Catching - Hannibal & Face (Part2)

[indigo_angels]

It was seven thirty five precisely, after the drinks had been served, the starters ordered and the initial polite conversation topics were done with, before the real point of the evening came up.

“So, Hannibal...” Russ set down his over sized wine glass and regarded his old friend steadily, “Tell me what happened in Gitmo.”

So Hannibal did. The whole mission from start to finish, leaving out some key information, obviously.

Russ listened in silence and arched an eyebrow as Hannibal finished his recount with the safe delivery of the drugs lord into the waiting hands of the CIA and then sat back in his chair, picking up his wine glass and taking a long mouthful. He sighed. “Don't try to bullshit me Hannibal. And the rest.”

“The rest?” Hannibal looked perfectly at ease, but his heart was pounding in his chest.

Russ leaned over the table, his voice low, “I've asked around, made my own enquiries, heard some rumours which I would like you to substantiate for me.”

Hannibal leant forward to meet his superior, “Such as?”

Russ wasn't phased, he had known it wouldn't be easy to get something from Hannibal if he didn't want to share and so he had worked this bit out in advance. “Such as why you and your boys have spent two days searching for Face in Gitmo, or why you had no idea he was on his way to see me.”

Hannibal shrugged, “He's on R&R, Russ, can go where he likes, do what he wants.”

Russ shook his head, “Yeah, but that's not the way you guys do it is it, John? Where the hell is Face gonna go if he's not with you? Who's he gonna see?” He paused, “He got another woman?” Russ, much to Face's ultimate embarrassment, was very familiar with the story of of the doomed relationship with Lt. Sosa.

It was Hannibal's turn to shake his head as he took a mouthful of wine to hide the colour he felt on his cheeks.

“So I find it weird that you didn't know where he was. Unless...” Hannibal forced himself to hold Morrison's stare, “...you and he had some words and he just took off?”

“Words? What about? I've told you Russ, he did a damn fine job with that mission, they all did.”

Russ sighed. “You're really gonna make me say this Hannibal? 'Cause I've heard other things as well...”

Hannibal was sure Russ must be able to hear the pounding of his heart.

He'd obviously been waiting for an answer as, when Hannibal didn't offer one, Russ sighed and shook his head, “Okay, Hannibal, what have you got to say about reports I've heard that Face was seen leaving Kennedy's office looking fit to explode and Kennedy himself was seen soon after by a medical team with a split lip, a missing tooth and extensive bruising to his jaw?”

Hannibal's stomach jumped and he had to quickly bite down a triumphant grin; excellent, the kid had landed one on the lecherous old bastard! But he kept his features carefully neutral as he gave another shrug and answered, “I had dinner with the man that night. Told me he slipped and fell against the sink.”

Russ leant back in his chair, “That's what the medical report says too, but it's not what the boys on the base are saying.”

Hannibal schooled his features into a perfect mask of surprise, “You think Face took a swing at him?” Russ nodded and Hannibal laughed, “Why? Why on earth would the kid do that? He's not stupid enough to hit a general for crying out loud!”

Russ didn't laugh. He leaned forward again, his face intense, “Isn't he? You sure about that John?” Hannibal's laughter died in his throat. “'Cause I'm not so sure. Don't get me wrong, I rate the boy, you know I do, and I like him too, he's loyal, he's smart and he always gets the job done, but come on... you know he can be... unpredictable, they all can, I warned you about that when you took them on.”

Hannibal's brows pulled together; was his oldest friend criticising his team here?

“Face has done nothing wrong,” he stated flatly.

Russ rubbed his forehead and looked at Hannibal intently, “John, I'm trying to save your ass here. I know you love your boys, but you can't risk your career to cover up for a loose canon! If Kennedy makes a complaint-”

“But he hasn't.”

“If he does and you insist on standing with Face on this one, then...” he shook his head, “You're out buddy and there's nothing I can do to help you.”

Silence.

“So what exactly are you advising I do then?” Hannibal's voice was carefully controlled.

“You're his CO. If you know he assaulted a superior officer then you should call it in. Call it in to me, John, and I will do everything damn thing I can to keep it in house and make it as easy on him as I can.”

“You'd bust him?!”

“I'd have to. And so should you. Rules are meant to be followed Hannibal.”

Hannibal didn't answer, didn't trust himself to answer, this had come right up on his blind side here. Russ wanted him to report Face for assaulting the SOB who had held him down and raped him? Jesus, this was so fucked up... Face had been raped (twice in two days his conscience reminded him) and this was what he got as a result? Okay, so maybe Russ didn't know the full story, and he never would if Hannibal had anything to do with it, but even so... He shook his head, “If Kennedy makes a complaint against my Lieutenant, I will stand with him Russ, 'cause as far as I am concerned, Face has done absolutely nothing wrong. And if that means I'm in the shit as well, then so be it.”

Morrison's eyes narrowed, “What aren't you telling me?”

Hannibal made no response.

Minutes ticked by then the starters arrived, and the topic was dropped for the rest of the evening.

It didn't take much to persuade Russ to let him know where Face was bunking on the base, and as soon as the car dropped him off again, Hannibal made his way over. Security let him in with one look at his uniform and he soon found the right room. He knocked softly then looked at his watch. 1.10am. With a quick glance along the corridor, he pulled out a pin and started picking the lock.

Face was sleeping as he knew he would be and Hannibal’s gut clenched uncomfortably as he saw the neatly packed kit bag stacked at the end of the bed. Face's entire life was in that one bag, all his life, everything he had, and he was obviously ready to move on again in the morning. What did he think was going to happen? Russ would agree to his request and he would immediately be sent off to his new unit? Or that he would be turned down, and then what? Would he return to Hannibal? Or would going AWOL be a preferential option?

Hannibal sat lightly on the edge of the bed and wondered how he had let things get to this point. He watched Face's eyelids flutter as he slept and knew that he only did that when he was deeply, deeply asleep. Hannibal had made a study out of watching Face sleep, sometimes from across the room, sometimes from the warmth of his arms as they gravitated together for warmth or comfort when things got just that little bit too much. He thought he'd known him inside out, everything he thought and everything he did, but his little conversation with Kennedy the other night had busted that idea in spectacular fashion...

He sighed and slid to his knees at the edge of the bed, one hand sliding into Face's hair, the other on alert as he knew exactly how Face would awake.

It didn't take as long as usual, one second Face was still fast asleep, his lips moving soundlessly with his dream, the next he was wide awake, sitting upright in bed, a fist flying in Hannibal's direction. Hannibal caught it easily, he was used to this, they all were. Sometimes the boys would draw straws so they didn't have to be the one to wake Face when they were on a job, as much as they knew what was coming, once or twice the punch got through and it didn't matter how bad Face felt about it immediately afterwards, it still hurt like hell for a couple of days. It was a running joke in the team and they all laughed about it, Face laughing along with them, but now it wasn't so funny. Now Hannibal had heard a little bit more about Face's life in the orphanage it wasn't hard to see why he woke like that, and there was nothing in the world less funny than that.

The wave of shame crashed over him yet again.

“Relax kid, it's only me...” Hannibal tried to find the voice he would usually use on occasions like this and at first it seemed to work.

“Hannibal...” Face's voice was still slurred with sleep, “What the hell time is it? It's still fucking dark...” But then, deep in Face's mind, a penny dropped and he pushed his CO away, eyes widening in the glow from the street lights. “What the fuck?! How did you get in here?”

Hannibal immediately backed off, he knew he had to walk on egg shells with this, “Picked the lock,” he murmured softly, “You taught me how to, remember?”

Face didn't answer, but Hannibal's heart missed a beat as he noticed his lieutenant tugging the quilt up to his neck and shuffling up the head board to be as far from Hannibal as he could.

“Don't bother...” his voice was harsher than he'd intended, “I'm not going to touch you...”

Face's fingers minutely relaxed their grip on the duvet as he lifted his chin in that wonderfully defiant way that always made Hannibal smile, unless it was directed his way of course. “So why are you here then?”

Hannibal really missed the 'boss' from the end of that statement.

He sighed, “We need to talk Face, I need to apologise.”

“You already have,” Face's voice was clipped.

“And yet you still took off on me...”

“Doesn't that tell you something?”

Hannibal squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. This wasn't going well. “I obviously didn't do a good enough job then.”

There was enough light in the room to see that Face had closed his own eyes and was shaking his head, “Doesn't matter what you've got to say, it won't make any difference to me. This...” he opened his eyes as he gestured between himself and Hannibal and shook his head, “well, it's all over. I do have some standards in COs you know.”

Like he won't work with people who tie him up and force themselves on him... Hannibal's conscience helpfully provided.

The plan had evaporated, this was not going the way he had hoped at all, he started thinking on his feet, “Face, I really don't want you to leave...”

“That's too bad.”

“Think of the others, what will they say?”

“I dunno. You tell them what you did?”

Hannibal could feel the edges of panic setting in as he looked into Face's stony countenance “The team needs you Face!”

Face leant forward, anger flashing in his eyes, “I'm not interested!”

“I've said I'm sorry!”

“It's not fucking good enough! ” Face's hands were in tight fists, “There's no way back from this Hannibal, no way at all, there are things you just don't do to a friend? Don't you get that?” He shook his head, “I'm just not interested any more!”

“For the sake of the others...” Hannibal could feel his heart thumping in his throat, he could never remember feeling so desperate.

“No!!”

“We need you!”

“I said no!!”

“How're BA and Murdock gonna take this?”

“ I said no for fuck's sake! Why are you doing this?!”

“Jesus, kid, I love you? Can't you see that?”

Face's mouth moved, but nothing came out. For once he was speechless.

Hannibal hadn't planned this, he'd only come to this rather startling realisation this afternoon holed up in his room, but once it had been made, everything suddenly made a lot more sense, and he knew that nothing in life was as true. He supposed he'd always been working towards this epiphany, but he didn't suppose it should have come quite like this... Nevertheless, ever the master tactician, he was quick to press his advantage, “I'm in love with you Face... Have been for a while...”

It took Face just another beat to get himself back together. He closed his mouth and his eyes narrowed at Hannibal, “So that was your idea of romance then was it?” The bite was still in his voice.

“No...” Hannibal chose his words carefully, “That was my idea of being sick with jealously that that dick-head Kennedy got to have what I couldn't...”

“He got it 'cause he took it...”

“I know that now!”

“So you thought you'd do the same?”

“No!” Hannibal was back on his knees at the side of the bed. Why couldn't he just make Face understand? “I didn't think at all, I just lost it, the thought of you and him... and I was just so pissed that you would choose him over me-”

“I didn't choose-”

“I know!” Hannibal roared. Both pairs of eyes immediately flicked to the door and the two men sat in silence listening intently for any noise that would indicate they'd been overheard. Eventually Hannibal was satisfied and he turned back to Face. “I know that now,” his voice was a whisper, “But I didn't know it then. You've got to think of it from my point of view...”

“Oh, yeah, you're right,” the sarcasm was so thick it literally dripped from each word, “When you put it like that, there was nothing I deserved more than another raping...”

It was the first time the word had been said out loud and Hannibal dropped his head in shame as he finally realised Face was right. There was no way back from this. “I'm sorry,” he whispered. “You really have no idea how very sorry I am, Face. I would give anything in the world to take it back, so save you from that pain. I'm so sorry.”

The silence was heavy and Face's voice was strained when he answered, “I think you'd better go.”

Hannibal never took defeat easily, but this one felt like a knife in his gut. He slowly rose to his feet, “What are you going to say to Morrison?”

“Worried I'll drop you in it?” the malice sounded alien in Face's voice.

“No,” and he wasn't - it was only what he deserved, “you'd have done it by now if you were going to. And I wouldn't blame you if you did.”

Silence.

“I just... if you know where you want to go, I can put a good word in for you, you know, speak to people...”

“I can stand on my own two feet, thanks.”

Hannibal knew that, he'd just wanted to help. He took a step towards the door and Face's eyes followed him still narrowed in the street lights. “I meant what I said you know, about, you know... loving you...” Hannibal knew he sounded desperate.

“Funny way of showing it...”

Was that a ray of hope? “If you give me another chance, I could do a better job...”

But Face's hands were in fists again, “Get out!” he spat.

Hannibal left.

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