indigo_angels

They ordered pancakes and orange juice and coffee and sat and watched the world go by, walking or skating, jogging or cycling down the boardwalk. The conversation was light, Murdock was still suspicious of Face’s sudden change in mood, and they people watched, joked around a little and discussed the odd story that Face pulled out of the paper at his side. And then all the pancakes were gone.

“So,” Murdock wiped syrup and cream cheese from his mouth as he looked carefully at his friend. “What gives then?”

Face instantly grew serious, and his eyes drifted to the ocean, as he took a moment to compose his thoughts. Then, without looking back at Murdock he spoke, “I’m going to meet up with her.”

Murdock didn’t have to ask who, but he frowned a little at Face’s profile. “Are you sure? I mean, are you sure that’s what you want to do?”

Face exhaled long and hard and kept his eyes fixed on the line of breakers pounding up the beach. “You know, Murdock, these last few days I’ve had a lot of time to think things through. Think about me, who I am, what I am, and more importantly what I want out of my life.”

Murdock listened in silence.

“And I realised that I’ve been a lot of things in my life, good and bad, different things to different people. Like a bloody chameleon.” He let out a wry smile and Murdock smiled with him, he was right; Face had an ability like no other to be just exactly what you needed him to be at any one time. He’d often worried that that just meant Face was never who he wanted to be.

He sighed and finally turned back to face his friend, “But there’s one thing I’ve never been, HM, never, and that’s a coward.”

Shaking his head Murdock leant back in his seat and folded his arms. “You aint a coward Face, that’s why.”

Face didn’t answer. Instead he dropped his gaze to his coffee cup and held it for a minute, twisting it this way and that way as he watched the swirling liquid inside. “You know that day when I was standing in the door in my running gear?” he eventually asked in a quiet, pensive voice. “You ever wonder what all that was about? Why I wasn’t going out?”

Murdock just shrugged, he’d hoped at the time that Face had actually been waiting for him, wanting Murdock to come down so they could make up and go running together; he acknowledged now that that probably wasn’t the case.

“I was scared,” Face answered when Murdock did not. “Scared shitless that if I went out that door then she would find me again, that damn woman would pop up like some accursed genie and tell me more things about myself that I really didn’t want to know, coward that I am.” He shook his head and Murdock could see the self-disgust in his downcast eyes. “I only went out in the end because you were with me,” he looked up into Murdock’s face, that wry smile on his lips again, “you were my big brave protector and you didn’t even know it.”

Sensing more, Murdock didn’t speak. “And then the other day, back at the hotel, I was scared again, pretended I was asleep just in case Hannibal called around, and how pathetic is that? Scared of the man who means more to me than my own life?” Face looked away again, back out to sea, too ashamed to let Murdock see his eyes. “So I had time and I thought about things and I realised that this wasn’t the way I wanted to live, frightened of the two people who should mean the most to me in life,” he shook his head, “Crazy.”

For a few minutes they drifted into silence. Murdock didn’t know what to say to Face at this point. He could see why he would be scared of running into Hannibal and Adele again after that night, but he knew that Face would never accept it if he told him that it didn’t make him a coward.

Eventually Face dragged his eyes from the surf and back to Murdock. “So, I thought about all the things I could do to change that, how I could run away, disappear, send them away, tell them I didn’t want anything else to do with them ever again...” Murdock’s gut clenched at those words but Face pushed on, “But I knew that wasn’t any solution at all, it was just making it worse, stringing out this whole fucking mess for everyone concerned. Eventually it occurred to me that the only thing I could do was meet her, face this crap head on and just man up.” He shook his head disparagingly, “What I should have done from the start.”

Murdock thought this over and fidgeted awkwardly in his seat, “But Face – are you sure about this? I mean you don't owe her anything you know.”

“I know,” Face did seem quite certain of that fact, “and I think what you said before was true, that she doesn’t have the right to come back and put any kind of claim on me now.” Their eyes met. “She left me, Murdock, and I get what BA is saying, that maybe she had a good reason and all that but the thing is... I don't even care what that reason is anymore I really don’t, because whatever it was I am sure she didn’t have to leave me on the steps of a locked orphanage in the middle of the night, with no indication of my name, my age, who the hell I was. And even if she was forced into all that cloak and dagger stuff, that somehow it was dangerous for me to know anything about myself, surely she could have left me with something from her? A letter? A sentence that said I was loved and that at some point she had wanted me, and I wasn’t just one great big mistake that needed hiding and moving on from?” It was the most he had ever said on the subject and Murdock’s throat tightened in sympathy, those garbled words the best indication of how deeply her betrayal had hurt him.

“Whatever crap she was involved with, surely she could have done that? That one little thing that would have made such a difference to a little boy that nobody wanted?” Those questions were directed straight at Murdock and he found himself shrugging again, he didn’t know what to say. Could she? Couldn’t she? What the hell were the magic words that would ease Face’s pain?

As soon as it was clear that Murdock wasn’t going to solve his conflict with one simple sentence, Face carried on. “So, I don't want to meet her, Murdock. I wish she had stayed in whatever dark hole she’s been hiding in all these years but... she’ll haunt me every day of my life if I don’t see her, I’ll expect her around every street corner and in every cafe. How can I live like that?” His eyes were huge but frighteningly empty when Murdock looked up to meet them. “I have to see her and lay this whole issue to rest.”

Murdock blew out a breath, “Well, if you think that’s right Face...”

And Face leaned in, “What? You don’t?” Murdock just stared at him, “Come on Murdock, I value your opinion here. Tell me.”

Murdock rolled his tongue around his mouth and thought. The last thing he wanted to do was influence Face, but he also didn’t want to give the impression that he had any strong feeling either way. He looked over at his friend who was staring at him, leaning over the table, his expression expectant and sighed. He would tell the truth, that’s all he would do, just tell the truth. “I think she has the world’s allocation of cheek to turn up like this and expect you to just let her into your life,” he held Face’s eyes, “but I’ve never cared one way or the other whether you see her or not, all I’ve ever cared about is that you had the chance to make a decision on your own, without anyone else pushing you one way or the other.”

Face thought about this. “Anyone else? You mean Hannibal?”

“I mean anyone else.” Murdock was desperately trying to stay neutral. “And if you tell me that this is your decision and you have made it with your own benefit at heart, then I’m thrilled for you Face, thrilled that you get the chance to find out some truths after all this time.”

Face leant back in his seat and picked up the little sachet of sugar from his saucer, rolling it slowly in his fingers as he mulled Murdock’s words over in his mind. The silence was heavy and Murdock started fidgeting, squirming one way then the other in his seat and tapping the end of his shoe against the ground. Face didn't appear to notice. “So...” Murdock eventually asked when he could stand the silence no longer, “What happens with the bossman then?”

Letting one of those rueful little smiles slip out again, Face continued fiddling with the sugar, his eyes glued to the thin tube of paper as he twisted it in his fingers. “The thing is Murdock, about Hannibal...” he paused and Murdock could see the edges of a frown as it pulled on his eyebrows. He sighed, “You know as well as I do that I can’t get by without him, it’s not even worth the effort of trying.”

There was a long silence before Murdock could bring himself to respond in a calm manner. “That’s not true, Face. Stop selling yourself short.”

“It is.” Still Face wouldn’t look up.

Murdock leant in. “So...? What? You just gonna carry on like nothing ever happened?”

Face gave this some thought, “Hmm. Probably not, we’ll have to talk about things, but, well, it really wasn’t his fault.”

Now it was Murdock’s turn to frown. After the stresses of the last few days, he really couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “Really, Faceman? Do tell.”

At last Face looked up. “Well, it’s not the first time is it? That he’s tried to sort my life out for me? And why’s that?” Murdock shrugged and Face leant in, his eyes boring in to Murdock across the table. “Because I’ve never stopped him.” There was another silence. “It’s true isn’t it? You know what he’s like, his inclination to organise and arrange and me... well, I just let him, slid from one institution to the next to Hannibal, letting everyone else make my decisions for me. So when it comes to this and something that actually matters to me, well who can blame him for taking over again?”

Murdock was less than convinced. “He didn’t have the right to make that decision for you.”

“Maybe not,” a flush of red came to Face’s cheeks, “but it’s not like I was doing a lot of decision making myself was it?”

“But that was your decision, Temp!” Murdock could feel his anger stirring that Face would happily blame himself in this way. “If that’s what you wanted to do, regardless of whatever he thought, he should have let you!”

Face just resignedly shook his head. “He was only doing what he thought was right for me.”

“Stop defending him,” Murdock knew he was being snappy, but honestly, this was beyond nuts. He folded his arms, “And you know what? I’m still worried you’re only doing this for him; meeting with her because it’s what he wants.”

But Face just smiled sadly at him. “I’ve told you, I’m doing this ‘cause I’m fed up of being scared,” he shook his head. “I mean HM, scared? I’m a fucking ranger baby!”

_______________________________

Hannibal watched the pasta in the pan as it bobbled frantically in the boiling water. He reached out and stirred it through, making sure it wasn’t sticking to the bottom of the pan before turning his attention back to the cheese sauce that was just coming up to the boil. There was something hypnotic in staring at the thick creamy liquid as each bubble slowly rose beneath the surface only to pop with a satisfying level of violence; he wondered if it was a metaphor for his relationship with Face.

Five days now. Another bubble popped and Hannibal felt like they were bubbles of hope, each one rising up within him only to burst as another day went by with no word from him at all.

He needed to face facts, the kid wasn’t coming back. He picked up the wooden spoon and absently circled it around the pan, as he thought about Face and how, really he didn’t blame him one little bit for staying away. Every time Hannibal thought about what he’d done, how he’d disregarded every damn thing Face had said to him, everything he hadn’t said, every little hidden hurt and sliver of damage that Hannibal had failed to acknowledge... no he didn’t blame him at all.

Didn’t mean he didn’t want him back though, didn’t mean he didn’t want to go and see him either, there was nothing he wanted more than that chance to explain, attempt to salvage a tiny little crumb of hope from the situation. Right now he would settle for Face just agreeing to stay on the team, maybe even agreeing to work on a friendship with Hannibal, he wasn’t stupid enough to think that their more intimate relationship could survive this, the fact that Face had stayed well, well clear of him ever since the night of the restaurant proved that to him. For twenty years they had been lovers. More than a lifetime for some, more than half a life time for Face, all destroyed in one stupid act of betrayal. He could not believe that he had been so, so stupid.

He heard the back door open behind him and quickly shook himself back into action, stirring the sauce again, muttering under his breath as he felt it sticking to the base of the pan, realising that he’d told BA that the mac and cheese would be ready about half an hour ago.

He cleared his throat, “Okay, big guy,” he said, trying to force his voice to sound as natural as possible, “you go and wash up and I’ll have this dished out in a couple of minutes.” BA didn’t answer and Hannibal frowned, hoping that he wasn’t pissed that lunch was late; a sullen BA was just about the last thing he could deal with right now. “Alright?” he queried as he started draining the pasta, “Problem with the spark plugs?”

“John...” but the voice that answered wasn’t BA’s and he suddenly realised that the person standing behind him wasn’t BA either. With an ear splitting clang he dropped the pan into the sink and spun on the spot, caught uncharacteristically off guard.

Face.

They stared at each other in silence for a moment, Hannibal’s eyes raking over his lieutenant, drinking every little bit of him in. All things considered, Face looked good, he was pale, looked a little thinner around the cheek bones maybe and his eyes were red rimmed and bloodshot, but Hannibal had been remembering how he had looked when Sosa had given him back his ring and walked out of the door on him. The sight of him curled on the floor, sobbing, totally unaware of the world around him, smelling of alcohol and vomit and urine... Those days of hell would always stay with Hannibal, and ever since the restaurant they were all he could remember, the fact that he was the one who had done that to Face this time, all he could think about.

“Kid...” he whispered, his voice rough, that little familiar endearment slipping out all on its own. He ran a shaking hand through his hair, wishing he’d bothered to wash it in the shower, run a comb through it when he got out, shave even. He had no right to look worse than Face, not when what he had done had been so completely heinous. “I’m...” he stuttered to a halt, the words he needed completely deserting him right now.

Face let out a long breath and perched on a stool against the breakfast bar. “Hannibal,” his eyes were steady as they fixed his lover across the room. “We have to talk.”

With his heart heavy and full of dread, Hannibal turned and switched the ring under the cheese sauce off. “I know.” He looked back at Face, “You want to do it in here?”

Looking back out of the window at BA and Murdock talking in the driveway Face shook his head. “No,” he replied. “Upstairs?”

Hannibal nodded and in silence they filed out of the kitchen.

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