Fic Post: Still Breathing
Title: Still Breathing
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: Murphy Brown
Series: Come Rain, Come Shine
Pairing: Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt
Rating: Teen
Timeframe: That nebulous period after Just Like Riding a Bike and the beginning of Season 7
A/N: In Rumble in the Alley, Frank comments about Peter having crawled through the jungle with a broken leg. Well, let’s see what really happened to our HumVee Hunk, shall we?
Disclaimer: I wish I made money from this. But, I don’t. What I do get is friends and a lot of writing practice. Diane English and Bend in the Road Productions are God. I’m just hanging out, playing with her toys.
Summary: “Honestly? They’re hedging because it’s hard to know. Normally in these situations we know if there’s been a kidnapping or violence by now. So, I’m not giving up hope. Once, I was missing for a week because my jeep broke down out of radio range and we had to hike back to camp. Anything can happen out there. But three days is a long time, especially with the technology we have right now.”
The key, Murphy was learning, to keeping herself sane while Peter was on the road was not to expect too much. Letters home were treats, as were calls and emails. And while he somehow managed to check in once a week, she also didn’t worry too much when she didn’t hear from him. The truth was, Peter had a dangerous job and he did what not enough people were willing to do anymore - he went to places where things blew up and where they didn’t have five star hotels and fine dining - and he told the stories of what was really happening there. He did it diligently, he did it honestly, and he looked damn good doing it. If People Magazine wanted to run stories calling them the crowned royals of broadcast journalism, she’d take it.
With Brown holding court behind the anchor desk and Hunt exposing the raw nerve of the violent world order, these two seem poised to create a dynasty.
Okay, so, she’d cut the snipped out of the magazine, along with the photo their tabloid stalker had snapped of the two of them coming out of the Smithsonian benefit a few weeks ago. He had made her feel like a queen that night.
But she wasn’t worried about him. He’d called three days ago when he got to Rio, told her he would be out of range in the jungle, told her he missed her, and they’d chat soon. Other than re-reading her favorite of his more steamy letters, she hadn’t focused too much on his absence.
Still, her gut churned when a familiar voice dragged her out of her morning research.
“Hey, Murphy?”
She glanced up to see Anna Dawkins, Peter’s executive producer with the foreign bureau, standing in her doorway. She’d always liked the other woman - they were of the same generation, had similar attitudes toward the worlds they inhabited. “Hey, Anna!” She waved her in. “What’s up?” The look on Anna’s face told her this really wasn’t a social call and how she closed the door confirmed it. “What’s wrong?” She asked, rising to her feet.
“Peter missed his check in this morning,” Anna said.
Suddenly, she was focused on his absence. Murphy felt the blood drain from her face and sank into her chair. Her breath caught and she checked her watch and then looked up at Anna, “He’s six hours late …”
“Chances are that the equipment just doesn’t reach out that far into the jungle where he was going. We’re waiting to contact his family, but I … well. I know you two and …”
Murphy took another breath. And another one, her eyes zeroing in on the photo she’d added to her desk collection. Avery and Peter at the zoo, Peter helping Avery feed one of the elephants. She’d taken it right before he left again. “Six hours isn’t good, Anna. I mean, it isn’t the end of the world, but this is Peter and he’s pretty reliable.”
“He’s supposed to have a check in at six. So, if he misses that one, we’ll start to worry. But there’s no worrisome activity reported right now. Really, the reason I came up here is that I know you’ve got a good relationship with Tommy over at CPJ and see what his sources have, that would be great.”
She appreciated the handoff. This was something Anna could do, but Anna also knew she needed to keep busy. “Yes. I’ll do it right now.” She looked up at her. “Let me know.”
“I will.”
Anna slipped out and Murphy took a breath. It was one check in. She’d missed check ins over her time. They all did. This was just cautionary. This was just …
It was fine. It had to be. Because this wasn’t on her radar screen for things going wrong. Her money on things crashing and burning was on her getting tired of his travel schedule or him realizing he didn’t want to have to deal with Avery too. Not … this.
She shook her head and kicked herself into gear. Keeping busy was smart. She picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. “Hey, Tommy …” she said as the director of the Committee to Protect Journalists answered the phone. “What do you know about anything that might be going on in Brazil right now?”
Her long-time friend was quiet for a minute and then said, carefully. “Nothing. Why? Who is missing?”
“Peter Hunt,” she said, forcing her nerves down over the knot in her stomach. “”He missed a check in.”
“I’ll call Anna. She’s still his EP, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll … thanks, Murphy.”
She hated how cautious his tone suddenly was. “Tommy …”
“It could be nothing, Murphy. I know you and he are together, so pay I’ll attention to this. But, you know how it goes out there. It could be something as simple as a car accident. But there’s a lot going on in South and Central America right now. All we can do is reach out to our sources.”
“I know. I just …” She let out a breath. She and Tommy had been friends for almost twenty years. In some ways, he knew her better than Frank. They’d nursed each other through almost everything. “Look, there’s a little boy at home who …” Damnit. “Just let me know, okay?”
“I will.” Tommy’s voice was sympathetic. “I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”
“Thanks.”
She took a breath. No one needed to know how worried she was. Especially Avery.
Hours ticked by. One day became three and the morning of the third day, Murphy put on her makeup, pulled her hair into a loose braid, sucked up her courage and stalked into Anna’s office. “I … should probably have his mother’s number.”
“She’s asked a couple of times about you,” Anna said, chuckling. “I don’t know if she actually believes that People piece or not.” She scribbled a number down on a post it and handed it over.
“It’s tabloid drivel,” Murphy said, trying to laugh. “They didn’t even ask for photo permission.”
“To be fair, you two were pretty focused on sucking each other’s faces off. It isn’t like they could stop and ask you. So …” Anna grinned. “It helps to come up for air.”
“Ha. Ha.” She held up the note. “Thank you. Let me know …”
“You’re my first phone call.”
Murphy stopped on her way back to the seventeenth floor, testing the knob on his office door. Locked. She sighed and pressed her fingers to the wood before walking away - the last thing she needed was for his secretary to see her lingering.
It wasn’t like they were in love or anything.
Murphy waited until she was home and Avery in bed to make the call. Her hands were shaking as she dialed the number she’d spent the day memorizing.
“PETER?!” An older female voice came across the line, full of hope and terror.
Murphy held her breath for a long moment before speaking. “Mrs. Hunt, I’m Murphy …” she stopped, realizing she sounded like a reporter wanting a quote. “Mrs. Hunt, this is … the worst way to meet someone. But …”
“You’re Murphy?” Katherine sighed. “You know, I found out about you two in People,” her voice was tight. “He said he was dating someone but not who and I had to … well. Hello.” Murphy stayed silent. She actually appreciated the motherly rant. How would she react if she found out Avery was dating someone through the press? “Do you know anything?” The question jolted her back to reality.
“No,” Murphy admitted. “I wanted to reach out though. I do have every source I have looking for him though.” Silence. It was awkward and weird and she didn’t know how to have this conversation. She’d never had to have it. Not in this capacity. Because she wasn’t looking for a quote. She was hoping to reassure herself and Peter’s family. But she didn’t have any news.
“When did you see him last?” Katherine asked.
“About a week ago. We had breakfast together before he flew into Rio ahead of his story in the jungle.” That was … mostly true. She wasn’t about to tell Peter’s mother that the last time she’d seen him, he was naked and stretched out on the futon in his studio apartment. She’d kissed him goodbye and headed into the office, taking his Bullets t-shirt she was now wearing with her as evidence of her conquest. She lifted the cotton to her face, inhaling his fading scent.
“How was he?”
Murphy blushed, remembering how meeting for breakfast before his flight had become pop tarts in bed because they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. “He was looking forward to the trip, honestly.” Well. It was true. “He called me when he got to Rio, but that was the last time I heard from him.”
Silence again.
“Murphy? Please be honest with me … everyone keeps hedging. Do you think …”
She sighed. “Honesty? They’re hedging because it’s hard to know. Normally in these situations we know if there’s been a kidnapping or violence by now. So, I’m not giving up hope. Once, I was missing for a week because my jeep broke down out of radio range and we had to hike back to camp. Anything can happen out there. But three days is a long time, especially with the technology we have right now.”
A sigh. Tearful. Murphy sympathized. “Thank you,” Katherine whispered. “Thank you.”
“I’ll call tomorrow. And let me give you my number at home and at work if you have any questions.”
On day four, the network and the CPJ became convinced that it wasn’t a kidnapping and so they went live with the story. Investigative reporter Peter Hunt was missing in Brazil while investigating sabotage at plants in the area. FYI covered the news, of course, and Murphy had never been so glad that Frank was, at times, capable of being a professional because even in the meetings, she knew she couldn’t keep a level head.
Full disclosure on this story, Jim intoned before tossing the segment to Frank, our own anchor Murphy Brown and Peter Hunt are involved romantically and some of her sources have been utilized in the reporting.
Yup, that was exactly how she wanted her world to unfold.
Day seven. She talked to Katherine daily. Only for a few minutes, but they checked in.
At least Avery was oblivious. Too young to really process all of it anyway, he just played and when he asked about Peter, it stung but Murphy forced her worries aside and read some of the letters Peter had sent back for him.
Yes, this man sent actual letters to her son and so what if he was showing Jake up a bit, the letters were full of stories about his time overseas and Avery clamored for them when the familiar blue envelopes arrived.
If Peter didn’t come home, would Avery remember him?
***
At some point, Peter had come to realize the delirium from the pain was helping to keep him going. He wasn’t sure when he’d slept last, only that somehow layers and layers of duct tape were holding the camera tripod pieces to his leg in what was simply one of the worst splints ever created, but it was all he and his camera guy, George, had. He’d lost track of days and knew only they were out of food and George was rationing water.
Chances were, really, they were going to die.
God this was stupid. He was stupid. He shouldn’t have been distracted. He shouldn’t have jumped up on that rock. He shouldn’t have …
He was going to die and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do and all he could think about was Murphy and Avery. Fuck.
“Hey,” George handed over a bottle of water. “Take a few sips. We should get going again.”
“I’m slowing you down,” Peter groaned. Everything hurt. “Get back to the jeep and radio in - if it’s still there.”
“And as soon as we’re closer to the site, then yes. I will. But I’m not leaving you here to get eaten by something.” George laughed. “Dude, we’ve been through everything together, but this might be my retirement party.”
Peter wanted to respond, but the haze of pain was washing over him again. He had to focus. Had to separate himself from it all.
Hail Mary … he grunted to himself as he pushed himself back to one foot. Full of Grace. The meditation got him moving. Over and over again, hopping between trees, crawling across clearings, he murmured the words. Hail Mary. In his mind’s eye, he focused on Murphy, her coming down the stairs for the Smithsonian dinner, the teal dress swirling around her, Avery bouncing down with her. His heart had lurched as he’d taken her hand and kissed it, helped her adjust the shawl around her shoulders, waved to Avery and escorted her to the waiting town car.
She smelled of his favorite perfume and her eyes matched the sparkle of her earrings, her lips quirked, as she slipped next to him in the backseat of the car. It had taken every ounce of his control not to slide his hand up her dress, but he remained ever the gentleman, helping her from the car, holding her hand as they walked into the ballroom. Everyone looked when they entered, and he’d lost himself in the romance of the moment. The most beautiful woman in the room was on his arm, and everyone knew it.
Hail, Mary …
The pain was getting worse.
He couldn’t remember the food - dry chicken probably - or the speakers, save for Murphy who took to the podium and delivered her speech about the importance of protecting journalists all over the world and the work the Smithsonian Institution was doing for that and by the end of the night, Peter knew she’d been part of the reason for the checkbooks that emerged from pockets and purses.
That vision in teal and pink, she was his lady, and what a lady she was.
She’d mingled, schmmozed, danced with him when she had a moment, and at the end of the night, as they waited for the towncar, he couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d melted into his arms and they’d forgotten the world around them while the second part of their night began. He hadn’t even been angry at the photo in People. Not even when his mother called, enraged, that he hadn’t told them the truth about the “Girl he was dating.”
Mom, he’d said, would you have believed me?
Hail, Mary.
They stopped to rest against a fallen tree trunk and Peter stared through blurred vision at the treeline. “How close?” He thought he’d asked, but he only pointed. His jeans were smeared with blood. His head spinning.
At least he’d had that last dance with Murphy.
He closed his eyes.
“Come on, Petey,” taunted a voice near him. Her voice. “Come on. Get your ass up and get moving.”
He groaned.
“What is this? Nothing. Serbian snipers, that’s something. Mercenaries who want to smell your hair and bargain for your hand in marriage? Well, that’s something big. It’s a broken leg, Pita Bread. Come on. Is this all you got?”
“You told me to stay down …” he tried to argue with her.
“This time, get your ass up.”
He grunted. Opened his eyes.
He wasn’t done yet.
***
The morning of day nine, she woke to her phone ringing. She lept for it, tripping over blankets in the process. “Peter?” She sobbed into the phone, trying to keep her voice down lest she upset Avery. He still didn’t know something might be wrong.
“Hey, babe.”
Her heart stopped. Okay. So. He was alive. He was able to call her babe - which she only allowed because it was so sexy when he did it. But now that he was alive, she was going to kill him. Absolutely kill him. She was going to sit on him until he couldn’t breathe anymore. And not in the fun way. “What the hell happened? Where have you been?”
“Long story short?”
“Long story long. Where the hell are you?”
“I’m in a hospital in Rio. I’ll be on a plane home tomorrow.”
Her subconscious registered how exhausted he sounded. But she didn’t care. She wanted details. “What. Happened?”
“I broke my leg.”
“What?! All of this worry over a broken leg? Where the hell have you been? It’s been nine days!” Murphy tucked her leg close to her and rested her forehead on her knee. “Nine days, Peter. I was worried …” she choked, slightly. “Are you okay?”
“The break is pretty bad, but yeah, I’m okay. I’ll be in DC soon.” She hated that he was trying to reassure her when she should be doing the reassuring, but she was so worried and she was tired of people worrying about how worried she was. She was tired of Frank trying to be nice when she could tell he wouldn’t hate it if Peter actually disappeared. She was tired of Jim and Corky looking at her like she was a wounded puppy. She was tired of all of it. Except, really, Katherine’s terse daily check ins. Katherine was worried about her son. Murphy could relate - she worried if Avery’s sleep patterns changed.
“Peter …” her voice caught in her throat. “Honey …”
“Uh oh, you broke out the honey. Babe, I’m fine.”
“You broke out the babe … so, I know it’s serious.” She sighed. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Yes.”
“How close to death were you when they dragged your sorry ass out of that jungle?”
He laughed. “You don’t want to know.” A pause. A long one. “But see, this time, when I saw your face. You didn’t tell me to stay down. You told me to keep moving. So I did.”
“This obsession with my face is a thing we need to talk about.” If she spoke softly, maybe he wouldn’t hear her crying.
“Hey.”
Shit.
“I’m okay, babe. I swear. Anna’s got the details of them flying me into DC.”
“I’ll see you at the hospital.”
She sighed and hung up, trying to calm herself. This was crazy. It wasn’t like she and Peter were in love. It wasn’t like they were engaged. It wasn’t like they were committed to anything beyond the moment and the fun they were having. But it was more than that, and they both knew it.
Right now, all she cared about was that he was coming home. That was something she could focus on.
***
The doctor was explaining things. Things he wasn’t sure he understood. What he did understand was Avery curled up in his arms, playing with one of his little stuffed chickens. He understood Murphy standing to the side of the bed, her arms crossed, listening intently to the doctor who was pretending he wasn’t explaining things to her. After all, she was only his girlfriend. Not his partner, not his wife, just his girlfriend of a few months, a girlfriend he already wanted to marry but he wasn’t sure how to address that with her commitment-phobic self, but he did know that he was going to hunt down Jake Lowenstein and Jerry Gold and roast them both over an open pit for putting the fear of anything solid and real into her.
What was the doctor saying?
“In a cast for at least four weeks. We were lucky that even though the initial break was poorly splinted, it was a clean break and we were able to rebreak and set the bone properly without needing pins.”
“Rehab?” Murphy asked. Peter squinted at her.
“Physical therapy, definitely. But he should be up and running pretty quickly.” The doctor was still talking. Peter focused on Avery’s focusing on the toy. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He made his way out and Peter looked over at Murphy, who looked like horses had dragged her for miles through the mud. To the rest of the world, she looked put together as always, but he could see the fear behind her eyes. As she sat in the chair next to his hospital bed, he reached for her hand. “Hey,” he cautioned her. “I’m fine.”
“You will be.” She ran her thumb along his hand. “Your parents are going to be here soon, you know. I’m going to have to meet your mother like this.”
He shook his head, still foggy from surgery. “She’ll be too worried about me to care you’re in the room.”
“Ditto,” Murphy sighed. “And I can’t draw penises on your cast until she leaves, so it’s a real bummer.”
He snickered. “You still can. We’ll cover it with the blanket.” That, finally, brought a smile to her face but she pulled her hand away and walked to the window of the hospital room. Peter watched her, trying to keep his arms around Avery so he wouldn’t climb down. “Murphy?”
She turned and he watched her wipe tears from her cheeks. “I thought …” she looked at Avery, who was suddenly paying attention. “I was worried,” she amended. The tone in her voice let him know he wasn’t off the hook, but they would deal with the harsh realities when a three year old wasn’t trying to understand what was happening. Peter held out his hand and she joined them at the bed again, reaching for Avery, who was starting to wiggle. “Are you glad Peter’s home?” She murmured to him.
“Yes!” He grinned.
Peter laughed. “Well, if Eldin wants some help … I’m going to be laid up for a while.” He handed Avery’s toy over. “You want to hang out with me while my leg gets better?”
“Yes!” Avery giggled.
“We can watch racing,” Peter said. “And build towers out of legos.”
“Guy stuff!” Avery cheered. Murphy rolled her eyes.
“You know, this was what I was afraid of when I had a boy,” she teased.
“Ahhh,” Peter grinned, “are you interested in watching cars go in circles?”
“No.” She smirked. “So, you can do the boring stuff.”
“Mooommmyyyyy!” Avery grinned.
Peter leaned back into the pillows, trying to catch his breath. He was still groggy and just wanted to go home.
“I should get him home …” Murphy said quietly. “Let you rest.” He could hear the caution in her voice, the nerves. She wasn’t used to caretaking - other than Avery. He didn’t want to be left alone when his parents arrived, but he also knew the chaos of Murphy and Avery both being here when that happened was going to be exhausting. His mother wasn’t going to understand Murphy not being here, but she wouldn’t understand how Murphy handled things either. So he nodded.
“Come back?” He asked.
“I’ll see how I can swing it.” She stood up and set Avery down. “Go get your backpack,” she told him. Avery ran over to the chair. Murphy leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Peter reached up and tangled his hand in her hair, holding her close.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
“You …” He didn’t miss the shaking intake of breath as her hand pressed into his chest. “This is why I don’t fall for people,” she said as she pulled back. “When they get hurt …”
“I’m fine,” he reassured her. “Really.”
“I know.” He covered her hand with his. “I’m okay, babe. I promise.”
“I know,” she kissed him again. “I’m going to get Avery home. If Eldin or Corky or someone can stay with Avery, I’ll be back.”
“Okay,” Peter said, knowing she needed her space right now and the last thing he wanted was a tired and stressed out Murphy coming fact to face with his mother. He kissed Avery bye-bye and as the door closed behind them, his eyes closed.
Really, he was exhausted and cranky too.
***
She hadn’t made it back last night. She couldn’t get ahold of Eldin and it was one of those nights when everyone she might call was busy. So she and Avery got the library ready for Peter. They put clean sheets down on the couch, cleaned up all the toys, put a table in there for him to use. Avery demanded they put a teddy bear on the couch for Peter. Once Avery went down, she sat in her favorite chair under the Tiffany lamp, staring out into the backyard. Tea cooled in the mug in her hands, but she ignored it.
She’d almost lost him. Not because of their inability to maintain relationships, but because he’d almost died on assignment. Until now, the distance had just been an annoyance. She’d watched him duck scuds and jump off of tanks to get out of the way, but he was always fine.
Usually.
But there was the Serbian sniper wound. This broken leg. What was next? Was falling for him worth this terror? Yes, he was the best lover she’d ever had. Yes, she felt safer next to him than she’d ever felt in her life. Yes, she loved how he held her hand and kept his arm around her and when they were in bed at night how he didn’t hog all the space. She loved how he cared about Avery, and that he wrote to both of them. They could talk for hours about politics, about journalism, about the intricate details in the Star Wars movies. But was all of that worth the terror she’d felt over the last ten days? Was it worth possibly breaking Avery’s heart the day Peter didn’t come home?
And why was she acting like this wasn’t going to blow up at some point anyway?
Wasn’t it supposed to?
Wasn’t she supposed to be rolling her eyes and gossiping about how good he was in bed but that was all he had going for him? Wasn’t she supposed to be drawing faces on the tabloid photos of his new girlfriend?
Her dark secret was that she didn’t want it to all blow up. She wanted this to work out. But she was absolutely terrified. She had no idea what that meant, or how to process the future. A future where, tomorrow, she was going to meet Peter’s parents. This wasn’t in her cards. She wasn’t this woman, this girlfriend. But Peter was coming home with her as soon as he was discharged. He was going to stay on her couch until he was safe to go home and she hadn’t thought twice about it. She wanted him here.
The last time this had happened, she’d been six months pregnant and she and Jerry had almost killed each other. But this was different. Wasn’t it?
She set the mug of cold tea down and pushed herself out of her chair. She paced back to the library and then to the kitchen, where she put the mug in the sink and made her way to bed. She wasn’t going to sleep, but she could at least lie down and she was thankful when Eldin showed up early. At least she could face Peter’s parents without the kid in tow.
“I’ll bring him by later,” Eldin reassured her.
“Thanks,” she breathed out.
The hospital room door was propped open as she approached and she paused at the doorway, peeking in. Peter was asleep and an older woman was sitting next to the bed, reading. She looked up, furrowed her brow, and then realization dawned. Slowly, she stood and walked over, ushering them out of the room.
“I just don’t want to wake him,” the woman said. “You must be Murphy. I’m Katherine.” She didn’t hold out a hand. Murphy shifted uncomfortably.
“You and Mr. Hunt must be exhausted,” Murphy started. “I can sit with him if you want to go back to the hotel and --”
“My son could have died. I’m not leaving him.”
Murphy swallowed back the urge to scream. She hadn’t been alone yet with Peter and she just wanted to kiss him and put her head on his chest and listen to him hum to himself like he did when he was working. “How is he doing today?”
“The doctors are saying he might get to leave tomorrow but I’m not sure his apartment is the best place for him, so we’re --”
“He’s coming home with me,” Murphy said. “It’s already set up.”
Katherine’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. I just … I didn’t realize you two were … at that stage.”
“My place has more room and he won’t be tripping over boxes of notes to get to the bathroom. Also, my nanny has agreed to help out during the day if he needs it. It’s a broken leg. He won’t be out of commission for very long.” Murphy glanced at the open door. “I’m going to go on in.”
She nodded at Katherine and stepped into the room. The tubes from yesterday were gone, which made her breathe easier. His color was better too. His eyes opened as she came in and he perked up and held out a hand. Murphy took it and laughed as he brought her palm to his lips and kissed her. “You’re feeling better,” she teased.
“Much,” he came back at her with, pulling her closer.
Murphy laughed and leaned against him as best she dared, “Your mom is right outside. And she hates me.”
“So, no flutter thing?” He winked. “I mean, my arms and fingers are working just fine.”
“Yup,” she grinned, “you’re feeling better.”
“Well, the anesthesia has worn off and my leg is set, so I’m okay. Mostly I want to get out of here. You have a nurse’s outfit cause I think that might be fun ...”
She groaned and shoved at his head. “The library is set up. Avery’s busy piling stuffed animals up on the couch for you. Not sure how sexy that is.”
Peter laughed. “That kid …” he shook his head. “He’s something special.”
Pride swelled up in Murphy and she leaned over to kiss Peter’s forehead. “Yeah, well. Look at his mother,” she grinned.
“I completely agree,” Peter teased before wrapping her into a kiss that almost had her down on top of him. Behind them, Katherine cleared her throat. Peter chuckled. “Hey, Ma.” Murphy blushed.
“I’m going to go get a cup of coffee,” Katherine said, her tone tired. “Your father is on his way over …” She met Murphy’s eyes. “Murphy.” She stormed out and Murphy winced. Yep, this was such a great way to meet Peter’s family.
“What did I do?” Murphy asked as she settled in the chair next to Peter. “We were … well … fine is a stretch, but … she didn’t hate me.”
“It’s not you.” He kissed her hand. “My mother doesn’t approve of my time out in the field and she spent a lot of last night lecturing me.”
Murphy stroked his face. “After the past week, I can’t say I blame her.”
Peter caught her hand in his again. “I came back …”
“What …” she shook her head. “No. I’m not …”
“Murphy …”
“What?” She pulled back and blinked away the tears that threatened. “What?” She needed to center herself. “Eldin is bringing Avery by later.”
“Good.” He sighed and linked their fingers. “I just want to get home.”
It wasn’t lost on Murphy how he classified home.
***
Since hobbling in the door, Avery had been his shadow - getting juice and more pillows and books for them to read. He’d even dragged his own blankets and pillows down to the library because “Petwer iddn’t gonna be alone!” It was adorable, mostly, save for the reality that Peter just wanted time to feel Murphy curl up against him. But between Avery hanging on him, his mother’s babysitting, and the reality that he couldn’t move, it just hadn’t happened yet.
It was Wednesday. FYI was busy informing the public, Peter was tired of the cast on his leg, and Avery was asleep next to him. On screen, Murphy was challenging Joe Biden on his comments regarding welfare reform. It was a good interview, but he knew she was distracted, and he felt bad. She’d been distracted since they ended up back here, his foot elevated, Avery playing nursemaid. He was trying to ignore it. Trying to help with what he could - loading the dishwasher, moving laundry from the washer to the dryer, ordering dinner. But Murphy had the scared rabbit look in her eyes when she wasn’t looking at him, and nothing he did seemed to make it better.
He’d crawled through the jungle to get back to her and this might ruin them. Go figure.
He was mostly through the latest issue of Time when she appeared in the doorway to the library, still in her suit from the show. “Hey, Petey,” she smiled softly at him. Avery stirred and sat up too. He scooted off the couch and toddled over for a hug from mommy, who gave it happily. “Hey, buddy. You want to go up to bed?”
“No!” Avery wandered back to the couch and crawled up next to Peter, falling asleep almost immediately. Peter chuckled and adjusted so she could sit down if she wanted.
“I’m going to go change,” Murphy said. “Save my spot.”
Peter signed and nodded, watching as she disappeared out of the room. Fifteen minutes later she was back, makeup removed, hair up, in the green pj’s he liked so much on her. She took a seat not next to him but on the ottoman, staring at the cast on his foot. After a long minute, she picked up the sharpie and started coloring in the sketch of the dick she’d done the night before.
“Murphy?” Peter shifted uncomfortably, double checking Avery before looking back at his girlfriend. “Talk to me.”
“About what?” She grabbed the blue sharpie and started coloring the balls in. He almost laughed.
“What’s going through your mind.”
Silence. She focused her attention on the drawing that was sure to insult his mother. Peter stared at his hands and waited for her to tell him he was going home tomorrow.
“You could have died,” she came back at him, still not looking at him. “You could have died. And we haven’t been together that long in the grand scheme of things, so you’d think I wouldn’t have been obsessing, but all I could think about was your dumb face and how much I was going to miss it showing up in my office and how much I was going to miss your arms around me and how much Avery was going to miss you and I started wondering if he was old enough to remember you if you didn’t come home and then I hated myself for thinking the worst but I’m a journalist and I know how these stories usually turn out. I don’t care how many situations you’ve escaped from, Petey. All it takes is one.” She still wasn’t meeting his eyes or making it possible for him to touch her, so he just held still. “All it takes is one and I had to prepare myself for you not coming home but I couldn’t do that. Every time the phone rang … and then I started thinking about what about the next time? And the next?” Finally she looked up and Peter was impressed by the self control it took for her to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “You report from some of the most dangerous places on the planet. I have to accept that if we’re together, it isn’t about when I’m going to see you again, but if. And see, I have this problem. I don’t want to be a coward and walk away from us … but that little boy … he’s already attached to you. So I can stick this out and see where it goes and hope that our hearts don’t get broken, or I can break up with you and break two hearts right now …”
“Three …” Peter interjected. “You break up with me now, and it’s three hearts.”
The tears fell. “I don’t know how to feel these emotions, Peter.”
He leaned forward, taking her hand. She clung to the sharpie for all she was worth but he pried it away and tugged her, just lightly, so she gave in and joined him on the couch. “I think we just feel them.” She wiped her face before pressing it into his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her. “I promise that I won’t do anything stupid … intentionally.”
That made her chuckle a bit. “I wish I could believe that.”
“You can.” He kissed the top of her head. “You know, being in a cast isn’t all that fun for me either. Especially since it’s starting to itch.”
Murphy groaned and pulled back. “I’m not scratching it for you.”
He grinned and just shook his head. “Nah, it’s good.” Gently, he reached up and stroked her cheek. “I really don’t want this to be the thing that makes us crash and burn …”
“I think we’re too involved for that …” she sighed. “Just … next time … break your leg near a phone. Okay?”
Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Good. Because he wasn’t ready to pack up his stuff. “Okay. I promise.”
Murphy leaned in and kissed him. Peter sighed after they broke for air. “We’ve got a chaperone.”
“Tomorrow, Eldin will get him out of the house,” she teased. “But right now … I think we all need some sleep.”
“Yeah …” he groaned. “I hate to make you sleep down here.”
“Good, because I’m not going to.” She stood up. “You’ve got your buddy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Peter caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Murphy …”
“I know ..” her eyes were twinkling. “Me too.” She leaned down for another kiss. “I’ll see you both in the morning. Do you want the light on?”
“Yeah …” he shrugged. “I’ll probably read.”
“Okay … good night, Peter.”
“Good night, babe.” He grinned. Murphy rolled her eyes and made her way upstairs. Peter waited three minutes before picking up the phone and dialing his executive producer. “Hey, Anna,” he said to her voicemail. “I think … it’s time to make some changes. Let’s talk about what that means on Monday.”
Peter hung up the phone, put his head back, and ran his fingers through Avery’s hair. Yes. It was time to make some changes. There was that new magazine show that was starting up. If he could do anything, he could have a conversation with their producer. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to spend some more time stateside.
Author: vegawriters
Fandom: Murphy Brown
Series: Come Rain, Come Shine
Pairing: Murphy Brown/Peter Hunt
Rating: Teen
Timeframe: That nebulous period after Just Like Riding a Bike and the beginning of Season 7
A/N: In Rumble in the Alley, Frank comments about Peter having crawled through the jungle with a broken leg. Well, let’s see what really happened to our HumVee Hunk, shall we?
Disclaimer: I wish I made money from this. But, I don’t. What I do get is friends and a lot of writing practice. Diane English and Bend in the Road Productions are God. I’m just hanging out, playing with her toys.
Summary: “Honestly? They’re hedging because it’s hard to know. Normally in these situations we know if there’s been a kidnapping or violence by now. So, I’m not giving up hope. Once, I was missing for a week because my jeep broke down out of radio range and we had to hike back to camp. Anything can happen out there. But three days is a long time, especially with the technology we have right now.”
The key, Murphy was learning, to keeping herself sane while Peter was on the road was not to expect too much. Letters home were treats, as were calls and emails. And while he somehow managed to check in once a week, she also didn’t worry too much when she didn’t hear from him. The truth was, Peter had a dangerous job and he did what not enough people were willing to do anymore - he went to places where things blew up and where they didn’t have five star hotels and fine dining - and he told the stories of what was really happening there. He did it diligently, he did it honestly, and he looked damn good doing it. If People Magazine wanted to run stories calling them the crowned royals of broadcast journalism, she’d take it.
With Brown holding court behind the anchor desk and Hunt exposing the raw nerve of the violent world order, these two seem poised to create a dynasty.
Okay, so, she’d cut the snipped out of the magazine, along with the photo their tabloid stalker had snapped of the two of them coming out of the Smithsonian benefit a few weeks ago. He had made her feel like a queen that night.
But she wasn’t worried about him. He’d called three days ago when he got to Rio, told her he would be out of range in the jungle, told her he missed her, and they’d chat soon. Other than re-reading her favorite of his more steamy letters, she hadn’t focused too much on his absence.
Still, her gut churned when a familiar voice dragged her out of her morning research.
“Hey, Murphy?”
She glanced up to see Anna Dawkins, Peter’s executive producer with the foreign bureau, standing in her doorway. She’d always liked the other woman - they were of the same generation, had similar attitudes toward the worlds they inhabited. “Hey, Anna!” She waved her in. “What’s up?” The look on Anna’s face told her this really wasn’t a social call and how she closed the door confirmed it. “What’s wrong?” She asked, rising to her feet.
“Peter missed his check in this morning,” Anna said.
Suddenly, she was focused on his absence. Murphy felt the blood drain from her face and sank into her chair. Her breath caught and she checked her watch and then looked up at Anna, “He’s six hours late …”
“Chances are that the equipment just doesn’t reach out that far into the jungle where he was going. We’re waiting to contact his family, but I … well. I know you two and …”
Murphy took another breath. And another one, her eyes zeroing in on the photo she’d added to her desk collection. Avery and Peter at the zoo, Peter helping Avery feed one of the elephants. She’d taken it right before he left again. “Six hours isn’t good, Anna. I mean, it isn’t the end of the world, but this is Peter and he’s pretty reliable.”
“He’s supposed to have a check in at six. So, if he misses that one, we’ll start to worry. But there’s no worrisome activity reported right now. Really, the reason I came up here is that I know you’ve got a good relationship with Tommy over at CPJ and see what his sources have, that would be great.”
She appreciated the handoff. This was something Anna could do, but Anna also knew she needed to keep busy. “Yes. I’ll do it right now.” She looked up at her. “Let me know.”
“I will.”
Anna slipped out and Murphy took a breath. It was one check in. She’d missed check ins over her time. They all did. This was just cautionary. This was just …
It was fine. It had to be. Because this wasn’t on her radar screen for things going wrong. Her money on things crashing and burning was on her getting tired of his travel schedule or him realizing he didn’t want to have to deal with Avery too. Not … this.
She shook her head and kicked herself into gear. Keeping busy was smart. She picked up the phone and dialed the familiar number. “Hey, Tommy …” she said as the director of the Committee to Protect Journalists answered the phone. “What do you know about anything that might be going on in Brazil right now?”
Her long-time friend was quiet for a minute and then said, carefully. “Nothing. Why? Who is missing?”
“Peter Hunt,” she said, forcing her nerves down over the knot in her stomach. “”He missed a check in.”
“I’ll call Anna. She’s still his EP, right?”
“Yeah.”
“Okay. I’ll … thanks, Murphy.”
She hated how cautious his tone suddenly was. “Tommy …”
“It could be nothing, Murphy. I know you and he are together, so pay I’ll attention to this. But, you know how it goes out there. It could be something as simple as a car accident. But there’s a lot going on in South and Central America right now. All we can do is reach out to our sources.”
“I know. I just …” She let out a breath. She and Tommy had been friends for almost twenty years. In some ways, he knew her better than Frank. They’d nursed each other through almost everything. “Look, there’s a little boy at home who …” Damnit. “Just let me know, okay?”
“I will.” Tommy’s voice was sympathetic. “I’ll call as soon as I know anything.”
“Thanks.”
She took a breath. No one needed to know how worried she was. Especially Avery.
Hours ticked by. One day became three and the morning of the third day, Murphy put on her makeup, pulled her hair into a loose braid, sucked up her courage and stalked into Anna’s office. “I … should probably have his mother’s number.”
“She’s asked a couple of times about you,” Anna said, chuckling. “I don’t know if she actually believes that People piece or not.” She scribbled a number down on a post it and handed it over.
“It’s tabloid drivel,” Murphy said, trying to laugh. “They didn’t even ask for photo permission.”
“To be fair, you two were pretty focused on sucking each other’s faces off. It isn’t like they could stop and ask you. So …” Anna grinned. “It helps to come up for air.”
“Ha. Ha.” She held up the note. “Thank you. Let me know …”
“You’re my first phone call.”
Murphy stopped on her way back to the seventeenth floor, testing the knob on his office door. Locked. She sighed and pressed her fingers to the wood before walking away - the last thing she needed was for his secretary to see her lingering.
It wasn’t like they were in love or anything.
Murphy waited until she was home and Avery in bed to make the call. Her hands were shaking as she dialed the number she’d spent the day memorizing.
“PETER?!” An older female voice came across the line, full of hope and terror.
Murphy held her breath for a long moment before speaking. “Mrs. Hunt, I’m Murphy …” she stopped, realizing she sounded like a reporter wanting a quote. “Mrs. Hunt, this is … the worst way to meet someone. But …”
“You’re Murphy?” Katherine sighed. “You know, I found out about you two in People,” her voice was tight. “He said he was dating someone but not who and I had to … well. Hello.” Murphy stayed silent. She actually appreciated the motherly rant. How would she react if she found out Avery was dating someone through the press? “Do you know anything?” The question jolted her back to reality.
“No,” Murphy admitted. “I wanted to reach out though. I do have every source I have looking for him though.” Silence. It was awkward and weird and she didn’t know how to have this conversation. She’d never had to have it. Not in this capacity. Because she wasn’t looking for a quote. She was hoping to reassure herself and Peter’s family. But she didn’t have any news.
“When did you see him last?” Katherine asked.
“About a week ago. We had breakfast together before he flew into Rio ahead of his story in the jungle.” That was … mostly true. She wasn’t about to tell Peter’s mother that the last time she’d seen him, he was naked and stretched out on the futon in his studio apartment. She’d kissed him goodbye and headed into the office, taking his Bullets t-shirt she was now wearing with her as evidence of her conquest. She lifted the cotton to her face, inhaling his fading scent.
“How was he?”
Murphy blushed, remembering how meeting for breakfast before his flight had become pop tarts in bed because they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. “He was looking forward to the trip, honestly.” Well. It was true. “He called me when he got to Rio, but that was the last time I heard from him.”
Silence again.
“Murphy? Please be honest with me … everyone keeps hedging. Do you think …”
She sighed. “Honesty? They’re hedging because it’s hard to know. Normally in these situations we know if there’s been a kidnapping or violence by now. So, I’m not giving up hope. Once, I was missing for a week because my jeep broke down out of radio range and we had to hike back to camp. Anything can happen out there. But three days is a long time, especially with the technology we have right now.”
A sigh. Tearful. Murphy sympathized. “Thank you,” Katherine whispered. “Thank you.”
“I’ll call tomorrow. And let me give you my number at home and at work if you have any questions.”
On day four, the network and the CPJ became convinced that it wasn’t a kidnapping and so they went live with the story. Investigative reporter Peter Hunt was missing in Brazil while investigating sabotage at plants in the area. FYI covered the news, of course, and Murphy had never been so glad that Frank was, at times, capable of being a professional because even in the meetings, she knew she couldn’t keep a level head.
Full disclosure on this story, Jim intoned before tossing the segment to Frank, our own anchor Murphy Brown and Peter Hunt are involved romantically and some of her sources have been utilized in the reporting.
Yup, that was exactly how she wanted her world to unfold.
Day seven. She talked to Katherine daily. Only for a few minutes, but they checked in.
At least Avery was oblivious. Too young to really process all of it anyway, he just played and when he asked about Peter, it stung but Murphy forced her worries aside and read some of the letters Peter had sent back for him.
Yes, this man sent actual letters to her son and so what if he was showing Jake up a bit, the letters were full of stories about his time overseas and Avery clamored for them when the familiar blue envelopes arrived.
If Peter didn’t come home, would Avery remember him?
***
At some point, Peter had come to realize the delirium from the pain was helping to keep him going. He wasn’t sure when he’d slept last, only that somehow layers and layers of duct tape were holding the camera tripod pieces to his leg in what was simply one of the worst splints ever created, but it was all he and his camera guy, George, had. He’d lost track of days and knew only they were out of food and George was rationing water.
Chances were, really, they were going to die.
God this was stupid. He was stupid. He shouldn’t have been distracted. He shouldn’t have jumped up on that rock. He shouldn’t have …
He was going to die and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do and all he could think about was Murphy and Avery. Fuck.
“Hey,” George handed over a bottle of water. “Take a few sips. We should get going again.”
“I’m slowing you down,” Peter groaned. Everything hurt. “Get back to the jeep and radio in - if it’s still there.”
“And as soon as we’re closer to the site, then yes. I will. But I’m not leaving you here to get eaten by something.” George laughed. “Dude, we’ve been through everything together, but this might be my retirement party.”
Peter wanted to respond, but the haze of pain was washing over him again. He had to focus. Had to separate himself from it all.
Hail Mary … he grunted to himself as he pushed himself back to one foot. Full of Grace. The meditation got him moving. Over and over again, hopping between trees, crawling across clearings, he murmured the words. Hail Mary. In his mind’s eye, he focused on Murphy, her coming down the stairs for the Smithsonian dinner, the teal dress swirling around her, Avery bouncing down with her. His heart had lurched as he’d taken her hand and kissed it, helped her adjust the shawl around her shoulders, waved to Avery and escorted her to the waiting town car.
She smelled of his favorite perfume and her eyes matched the sparkle of her earrings, her lips quirked, as she slipped next to him in the backseat of the car. It had taken every ounce of his control not to slide his hand up her dress, but he remained ever the gentleman, helping her from the car, holding her hand as they walked into the ballroom. Everyone looked when they entered, and he’d lost himself in the romance of the moment. The most beautiful woman in the room was on his arm, and everyone knew it.
Hail, Mary …
The pain was getting worse.
He couldn’t remember the food - dry chicken probably - or the speakers, save for Murphy who took to the podium and delivered her speech about the importance of protecting journalists all over the world and the work the Smithsonian Institution was doing for that and by the end of the night, Peter knew she’d been part of the reason for the checkbooks that emerged from pockets and purses.
That vision in teal and pink, she was his lady, and what a lady she was.
She’d mingled, schmmozed, danced with him when she had a moment, and at the end of the night, as they waited for the towncar, he couldn’t hold back any longer. She’d melted into his arms and they’d forgotten the world around them while the second part of their night began. He hadn’t even been angry at the photo in People. Not even when his mother called, enraged, that he hadn’t told them the truth about the “Girl he was dating.”
Mom, he’d said, would you have believed me?
Hail, Mary.
They stopped to rest against a fallen tree trunk and Peter stared through blurred vision at the treeline. “How close?” He thought he’d asked, but he only pointed. His jeans were smeared with blood. His head spinning.
At least he’d had that last dance with Murphy.
He closed his eyes.
“Come on, Petey,” taunted a voice near him. Her voice. “Come on. Get your ass up and get moving.”
He groaned.
“What is this? Nothing. Serbian snipers, that’s something. Mercenaries who want to smell your hair and bargain for your hand in marriage? Well, that’s something big. It’s a broken leg, Pita Bread. Come on. Is this all you got?”
“You told me to stay down …” he tried to argue with her.
“This time, get your ass up.”
He grunted. Opened his eyes.
He wasn’t done yet.
***
The morning of day nine, she woke to her phone ringing. She lept for it, tripping over blankets in the process. “Peter?” She sobbed into the phone, trying to keep her voice down lest she upset Avery. He still didn’t know something might be wrong.
“Hey, babe.”
Her heart stopped. Okay. So. He was alive. He was able to call her babe - which she only allowed because it was so sexy when he did it. But now that he was alive, she was going to kill him. Absolutely kill him. She was going to sit on him until he couldn’t breathe anymore. And not in the fun way. “What the hell happened? Where have you been?”
“Long story short?”
“Long story long. Where the hell are you?”
“I’m in a hospital in Rio. I’ll be on a plane home tomorrow.”
Her subconscious registered how exhausted he sounded. But she didn’t care. She wanted details. “What. Happened?”
“I broke my leg.”
“What?! All of this worry over a broken leg? Where the hell have you been? It’s been nine days!” Murphy tucked her leg close to her and rested her forehead on her knee. “Nine days, Peter. I was worried …” she choked, slightly. “Are you okay?”
“The break is pretty bad, but yeah, I’m okay. I’ll be in DC soon.” She hated that he was trying to reassure her when she should be doing the reassuring, but she was so worried and she was tired of people worrying about how worried she was. She was tired of Frank trying to be nice when she could tell he wouldn’t hate it if Peter actually disappeared. She was tired of Jim and Corky looking at her like she was a wounded puppy. She was tired of all of it. Except, really, Katherine’s terse daily check ins. Katherine was worried about her son. Murphy could relate - she worried if Avery’s sleep patterns changed.
“Peter …” her voice caught in her throat. “Honey …”
“Uh oh, you broke out the honey. Babe, I’m fine.”
“You broke out the babe … so, I know it’s serious.” She sighed. “Can I ask you a serious question?”
“Yes.”
“How close to death were you when they dragged your sorry ass out of that jungle?”
He laughed. “You don’t want to know.” A pause. A long one. “But see, this time, when I saw your face. You didn’t tell me to stay down. You told me to keep moving. So I did.”
“This obsession with my face is a thing we need to talk about.” If she spoke softly, maybe he wouldn’t hear her crying.
“Hey.”
Shit.
“I’m okay, babe. I swear. Anna’s got the details of them flying me into DC.”
“I’ll see you at the hospital.”
She sighed and hung up, trying to calm herself. This was crazy. It wasn’t like she and Peter were in love. It wasn’t like they were engaged. It wasn’t like they were committed to anything beyond the moment and the fun they were having. But it was more than that, and they both knew it.
Right now, all she cared about was that he was coming home. That was something she could focus on.
***
The doctor was explaining things. Things he wasn’t sure he understood. What he did understand was Avery curled up in his arms, playing with one of his little stuffed chickens. He understood Murphy standing to the side of the bed, her arms crossed, listening intently to the doctor who was pretending he wasn’t explaining things to her. After all, she was only his girlfriend. Not his partner, not his wife, just his girlfriend of a few months, a girlfriend he already wanted to marry but he wasn’t sure how to address that with her commitment-phobic self, but he did know that he was going to hunt down Jake Lowenstein and Jerry Gold and roast them both over an open pit for putting the fear of anything solid and real into her.
What was the doctor saying?
“In a cast for at least four weeks. We were lucky that even though the initial break was poorly splinted, it was a clean break and we were able to rebreak and set the bone properly without needing pins.”
“Rehab?” Murphy asked. Peter squinted at her.
“Physical therapy, definitely. But he should be up and running pretty quickly.” The doctor was still talking. Peter focused on Avery’s focusing on the toy. “I’ll be back to check on you in a few hours.”
“Thank you, Doctor.”
He made his way out and Peter looked over at Murphy, who looked like horses had dragged her for miles through the mud. To the rest of the world, she looked put together as always, but he could see the fear behind her eyes. As she sat in the chair next to his hospital bed, he reached for her hand. “Hey,” he cautioned her. “I’m fine.”
“You will be.” She ran her thumb along his hand. “Your parents are going to be here soon, you know. I’m going to have to meet your mother like this.”
He shook his head, still foggy from surgery. “She’ll be too worried about me to care you’re in the room.”
“Ditto,” Murphy sighed. “And I can’t draw penises on your cast until she leaves, so it’s a real bummer.”
He snickered. “You still can. We’ll cover it with the blanket.” That, finally, brought a smile to her face but she pulled her hand away and walked to the window of the hospital room. Peter watched her, trying to keep his arms around Avery so he wouldn’t climb down. “Murphy?”
She turned and he watched her wipe tears from her cheeks. “I thought …” she looked at Avery, who was suddenly paying attention. “I was worried,” she amended. The tone in her voice let him know he wasn’t off the hook, but they would deal with the harsh realities when a three year old wasn’t trying to understand what was happening. Peter held out his hand and she joined them at the bed again, reaching for Avery, who was starting to wiggle. “Are you glad Peter’s home?” She murmured to him.
“Yes!” He grinned.
Peter laughed. “Well, if Eldin wants some help … I’m going to be laid up for a while.” He handed Avery’s toy over. “You want to hang out with me while my leg gets better?”
“Yes!” Avery giggled.
“We can watch racing,” Peter said. “And build towers out of legos.”
“Guy stuff!” Avery cheered. Murphy rolled her eyes.
“You know, this was what I was afraid of when I had a boy,” she teased.
“Ahhh,” Peter grinned, “are you interested in watching cars go in circles?”
“No.” She smirked. “So, you can do the boring stuff.”
“Mooommmyyyyy!” Avery grinned.
Peter leaned back into the pillows, trying to catch his breath. He was still groggy and just wanted to go home.
“I should get him home …” Murphy said quietly. “Let you rest.” He could hear the caution in her voice, the nerves. She wasn’t used to caretaking - other than Avery. He didn’t want to be left alone when his parents arrived, but he also knew the chaos of Murphy and Avery both being here when that happened was going to be exhausting. His mother wasn’t going to understand Murphy not being here, but she wouldn’t understand how Murphy handled things either. So he nodded.
“Come back?” He asked.
“I’ll see how I can swing it.” She stood up and set Avery down. “Go get your backpack,” she told him. Avery ran over to the chair. Murphy leaned over and pressed a kiss to his forehead. Peter reached up and tangled his hand in her hair, holding her close.
“I missed you so much,” he murmured. “I’m sorry I worried you.”
“You …” He didn’t miss the shaking intake of breath as her hand pressed into his chest. “This is why I don’t fall for people,” she said as she pulled back. “When they get hurt …”
“I’m fine,” he reassured her. “Really.”
“I know.” He covered her hand with his. “I’m okay, babe. I promise.”
“I know,” she kissed him again. “I’m going to get Avery home. If Eldin or Corky or someone can stay with Avery, I’ll be back.”
“Okay,” Peter said, knowing she needed her space right now and the last thing he wanted was a tired and stressed out Murphy coming fact to face with his mother. He kissed Avery bye-bye and as the door closed behind them, his eyes closed.
Really, he was exhausted and cranky too.
***
She hadn’t made it back last night. She couldn’t get ahold of Eldin and it was one of those nights when everyone she might call was busy. So she and Avery got the library ready for Peter. They put clean sheets down on the couch, cleaned up all the toys, put a table in there for him to use. Avery demanded they put a teddy bear on the couch for Peter. Once Avery went down, she sat in her favorite chair under the Tiffany lamp, staring out into the backyard. Tea cooled in the mug in her hands, but she ignored it.
She’d almost lost him. Not because of their inability to maintain relationships, but because he’d almost died on assignment. Until now, the distance had just been an annoyance. She’d watched him duck scuds and jump off of tanks to get out of the way, but he was always fine.
Usually.
But there was the Serbian sniper wound. This broken leg. What was next? Was falling for him worth this terror? Yes, he was the best lover she’d ever had. Yes, she felt safer next to him than she’d ever felt in her life. Yes, she loved how he held her hand and kept his arm around her and when they were in bed at night how he didn’t hog all the space. She loved how he cared about Avery, and that he wrote to both of them. They could talk for hours about politics, about journalism, about the intricate details in the Star Wars movies. But was all of that worth the terror she’d felt over the last ten days? Was it worth possibly breaking Avery’s heart the day Peter didn’t come home?
And why was she acting like this wasn’t going to blow up at some point anyway?
Wasn’t it supposed to?
Wasn’t she supposed to be rolling her eyes and gossiping about how good he was in bed but that was all he had going for him? Wasn’t she supposed to be drawing faces on the tabloid photos of his new girlfriend?
Her dark secret was that she didn’t want it to all blow up. She wanted this to work out. But she was absolutely terrified. She had no idea what that meant, or how to process the future. A future where, tomorrow, she was going to meet Peter’s parents. This wasn’t in her cards. She wasn’t this woman, this girlfriend. But Peter was coming home with her as soon as he was discharged. He was going to stay on her couch until he was safe to go home and she hadn’t thought twice about it. She wanted him here.
The last time this had happened, she’d been six months pregnant and she and Jerry had almost killed each other. But this was different. Wasn’t it?
She set the mug of cold tea down and pushed herself out of her chair. She paced back to the library and then to the kitchen, where she put the mug in the sink and made her way to bed. She wasn’t going to sleep, but she could at least lie down and she was thankful when Eldin showed up early. At least she could face Peter’s parents without the kid in tow.
“I’ll bring him by later,” Eldin reassured her.
“Thanks,” she breathed out.
The hospital room door was propped open as she approached and she paused at the doorway, peeking in. Peter was asleep and an older woman was sitting next to the bed, reading. She looked up, furrowed her brow, and then realization dawned. Slowly, she stood and walked over, ushering them out of the room.
“I just don’t want to wake him,” the woman said. “You must be Murphy. I’m Katherine.” She didn’t hold out a hand. Murphy shifted uncomfortably.
“You and Mr. Hunt must be exhausted,” Murphy started. “I can sit with him if you want to go back to the hotel and --”
“My son could have died. I’m not leaving him.”
Murphy swallowed back the urge to scream. She hadn’t been alone yet with Peter and she just wanted to kiss him and put her head on his chest and listen to him hum to himself like he did when he was working. “How is he doing today?”
“The doctors are saying he might get to leave tomorrow but I’m not sure his apartment is the best place for him, so we’re --”
“He’s coming home with me,” Murphy said. “It’s already set up.”
Katherine’s eyes widened slightly. “Oh. I just … I didn’t realize you two were … at that stage.”
“My place has more room and he won’t be tripping over boxes of notes to get to the bathroom. Also, my nanny has agreed to help out during the day if he needs it. It’s a broken leg. He won’t be out of commission for very long.” Murphy glanced at the open door. “I’m going to go on in.”
She nodded at Katherine and stepped into the room. The tubes from yesterday were gone, which made her breathe easier. His color was better too. His eyes opened as she came in and he perked up and held out a hand. Murphy took it and laughed as he brought her palm to his lips and kissed her. “You’re feeling better,” she teased.
“Much,” he came back at her with, pulling her closer.
Murphy laughed and leaned against him as best she dared, “Your mom is right outside. And she hates me.”
“So, no flutter thing?” He winked. “I mean, my arms and fingers are working just fine.”
“Yup,” she grinned, “you’re feeling better.”
“Well, the anesthesia has worn off and my leg is set, so I’m okay. Mostly I want to get out of here. You have a nurse’s outfit cause I think that might be fun ...”
She groaned and shoved at his head. “The library is set up. Avery’s busy piling stuffed animals up on the couch for you. Not sure how sexy that is.”
Peter laughed. “That kid …” he shook his head. “He’s something special.”
Pride swelled up in Murphy and she leaned over to kiss Peter’s forehead. “Yeah, well. Look at his mother,” she grinned.
“I completely agree,” Peter teased before wrapping her into a kiss that almost had her down on top of him. Behind them, Katherine cleared her throat. Peter chuckled. “Hey, Ma.” Murphy blushed.
“I’m going to go get a cup of coffee,” Katherine said, her tone tired. “Your father is on his way over …” She met Murphy’s eyes. “Murphy.” She stormed out and Murphy winced. Yep, this was such a great way to meet Peter’s family.
“What did I do?” Murphy asked as she settled in the chair next to Peter. “We were … well … fine is a stretch, but … she didn’t hate me.”
“It’s not you.” He kissed her hand. “My mother doesn’t approve of my time out in the field and she spent a lot of last night lecturing me.”
Murphy stroked his face. “After the past week, I can’t say I blame her.”
Peter caught her hand in his again. “I came back …”
“What …” she shook her head. “No. I’m not …”
“Murphy …”
“What?” She pulled back and blinked away the tears that threatened. “What?” She needed to center herself. “Eldin is bringing Avery by later.”
“Good.” He sighed and linked their fingers. “I just want to get home.”
It wasn’t lost on Murphy how he classified home.
***
Since hobbling in the door, Avery had been his shadow - getting juice and more pillows and books for them to read. He’d even dragged his own blankets and pillows down to the library because “Petwer iddn’t gonna be alone!” It was adorable, mostly, save for the reality that Peter just wanted time to feel Murphy curl up against him. But between Avery hanging on him, his mother’s babysitting, and the reality that he couldn’t move, it just hadn’t happened yet.
It was Wednesday. FYI was busy informing the public, Peter was tired of the cast on his leg, and Avery was asleep next to him. On screen, Murphy was challenging Joe Biden on his comments regarding welfare reform. It was a good interview, but he knew she was distracted, and he felt bad. She’d been distracted since they ended up back here, his foot elevated, Avery playing nursemaid. He was trying to ignore it. Trying to help with what he could - loading the dishwasher, moving laundry from the washer to the dryer, ordering dinner. But Murphy had the scared rabbit look in her eyes when she wasn’t looking at him, and nothing he did seemed to make it better.
He’d crawled through the jungle to get back to her and this might ruin them. Go figure.
He was mostly through the latest issue of Time when she appeared in the doorway to the library, still in her suit from the show. “Hey, Petey,” she smiled softly at him. Avery stirred and sat up too. He scooted off the couch and toddled over for a hug from mommy, who gave it happily. “Hey, buddy. You want to go up to bed?”
“No!” Avery wandered back to the couch and crawled up next to Peter, falling asleep almost immediately. Peter chuckled and adjusted so she could sit down if she wanted.
“I’m going to go change,” Murphy said. “Save my spot.”
Peter signed and nodded, watching as she disappeared out of the room. Fifteen minutes later she was back, makeup removed, hair up, in the green pj’s he liked so much on her. She took a seat not next to him but on the ottoman, staring at the cast on his foot. After a long minute, she picked up the sharpie and started coloring in the sketch of the dick she’d done the night before.
“Murphy?” Peter shifted uncomfortably, double checking Avery before looking back at his girlfriend. “Talk to me.”
“About what?” She grabbed the blue sharpie and started coloring the balls in. He almost laughed.
“What’s going through your mind.”
Silence. She focused her attention on the drawing that was sure to insult his mother. Peter stared at his hands and waited for her to tell him he was going home tomorrow.
“You could have died,” she came back at him, still not looking at him. “You could have died. And we haven’t been together that long in the grand scheme of things, so you’d think I wouldn’t have been obsessing, but all I could think about was your dumb face and how much I was going to miss it showing up in my office and how much I was going to miss your arms around me and how much Avery was going to miss you and I started wondering if he was old enough to remember you if you didn’t come home and then I hated myself for thinking the worst but I’m a journalist and I know how these stories usually turn out. I don’t care how many situations you’ve escaped from, Petey. All it takes is one.” She still wasn’t meeting his eyes or making it possible for him to touch her, so he just held still. “All it takes is one and I had to prepare myself for you not coming home but I couldn’t do that. Every time the phone rang … and then I started thinking about what about the next time? And the next?” Finally she looked up and Peter was impressed by the self control it took for her to keep the tears in her eyes from falling. “You report from some of the most dangerous places on the planet. I have to accept that if we’re together, it isn’t about when I’m going to see you again, but if. And see, I have this problem. I don’t want to be a coward and walk away from us … but that little boy … he’s already attached to you. So I can stick this out and see where it goes and hope that our hearts don’t get broken, or I can break up with you and break two hearts right now …”
“Three …” Peter interjected. “You break up with me now, and it’s three hearts.”
The tears fell. “I don’t know how to feel these emotions, Peter.”
He leaned forward, taking her hand. She clung to the sharpie for all she was worth but he pried it away and tugged her, just lightly, so she gave in and joined him on the couch. “I think we just feel them.” She wiped her face before pressing it into his shoulder. He wrapped his arm around her. “I promise that I won’t do anything stupid … intentionally.”
That made her chuckle a bit. “I wish I could believe that.”
“You can.” He kissed the top of her head. “You know, being in a cast isn’t all that fun for me either. Especially since it’s starting to itch.”
Murphy groaned and pulled back. “I’m not scratching it for you.”
He grinned and just shook his head. “Nah, it’s good.” Gently, he reached up and stroked her cheek. “I really don’t want this to be the thing that makes us crash and burn …”
“I think we’re too involved for that …” she sighed. “Just … next time … break your leg near a phone. Okay?”
Peter let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. Good. Because he wasn’t ready to pack up his stuff. “Okay. I promise.”
Murphy leaned in and kissed him. Peter sighed after they broke for air. “We’ve got a chaperone.”
“Tomorrow, Eldin will get him out of the house,” she teased. “But right now … I think we all need some sleep.”
“Yeah …” he groaned. “I hate to make you sleep down here.”
“Good, because I’m not going to.” She stood up. “You’ve got your buddy. I’ll see you in the morning.”
Peter caught her hand and brought it to his lips. “Murphy …”
“I know ..” her eyes were twinkling. “Me too.” She leaned down for another kiss. “I’ll see you both in the morning. Do you want the light on?”
“Yeah …” he shrugged. “I’ll probably read.”
“Okay … good night, Peter.”
“Good night, babe.” He grinned. Murphy rolled her eyes and made her way upstairs. Peter waited three minutes before picking up the phone and dialing his executive producer. “Hey, Anna,” he said to her voicemail. “I think … it’s time to make some changes. Let’s talk about what that means on Monday.”
Peter hung up the phone, put his head back, and ran his fingers through Avery’s hair. Yes. It was time to make some changes. There was that new magazine show that was starting up. If he could do anything, he could have a conversation with their producer. Maybe, just maybe, it was time to spend some more time stateside.