I have in Murdock - and if he were to die, 
I'd be lost.

The lack of reaction from any of our friends tells me, they 
understand better through this simple action what I could 
never have explained with words.

Murdock looks up at me through half-open eyes, question and 
understanding in that look.  He knows what I've just done and 
what it took for me to do it in front of the others.  And he, 
even in his condition, is able to give me support.

I reach up, stroke his hair, rest my forehead against his gently.  
"You're gonna be fine, sweetheart.  Just a little longer, just 
hang on for me.  Love you, *love* you."

His hand in mine squeezes harder than I'd have thought it  
could in his weakened state, and I raise my head just enough to 
meet his eyes.  He smiles shakily.  "Love you, too, Facey.  Not 
gonna leave you, I promise."

I smile back, kiss his warm lips softly again.  Scooting down 
to stretch out next to him, I lay my head on his stomach and 
listen to him breathe.  

He promised, and now I can live.


~*~*~*~*~*~


End.