Disclaimer: The A-Team and Maggie are not mine.

English is not my first language – so, forgive me for any mistakes! =)

Hannibal and BA were standing side by side in a hospital corridor, watching as the gurney with a still body of their lieutenant slowly disappeared behind the doors with an inscription "O.R." BA's lips were trembling, there was a suspicious glint in his eyes. Hannibal clenched his teeth – he himself couldn't cry… at least, not here, not in front of the guys.

"Come on… " - They moved into the waiting room. BA froze in a plastic chair, softly whispering prayers. Hannibal, out of habit, was scanning the room with his eyes. He felt that he had nothing inside – just a growing suffocating fear.

He heard the sound of running feet and suddenly Murdock and Frankie were in front of him. The mute question was in two sets of eyes. Hannibal just shrugged helplessly. Murdock lowered himself on the seat next to BA, put a hand on his shoulder. Hannibal knew they'll have to deal with the aftermath of Murdock's steely composure later… He just was not sure they will have this "later" – it all depended of whether the sarcastic blue-eyed conman was going to live. Hannibal moaned quietly. He again saw the kid's face – chapped colorless lips, twitching eyelids… He suddenly realized that he couldn't remember Face's smile. It hurt…

The O.R. door banged and he saw the young nurse. In a couple of minutes she reappeared with some bottles in her hands. Hannibal intercepted her.

"How is it there?"

The girl shrugged. - "A severe bleeding…" - She paused. - "It's bad…"

"Lizzie!" - Came an angry call and the girl disappeared.

Hannibal once again looked at his team and took a step towards the door. Okay... the scrubs, just his size… someone's shoes. Now goes a cap, then a mask, covering half of his face… He almost knocked a running Lizzie on the way to the O.R. A lanky surgeon was cursing quietly, bent over the table. Hannibal deliberately didn't look at the patient, instead turning the gaze from surgeons' faces to machines and back.

A woman came into the room tying her mask.

"I'll kill you, Joe!" - She exclaimed. An anesthesiologist gave her a guilty look. - "I'm sorry, Mag!.. The dinner is on me – will you help an old buddy?" – "Helping already" - The woman grumbled. - "What do we have? Okay, 35 years old, a bullet wound…" - She took a look at the monitor. "Oh yeah, I'll definitely kill you!" They bent over the papers, the woman's face was tense.

Hannibal rubbed his eyes – Mag? Maggie Sullivan?!

"Hi, Mag," - The surgeon shot a look at her. - "Ready?" - She nodded coming closer to the table.

"Well, hello handso…" – She stopped short. – "Who is it, Alan?" – Her voice was like glass.

"A gun-fight at the restaurant… A stomach wound – the splenic artery nicked, the intestines ruptured… It's really bad." – He looked close at her. – "What's wrong with you?"

"N-nothing…" – She gave a glance around the room… and saw Hannibal. The woman pointed to the chair in the corner with her eyes. – "He is with me, Alan – a colleague from Vegas…"

Hannibal automatically nodded. Alan and his assistants returned back to work. Maggie checked the IV, took one more look at the surgical field and came to the chair. – "Well, hello to you too…" – Hannibal nodded. – "How is he, Maggie?" – "He's losing a lot of blood, the BP is dropping. They still can't mend the source of bleeding…"

Lizzie brought the tests results. Maggie looked at the monitor, sighed heavily. – "Okay, let's give him one more unit of blood … and load the dopamine".

"Mag, can I come closer?" – The colonel's voice wavered.

"Yes, but no hysterics."

Biting his lips, Hannibal came closer to the table. He felt like he himself was punched in the gut – Face looked so fragile. The transparent skin, the wires, the tubes… and the blood – so much of it!..

"Kid…" – He gently touched a blonde strand of hair. Some device nearby shrilled suddenly and Maggie swore through her teeth.

"Step out, John!" – She ordered. Hannibal looked at her. – "Step out, damn it! Atropine, quick! Alan, we have asystolia!"

Through a haze Hannibal saw Alan start a cardiac massage, Maggie grab a couple of syringes, then a couple more… He felt strangely empty inside, only a line of a song was repeating itself in his mind… of their song: "Please, don't take my sunshine away…"

At last the shrill stopped. Maggie sighed brokenly. – "How much longer, Alan?"

"About three more hours" – The surgeon grumbled.

Maggie shook her head. – "He will not get through…"

"He will," – Hannibal muttered. – "I won't let him go, I've promised…" – He again stroked the soft hair. As soon as he withdrew from a table, the monitor squeaked again. Hannibal touched the lieutenant – the monitor calmed down. Maggie appeared nearby.

"Talk to him… He has very little strength left, Hannibal. Come on, just talk…"

The surgeon's assistant looked up in surprise.

"Keep your eyes on the wound!" – Alan snapped and the girl bowed her head again.

Hannibal closed his eyes and started talking – softly, just for the two of them… about everything they have been through, about what was ahead of them… teasing the lieutenant, trying to give him a strength to fight. He didn't feel the tears soaking through his mask, didn't hear the devices being quiet, didn't see the approving look of Maggie and the shocked one of Alan. He came to himself only when Maggie put a hand on his shoulder. The surgeons have already left; the nurses were quickly taking the bloody sheets of Face. Hannibal came around the table and took the lieutenant's hand.

"Nice work, kid," – he whispered. – "Nice work… When will he wake up, Mag?"

"I don't know…" – She tiredly drew a hand across her face. – "It's a miracle that he's pulled through the surgery." – She again put a hand on Hannibal's shoulder. – "I am sorry, John… but the fight has just begun."

"I won't let him go," – Hannibal repeated not taking his eyes of the pale face.