DISCLAIMER: I don't own The A-Team, of course...

8:00 A.M.

You see, the thing about fear is that it's nothing more than a biological state of mind.

Trust me on that. I know all about states of mind.

Fear comes from heightened chemicals that go shooting through the brain like cars on a raceway. The brain has perceived that there is an immediate danger and ultimate threat to itself, and consequently prepares the body as to protect itself. Muscles tighten. Breathing quickens. The heart beats faster. Kind of like being in love...isn't it weird to realize that the same symptoms you experience for fear you experience for love? There's some sort of psychologibabble for that, but I'm not getting to that right now. Because right now we're talking about fear. And it being a state of mind. Right.

The Vulcans on Star Trek say that they can control their emotions. This means they don't experience fear. This is an outright lie. They experience it. But they don't let it dictate their actions. They can be afraid all the time, and we'll never know it. That Spock is a sneaky old character, yes he is.

Once you realize that you're only afraid because your brain is perceiving a threat, all you have to do is turn off the part that says there's a danger. That's the part that only a select few people in this world can do. Humans don't like to die. They don't like to be hurt, and they don't like to see their friends get hurt and die. But what no one realizes is, that's part of the cycle. We're all running around on a little anthill anyway. It's not just the law of the jungle, ladies and boys. It's the law of life.

Now, I'm not sayin' that turning off the fear response is a good idea. And I'm not sayin' it's easy. You have to be ready to fill that empty hole in your head with something else. Once your brain is no longer screaming "I'M GONNA DIIIIIEEEEE" it's got to have something else goin' for it that'll keep it distracted from the outside stimuli telling it it's goin' to die.

You follow me?

Take notes if you have to.

The point is, if you can't fill your head with something other than "I'M GONNA DIIIIEEEEE," then you're basically without a paddle, if you get my drift. Pun intended. That's the problem I'm havin' right now though. I got nothing else. Years of trainin', preparations, worry, and lookin' the devil in the eye and laughin' at him - and I got nothing else to think about except one foggy, unclear, sickening fact.

They're gonna die.

You see, for someone of my...particular mental capacity, it seems like letting go of reality would be easy. You don't understand. No one does. Not even them. The papers say I'm crazy. But am I really? Would a crazy man form attachments - even friendships - to not just one but three other men? War or no war? What causes friendships? What causes brotherhood? What causes love?

You ponder that while I keep explainin' my situation here.

I'm not able to move. The boat is bobbing, and the wind is pulling at my hair, and the early morning California sun is peeking up over the edge of the buildings in front of me. I can't see past it. The salt air in my nose makes me want to throw up. No...maybe that's the boat bobbing. I'm not sure.

They're gonna die.

I don't know that. That's the sick part. That's why I can't fill my head with anything else. Beethoven. Just the ninth symphony alone should cause enough white noise to fill out the empty pocket of space I'm occupying. I've forgotten how it starts.

Hannibal's gonna die.

He can't. The man doesn't know how to die.

Face's gonna die.

Another impossibility. Face can talk his way out of anything.

B.A.'s gonna die.

At that, I feel a hitch in my throat and a panicked scream wanting to scrape out of my mouth. I close my mouth hard against it, swallow down. It comes back up in a painful burp. "Not possible."

"What's not?" The man next to me speaks. I've forgotten his name. He looks like a rabbi. Should I confess? Should I tell him what's in my mind?

I can't. There's nothing in my mind.

B.A. can't die. He's bulletproof.

CRACK.

My whole body jerks. For a moment, a single wordless scream echoes in my head...the crack pounding off of my eardrums. And then...everything stops. The scream. The sounds. The world whites out. The yammering in my head - the crazy - stops. It's impossible to be crazy when the world as you know it has ended.

And then everything comes back.

I don't think I've ever been so focused in my entire life. I can hear the flapping of birds' wings as they lift off from the whitecaps. The roar of the ocean hurts as much as the sun in my eyes. My senses have gone hyperalert while my mind has completely shut off. My brain has perceived that there was a danger...it has passed...and it doesn't know what has happened.

B.A. is

You see, the thing about fear is that it's nothing more than a biological state of mind that

bulletproof,

with the right stimuli...can be more powerful than the mind it inhabits.

right?

When I watched the court martial episodes of Season Five, let me tell you, I was biting my nails at the very end. The look on Murdock's face when he heard the gunshots is the most intense shot of the series I have experienced.