The Long and Winding Road Hannibal/Face Part 10

[indigo_angels]

Ten minutes later Face was laid on the bed staring at the ceiling when a tentative knock sounded on the bedroom door. He ignored it.

 

“Face?” BA sounded strangely subdued. “They are on their way back. All went to plan. The cops have picked Pacitto and his boys up and he had the knife on him.”

 

Face didn’t answer.

 

 “The cops already have their DVD, gonna go and deliver these others now. You okay, man?”

 

He wasn’t and he didn’t even know why he wasn’t, but he took a deep breath, “Yeah.”

 

“Okay. See you later,” and Face listened to his footsteps slowly fade away.

 

_____________________________

 

An hour passed before the van’s engine rumbled into Face’s consciousness and he felt himself tense, swinging his legs off the bed so he was sitting with his back to the door. He could feel everything they had been through in the past two years coming to a head in these next few moments.

 

He didn’t have long to wait. Within a few minutes he heard slow measured footsteps on the stairs and then a knock at the door. He steeled himself. “Yeah?” and Hannibal slipped in, closing the door behind him and leaning on it.

 

“Kid,” and Face was relieved he was using a normal voice, not that ridiculously bright one he had the other day, “You alright? BA said you were a bit freaked out...”

 

“Course,” he ran a shaky hand through his hair and managed a bit of a strained smile, “It’s just been a tough few weeks that’s all.”

 

“Yeah...” Hannibal’s expression darkened just a little.

 

Face knew that this was the time where he was supposed to ask about the job, to check it had all gone okay, that the police would find Jessie’s DNA on that knife and the truth would be known about her murder, but somehow he just couldn’t force himself down that path. Pacitto had taken up far too much of his thoughts these last few days as it was. He cast his eyes around for something else to say instead and that’s when he noticed five or six carrier bags grasped firmly in Hannibal’s big hands. “You been shopping, boss?” he asked instead.

 

Hannibal glanced down at the bags as if he had forgotten they were there, then held them out towards Face, “Yeah, got these for you, knew you’d lost all your stuff, can’t go round in PJs the rest of your life...”

 

Taking the offered bags, Face glanced self-consciously down at the shorts and top he was wearing. BA had found him two sets and someone, Murdock he presumed had been washing one set out for him while he slept so he always had clean clothes to change in to. But Hannibal was right; wearing nothing but PJs for a week was sloppy. Not like Face at all.

 

He upended the first bag on the bed and sifted through it in silence. T-shirts, all the kind he liked, not those ones that twist as soon as you wash them, and no loud colours either, just perfect. Jeans, ready washed and in his size, trunks and socks, a hoody. Emptying the next bag he found a couple of pairs of cargos, a jacket, some shirts and a couple of fleeces. The next bag, a non-crease suit, complete with shirt, tie and waistcoat. “It’s not Armani or anything, but I thought it would tide you over...” Hannibal sounded awkward. 

 

Face nodded, his throat was too tight to speak.

 

He looked inside a Target bag and saw toiletries, all his usual brands, everything he needed. Then he came across another bag with a pair of boots and a pair of shoes in it and a third little box at the bottom of the bag holding a brand new iPod. Face just held it in his hand, staring.

 

Hannibal took the smallest of steps towards him, “I haven’t had chance to put anything on it yet, but BA says all your stuff is still on one of the laptops so it should be really easy to transfer it over...”

 

He put the iPod carefully down on top of the pile of clothes and reached for the last bag, his words to BA only that morning coming back to him, ’If he just told me how he felt, or showed me... I’d find it easier to believe.’ Is that was this was? It certainly felt like it. There was a warmth in his chest that he hadn’t felt in a long, long while.

 

The last bag was at his feet and he bent down to pick it up. It was large and flat and Face wondered absently what it could be as he dropped his hand inside and pulled out the contents. And then he froze. It was a kit bag.

 

His heart went into overdrive and he realised that Hannibal was talking to him but he couldn’t hear because of the pounding in his ears; this last bag just threw everything on its head. How could he have been so stupid? Thinking, just for a minute there that Hannibal had done all that for him, bought him all those things because he cared for him?

 

Of course he didn’t care for him, whoever did? He was a burden that’s all, a responsibility, like a problem child who never left home. And that’s what the bag and all the clothes were for, to help him leave. Hannibal’s message couldn’t be any clearer – he’d used up all his welcome here. It was time to go.

 

He was vaguely aware of Hannibal taking another step towards him and he turned to look, his mind still reeling.

 

“So,” Hannibal was watching him carefully, unsure of the look in his eyes, “BA said you had something you wanted to discuss with me? Something we should maybe talk about?”

 

Face looked down at the kit bag, and then back at Hannibal, “Yeah,” his voice sounded strangely tight, “You got me a passport too? Then I could leave the country and be out of your hair for good.”

 

Hannibal stepped back and looked at him, his brows drawing together, then he turned and walked silently out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him as he went.

 

Face stood for a minute, chest rising and falling with the effort of getting himself back under control, then he started folding all the clothes and packing them into the damn kit bag.  Definitely time to go.

 

______________

’I know what it takes to move on; I know how it feels to lie.

All I want to do is trade this life for something new.

Holding on to what I haven’t got...’

 

He was up and dressed before it was even properly light, he’d hardly slept all night anyway so it was no hardship. He’d chosen the jeans and frowned at the way they hung off his hips even though they were the right size, he supposed he must have lost some weight recently. He felt something in his pocket and slid his hand in, pulling out a tightly rolled wad of notes and his heart twisted; Hannibal obviously wanted rid of him so badly.

 

He pushed the money back into his pocket, he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t need it, but left the iPod on the bed, somehow if felt wrong to take that, and he crept out of the room. His stomach growled as he stole down the stairs, he hadn’t eaten at all yesterday, but he avoided the kitchen, he just needed to get out and would get something once he saw a takeout place somewhere. His hand was on the door handle and he paused, knowing that what he was doing here could never be reversed; once he walked out of the door, there was no going back. His gaze fell on the kit bag at his side and his mind was made up, he opened the door and slid out onto the gravelled drive.

 

The white van was parked on the drive but Face ignored it, wincing as he hoisted the kit bag onto his shoulder he headed for the road with the intention of getting a cab.

 

The early morning was deathly quiet, only a few birds welcoming another cloudy day when a voice rang out from behind him, making him jump out of his skin. “Need a lift somewhere, kid?”

 

It was Hannibal. Of course it was. Sitting on the top rail of the fence next to the garage, cup of coffee in his hand and carefully neutral expression on his features.

 

Face was speechless, he could only stare back. Caught red handed.

 

Hannibal slid off the fence and placed his empty coffee cup on the ground, “Don’t worry,” there was a tone of defeat in his voice that Face didn’t like to hear, “I won’t try and talk you into staying. I’m just offering you a ride.”

 

Still Face didn’t answer.

 

“So, where you going?” Hannibal drew the van keys out of his pocket, “Airport?”

 

Face cleared his throat, “No, Greyhound,” he’d already decided on that. A nice long over land trek would give him time to think.

 

Hannibal nodded, “Sure, hop in,” and walked around to the driver’s door.

 

Face stood undecided for a moment, then slowly walked to the van, throwing his bag into the back and sliding into the passenger’s seat, missing the look of relief that washed over Hannibal’s tired face.

 

’Flying at the speed of light,
Thoughts were spinning in my head,
So many things were left unsaid,
It's hard to let you go...’

 

_____________________

The engine rumbled into life and Hannibal drove slowly along the drive, picking up speed as soon as they were on the road and headed back towards Chicago. Neither one of them spoke until they hit the toll way when Hannibal broke the silence, his voice quiet under the sound of the engine, “Look, kid,” his fingers were white on the steering wheel as he stared straight out of the windshield, “I said I wouldn’t try to keep you here, and I’m not. If this is what you want to do, then that’s fine.” Face curled his hands up into fists, “I just know this has all been hard on you and I want you to know your options.”

 

Face didn’t speak.

 

Hannibal glanced at him then back to the road. “As far as I am concerned, you are still part of this team and always will be, so if you ever want to come back...” his voice tailed off.

 

“I won’t,” Face bit back, “There’s no point.”

 

Hannibal’s head bowed just slightly. “Face, I’m just trying to be civil here. I know you are pretty wiped out with losing Jessie. I know you...” Hannibal swallowed hard, “loved her. I’m offering you options, not pressure.”

 

Face turned to him, “Loved her?” the words were out of his mouth before he had chance to stop them, “I didn’t love her, not like I love-” you. He stopped himself just in time and looked back out of the windshield, “Not in the way you think anyway. I mean she was great, you would have liked her,” Hannibal seriously doubted that, “She was smart and funny and really sassy,” a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, “But I was never in love with her.” He let himself drift in his memories for a while, “We were on our way to see you, I couldn’t wait for her to meet Murdock, she was just made for him...”

 

Hannibal looked over sharply, only Face would ever sleep with the girl he was lining up for his best friend, only Face... he shook his head. But what else was that he’d said? He didn’t love her? “You were on your way back?”

 

“Yeah,” Face’s throat was tight again and he turned his head away from Hannibal to stare out of the side window.

 

Hannibal watched him for a moment, “Why?”

 

Face just shrugged his shoulders.

 

“Face,” Hannibal’s voice had that intense pitch to it that gave Face goose bumps, “I need to know, kid, why were you coming back?”

 

“I don’t know!” Face muttered back, sounding like a petulant teenager.

 

They were just coming up to Paul Douglas Forest Preserve and Hannibal swung the van off the road, stopping at a pull in point just in the trees, right next to the picnic area. He killed the engine and swung in his seat to face his lieutenant, “I need to know, Face... please...” his voice was so low Face could almost feel it in his chest.

 

Face turned on him, “Why? Why do you need to know? What possible fucking difference would it make if you knew now?”

 

“It makes all the difference.”

 

“It makes none!” Face was livid. He was tired, hurt and confused, his body ached from head to foot with the effort of just being upright and moving about and he had no idea how he was going to get through even the next week without Hannibal and his team to support him, never mind the rest of his life; but Hannibal had backed him into a corner, and so he came out fighting. “No difference at all! It won’t change your mind, won’t change that you’ve had enough of me, that I’m just in your way. Won’t change that I’m not good enough for this team or for you and your fucking ridiculously high standards, won’t change that you just want me gone! So what if I was coming back to you ‘cause I couldn’t fucking live another day without you? So what? It doesn’t fucking matter!!!”

 

He was out of the door and storming away without even being aware of it, but then there was a firm hand on his arm hauling him back until he collided with the side of the van and had to bite back a shout of pain.   

 

“Who said any of that?!” anger shone in Hannibal’s eyes as well, “Who said I didn’t want you?”

 

“You didn’t need to!” Face was still shouting, “You never came near me the whole time I was in that house, not once! You think that’s not message enough for me?”

 

“That’s not true...” Hannibal ground out his reply, “Apart from the first night, I was there with you all the time you were sleeping, I held you through your nightmares, and talked to you, comforted you, read to you. Every night, Face!”

 

Confusion swept through Face, stoking his anger higher, “While I was asleep? What was the hell point in that? Why only be there when I’m asleep? Why hide when I’m awake?”

 

Hannibal closed his eyes as he sighed and when he opened them again Face could see the pain in them, “Why do you think? You told me I was following you remember? You were trying to get away from me? You didn’t want me...”

 

Face frowned and then it all came back, carefully locked away memories suddenly piled into his head, Cabrini Green, Pacitto, that room... those wires... and he staggered under their weight. But there was a strong hand at his elbow and he looked up into Hannibal’s face, suddenly remembering that conversation in all its terrifying detail. He fought his way back to the present and hung on to Hannibal’s eyes, taking the strength he needed to get him through, “I was lying, boss,” all the fight had left him now, “couldn’t you see I was lying? I had to get you to leave, couldn’t let you die with me...”

 

And time froze as they looked at each other, really looked at each other for the first time in almost two years.

 

But then Hannibal looked away. “Kid... I can’t do this anymore,” and Face felt his already weak knees sag a little, “All this up and down,” he looked back at him, “I just can’t do it, it’s tearing me up.”

 

Face just stared. So what did that mean? He did want him, but he didn’t? God, his head was pounding again.

 

“I can’t live my life with you, waking up every morning and wondering if you have disappeared on me again,” he shook his head, “I can’t do that.”

 

Face lifted a shaking hand and put it tentatively on Hannibal’s cheek, “I’m done running, boss,” his voice was barely perceptible over the distant highway traffic, “Don’t know why I ever ran from you in the first place ‘cause I sure as hell can’t live without you, you’re everything to me, everything I have and everything I need.” He felt Hannibal’s hands on his hips, just lightly, mindful of the bruising, just offering support if he needed it, and he did, he always would. “You see the thing is,” he swallowed hard, “I love you, John, I’m in love with you, I’ve never said those words to anyone before and if I ever have to live another day without you I don’t think I...” And he had to break off and drop his head as his throat closed up and his eyes filled with moisture.

 

“You won’t, kid, you won’t. I’m here, I love you too, come here...” And suddenly Hannibal’s warmth was all around him, holding him up and warming him up and just putting the whole world back where it should be. And Face realised he was sobbing, really sobbing, into Hannibal’s neck, he just couldn’t help it, as everything he had been through in the last few weeks, everything he had been through and pushed to one side in his whole damn life was suddenly there, fighting for prominence in his head. He clung to Hannibal and let it all wash through him, knowing that when it came back, he wouldn’t have to face it on his own.

 

There was rain in the air by the time Face had cried himself out and he felt Hannibal pulling back from him as huge raindrops splattered their backs and shoulders and pinged off the van. He leaned back and let Hannibal tip his face up so they were eye to eye, “I’ll never leave you, Temp, never,” and there was a fierceness in his eyes that banished any lingering doubts from Face’s mind.

 

He nodded, “And I’ll never leave you, boss. I swear from the very depths of my soul.”

 

Hannibal smiled and gently squeezed Face’s good shoulder, the rain falling heavier now. And as Face watched, Hannibal’s expression changed, his eyes became darker, his whole face more intense, and Face’s cock jumped as he recognised that look. Slowly, very slowly, keeping eye contact for as long as he could, Hannibal moved in to kiss him.

 

 

Face just opened up and surrendered completely to Hannibal, letting the boss push him against the side of the van, a hand in his hair, a hand on his hip, and reclaim ownership of his mouth, his heart and his very soul. He felt like he’d been hauled from the sea on the brink of drowning and Hannibal was the oxygen he had been starved of for so long; he drank him in greedily just wanting more and more, his own hands reaching to hold his head in place, pulling his hips closer and closer.

 

The rain pounded onto them now, but Face hardly noticed. His hair was wet, huge raindrops ran down his face, washing away the salt left by his tears, Hannibal’s t-shirt was clinging to him under Face’s hands, but neither of them cared.

 

He needed this even more than he had realised, he was rock hard and couldn’t help pushing himself into Hannibal, ignoring the pain in his hip and feeling a thrill down his spine as he felt how hard the boss was in response. And then Hannibal’s hand on his hip moved, sliding round to the front, trying to push some space in between them so he could gain access to the buttons on his jeans, but he just couldn’t move away, couldn’t pull back to let even that tiny amount of space come between them.

 

It was like all the time they had been apart, he’d had this cold, empty hole in side of him, growing bigger with every day, threatening to get so big it swallowed him whole, and now Hannibal was filling it up, slowly pouring himself in. If Face pulled away now, before he was full, he may just fall apart again, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to survive that.

 

Hannibal seemed to understand. He stopped trying to prise them apart and instead reached over to open the side door of the van. As it opened, the support at Face’s back disappeared and he found himself falling backwards into the van; he braced himself, with busted ribs and Hannibal’s weight on top of him, he knew it was going to hurt. But the pain never came, Hannibal’s arm caught them both and rolled them to the floor of the van, kicking the sliding door closed with his foot, shutting out the rain and plunging them into darkness, and all the time, Face just kept drinking him in. He was breathing through his nose when he needed air, stroking Hannibal’s tongue with his own, licking through his boss’ mouth and his desperate hands just kept tugging him closer and closer, he could never get enough.

 

Then Hannibal’s thrusts started answering his own and he felt a moan surface deep in his throat. The boss’ mouth slipped from his and fell on his jawbone instead, tasting and nibbling while Face gasped air in through his mouth.

 

“Oh, God, kid...” there was a tremor in his voice that shot straight to Face’s hips and his thrusts became wild and erratic.

 

“I need... you...” Face stammered, mouth seeking his in the darkness, and then Hannibal was on him, pushing him into the floor of the van, mouth ravaging his, hips pounding out a desperate rhythm and Face felt himself being sucked down into the eye of the vortex. He pushed up as hard as he could, ignoring the blinding pain in his ribs, his shoulder, his hip, none of that mattered, all that mattered was this, fulfilling this desperate, primeval need inside him.

 

Then Hannibal’s rhythm stuttered and he moaned into Face’s mouth. Face felt an explosion of warmth over his jeans and with one last desperate thrust upwards he came as well, his release pulsing hard in his trunks, forcing all the fear and loneliness out with it and leaving him barely conscious of anything around him.

______________________

 

When he came back to himself he was laid in Hannibal’s arms, one hand stroking gently through his hair and he could just make out his boss’ worried expression in the gloom of the van. He smiled, a lazy, sleepy smile that still managed to light up his whole face and lifted a hand to rest on Hannibal’s flat stomach, “Hey, boss,”

 

He heard Hannibal’s answering chuckle, “Hey yourself,” but then the tone changed to one of concern, "Are you alright? Did I hurt you?”

 

“No,” Face replied grimacing in pain as he let Hannibal pull him up, “Shit, boss, that was... intense!”

 

“Hmmm,” Hannibal’s arm was around his back, keeping him upright, and Face could hear the doubt in his voice, “that’s one word for it,” Face frowned up at him, “I haven’t done that since I was about seventeen...”

 

A snort of laughter burst from Face’s lips, forcing him to grab his ribs as they complained, “You’re embarrassed? Oh, Christ, boss, that’s priceless,” he laughed again, figuring the pain was worth it, “Don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone I made you come in your pants!”

 

“I haven’t missed your idea of a joke, kid,” Hannibal muttered as he leaned Face up against the wall of the van, “but...” and his eyes were suddenly intense as his hand slid up to rest on his cheek, “...But, shit, I’ve missed every god damned other thing about you.”

 

The humour slid from Face’s expression in an instant as he looked into Hannibal’s eyes, “I’m done running, boss. I swear it.” 

 

And that brought another smile to the boss’ face, “I know, kid, I know you are.”

 

“And,” Face flicked his eyes down to the wet patch on the front of his jeans, “As intense as that was,” he looked back and held Hannibal’s fiercely blue eyes, “It wasn’t enough,” he reached out and let his hand slide up a hard muscled thigh, his voice barely a whisper, “I need you, John, inside me, I need you to...” and he trailed off, uncertain.

 

But Hannibal understood, he knew that Face needed to feel claimed, owned, possessed, needed, wanted... all of those things, and that was exactly what Hannibal would give him, but not now.

 

He bent down and dropped a kiss to Face’s swollen lips, pulling away as Face tried to deepen it, “Not here,” he whispered, an undercurrent in his voice Face didn’t understand, “We can go back to the house, or to a hotel, or whatever you want, Face, but just not here.”

 

Face frowned but nodded, “Okay, the house then?” He’d had enough of hotels to last an entire lifetime.

 

“The house,” Hannibal confirmed, helping Face into the front passenger seat of the van before sliding in himself and starting up the engine. He glanced sideways at his lieutenant, his friend, his lover as they pulled back onto the toll way, and smiled. Yeah, the house would be great, if he’d seen Face naked again in the back of this van... dark memories crowded at the edge of his mind and he tried to shake them away. The blood, the chains, the smell of piss... No, he never wanted to face that again. The house was a much better idea.

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