A Mother's Love - Part Seventeen
Oct. 16th, 2011 08:56 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
indigo_angelsFace was silent, swirling the amber liquid around in his glass as he considered Hannibal’s question, considered what answer, if any, he felt he could give.
“She told me some things,” he eventually said and Hannibal felt that jolt in his chest once more and suddenly realised how incredibly fed up of all of this he was. He knew Face was being evasive with him, knew the kid guarded his secrets very carefully indeed and knew that it had always been that way, but now, he didn’t want it any more. He didn’t want to go into Murdock’s room on a morning secretly dreading what he would see, he didn't want to have to creep into hotel rooms wondering if Face had walked out on him, he didn't want to have any ‘space’ between them anymore, he wanted to be pressed up so tight to Face for the rest of his life, so tight you couldn’t slide a credit card between them, that’s what he wanted.
But then he looked at Face’s reflection in the screen of the television and his heart sank again as he took in his lieutenant’s expression, he could almost see those damn walls stacking up, that bland conman expression slipping into place as Face fought to hide from Hannibal, struggled to keep private the very things that they should be sharing, the things that would only bring them closer together, not drive them apart as Face feared. So Hannibal did the only thing he could think of and started talking, taking the drink from Face’s fingers and holding his man securely around the chest, meshing them together physically, he went about trying to bind them together mentally.
“You are the most precious thing in the world to me,” he said softly, his chin on Face’s shoulder. “I fell in love with you when you were just a child, and I can only marvel at how much I love you more with each passing day.” Face was silent, but Hannibal could see he was listening, his long fingers still as he concentrated on Hannibal’s words. “You said the other day that I don’t know you, that I don't know the things you are capable of, but you are so wrong, sweetheart, so, so wrong. I know you inside out, I know you better than you know yourself, because while all you see are your difficulties, the things you find hard, the mistakes you might make, I see those and all the rest as well, the beautiful, shining qualities that made you stand out from the crowd in Kuwait, that brought my eye to you even as you walked across the tarmac on the landing strip.” He paused to turn and press a kiss into the warmth of Face’s neck, feeling the fluttering of an anxious pulse under his lips, before he continued with his words.
“You are strong, mentally and physically, and so determined, once you’ve made up your mind about something, nothing will get in your way. Your streak of humanity is a mile wide, kid, the amount of times I watched you in war zones, risking everything for a stranded civilian, a barn full of panicked livestock, even the time you went back into that bombed out hovel for that damn kid’s doll...” Hannibal shook his head in disbelief, remembering how he had yelled at Face after that, been so utterly terrified that one day he would lose this incredible man from his life over something as stupid as a sobbing five year old wanting her dolly.
“You are, hands down, the best soldier I have ever had the privilege to serve with, and the finest man I have ever met.” Face turned his head to the side, away from his boss and into the wall, and Hannibal sighed, “You are so, so loyal,” he continued regardless, “once you decide to give your love and trust to someone, once that someone is one of ‘your’ people, then there is nothing you wouldn’t do for them, you’d give up your last dime, the roof over your head, your god dammed life just to keep them safe...”
Hannibal trailed off here, his throat too tight to speak as he remembered the times that Face had flung himself into terrible danger to save Hannibal from a bullet, BA from a mine, Murdock from a car wreck... The kid’s appreciation of personal safety was approaching zero at times.
“And your brain...” shaking his head slowly, Hannibal felt the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he remembered all the times that Face had thought his way out of trouble, the way he tweaked all of Hannibal’s plans, came up with crazy-insane ones of his own, the way his sharp intellect, courage and quick sense of humour combined to produce some of the best smart assed one-liners Hannibal had ever heard, pissing off colleagues, superior officers, bad guys and even the team from time to time. “I am constantly amazed by the things you come up with, your thoughts and ideas are always incredible, innovative and smart, like nothing else I have ever seen before.”
“But it’s your heart,” Hannibal subconsciously pulled him even closer, “your beautiful, loving, giving heart that knocks me on my ass time and time again.” He shook his head again, “The ability you have to love, to give yourself to the people you love just blows me away. I know you’ve had some tough times, Face, and I know you don’t like to talk about them; I know you think it makes you weak, and I know that you worry that one day it will all become too much for me and I will leave you. But nothing could be further from the truth, the way you are, they way you deal with all the shit you’ve had heaped on you – well, it just makes me love you all the more. ”
Hannibal watched carefully, and as expected, Face dropped his head onto his chest, refusing to let the boss see any of his features at all.
“And now you are ashamed,” Hannibal said quietly, his finger tips stroking a bare arm. “What for, honey? For having feelings? For being turned upside down by your mother appearing out of the blue?” Face didn’t answer and Hannibal sighed.
“I’m lost here, Face,” he admitted quietly. “I just don't know what to do. These last few weeks I have tried to do the right thing for you, really I have, I’ve tried to help and make things a bit easier; protect you, and I know I have just ended up making it all worse.” He slipped into silence and Face considered telling him that he didn’t need protecting, could look after himself, but then he remembered how he had crumbled the night after La Maison and held his tongue.
“So, what do I do here?” Hannibal continued the anguish clearly audible in his voice. “You are everything to me, my life, my world, my reason for living. If I can’t help you get through this, if you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on, then what the hell am I doing here? What is the point of us even being together?”
Face froze rigid in his arms and he suddenly realised how his words might be interpreted. “Oh, fucking hell...” he muttered, leaning up and crawling out from under the duvet, keeping hold of Face the whole time as he scrambled forwards until he was straddling Face’s legs, hands on bare shoulders as Face looked determinedly down at the duvet. “No, baby, I’m not breaking up with you, I’m not leaving you, I don't even want all this stupid fucking ‘space’ thing you’ve got going on here!”
“Me?!” Face looked up, despair etched into his entire countenance. “That’s what you wanted!”
Hannibal blinked at him. “Me??!! You suggested it!”
“You agreed!”
Hannibal’s face fell, “Oh, sweetheart...” he moved a hand to cup Face’s cheek. “No, I don't want it. I’ve never wanted it. I want you next to me every second of every day, and when I can’t have that I want to know that you will be wherever I am in the night, pressed up close so I can touch you and hold you and kiss you and love you.” Face dropped his eyes to the covers again and Hannibal sighed. “And what has been happening in your life these last few weeks that makes you think you don’t deserve my love?”
Bingo... Hannibal thought as he saw Face’s ears flush red.
“And the dreams, Face? What’s going on there? Why won't you tell me? You always tell me,” he paused a sudden cold thought in his head, “Unless,” Face looked up at the tone of Hannibal’s voice, “Unless you do want some space...”
“No!” Face shook his head and Hannibal could see the fear in his eyes, “I don’t, boss, I really don’t I just...” he tailed off, words failing him.
“You just what, baby?” Hannibal asked gently, stroking through his hair now, “You just think that if you tell me your secrets I won't love you anymore?” Face’s silence answered his question and Hannibal sighed, trying hard to keep the frustration out of his voice. “What do I have to do to prove to you how important you are to me? All these years we’ve been together, everything we have been through together, doesn’t that tell you anything?”
“I’m sorry,” Face mumbled into his chest and Hannibal let out a long sigh.
“Don’t be sorry, kid,” he said, his voice resigned. “Just be ready to trust me, ready to let me help you. I know I have been a bit of a prick here these last weeks, but you need to talk to me, tell me what I can do to help, tell me if I’m being a prick.”
At last Face looked up, “And you’d listen to me?” he asked quietly; Hannibal felt himself sag.
“I’d try to,” he whispered, “God, Face, I’d try so hard to. Losing you...” he swallowed, “well, it’s just not an option for me.”
They looked at each other, really, honestly looked at each other and Hannibal could see all the pain in Face’s eyes, knew that there was so much that still hadn’t been said but maybe there was nothing else that could be said. His eyes fell onto Face’s lips, so soft and tempting and he leaned in ever so slowly, suddenly very, very aware of how long it had been since he had felt those lips on his, or stroked them with his thumb, or ran his tongue across their soft curves. Face didn’t move, he didn’t lean in but he certainly didn’t pull back either and that gave Hannibal the courage to continue.
He eventually stopped, millimetres away from where he wanted to be, the feel of Face’s breath on his lips. “May I?” he whispered, knowing his words were going straight into Face’s mouth, straight down to his thumping heart.
“Please...” the reply was instantaneous and Hannibal felt it as a breath across his lips as he leaned in and took his prize, gently, firmly, capturing Face’s lips with his own, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, trying to pour himself inside, trying to seal up all the cracks he’d made in his boy over the last two weeks. His hands were roaming; one settling in the back of Face’s curls, one on his bicep, right over his Ranger and his heart soared as he felt Face’s hands slide over his arms, up over his t-shirt and across his back, pulling them together, chest to chest, so that they were sharing one space again.
For long minutes they stayed like this, the kiss, slow and calm, almost like a re-introduction to their relationship, a reaffirmation of their bond. Eventually Hannibal pulled back, feeling the urgency starting to build and not wanting to go there just yet, needing other things to be reconciled first. “I love you,” he whispered, resting their foreheads together in the half light of the room.
“Oh, God, John,” Face whispered in reply, “I love you too. So much. It’s wrong how much I love you, how much I need you.”
“It’s never wrong,” Hannibal corrected him.
“It is,” Face insisted. “It is when it makes me so scared, far too scared to tell you anything; to let you share anything just in case it’s what finally drives you away.”
Hannibal pulled back, his face tense, the expression in his eyes fierce. “You will never drive me away,” he said, clear and firm. “I will never leave you. I will always, always love you. You understand me?”
Face blinked away tears, “It’s hard, boss, it’s just... hard...”
Frowning in thought, Hannibal stroked along Face’s jaw with his thumb. “But you will try though, yes? You will try, for me, to remember how much I love you and how important you are to me?”
Nodding slowly, Face blinked the tears out of his eyes and Hannibal leaned in once more, this time pressing a hard kiss right onto his boy’s forehead. “Good,” he whispered, his voice scratchy. “Good, well that’s all I can ask for right now.”
Face dropped his gaze back to the duvet and Hannibal bit back a sigh, wondering if Face would ever feel confident of his love. He slid off the long legs he was still straddling and shuffled back under the covers, moving up close to Face, turning him around so they were back to chest, Hannibal’s chin back on Face’s shoulder, his arms back around his midriff.
“Get some sleep, kid,” he whispered and Face didn’t answer, but within minutes, the quiet huffs of breath on the top of Hannibal’s arm told him that’s exactly what he had done.
________________________________
When Hannibal awoke, he was disorientated by the unfamiliar room, the dim light that surrounded him and the fact that there was no longer anyone sleeping in his arms. He sat up, turning to look over his shoulder as he did and saw Face sat on the edge of the bed, head in one hand, empty plastic cup in the other.
He sat up, propping himself up against he head board and tried to rub the sleep out of him with a hand in his hair, “Hey,” he said, glancing at the clock which read two thirty a.m., “nightmare?”
Face turned and smiled ruefully at him. “Nah, just can’t sleep, that’s all, too much in my head.”
He turned away again and Hannibal watched him for a moment, the slow steady way his back moved with each breath, the long fingers turning his cup this way and that, the hand in his hair, rhythmically squeezing as if that contact was keeping him grounded, and then he sighed and pulled the duvet back. “Come, here, Face,” he whispered, shuffling back to lying down, “you must be freezing.”
For a second it looked as if Face wasn’t moving, but then he did, putting his empty cup back on the nightstand, he turned and knelt on the bed, that same rueful smile on his lips and then he slid in, tucking his feet under the end of the duvet and creeping close to Hannibal even as the boss covered him up and pulled him in.
They lay like that for a long time, Hannibal feeling Face’s chilled skin slowly warming against him, a hand trailing up and down the smooth skin trying to soothe and settle.
“Maybe,” Hannibal was the one to eventually break the silence, “it’s time to let some of that stuff out of your head. Maybe it will feel better.”
There was no response, not until Face turned on his hip in the circle of Hannibal’s arms to spoon them up together again, Hannibal’s hands on Face’s chest, Face’s hands over the top, but still he didn’t speak.
Hannibal dropped a feather-like kiss onto the neck in front of him and tugged Face a little closer. “I know it hurts you,” he whispered, “right here,” and one of his hands splayed out on that beautiful golden chest, right over the faint pounding he could feel in his palm. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, “let it out and together we will deal with it. You know we can, all the crap we’ve dealt with over the years, think of this like that. And remember I love you, always have, always will.”
Face still didn’t answer, but Hannibal felt him sag slightly in his arms and knew that it was coming, Face had made his decision and all he had to do now was wait.
The wait was longer than he had imagined, almost fifteen minutes of Face, tense and silent in his arms as a hand stroked smooth abs and dusted through fine chest hair until the big intake of breath, like the tide retracting before a Tsunami, told Hannibal it was here.
“She was raped,” Face told him quietly. “That’s how I was conceived, a seventeen year old girl, gang raped on the streets.”
Hannibal felt the pain for Face lance through him like a burning sword to the chest and he pulled him in even closer, pressing his lips to the neck in front of him before murmuring, “I’m sorry, baby, so sorry.” He was shocked to his core but could only imagine how distressed Face had been when he had heard. He was sure, that just like Hannibal, Face had assumed he was the product of desperate teenage sex or maybe even failed contraception, but definitely not fear and violence.
And then another thought struck him so he nuzzled into Face’s neck, making sure they were pressed together along their entire length. “You know that makes no difference to who you are though, right? The way you were conceived bears no reflection to the way you are as a person?” Face didn’t answer and Hannibal sighed, of course. Of course Face would pull this all back onto himself. “You are still you. You are still beautiful inside. You are the beautiful product of a horrible moment.” Silence. “For Adele to have to go through that, but then come away with you at the end of it, well, you must have been a comfort to her.”
“She still left me though,” Face whispered.
“Because of the rape?” Hannibal was frowning, surely if that had been her reason she would have done it as soon as he was born, not lived with him for almost five years first.
“She says not,” Hannibal had to strain to hear the words. “She said that she was being threatened by some mob guy because she wouldn’t whore for him. He didn’t know about me, so she left me behind and ran for it.”
Hannibal absently ran his fingers through the hair on Face’s chest as he mulled this information over. He supposed it made sense, she would only have been twenty two and had obviously had a tough time of things, Hannibal didn't think for one minute she had done right by Face, but he could certainly understand why she’d thought it would work. “You don't sound convinced,” Hannibal prompted and felt Face deflate in his arms once more.
“I... I’ve been having these dreams, boss,” he mumbled eventually and Hannibal could see the flush of embarrassment on the back of his ear.
“Yeah?”
“About my time with... her... before she left.”
Hannibal winced at the trouble Face was having with his words but gave him a little squeeze instead. “Go on.”
“Well, I don't know if they are true or just my imagination going wild, but...”
He stuttered to a halt and Hannibal petted the warm expanse of muscle under his hand, “It’s okay,” he whispered, “you know you can tell me.”
“Well, in my dreams, we don’t live in this sweet little beach house like she told me, we live in a trailer on the edge of some run down trailer park...” he paused, waiting for the disgusted reaction from Hannibal that never came. Encouraged he continued, “And she doesn’t work in a casino, in fact she doesn’t work at all, she just drinks and gets pissed and sleeps it off and leaves me to get my own food, and put myself to bed.” Hannibal held his breath; he could almost hear that dam breaking inside his boy. “And she’s always angry and hits me if I don’t do things right or fast enough. The other kids say she’s a tramp and she lets anyone sleep with her, and she made me steal vodka for her but then ran off and let the security guard catch me and he hit me and I had to bite and kick and scratch to get away. She goes out on a night and leaves me alone in the trailer on my own, won’t even leave the electricity on when she goes and the older kids always come around and throw stones at the windows and yell and light fires under the trailer and say they are gonna burn us alive and I hate it but when I tell her she just says I’m a baby and I need to grow up and let her have a life and that she wants to be an actress and how can she be an actress if she always has me hanging around her and bleeding her dry? And she goes out every night she’s sober and I’m so scared and I don’t want her to go out anymore and leave me and what if she never comes back? Or the trailer catches fire or one of those men she brings in touches me again or-”
Face was frantic and Hannibal uncomfortably realised that somewhere in his soliloquy, he had lost his grip on what was real and now, and what wasn’t. The kid was slipping and Hannibal had promised he wouldn’t let him, so as much as he hated to do this when Face was finally, finally, letting it all out, Hannibal needed to take it in hand.
“Hey,” he soothed, “hey, hey, baby, shhh. That’s not now, that’s all happened, all gone now.” He kissed a line along Face’s shoulder, giving him a second to try and reel his breathing back in. “I’m with you now,” he whispered, “and I will never leave you, will never let you be alone in the dark. Okay?”
In the blink of an eye, Face flipped over, burying himself in Hannibal’s chest and Hannibal held him tight, not letting him drift away, soothing and stroking and keeping him grounded, all the while whispering gentle sounds and reassuring words of love.
Next
“She told me some things,” he eventually said and Hannibal felt that jolt in his chest once more and suddenly realised how incredibly fed up of all of this he was. He knew Face was being evasive with him, knew the kid guarded his secrets very carefully indeed and knew that it had always been that way, but now, he didn’t want it any more. He didn’t want to go into Murdock’s room on a morning secretly dreading what he would see, he didn't want to have to creep into hotel rooms wondering if Face had walked out on him, he didn't want to have any ‘space’ between them anymore, he wanted to be pressed up so tight to Face for the rest of his life, so tight you couldn’t slide a credit card between them, that’s what he wanted.
But then he looked at Face’s reflection in the screen of the television and his heart sank again as he took in his lieutenant’s expression, he could almost see those damn walls stacking up, that bland conman expression slipping into place as Face fought to hide from Hannibal, struggled to keep private the very things that they should be sharing, the things that would only bring them closer together, not drive them apart as Face feared. So Hannibal did the only thing he could think of and started talking, taking the drink from Face’s fingers and holding his man securely around the chest, meshing them together physically, he went about trying to bind them together mentally.
“You are the most precious thing in the world to me,” he said softly, his chin on Face’s shoulder. “I fell in love with you when you were just a child, and I can only marvel at how much I love you more with each passing day.” Face was silent, but Hannibal could see he was listening, his long fingers still as he concentrated on Hannibal’s words. “You said the other day that I don’t know you, that I don't know the things you are capable of, but you are so wrong, sweetheart, so, so wrong. I know you inside out, I know you better than you know yourself, because while all you see are your difficulties, the things you find hard, the mistakes you might make, I see those and all the rest as well, the beautiful, shining qualities that made you stand out from the crowd in Kuwait, that brought my eye to you even as you walked across the tarmac on the landing strip.” He paused to turn and press a kiss into the warmth of Face’s neck, feeling the fluttering of an anxious pulse under his lips, before he continued with his words.
“You are strong, mentally and physically, and so determined, once you’ve made up your mind about something, nothing will get in your way. Your streak of humanity is a mile wide, kid, the amount of times I watched you in war zones, risking everything for a stranded civilian, a barn full of panicked livestock, even the time you went back into that bombed out hovel for that damn kid’s doll...” Hannibal shook his head in disbelief, remembering how he had yelled at Face after that, been so utterly terrified that one day he would lose this incredible man from his life over something as stupid as a sobbing five year old wanting her dolly.
“You are, hands down, the best soldier I have ever had the privilege to serve with, and the finest man I have ever met.” Face turned his head to the side, away from his boss and into the wall, and Hannibal sighed, “You are so, so loyal,” he continued regardless, “once you decide to give your love and trust to someone, once that someone is one of ‘your’ people, then there is nothing you wouldn’t do for them, you’d give up your last dime, the roof over your head, your god dammed life just to keep them safe...”
Hannibal trailed off here, his throat too tight to speak as he remembered the times that Face had flung himself into terrible danger to save Hannibal from a bullet, BA from a mine, Murdock from a car wreck... The kid’s appreciation of personal safety was approaching zero at times.
“And your brain...” shaking his head slowly, Hannibal felt the smile that tugged at the corners of his mouth as he remembered all the times that Face had thought his way out of trouble, the way he tweaked all of Hannibal’s plans, came up with crazy-insane ones of his own, the way his sharp intellect, courage and quick sense of humour combined to produce some of the best smart assed one-liners Hannibal had ever heard, pissing off colleagues, superior officers, bad guys and even the team from time to time. “I am constantly amazed by the things you come up with, your thoughts and ideas are always incredible, innovative and smart, like nothing else I have ever seen before.”
“But it’s your heart,” Hannibal subconsciously pulled him even closer, “your beautiful, loving, giving heart that knocks me on my ass time and time again.” He shook his head again, “The ability you have to love, to give yourself to the people you love just blows me away. I know you’ve had some tough times, Face, and I know you don’t like to talk about them; I know you think it makes you weak, and I know that you worry that one day it will all become too much for me and I will leave you. But nothing could be further from the truth, the way you are, they way you deal with all the shit you’ve had heaped on you – well, it just makes me love you all the more. ”
Hannibal watched carefully, and as expected, Face dropped his head onto his chest, refusing to let the boss see any of his features at all.
“And now you are ashamed,” Hannibal said quietly, his finger tips stroking a bare arm. “What for, honey? For having feelings? For being turned upside down by your mother appearing out of the blue?” Face didn’t answer and Hannibal sighed.
“I’m lost here, Face,” he admitted quietly. “I just don't know what to do. These last few weeks I have tried to do the right thing for you, really I have, I’ve tried to help and make things a bit easier; protect you, and I know I have just ended up making it all worse.” He slipped into silence and Face considered telling him that he didn’t need protecting, could look after himself, but then he remembered how he had crumbled the night after La Maison and held his tongue.
“So, what do I do here?” Hannibal continued the anguish clearly audible in his voice. “You are everything to me, my life, my world, my reason for living. If I can’t help you get through this, if you don’t trust me enough to tell me what’s going on, then what the hell am I doing here? What is the point of us even being together?”
Face froze rigid in his arms and he suddenly realised how his words might be interpreted. “Oh, fucking hell...” he muttered, leaning up and crawling out from under the duvet, keeping hold of Face the whole time as he scrambled forwards until he was straddling Face’s legs, hands on bare shoulders as Face looked determinedly down at the duvet. “No, baby, I’m not breaking up with you, I’m not leaving you, I don't even want all this stupid fucking ‘space’ thing you’ve got going on here!”
“Me?!” Face looked up, despair etched into his entire countenance. “That’s what you wanted!”
Hannibal blinked at him. “Me??!! You suggested it!”
“You agreed!”
Hannibal’s face fell, “Oh, sweetheart...” he moved a hand to cup Face’s cheek. “No, I don't want it. I’ve never wanted it. I want you next to me every second of every day, and when I can’t have that I want to know that you will be wherever I am in the night, pressed up close so I can touch you and hold you and kiss you and love you.” Face dropped his eyes to the covers again and Hannibal sighed. “And what has been happening in your life these last few weeks that makes you think you don’t deserve my love?”
Bingo... Hannibal thought as he saw Face’s ears flush red.
“And the dreams, Face? What’s going on there? Why won't you tell me? You always tell me,” he paused a sudden cold thought in his head, “Unless,” Face looked up at the tone of Hannibal’s voice, “Unless you do want some space...”
“No!” Face shook his head and Hannibal could see the fear in his eyes, “I don’t, boss, I really don’t I just...” he tailed off, words failing him.
“You just what, baby?” Hannibal asked gently, stroking through his hair now, “You just think that if you tell me your secrets I won't love you anymore?” Face’s silence answered his question and Hannibal sighed, trying hard to keep the frustration out of his voice. “What do I have to do to prove to you how important you are to me? All these years we’ve been together, everything we have been through together, doesn’t that tell you anything?”
“I’m sorry,” Face mumbled into his chest and Hannibal let out a long sigh.
“Don’t be sorry, kid,” he said, his voice resigned. “Just be ready to trust me, ready to let me help you. I know I have been a bit of a prick here these last weeks, but you need to talk to me, tell me what I can do to help, tell me if I’m being a prick.”
At last Face looked up, “And you’d listen to me?” he asked quietly; Hannibal felt himself sag.
“I’d try to,” he whispered, “God, Face, I’d try so hard to. Losing you...” he swallowed, “well, it’s just not an option for me.”
They looked at each other, really, honestly looked at each other and Hannibal could see all the pain in Face’s eyes, knew that there was so much that still hadn’t been said but maybe there was nothing else that could be said. His eyes fell onto Face’s lips, so soft and tempting and he leaned in ever so slowly, suddenly very, very aware of how long it had been since he had felt those lips on his, or stroked them with his thumb, or ran his tongue across their soft curves. Face didn’t move, he didn’t lean in but he certainly didn’t pull back either and that gave Hannibal the courage to continue.
He eventually stopped, millimetres away from where he wanted to be, the feel of Face’s breath on his lips. “May I?” he whispered, knowing his words were going straight into Face’s mouth, straight down to his thumping heart.
“Please...” the reply was instantaneous and Hannibal felt it as a breath across his lips as he leaned in and took his prize, gently, firmly, capturing Face’s lips with his own, kissing him slowly, thoroughly, trying to pour himself inside, trying to seal up all the cracks he’d made in his boy over the last two weeks. His hands were roaming; one settling in the back of Face’s curls, one on his bicep, right over his Ranger and his heart soared as he felt Face’s hands slide over his arms, up over his t-shirt and across his back, pulling them together, chest to chest, so that they were sharing one space again.
For long minutes they stayed like this, the kiss, slow and calm, almost like a re-introduction to their relationship, a reaffirmation of their bond. Eventually Hannibal pulled back, feeling the urgency starting to build and not wanting to go there just yet, needing other things to be reconciled first. “I love you,” he whispered, resting their foreheads together in the half light of the room.
“Oh, God, John,” Face whispered in reply, “I love you too. So much. It’s wrong how much I love you, how much I need you.”
“It’s never wrong,” Hannibal corrected him.
“It is,” Face insisted. “It is when it makes me so scared, far too scared to tell you anything; to let you share anything just in case it’s what finally drives you away.”
Hannibal pulled back, his face tense, the expression in his eyes fierce. “You will never drive me away,” he said, clear and firm. “I will never leave you. I will always, always love you. You understand me?”
Face blinked away tears, “It’s hard, boss, it’s just... hard...”
Frowning in thought, Hannibal stroked along Face’s jaw with his thumb. “But you will try though, yes? You will try, for me, to remember how much I love you and how important you are to me?”
Nodding slowly, Face blinked the tears out of his eyes and Hannibal leaned in once more, this time pressing a hard kiss right onto his boy’s forehead. “Good,” he whispered, his voice scratchy. “Good, well that’s all I can ask for right now.”
Face dropped his gaze back to the duvet and Hannibal bit back a sigh, wondering if Face would ever feel confident of his love. He slid off the long legs he was still straddling and shuffled back under the covers, moving up close to Face, turning him around so they were back to chest, Hannibal’s chin back on Face’s shoulder, his arms back around his midriff.
“Get some sleep, kid,” he whispered and Face didn’t answer, but within minutes, the quiet huffs of breath on the top of Hannibal’s arm told him that’s exactly what he had done.
________________________________
When Hannibal awoke, he was disorientated by the unfamiliar room, the dim light that surrounded him and the fact that there was no longer anyone sleeping in his arms. He sat up, turning to look over his shoulder as he did and saw Face sat on the edge of the bed, head in one hand, empty plastic cup in the other.
He sat up, propping himself up against he head board and tried to rub the sleep out of him with a hand in his hair, “Hey,” he said, glancing at the clock which read two thirty a.m., “nightmare?”
Face turned and smiled ruefully at him. “Nah, just can’t sleep, that’s all, too much in my head.”
He turned away again and Hannibal watched him for a moment, the slow steady way his back moved with each breath, the long fingers turning his cup this way and that, the hand in his hair, rhythmically squeezing as if that contact was keeping him grounded, and then he sighed and pulled the duvet back. “Come, here, Face,” he whispered, shuffling back to lying down, “you must be freezing.”
For a second it looked as if Face wasn’t moving, but then he did, putting his empty cup back on the nightstand, he turned and knelt on the bed, that same rueful smile on his lips and then he slid in, tucking his feet under the end of the duvet and creeping close to Hannibal even as the boss covered him up and pulled him in.
They lay like that for a long time, Hannibal feeling Face’s chilled skin slowly warming against him, a hand trailing up and down the smooth skin trying to soothe and settle.
“Maybe,” Hannibal was the one to eventually break the silence, “it’s time to let some of that stuff out of your head. Maybe it will feel better.”
There was no response, not until Face turned on his hip in the circle of Hannibal’s arms to spoon them up together again, Hannibal’s hands on Face’s chest, Face’s hands over the top, but still he didn’t speak.
Hannibal dropped a feather-like kiss onto the neck in front of him and tugged Face a little closer. “I know it hurts you,” he whispered, “right here,” and one of his hands splayed out on that beautiful golden chest, right over the faint pounding he could feel in his palm. “Trust me, sweetheart,” he encouraged, “let it out and together we will deal with it. You know we can, all the crap we’ve dealt with over the years, think of this like that. And remember I love you, always have, always will.”
Face still didn’t answer, but Hannibal felt him sag slightly in his arms and knew that it was coming, Face had made his decision and all he had to do now was wait.
The wait was longer than he had imagined, almost fifteen minutes of Face, tense and silent in his arms as a hand stroked smooth abs and dusted through fine chest hair until the big intake of breath, like the tide retracting before a Tsunami, told Hannibal it was here.
“She was raped,” Face told him quietly. “That’s how I was conceived, a seventeen year old girl, gang raped on the streets.”
Hannibal felt the pain for Face lance through him like a burning sword to the chest and he pulled him in even closer, pressing his lips to the neck in front of him before murmuring, “I’m sorry, baby, so sorry.” He was shocked to his core but could only imagine how distressed Face had been when he had heard. He was sure, that just like Hannibal, Face had assumed he was the product of desperate teenage sex or maybe even failed contraception, but definitely not fear and violence.
And then another thought struck him so he nuzzled into Face’s neck, making sure they were pressed together along their entire length. “You know that makes no difference to who you are though, right? The way you were conceived bears no reflection to the way you are as a person?” Face didn’t answer and Hannibal sighed, of course. Of course Face would pull this all back onto himself. “You are still you. You are still beautiful inside. You are the beautiful product of a horrible moment.” Silence. “For Adele to have to go through that, but then come away with you at the end of it, well, you must have been a comfort to her.”
“She still left me though,” Face whispered.
“Because of the rape?” Hannibal was frowning, surely if that had been her reason she would have done it as soon as he was born, not lived with him for almost five years first.
“She says not,” Hannibal had to strain to hear the words. “She said that she was being threatened by some mob guy because she wouldn’t whore for him. He didn’t know about me, so she left me behind and ran for it.”
Hannibal absently ran his fingers through the hair on Face’s chest as he mulled this information over. He supposed it made sense, she would only have been twenty two and had obviously had a tough time of things, Hannibal didn't think for one minute she had done right by Face, but he could certainly understand why she’d thought it would work. “You don't sound convinced,” Hannibal prompted and felt Face deflate in his arms once more.
“I... I’ve been having these dreams, boss,” he mumbled eventually and Hannibal could see the flush of embarrassment on the back of his ear.
“Yeah?”
“About my time with... her... before she left.”
Hannibal winced at the trouble Face was having with his words but gave him a little squeeze instead. “Go on.”
“Well, I don't know if they are true or just my imagination going wild, but...”
He stuttered to a halt and Hannibal petted the warm expanse of muscle under his hand, “It’s okay,” he whispered, “you know you can tell me.”
“Well, in my dreams, we don’t live in this sweet little beach house like she told me, we live in a trailer on the edge of some run down trailer park...” he paused, waiting for the disgusted reaction from Hannibal that never came. Encouraged he continued, “And she doesn’t work in a casino, in fact she doesn’t work at all, she just drinks and gets pissed and sleeps it off and leaves me to get my own food, and put myself to bed.” Hannibal held his breath; he could almost hear that dam breaking inside his boy. “And she’s always angry and hits me if I don’t do things right or fast enough. The other kids say she’s a tramp and she lets anyone sleep with her, and she made me steal vodka for her but then ran off and let the security guard catch me and he hit me and I had to bite and kick and scratch to get away. She goes out on a night and leaves me alone in the trailer on my own, won’t even leave the electricity on when she goes and the older kids always come around and throw stones at the windows and yell and light fires under the trailer and say they are gonna burn us alive and I hate it but when I tell her she just says I’m a baby and I need to grow up and let her have a life and that she wants to be an actress and how can she be an actress if she always has me hanging around her and bleeding her dry? And she goes out every night she’s sober and I’m so scared and I don’t want her to go out anymore and leave me and what if she never comes back? Or the trailer catches fire or one of those men she brings in touches me again or-”
Face was frantic and Hannibal uncomfortably realised that somewhere in his soliloquy, he had lost his grip on what was real and now, and what wasn’t. The kid was slipping and Hannibal had promised he wouldn’t let him, so as much as he hated to do this when Face was finally, finally, letting it all out, Hannibal needed to take it in hand.
“Hey,” he soothed, “hey, hey, baby, shhh. That’s not now, that’s all happened, all gone now.” He kissed a line along Face’s shoulder, giving him a second to try and reel his breathing back in. “I’m with you now,” he whispered, “and I will never leave you, will never let you be alone in the dark. Okay?”
In the blink of an eye, Face flipped over, burying himself in Hannibal’s chest and Hannibal held him tight, not letting him drift away, soothing and stroking and keeping him grounded, all the while whispering gentle sounds and reassuring words of love.
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no subject
Date: 2011-10-16 10:51 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 07:06 pm (UTC)It's nice to write about it though! :D
Thanks for commenting!
no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 04:31 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 07:08 pm (UTC)(So, were these 'potential boyfriends' or 'potential issues'???? I'm intrigued! Whatever they were, hope they are sorted now :D )
no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 03:40 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-17 07:10 pm (UTC)Surely she wouldn't do THAT though? Not even Adele can be that bad a mother. Surely...