A Mother's Love - Part Thirteen
Oct. 10th, 2011 08:51 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_angelsThere was silence for almost five minutes as Face stood with his back to the room looking out of the window at the quiet street below. Hannibal perched on the edge of the dresser across the room from him, the bed like a huge gaping chasm between them. He wondered exactly where in all of this mess Face wanted to start, but then realised that the obligation probably fell onto him to make the first move. He straightened his back and took a deep breath. “Face. I’m sorry. Really and truly, kid, every damn thing I have done since I met that woman was wrong and I wish with all my heart I could take it back and we could start again.”
He saw Face’s shoulders slump a little. “So do I.”
Hannibal knew he needed more. “I should have told you about her straight away, I shouldn’t have pressurised you so much, I most certainly should never have arranged that fucking meeting in La Maison... Everything I did was wrong. I am so sorry.”
There was a pause and Hannibal held his breath. He could see the rigid set to Face’s back and he knew the way that the kid responded to those words would be the making or breaking of their relationship.
“I know. Forget it. It’s fine.”
He was stunned. “Fine?” he hadn’t expected that. “Face - it’s not fine! I...” And then it struck him that perhaps there was more to this, much, much more and his blood ran cold. “What is it, kid? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Face turned from the window and gave him a weary smile. “I know you were trying to look out for me and so it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
Slowly, Hannibal pushed away from the dresser and to his feet, his heart was thumping hard against his ribs and he could feel the cold sweat on his palms. “How can I not worry about it? I’m worrying even more now. This is so far from fine it’s not even possible!” He took another step in. “Why are you being like this? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Face shook his head, his eyes so sad that Hannibal felt his own tear up in response. “Hannibal, I should have trusted you. I should have talked to you, I should have told you more about how I was feeling.” He shook his head slowly, “How were you supposed to do the best thing for me when you had no idea what was going on in my head?”
Hannibal was confused, so confused and he hated it, he always liked to be three steps ahead in any situation, “Face – this isn’t your fault.”
“Maybe. But it isn’t yours either. You were just doing what you have always done and I have always let you. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have stopped you right from the start instead of just running away all the time. I’ve done a lot of that in my life, running away, and it all stops now. I’m a Ranger, time I started acting like one.”
Hannibal frowned, “What have you ever run away from?” In country, Face was one of the bravest men he had ever known.
His question was met with a wry smile. “Anything I don’t like about myself, and there’s plenty of that.” Hannibal just stared at him as he squared his shoulders. “It’s time to stop; it’s time to face some hard, unpleasant facts.”
“Like what?” Hannibal didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed.
“Like, well the way I went off the deep end when Charisa left.” Face held Hannibal’s eyes, his hands still in his pockets as he stood in front of the window. “We never talked about that, boss, did we? And then it happened again, this week, and maybe that was just because we hadn’t ever talked about it in the first place.”
But Hannibal’s mind went back to the look on the lieutenant’s face back in La Maison and he knew exactly why Face had dropped off the deep end again. “I shouldn’t have forced you into that meeting.”
Face considered this. “No. But I shouldn’t have run off when you wanted to explain to me why you did.”
“You were hurt.”
“I was. I still am,” Hannibal could see the determination in Face’s expression, “and I’m not going to run away from that feeling anymore.”
Hannibal sank to the bed, knowing, despite everything Face had said, that the troubles of the last few days were all his doing. “That meeting I set up with your mother,” he explained, “I don't even have a good reason, you know. I just thought I knew better than you did what you needed.”
Face smiled an empty smile, dropping on to the mattress next to Hannibal, a whole metre of empty space between them. “Maybe you’re right. I’ve never been such a great judge of what’s good for me.”
They sat in silence, each staring at the wardrobe doors in front of them, each thinking over the circumstances that had brought them to this point.
“Jesus, Face,” Hannibal breathed eventually, “how have we managed to get ourselves into such a huge fucking hole? And what the hell do we do about it now?”
The reply was so quiet he almost missed it, “Well, that depends on what we want.”
“I want you.” Hannibal turned to look at the side of Face’s bent head. “I’ve always wanted you and nothing will ever change that. I love you with everything that I am.” Silence met his words and for a torturous two minutes he just watched Face as Face stared at the carpet between his feet. Eventually he turned away, blowing out a shaky breath as he turned his eyes back to the wardrobes. “But, you don’t feel like that about me, obviously,” he whispered with his breath.
Face’s head snapped up, “Oh, I do! I absolutely do!” Hannibal met his eyes and could see that Face meant his words, “I just...” Face shook his head, “I feel bad Hannibal, the me you think you love doesn’t exist, I’m a completely different person.”
Hannibal frowned at him. “How’s that? I’ve spent twenty years with you Face. How can I not know you?”
The reply was instant, “Because I don’t even know myself.”
“Kid, I’m confused,” Hannibal’s frown deepened with his words.
Face steeled himself and turned back to the wardrobes. This would be much easier without having to look at Hannibal’s face as he heard the truth. His voice was low and shaky as he spoke, “I’ve started having dreams about when I was a kid,” he told Hannibal. “About when I still lived with her, and... well, things are different now.”
“Different how?” Hannibal tried to see Face’s expression, “I’m still lost here...”
Face’s voice was almost a whisper, “It seems we lived in a trailer and she was an alcoholic who didn’t really want me around. I’m an accidental bastard, Hannibal, not the person you thought I was.”
Hannibal took a moment to process this information, to decide how he should deal with it before he replied. “Face, the person I thought you were is you, and all that other stuff? That’s nothing to do with who you are, that’s how you lived. It’s different, totally different.”
Face shook his head, staring at the floor again. “But... How can you say that? How can you think it doesn’t matter?”
“Because it doesn’t!” This time the reply was instant. “Hell, Face, is this why you have been so distant with me? Because you were worried what I would think?” Face’s silence told him everything he needed to know and Hannibal bit back a sigh, he needed to chose his words very carefully to make Face understand him here. “I knew within four weeks of meeting you that you were an orphan,” he told him quietly. “I knew you’d faked that letter from your ‘parents’ to get into the Army and contacted a friend of mine back home to do some digging on you to get to the truth. He was good and found some things out, so I knew you’d been abandoned.” Hannibal could see the tips of Face’s ears and his cheeks had flushed red but he continued; Face was right, they’d stepped around these issues far too often in the past.
“Over the next year or so I put together as much information as I could on, but then you told me everything anyway. As our relationship grew, you trusted me enough to let me in and that meant so much to me.”
Face didn’t move and his voice was tight. “You never told me that.”
“No,” Hannibal exhaled. “It was never the right time, your trust was so fragile at first that I didn’t dare. And then it all seemed like so much water under the bridge, so no. I never got around to it.”
“But now?”
Hannibal was under no illusion at all about ‘now’. “Well, it’s now or never really isn’t it kid? I get the feeling that any more secrets might just blow this whole gig completely out of the water.”
Again, Face was silent.
“But anyway, the point I am trying to make is that I have always known your past could have been anything, absolutely anything at all, and that has never been an issue for me. I wasn’t in love with your past; I was in love with you.”
“And now?” the fear in Face’s voice was clear.
“Nothing’s changed,” Hannibal reassured him. “I love you, not how you used to live.”
Silence descended again and Face dropped his head into his hands, fingers tightening in his hair and Hannibal knew he was grappling with something; he waited.
Eventually Face looked up, his expression tight. “I’ve misjudged you.”
Hannibal’s mouth twisted into a flat smile, “I think we’ve misjudged each other.”
Face held his eyes and Hannibal could see his expression pale again and the way his mouth tightened; he braced himself, he knew the next words out of Face’s lips would not be ones he wanted to hear. “I’ve not always been faithful to you, John,” and he was right.
He dropped his eyes to the carpet, feeling Face’s stare on the back of his head, “I know,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.
It was as if the entire room froze at his words and he flicked his eyes up to take in Face’s stunned expression, those bright blue eyes fixed on Hannibal with the naked fear shining through. He shook his head and looked back at the dull grey carpet. “I’m not stupid, kid,” his voice sounded tired even to his own ears. “Nights you didn’t come back until late, stupid excuses, times when you were supposed to be staying over with Murdock.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I know there have been others, men and women. But I found some condoms in your stuff once and hoped you cared enough about us to keep me safe.”
In the silence following his words it was almost as if he could hear the house breathing.
“Jesus, boss,” Face’s voice was rough, broken. “I’m so sorry.” Another long pause, “But - you never said anything...”
Hannibal laughed, a dry, sad, laugh. “I’m an old man compared to you. The fact that you ever wanted me at all always blew my mind; it seemed only natural to me that you would need others to supplement what I could give you. And you always came back,” he shrugged. “How could I not be happy when you always came back?”
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Face turn to him, “They were never ‘supplements’, Hannibal!” he retorted. “Sometimes I just needed sex. Cold, empty, sex. I couldn’t use you for that so I went elsewhere, seemed to make sense at the time,” he frowned, wondering why it didn’t now. “Plus it added to my reputation, kept the heat off us...” he let his words drift away, knowing they were empty, meaningless in the face of what he had done. At the sight of Hannibal’s bent head, so dejected, defeated even, he tried once more, anything to get the boss to understand his logic, however warped it may be. “And of course I always came back,” he whispered, “After a night of empty, meaningless sex, coming back to you... Christ boss, it always made me realise how much I loved you.”
Another laugh, bitter this time, “But it didn’t stop you doing it again?”
“No. It didn’t.”
Silence fell again as both men stared at the floor trying to absorb what they had learnt about each other in the last ten minutes, what they had learnt about themselves.
“I don’t know what to say, John,” Face’s throat was so tight it hurt to speak, “I had no idea you knew. I never would have continued to hurt you like that. And at the time...” he shook his head, wishing he could turn the clock back. “I suppose it seemed like a good idea... I am so sorry.”
Hannibal turned to look at him, “See? You think I don't know you at all, but I do. I knew all that about you and I still loved you. Still love you now.”
Face returned his look, “I’m a fucking idiot.”
They watched each other carefully and Hannibal’s eyes narrowed as he considered. “But, well, I thought you hadn’t done it so much recently - since prison.” He shrugged, “I haven’t noticed it, anyway.”
Face shook his head emphatically, “No. I didn’t feel the need. I’d missed you so damn much while we were locked up, knew that we might never get the chance to be together again. Gave me the time to realise what I’d been risking. And all the coldness, the desperation I used to feel inside, when I would want release no matter what, I hadn’t felt that since prison either.”
For a second, Hannibal nodded, but then his eyes darkened as Face’s words hit him. “Hadn’t? Until when?”
Face forced himself to hold Hannibal’s stare and took a deep breath, “After La Maison...” he whispered, his voice shaking.
That made no sense to Hannibal and he frowned, thoughtful, “But... How? I thought you were with Murdock?” Face just looked and Hannibal felt the icy cold blast of horrific realisation wash through him, “Murdock? Oh, Jesus Christ...”
Face just crumbled, “Hannibal, don’t please!” He begged, turning into the older man, both hands on the duvet almost but not quite touching Hannibal’s thigh. “It wasn’t him it was me! I made him, I was so hurt and all the emptiness and cold came back and it was like there was something under my skin just trying to crawl out and my head was buzzing and he was trying to comfort me and I’d stripped off because all I could hear in my head was you saying how good I’d looked and I couldn’t stand that reminder of what I couldn’t have and so...” He ran out of words as Hannibal just stared, his eyes livid, but his face slack with shock.
“So, what?” The bite in Hannibal’s tone made Face cringe, “You made love with him?”
“No! God, no!” One of Face’s hands just fluttered out to touch Hannibal but he pulled it back in time, “I just... got myself off... while he held me,” his cheeks were flushed red in humiliation. “Jesus, Hannibal! I know I shouldn’t have, I know that! I just... I’m such a fucking head case sometimes. I told you – you don't know me at all!”
Yet again the silence was suffocating. Hannibal took a long deep breath and held it in, letting it out slowly as he turned away from Face. “Do you know what damage you could have done?” he asked tightly, eyes fixed on the wardrobe.
“To HM?” Face’s voice was shaking, anxious, “Yes.”
“To HM? To yourself? To the whole fucking team?” Hannibal shook his head.
There was a minute before Face replied and when he did, his voice was steadier, more in control, but also starkly resigned. “I do now, yes. And I have apologised to him, made it right. It’s okay. He’s okay. It’s over.”
There was no reply from Hannibal.
Face sat and stared at the wardrobes listening to Hannibal’s breathing next to him. He closed his eyes and dropped his head, he’d been right, Hannibal didn’t know him, had no idea of the depths he was capable of sinking to. In fact, this was probably the first time Face himself had faced up to those cold, hard truths. But that’s what he’d promised himself he would do from now, on, and that’s exactly what he would continue with, no matter how much it hurt him.
“Boss,” he had to clear his throat and start again. “Boss, listen to me. I know I have done so much that’s wrong in my time with you, and that’s what this is about, me trying to put things right.” Still no response from Hannibal. “I’m not running away anymore, not from you or from my mother or Murdock, or even myself. I’m facing up to all my shit.”
Silence, so he took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet, looking down at Hannibal’s bent head. “But I am putting some space in between us if you think that’s right; I could move out for a while, contact my – mother – see how that goes and just be an adult on my own for a bit?” Nothing. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Just means, well, I know you will need some time to process all this shit. Okay? I’ll always have my phone, I’ll always answer my calls and if you ever want to see me, then I’d love to see you. You understand?”
Still nothing. Face reached out, one hand stretching towards his lover’s head but he pulled it back and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, shoved the other one away too, took away temptation and stopped the shaking all at the same time.
He swallowed hard, “Right then...” forced his voice to be brisk, “Well, I suppose I’d better go.”
Hannibal was like a statue and Face forced himself to walk past, walk across that endless grey carpet and pause at the door, one hand in the room, one out.
“I am sorry boss, so sorry. I told you, I’m not the man you thought I was, I’m not the man I thought I was, and if that means that you’d rather not continue with this, well, that’s fine. That’s your right. Okay?”
Nothing.
Face blinked his vision clear and ran a shaky hand over his mouth. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “Look after yourself, John. I love you.”
And he walked out.
Hannibal sat in silence, his mind whirring through everything he had heard, everything he was feeling. It was a mess, a huge damn mess and he just didn’t know what to do. It was like he was in some kind of time warp, Face’s words dropping into his consciousness minutes after they had been spoken, far too fast to make any sense out of them.
But then he heard the back door shut, and a car door open.
He was out of the door and vaulting down the stairs three at a time before he’d even had time to consider what that meant.
Next
He saw Face’s shoulders slump a little. “So do I.”
Hannibal knew he needed more. “I should have told you about her straight away, I shouldn’t have pressurised you so much, I most certainly should never have arranged that fucking meeting in La Maison... Everything I did was wrong. I am so sorry.”
There was a pause and Hannibal held his breath. He could see the rigid set to Face’s back and he knew the way that the kid responded to those words would be the making or breaking of their relationship.
“I know. Forget it. It’s fine.”
He was stunned. “Fine?” he hadn’t expected that. “Face - it’s not fine! I...” And then it struck him that perhaps there was more to this, much, much more and his blood ran cold. “What is it, kid? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing’s wrong,” Face turned from the window and gave him a weary smile. “I know you were trying to look out for me and so it’s okay. Don’t worry about it.”
Slowly, Hannibal pushed away from the dresser and to his feet, his heart was thumping hard against his ribs and he could feel the cold sweat on his palms. “How can I not worry about it? I’m worrying even more now. This is so far from fine it’s not even possible!” He took another step in. “Why are you being like this? Tell me what’s wrong.”
Face shook his head, his eyes so sad that Hannibal felt his own tear up in response. “Hannibal, I should have trusted you. I should have talked to you, I should have told you more about how I was feeling.” He shook his head slowly, “How were you supposed to do the best thing for me when you had no idea what was going on in my head?”
Hannibal was confused, so confused and he hated it, he always liked to be three steps ahead in any situation, “Face – this isn’t your fault.”
“Maybe. But it isn’t yours either. You were just doing what you have always done and I have always let you. I shouldn’t have done that. I should have stopped you right from the start instead of just running away all the time. I’ve done a lot of that in my life, running away, and it all stops now. I’m a Ranger, time I started acting like one.”
Hannibal frowned, “What have you ever run away from?” In country, Face was one of the bravest men he had ever known.
His question was met with a wry smile. “Anything I don’t like about myself, and there’s plenty of that.” Hannibal just stared at him as he squared his shoulders. “It’s time to stop; it’s time to face some hard, unpleasant facts.”
“Like what?” Hannibal didn’t like the direction this conversation was headed.
“Like, well the way I went off the deep end when Charisa left.” Face held Hannibal’s eyes, his hands still in his pockets as he stood in front of the window. “We never talked about that, boss, did we? And then it happened again, this week, and maybe that was just because we hadn’t ever talked about it in the first place.”
But Hannibal’s mind went back to the look on the lieutenant’s face back in La Maison and he knew exactly why Face had dropped off the deep end again. “I shouldn’t have forced you into that meeting.”
Face considered this. “No. But I shouldn’t have run off when you wanted to explain to me why you did.”
“You were hurt.”
“I was. I still am,” Hannibal could see the determination in Face’s expression, “and I’m not going to run away from that feeling anymore.”
Hannibal sank to the bed, knowing, despite everything Face had said, that the troubles of the last few days were all his doing. “That meeting I set up with your mother,” he explained, “I don't even have a good reason, you know. I just thought I knew better than you did what you needed.”
Face smiled an empty smile, dropping on to the mattress next to Hannibal, a whole metre of empty space between them. “Maybe you’re right. I’ve never been such a great judge of what’s good for me.”
They sat in silence, each staring at the wardrobe doors in front of them, each thinking over the circumstances that had brought them to this point.
“Jesus, Face,” Hannibal breathed eventually, “how have we managed to get ourselves into such a huge fucking hole? And what the hell do we do about it now?”
The reply was so quiet he almost missed it, “Well, that depends on what we want.”
“I want you.” Hannibal turned to look at the side of Face’s bent head. “I’ve always wanted you and nothing will ever change that. I love you with everything that I am.” Silence met his words and for a torturous two minutes he just watched Face as Face stared at the carpet between his feet. Eventually he turned away, blowing out a shaky breath as he turned his eyes back to the wardrobes. “But, you don’t feel like that about me, obviously,” he whispered with his breath.
Face’s head snapped up, “Oh, I do! I absolutely do!” Hannibal met his eyes and could see that Face meant his words, “I just...” Face shook his head, “I feel bad Hannibal, the me you think you love doesn’t exist, I’m a completely different person.”
Hannibal frowned at him. “How’s that? I’ve spent twenty years with you Face. How can I not know you?”
The reply was instant, “Because I don’t even know myself.”
“Kid, I’m confused,” Hannibal’s frown deepened with his words.
Face steeled himself and turned back to the wardrobes. This would be much easier without having to look at Hannibal’s face as he heard the truth. His voice was low and shaky as he spoke, “I’ve started having dreams about when I was a kid,” he told Hannibal. “About when I still lived with her, and... well, things are different now.”
“Different how?” Hannibal tried to see Face’s expression, “I’m still lost here...”
Face’s voice was almost a whisper, “It seems we lived in a trailer and she was an alcoholic who didn’t really want me around. I’m an accidental bastard, Hannibal, not the person you thought I was.”
Hannibal took a moment to process this information, to decide how he should deal with it before he replied. “Face, the person I thought you were is you, and all that other stuff? That’s nothing to do with who you are, that’s how you lived. It’s different, totally different.”
Face shook his head, staring at the floor again. “But... How can you say that? How can you think it doesn’t matter?”
“Because it doesn’t!” This time the reply was instant. “Hell, Face, is this why you have been so distant with me? Because you were worried what I would think?” Face’s silence told him everything he needed to know and Hannibal bit back a sigh, he needed to chose his words very carefully to make Face understand him here. “I knew within four weeks of meeting you that you were an orphan,” he told him quietly. “I knew you’d faked that letter from your ‘parents’ to get into the Army and contacted a friend of mine back home to do some digging on you to get to the truth. He was good and found some things out, so I knew you’d been abandoned.” Hannibal could see the tips of Face’s ears and his cheeks had flushed red but he continued; Face was right, they’d stepped around these issues far too often in the past.
“Over the next year or so I put together as much information as I could on, but then you told me everything anyway. As our relationship grew, you trusted me enough to let me in and that meant so much to me.”
Face didn’t move and his voice was tight. “You never told me that.”
“No,” Hannibal exhaled. “It was never the right time, your trust was so fragile at first that I didn’t dare. And then it all seemed like so much water under the bridge, so no. I never got around to it.”
“But now?”
Hannibal was under no illusion at all about ‘now’. “Well, it’s now or never really isn’t it kid? I get the feeling that any more secrets might just blow this whole gig completely out of the water.”
Again, Face was silent.
“But anyway, the point I am trying to make is that I have always known your past could have been anything, absolutely anything at all, and that has never been an issue for me. I wasn’t in love with your past; I was in love with you.”
“And now?” the fear in Face’s voice was clear.
“Nothing’s changed,” Hannibal reassured him. “I love you, not how you used to live.”
Silence descended again and Face dropped his head into his hands, fingers tightening in his hair and Hannibal knew he was grappling with something; he waited.
Eventually Face looked up, his expression tight. “I’ve misjudged you.”
Hannibal’s mouth twisted into a flat smile, “I think we’ve misjudged each other.”
Face held his eyes and Hannibal could see his expression pale again and the way his mouth tightened; he braced himself, he knew the next words out of Face’s lips would not be ones he wanted to hear. “I’ve not always been faithful to you, John,” and he was right.
He dropped his eyes to the carpet, feeling Face’s stare on the back of his head, “I know,” he admitted, his voice almost a whisper.
It was as if the entire room froze at his words and he flicked his eyes up to take in Face’s stunned expression, those bright blue eyes fixed on Hannibal with the naked fear shining through. He shook his head and looked back at the dull grey carpet. “I’m not stupid, kid,” his voice sounded tired even to his own ears. “Nights you didn’t come back until late, stupid excuses, times when you were supposed to be staying over with Murdock.” He paused, swallowing hard. “I know there have been others, men and women. But I found some condoms in your stuff once and hoped you cared enough about us to keep me safe.”
In the silence following his words it was almost as if he could hear the house breathing.
“Jesus, boss,” Face’s voice was rough, broken. “I’m so sorry.” Another long pause, “But - you never said anything...”
Hannibal laughed, a dry, sad, laugh. “I’m an old man compared to you. The fact that you ever wanted me at all always blew my mind; it seemed only natural to me that you would need others to supplement what I could give you. And you always came back,” he shrugged. “How could I not be happy when you always came back?”
Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Face turn to him, “They were never ‘supplements’, Hannibal!” he retorted. “Sometimes I just needed sex. Cold, empty, sex. I couldn’t use you for that so I went elsewhere, seemed to make sense at the time,” he frowned, wondering why it didn’t now. “Plus it added to my reputation, kept the heat off us...” he let his words drift away, knowing they were empty, meaningless in the face of what he had done. At the sight of Hannibal’s bent head, so dejected, defeated even, he tried once more, anything to get the boss to understand his logic, however warped it may be. “And of course I always came back,” he whispered, “After a night of empty, meaningless sex, coming back to you... Christ boss, it always made me realise how much I loved you.”
Another laugh, bitter this time, “But it didn’t stop you doing it again?”
“No. It didn’t.”
Silence fell again as both men stared at the floor trying to absorb what they had learnt about each other in the last ten minutes, what they had learnt about themselves.
“I don’t know what to say, John,” Face’s throat was so tight it hurt to speak, “I had no idea you knew. I never would have continued to hurt you like that. And at the time...” he shook his head, wishing he could turn the clock back. “I suppose it seemed like a good idea... I am so sorry.”
Hannibal turned to look at him, “See? You think I don't know you at all, but I do. I knew all that about you and I still loved you. Still love you now.”
Face returned his look, “I’m a fucking idiot.”
They watched each other carefully and Hannibal’s eyes narrowed as he considered. “But, well, I thought you hadn’t done it so much recently - since prison.” He shrugged, “I haven’t noticed it, anyway.”
Face shook his head emphatically, “No. I didn’t feel the need. I’d missed you so damn much while we were locked up, knew that we might never get the chance to be together again. Gave me the time to realise what I’d been risking. And all the coldness, the desperation I used to feel inside, when I would want release no matter what, I hadn’t felt that since prison either.”
For a second, Hannibal nodded, but then his eyes darkened as Face’s words hit him. “Hadn’t? Until when?”
Face forced himself to hold Hannibal’s stare and took a deep breath, “After La Maison...” he whispered, his voice shaking.
That made no sense to Hannibal and he frowned, thoughtful, “But... How? I thought you were with Murdock?” Face just looked and Hannibal felt the icy cold blast of horrific realisation wash through him, “Murdock? Oh, Jesus Christ...”
Face just crumbled, “Hannibal, don’t please!” He begged, turning into the older man, both hands on the duvet almost but not quite touching Hannibal’s thigh. “It wasn’t him it was me! I made him, I was so hurt and all the emptiness and cold came back and it was like there was something under my skin just trying to crawl out and my head was buzzing and he was trying to comfort me and I’d stripped off because all I could hear in my head was you saying how good I’d looked and I couldn’t stand that reminder of what I couldn’t have and so...” He ran out of words as Hannibal just stared, his eyes livid, but his face slack with shock.
“So, what?” The bite in Hannibal’s tone made Face cringe, “You made love with him?”
“No! God, no!” One of Face’s hands just fluttered out to touch Hannibal but he pulled it back in time, “I just... got myself off... while he held me,” his cheeks were flushed red in humiliation. “Jesus, Hannibal! I know I shouldn’t have, I know that! I just... I’m such a fucking head case sometimes. I told you – you don't know me at all!”
Yet again the silence was suffocating. Hannibal took a long deep breath and held it in, letting it out slowly as he turned away from Face. “Do you know what damage you could have done?” he asked tightly, eyes fixed on the wardrobe.
“To HM?” Face’s voice was shaking, anxious, “Yes.”
“To HM? To yourself? To the whole fucking team?” Hannibal shook his head.
There was a minute before Face replied and when he did, his voice was steadier, more in control, but also starkly resigned. “I do now, yes. And I have apologised to him, made it right. It’s okay. He’s okay. It’s over.”
There was no reply from Hannibal.
Face sat and stared at the wardrobes listening to Hannibal’s breathing next to him. He closed his eyes and dropped his head, he’d been right, Hannibal didn’t know him, had no idea of the depths he was capable of sinking to. In fact, this was probably the first time Face himself had faced up to those cold, hard truths. But that’s what he’d promised himself he would do from now, on, and that’s exactly what he would continue with, no matter how much it hurt him.
“Boss,” he had to clear his throat and start again. “Boss, listen to me. I know I have done so much that’s wrong in my time with you, and that’s what this is about, me trying to put things right.” Still no response from Hannibal. “I’m not running away anymore, not from you or from my mother or Murdock, or even myself. I’m facing up to all my shit.”
Silence, so he took a deep breath and pushed himself to his feet, looking down at Hannibal’s bent head. “But I am putting some space in between us if you think that’s right; I could move out for a while, contact my – mother – see how that goes and just be an adult on my own for a bit?” Nothing. “Doesn’t mean I don’t love you. Just means, well, I know you will need some time to process all this shit. Okay? I’ll always have my phone, I’ll always answer my calls and if you ever want to see me, then I’d love to see you. You understand?”
Still nothing. Face reached out, one hand stretching towards his lover’s head but he pulled it back and shoved it into the pocket of his jeans, shoved the other one away too, took away temptation and stopped the shaking all at the same time.
He swallowed hard, “Right then...” forced his voice to be brisk, “Well, I suppose I’d better go.”
Hannibal was like a statue and Face forced himself to walk past, walk across that endless grey carpet and pause at the door, one hand in the room, one out.
“I am sorry boss, so sorry. I told you, I’m not the man you thought I was, I’m not the man I thought I was, and if that means that you’d rather not continue with this, well, that’s fine. That’s your right. Okay?”
Nothing.
Face blinked his vision clear and ran a shaky hand over his mouth. “Okay,” he said, more to himself than anyone else. “Look after yourself, John. I love you.”
And he walked out.
Hannibal sat in silence, his mind whirring through everything he had heard, everything he was feeling. It was a mess, a huge damn mess and he just didn’t know what to do. It was like he was in some kind of time warp, Face’s words dropping into his consciousness minutes after they had been spoken, far too fast to make any sense out of them.
But then he heard the back door shut, and a car door open.
He was out of the door and vaulting down the stairs three at a time before he’d even had time to consider what that meant.
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Date: 2011-10-11 01:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-12 09:05 pm (UTC)