Atonement - alternate ending (H/F)
Hannibal moved quickly but methodically, packing everything he could possibly need, aware the entire time of the pair of blue eyes watching his every move.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” he said over his shoulder to the man standing in the corner of the room. “We’re all going as quickly as we can.”
Face said nothing in reply, folding his arms across his chest in an impatient gesture Hannibal had seen a thousand times before. One eyebrow quirked upwards as those bright blue eyes flashed in what could easily have been either anger or amusement.
Hannibal swallowed hard, gathering up the last few bits and, giving up trying to fold anything even remotely neatly, crammed it all into his already overflowing kitbag. “Don’t look at me like that,” he begged Face. “We hardly even know where to start. But we’re trying.”
Face was still wearing his dusty combats and boots, his black t-shirt torn and bloody, but he smiled across the room at Hannibal, a tinge of sadness creeping into his eyes.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Hannibal whispered once more, and Face just nodded.
* * *
“Hannibal?” Murdock sounded worried, perhaps understandably, but Hannibal didn’t glance up from the laptop as he continued to search through website after website. “Boss? It’s nearly three in the morning. You’ve got to get some sleep.”
“Not yet,” Hannibal muttered, clicking on a promising looking link. “I think I’m finally getting somewhere.”
“You have to get some rest. It’ll all be easier in the morning, when you’ve got a fresh pair of eyeballs.”
Hannibal just snorted, a not-quite-laugh. “It’s already morning,” he pointed out, painfully aware of not one but two pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head.
“You didn’t sleep last night either,” Murdock retorted boldly, and Hannibal did spin round in his chair at that comment, startled to find the pilot standing close behind him.
“How can I possibly sleep?” he growled, and Murdock actually cringed back a half-step, though Face just smiled sadly from his position leaning back against the wall. “We have to keep going. We have to find the rest of this gang, one way or another. They’re our only link.”
Murdock visibly steeled himself and took a deep breath before tentatively reaching out one hand to rest on Hannibal’s shoulder. “But you’re only human,” he whispered and, on the far side of the room, Hannibal saw Face nod his agreement.
He hesitated, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over him as the room blurred slightly before his eyes. Maybe Murdock had a point after all. “Another half hour,” he said eventually, directing his answer towards his lieutenant rather than his captain. “Thirty more minutes, then I’ll try to rest for a while.”
Murdock glanced briefly over his own shoulder before facing Hannibal squarely, his eyes a little too bright. “Okay, boss. Okay.”
* * *
“What’s the plan then, Hannibal?” Behind the wheel of the van, BA cracked his knuckles and flexed his biceps briefly before reaching down for the gun concealed in the door. “We’re goin’ in the front door, right? Same as last time?”
“Right.” Hannibal checked his own gun for what felt like the hundredth time that day, spotting Murdock in the back seat doing the same thing from the corner of his eye.
“All guns blazing?” the pilot asked, grit and determination clear in his voice, and Hannibal nodded firmly, steeling himself for what might lie ahead of them all.
“They know we’re coming,” he reminded his team, stowing an extra pack of bullets in the pocket of his cargo pants, and briefly glancing up to meet Face’s watchful gaze in the rear view mirror. “They’re expecting us. I don’t see any point in subtlety at this point.”
BA cracked his knuckles again with a menacing growl. “Subtlety’s overrated,” he agreed darkly, and Hannibal saw Face nod once in the reflection, his bright blue eyes locked on Hannibal’s the whole time.
Hannibal swallowed down the wave of emotion that swept over him as he stared into his lover’s eyes, forcing himself into the cold and military mind-set he would need the moment they stepped inside the ruins of the warehouse.
“Everyone ready?” he asked, perhaps needlessly as both Murdock and BA had already fallen still and silent in anticipation of finally getting going, and Face was grinning a wicked, manic grin. “Okay then. Let’s do this.”
* * *
Hannibal crept down the basement corridor, gun in hand and all senses on edge. In the flickering lights he could barely make out Face’s silhouette moving stealthily ahead of him, could barely hear BA and Murdock’s footsteps close behind.
In the rooms above, a dozen men lay dead or dying. The team had spared no mercy. The gang deserved none.
A few metres ahead, Face stopped outside a heavily padlocked door, catching Hannibal’s gaze with a nod. “He’s here,” Hannibal breathed, tightening his grip on the gun and knowing that his men would hear him through their linked earpieces. “BA, keep watch. Murdock, with me.”
It was the work of barely a minute to have the locks forced and the door open. The stench of human waste and infected wounds hit them immediately, and Hannibal swallowed hard even as he stepped inside, terrified of what he might find within. Against the far wall he could just make out a figure lying on their side, naked and filthy, chained to the pipes.
For an endless second Hannibal couldn’t move. Could barely breathe, memories sweeping over him in a wave. Other basements. Other still figures. A month of desperate searching, of failing time and time again.
Face stood off to the side, watching and waiting, unblinking.
“Boss,” Murdock whispered, clutching hold of Hannibal’s elbow tightly. “Is it…?”
Spurred into action, Hannibal took two steps, then reached down to roll the young man carefully onto his back, his filthy caramel curls and too-pale skin now visible in the flickering lights. He pressed shaking fingers to a dirt-encrusted neck, then heaved a sigh of relief, trying to keep a tight rein on his emotions for just a little longer.
“He’s alive. Let’s get these chains off and get him the hell out of here.” The figure in the corner of Hannibal’s eye suddenly flickered and disappeared, as Hannibal whispered, “I’m here, Face.”
* * *
Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed, watching Face sleep the peaceful and healing sleep of the heavily medicated.
“That’s the last of them.” Hannibal kept his voice to little more than a breath, needing desperately to talk yet knowing Face needed to rest. “Every single gang member, all dead or in jail. Every other young man they’d taken and tortured, back with their loved ones and recovering.”
Face stirred slightly, his head moving a little on the soft pillows, though he didn’t wake. His physical wounds would heal soon enough, though of course Hannibal knew the mental wounds would take far longer.
“Vengeance, or as close as we can ever get. It’s not enough,” Hannibal whispered with a shake of his head. “I’m so sorry. It’ll never be enough, I know it won’t, but it’s all we can do.”
His eyes blurred with tears he refused to let fall. Face was alive and back with them at last.
“I wish we’d found you sooner, Face. I wish that with all of my heart. But no amount of vengeance can ever make up for what you went through…” Hannibal took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “I love you, kid. I always will.”
To Hannibal’s surprise Face suddenly blinked his eyes open, his hazy blue gaze immediately finding Hannibal’s. He smiled brightly, if weakly, those blue eyes shining with his own love for Hannibal, and forgiveness. And Hannibal knew everything would be fine.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” he said over his shoulder to the man standing in the corner of the room. “We’re all going as quickly as we can.”
Face said nothing in reply, folding his arms across his chest in an impatient gesture Hannibal had seen a thousand times before. One eyebrow quirked upwards as those bright blue eyes flashed in what could easily have been either anger or amusement.
Hannibal swallowed hard, gathering up the last few bits and, giving up trying to fold anything even remotely neatly, crammed it all into his already overflowing kitbag. “Don’t look at me like that,” he begged Face. “We hardly even know where to start. But we’re trying.”
Face was still wearing his dusty combats and boots, his black t-shirt torn and bloody, but he smiled across the room at Hannibal, a tinge of sadness creeping into his eyes.
“I’m going as fast as I can,” Hannibal whispered once more, and Face just nodded.
* * *
“Hannibal?” Murdock sounded worried, perhaps understandably, but Hannibal didn’t glance up from the laptop as he continued to search through website after website. “Boss? It’s nearly three in the morning. You’ve got to get some sleep.”
“Not yet,” Hannibal muttered, clicking on a promising looking link. “I think I’m finally getting somewhere.”
“You have to get some rest. It’ll all be easier in the morning, when you’ve got a fresh pair of eyeballs.”
Hannibal just snorted, a not-quite-laugh. “It’s already morning,” he pointed out, painfully aware of not one but two pairs of eyes boring into the back of his head.
“You didn’t sleep last night either,” Murdock retorted boldly, and Hannibal did spin round in his chair at that comment, startled to find the pilot standing close behind him.
“How can I possibly sleep?” he growled, and Murdock actually cringed back a half-step, though Face just smiled sadly from his position leaning back against the wall. “We have to keep going. We have to find the rest of this gang, one way or another. They’re our only link.”
Murdock visibly steeled himself and took a deep breath before tentatively reaching out one hand to rest on Hannibal’s shoulder. “But you’re only human,” he whispered and, on the far side of the room, Hannibal saw Face nod his agreement.
He hesitated, feeling a sudden wave of exhaustion wash over him as the room blurred slightly before his eyes. Maybe Murdock had a point after all. “Another half hour,” he said eventually, directing his answer towards his lieutenant rather than his captain. “Thirty more minutes, then I’ll try to rest for a while.”
Murdock glanced briefly over his own shoulder before facing Hannibal squarely, his eyes a little too bright. “Okay, boss. Okay.”
* * *
“What’s the plan then, Hannibal?” Behind the wheel of the van, BA cracked his knuckles and flexed his biceps briefly before reaching down for the gun concealed in the door. “We’re goin’ in the front door, right? Same as last time?”
“Right.” Hannibal checked his own gun for what felt like the hundredth time that day, spotting Murdock in the back seat doing the same thing from the corner of his eye.
“All guns blazing?” the pilot asked, grit and determination clear in his voice, and Hannibal nodded firmly, steeling himself for what might lie ahead of them all.
“They know we’re coming,” he reminded his team, stowing an extra pack of bullets in the pocket of his cargo pants, and briefly glancing up to meet Face’s watchful gaze in the rear view mirror. “They’re expecting us. I don’t see any point in subtlety at this point.”
BA cracked his knuckles again with a menacing growl. “Subtlety’s overrated,” he agreed darkly, and Hannibal saw Face nod once in the reflection, his bright blue eyes locked on Hannibal’s the whole time.
Hannibal swallowed down the wave of emotion that swept over him as he stared into his lover’s eyes, forcing himself into the cold and military mind-set he would need the moment they stepped inside the ruins of the warehouse.
“Everyone ready?” he asked, perhaps needlessly as both Murdock and BA had already fallen still and silent in anticipation of finally getting going, and Face was grinning a wicked, manic grin. “Okay then. Let’s do this.”
* * *
Hannibal crept down the basement corridor, gun in hand and all senses on edge. In the flickering lights he could barely make out Face’s silhouette moving stealthily ahead of him, could barely hear BA and Murdock’s footsteps close behind.
In the rooms above, a dozen men lay dead or dying. The team had spared no mercy. The gang deserved none.
A few metres ahead, Face stopped outside a heavily padlocked door, catching Hannibal’s gaze with a nod. “He’s here,” Hannibal breathed, tightening his grip on the gun and knowing that his men would hear him through their linked earpieces. “BA, keep watch. Murdock, with me.”
It was the work of barely a minute to have the locks forced and the door open. The stench of human waste and infected wounds hit them immediately, and Hannibal swallowed hard even as he stepped inside, terrified of what he might find within. Against the far wall he could just make out a figure lying on their side, naked and filthy, chained to the pipes.
For an endless second Hannibal couldn’t move. Could barely breathe, memories sweeping over him in a wave. Other basements. Other still figures. A month of desperate searching, of failing time and time again.
Face stood off to the side, watching and waiting, unblinking.
“Boss,” Murdock whispered, clutching hold of Hannibal’s elbow tightly. “Is it…?”
Spurred into action, Hannibal took two steps, then reached down to roll the young man carefully onto his back, his filthy caramel curls and too-pale skin now visible in the flickering lights. He pressed shaking fingers to a dirt-encrusted neck, then heaved a sigh of relief, trying to keep a tight rein on his emotions for just a little longer.
“He’s alive. Let’s get these chains off and get him the hell out of here.” The figure in the corner of Hannibal’s eye suddenly flickered and disappeared, as Hannibal whispered, “I’m here, Face.”
* * *
Hannibal sat on the edge of the bed, watching Face sleep the peaceful and healing sleep of the heavily medicated.
“That’s the last of them.” Hannibal kept his voice to little more than a breath, needing desperately to talk yet knowing Face needed to rest. “Every single gang member, all dead or in jail. Every other young man they’d taken and tortured, back with their loved ones and recovering.”
Face stirred slightly, his head moving a little on the soft pillows, though he didn’t wake. His physical wounds would heal soon enough, though of course Hannibal knew the mental wounds would take far longer.
“Vengeance, or as close as we can ever get. It’s not enough,” Hannibal whispered with a shake of his head. “I’m so sorry. It’ll never be enough, I know it won’t, but it’s all we can do.”
His eyes blurred with tears he refused to let fall. Face was alive and back with them at last.
“I wish we’d found you sooner, Face. I wish that with all of my heart. But no amount of vengeance can ever make up for what you went through…” Hannibal took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. “I love you, kid. I always will.”
To Hannibal’s surprise Face suddenly blinked his eyes open, his hazy blue gaze immediately finding Hannibal’s. He smiled brightly, if weakly, those blue eyes shining with his own love for Hannibal, and forgiveness. And Hannibal knew everything would be fine.