Repost of part three
Hannibal finished drying his hands, tossed the paper towel into the trash. He unlocked the door to the small, one stall bathroom and let Face take his turn. It hadn’t been to long since they had escaped from the prison van, but Hannibal thought that it would be okay to stop in a small out of the way diner. One where the worker had been there for hours and there was no TV's showing the morning news and what had happened at the dock.
He slid into the booth next to Bosco. Murdock had his elbows on the table, head in hands. Face had been working on getting him some painkillers, and Hannibal assumed he was successful by the open packet next to the glass of water. The colonel grasped his own glass to keep his hand to himself. The last six months was testing his resolve.
Leaving the courtroom, they were taken to the same holding room they were in earlier and told to take off their dress uniforms. A pile of clothes was waiting for them. With a resigned sigh, Bosco and Face reached for the orange jumpsuits. Passing one to Hannibal, they all stared at the remaining clothes. Pajama pants, scrub top and a pair of slippers.
“No!” Murdock said, backing away, “I’m not going back to Mexico, I’ll go to prison with you guys.” He sank down onto the little bench. Face slid in next to him, rubbing his back.
“It’ll be okay, HM. You’ll have a little more freedom then we will.” He looked up helplessly as BA stepped up to Murdock’s other side. He squeezed the pilot’s shoulder. Hannibal dropped to his knees and collected Murdock’s hands in his.
“You’re not going to Mexico! I’ll make sure of that. People still own me favors and I’ll use every damn one of them to make sure that you go somewhere decent. I’m not losing you.” Not again, “And Face is right. Our letters and phone calls will be monitored. Yours, less so. Jame-HM, look at me.” He lifted Murdock’s head. Their eyes met, ideas passing between them. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir!” a relived smile on his face as he changed into the hospital wear. Hannibal stood, glanced at the other two.
“I meant that for you as well, I’ll make sure you go somewhere decent.”
“Naw, man, don’t worry about us. We can take care of ourselves. Crazy, though, get him somewhere good!” Face nodded in agreement. The door opened and they were escorted out to separate transports.
Six months later, Hannibal pulled the morgue attendant's coat over his shoulders, slipping out the door. Once he was passed the guards, his first thought was to get to James, but knew that he would need help getting him out. He also knew that Face had managed to get himself into a less secure facility. So even thought Bosco was closer in California, he drove to Florida.
Springing Face, getting Bosco, traveling to Germany, getting the movie, the glasses, it all took an extra week. An extra week that James was not with him.
It wasn’t until they got to the abandoned boathouse that he had a moment to breath. Face and Bosco got to work on the computer and printer set up he needed for the next part of the plan. He took Murdock back to a smaller room and presented him with a box.
“Here you go, Captain.”
“A getting out present!”
“I thought these might be a little more comfortable.” Opening the box, Murdock pulled out a pair of red converse, kaki pants, two shirts, a baseball cap and last, a brown leather jacket. All items of clothing that Hannibal had taken out of his privet storage locker before leaving the States.
“Oh, thanks, Colonel! I’ve always wanted one of these!” Murdock put the jacket down and stripped off his t-shirt. Hannibal’s eyes traveled across that perfect chest before lifting to the rafters and staying there.
“I think...I think I’ve had one of these before?” Murdock said, voice distant. Hannibal glanced down to find his pilot looking in a broken mirror in the back of the room. His hand was trailing down one arm of the worn, supple leather. Murdock turned, looked at Hannibal, who could see the thoughts traveling across Murdock’s eyes. “Maybe in another life, because I coulda sworn that you...” he shook his head, “I need to get off of the crap the gave me. It’s making me hallucinate.”
“Did they treat you right? I tried to find you the best place. I will admit that I couldn’t tell if some of your letters were in code or if you were writing nonsense just in case they were read.”
“It was alright, Colonel. It was better then some places I was in. I never understood why the moved me around so much. If the nonsense letters were from when I first got there, they tried to put me on something stronger. I fought it. They said that it was either that or ECT, I took the ECT. I think it shocked them, but I knew that ECT doesn’t affect me. Did give me strange dreams, though, distorted images and sounds, like I was watching a movie underwater. I kept hearing this gravely voice call me Lieutenant.” He shrugged, “I’m going to go annoy Bosco” he bounced out of the room, leaving Hannibal with a cigar halfway to his mouth and a pounding heart.
The waitress set their order down just as Face slid back into the booth. Murdock had only moved enough for the plate to be set down, but still had his hands clamped to the sides of his head. He let out a slight whine, eyes squeezed tight.
“They not working?” Face asked, had coming out to rub his back. “I can get more, if you want?”
“No, it’s receding, I think it wanted to give one last piercing pound to remind me it was here, before it went away.” He tried to smile reassuringly at the guilt-ridden look that Face wore. He picked up a fry and bit it. The other returned to their meal, discussing what to do now. They were halfway through the meal when Hannibal noticed that Murdock was staring out the window while absentmindedly toying with his fries.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Captain?”
“I’m sorry.” He sighed, not looking away from the window.
“No! I’m sorry!” Face said. “It was my plan, I put you in danger. I should have thought of something else, I’ll go-“ Murdock held a hand up, cutting Face off. He turned, faced forward, eyes still closed.
“I’m sorry.” He said again, finally looking up and meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, John. The last eight years must have been hell for you.” His eyes were clear, the manic glint gone, causing Hannibal to.
“James?” he asked, shakily.
“Yeah,” the pilot said with a derisive laugh. “I feel like such a fucking cartoon!” he leaned back in the booth. “One bonk on the head, there they go. Another one and they come rushing, painfully, back. I really am sorry, I can image the agony you must have been in. Thought, why didn’t you try anything in the mean time? I know I wasn’t right in the head, but...”
“You’ve never been right in the head, Crazy. And do the two of you want to clue us in to what’s going on?” Bosco shared a confused look with Face.
“It wouldn’t have been right. I could never tell how much I was remembering you and how much was affection for him.” James nodded his understanding. In the silence that settled on the table the waitress came over and left the check. Hannibal picked it up, the other three stood outside as Hannibal paid. As he joined them outside, he saw that James was studying him.
“I know it’s been along time, John, if things are different for you now, I’ll understand.”
“It’s not. I’ve told you, once I fall in love, I stay there.” He grasped the back of the pilot’s neck, pulled his James, his Murdock, to him and claimed his lips in a kiss. A kiss full of eight years of yeaning, of standing next to this man and not being able to touch. A kiss full of eleven years of desperation, of wanting his lover back.
Pulling back, gasping air, he leaned his forehead on James’. Eyes shining as he placed a quick, chaste kiss on James’ lips. This one full of promises. Promises for that night as hands found new old scars, found old new spots, as they made love for the first time again.
With a smile and a bounce in his step, he took James’ hand and walked out of the parking lot, ignoring the shocked looks Bosco and Face’s were wearing.
He slid into the booth next to Bosco. Murdock had his elbows on the table, head in hands. Face had been working on getting him some painkillers, and Hannibal assumed he was successful by the open packet next to the glass of water. The colonel grasped his own glass to keep his hand to himself. The last six months was testing his resolve.
Leaving the courtroom, they were taken to the same holding room they were in earlier and told to take off their dress uniforms. A pile of clothes was waiting for them. With a resigned sigh, Bosco and Face reached for the orange jumpsuits. Passing one to Hannibal, they all stared at the remaining clothes. Pajama pants, scrub top and a pair of slippers.
“No!” Murdock said, backing away, “I’m not going back to Mexico, I’ll go to prison with you guys.” He sank down onto the little bench. Face slid in next to him, rubbing his back.
“It’ll be okay, HM. You’ll have a little more freedom then we will.” He looked up helplessly as BA stepped up to Murdock’s other side. He squeezed the pilot’s shoulder. Hannibal dropped to his knees and collected Murdock’s hands in his.
“You’re not going to Mexico! I’ll make sure of that. People still own me favors and I’ll use every damn one of them to make sure that you go somewhere decent. I’m not losing you.” Not again, “And Face is right. Our letters and phone calls will be monitored. Yours, less so. Jame-HM, look at me.” He lifted Murdock’s head. Their eyes met, ideas passing between them. “Understand?”
“Yes, sir!” a relived smile on his face as he changed into the hospital wear. Hannibal stood, glanced at the other two.
“I meant that for you as well, I’ll make sure you go somewhere decent.”
“Naw, man, don’t worry about us. We can take care of ourselves. Crazy, though, get him somewhere good!” Face nodded in agreement. The door opened and they were escorted out to separate transports.
Six months later, Hannibal pulled the morgue attendant's coat over his shoulders, slipping out the door. Once he was passed the guards, his first thought was to get to James, but knew that he would need help getting him out. He also knew that Face had managed to get himself into a less secure facility. So even thought Bosco was closer in California, he drove to Florida.
Springing Face, getting Bosco, traveling to Germany, getting the movie, the glasses, it all took an extra week. An extra week that James was not with him.
It wasn’t until they got to the abandoned boathouse that he had a moment to breath. Face and Bosco got to work on the computer and printer set up he needed for the next part of the plan. He took Murdock back to a smaller room and presented him with a box.
“Here you go, Captain.”
“A getting out present!”
“I thought these might be a little more comfortable.” Opening the box, Murdock pulled out a pair of red converse, kaki pants, two shirts, a baseball cap and last, a brown leather jacket. All items of clothing that Hannibal had taken out of his privet storage locker before leaving the States.
“Oh, thanks, Colonel! I’ve always wanted one of these!” Murdock put the jacket down and stripped off his t-shirt. Hannibal’s eyes traveled across that perfect chest before lifting to the rafters and staying there.
“I think...I think I’ve had one of these before?” Murdock said, voice distant. Hannibal glanced down to find his pilot looking in a broken mirror in the back of the room. His hand was trailing down one arm of the worn, supple leather. Murdock turned, looked at Hannibal, who could see the thoughts traveling across Murdock’s eyes. “Maybe in another life, because I coulda sworn that you...” he shook his head, “I need to get off of the crap the gave me. It’s making me hallucinate.”
“Did they treat you right? I tried to find you the best place. I will admit that I couldn’t tell if some of your letters were in code or if you were writing nonsense just in case they were read.”
“It was alright, Colonel. It was better then some places I was in. I never understood why the moved me around so much. If the nonsense letters were from when I first got there, they tried to put me on something stronger. I fought it. They said that it was either that or ECT, I took the ECT. I think it shocked them, but I knew that ECT doesn’t affect me. Did give me strange dreams, though, distorted images and sounds, like I was watching a movie underwater. I kept hearing this gravely voice call me Lieutenant.” He shrugged, “I’m going to go annoy Bosco” he bounced out of the room, leaving Hannibal with a cigar halfway to his mouth and a pounding heart.
The waitress set their order down just as Face slid back into the booth. Murdock had only moved enough for the plate to be set down, but still had his hands clamped to the sides of his head. He let out a slight whine, eyes squeezed tight.
“They not working?” Face asked, had coming out to rub his back. “I can get more, if you want?”
“No, it’s receding, I think it wanted to give one last piercing pound to remind me it was here, before it went away.” He tried to smile reassuringly at the guilt-ridden look that Face wore. He picked up a fry and bit it. The other returned to their meal, discussing what to do now. They were halfway through the meal when Hannibal noticed that Murdock was staring out the window while absentmindedly toying with his fries.
“Are you sure you’re okay, Captain?”
“I’m sorry.” He sighed, not looking away from the window.
“No! I’m sorry!” Face said. “It was my plan, I put you in danger. I should have thought of something else, I’ll go-“ Murdock held a hand up, cutting Face off. He turned, faced forward, eyes still closed.
“I’m sorry.” He said again, finally looking up and meeting Hannibal’s eyes. “I’m so sorry, John. The last eight years must have been hell for you.” His eyes were clear, the manic glint gone, causing Hannibal to.
“James?” he asked, shakily.
“Yeah,” the pilot said with a derisive laugh. “I feel like such a fucking cartoon!” he leaned back in the booth. “One bonk on the head, there they go. Another one and they come rushing, painfully, back. I really am sorry, I can image the agony you must have been in. Thought, why didn’t you try anything in the mean time? I know I wasn’t right in the head, but...”
“You’ve never been right in the head, Crazy. And do the two of you want to clue us in to what’s going on?” Bosco shared a confused look with Face.
“It wouldn’t have been right. I could never tell how much I was remembering you and how much was affection for him.” James nodded his understanding. In the silence that settled on the table the waitress came over and left the check. Hannibal picked it up, the other three stood outside as Hannibal paid. As he joined them outside, he saw that James was studying him.
“I know it’s been along time, John, if things are different for you now, I’ll understand.”
“It’s not. I’ve told you, once I fall in love, I stay there.” He grasped the back of the pilot’s neck, pulled his James, his Murdock, to him and claimed his lips in a kiss. A kiss full of eight years of yeaning, of standing next to this man and not being able to touch. A kiss full of eleven years of desperation, of wanting his lover back.
Pulling back, gasping air, he leaned his forehead on James’. Eyes shining as he placed a quick, chaste kiss on James’ lips. This one full of promises. Promises for that night as hands found new old scars, found old new spots, as they made love for the first time again.
With a smile and a bounce in his step, he took James’ hand and walked out of the parking lot, ignoring the shocked looks Bosco and Face’s were wearing.