indigo_angels

Hannibal tried to bite down the anxiety he felt as he leaned over the balcony and scanned up and down the beach for about the thirtieth time in as many minutes. This should have been paradise. He had his boys back together, Joey Pacitto had been charged with the murder of Jessica Gaarder, they’d managed to slip out of Illinois despite the heavy military police presence and Hannibal had brought them here to this sprawling, isolated beach front house just north of Watsonville, California for some quality down time.

However, and Hannibal was really beginning to hate that word, things weren’t really going to plan.

There had been a more than promising start. When he had risen that early morning in Crystal Lake with the gnawing fear in his gut that Face was about to take off on them again, the very best he had let himself hope for was that he would at least be able to keep in touch. That Face would tell them where he was headed, maybe even let them have a mobile number since he had found it so easy to lie to them via e-mail. He never dreamed that Face would come back, that they would, at last, work out where all their crossed wires had led them and that Face would finally, finally admit that he loved and needed his commander just as much as Hannibal loved and needed him.

And then they had had some pretty hot make up sex, but that’s what had ultimately led them to this point, and Hannibal was done with thinking about that for now.

He heard someone behind him and turned to see BA, still wet from the shower, padding towards him with a cold beer. He nodded in thanks as he took the can and turned back to the beach in silence.

“No sign of them?” BA knew what the answer would be, he just wanted to try and ease a bit of the tension.

“No.”

BA clapped him on the shoulder and turned back to the house, “He’ll come back, boss, he loves you,” and Hannibal turned to watch him leave.

He still couldn’t get his head around how easily Murdock and BA had accepted this thing between him and Face. It transpires they’d both known about it since the very first day that the two had stumbled into bed together after a ridiculously tits-up mission in Sacramento. Hannibal shook his head, and he and Face had thought they were being so hush-hush about it all.

But then Face and Murdock were so close, he supposed he should have guessed that the pilot would notice something.

It was so weird the way that the two of them had this almost telepathic link sometimes. He remembered BA shaking his head once after Face had just lost it when Murdock had taken a bullet graze to the neck. He’d turned to Hannibal and muttered, “They both fools boss, cut one, the other bleeds!” And Hannibal had nodded in agreement. Since Face had first left LA almost two years ago, Murdock had struggled with every single day. Some were worse than others, and Hannibal had had a taste of how truly awful things could have gone on that last day in Crystal Falls.

Three weeks ago...

Face had been asleep for a little over an hour when Hannibal silently slipped from the bed, pulled on his boxers and started packing up. The second that Face awoke, they were getting in that van and getting the hell out. It was going to be a long trip back south, but Face had been out of the sun and the heat for two years, and after the last month he deserved nothing less than the chance to lie next to a pool while he recovered, and that was exactly what Hannibal was going to give him.

He heard noises in the rest of the house as the other team members started to wake. He looked at his half filled bag, he would just finish this then he would go downstairs and explain the slight change in circumstances and plan.

He never got that chance.

He’d just opened another drawer with the intention of emptying it out when a piercing wail reached him from along the corridor. He glanced at Face who stirred but didn’t wake then grabbed his gun and slipped out of the room, closing the door behind him.

He’d heard footsteps pounding down the stairs as he had reached for his gun and followed, taking them three at a time and skidding into the kitchen.

Murdock was standing in the doorway, hands clutching BA’s arms so hard that Hannibal could actually see the big guy wince, but he was holding Murdock back, stopping him from running out of the door in nothing but his bare feet, briefs and a cooking apron. Hannibal didn’t even have the time to register how weird that was in itself before he saw the look on Murdock’s face and his heart just sank.

“He’s gone! He’s gone!” Murdock was wailing, hands off BA’s arms now and reaching for the door instead, “Get off me! I need to find him!”

“Jus’ wait, fool!” in all the commotion, BA hadn’t heard Hannibal’s entrance, “We need to get the boss! Get some clothes on! We aint gonna find him tearing out like this!”

Murdock wasn’t listening, the look on his face so wild, Hannibal didn’t even think he was hearing. “I made him pancakes! They’ll be cold! Get the fuck off me!”

But BA hung on and even pushed him back away from the doorway and that’s when he saw Hannibal, “Boss! Face has gone again and this fool’s just lost it!” the worry in his eyes betrayed the harshness of his words.

“He’s not gone,” Hannibal marched over to his men, “He’s in my room.” He grabbed Murdock’s head and turned his face away from the door, “Captain!” but Murdock’s eyes were everywhere, it was like he couldn’t keep them still if he wanted to.

“The pancakes!” Murdock wailed and Hannibal tried again.

“HM! Son, listen to me!” But it was a lost cause. Murdock wrenched his head from Hannibal’s hands and darted back for the door, but BA got to him first, grabbing him round the waist and spinning him back into the kitchen.

Murdock reacted without thought, bringing his head back into BA’s face and his elbow into his stomach at the same time. BA hissed in pain but held on as Hannibal grabbed Murdock’s wrists, “Stand down!” he shouted, but still Murdock wasn’t hearing him.

“Murdock, buddy!” the voice came from behind them and the effect it had on them all was instantaneous. Murdock froze, everyone froze, and they all turned to the foot of the stairs.

Face was there, naked and clinging one handed onto the banister rail as if his life depended on it, the other arm wrapped tightly around his ribs. His skin was ashen grey and he looked like he was shaking ever so slightly, but his voice was clear and his eyes were pinned straight into his friend.

“Don’t worry, bud, I’m here.”

All the tension in Murdock’s body just leaked straight out and his whole expression and demeanour changed. He beamed at Face and started for him, Hannibal was terrified he was going to grab the kid in some kind of bear hug which would just about finish him off, but he didn’t. Instead he skidded to a halt in front of him and picked up his face in his hands, kissing both his cheeks and his forehead before stepping back to grin at him, “I made you pancakes!” he told him, as if the last five minutes hadn’t even happened, “You want them with chocolate on?”

Face smiled, but Hannibal could see the pain in it, “Yeah, bud, that’d be great,” and Murdock spun into the kitchen whistling a random tune.

As soon as he had gone, Face seemed to sag, and BA caught hold of him, ignoring his naked state, and scooped him up to place him gently on the sofa. He looked over his shoulder into the kitchen where Hannibal had his hand on Murdock’s shoulder while the pilot heaped chocolate sauce over stacks of pancakes, then turned back to Face who was still grey, fighting to steady his breathing while watching BA carefully.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, the pain obvious in his words.

BA frowned, “What for, man?”

“For having my head up my ass,” they both smiled and Face’s eyes flicked over to the kitchen and back, “For nearly breaking both of them.”

The smile disappeared from BA’s expression and he studied Face carefully. “You stayin’ or leavin’?” he asked.

There was no hesitation, “Staying. For as long as he’ll have me.”

And BA laughed, gently ruffling his hair, “Well, you here for good then, brother, ‘cause the boss got it baaad for you!” and grinning at the lieutenant in relief, he pulled the throw from the back of the sofa and covered Face with it before heading for the stairs, “And I’m gonna go get you a shot of somethin’ Face. You look like crap.”

Face sighed and let his head fall back on the arm of the sofa, closing his eyes. Shit. He felt it too.

“Face,” he hadn’t heard Hannibal approach, but suddenly the boss was there at his side, one hand gently tracing his jaw, the other on his shoulder.

“Hey, boss,” Face opened his eyes and felt his whole face light up in a smile. He turned his head to kiss the hand on his jaw then relaxed back onto the arm rest.

Hannibal was rubbing tiny circles in the stubble on his cheek, “I’m sorry, kid, I really am.”

Face cracked one eye open, “What for?” the edges of worry darkened his eyes.

Hannibal gestured down his body, “For this!” the snap in his voice brought a frown to expression, “We shouldn’t have done it. I told you I would hurt you. Now look at you, I’ve set you back days!”

Face felt himself tense, sensing an argument, “Hannibal. I’m a big boy; I can make my own decisions.”

But Hannibal was moving away as BA and Murdock arrived with pain med and pancakes. He caught Face’s eye as he drifted back upstairs to pack and the almost imperceptibly shake of his head had Face grinding his teeth in frustration.

Present day...

But since that crazy morning in Illinois, Murdock had been the calmest, the most grounded that Hannibal had ever seen. The man continued to amaze him.

Unfortunately, things with Face had not been going quite so smoothly. Hannibal knew that Face had always had a certain disregard for his own personal safety. He seemed to think it was more important for his team to be safe than for himself. Hannibal had worked on that with him over the years, hoping that one day he would see his own worth. He’d had some success, he couldn’t deny that, but not as much as he would have liked.

His plan that Face would spend the next month stretched out on a sun bed, letting his body and his mind slowly recover, had been blown out the windows the second they arrived at the house.

The first activity that Hannibal had had to rein in was the quad bike safari that Murdock was planning after finding three quad bikes in the garage. He was appalled to hear them planning on taking them out the next day and trying them out in the dunes; Hannibal had put a stop to it at once, had banned Face from going anywhere near the damn things. Face had just looked at him and Hannibal had tensed for an argument, but it had never come. Instead his lieutenant turned to Murdock and shrugged, “Sorry, you guys will have to go without me,” and Hannibal had exhaled in relief.

They had the same carry on when Murdock rented kite boarding kits, then again with the wind surfing lessons they had signed up for.

Each time Hannibal had expected an explosion that didn’t come, just a long hard look and apologies to Murdock. And instead of going out with the others, Face would come and lie next to his colonel, his head resting on a flat stomach while Hannibal read by the pool, or watched a movie or just looked at the sea.

It was only when Hannibal said that Face couldn’t go to the mall with the others, or even to the cinema, that the look started to get a little strained, but Hannibal knew he was doing the right thing. Face was still hurting, was still having nightmares every night. He wasn’t ready to do all the things he wanted to yet; and that included sex.

That morning in Crystal Falls when Hannibal had let Face talk him into sex had been a mistake. The surge of guilt that Hannibal had felt seeing Face in so much pain he could hardly breathe, had almost crippled him. There was no way on earth that he was going to let that happen again, and there was nothing that Face’s wheedling and whining and plotting could do about it.

So, in three weeks of sharing a bed, there had been nothing. Not a kiss or a touch or a blow job or even a hand job. Face had spat his dummy out, if Hannibal wasn’t going to fuck him, then Hannibal wasn’t going to touch him. But Hannibal had agreed, if that was the way Face wanted it, then fine, the more physical activity he abstained from, the more chance his body would have to recover.

Fine.

Face didn’t need to know about the hours he spent laid stock still, his cock straining hard in his shorts. He didn’t need to know about the frantic hand jobs in the shower every morning and every night, just so he could get through the next eight hours without touching. He didn’t need to know how Face walking around in nothing but swimming shorts all day every day affected him, or how sleeping next to that long, naked body on a night had him sweating with the air con on full. The lieutenant didn’t need to know any of that because he knew he was doing the right thing, and as long as Face still winced when he coughed and the fading black bruises were still visible on his skin, then Hannibal would continue to do the right thing, no matter what it cost him.

Or that’s what he’d thought, but maybe the price had just sky rocketed...

That morning...

Hannibal woke up facing the ocean, the windows open and a cool breeze on his face. Perfect. What made it even more so was the hot body pressed up against his back and the hand resting gently on his chest.

“Morning...” Face’s obscenely sexy ‘just woken up’ voice was right in his ear and Hannibal winced as he felt his cock spring, embarrassing quickly, into life. Then the lieutenant moved against him and Hannibal realised he wasn’t the only one with morning wood. He tried to slip out of the bed, but Face was too quick for him, the hand on his chest slipping down to grab hold of his rapidly swelling cock.

“Not so fast, boss, you seem to be having a bit of a problem here. Like me to help you out with that?”

Hannibal relaxed back into him. It seemed the kid had finally decided he’d had enough of the ‘all or nothing rule’. Excellent.

“Because,” Face’s voice seemed to get even more hot, “I’d really, really like you to fuck me, John. What do you say, three weeks is a long time to go without... Just think how tight I’ll be for you...”

Or maybe not.

Hannibal was out of the bed and against the wall in a second, his impressive erection proof of the partial success of Face’s seduction attempt.

“No,” he said, slightly embarrassed at the breathless voice he came out with. “Not until you are fit enough.”

Face threw himself back onto the pillows, frustration leaking from every pore, “God, Hannibal! There is nothing wrong with me! What the fuck is wrong with you!”

His eyes widened in shook, “Me? I’m not the one who winced climbing into the pool yesterday!”

Face’s hands flew up into his hair, “Seriously? Hannibal, it was fucking freezing!”

“I’m not the one having nightmares every night!”

Narrowed eyes stared at him from the bed, “I’ve had nightmares every fucking night for years Hannibal. If you’re going to wait for them to go, we’ll be too old to get it up!”

There was a standoff.

“No,” Hannibal eventually replied, “not yet.”

Face looked at him for one long second, then swung his legs out of the bed, “Fine,” he bit out, opening a drawer and reaching in, “That’s just fine. If you want me,” he yanked out a pair of black shorts and dragged them on, bending to pick up the black A-shirt he’d dropped in the process, “I’m going running with Murdock.”

Hannibal stepped in front of the door, “No, you are not.”

Face tugged the A-shirt over his head and took a step forward, “I am. Now, please move away from the door.”

Hannibal’s eyes narrowed, “Face...” and it was said in that tone he’d heard all too often over the years. It was the tone that said, ‘You are pushing your luck here lieutenant, step back and think again and Face had been ignoring that tone since forever.

“Don’t make me use force, Colonel...”

The temperature in the room dropped noticeably.

“You don’t need to,” Hannibal’s voice was crushed ice, grating against Face’s nerves, “I’m giving you an order, lieutenant, and I expect you to follow it.”

Face narrowed his eyes and Hannibal saw him swallow, hard.

“Come on kid,” Hannibal reached out a placating hand, “You know this is going nowhere. You’re a good soldier, the best, and you know you always follow my orders.”

Edging back from the grasping fingers Face felt himself seething with barely suppressed resentment, “Only because I believed in them. Believed in you,” Hannibal frowned at the tone of his voice, “but today I am going running.”

He stepped forward and shoved Hannibal to one side as he yanked the door open and stormed out. Hannibal was too shocked to try and stop him.

After a moment’s stunned inaction, he turned to the balcony and looked out, just in time to see Face, with a flustered Murdock in tow, running down the path through the gardens and onto the beach, disappearing behind the perimeter fence in seconds. Murdock stopped at the gate to tug his trainers onto his feet and throw a resentful glare up at Hannibal before he too slipped through the gate and out of sight.

Back to present...

And that had been, Hannibal looked at his watch, nine whole hours ago. His stomach shifted uncomfortably and he reminded himself for about the hundredth time that Face had promised he wouldn’t leave again. He’d promised, Hannibal had believed him, and the kid didn’t break his promises. He would be back.

Almost in perfect synchronicity with his thoughts, the latch on the gate clicked and Hannibal’s eyes snapped down to see Murdock dragging himself into the garden. He looked exhausted, and his shoulders and cheek bones were pink from too much sun. And he was by himself.

Again that uncomfortable shift and Murdock’s eyes lifted up to meet his, “He’s swimming,” he shouted up, “in the sea.” Hannibal felt there was a challenge in that statement that he wasn’t going to rise to.

Within moments, HM was standing beside him, draining a can of beer noisily and Hannibal waited. If the captain wanted to say something, he would listen, if not, well, he wasn’t really sure he wanted to hear what Face had been saying about him all day anyway.

Murdock crushed the can in his palm and rested his hands on the balcony looking out at the way the sea was turning red under the sunset. “You know boss,” his tone was light, conversational, nothing like the resentment Hannibal had expected, “He’s tougher than you are giving him credit for. You of all people should know that.”

Hannibal let out a sigh and felt his fingers contract on the railing, “I’m just trying to look out for him, HM, he’s not up to any of this yet.”

Turning to rest his back on the balcony rail, Murdock folded his arms and studied his colonel, “What’s got you so wound up? You think you’ll break him?” he shook his head, “I don’t think he’s the one you’re really worried about...” and he pushed off back into the house with a quick, “Shower!” thrown over his shoulder and Hannibal’s forehead creased in thought.

Epilogue 2