Chapter Text
Murdock hadn’t always been crazy. Well, not like everyone seemed to think he was. He knew he wasn’t normal any more, if he ever had been. It wasn’t much at first. Just…after that first firefight, the nightmares had started. They got worse after the CIA op a couple weeks ago, which he honestly couldn’t remember. It ruined the sleep he got, and when he was awake, his brain didn’t feel all there sometimes. Most times. But he was good at dealing with that. He used to daydream all day every day. School was easy, so he daydreamed, but he knew how to pay attention. He knew what to do and when. But his brain was still gone. That probably wasn’t good, so he started trying to bring it back. Accents had always been fun. A new accent could make his brain come back, until it didn’t. Then he started doing character voices. Those helped a lot. They also annoyed people, a lot.
But it was okay. His friends didn’t mind. BA pretended to complain, but even he knew how much they helped Murdock. Hannibal and Face even joined in sometimes. It was good. As good as it could be hundreds of miles from home. He liked his friends. But he sure did miss Grams and Gramps, especially with Christmas Eve being tomorrow. One of Bobby Vinton’s songs flashed through his head, and he sang along.
“~Lonely, I’m Mr. Lonely, I have nobody to call my own, that’s why I’m Lonely, Mr. Lonely, I wish that I could go back hoooome~” He knew he was mixing up the verses, but he didn’t care. Music, in his opinion, was meant to be changed to suit one’s needs.
“Whatchu doin’, fool?”
Murdock looked up from where he scribbled away. The paper in front of him held a fairly okay sketch of his A-team buddies. It would never get home in time for Christmas, but he’d send it anyway.
“Oh, nothin’, big guy.”
BA rolled his eyes and pulled out the walkie talkie he’d been dismantling. Really, he was re-mantling by now, but you really couldn’t tell. The guy really wanted to know how everything worked. He’d even pulled apart and fixed Murdock’s watch when it stopped working last week.
Murdock put the finishing touches on his creation. Voila. Perfect. He really thought he had captured the guys’ essences. He carefully folded it, slipping it gently into the envelope with his letter, which read:
Dear Grams and Gramps,
I’ve been missing you both something awful. I wish I could come home for Christmas. But don’t be too sad! I have friends. BA, Faceman, and Hannibal. They’re in the picture I drew. Grams, I’ll probably have pie, even though it’s hard to get. Face is good at getting things. And Gramps, the watch you gave me broke, but BA fixed it. Oh, and I’ll make sure to do our yearly game of poker. It’ll have to be with the guys, but you play with Grams and it’ll be like we’re playing together, okay? Take care of each other, you hear?
Lots of Love,
H.M.
It wasn’t long, and it skipped over basically everything that was happening - he didn’t even want to mention the nightmares - but it would do. Sealing the envelope had a sort of finality to it that Murdock frowned at. He didn’t usually feel that. Sealing an envelope was fine, impermanent even. It was just waiting to be torn open somewhere else. But this time…Murdock shook it off just as Hannibal and Face got back from whatever meeting they’d just gone to. Some planning thing or another. Technically Murdock should have gone, since he outranked Face, but he really didn’t like those things, so he’d deputized Face to be his stand in. All the better for everyone. Murdock was pretty sure the higher ups thought he was weird.
“Hey, Facey, think you could get this mailed for me? I know it won’t get there in time for Christmas, but—“ Murdock noticed, then, the grave expressions on their faces. It didn’t look good on the colonel. It looked entirely wrong on Face. Face wasn’t supposed to look like that. The other young man took a seat and slung an arm over Murdock’s shoulders. Murdock raised a brow at him, but accepted it. He’d discovered over the last couple of months that Face wasn’t overly touchy with anyone who wasn’t female, but he’d been coming around on hugs, which Murdock was honestly very grateful for.
“What’s wrong, Hannibal?” BA asked in his brisk way, like the words would disappear if he thought about them for too long.
“Two things,” Hannibal said after taking a long, deep breath. “We have a mission—“
“But it’s Christmas!” BA protested.
“I know. But there’s a specialist that’s been captured, and we need to get him back before he spills his guts. He’s got essential intel for the general. And the second thing…” Hannibal trailed off, looking forlornly at Murdock.
“What? Do I have to stay back or something?”
“Murdock…” Face said. He leaned closer and the pilot gave him a bewildered look.
“You know I never mind a hug, Facey, but what’s gotten into you? You haven’t been like this since…you know. Did one of you…no, wait, you’re all here. Unless one of ya’s a ghost.” Murdock poked Face in the chest. “You’re not a ghost, are you?”
“Heh, no.” That was barely a laugh with barely a smile to accompany it.
“Okay, guys, seriously, you’re stressin’ me out. Will you just get on with it?”
“Captain.” Hannibal pulled an open letter out of his pocket. “We might have peeked at your mail.”
“Oh, is that what all this is? That’s fine, I don’t care,” Murdock laughed as he pulled out the note. It was from Jemima May, the lady that ran the general store back home. She sent him letters sometimes, as she did every boy who went into the service. “Ah, good ol’ Jemima. Probably writing to let me know that Miss Hildy and the Pratchett’s boy are finally gettin’ married.”
The others just silently watched until Murdock rolled his eyes and read the letter to himself.
Dearest H.M.,
You’re such a wonderful, sweet, strong boy. I have some news, but before you find out what it is, I want you to know that all of us at home are here for you, and I hope that you have good friends with you. Lean on them if you can.
Well, that didn’t bode well.
I’m writing to let you know that your Grams and Gramps have passed away. As you know, Henry’s been in poor health for a while now. He passed on December 1st. Emma passed a few days after. They both loved you so much, and I’m going to say on their behalf that we know you are going to go on and do great things with your life. I’m going to write you every week from now on, just as they did. And when you get back, know you always have a place in my home.
In brighter news, Hildy and Tucker Pratchett are getting married next month. They make a lovely couple.
Love,
Jemima May
P.S. Little Lacey May says hello.
Murdock finished reading, then stared at nothing for a minute. Huh. Face moved so he was full-on hugging him.
“Well, I guess it’s good we have something to do.” Murdock shrugged, Face’s arms moving with him. “My first Christmas without Grams and Gramps will just be another day.”
“Murdock,” said Face, “even I know that can’t be easy.”
“Yeah, well…what is there to do? They raised me, and they’re not there any more.” Murdock let out a single, dry laugh, one hand finding the letter he was gonna send. “I guess there’s no point to sending this now.”
“We’ll do something,” said BA. “My mama always sends my Christmas package early, I’ve already got it, and I know she sent stuff for each of ya. And we’ll…we’ll do something. We can do somethin’ t’ remember your grandparents.”
“Nah. It’s okay.” Murdock shook his head and wriggled out of Face’s arms. Almost wriggled right back in when he saw Face’s heartbroken expression, but he just really didn’t want to be touched right now. “Don’t bother on my account. It’s fine.”
“No, I don’t think it is,” Hannibal quietly replied.
“Hannibal, it’s fine. I’m not gonna be happy about it, but it is what it is. I can’t change it.” Murdock began rifling through his things. Or, rather, Hannibal’s things. They were all once again in the colonel’s quarters. They seemed to find themselves there more often than their own. “We should get ready to go.”
“Murdock—“
“Please, guys, just give me a minute. I’m fine.” At their looks, he rephrased, “I’ll be fine. Can we just get this mission over with?”
“Okay.” Hannibal patted him on the shoulder, a grim look still on his face. “You’re a good man.”
“Crazy, ya mean,” BA muttered. Murdock pretended not to hear. Sometimes, those comments hit a little harder than they should, and this was one of those times.
“We leave first thing in the morning. Try to get some shut-eye.”
“Sure, Colonel.” Murdock led the way back to the barracks, where he flopped onto his bunk and immediately fell asleep.