by brooklinegirl (witchbaby)
PG
1/2001
Coming to terms with being in love.
The snow was falling down hard outside. The wind whipped it so it flew by almost sideways, big, thick flakes coating the city. Weird. East coast weather was so odd, so fierce, so real. Not like California, where, like everything, the weather came in subversively, and you never knew why you were feeling so out of sorts, so fucked up, till you found out the Santa Anas were blowing again.
Face stood looking out the window at the oddity of east coast weather. So much snow, even the natives were getting anxious over it. His shoulders hurt, his stomach was tight from the tension. Right now, all he wanted was numbness.
There was a small sound from the bed behind him, and he turned around swiftly, worry a palpable part of him. He was at the bed in an instant, crouching down to look into Murdock’s face. Murdock looked distinctly unhealthy. His skin had a grayish cast to it, and he lay very still, an odd state for Murdock. He was usually so wound up, so in motion. To see him so quiet only accentuated the fact that something was wrong. Face took his hand and held it tight. Murdock didn’t move.
It was supposed to be so easy. It just went down early. Hannibal was on his way to join them, would be here tomorrow, but the con had just gone down early, that was all. Still, it was Face’s fault. He was the one who had set it up. The one with the plan, this time. It was Face’s fault.
More so for the fact that he had sent Murdock in, relying on him to be able to uphold the con. Murdock did good, real good, but not good enough. The guys they were trying to con had some information, some spook of theirs was onto them. Knew all about the Team. So that when Face sent Murdock in, Murdock was immediately made, and taken, and beaten. Beaten badly. The guys had wanted information on where the rest of the Team was. But Murdock was good at keeping his mouth shut when he had to. Face had gone in earlier than they had planned it, for some reason even he wasn’t sure about. Knew something had gone wrong, bad wrong. Somehow, he didn’t quite remember how, kicked the shit out of those guys. Gotten the cops in, without getting caught. Gotten Murdock out, without getting caught. Didn’t quite know how. Didn’t really care.
They had been going to kill Murdock. If Face hadn’t gotten there in time–. It had been close, just too damn close.
Hannibal was coming tomorrow. With BA. They’d be able to wrap things up, easy. Face had the evidence against the company those goons worked for, just needed Hannibal and BA for the threats. Easy. But for now there was Murdock. Couldn’t take him to a doctor. He didn’t have his connections, out here on the east coast, and it was too, too risky. So it was just the two of them, alone, in the high up hotel room. And Face wasn’t sure what to do.
Murdock had been awake for a while when he’d first brought him up. Not making much sense, that was for sure, but awake at least. Raving, maybe, a little. Not quite focusing. Not quite there. But still, it was less scary than this too-quiet unconsciousness. Face had tried to keep him awake for as long as he could. Hadn’t been able to for very long.
Scary.
Murdock shifted, his hand moved, tightened slightly on Face’s for just a second. Face froze, then his hand went to Murdock’s brow. "Murdock." No movement, no sound. "Murdock, please." His voice strained, desperate.
Murdock’s head turned slowly, towards Face, and his eyes inched open. Glassy. Full of pain. His fever had broken an hour or so ago (and Face’s heart had started beating again, it seemed). But he wasn’t all there. "Face. Thirsty." Face brought a glass of water to his lips. Murdock sipped, then fell back, weak. Face put his hand alongside Murdock’s cheek. His hand was trembling. That was weird. Murdock seemed to pull himself together a little bit, shifted in the bed. Looked at Face. Saw Face. Face pulled back, imagining the stubble that must coat his cheeks, how tired he must look. How tired he felt.
Murdock half-smiled. Managed to bring his hand up, pressed it against Face’s own face. "Facey." Shifted a little, winced. "Think I have a concussion." Got quiet for a second, evaluating. "I hurt. A lot."
Face let out the breath he had been holding. "I know. They hurt you. I was waiting–" A pause, for him to catch his breath, to catch his heart. A sigh. "For you. Waiting for you to wake up." A shudder passed through him. "You scared me."
"Didn’t mean to, Facey." Murdock lay there, coming back to himself. Smiling at the worry Face rarely allowed himself to show.
"I know. Not your fault. Not your fault." Face reached over for the cool cloth in the bowl of water at the bedside, gently pressed it to the harsh bruise standing stark against Murdock’s jaw. Murdock winced. "Sorry, baby, I know."
Face’s hand was still shaking. Dammit, why couldn’t he stop shaking? They’d been through this before, they’d all been through this. Given what they did for a living, the real surprise should have been that it didn’t happen more often. But things had changed. Things were different, and it seemed that there was so much more to lose, now. Still shaking. Numbness would be nice.
Murdock had closed his eyes against the pain, opened them again at Face’s shivering. "I’m okay, baby." His words slurred only a little. "What happened? Where are we?"
"We’re back at the hotel. They–" A breath. "They hurt you. I got you. I brought you back. Hannibal and BA will be here tomorrow." He looked again at Murdock’s bruised face. Dark circles sank Murdock’s eyes into his head. He looked like hell. "I’m sorry."
"Don’t be sorry." A quick smile, eyes cloudy but true. "Not your damn fault." He paused for breath, closed his eyes (god, his ribs hurt), opened them again to meet Face’s own, unshuttered. His voice was feathery. "You don’t believe me. Not your fault."
"I know." Face’s voice soft, unsure. Broken. Again.
"You don’t." Another pause, with a smile in the voice and the face. "Dummy." He lay back, trying to garner the strength to open his eyes again. Held his breath as the slightest of movements sent a sharp pain through his abdomen. ~Everything~ hurt. Dizzy. Spiraling. Stop. He needed to focus. Stay awake. Heard music in the background. Music? "What are you playing there, sweetie?"
"I don’t know." Face was supporting his head in his hands, staring down at Murdock. "Tape from your bag. Marked, um–" He picked up the case from his nightstand. "Boys Don’t Cry." He allowed himself a small smile, but it was all trembly. "Needed something to bring you back. I didn’t know what to do." Music had seemed the right thing to do. Murdock was always trying to get Face to listen to this stuff.
Murdock lay there, listening, a smile on his face. He and his Facey were so alike in some ways, worlds apart in others. That was okay. They were okay. Different was good. He was always trying to get Face to appreciate his taste. Sometimes it even worked.
Now Face smiled at him. Tired. Wrinkles seemed worn right into his face, really. But there was love there. "What are you looking so happy about? You had me worried to death." That last part was said into his hands, ostensibly rubbing his eyes. But Murdock could always see when Face was hiding.
He shifted onto his side a bit, trying to ease the pain. His left side definitely hurt more. Bruised ribs? He winced at the pain the shift caused. Yep, at least bruised, hopefully not broken. Face looked down at him, worried, when he hissed at the pain. But Murdock patted his hand, tried to relax him. "Didn’t mean to worry you, Facey." His voice was slightly breathless from the pain. "But you did right with this music. Anything was going to bring me back, it was this. Made this tape when I was all lost in you." He paused, moon dark eyes almost eating into Face’s soul. Meaning to. "Before you knew."
His voice seemed steadier, now, though his eyes were wandering a bit. Face pressed his hand to Murdock’s forehead, checking again for fever. He was still cool. Face sat and looked at him, worry still strong in him, but feeling better for being able to talk to Murdock, instead of sitting in the stillness of his unconsciousness.
"Darkness in the morning
shadows on the land
certain individuals aren’t sticking to the plan."
It wasn’t all that long ago. They’d wasted a lot of time, dancing around the subject, neither one giving in. Love at first sight. Ridiculous. That didn’t happen. Wasn’t real. Only for fairy tales. And they’d been there right in front of each other the whole time, so how could they have been lost?
"And I’m searching for a heart
Searching everyone
They say love conquers all
You can’t start it like a car
You can’t stop it with a gun."
Murdock had tried to ignore it. Not easy, with every touch from Face making him tremble. And every casual touch from Face seeming very deliberate. Setting him on fire. Tried to ignore it, and couldn’t. It took a long time for him to look at it for what it was. Even longer to realize that there wasn’t much he could do to change it. It felt like true love, and even the smallest child will tell you there’s no use fighting that.
"They tell you love requires a little standing in line
And I’ve been waiting for my lover for a long long time
I’ve been pacing the floor
I’ve been watching the door
And meanwhile I’ll keep searching for a heart."
So he knew first. His heart had known first, actually, and it just took his brain a little longer to catch up. When it did, it just seemed so simple. Well, not simple, no. But very, very real. Simple only in that there were no two ways around it. He was in love.
But there was his Face, who couldn’t see what was right there in front of him. Going through woman after woman, letting them down as gentle as he could, always letting them know that it wasn’t them, it was him. Something he was looking for, something that he couldn’t find. No matter how hard he looked.
"I’ve been searching high and low for you
Trying to track you down
Certain individuals
Have finally come around."
Till he looked at Murdock. It hadn’t been easy, it hadn’t been quick. It was so much, such a change, such a chance. But Murdock had seen him look, finally. Look at him in a certain way, for the very first time. Like he’d been blind. And finally had someone explain to him how eyelids worked. He’d opened his eyes. Murdock had seen what he’d needed to see in that one look. So he could afford to be patient. Let Face find his own way. He sat back. And Face took his damn time with it. Six months before he suited action to look.
But Face was no fool. Who was he to turn away from a heart that matched his own?
"And I’m searching for a heart
Searching everyone
They say love conquers all
You can’t start it like a car
You can’t stop it with a gun."
Murdock watched Face through his hazy brown eyes as the song wove its way around them. Focusing took too much energy, but that was okay. Face looked even more like an angel all hazy like this. He wondered about that. Would an angel like Facey have ever fallen from grace? Nah, not if Hannibal had been his commander. Hell, with Hannibal in charge, they’d have gone through the front door of Hell itself, cleaned it out, and set it up as an alternate home base for the cherubim and seraphim.
Murdock laughed at that image, and started coughing, which lit up pain in every portion of his body. The ribs were the worst though. Face, eyes still so very worried, held him through the coughing fit, pressed a glass of water to his lips with a slightly trembling hand. Murdock swallowed, and calmed, and Face laid him gently back on the pillows, with a pseudo-ferocious look. "What could possibly be funny enough to go through that for?"
Murdock was more light-headed than before the coughing fit, and found reality flitting in and out of shadows. Still, he smiled at Face (palpable worry coming in waves from the other man), and said, "Not funny. Just thinking of how long I waited for you."
Face blanched slightly. His shoulders hunched. "I didn’t know they’d made us. It shouldn’t have happened. I got you hurt."
Murdock shook his head, trying to clear the haze that threatened to overwhelm him. "No, that’s not it." Hard to explain what seemed so clear to him. "Waiting for ~you~. I mean–waiting for your heart. To come get mine. Then we’re together. See?" This wasn’t making any sense at all. His tongue didn’t seem to want to cooperate with his thoughts. And now Face was giving him with that worried look again.
"Wait. Just listen to my man Warren here." Face’s eyes widened and he felt Murdock’s head again for fever. "No." Murdock’s eyes crinkled in a weak grin. "The music. Just listen."
"And I’m searching for a heart
Searching everyone
They say love conquers all
You can’t start it like a car
You can’t stop it with a gun."
Murdock shook his head slightly on the pillow. His eyelids felt so heavy. "You don’t listen to love songs nearly enough, Facey. You can learn a lot from them." His eyes slid shut for a moment, then opened again slowly. "I know you. You took a chance. These things happen." His eyes fell closed, and he left them that way this time. So tired. His words were slurring again. "Like falling in love. Some things, there’s just no stopping."
Face watched him as his breathing evened out. Shadows under his eyes. So dark. Face sat, the snow swirling outside the window, and watched Murdock breathing. Some things, there’s just no stopping. Scary. Love conquers all. He wasn’t sure he liked being conquered. It meant he couldn’t put an end to it, even if Murdock was taken from him. But if the songs were right, then love was worth an endless amount of heartache. And he didn’t have a choice, anyway.
You can’t start it like a car.
You can’t stop it with a gun.
He sat with his head in his hands, the winter’s storm raging outside their window. Just sat and listened to love songs.
Trying to deal with a conquered heart.
~end~