Kit Bag - Part Three
Sep. 2nd, 2011 10:13 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_angelsFor a second Hannibal looked genuinely confused, “I did! You wanted us to run for it, you were worried about the MPs.” He leaned across the table to Face and their fingers brushed, both yanking away so fast that Hannibal almost spilt his coffee. He sighed. “Look, I know what prison was like for you, Face, all those guys, I know you don’t want to go back, I got all of that!”
But Face just shook his head, “That’s not it.”
And again Hannibal was confused, “It’s not about prison?”
“It is,” Face rubbed at his mouth again, “but going back in – it’s nothing to do with beating people off my ass. I mean, yeah, I had to do that, but since when was that any different from the army? From college? From the Catholic care system? I can do that, Hannibal, it’s what I have had to do my whole life.”
He paused and Hannibal frowned, “So...?”
Face shook his head, “You still don't get it? Being in jail, John? I couldn’t do that again, not for five fucking minutes and it’s nothing to do with men in general, it’s all to do with you.”
There was a stunned pause. “Me?”
“Yes you.” Face took a deep breath and made sure he was holding Hannibal’s eyes, “And the way that I can’t live without you. The way that every second of my life is about being with you. About how I live for those moments when it’s just us and you look at me like I’m something other than your ‘go get’ guy... About how I love you with everything I am.”
Beat. “Face. I...”
Face leaned back from the table, “I know, boss, just forget it,” he scrubbed at his face. “Back in the motel I was trying to push you into exploding, I thought you might grab me and yell at me and maybe kiss me and tell me how pissy I was being and that really, you just loved me.”
Hannibal stared, the disbelief etched all over his features, “Face...”
“I know,” Face let out a mirthless laugh, “Stupid. Got more than I bargained for there though didn’t I?”
“Nothing can excuse the way I behaved.” Hannibal’s voice was low.
“I know.”
Face dropped his head again and felt Hannibal’s long exhale as it ruffled the top of his hair. “I wish you had talked to me, about this, told me how you felt.”
And Face laughed his empty laugh again, “Really? You really wish that?” he looked up again, “What would you have done, then boss, if I had sat you down and said, ‘You know all this fucking we’ve been doing recently? Well, I’ve actually decided that it’s not fucking for me, it’s making love, and I love you, and I want us to be together, like, properly, you know? Forever.’ What would you have done, boss, then? After you’d stopped laughing of course.”
“I wouldn’t have laughed.” Hannibal’s voice was almost too low to hear.
“No?” Face considered him, “You’d have beaten me up?”
“No,” Hannibal dragged his own eyes from his coffee and fixed Face with his stare. “I’d have told you I love you back.”
Now it was Face’s turn to be stunned. “Jesus Christ...” he eventually muttered.
“Yeah.”
There were a few more minutes of silence as Hannibal sipped his cold coffee and thought hard while Face just seemed to be reeling.
Eventually it was Face that broke the silence, “So,” he cleared his throat, “what happens now?”
Hannibal looked up with sorrow in his eyes, “What else is there to do? I still have to leave.”
“Why?”
Forcing himself to keep eye contact, Hannibal tried to keep the devastation off his face, “Because of what I did. Because I betrayed your trust and hurt you,” he explained quietly.
But Face’s eyes bored into his, determination burning in their blue ice. “What if I don’t want you to leave? What if I can’t stand it?”
“Well, you’d be a fool then,” now it was Hannibal’s turn for dry laughter. “Who’s to say I wouldn’t do it again, maybe without Murdock there to stop me in time?”
“So, you’d rather I’d live with this fucking great hole in my life then, boss?” the bitterness was back in Face’s voice.
“I’d rather you live,” Hannibal interjected.
But Face wasn’t prepared to give this up, not at all, “And we would do that, the team I mean, without you there with us? Being our boss? Making the plans?”
Shaking his head sadly, Hannibal forced himself to ignore the pain in Face’s eyes, “I don’t think BA or Murdock would want me back under any circumstances at all.”
“You’re wrong,” Face was leaning over the table again, their fingers just brushing. “Murdock has been in a right state over the way he talked to you. And BA’s been wanting to pick you up all week.”
“Nice try, kid. Don’t forget I spoke to him on the phone yesterday.”
“No, you didn’t,” the earnest look in Face’s expression was convincing. “Not really. That was me, everything he said I told him to. I knew you would be beating yourself up over this, knew you wouldn’t come if you thought we were going to try and change your mind. Or of you knew I was coming, I had to help him out a bit.”
Hannibal frowned, “You played me?”
“I tried to.”
For the first time in days and days the edge of a smile pulled at Hannibal’s lips, “When did you ever get so sneaky you could fool me?”
Face had his own answering almost smile, “Learnt from the best, boss.”
The smiles didn’t last though. Within seconds Hannibal was massaging his temples, his eyes on Face across the table, “It doesn’t change anything though, we can’t go back to how things were before.”
“Well, why not go forward instead then?” Face responded as quick as a flash.
“I can’t,” Hannibal almost moaned. “How can I risk that happening again? How can I put you in danger like that?”
“Huh,” Face parried, “I’m in danger every damn day of my life, boss.”
“Not from me you’re not,” Hannibal shot back.
Silence fell, and Face was now the one rubbing at his head, although Hannibal wasn’t sure if that was anything to do with the pain, or just to make him think more clearly. “So...” he eventually asked Hannibal, “I don’t get this. What exactly are you worried about?”
“That I will hurt you,” Hannibal explained quietly, “maybe even worse the next time.”
Face chewed his lip, “You certain there’s going to be a next time?”
“No! But... Hell, Face,” he shook his head, disgust in his face, “I did it the once...”
Face watched him carefully, “So you would choose maybe hurting me one day over definitely hurting me now?”
“What?”
“Still not listening to me, boss?” the frustration was evident in Face’s eyes, “What did I say to you? I love you. You think walking out on me now isn’t going to hurt?”
“You’ll get over it,” Hannibal answered brusquely, “It’s for the best in the long run.”
“I’ll get over it?” there was anger in that voice, “Boss, do you have any idea what life has been like for me? How I have spent my entire existence searching for that elusive something, that elusive someone? Do you have any idea of the number of women, men and in-betweens I have fucked? And when I found you, all those years ago, I just knew. You have no idea what you do for me, how you tie up all my loose ends. All I’ve ever wanted was to be the most important person in the world for somebody; to have somebody think of me that way. And if I could feel that back for them like I do with you, then hell, that would be it as far as I was concerned. You walk out on me now, John, after what you’ve just told me and you think I’ll get over it? I’ll never get over it. Not ever.”
“But I might hurt you!” Hannibal implored.
Face’s eyes were bright, determined. “You walk out of that door without me and you will. Dead cert.”
“Face...” Hannibal was desperate, imploring, “What else can I do?”
And Face met him more than half way, leaning right in across the table, his eyes wide and so despairing. “You can come back with me, you can apologise to the others and move on. You can put this whole pile of shit behind you and look to the future instead!”
“But I can’t trust myself!” he admitted, his fingers latching on to Face’s on the table top with a mind of their own.
“I can trust you,” Face soothed him.
But Hannibal was sceptical, “How?” he muttered.
“Because you are a good man, John Smith,” Face replied instantly, his own fingers rubbing back into Hannibal’s. “And you have given yourself such a shock with this; I know that you won’t do it again.”
Hannibal shook his head, “You can be sure of that can you?”
“Yes. Because I won’t let you.”
Hannibal shook his head thinking back to the fateful events in Monroe, “And how would you stop it?”
Face’s fingers were still stroking, soothing, warm points of contact in an otherwise cold, cold world. “I wouldn’t let things get as bad as they did. I should have talked to you, explained how I felt. I should have tried to discuss our position instead of sulking. I should never have said I didn’t respect you.”
A frown creased Hannibal’s brow, “But if that was how you felt-”
“It wasn’t. It’s not. I was trying to hurt you, I told you that,” there was no missing the imploring tone to Face’s voice.
“This is such a mess, kid...” Hannibal exhaled with a long sigh.
“Don’t let it be,” Face’s words were almost running together in his haste to get them out. “Come back with me, don’t let this ruin everything.”
“I don’t know...” Hannibal admitted.
The waitress suddenly appeared into their little bubble of life and they drew back slightly, fingers withdrawing even as Face flashed her his best killer smile. She blushed and refilled Hannibal’s coffee then, promising a cup for Face as well, retreated.
Face turned back, “Please boss,” and there was a catch in his voice that tore at Hannibal’s heart. “Please don't leave me, I am begging you. Can’t you see how important this is to me? You leaving will destroy me, you’re all I’ve ever wanted, please don't turn me away.”
Hannibal dropped his head into his hands, “Face...”
“You said you loved me,” Face’s voice was rough, torn, bleeding, “was that a lie?”
“No!”
“Then how can you?” Hannibal forced himself to look up, see those bright blue eyes shining with tears, “How can you even think of leaving me alone? No one to hold me through the night, no one to help me through the shit our lives throw at us? And who will help you, boss? Johnny Walker? Don’t think I don’t know how you have spent the last week...”
But Hannibal just shook his head, his heart threatening to break inside him at the tragic expression on the earnest face staring over at him. “Please.” Face was shaking, “You ever heard me beg before, boss? You want me on my knees? You want me to do it in front of all these people? ‘Cause I will. Anything to make you come back to me.” A single tear, hastily brushed away, escaped from his eye.
And still Hannibal shook his head, “I can’t hurt you again.”
“Good,” Face lifted his head defiantly, “then you’ll come back.”
Silence fell, broken only by the quiet murmur of conversation, the clattering of cups and the distant drone of the station announcer. The two men stared at each other, both trying to work the other out, a fierce battle of wills going on right under the noses of patrons and commuters alike.
Eventually, there was a winner, Hannibal let out a long sigh and felt his shoulders sag under Face’s stare. “If I,” he had to stop and clear his throat, the lump in it making speech almost impossible. “If I ever raise my fists to you again,” he whispered voice raw and wretched, “then I am walking, for good this time. You understand me?”
“You won’t,” Face reassured him instantly, “you know you won’t.”
“I wish I did,” Hannibal muttered ruefully.
The heavy stare started up again, this time only broken when the corners of Face’s mouth twitched up into a hesitant little half smile, one that Hannibal couldn’t help but return.
“Shall we then?” Face whispered, pushing his chair back from the table.
But Hannibal paused, “You sure about this?”
Face didn’t pause. “Positive,” he shot back.
Hannibal was still far from convinced. “And the others?”
Face’s half smile grew a little wider, “They told me not to come back without you.”
Hannibal looked at him, poised between sitting and standing and saw the desperation still shining in his eyes, the conviction that Hannibal wouldn’t let him down. He just hoped to god the kid was right. He exhaled hard through his mouth, “Alright then,” he pushed back his own chair, “let’s bite the bullet.”
Relief and exhaustion swept through Face’s expression in one wave of feeling. For a second it looked as if he was going to lose the battle with all the moisture in his eyes, but then it was gone, beaten back inside as a genuine smile finally found his mouth. Hannibal felt his heart swell at the sight and swore to himself that all this faith the kid had in him would never go unfulfilled, he would move heaven and hell to be the best he could be for him for the rest of his days. He wondered what he had ever done in his life that was so wonderful he deserved this man’s love.
He pushed up from his seat and reached down to pick up his kit bag from the floor under the table, but Face was there before him, reaching round, his fingers gripping the handle and heaving it out. “Here, let me get that for you, boss,” he offered, his eyes shining in obvious love.
But Hannibal’s hand went there as well, trying to push Face’s fingers away. “No, leave it. I’ve got it, it’s really heavy...”
But Face wasn’t going to be put off. They straightened up together, one hand from each of them on the handle at the same time. “I know,” Face told him quietly. “And you’ve been carrying it round on your back all alone ever since that motel. Let me help you with it now.”
Hannibal froze, his stomach doing cartwheels, and as he looked into Face’s eyes, so, so close to his own, he knew without a shadow of doubt that Face was not talking about the damn bag anymore. He couldn’t speak, could only force down a swallow around the huge lump in his throat and nod, tersely as Face smiled at him, took the kit bag onto his own shoulders and turned for the exit, making sure that Hannibal was right behind him.
But Face just shook his head, “That’s not it.”
And again Hannibal was confused, “It’s not about prison?”
“It is,” Face rubbed at his mouth again, “but going back in – it’s nothing to do with beating people off my ass. I mean, yeah, I had to do that, but since when was that any different from the army? From college? From the Catholic care system? I can do that, Hannibal, it’s what I have had to do my whole life.”
He paused and Hannibal frowned, “So...?”
Face shook his head, “You still don't get it? Being in jail, John? I couldn’t do that again, not for five fucking minutes and it’s nothing to do with men in general, it’s all to do with you.”
There was a stunned pause. “Me?”
“Yes you.” Face took a deep breath and made sure he was holding Hannibal’s eyes, “And the way that I can’t live without you. The way that every second of my life is about being with you. About how I live for those moments when it’s just us and you look at me like I’m something other than your ‘go get’ guy... About how I love you with everything I am.”
Beat. “Face. I...”
Face leaned back from the table, “I know, boss, just forget it,” he scrubbed at his face. “Back in the motel I was trying to push you into exploding, I thought you might grab me and yell at me and maybe kiss me and tell me how pissy I was being and that really, you just loved me.”
Hannibal stared, the disbelief etched all over his features, “Face...”
“I know,” Face let out a mirthless laugh, “Stupid. Got more than I bargained for there though didn’t I?”
“Nothing can excuse the way I behaved.” Hannibal’s voice was low.
“I know.”
Face dropped his head again and felt Hannibal’s long exhale as it ruffled the top of his hair. “I wish you had talked to me, about this, told me how you felt.”
And Face laughed his empty laugh again, “Really? You really wish that?” he looked up again, “What would you have done, then boss, if I had sat you down and said, ‘You know all this fucking we’ve been doing recently? Well, I’ve actually decided that it’s not fucking for me, it’s making love, and I love you, and I want us to be together, like, properly, you know? Forever.’ What would you have done, boss, then? After you’d stopped laughing of course.”
“I wouldn’t have laughed.” Hannibal’s voice was almost too low to hear.
“No?” Face considered him, “You’d have beaten me up?”
“No,” Hannibal dragged his own eyes from his coffee and fixed Face with his stare. “I’d have told you I love you back.”
Now it was Face’s turn to be stunned. “Jesus Christ...” he eventually muttered.
“Yeah.”
There were a few more minutes of silence as Hannibal sipped his cold coffee and thought hard while Face just seemed to be reeling.
Eventually it was Face that broke the silence, “So,” he cleared his throat, “what happens now?”
Hannibal looked up with sorrow in his eyes, “What else is there to do? I still have to leave.”
“Why?”
Forcing himself to keep eye contact, Hannibal tried to keep the devastation off his face, “Because of what I did. Because I betrayed your trust and hurt you,” he explained quietly.
But Face’s eyes bored into his, determination burning in their blue ice. “What if I don’t want you to leave? What if I can’t stand it?”
“Well, you’d be a fool then,” now it was Hannibal’s turn for dry laughter. “Who’s to say I wouldn’t do it again, maybe without Murdock there to stop me in time?”
“So, you’d rather I’d live with this fucking great hole in my life then, boss?” the bitterness was back in Face’s voice.
“I’d rather you live,” Hannibal interjected.
But Face wasn’t prepared to give this up, not at all, “And we would do that, the team I mean, without you there with us? Being our boss? Making the plans?”
Shaking his head sadly, Hannibal forced himself to ignore the pain in Face’s eyes, “I don’t think BA or Murdock would want me back under any circumstances at all.”
“You’re wrong,” Face was leaning over the table again, their fingers just brushing. “Murdock has been in a right state over the way he talked to you. And BA’s been wanting to pick you up all week.”
“Nice try, kid. Don’t forget I spoke to him on the phone yesterday.”
“No, you didn’t,” the earnest look in Face’s expression was convincing. “Not really. That was me, everything he said I told him to. I knew you would be beating yourself up over this, knew you wouldn’t come if you thought we were going to try and change your mind. Or of you knew I was coming, I had to help him out a bit.”
Hannibal frowned, “You played me?”
“I tried to.”
For the first time in days and days the edge of a smile pulled at Hannibal’s lips, “When did you ever get so sneaky you could fool me?”
Face had his own answering almost smile, “Learnt from the best, boss.”
The smiles didn’t last though. Within seconds Hannibal was massaging his temples, his eyes on Face across the table, “It doesn’t change anything though, we can’t go back to how things were before.”
“Well, why not go forward instead then?” Face responded as quick as a flash.
“I can’t,” Hannibal almost moaned. “How can I risk that happening again? How can I put you in danger like that?”
“Huh,” Face parried, “I’m in danger every damn day of my life, boss.”
“Not from me you’re not,” Hannibal shot back.
Silence fell, and Face was now the one rubbing at his head, although Hannibal wasn’t sure if that was anything to do with the pain, or just to make him think more clearly. “So...” he eventually asked Hannibal, “I don’t get this. What exactly are you worried about?”
“That I will hurt you,” Hannibal explained quietly, “maybe even worse the next time.”
Face chewed his lip, “You certain there’s going to be a next time?”
“No! But... Hell, Face,” he shook his head, disgust in his face, “I did it the once...”
Face watched him carefully, “So you would choose maybe hurting me one day over definitely hurting me now?”
“What?”
“Still not listening to me, boss?” the frustration was evident in Face’s eyes, “What did I say to you? I love you. You think walking out on me now isn’t going to hurt?”
“You’ll get over it,” Hannibal answered brusquely, “It’s for the best in the long run.”
“I’ll get over it?” there was anger in that voice, “Boss, do you have any idea what life has been like for me? How I have spent my entire existence searching for that elusive something, that elusive someone? Do you have any idea of the number of women, men and in-betweens I have fucked? And when I found you, all those years ago, I just knew. You have no idea what you do for me, how you tie up all my loose ends. All I’ve ever wanted was to be the most important person in the world for somebody; to have somebody think of me that way. And if I could feel that back for them like I do with you, then hell, that would be it as far as I was concerned. You walk out on me now, John, after what you’ve just told me and you think I’ll get over it? I’ll never get over it. Not ever.”
“But I might hurt you!” Hannibal implored.
Face’s eyes were bright, determined. “You walk out of that door without me and you will. Dead cert.”
“Face...” Hannibal was desperate, imploring, “What else can I do?”
And Face met him more than half way, leaning right in across the table, his eyes wide and so despairing. “You can come back with me, you can apologise to the others and move on. You can put this whole pile of shit behind you and look to the future instead!”
“But I can’t trust myself!” he admitted, his fingers latching on to Face’s on the table top with a mind of their own.
“I can trust you,” Face soothed him.
But Hannibal was sceptical, “How?” he muttered.
“Because you are a good man, John Smith,” Face replied instantly, his own fingers rubbing back into Hannibal’s. “And you have given yourself such a shock with this; I know that you won’t do it again.”
Hannibal shook his head, “You can be sure of that can you?”
“Yes. Because I won’t let you.”
Hannibal shook his head thinking back to the fateful events in Monroe, “And how would you stop it?”
Face’s fingers were still stroking, soothing, warm points of contact in an otherwise cold, cold world. “I wouldn’t let things get as bad as they did. I should have talked to you, explained how I felt. I should have tried to discuss our position instead of sulking. I should never have said I didn’t respect you.”
A frown creased Hannibal’s brow, “But if that was how you felt-”
“It wasn’t. It’s not. I was trying to hurt you, I told you that,” there was no missing the imploring tone to Face’s voice.
“This is such a mess, kid...” Hannibal exhaled with a long sigh.
“Don’t let it be,” Face’s words were almost running together in his haste to get them out. “Come back with me, don’t let this ruin everything.”
“I don’t know...” Hannibal admitted.
The waitress suddenly appeared into their little bubble of life and they drew back slightly, fingers withdrawing even as Face flashed her his best killer smile. She blushed and refilled Hannibal’s coffee then, promising a cup for Face as well, retreated.
Face turned back, “Please boss,” and there was a catch in his voice that tore at Hannibal’s heart. “Please don't leave me, I am begging you. Can’t you see how important this is to me? You leaving will destroy me, you’re all I’ve ever wanted, please don't turn me away.”
Hannibal dropped his head into his hands, “Face...”
“You said you loved me,” Face’s voice was rough, torn, bleeding, “was that a lie?”
“No!”
“Then how can you?” Hannibal forced himself to look up, see those bright blue eyes shining with tears, “How can you even think of leaving me alone? No one to hold me through the night, no one to help me through the shit our lives throw at us? And who will help you, boss? Johnny Walker? Don’t think I don’t know how you have spent the last week...”
But Hannibal just shook his head, his heart threatening to break inside him at the tragic expression on the earnest face staring over at him. “Please.” Face was shaking, “You ever heard me beg before, boss? You want me on my knees? You want me to do it in front of all these people? ‘Cause I will. Anything to make you come back to me.” A single tear, hastily brushed away, escaped from his eye.
And still Hannibal shook his head, “I can’t hurt you again.”
“Good,” Face lifted his head defiantly, “then you’ll come back.”
Silence fell, broken only by the quiet murmur of conversation, the clattering of cups and the distant drone of the station announcer. The two men stared at each other, both trying to work the other out, a fierce battle of wills going on right under the noses of patrons and commuters alike.
Eventually, there was a winner, Hannibal let out a long sigh and felt his shoulders sag under Face’s stare. “If I,” he had to stop and clear his throat, the lump in it making speech almost impossible. “If I ever raise my fists to you again,” he whispered voice raw and wretched, “then I am walking, for good this time. You understand me?”
“You won’t,” Face reassured him instantly, “you know you won’t.”
“I wish I did,” Hannibal muttered ruefully.
The heavy stare started up again, this time only broken when the corners of Face’s mouth twitched up into a hesitant little half smile, one that Hannibal couldn’t help but return.
“Shall we then?” Face whispered, pushing his chair back from the table.
But Hannibal paused, “You sure about this?”
Face didn’t pause. “Positive,” he shot back.
Hannibal was still far from convinced. “And the others?”
Face’s half smile grew a little wider, “They told me not to come back without you.”
Hannibal looked at him, poised between sitting and standing and saw the desperation still shining in his eyes, the conviction that Hannibal wouldn’t let him down. He just hoped to god the kid was right. He exhaled hard through his mouth, “Alright then,” he pushed back his own chair, “let’s bite the bullet.”
Relief and exhaustion swept through Face’s expression in one wave of feeling. For a second it looked as if he was going to lose the battle with all the moisture in his eyes, but then it was gone, beaten back inside as a genuine smile finally found his mouth. Hannibal felt his heart swell at the sight and swore to himself that all this faith the kid had in him would never go unfulfilled, he would move heaven and hell to be the best he could be for him for the rest of his days. He wondered what he had ever done in his life that was so wonderful he deserved this man’s love.
He pushed up from his seat and reached down to pick up his kit bag from the floor under the table, but Face was there before him, reaching round, his fingers gripping the handle and heaving it out. “Here, let me get that for you, boss,” he offered, his eyes shining in obvious love.
But Hannibal’s hand went there as well, trying to push Face’s fingers away. “No, leave it. I’ve got it, it’s really heavy...”
But Face wasn’t going to be put off. They straightened up together, one hand from each of them on the handle at the same time. “I know,” Face told him quietly. “And you’ve been carrying it round on your back all alone ever since that motel. Let me help you with it now.”
Hannibal froze, his stomach doing cartwheels, and as he looked into Face’s eyes, so, so close to his own, he knew without a shadow of doubt that Face was not talking about the damn bag anymore. He couldn’t speak, could only force down a swallow around the huge lump in his throat and nod, tersely as Face smiled at him, took the kit bag onto his own shoulders and turned for the exit, making sure that Hannibal was right behind him.
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no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 09:16 am (UTC)And that last paragraph. DUDE. I sat there staring at the screen for a good 5 minutes just saying over and over to myself "that was GOOD".
you are, as ever, such a wonderful writer. you are an artist, my freind.
no subject
Date: 2011-11-27 04:20 pm (UTC)Hannibal being a jerk again! For real this time, but I suppose everyone has their off days!
Thanks for reading/reviewing!