A Mother's Love - Part Fourteen
Oct. 12th, 2011 10:22 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_angelsHannibal stumbled at the foot of the stairs and painfully jarred his shoulder on the wall but it didn’t slow him down at all. He leaped out of the front door and charged across the grass just in time to see a set of tail lights disappear around the corner. “Shit!” he muttered under his breath and turned, seeing the Chevy still parked in the driveway, a long figure leaning up against it, arms folded. He paused and considered his words carefully before he spoke. “Captain,” Murdock nodded back at him in greeting, “was that Face?” he gestured with his head the way the car had gone.
“Yeah. It’s a hire car.” Murdock’s tone was flat, careful.
They looked at each other as Hannibal pulled his phone from his pocket. “You and I have something to discuss,” Hannibal told him, tightly controlled emotions sounding through his voice as he pressed the speed dial.
It was, however, a gruff voice from the left that answered his comment to Murdock, “Yeah?” Hannibal looked over at BA standing in the doorway, a frown creasing his brow. “Well, I think I’ll be there for tha’ little conversation as well then, Hannibal, ‘cause don’ you forget, crazy man was jus’ tryin’ to sort out the mess you lef’ behind!”
Hannibal opened his mouth to retort, but then a wary, “Boss?” sounded in his ear and he spun away from them, hearing BA’s, “C’mon, man, I’ll make you a milk shake,” as he turned all his concentration onto his phone.
“Face? Come back. Please come back, I’m sorry.”
There was a silence on the other end of the line, only the drone of the hire car’s engine could be heard, Hannibal closed his eyes.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Hannibal hated to hear that uncertainty.
“Positive. Now please just come back.”
There was another pregnant pause before, “Two minutes,” and the line went dead.
_____________________________
The second that Face pulled the car up in front of the house, Hannibal got in. The two men looked at each other over the gear stick; Face always preferred to drive a manual, before Hannibal reached over and grabbed his lieutenant’s hand, hard as if he were trying to save himself from being swept away in a swollen river.
“I shouldn’t have let you just walk out like that,” he said quietly, “we hadn’t finished all there was to say.”
Whatever hope had been shining in Face’s eyes as Hannibal got into the car with him and took his hand drained away in an instant at Hannibal’s words, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear whatever was left.
Silence surrounded them and Hannibal had time to wonder if he had been too hasty in bringing Face back, if he should have waited until he’d thought this through, decided exactly what he wanted to say. But then he remembered Face’s words back in the bedroom, his resignation over everything, he had felt Face’s eyes burning into the back of his head and abruptly realised that those wary blue eyes were watching him still.
Hannibal offered him a thin smile and just started speaking, letting the words in his head come out. “It was a shock, what you told me about Murdock but...” he shook his head ruefully, “As BA has so kindly just reminded me, the whole situation was my doing, I got you into that state, I pushed you off onto him, I should have realised what my actions would do, where they would send you.” A rush of remorse hit him as he saw Face flush and turn to look out of the windshield. “And I should have realised the lengths he would go to to try and repair my damage.”
The ticking of the engine as it cooled was the only sound they could hear.
“I just,” Hannibal looked at their joined hands, watched as his thumb smoothed over the tanned skin on the back of Face’s hand, those hands that had covered every inch of his own skin over the years, hands he’d seen fight and shoot and climb, soothe and kill, help and hold. Hands that belonged to him if he let them, the greatest gift he’d ever been given, those hands, this man. “I was just jealous,” he admitted quietly, “it was bad enough when I knew you were with strangers, but Murdock, when I know how close you are, how much he loves you...” He took a breath and Face could feel the increased pressure on his hand, “Is he who you want?”
“No,” Face’s answer was instantaneous and he turned back to look at Hannibal his eyes beseeching. “Not at all, and he doesn’t want me either.” They held each other’s eyes, “Yes, I love him, but like I love BA, not like I love you. He’s my brother, I shouldn’t have done that to him; I betrayed you both.”
Hannibal could see tears starting to well up in Face’s eyes and he wasn’t going to have that, he’d hurt him too much these last few weeks as it was, all that was stopping, now. “Hey, hey, hey...” he whispered, smiling at his boy, his man. “Don’t get upset, Face. I just needed to know for sure; I would never hold you back if Murdock was what you wanted.” Face shook his head, his mouth a thin hard line, holding all that pain inside, but a single tear escaped anyway, only to be brushed away by his free hand before it had chance to go far.
Watching him for a moment, Hannibal noticed him struggling to hold it all together and turned away, staring back out of the window at the kids playing ball at the end of the road. He was so confused. Yes, he loved Face, passionately and for all time, but this business with Murdock, it had absolutely rocked him. And yes, he believed what Face was saying to him, yes, he knew that Face was in love with him, but there was still this irrational, jealous side of him that was bubbling and simmering in fury. He could feel it just below the surface, desperate to get out and strike at something, like a King Cobra – desperate to strike at Face. He felt his jaw clench, no, that wasn’t happening, not at all, he had to protect Face at all costs, even if it meant protecting him from his colonel.
He turned back and saw Face watching him, trepidation shining through his eyes; Hannibal took a deep breath. “I think you are right, kid. I think we need some space.” Face didn’t answer, but Hannibal felt the pain deep in his chest at the look of tragic resignation in his LT’s expression. “Just until we get some things worked out.”
Face blinked the moisture from his eyes and tried to force out a smile. “Sure, boss. Makes sense.” He pulled his hand out of Hannibal’s and took hold of the steering wheel, staring blankly out at the street. “I just need, urm, her number and then I can make some arrangements and I am already booked into a hotel so that’s all sorted, and we haven’t got any jobs lined up yet so that’s okay and-”
“Face,” Hannibal interrupted him, a hand on his knee and Face turned, obviously holding on to himself by the thinnest of threads. “I’m not so sure seeing your mother just yet is such a good idea.” He hadn’t missed the way that Face had stumbled over what to call her, if he couldn’t even say the word ‘mother’ comfortably, how the hell was he suppose to deal with meeting her?
Face’s eyes widened just a touch at those words and he forced out a rueful half smile, “Shit, make your mind up boss! You’ve spent forever trying to get me to do it!”
Letting his own lips turn up just a little in reply, Hannibal squeezed his knee. “Well that was before I started thinking straight, and you were right. If you don’t feel like this is the right thing, then you shouldn’t do it.”
Clearing his throat, Face reached out and turned the engine over, making sure his eyes stayed fixed on the street ahead. “No, it’s fine, boss. I’m fine; it’s no big deal really. Will be nice to catch up with her.”
Hannibal’s heart sank, “Face...”
“And I’m not being rude, boss, but I have a few errands to run, so...” he touched the accelerator ever so gently with his toe.
Suddenly, everything felt wrong. This conversation was wrong, Face leaving was wrong, this ‘space’ thing was wrong, everything was wrong. Swallowing hard, Hannibal kept his hand on Face’s knee, “You’ll be back later though? Come for some dinner, maybe a game on TV?”
There was a pause before Face shifted, just a touch, but just enough to dislodge that hand from his jeans. “Nah, I’m pretty beat. Think I’ll just turn in.”
Hannibal felt sick, “Breakfast then? Come over first thing?”
It was almost as if Face was just trying to think of an excuse to say no, and when it didn’t come he seemed to sag in his seat. “Sure,” he answered, voice flat, “what time?”
“Nine?” Hannibal said quickly, wanting to say six, midnight, now.
“Sure,” Face repeated, defeat in his voice and his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Text me her number then?” Hannibal nodded and Face touched the gas again. With a sigh, Hannibal took the hint, pausing just one moment longer, wanting a kiss or a touch or at least a look, anything, but when Face remained focused, he just slid out of his seat and closed the door behind him. He watched as a hand was raised in farewell from inside the car and then it instantly pulled away from the kerb.
Hannibal stood staring after it a long time after the noise of the engine had faded into silence.
____________________________________
Lying back in bed, Hannibal stared at his phone and wondered about the best way to reply to the text that had dropped into his inbox. He read it through again, ‘Hey boss. Don’t forget to text me that number’ and wondered for the hundredth time why Face was suddenly so keen to meet up with Adele. He shuffled around in the too large bed and tried to relax so that he could think around the pounding of his head; emotions had been running high between all of them over these last few days, and today had been no exception. The two heart to hearts he’d had with Face had really taken it out of him, and then to return to the house after Face had driven off to find Murdock and BA, milkshake in front each of them, waiting for him, had been the last thing he’d needed.
Hannibal had walked in and stopped in the doorway as he saw them look up at him, two guarded, anxious expressions turning to him the second he rounded the corner. For a moment, he almost turned and walked straight back out again, but he knew that he had responsibilities here, things needed moving forward and that would never happen if he didn’t do his job as commander of this unit properly, so he walked over, pulled out a chair and sat down.
He took a long breath, wondering the best way to begin when Murdock beat him to it. “I’m sorry, boss, if you think I was outta order with what happened with Face,” his anxiety was clear in the speed of his words, but there was a vein of steel running through them as well. “But I wasn’t doin’ it for me, I was doin’ it for him.”
Hannibal let his face fall into his hands as his elbows rested on the table and tiredly scrubbed at his eyes. He was so, so sick of all of this, all this tension and stress and worry between them. Did he doubt Face’s love for him? No, not at all. Had he ever seriously considered that Murdock was trying to take what was his? No, never. So what was the problem here then? And then it hit him right between the eyes. The only problem was his jealousy, not jealousy of the fact that there might be another man in Face’s life, no not at all, just jealousy that there was another person there, someone else who Face loved and relied on and liked to be with, even if it was in a completely different way from the way he felt about Hannibal. And what were the implications of that? That Face wasn’t supposed to have anyone in his life? No one but Hannibal? Ever? At all? He knew that was utterly and completely crazy. This was utterly and completely crazy.
He looked up to find them watching him, BA with a scowl that was darkening further with every minute and Murdock with a complexion so pale it looked as if he would pass out at any second. Hannibal met those worried eyes head on. “I know, Captain,” he said quietly, “and all I can say is thank you. I know what I did to him, I can picture the state he was in, and I know what he needs sometimes just to...” he struggled for the right word, “...just to get by.” Murdock stared back at him. “So thanks. It might not have been what anyone wanted or had planned, but it was the right thing at the time and it got him through to the other side.” He and Murdock stared at each other for another minute before Hannibal extended his hand and Murdock instantly took it, shaking firmly.
BA seemed stunned, he watched Hannibal get to his feet and squeeze Murdock’s shoulder as he headed towards the stairs, turning at the last second to catch the big guy’s eye. He paused and BA looked at him for another moment before nodding, just the once, just letting Hannibal know it was okay, he’d done the right thing. Hannibal nodded back and walked out, needing to have some time on his own to plough through everything he was feeling.
_____________________________
So, of course with all the emotional fall out, Hannibal conveniently forgot that he had promised to text Adele’s number to Face. Or rather he ignored the fact and hoped that Face had forgotten. And now it was 11.35pm and Hannibal was laid in bed staring at the message on the screen and just knowing that Face wasn’t up to seeing his mother right now, things had been too hard for him, the poor kid had had too much to struggle through on his own, he shouldn’t be doing this just now. What they should do is get some proper contact details from Adele, and pack her back off to New York, and then, when Face felt properly ready, he could arrange a meeting on his terms.
For perhaps a second, Hannibal considered taking matters into his own hands and sending Adele home by himself, but then he remembered the hell of this last week and mentally kicked himself, hadn’t he learnt his damn lesson yet?
So, finally realising that cold hard fact of life, Hannibal was left with only one option – doing exactly what Face wanted and passing the number onto him. Unless... Another alternative sprang to mind and Hannibal took a deep breath before typing his text.
‘Hey, kid. How about I contact her, make the arrangements for you? Might be easier on you both.’
He pressed send before he could start changing and retyping and deleting and rewriting and sat back to await the reply. He didn’t have to wait long, within a minute the text, ‘Whatever you say’ appeared in his inbox and he sat in silence considering it, wondering if that was Face being pissy or resigned or scamming him, intent on getting the number from another source, or whatever the hell it was. His finger hovered over the speed dial button, torn between wanting to talk to the kid and being scared that Face would think he was just bugging the life out of him. He sighed and was about to put the phone down on the bedside table when it buzzed again and the message, ‘I love you, John,’ brought a lump to his throat and tears to his eyes. It wasn’t like Face had never said it before because he had, lots of times; they often whispered it to each other in the safe black, dark of the night, wrapped in each other’s arms, sweating and sated and secure, it was more that Face had never committed it to reality like this before, made it tangible, something Hannibal could keep and read when Face wasn’t there. Hannibal didn’t pause. I love you too, kid, so much flew from his fingers and into the ether in a matter of moments. If Face had given him something real to hold on to, then Hannibal was going to return that honour straight away.
No more texts came through and Hannibal eventually drifted off, his phone with its precious message still displayed, clutched tightly in his hand.
________________________
He was up early the next morning, determined he wouldn’t sleep in and desperate to make breakfast work perfectly for them both, but it got off to a less than auspicious start.
Face arrived dead on time, and Hannibal greeted him at the door to the kitchen in his eagerness to try and make things right. He stopped as he watched the kid let himself in and his chest tightened uncomfortably as he noticed how worn Face looked, how frayed around the edges. He wanted to go to him and kiss him, take him upstairs and hold him close on the bed, lie him down and kiss away all the pain and doubt, but he had no idea if any of those things would be welcome any more so instead he leaned awkwardly over and brushed his lips against the stubble on Face’s cheek, pulling away just as Face reached for him and then freezing, at a complete loss as to what to do next.
As always it was Murdock that saved the day, rushing in to the kitchen and grabbing Face around the hips, swinging him up and off the floor, laughing as he sang, “Can we have kippers for breakfast? Mummy dear, mummy dear,” in an outrageous English accent while Face tried to swat him away and just like that all the awkwardness vanished.
“Get off me you loon,” Face grinned, eventually managing to shove Murdock away. “You know I hate bloody raw fish.”
“You are thinking of sushi, dear boy,” Murdock told him, persevering with the English accent as he drifted over to all the bacon Hannibal had cooked and heaped in a dish on the side, “Kippers are smoked herring,” Hannibal couldn’t hold back the smile as Murdock slid into seamless Scottish, “Only the best, unbruised herring are used. Och, aye, we split ‘em and salt ‘em and then smoke ‘em just the way our grandfather’s did when Rob Roy was a wee one, no artificial smoking for us laddie!”
Hannibal looked up and found Face watching him, his own smile just threatening to tip up the corners of his mouth and in that second things suddenly seemed easier, more straight forward and infinitely better. Face slid around the table to slip onto the bench seat right next to Hannibal, while Hannibal’s arm lifted to let him come close, wrapping it around the younger man’s shoulders as Murdock started pushing plates of bacon and toast across the table at them singing Loch Lomond at the top of his voice until BA yelled down from upstairs for him to be quiet.
The easier mood lasted all the way through breakfast, all the way through BA threatening many different and colourful ways to stop Murdock from singing a wide variety of Scottish folk songs that no one even realised he had known before, and right up until the point where Face disentangled himself from Hannibal’s arm and got to his feet, self consciously tugging his shirt down and announcing it was time he got going. The silence was so thick it would have needed a chain saw to get through it and BA and Murdock automatically took their cue, patting Face on the shoulder and hugging him tightly respectively before they both decided they were going to head out and pick up some food from Wal-Mart.
Hannibal looked up from where he was now slumped in his seat. “You don’t have to go,” he said tiredly.
Face smiled but it was strained. “Space, boss. Remember? How are we supposed to have a little space when we are joined at the hip all the time?” Looking at the handle of his empty coffee mug, Hannibal tried to consider this, but could only find himself ruminating on why they felt they’d needed this ‘space’ in the first place.
Moving to the door, Face picked up his car keys looking on edge and awkward again. He caught Hannibal’s eye as he glanced up and immediately turned away, staring at his hand on the door handle as he asked the question that Hannibal had been dreading since he walked in just over two hours ago.
“So... You called her then?”
Hannibal steeled himself. “No, not yet. It was too late last night and too early this morning. I’ll do it as soon as you leave.”
He instantly regretted his words, realising that he had made it sound like he actually wanted Face to go but didn’t get the chance to say anything more as his
lieutenant offered up a weak smile and pressed the door handle down. “Okay then, just arrange it for as soon as you can. The quicker this whole thing is over with, the better as far as I am concerned.” Hannibal wanted to say so much more, he wanted to tell Face not to leave but the words just wouldn’t come. With a brief, tight smile, Face was out of the door into the morning sun leaving Hannibal sat amongst the devastation of the breakfast pots and his love life.
Next
“Yeah. It’s a hire car.” Murdock’s tone was flat, careful.
They looked at each other as Hannibal pulled his phone from his pocket. “You and I have something to discuss,” Hannibal told him, tightly controlled emotions sounding through his voice as he pressed the speed dial.
It was, however, a gruff voice from the left that answered his comment to Murdock, “Yeah?” Hannibal looked over at BA standing in the doorway, a frown creasing his brow. “Well, I think I’ll be there for tha’ little conversation as well then, Hannibal, ‘cause don’ you forget, crazy man was jus’ tryin’ to sort out the mess you lef’ behind!”
Hannibal opened his mouth to retort, but then a wary, “Boss?” sounded in his ear and he spun away from them, hearing BA’s, “C’mon, man, I’ll make you a milk shake,” as he turned all his concentration onto his phone.
“Face? Come back. Please come back, I’m sorry.”
There was a silence on the other end of the line, only the drone of the hire car’s engine could be heard, Hannibal closed his eyes.
“You sure that’s a good idea?” Hannibal hated to hear that uncertainty.
“Positive. Now please just come back.”
There was another pregnant pause before, “Two minutes,” and the line went dead.
_____________________________
The second that Face pulled the car up in front of the house, Hannibal got in. The two men looked at each other over the gear stick; Face always preferred to drive a manual, before Hannibal reached over and grabbed his lieutenant’s hand, hard as if he were trying to save himself from being swept away in a swollen river.
“I shouldn’t have let you just walk out like that,” he said quietly, “we hadn’t finished all there was to say.”
Whatever hope had been shining in Face’s eyes as Hannibal got into the car with him and took his hand drained away in an instant at Hannibal’s words, and suddenly he wasn’t so sure he wanted to hear whatever was left.
Silence surrounded them and Hannibal had time to wonder if he had been too hasty in bringing Face back, if he should have waited until he’d thought this through, decided exactly what he wanted to say. But then he remembered Face’s words back in the bedroom, his resignation over everything, he had felt Face’s eyes burning into the back of his head and abruptly realised that those wary blue eyes were watching him still.
Hannibal offered him a thin smile and just started speaking, letting the words in his head come out. “It was a shock, what you told me about Murdock but...” he shook his head ruefully, “As BA has so kindly just reminded me, the whole situation was my doing, I got you into that state, I pushed you off onto him, I should have realised what my actions would do, where they would send you.” A rush of remorse hit him as he saw Face flush and turn to look out of the windshield. “And I should have realised the lengths he would go to to try and repair my damage.”
The ticking of the engine as it cooled was the only sound they could hear.
“I just,” Hannibal looked at their joined hands, watched as his thumb smoothed over the tanned skin on the back of Face’s hand, those hands that had covered every inch of his own skin over the years, hands he’d seen fight and shoot and climb, soothe and kill, help and hold. Hands that belonged to him if he let them, the greatest gift he’d ever been given, those hands, this man. “I was just jealous,” he admitted quietly, “it was bad enough when I knew you were with strangers, but Murdock, when I know how close you are, how much he loves you...” He took a breath and Face could feel the increased pressure on his hand, “Is he who you want?”
“No,” Face’s answer was instantaneous and he turned back to look at Hannibal his eyes beseeching. “Not at all, and he doesn’t want me either.” They held each other’s eyes, “Yes, I love him, but like I love BA, not like I love you. He’s my brother, I shouldn’t have done that to him; I betrayed you both.”
Hannibal could see tears starting to well up in Face’s eyes and he wasn’t going to have that, he’d hurt him too much these last few weeks as it was, all that was stopping, now. “Hey, hey, hey...” he whispered, smiling at his boy, his man. “Don’t get upset, Face. I just needed to know for sure; I would never hold you back if Murdock was what you wanted.” Face shook his head, his mouth a thin hard line, holding all that pain inside, but a single tear escaped anyway, only to be brushed away by his free hand before it had chance to go far.
Watching him for a moment, Hannibal noticed him struggling to hold it all together and turned away, staring back out of the window at the kids playing ball at the end of the road. He was so confused. Yes, he loved Face, passionately and for all time, but this business with Murdock, it had absolutely rocked him. And yes, he believed what Face was saying to him, yes, he knew that Face was in love with him, but there was still this irrational, jealous side of him that was bubbling and simmering in fury. He could feel it just below the surface, desperate to get out and strike at something, like a King Cobra – desperate to strike at Face. He felt his jaw clench, no, that wasn’t happening, not at all, he had to protect Face at all costs, even if it meant protecting him from his colonel.
He turned back and saw Face watching him, trepidation shining through his eyes; Hannibal took a deep breath. “I think you are right, kid. I think we need some space.” Face didn’t answer, but Hannibal felt the pain deep in his chest at the look of tragic resignation in his LT’s expression. “Just until we get some things worked out.”
Face blinked the moisture from his eyes and tried to force out a smile. “Sure, boss. Makes sense.” He pulled his hand out of Hannibal’s and took hold of the steering wheel, staring blankly out at the street. “I just need, urm, her number and then I can make some arrangements and I am already booked into a hotel so that’s all sorted, and we haven’t got any jobs lined up yet so that’s okay and-”
“Face,” Hannibal interrupted him, a hand on his knee and Face turned, obviously holding on to himself by the thinnest of threads. “I’m not so sure seeing your mother just yet is such a good idea.” He hadn’t missed the way that Face had stumbled over what to call her, if he couldn’t even say the word ‘mother’ comfortably, how the hell was he suppose to deal with meeting her?
Face’s eyes widened just a touch at those words and he forced out a rueful half smile, “Shit, make your mind up boss! You’ve spent forever trying to get me to do it!”
Letting his own lips turn up just a little in reply, Hannibal squeezed his knee. “Well that was before I started thinking straight, and you were right. If you don’t feel like this is the right thing, then you shouldn’t do it.”
Clearing his throat, Face reached out and turned the engine over, making sure his eyes stayed fixed on the street ahead. “No, it’s fine, boss. I’m fine; it’s no big deal really. Will be nice to catch up with her.”
Hannibal’s heart sank, “Face...”
“And I’m not being rude, boss, but I have a few errands to run, so...” he touched the accelerator ever so gently with his toe.
Suddenly, everything felt wrong. This conversation was wrong, Face leaving was wrong, this ‘space’ thing was wrong, everything was wrong. Swallowing hard, Hannibal kept his hand on Face’s knee, “You’ll be back later though? Come for some dinner, maybe a game on TV?”
There was a pause before Face shifted, just a touch, but just enough to dislodge that hand from his jeans. “Nah, I’m pretty beat. Think I’ll just turn in.”
Hannibal felt sick, “Breakfast then? Come over first thing?”
It was almost as if Face was just trying to think of an excuse to say no, and when it didn’t come he seemed to sag in his seat. “Sure,” he answered, voice flat, “what time?”
“Nine?” Hannibal said quickly, wanting to say six, midnight, now.
“Sure,” Face repeated, defeat in his voice and his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Text me her number then?” Hannibal nodded and Face touched the gas again. With a sigh, Hannibal took the hint, pausing just one moment longer, wanting a kiss or a touch or at least a look, anything, but when Face remained focused, he just slid out of his seat and closed the door behind him. He watched as a hand was raised in farewell from inside the car and then it instantly pulled away from the kerb.
Hannibal stood staring after it a long time after the noise of the engine had faded into silence.
____________________________________
Lying back in bed, Hannibal stared at his phone and wondered about the best way to reply to the text that had dropped into his inbox. He read it through again, ‘Hey boss. Don’t forget to text me that number’ and wondered for the hundredth time why Face was suddenly so keen to meet up with Adele. He shuffled around in the too large bed and tried to relax so that he could think around the pounding of his head; emotions had been running high between all of them over these last few days, and today had been no exception. The two heart to hearts he’d had with Face had really taken it out of him, and then to return to the house after Face had driven off to find Murdock and BA, milkshake in front each of them, waiting for him, had been the last thing he’d needed.
Hannibal had walked in and stopped in the doorway as he saw them look up at him, two guarded, anxious expressions turning to him the second he rounded the corner. For a moment, he almost turned and walked straight back out again, but he knew that he had responsibilities here, things needed moving forward and that would never happen if he didn’t do his job as commander of this unit properly, so he walked over, pulled out a chair and sat down.
He took a long breath, wondering the best way to begin when Murdock beat him to it. “I’m sorry, boss, if you think I was outta order with what happened with Face,” his anxiety was clear in the speed of his words, but there was a vein of steel running through them as well. “But I wasn’t doin’ it for me, I was doin’ it for him.”
Hannibal let his face fall into his hands as his elbows rested on the table and tiredly scrubbed at his eyes. He was so, so sick of all of this, all this tension and stress and worry between them. Did he doubt Face’s love for him? No, not at all. Had he ever seriously considered that Murdock was trying to take what was his? No, never. So what was the problem here then? And then it hit him right between the eyes. The only problem was his jealousy, not jealousy of the fact that there might be another man in Face’s life, no not at all, just jealousy that there was another person there, someone else who Face loved and relied on and liked to be with, even if it was in a completely different way from the way he felt about Hannibal. And what were the implications of that? That Face wasn’t supposed to have anyone in his life? No one but Hannibal? Ever? At all? He knew that was utterly and completely crazy. This was utterly and completely crazy.
He looked up to find them watching him, BA with a scowl that was darkening further with every minute and Murdock with a complexion so pale it looked as if he would pass out at any second. Hannibal met those worried eyes head on. “I know, Captain,” he said quietly, “and all I can say is thank you. I know what I did to him, I can picture the state he was in, and I know what he needs sometimes just to...” he struggled for the right word, “...just to get by.” Murdock stared back at him. “So thanks. It might not have been what anyone wanted or had planned, but it was the right thing at the time and it got him through to the other side.” He and Murdock stared at each other for another minute before Hannibal extended his hand and Murdock instantly took it, shaking firmly.
BA seemed stunned, he watched Hannibal get to his feet and squeeze Murdock’s shoulder as he headed towards the stairs, turning at the last second to catch the big guy’s eye. He paused and BA looked at him for another moment before nodding, just the once, just letting Hannibal know it was okay, he’d done the right thing. Hannibal nodded back and walked out, needing to have some time on his own to plough through everything he was feeling.
_____________________________
So, of course with all the emotional fall out, Hannibal conveniently forgot that he had promised to text Adele’s number to Face. Or rather he ignored the fact and hoped that Face had forgotten. And now it was 11.35pm and Hannibal was laid in bed staring at the message on the screen and just knowing that Face wasn’t up to seeing his mother right now, things had been too hard for him, the poor kid had had too much to struggle through on his own, he shouldn’t be doing this just now. What they should do is get some proper contact details from Adele, and pack her back off to New York, and then, when Face felt properly ready, he could arrange a meeting on his terms.
For perhaps a second, Hannibal considered taking matters into his own hands and sending Adele home by himself, but then he remembered the hell of this last week and mentally kicked himself, hadn’t he learnt his damn lesson yet?
So, finally realising that cold hard fact of life, Hannibal was left with only one option – doing exactly what Face wanted and passing the number onto him. Unless... Another alternative sprang to mind and Hannibal took a deep breath before typing his text.
‘Hey, kid. How about I contact her, make the arrangements for you? Might be easier on you both.’
He pressed send before he could start changing and retyping and deleting and rewriting and sat back to await the reply. He didn’t have to wait long, within a minute the text, ‘Whatever you say’ appeared in his inbox and he sat in silence considering it, wondering if that was Face being pissy or resigned or scamming him, intent on getting the number from another source, or whatever the hell it was. His finger hovered over the speed dial button, torn between wanting to talk to the kid and being scared that Face would think he was just bugging the life out of him. He sighed and was about to put the phone down on the bedside table when it buzzed again and the message, ‘I love you, John,’ brought a lump to his throat and tears to his eyes. It wasn’t like Face had never said it before because he had, lots of times; they often whispered it to each other in the safe black, dark of the night, wrapped in each other’s arms, sweating and sated and secure, it was more that Face had never committed it to reality like this before, made it tangible, something Hannibal could keep and read when Face wasn’t there. Hannibal didn’t pause. I love you too, kid, so much flew from his fingers and into the ether in a matter of moments. If Face had given him something real to hold on to, then Hannibal was going to return that honour straight away.
No more texts came through and Hannibal eventually drifted off, his phone with its precious message still displayed, clutched tightly in his hand.
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He was up early the next morning, determined he wouldn’t sleep in and desperate to make breakfast work perfectly for them both, but it got off to a less than auspicious start.
Face arrived dead on time, and Hannibal greeted him at the door to the kitchen in his eagerness to try and make things right. He stopped as he watched the kid let himself in and his chest tightened uncomfortably as he noticed how worn Face looked, how frayed around the edges. He wanted to go to him and kiss him, take him upstairs and hold him close on the bed, lie him down and kiss away all the pain and doubt, but he had no idea if any of those things would be welcome any more so instead he leaned awkwardly over and brushed his lips against the stubble on Face’s cheek, pulling away just as Face reached for him and then freezing, at a complete loss as to what to do next.
As always it was Murdock that saved the day, rushing in to the kitchen and grabbing Face around the hips, swinging him up and off the floor, laughing as he sang, “Can we have kippers for breakfast? Mummy dear, mummy dear,” in an outrageous English accent while Face tried to swat him away and just like that all the awkwardness vanished.
“Get off me you loon,” Face grinned, eventually managing to shove Murdock away. “You know I hate bloody raw fish.”
“You are thinking of sushi, dear boy,” Murdock told him, persevering with the English accent as he drifted over to all the bacon Hannibal had cooked and heaped in a dish on the side, “Kippers are smoked herring,” Hannibal couldn’t hold back the smile as Murdock slid into seamless Scottish, “Only the best, unbruised herring are used. Och, aye, we split ‘em and salt ‘em and then smoke ‘em just the way our grandfather’s did when Rob Roy was a wee one, no artificial smoking for us laddie!”
Hannibal looked up and found Face watching him, his own smile just threatening to tip up the corners of his mouth and in that second things suddenly seemed easier, more straight forward and infinitely better. Face slid around the table to slip onto the bench seat right next to Hannibal, while Hannibal’s arm lifted to let him come close, wrapping it around the younger man’s shoulders as Murdock started pushing plates of bacon and toast across the table at them singing Loch Lomond at the top of his voice until BA yelled down from upstairs for him to be quiet.
The easier mood lasted all the way through breakfast, all the way through BA threatening many different and colourful ways to stop Murdock from singing a wide variety of Scottish folk songs that no one even realised he had known before, and right up until the point where Face disentangled himself from Hannibal’s arm and got to his feet, self consciously tugging his shirt down and announcing it was time he got going. The silence was so thick it would have needed a chain saw to get through it and BA and Murdock automatically took their cue, patting Face on the shoulder and hugging him tightly respectively before they both decided they were going to head out and pick up some food from Wal-Mart.
Hannibal looked up from where he was now slumped in his seat. “You don’t have to go,” he said tiredly.
Face smiled but it was strained. “Space, boss. Remember? How are we supposed to have a little space when we are joined at the hip all the time?” Looking at the handle of his empty coffee mug, Hannibal tried to consider this, but could only find himself ruminating on why they felt they’d needed this ‘space’ in the first place.
Moving to the door, Face picked up his car keys looking on edge and awkward again. He caught Hannibal’s eye as he glanced up and immediately turned away, staring at his hand on the door handle as he asked the question that Hannibal had been dreading since he walked in just over two hours ago.
“So... You called her then?”
Hannibal steeled himself. “No, not yet. It was too late last night and too early this morning. I’ll do it as soon as you leave.”
He instantly regretted his words, realising that he had made it sound like he actually wanted Face to go but didn’t get the chance to say anything more as his
lieutenant offered up a weak smile and pressed the door handle down. “Okay then, just arrange it for as soon as you can. The quicker this whole thing is over with, the better as far as I am concerned.” Hannibal wanted to say so much more, he wanted to tell Face not to leave but the words just wouldn’t come. With a brief, tight smile, Face was out of the door into the morning sun leaving Hannibal sat amongst the devastation of the breakfast pots and his love life.
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