So you want to be free? This was a frequently asked question in the mind of young B.A Baracus. He always focused it towards his leader Hannibal. So far he hadn't worked up the courage to ask out loud.
When they first git captured by the VC Hannibal had reassured them all that he would get them out. In the first few weeks B.A could see the wheels in Hannibals head working up a plan to get them out. However, Hannibal has been really quiet. B.A could tell that Hannibal wasn't working on a way out anymore. He was thinking about survival.
The camps had broke them all, but B.A was starting to loose faith in his leader. B.A shouldn't be so angry woth Hannibal, he was starting to think that they weren't getting out of here. At least not alive.
It was heartbreaking for B.A to see his team slowly falling apart.
Hannibal had give up trying to escape. It was as if the jazz was just a dream from long ago.
Faceman had started to shake sometimes and often curled up in the coner, sutbley crying with Murdock's arm wrapped around his shoulders like a protective older brother.
Poor Murdock. B.A knew that he was on the wilwild side and not completely sane, but now he was seeing things that was not there and mumbling to himself.
The scars from the beatings would heal. But the memories. They would scar them forever.