Disclaimer and Notes: A-Team characters and concepts property of Stephen J. Cannell; I'm just borrowing them for a time. Written for the first A-Team Lyric Wheel challenge. Lyrics to Waylon Jennings' "The Eagle" courtesy of Shay. Not beta'd; all mistakes are mine. Revised slightly from the ATSB posting to correct some age errors — thanks, JFM!

Prove Them Wrong

By Raine Wynd

"I thought we talked about this already." Perturbed, Face paced the living room.

From his position on the couch, a young, handsome man chuckled softly. "You were younger than me when you enlisted, Dad. You were, what, eighteen?"

"No, and that's entirely the wrong argument to use on me," his father admonished. "My age when I went is irrelevant. It doesn't matter whether you're nineteen or thirty, Justin. I don't want you to go."

Justin took a deep breath and exhaled it. "I know. I know this war's been going on for years, but I can't not go and say I did nothing. I have to do this."

"You don't have to do anything. I thought I taught you that." Face raked a frustrated hand through his hair and perched on the arm of the couch. "Besides, of all things –- the Army? Haven't you been listening to a word I've said about that over the years?"

"Yeah, I have," the young man answered quietly, his gaze never wavering. "You never said I couldn't join. You just said you wish they hadn't fucked you over six ways to Sunday."

Face glared at him. "I never said that. At least, not in that language, and I thought I taught you not to use language like that."

"You taught me to call it like it is," his son replied calmly, unfazed. "You said they screwed you. Doesn't take a genius to go look up just how roughly and badly they screwed you and the rest of the team, never mind everything I already knew growing up, everything Murdock would tell me if I just asked the right questions." He paused and held up a hand to forestall the argument Face was marshaling. "I remember what it was like before I started first grade, when you and the guys had to figure out where it was safe to keep me because you were still wanted by the government. I'm not doing this because I think the military's cool. You and the guys were the best people to show me it wasn't –- not by a long shot."

"Justin, knowing that, why do you want to join? You have an engineering degree, you were at the top of your class, you have my charm with people –- you could go anywhere, be anything. You want to take all that and let them strip you to the bone, own you like cattle, teach you how to kill?"

"Why are you so afraid? You did it."

"Because I had nothing to lose by joining," came the furious reply. "I didn't care if I ever came back. I had nothing to come home to. Because they'll look at your records and see that you're the infamous Lieutenant Templeton Peck's son. Do you know how much hell that will cause you, right off the bat?"

"Should I care?" Justin shot back. A shadow of annoyance crossed his face.

"Yes, damn it," Face retorted, rising to his feet again as his anger coursed through him. "Because I don't want them breaking you for the things I did, much less for the things they imagined I did. Don't you think I know how much they'd love to get their hands on you, just to see how far they can push you before you snap?"

"Anyone ever tell you're paranoid?" his son noted dryly. "You were pardoned years ago. You really think anyone's going to remember something that happened over a decade ago?"

Face chuckled humorlessly and crossed his arms. "The Army chased us for over twenty years; cost them a fortune. Something like that's not anything they're going to forget easily."

From the look on his son's face, Justin didn't believe him, and the disbelief stung. "Damn it, even if you don't believe anyone in the Army would make you pay for me, would you just consider this? You're only nineteen. You have your whole life ahead of you; you can do other things. The world will not think less of you if you did. Hell, I'd be happier if you joined the Peace Corps. I thought you wanted to engineer things, not enlist in the Army."

Justin looked at him, and for the first time Face saw him as a young man, capable of deciding for himself. "I do want to engineer things, but nothing interests me as much as this. You've heard what they're saying in the news lately. I've heard rumors that the eagle may be lame –- meaning they think we won't fight, that all we are as a country is a paper tiger. They've been saying that ever since those planes crashed, and now I'm hearing people say it like they believe it."

"I know," his father said quietly. "If Hannibal was here -–"

"--he'd be arguing the reasons why not go and fight the good fight," Justin finished with a grin. "Come on, how many times did he convince you to go somewhere when you would've rather been anywhere else?"

Reluctantly, Face conceded the point. "Too many, and that's neither here nor there. I still wish he was alive to knock some sense into you; you always listened to him better than me. Justin, you're my son, my only child. Everything I've done, I've done so you don't have to fight."

"That's part of why I want to do this," Justin argued. "I know you paid more dues than anyone ever has a right to, and you didn't get pardoned until I was seven years old. I'm grateful for everything you've done to make me feel like I had a place in this world, that I was loved and wanted, even if I grew up without a mother." He chuckled, remembering. "Sometimes I felt like I had four fathers, between Hannibal and BA and Murdock and you. But don't you see? If I do this, then maybe I won't be just your son. Maybe they'll say that only someone like you could be my father, and say it in a good way. Maybe I'll prove them wrong."

"Honor and nobility won't get you through the nightmares," Face said harshly. "Justin, please. Don't you think I've given you enough childhood traumas that you don't need any adult ones?"

"You don't get it." Justin shook his head, and Face knew he wasn't succeeding in changing his son's mind. "I've never seen my childhood as traumatic. You made sure I was taken care of, even if I once overheard BA's mom scolding you for the way you were doing it. Maybe I know things other kids didn't –- like what it's like to have to talk to a school counselor about you being a part of the A-Team, or having some of the kids think you were gay because I had all these 'uncles' taking care of me when you couldn't –- but don't you remember? I've never been ashamed to be your son. No one could ever make me feel like that."

"I know, but pride will get you killed," Face countered, and swallowed hard against the tide of memories that swelled up as he remembered terrible proofs of that lesson. "Maybe I'm paranoid and someone won't make the association I'm thinking someone will make, but –- I can't help thinking trouble will find you if you enlist. You're my son." He gestured helplessly. "I spent seven years thinking someone was going to take you away from me, use you as blackmail, or worse. You have no idea how many ways I tried to make sure the government didn't have a hold on you, and now you're telling me you want to volunteer to give yourself away to them?" He looked at Justin, incredulous and afraid he hadn't said the right thing. The love he felt for his son rose to choke him, and the words he rarely said to anyone stuck in his throat.

Reading the look on his face, Justin rose and hugged him, hard. "I love you, too, Dad, but I want to do this." He half-chuckled, his nerves suddenly showing through. "I've been thinking about it for five years now, ever since 9/11, trying to figure out what I wanted to do, trying to make sure you wouldn't kill me for even considering joining."

Face arched an eyebrow suspiciously. "So you going to college while still going to high school was you thinking about it?"

Justin looked suddenly young and sheepish. "Yeah. It's like you told me: have a backup plan. Well, that was my backup plan. Look, Dad, for all I know, I might end up stationed in Nowhere, Kentucky, and never see any action."

"Can we get that in writing?" Face half-joked. He sighed, too well aware that his son had inherited his tenacity and determination. For the first time in years, Face found himself wishing he had more support, someone to back him up on his parenting, someone other than his team, but BA's mother wasn't well, and Justin's mother had long ago made it clear she didn't care. Even with his team's help, raising Justin had been Face's job, and looking at him now, Face realized ruefully that Justin had grown up to be just like him. Despite everything, Face was proud of his country, and he'd passed that pride on to his son.

As if sensing Face's wavering, Justin asked, "If I do this, will you be proud of me?"

"Son, I'll always be proud of you," Face said swiftly. "Even when you do show you have as much sense as I did at your age. I just wish you didn't think enlisting was the only way you could show your patriotism."

"It's not about patriotism," Justin insisted. "It's... I can't even explain it. It just feels right."

Face studied his son, seeing the resolve in Justin's face and body. Face had known exposure to the A-Team had corrupted his son's sense of justice; he just hadn't realized it had gone this far. "I can't talk you out of this?" he asked finally.

Justin shot him a pointed look. "Do you really want me to go through all the reasons I have for doing this? Because I'm not sure if I can give you any more than I need to go. I know you don't want me getting hurt. I'll try not to, and if my CO turns out to be as much on the jazz as I remember Hannibal was, I'm going to try not to be caught up in that. You know I can't promise you anymore than that."

"I still don't have to like it." Resigned, Face sighed and walked over to the table where he'd laid his car keys. "Come on. Why don't we see if recruiters still say anything to get you to sign up, and then if you still want to do this after we've heard what they have to say, then we'll see if I've changed my mind."

No man wanted to lose his child to war, but Face knew if he were a younger, more idealistic man, he'd be inclined to sign up too. Knowing that didn't make life any easier, though. Even as he shut the door behind a startled Justin and shepherded him into the car, Face wondered if he could get Murdock to talk Justin out of going. If nothing else, talking to Murdock would make Face feel better. Feeling slightly cheered by the prospect, Face started the car.

finis 1.25.08

Lyric used: Lately I've heard rumors that the eagle may be lame

Lord knows I am peaceful when I'm left alone
I've always been an eagle; it's been a while since I have flown
My claws are as sharp as ever so's my eagle eye
Something's gonna go to ground when the eagle flies.

Lately I've heard rumors that the eagle may be lame
Just because I've been idle don't mean that I'm tame
You've jeopardized my freedom my natural place to roost
I can fly when I have to; they've turned the eagle loose.

So lay all your doubts aside when you go to bed tonight
My feathers are all ruffled now I'm ready for a fight
Just because I took a while to fly, don't mean I don't care
When you feel the shadow crossing the eagle's in the air.

So lay all your doubts aside when you go to bed tonight
My feathers are all ruffled now I'm ready for a fight
Just because I took a while to fly don't mean I don't care
When you feel the shadow crossing the eagle's in the air.

When you feel the shadow crossing the eagle's in the air

Finis 1.24.08