Jealousy With a Halo - Final Part

 Face:-
Anger and desperation give me a fresh burst of adrenalin and I yank at the cuffs so hard that the wooden slat cracks right through and I’m free at last. I stagger to my feet, feeling the pins and needles in my arms and legs and for one white hot moment consider slamming Hannibal against the nearest wall. But no, I can’t do that, I still love him far too much, I just need to get out instead.

 

I grab my jeans off the floor, not bothering to look for my boxers or the key to these damn cuffs, just needing to put some space between me and the boss as fast as I can.

 

I hear a noise to my left and react instinctively whirling on the spot and preparing to strike. Hannibal freezes, his hands up in front of him trying to appear harmless and I let out a mirthless laugh. Harmless? Never you old man, never you.

 

“Face...” the catch in his voice gets my attention and he steps in towards me, “I’m sorry,” I can’t think I’ve ever heard those words come from his mouth before. “I never meant for you to...... I just wanted you to be careful, that’s all.” He shakes his head at me, “This was never about the threat of me losing my career, kid, this was always about you losing your home...”

 

There’s something gripping my throat and I can’t swallow properly and suddenly all the adrenalin is gone and the sleepless nights and the range and being tied to a fucking bed for two hours all catches up with me and my thighs start to cramp and then I’m deposited on the floor in a graceless heap, with my jeans clutched tight in my fingers.

 

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Hannibal:-
He collapses like he’s been shot and I’m on my knees next to him without even stopping to consider if he’ll snap my neck if I get too close.

 

My arms go around him, feeling the coolness of his skin on my finger tips, and for a moment he struggles against me before he just sags and I have to hold him up against my chest, folding him into my arms and wrapping him tight against the cold desert chill.

 

“I never wanted that for you,” I whisper, appalled at the way he’s misconstrued my warnings, “And of course I wanted you in my bed, but I was worried. If we were thrown out where would you go, what would you do, kid? I know how much the army means to you!”

 

He pulls away a bit and I reluctantly let him go, but he doesn’t leave the circle of my arms, he just looks up at me, his eyes wide and hurting and I’ve done that to him...

 

“It’s nothing to do with the damn army, John,” his voice is a raw whisper, “It’s you. Only you. I can live anywhere, do anything, as long as I’m with you.”

 

Jesus Christ. What I feel for this kid I have never felt about any other soul, living or dead, in my entire life. He is everything to me, enough to make me stupid and lose my mind and get embroiled in jealous schemes of revenge. And through all of that, almost lose him completely.

 

I want to kiss him so damn much but I stop, reminding myself what I’ve done to him, not just tonight but every day since we arrived here; so scared we’d lose this, that I was forever pushing him away.

 

He sees my reluctance and offers up a sad little smile, “She was good then, boss? It’s okay, I understand, she’s one hell of a looker...”

 

Oh god, here we go again! But this time I’m not going to let any misunderstanding drive a wedge between us. “No.” I hold his face so he can’t get away from me, “I don’t want her, I never slept with her, that was all just part of the act, kid. It’s you and only you. You’ve got me one hundred percent, whether you want me or not!”

 

I smile and try to lighten the mood slightly and he responds, even if the smile is still a little sad. But then he ducks his face back into my chest where I can’t see him. Or kiss him.

 

I take a deep breath. “Will you stay the night with me, Face? I’m fed up of being without you.”

 

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Face:-
And there is that power to surprise, all over again.

 

I nod in response to his question. I know it will take a little while to get over everything that has happened these last two weeks, but I also know it will happen. The alternative is being alone, and neither of us cares too much for that.

 

I feel as weak as a kitten and let him guide me back onto the bed, under the covers this time and he removes the cuffs, horrified at the mess my wrists are in. I lie still and quiet, dozing lightly while he cleans me up and wraps up the raw skin, apologising the whole time until I tell him to leave it, he’s giving me a headache.

 

His throaty chuckle is like music to my ears, and the feel of his warm, solid body beside me as he eventually slides into the bed soothes my still raw nerves. I turn my cheek onto his chest and lie there, listening to the comforting thrum of his heart. I know we need to make love, to complete this circle, make him to only one in my life again, but right now I’m just exhausted, maybe in a few minutes, after a little rest...

 

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The sunlight that meets my eyes when I open them is disconcerting. As is the empty space next to me... But as I sit up in a panic, ready to run out and see where Hannibal has got to, I notice an envelope on the bedside table, next to a brown paper bag.

 

My fingers are shaking as I tear the envelope open but the words inside, in that familiar strong script, instantly put me at my ease.

 

Face,

Take it easy today; you’re on a sick call.

H

PS Breakfast in the bag, stay in bed, I’m stopping by at lunch to see how you’re doing....

It’s not the words themselves, not as such. It’s the fact that if anyone else were to read that message, there’s enough there to make them think, make them wonder about us. I can’t stop the grin as I reach into the bag and pull out a huge breakfast bun; I’m still in no hurry at all to get thrown out on a DADT charge, but it looks as though maybe Hannibal thinks we don’t have to hide quite as much as we have been before.

 

And that’s more than enough for me.