a/n: this is my first A-Team, so I hope you enjoy. So this fic isn't established anywhere really, it just sorta is. Parnassus (Percy) Peck is my character, and his relationship with Face is established. —
Parnassus Peck hated to play the victim, but at times it came with the job description.
The surrounding room was dark and dingy, smelling of wet dirt with a hint of mold. The table in which he was strapped was a cold metal, uncomfortable against some of his exposed flesh. He didn't mind it though, nor the straps that held him to the table, or the one tightly across his forehead.
He looked from the corner of his eye as the boss of his captors stalked passed him, his foot steps heavy on the dirt floor. Parnassus plastered a fearful expression in his face, even though he felt quite the opposite. He's been faking fear and pain for two days now, but he knew that it would be over soon—now that the boss was finally here. His nose was bloody already, his lips split and sealed many times over, a split in his cheek and bruises covering his face, numerous small and torturous injuries covering the whole of his body. This had been happening for days, and he forced a tremble of fear to go through his body as the boss captor picked up a sizable knife.
The man, Gorgas, from what Parnassus was sure that he had heard, grasped his ankle and tore away the remains of his pant leg. Parnassus tried to jerk his leg away, but the restraints prevented it and a whimper left his mouth. Gorgas smiled cruelly. Parnassus forced a scream from his mouth as the outlaw excoriate from his leg, slicing into the skin of his leg, and started to peel it away.
He knew that it should really be painful and that the scream should have been real, but all he felt was pins and needles. It was a decease that he was born with; it was 1 in a 7 millionth of a chance and he was lucky enough to get it—it was also why the colour pixels in his eyes were the colour of amber instead of the Peck family crisp golden brown. He could feel the warmness of his blood running down the side of his leg, but paid it no mind.
Parnassus could have escaped days ago, hell; he would never have been captured in the first place if it had been up to him. He would have slaughtered them all before they even knew that he was there. But he been given orders and was to stick with his cover ID until the extraction unit came for him. Parnassus wished that he could roll his eyes, but he was the victim here.
His time was up though, and he was glad because he got kill the assholes that had left him with many more scars. Out of the notice of Gorgas, Parnassus distracting him with blood curdling scream and faked tears, dislocated his thumbs. He slipped them free of the restraint and popped them back into place.
Before Gorgas could start to excoriate another piece of skin from his body, Parnassus struck out; catching the man off guard. He used the time to free he head and then his feet, just in time too because Gorgas had righted himself. Before he could shout for back-up, Parnassus twisted around on the table and his leg wiped out. His bare foot catching Gorgas' chin squarely and with enough force to momentarily knock him out.
Parnassus jumped from the table and hauled Gorgas onto the table; it may have been days but his body and mind were awake—he hardly ever slept any way. He strapped Gorgas in just as the outlaw was gaining consciousness. Without a word, Parnassus picked up the knife that had fallen to the ground. Gorgas looked at him with wide eyes as Parnassus plunged the knife violently into his throat. He gurgled a moment as blood filled his throat, his body jerking before he let out a breath, his body going slack and the light leaving his eyes.
Parnassus yanked the knife out again and wiped the blood from unto the former Gorgas' sleeve, before he tucked it in his belt. He quickly searched the man; taking his gun and slipping it into the back of his pants. He found an envelope in the inside of his jacket pocket, and his lips twisted as he felt the card inside of it; he slipped that into his torn pants pocket.
He cracked his toes as he heard gun fire and shouts at a distance—right on time—Parnassus didn't even bother to take the dead mans boots, what's a man if not his bare feet? He pulled the gun from his waist-band just as the door in front of him was kicked in.
Parnassus tightened his hold on the gun's grip as the muzzle of a shotgun was shoved into his face, the owner hidden in the shadows.
Parnassus stayed put, recognizing the voice of his cousin instantly.
The muzzle wavered before slowly lowering. "Percy?" he exclaimed in confusion, taking a step forward.
"Templeton," Parnassus said fondly.
"What the Hell!" Face demanded. His eyes widened as he finally took in his cousin's appearance. "Are you okay?" it was a stupid question, and he found his hand unconsciously reaching out towards Parnassus' face.
But before he could touch it, someone shouted from down the hall. "Face, what're you standing around for, fool!"
Face jerked his hand back. "I don't think I wanna know." he said finally, giving Parnassus a hard look. "You okay to walk on your own?"
"I could walk with a broken leg," Parnassus smiled.
Face didn't, his usual charming features were grim as he turned. "Coming back with a friendly, B.A.!" he called down the hall.
"Hurry up, Facey!" another voice called, different from the deeper one from before.
"Friends of your's?" Parnassus asked, his foot steps light on the dirt floor, not even bothering to notice the limp.
Face glanced back at him, his rifle at the ready. "What are you doing here, Peck?"
"Ouch," Parnassus said under his breath. That did kind of hurt and Parnassus never felt hurt—but then again this was Templeton. "I was on a mission."
"Right," Face scoffed. "Then why were you captured and why was an infiltration team sent?"
"I had orders." Parnassus shrugged.
Before Face could comment on that, they were met up with the two other members of Face's Team. One was a big black man with a Mohawk and beard, the other one was a wiry man with brown hair and stubble. They gave Face and Parnassus a nod of acknowledgement before moving on. They didn't encounter any other outlaws as they made their way out of the building that Parnassus had been kept.
They made it outside and the sky was dark, the lights from the poles barely illuminating the muddy ground. There was a jeep a little ways down and leaning against the hood was another man, older with silver hair.
"How'd we do?" he asked.
"Fine, Hannibal." Face said curtly, not even looking at Parnassus.
"Really?" Hannibal raised a brow at the Lieutenant.
Face got a triple stare from Hannibal, B.A. and Murdock before he turned and looked at Parnassus. His eyes traveled down Parnassus, taking stock of each and every injury. He froze and his eyes widened as he saw his cousin's leg.
"Jesus Christ, Parnassus!" Face exclaimed.
"What?" Parnassus looked down at his legs. "Oh, that."
"What do you mean 'oh that'!" Face crouched down and taking an ace bandage from his vest and started to wrap the open flesh wound on his leg. "It looks like you were fucking skinned!"
"Oh, he was getting there."
"Why didn't you just escape?" Face intoned angrily.
Before Parnassus could sigh it out, he noticed something behind Templeton. "Gun!" he yelled, raising the one the he had commandeered in the direction that he had seen the stray outlaw and shoved Face down and away.
The rest of Face's Team pointed their guns in the same direction, and shots were fired simultaneously. There were muzzle flashes, and the echoes of gun shots. The outlaw fell to the ground dead, and the others sighed in relief, lowering their weapons.
Hannibal turned to Parnassus. "Good eye . . .?"
"Exile," Parnassus answered automatically using his given code-name.
Hannibal raised a brow but said nothing, by now used to odd nick-names.
"Percy!" Face exclaimed, struggling out of the mud with Murdock's help. "I'm covered in mud!" he said indignantly.
"Nothing a change of clothes won't fix," Parnassus said vaguely as he scratched at his tingly chest.
"Parnassus!" this time it wasn't an exclaim of indignity, but horror. Face rushed over to Parnassus, his hand going to his cousin's chest, to the gun shot wound.
Parnassus looked down in surprise. "Wow, didn't see that one coming."
He stumbled back a little, Face gripping his shoulder as his legs started to buckle. Parnassus may not have been able to feel the pain, but that didn't mean that the byproducts of the injury he received didn't have an impact. Face helped lower him to the ground while Hannibal rushed over and Murdock got the medical kit from the jeep, B.A. keeping an eye out.
Face tore Parnasssus' shirt open and pressed the gauze that Hannibal was handing him to the seeping wound. Parnassus could taste the blood in his mouth, and the pins and needles in his chest.
"Come on," Face said through ground teeth. "I swear to God, Parnassus . . ."
Parnassus smiled up at face despite the situation. "It's not that bad, Templeton."
"You're shot in the fucking chest!"
"We both know that I was going to die sooner or later," Parnassus told him. "It was ineventable."
"Shut up," Face told him.
"I know you never wanted me to do this because of my condition," Parnassus said to Face, not caring at the moment that his Team was right there to hear. "But it's because of that that this is my calling, Templeton. I was made to do this."
"I'm not going to let you die," Face told him with conviction, seemingly pressing harder on Parnassus' wound, stemming the blood off.
"You're family," Hannibal noted.
"Cousins," Face said, not taking his eyes of the man under his hands.
"We should move him to the truck," Hannibal said. "The bleeding seems to have at least slowed down, so getting him to a hospital sooner would be better than later."
Face nodded but didn't move.
"B.A., give me a hand." Hannibal ordered.
The big man cam over and he and Hannibal took up either side of Parnassus. They carried him over to the truck with Face still holding the gauze in place, Murdock rushing over to open the door for them. B.A. drove, Murdock in the seat next to him, while Face was in the back seat behind Murdock, and Hannibal in the seat behind B.A. Parnassus was laid across the backseat, awkwardly on top the two Rangers; Face got his head, still holding the bandages while Hannibal got his legs.
"You're such an idiot," Face whispered, not caring that the Colonel could hear.
Parnassus' eyes were closed and the parlor of his skin was ghostly, but Face could feel his chest move up and down shakily under his bloodied hand. Face saw the corner of his lips twitch though.
"You are always such a mother hen," Parnassus rasped out, which caused Face to purse his lips and glare in response (even though his cousin couldn't see), and Hannibal couldn't help the twitch of the corner of his lips at the truth of the fact.
"Well," Face said threateningly, "You're not going to say a word."
"Wouldn't dream of it," Parnassus promised his one and only cousin.
Murdock turned around in his seat and flashed Face a grin. "So, Facey," he said. "Who names you?" (it was kinda meant as an innocent question but kind of an insult too, but Face could only snort at the question from his best friend).
"Sit down, fool!" B.A. yelled at the pilot and Face was sure that everything was going to be fine.
note: I hoped you liked it and I hope that I got the characters from the A-Team relatively right. So to clarify on a few things about Parnassus: if you were wondering what kind of rank he had and whether or not he is in the military; well he would be considered a civilian and a spy. The disk thing in the envelope was just say government secrets? And the reason why he had to stay for three days was because he was waiting for the boss so that he could get the disk back. Parnassus didn't die in the end, by the way—and I may do more fics with him.