Murdock and Mama B (gen)
Originally written for a prompt at ATeam_Prompts over here http://ateam-prompts.livejournal.com/19117.html?thread=15474605#t15474605
It would be great to read a story about Murdock staying with Mamma B. for a while...maybe to recuperate after getting injured or something. It can start off with the two of them at first....but I don't mind if the other guys join them at some point. I definitely would love some Murdock/Mamma B. alone time though...not in a sexual way, though...Just a Mom/Adopted Son kind of way...just spending time together.
“Are you sure I can’t help, Mama?”
The unexpected voice makes her jump a little, coffee sloshing over the side of her mug and running down onto the kitchen worktop. “No, baby, really. I’m fine. I told you to sit still - you’re supposed to be here resting up, remember?”
She should have known there was no way Murdock would be able to sit quietly in the living room by himself for five minutes while she fetched drinks. Keeping him still at all this week is going to be a struggle, she can tell - thank goodness her boss had been so understanding, letting her take the week off at short notice when she’d got Hannibal’s call.
“No,” he mumbles, a definite pout on his face. “I’m here ‘cos they didn’t trust me to behave while they were away.” Before she replies, she shoos the skinny pilot back through to the living room, watching worriedly as he teeters slightly, catching himself on the door frame.
It’s more than certainly true that Hannibal didn’t quite trust Murdock to look after himself, but she doesn’t think she will help anything by mentioning that now. Instead, she asks, “You’d rather be sat on your own back at Benning?”
“I’d rather have flown for them.” His answer is quick and certain, even as he settles himself carefully back onto the sofa. “I can still fly, Mama.”
“With one arm?” He looks quite pathetic, to be honest, and all her mothering instincts are on full alert. His right arm is encased from shoulder to hand in a thick plaster cast - it was originally white, she thinks, but it has been covered so completely in colourful graffiti that not much of the original colour remains. She thinks she doesn’t really want to look too closely at the words and images scribbled on the plaster, knowing Army men far too well, although she’ll certainly sign her name if there is enough space. “Baby, you can’t fly when your arm is broken in three places.”
“Four, actually. There’s a hairline fracture right here.” He points to somewhere on the back of his hand, sounding almost proud of his shattered bones - trapped beneath a concrete wall, he’d explained briefly - and she just shakes her head, wincing at the very thought.
Back to the point, though. “You can’t fly a plane with one arm, sweetheart,” she tells him with a soft smile, handing him a mug of coffee and moving the plate of biscuits closer. “No matter how good you are.”
“Have done before.” A bit of a sulk there, now, and she doesn’t want that. Bad enough that he’s going to be in that huge cast for six weeks - the last thing she wants is for him to get depressed about being left behind by his team.
“But not when you didn’t have to, though. Right?”
He heaves a sigh before sipping at his coffee. “Yeah, suppose so.”
She’d picked him up at the airport earlier that day, finding him standing in the middle of the arrivals area, struggling with his huge kitbag and his even larger sling. “You’d really rather be back at base than here with me?” she asks, not really worried that might be the case but needing to ask. Out of the other three members of her son’s team, Murdock had adopted her as Mama the quickest, and she knows he loves to visit her. She loves having him to stay as well, bundle of energy that he normally is, though of course this particular visit is under rather different circumstances.
“No.” He sighs again. “Don’t do so good on my own, waitin’. It’s one of those missions anyway, just drop ‘em off and pick ‘em up later. Hate those.”
It’s classified, she’s knows that, so she doesn’t even ask where they’ve gone or what they are doing. The fact that he’s told her as much as he has done is a surprise. Something so important that Murdock’s medical leave hadn’t stood in the way of Hannibal and his two remaining boys going out at short notice. And she knows they wouldn’t have gone unless it was important - they are so close, these four men, family more than just a team. Each of them are so protective over the others that it must be something truly important for them to have left Murdock behind.
The phone call she’d received from Hannibal two days ago had sounded almost desperate, something she’d never heard from the strong colonel before, even when he had called to say her Scooter had been wounded in action. He’d asked if Murdock could come stay with her for a week or so, just while they were gone - he hadn’t quite said that he didn’t trust the pilot to behave, but she could imagine Murdock just ignoring his injury and getting lost in some flight of fancy, making everything worse. Of course she didn’t mind having him to stay, quite the opposite: she loves any chance to fuss over one of her boys, and she doesn’t get any of them to herself as often as she’d like.
The injured pilot’s last words are still ringing in her mind, and she wonders if she should ask. “Why not?”
“Hmm?” Murdock seems distracted, staring deep into his coffee mug.
“Why do you hate ‘drop off and pick up’ jobs? Surely you’re doing all the flying, and I thought that’s what you really love.”
“I hate those missions because I’m not there with them, on the ground. I’m a pilot, yes, but more than that I’m a Ranger, baby!” Setting the mug down on the arm of the sofa, he thumps a fist over his bicep, where she knows his tattoo is concealed beneath layers of plaster. Of course, as soon as he does that, he winces in pain, sucking a harsh breath between his teeth. She captures that free hand, holding it tightly in her own and squeezing gently as he continues. “BA’s the overprotective one, you know that, but I don’t like not bein’ there. If I’m there, I’m involved, I can help. The one time I’m not there might be the one time - ”
“Hush, baby.” He’s getting worked up now, she can see it. She’s always known he was passionate about his job and his team, that much was obvious, but she’s never thought about this side of his work before. She can feel how tightly he is clinging to her hand, can feel the strength hidden in his skinny, wiry body. “Now you know how I feel all the time, waiting for my Scooter to call me. Waiting to know you’re all safe.”
His dark eyes suddenly lock onto hers, and he nods once. She sees recognition there, understanding, and she smiles softly at him. It isn’t easy being the one left behind. He glances over her shoulder to where she knows her clock stands, then that understanding is gone, replaced by a slight frown. “They should be just about at the drop, if it’s all on schedule…”
“Murdock…”
“And they got that idiot Roarke flyin’ for ‘em. He’s far too ‘by the book’ for one of Bossman’s plans, but I suppose he’s pretty safe at least. They probably drugged BA up to get him in the plane in the first place; he’ll hate that, he always does, but this time he can’t blame me.” Murdock’s voice has become very quiet now, his focus starting to drift somewhere internal, but he seems to shake himself, offering her a feeble little smile. “Sorry, Mama. I should be there.” A pause. “Seriously, how do you cope? With all the waitin’?”
She squeezes his hand once more before letting him go, reaching to pour them both more coffee. “You keep busy, keep living,” she tells him softly. “I go to work, see my friends, do some volunteering. Scooter’s my baby boy, and you’re all my boys too, but I can’t spend my life waiting for him. I’d go crazy.”
“They’re all I got,” he whispers, sounding so much like a heartbroken little boy that she longs to wrap him up in blankets and keep him safe from the whole world. Murdock tends to bring that instinct out in her far too much.
“No, they’re not,” she tells him firmly. “You got me, too.”
And finally that smile seems a little more natural, a little more like the familiar manic Murdock she knows and loves so well. His dark brown eyes flash with a spark of that wonderful brand of crazy as he tells her, “Love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, Murdock.” He shifts a little closer, hefting that cast with him, and she lifts one arm, letting him snuggle carefully against her side. He definitely thrives on physical contact, she’s thought that before. Each visit, every time she turns around he is right there, looking for a hug or a little touch on the shoulder. He does it with his team, as well, no real concept of physical space, and it always makes her smile to see how three big, tough men like Hannibal, Face and her Scooter just let the smallest member of their team wrap himself around them at any time. Just one more way in which Hannibal Smith’s alpha unit are completely unique.
The silence grows for a few minutes, but she knows Murdock won’t sit still too long, can tell the very moment he starts to get restless again. “Sorry, Mama,” he says as he pulls himself back up, grabbing a few biscuits and starting to nibble. “I’m not feelin’ sorry for myself, not really. It’s all good, right?”
“Right. And that arm’s going to be fine in a few weeks, right?”
“Yup. Six weeks in a cast and then some physio.” She tries not to wince at the spray of crumbs as Murdock speaks. “Docs said they’re all good clean breaks.” She just nods. She’s never broken a bone in her life, thank goodness, and she doesn’t really understand how any break can be classed as ‘clean’. “And I get some fantastic Mama B home-cookin’ while the guys are out workin’ hard! Life could be worse, right?”
“Right.” He needs reassurance more than anything else she can offer, she knows that, and she can sit there with him all day if he needs her to. But keeping him entertained and safe is going to be a challenge, she realises. “You got me all to yourself this week, baby,” she tells him with one of her warmest smiles. “I’m going to spoil you rotten!”
“Can I help you cook?”
“Of course.” Maybe, a little - she’s had some interesting experience with Murdock’s particular brand of creative cookery in the past, and heard enough horror stories from Face and Scooter to make her cautious. “But not today!”
“And we can take Billy for lots of long walks?” For a moment she draws a complete blank. Billy? “I know he’s gonna love stretching his legs down by the lake. But don’t worry, Mama, he’s housetrained and all that.”
It hits her with a start, and she smiles even wider, laughing a little. His invisible dog, of course - she hadn’t realised he’d come to stay as well, although it makes a lot of sense. “Yes, Murdock. I’ll help you take care of Billy - you’ll have to be careful he doesn’t pull you over when he’s on his lead, with just your one good arm.”
“Nah, he’s a good boy, aren’t you Billy?” Immediately Murdock is off, petting the empty space beside his knees, and she can almost imagine his faithful dog sitting there patiently. “He wouldn’t pull me over.” Bouncing a little in his seat now, he turns back to her, that one good arm waving in the air as his voice grows in volume. “And you can take me to meet your friends, and we could go shoppin’, and I always wanted to learn to knit, and - ”
“Murdock, baby! Calm down!” She hasn’t the heart to tell him she doesn’t have the first clue about knitting, though she can picture the state he’d get in with a ball of wool. “We’ll see what the week brings, okay, but you got to just relax a little.”
“Not much good at that,” he confesses with an impish grin. “Facey always says I got too much energy. That’s why I’m better when I’m flyin’, up in the sky where I’m free.”
“You can’t do much flying until that wing of yours heals up, little bird.” He preens a little at that, and she has to smile at him. “How about we start off with a dvd and some of my carrot cake?” He nods enthusiastically, though she can’t miss the twinge of pain that passes across his face. “You got pills you should take? Painkillers?”
He nods again, starting to get to his feet. “In my bag,” he admits. “I’ll get them.”
“No, you just stay put.” She pats his knee firmly as she climbs out of the sofa, her old knees protesting ever so slightly. “Whereabouts?”
“Front pocket. Thanks, Mama.”
“Sit still,” she tells him firmly as she leaves the room, hurrying upstairs as fast as she can to Scooter’s room. She’d offered Murdock the guest room this visit, thinking he’d be more comfortable given his injuries, but he’d insisted that was Hannibal and Face’s room, saying he’d prefer his usual space. She has managed to convince him to use Scooter’s bed rather than his usual air mattress at least.
She finds his pills tucked safely where he said they would be, alongside what appear to be two sock puppets. Staring at them a long moment, she decides she doesn’t want to ask, quietly slipping them back into the pocket. Nor does she expect Murdock to actually sit still without her by his side - sure enough, he’s standing in the living room doorway when she gets back downstairs, and she swallows down the urge to tell him off.
“Where’s the cake, Mama?” he asks, wide smile on his face despite his pain, and she can only shake her head at her crazy boy as he follows her through to the kitchen. He’s going to be her shadow all week, she can tell, and maybe that’s a good thing. At least she’ll be able to tell what he’s doing at all times, can make sure he sits still when she does.
This is going to be one interesting week, she thinks, bracing herself mentally and laughing out loud. Murdock laughs with her, of course, without even caring about her reasons, and everything will be okay, she knows. Mama always knows.
It would be great to read a story about Murdock staying with Mamma B. for a while...maybe to recuperate after getting injured or something. It can start off with the two of them at first....but I don't mind if the other guys join them at some point. I definitely would love some Murdock/Mamma B. alone time though...not in a sexual way, though...Just a Mom/Adopted Son kind of way...just spending time together.
“Are you sure I can’t help, Mama?”
The unexpected voice makes her jump a little, coffee sloshing over the side of her mug and running down onto the kitchen worktop. “No, baby, really. I’m fine. I told you to sit still - you’re supposed to be here resting up, remember?”
She should have known there was no way Murdock would be able to sit quietly in the living room by himself for five minutes while she fetched drinks. Keeping him still at all this week is going to be a struggle, she can tell - thank goodness her boss had been so understanding, letting her take the week off at short notice when she’d got Hannibal’s call.
“No,” he mumbles, a definite pout on his face. “I’m here ‘cos they didn’t trust me to behave while they were away.” Before she replies, she shoos the skinny pilot back through to the living room, watching worriedly as he teeters slightly, catching himself on the door frame.
It’s more than certainly true that Hannibal didn’t quite trust Murdock to look after himself, but she doesn’t think she will help anything by mentioning that now. Instead, she asks, “You’d rather be sat on your own back at Benning?”
“I’d rather have flown for them.” His answer is quick and certain, even as he settles himself carefully back onto the sofa. “I can still fly, Mama.”
“With one arm?” He looks quite pathetic, to be honest, and all her mothering instincts are on full alert. His right arm is encased from shoulder to hand in a thick plaster cast - it was originally white, she thinks, but it has been covered so completely in colourful graffiti that not much of the original colour remains. She thinks she doesn’t really want to look too closely at the words and images scribbled on the plaster, knowing Army men far too well, although she’ll certainly sign her name if there is enough space. “Baby, you can’t fly when your arm is broken in three places.”
“Four, actually. There’s a hairline fracture right here.” He points to somewhere on the back of his hand, sounding almost proud of his shattered bones - trapped beneath a concrete wall, he’d explained briefly - and she just shakes her head, wincing at the very thought.
Back to the point, though. “You can’t fly a plane with one arm, sweetheart,” she tells him with a soft smile, handing him a mug of coffee and moving the plate of biscuits closer. “No matter how good you are.”
“Have done before.” A bit of a sulk there, now, and she doesn’t want that. Bad enough that he’s going to be in that huge cast for six weeks - the last thing she wants is for him to get depressed about being left behind by his team.
“But not when you didn’t have to, though. Right?”
He heaves a sigh before sipping at his coffee. “Yeah, suppose so.”
She’d picked him up at the airport earlier that day, finding him standing in the middle of the arrivals area, struggling with his huge kitbag and his even larger sling. “You’d really rather be back at base than here with me?” she asks, not really worried that might be the case but needing to ask. Out of the other three members of her son’s team, Murdock had adopted her as Mama the quickest, and she knows he loves to visit her. She loves having him to stay as well, bundle of energy that he normally is, though of course this particular visit is under rather different circumstances.
“No.” He sighs again. “Don’t do so good on my own, waitin’. It’s one of those missions anyway, just drop ‘em off and pick ‘em up later. Hate those.”
It’s classified, she’s knows that, so she doesn’t even ask where they’ve gone or what they are doing. The fact that he’s told her as much as he has done is a surprise. Something so important that Murdock’s medical leave hadn’t stood in the way of Hannibal and his two remaining boys going out at short notice. And she knows they wouldn’t have gone unless it was important - they are so close, these four men, family more than just a team. Each of them are so protective over the others that it must be something truly important for them to have left Murdock behind.
The phone call she’d received from Hannibal two days ago had sounded almost desperate, something she’d never heard from the strong colonel before, even when he had called to say her Scooter had been wounded in action. He’d asked if Murdock could come stay with her for a week or so, just while they were gone - he hadn’t quite said that he didn’t trust the pilot to behave, but she could imagine Murdock just ignoring his injury and getting lost in some flight of fancy, making everything worse. Of course she didn’t mind having him to stay, quite the opposite: she loves any chance to fuss over one of her boys, and she doesn’t get any of them to herself as often as she’d like.
The injured pilot’s last words are still ringing in her mind, and she wonders if she should ask. “Why not?”
“Hmm?” Murdock seems distracted, staring deep into his coffee mug.
“Why do you hate ‘drop off and pick up’ jobs? Surely you’re doing all the flying, and I thought that’s what you really love.”
“I hate those missions because I’m not there with them, on the ground. I’m a pilot, yes, but more than that I’m a Ranger, baby!” Setting the mug down on the arm of the sofa, he thumps a fist over his bicep, where she knows his tattoo is concealed beneath layers of plaster. Of course, as soon as he does that, he winces in pain, sucking a harsh breath between his teeth. She captures that free hand, holding it tightly in her own and squeezing gently as he continues. “BA’s the overprotective one, you know that, but I don’t like not bein’ there. If I’m there, I’m involved, I can help. The one time I’m not there might be the one time - ”
“Hush, baby.” He’s getting worked up now, she can see it. She’s always known he was passionate about his job and his team, that much was obvious, but she’s never thought about this side of his work before. She can feel how tightly he is clinging to her hand, can feel the strength hidden in his skinny, wiry body. “Now you know how I feel all the time, waiting for my Scooter to call me. Waiting to know you’re all safe.”
His dark eyes suddenly lock onto hers, and he nods once. She sees recognition there, understanding, and she smiles softly at him. It isn’t easy being the one left behind. He glances over her shoulder to where she knows her clock stands, then that understanding is gone, replaced by a slight frown. “They should be just about at the drop, if it’s all on schedule…”
“Murdock…”
“And they got that idiot Roarke flyin’ for ‘em. He’s far too ‘by the book’ for one of Bossman’s plans, but I suppose he’s pretty safe at least. They probably drugged BA up to get him in the plane in the first place; he’ll hate that, he always does, but this time he can’t blame me.” Murdock’s voice has become very quiet now, his focus starting to drift somewhere internal, but he seems to shake himself, offering her a feeble little smile. “Sorry, Mama. I should be there.” A pause. “Seriously, how do you cope? With all the waitin’?”
She squeezes his hand once more before letting him go, reaching to pour them both more coffee. “You keep busy, keep living,” she tells him softly. “I go to work, see my friends, do some volunteering. Scooter’s my baby boy, and you’re all my boys too, but I can’t spend my life waiting for him. I’d go crazy.”
“They’re all I got,” he whispers, sounding so much like a heartbroken little boy that she longs to wrap him up in blankets and keep him safe from the whole world. Murdock tends to bring that instinct out in her far too much.
“No, they’re not,” she tells him firmly. “You got me, too.”
And finally that smile seems a little more natural, a little more like the familiar manic Murdock she knows and loves so well. His dark brown eyes flash with a spark of that wonderful brand of crazy as he tells her, “Love you, Mama.”
“I love you too, Murdock.” He shifts a little closer, hefting that cast with him, and she lifts one arm, letting him snuggle carefully against her side. He definitely thrives on physical contact, she’s thought that before. Each visit, every time she turns around he is right there, looking for a hug or a little touch on the shoulder. He does it with his team, as well, no real concept of physical space, and it always makes her smile to see how three big, tough men like Hannibal, Face and her Scooter just let the smallest member of their team wrap himself around them at any time. Just one more way in which Hannibal Smith’s alpha unit are completely unique.
The silence grows for a few minutes, but she knows Murdock won’t sit still too long, can tell the very moment he starts to get restless again. “Sorry, Mama,” he says as he pulls himself back up, grabbing a few biscuits and starting to nibble. “I’m not feelin’ sorry for myself, not really. It’s all good, right?”
“Right. And that arm’s going to be fine in a few weeks, right?”
“Yup. Six weeks in a cast and then some physio.” She tries not to wince at the spray of crumbs as Murdock speaks. “Docs said they’re all good clean breaks.” She just nods. She’s never broken a bone in her life, thank goodness, and she doesn’t really understand how any break can be classed as ‘clean’. “And I get some fantastic Mama B home-cookin’ while the guys are out workin’ hard! Life could be worse, right?”
“Right.” He needs reassurance more than anything else she can offer, she knows that, and she can sit there with him all day if he needs her to. But keeping him entertained and safe is going to be a challenge, she realises. “You got me all to yourself this week, baby,” she tells him with one of her warmest smiles. “I’m going to spoil you rotten!”
“Can I help you cook?”
“Of course.” Maybe, a little - she’s had some interesting experience with Murdock’s particular brand of creative cookery in the past, and heard enough horror stories from Face and Scooter to make her cautious. “But not today!”
“And we can take Billy for lots of long walks?” For a moment she draws a complete blank. Billy? “I know he’s gonna love stretching his legs down by the lake. But don’t worry, Mama, he’s housetrained and all that.”
It hits her with a start, and she smiles even wider, laughing a little. His invisible dog, of course - she hadn’t realised he’d come to stay as well, although it makes a lot of sense. “Yes, Murdock. I’ll help you take care of Billy - you’ll have to be careful he doesn’t pull you over when he’s on his lead, with just your one good arm.”
“Nah, he’s a good boy, aren’t you Billy?” Immediately Murdock is off, petting the empty space beside his knees, and she can almost imagine his faithful dog sitting there patiently. “He wouldn’t pull me over.” Bouncing a little in his seat now, he turns back to her, that one good arm waving in the air as his voice grows in volume. “And you can take me to meet your friends, and we could go shoppin’, and I always wanted to learn to knit, and - ”
“Murdock, baby! Calm down!” She hasn’t the heart to tell him she doesn’t have the first clue about knitting, though she can picture the state he’d get in with a ball of wool. “We’ll see what the week brings, okay, but you got to just relax a little.”
“Not much good at that,” he confesses with an impish grin. “Facey always says I got too much energy. That’s why I’m better when I’m flyin’, up in the sky where I’m free.”
“You can’t do much flying until that wing of yours heals up, little bird.” He preens a little at that, and she has to smile at him. “How about we start off with a dvd and some of my carrot cake?” He nods enthusiastically, though she can’t miss the twinge of pain that passes across his face. “You got pills you should take? Painkillers?”
He nods again, starting to get to his feet. “In my bag,” he admits. “I’ll get them.”
“No, you just stay put.” She pats his knee firmly as she climbs out of the sofa, her old knees protesting ever so slightly. “Whereabouts?”
“Front pocket. Thanks, Mama.”
“Sit still,” she tells him firmly as she leaves the room, hurrying upstairs as fast as she can to Scooter’s room. She’d offered Murdock the guest room this visit, thinking he’d be more comfortable given his injuries, but he’d insisted that was Hannibal and Face’s room, saying he’d prefer his usual space. She has managed to convince him to use Scooter’s bed rather than his usual air mattress at least.
She finds his pills tucked safely where he said they would be, alongside what appear to be two sock puppets. Staring at them a long moment, she decides she doesn’t want to ask, quietly slipping them back into the pocket. Nor does she expect Murdock to actually sit still without her by his side - sure enough, he’s standing in the living room doorway when she gets back downstairs, and she swallows down the urge to tell him off.
“Where’s the cake, Mama?” he asks, wide smile on his face despite his pain, and she can only shake her head at her crazy boy as he follows her through to the kitchen. He’s going to be her shadow all week, she can tell, and maybe that’s a good thing. At least she’ll be able to tell what he’s doing at all times, can make sure he sits still when she does.
This is going to be one interesting week, she thinks, bracing herself mentally and laughing out loud. Murdock laughs with her, of course, without even caring about her reasons, and everything will be okay, she knows. Mama always knows.