Murdock was lying on his bunk, boots off, eyes closed. Although there was no radio in the team room, he was singing softly. Face didn't recognize the song, and he didn't much care. He sighed as he stepped into the room, dripping wet from the torrential rains that were flooding the camp. His boots were covered in mud past his ankles, and he stopped at the door to take them off.
His eyes lingered almost involuntarily on Murdock, whose hands were now miming a drum solo, now pin-wheeling in air guitar. He was lost in his own little world. Maybe it was the best place for him right now. Face sure as hell didn't feel like talking to him at the moment. He didn't feel like talking to anybody. For the first time in a long time... he just wanted to be alone.
As he tossed the boots aside, they bounced loudly off of the plywood wall. The singing stopped abruptly and Murdock opened one bleary eye. "Oh, hey there, amigo!" God damn, he sounded happy. "What're ya doin' back so early?"
"Early?" Face repeated dryly. "It's almost midnight." He walked to his locker, stripping his shirt along the way. It dripped a long trail of rainwater behind him.
"Yeah, but I figured you'd have someplace other to be, Faceman."
Face sighed deeply, dropped the sopping wet shirt on the cement floor, and grabbed a towel. "Sorry to disappoint you," he answered flatly, not at all amused. "But I have nowhere to be right now."
"Hey, how can I be disappointed that you're here, buddy?" An over-energetic puppy – that's what he reminded Face of. "I like your company. I want your company. S'all good."
Face didn't look at Murdock as he ruffled the towel through his hair and dried his chest and arms. When he didn't get an answer, Murdock continued. "So how come you aren't with Cruiser? He was looking for you earlier; why didn't you go with him?" He levered himself up on elbow, watching Face change clothes. "You seem kinda down. Something bugging you?"
"No." The answer was firm, cold. He put his back to Murdock as he draped the towel over his shoulders, further invitation to leave him the hell alone. He didn't suspect it would achieve the desired effect.
"Geez. Now see... I wonder why I'd think something was bugging you? You're like something crawled up your ass and died there."
Face rolled his eyes. That man had too damn much energy. Too much to say.
"Food gettin' to your guts? Rain gettin' you down? Somethin'." Murdock shrugged and rolled to his back again. "Yer all tense. You need a massage; should have gone to the city."
Face was approaching exasperation. "Murdock..." He let it hang as he grabbed a dry pair of pants and switched them for his dripping wet ones.
"I'd offer to help you relax, but you'd never say yes to that, would you?"
Finally, Face turned and looked directly at the pilot. "Leave it alone," he ordered. His eyes were serious and dark, the look pointed. "I've got enough problems right now without trying to play best buddies." Especially with you…
"Now, see, that right there. It's when you have a whole passel o' problems that you need to 'play best buddies'. A problem shared is a problem two people have an' all that."
Ignoring him, Face swept the wet clothes off the floor and headed toward the door to wring them out.
Murdock didn't let up. "You keep everything all screwed up inside an' you'll just get constipated. An' who knows maybe I'll have an answer to some of those problems that have you lookin' like you lost a dollar and found a quarter. Hrmmm?" Face glanced back as Murdock sat up, crossed his legs Indian style, and patted the foot of the bed. "Take a load off. Your feet and your mind, buddy."
Face stared at him, unmoving, unamused. Was he serious? Yes, of course he was serious. It was Murdock. Face sighed, shook his head, and walked back to the lockers to hang the wet clothes on the open door. "No thanks. I like to keep my problems my own." He could hear the tone in his voice creeping closer and closer towards anger. Murdock was pushing, and somehow or another, that man had the ability to push him right to the edge.
"Hey now, don't be like that." Puppy. Whimpering, pathetic puppy with big brown eyes. Face felt his grip tighten on the locker. "Okay, we don't hafta talk about your problems. Just siddown an' keep a guy company can't you? Might cheer you up. I've even got some –"
Face slammed the locker door so hard it rattled the entire wall of them. "Murdock!" The sound combined sound of metal on metal and Face's yell was nearly deafening in the stillness of the room.
Murdock was staring at him, eyes wide, finally silenced.
"Enough," he warned, glaring dangerously at the pilot. He was fully ready to tell him to mind his own fucking business in no uncertain terms. But the look on Murdock's face made him stop, and he looked away again with a deep sigh, hanging his head and looking for words. None came. Damn it…
"Face?" Murdock stood, his tone now filled with concern. Face turned his back to him. "Hey, buddy, what's eatin' you? Please?"
He put a hand on Face's bare shoulder, but Face pulled away roughly. He wanted to leave. But where the hell was he supposed to go? Even if he had somewhere to be, it was fucking pouring outside and he'd just gotten dry.
"Come on," Murdock tried again as Face walked the few steps to his bunk and sat down on the edge of it. "Try something new. Like sharing those burdens for a change. Can't be that bad I ain't heard or seen worse."
Face searched for his cigarettes before realizing they'd been in the pocket of his now very wet pants. "Shit..." He glanced up briefly at Murdock. "You got a cigarette?"
"Yeah, sure." Murdock pulled the packet and lighter out of his shirt pocket, shaking it so that a couple poked from the foil. He moved closer to Face and held out the packet at arm's length. "Way you're acting I'd offer the mellow stuff if I had some."
Face took one of the cigarettes and lit it. "That's the last thing I need, Murdock." Hell, that shit was so prevalent everywhere he went, he could get it in five minutes or less if he wanted it. He didn't.
"Uh huh." Murdock hesitated, unsure. "Can I sit down?"
Face sighed. He didn't want Murdock to sit down. And he didn't want to talk, and he didn't much feel like being friendly. But he had a feeling he knew exactly how this would end up. Murdock wasn't going anywhere. Telling him to mind his own damn business would only hurt him and thus make the problem worse by giving him more to talk about. Taking a deep drag off the cigarette, Face gestured offhandedly for him to sit.
Murdock plopped down on the foot of the bed, drawing up his knees with his socked feet on the blanket. He kicked Face's leg softly with one foot and Face glared at him. He smiled back, and grabbed a cigarette for himself from the pack.
"You gonna talk now?" he asked. "Tell me what's on your mind?"
"Are you honestly expecting me to?"
"It's worth trying." Face cast a sideways glance at him, noticing the way his hands shook, fingers twitching as he fumbled with the lighter. It took him three tries to get a flame. Face frowned, inconspicuously checking Murdock's eyes for pupil dilation. He didn't actually think Murdock was high - if he was using, he would've had to get it from somewhere and Face probably would've heard about it. But it was natural and instinctive to check for the signs. Finally, he lit his cigarette and tipped his head back to blow a cloud of smoke into the air.
Murdock wasn't high. He was just in his own little world, fingers drumming a silent tune on one knee, his feet echoing the rhythm. Even as he watched Face, his eyes were somewhere far away. "I told you, Face. You're my buddy, pal, amigo. I hate seeing you all knotted up like macramé. I wanna help. Wanna –" He cut off that thought and suddenly his smile fell as if he'd remembered something unpleasant. He lowered his head, finishing quietly. "I wanna be good for something other than flying choppers."
Face laughed loudly, and bit back the vicious comment that came to mind about Murdock's worth as a pilot. He'd just crashed a fucking chopper into the river, walked away from the wreckage, and all he could offer was an offhanded "oops". Face's jaw clenched, holding all such references back as he suddenly realized just how pissed he was. He hadn't really thought about it before now, but it was a valid emotion. He had every right to be pissed. While he was busy trying to cover Murdock's ass, the pilot's biggest problem was his lacking friendships and emotional connections.
"Yeah, I know," Murdock said dryly. "Fucking pathetic."
He stood up and headed for his own bunk, body language suddenly shut down, shoulders hunched. He walked like an old man, socked feet shuffling on the concrete floor. Face didn't move, but watched him go with narrowed eyes that could almost be considered a glare.
"Do you even have any idea what you did today?" he challenged. "You're going to lose your wings, Murdock."
Murdock paused, and turned to stare at him blankly, as if he didn't understand. "Huh?"
"And now you've got Hannibal in a position where he doesn't know if he can trust you to fly, even if there was something he could do about it." Face heard his voice rising in intensity with every word. "How the fucking hell am I supposed to fix this? Since you seem to think that's exactly what I'm going to do."
Murdock blinked, frowned, then blinked again and rubbed his eyes like a man waking up. "What did I do?"
Face felt the anger explode inside of him. What did he do? Was he fucking kidding? He stood up, his voice rising to a yell. "You crashed a fucking chopper, Murdock! Over a goddamn prank!"
Murdock jerked, as if Face had just slapped him. As the words registered, he giggled. "I really did that, didn't I? Huh."
Face stared at him, jaw dropped, stunned. Laughing? He was laughing? "Are you out of your goddamn mind?"
Murdock sank to his bed and put his head in his hands, chuckling until, with a gurgle, the sound seemed closer to a sob. "Sorry. I... I guess I just..." He looked up. His expression was that of a kid who'd just been told that his home run hit had smashed a window. "It's gonna be bad trouble?"
Face stared at him for a moment more, dumbfounded, then turned away. Fighting an uncontrollable urge to hit something, he paced to the window and stared outside for a long moment.
"I… Face, I'm sorry, I…"
"No," Face finally answered, his voice dripping sarcasm. "No, of course not bad trouble, Murdock. Hell, it's no big deal really. I mean, you could've killed us all and the Army wants to nail your ass to the wall for property destruction and Captain Jeffries wants mine for taking that chopper off this base and leaving it in pieces in the river. But what the hell, I'll take care of it." He echoed Murdock's words from earlier with a vicious sarcasm. "I'll just smile at them. Make it all go away."
Murdock stared. It took several moments for him to find words. "That's... It's..."
"It's what, Murdock?" Face challenged angrily, spinning back to glare at him.
Murdock rubbed the heel of his hand into his eye socket like he had a migraine and took a shaky breath. He made several more attempts at a sentence before he found one that actually worked. "Okay, look, it's my problem."
"You're damn right it is."
Murdock took a slow, deep breath, closed his eyes, and shook his head. "I'll go to Jeffries in the morning. Hell, I'm the senior officer; it was my call, my responsibility, nothing to do with you."
Face glared daggers. "Except that I put my credibility on the line to get us that damn chopper."
Murdock fumbled with the cigarette, trying to raise it to his lips, and dropped it in the process. He knocked it off his lap and onto the concrete floor. Then he sat staring at his shaking hands as if he'd only just noticed them, as if they didn't belong to him. "I... We all got out okay, right? And the looks on their faces…" He smiled involuntarily.
"Murdock!"
The smile fell instantly. "I'm sorry," Murdock said quickly, glancing at Face only briefly before looking down again.
"What the hell is the matter with you?"
"I'm sorry. I…" He shut his eyes, shook his head, and sighed deeply.
Face stared at him, stunned. "You really don't get it do you?" How could he not understand what a big deal this was?
"Shit, I don't know, Face. It's all like… like a rollercoaster ride. Like I'm dreaming, or high, or… I don't know." He shuddered, and hugged himself as if he was cold, tucking his legs up.
Face didn't even know what to say anymore. A part of him was angry, even furious. But not only was Murdock not rising to the fight, he seemed genuinely confused. "What the hell were you thinking, Murdock?" Face demanded, his voice still low and angry.
"What the hell was I thinking?" Murdock repeated, raising his own voice for the first time. "I was thinking 'Whoo hoo, let's buzz those guys!' I was thinking 'What can I make this baby do?' I sure as hell wasn't thinking that I was dreaming but this time I was awake."
Face glared, feeling his fists tighten. "You know, I damn well should let you burn for this."
"So do it," Murdock said quietly, eyes lowered. "Maybe I don't belong here. Maybe I shouldn't... Maybe I need a nice safe room." That strange, sobbing chuckle again. "One with padded walls."
"Well, at least you're starting to understand how fuckin' serious it is," Face shot back.
Murdock sighed, closed his eyes, and shook his head slowly. Face watched him with diminishing anger, waiting for an explanation but knowing that if he got one, it wouldn't be sufficient.
After a long moment, Murdock took a deep, slow breath, shuffling his foot on the floor. "You know those nightmares we all fucking have that are so... real?" he whispered, glancing up briefly. "So... Those dreams you have where you wake up and it was so real you think maybe you're remembering something that happened yesterday and not a dream at all?"
He paused for a long moment, studying Face. Careful not to respond, Face just stared back, waiting.
"I have that," Murdock continued softly. "All the time, I have that. Since the camp. And then I wake up and the dream was real and I'm asleep now."
Face sighed deeply, looked back out the window, and took another deep drag off his cigarette. Leave it to Murdock to mention that goddamn camp. Face wondered if he even knew that it was his high card.
"Hannibal wants to know if you're safe to fly," Face said flatly, redirecting the conversation. "I want to know the same damn thing. Because what I saw today? What I'm hearing from you now? I'll be honest, I don't have a whole hell of a lot of confidence in your judgment. But I've never questioned your ability to fly before now." He turned back and glared directly at Murdock. "So put your fear and your guilt and whatever the hell else it is that you're feeling on the shelf and you tell me straight." He paused for a long moment, waiting for the words to sink in. "What is it you want me to tell Hannibal?"
"Whatever you like."
Face growled. "No, you're going to have to give me more than that."
"What do you want me to say, Face? I trashed an expensive piece of equipment today."
"Is it going to happen again?"
Murdock shook his head, over and over again as he stared down at the floor. "No. I don't know."
"Which is it?"
"I don't know, okay?" Murdock snapped with a brief glare. "I just don't know. I can make the bird dance, but that doesn't mean I'm safe." He paused briefly. "What the hell is safe, anyways? Out here? Nothing's ever safe."
"So that's a yes or a no?"
Murdock paused, and Face saw his eyes flicker anger. "Fine. No. I'm not safe. I'm fucking crazy, okay?"
Face's expression remained unreadable. Impassive. Did he mean that? Or was he just saying the first thing that came to mind? Face couldn't tell.
Murdock looked away quickly. "You know, Hannibal said this was better than sitting in a room making things go quiet with cheap whiskey until I was drowning in the stuff." His gaze rose again to Face, eyes dead serious and agonized. "But no, I'm not right. And you know that. You've known that all along."
"All along, it didn't mean you were gonna get us killed."
Murdock shook his head. "Look, I don't know what you want from me, Face. I'm..." He sighed deeply as he turned away again. When he spoke again, his voice was weak. "I'm due to crash and burn, Facey. They might as well court martial me now and be done with it."
Face sighed finished the rest of his cigarette, and put it out on the windowsill before taking the two steps to the trash and dropping it. He went back to the window. "They're not going to court martial you. Hannibal might ground you, but he doesn't want you kicked out."
"Maybe they should kick me out. I crashed a chopper with my best friend in it and thought it was funny. Hell, I still fucking do if you want me to be honest."
Face shut his eyes, jaw clenching at those words for a number of reasons.
"It was a joke. A roller coaster ride. I fucked you over. That... they should have a rule against that."
"Hey, if a court martial is really what you want, trust me, I can arrange it. It'd be a hell of a lot easier."
"I do trust you. I don't trust me. You don't trust me. Hannibal doesn't trust me. So do it." The words came on a sad little sigh. "You know, every night it feels like it gets worse. I get crazier. Every nightmare. To where I can't even tell when I'm awake and when I'm asleep anymore. I don't think all of me came out of that black hole. Or maybe something came back out of it with me."
"Murdock, stop." If there was anything Face didn't want to talk about, the experience of being in a POW camp was it.
He paused for a long moment, and swallowed hard. "I asked... I wanted you to trust me. Hoped you might, one day. I... Looks to me like I destroyed more than a bird today. An' maybe... I couldn't live with myself if you were hurt through me. Not just... Jeffries... the chopper... the..."
Face rolled his eyes. "Good God, Murdock, come off of it. This isn't some melodramatic ending to a sappy movie about love and war." He glared briefly at the pilot. "Hannibal wants to know what the hell we're up against. If you're gonna get us killed, we need to know about that. So stop the fucking dramatics and just talk straight."
Murdock was up and in his face in three long-legged strides. "Fucking dramatics? Fucking dramatics?" His voice was low and deep and menacing. "I can show you fucking dramatics, Lieutenant!"
Face was startled by the advancement, and even more startled by the sudden fist coming at him. He didn't even block, or duck. By the time he even realized what was happening, it was too late to stop it from connecting with his jaw. Eyes wide and startled - but registering the threat - Face moved before he'd even thought about what he was doing. But his actions were curbed by the echo of Hannibal's warning in his ears the last time he and Murdock had had it out.
Grabbing Murdock's arm, he turned and shoved him face first into the wall, using his full weight to hold him there as he put his arm across the back of his neck. "What the hell is wrong with you!" he cried loudly, still startled.
High, hysterical laughter bubbled out of the other man. "I just been tellin' you that. You weren't listening. Should listen better, Facey. Half a conversation is listening…"
Gripping his shoulder, Face spun him and pushed him back again, flat against the wall. One hand grabbed his dominant arm just in case he got the urge to start swinging again. He kept the other arm across his throat, but didn't press hard enough to cut off his air. Nose to nose, only inches apart, Face stared at him with mixed emotions.
"You wanna start something with me? You wanna take this outside, Captain?" He used the same contempt-filled tone to address Murdock by his rank that Murdock had used on him. "I'll lay your ass out and we can both go down in flames."
Murdock swallowed hard. Face could feel it against his arm, here Murdock's adam's apple bobbed up and down. "Maybe you should, Face." His voice was quiet and choked. "Maybe that's what we need. Set the record straight once and for all."
Face glared. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Murdock shut his eyes and set his jaw, hissing through his teeth. "My whole goddamn life, it always comes to this." As his eyes opened again and locked on Face, there was fire there. "I never know what I did, what I am that makes everything so fucking worthless. So fine, okay? Fine. You win. I give up. Get rid of me. It'd be so much easier on you."
Face's eyes remained narrowed, but the anger was drained from them. "Murdock, that's not –"
"What!" Murdock yelled, cutting him off. "Not what? Not fucking dramatic enough for you?"
Murdock shoved him, hard. Instinct made Face push back, pinning him hard against the wall again. "Stop," Face warned.
"You want me to go down in flames, Face, I'll make it real easy on you."
"That's not what I said."
"But it's what you meant."
"I know how to speak my mind, Murdock. I was talking about me."
Murdock shook his head. "You don't gotta do that, Face."
"Do what?"
"You don't gotta go down with me. You just turn and walk outta here and I'll take care of the rest. Just give me five minutes."
Face's eyes widened in shock. "What is that, a threat?" Murdock turned his head away. Face stared at him, jaw dropped, stunned. "One minute you're laughing about crashing a chopper into the river and the next you're threatening suicide? What the fuck is wrong with –"
He cut off suddenly as he realized that crashing a chopper and threatening suicide were not two entirely different concepts. Face took a slight step back, still stunned and confused. "Was that what that was about?"
Murdock shook his head, eyes still down. "No."
"No because it wasn't or no because it didn't work out that way?"
Murdock looked up again, eyes locked firmly on Face. "Trust me, if that had been my intention, we wouldn't be standing here having this conversation."
Face stared at him. Finally, voice low, he whispered. "You need help." It wasn't an insult, or a threat. It was more of a painful realization, and a genuine fear for Murdock's sake.
"Why?" Murdock sneered at him. "Too many fucking dramatics for you?"
Face felt as if he'd just been struck, and he set his jaw against the attack. "Murdock, I had no idea that –"
"That what!" Murdock yelled. "That I'm losin' it? I just crashed a fucking chopper and thought it was funny! Yeah, Face, I'm losin' it!"
"That's not the same as –"
"Well, it's just about as fucking dramatic as I can get, so if that's not enough I don't –"
"Oh, will you stop!" Face's temper flared, tired of hearing his own words turned back on him. "I'm sorry, okay?"
"Well you should be!" Murdock yelled back at him. "Or then again, maybe you shouldn't. Hell, the only time you ever mean anything you say is when you're angry. At least you were honest!"
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"
"You know, most people are the other way around. They say things they don't mean when they're mad. With you, it's the only time you're ever honest."
"That's not true."
That tetchy, dangerous tone was creeping into Murdock's voice, more and more with each word. "Why we gotta play this game, Face? I push you, you push me? Maybe we damn well should go outside and set the record straight."
"Is that what you want?" Face challenged.
Murdock's eyes lit up like fire. "Oh, like you give a fuck what I want! Don't you dare push this off on me!"
"No, I think it's the other way around, Murdock. We're standing here because my ass is on the line for a stupid call you made. That's what this whole goddamn thing is about and don't you forget it!"
Murdock grit his teeth. "I told you, I will take responsibility for that."
"You can't! Murdock, they will ground you!"
"So let them!" The yells from both of them were echoing in the empty room. "What the fuck do you care anyways? I'm not your fuckin' problem, Lieutenant, and I don't need your help."
"You sure about that?"
Murdock shoved him – both hands against both shoulders, hard enough to make Face stumble backwards. "Fuck you!"
In a flash, Face was on him again, one hand gripping his shoulder tightly and the other pulled back in a fist. Murdock glared at him, eyes full of bitter fury. He made no attempt to shield himself, and didn't flinch as he stared Face down. "Go ahead," he growled. "You know you want to."
Face stared back at him, unmoving, but his painful grip eased off a little. The realization that he was backing down only seemed to infuriate Murdock. "Do it!" he taunted, shoving him again. This time, Face's footing was sure. He didn't move. "I'm tired of the threats; they ain't doin' a damn thing for me anymore."
Face lowered his fist and his head suddenly, but kept his grip on Murdock's shoulder. "Stop."
Murdock didn't stop. "What are you afraid of, Face? Hannibal?"
"Murdock, stop."
"Tell him I started it. Hell, I'll tell him I started it!"
"Stop!"
Murdock pushed off the wall again, his own fist raised. "Don't tell me to fuckin' –"
He cut off as he was slammed back into the wall again, Face's fingers digging painfully into his shoulder. His other hand was pinned to the wall by the wrist and Face, eyes dark and unreadable, had his full weight pressed against him, holding him against the thick plywood.
For a long moment, Face didn't speak. Then, finally, he whispered a soft, "Stop."
Murdock shut his eyes. He could probably break the hold. He didn't have Face outweighed by much but he had the wall as leverage. He could force the fight, force Face's hand. Why the hell would he want to? It bothered him that he couldn't come up with a satisfactory answer to that question. So many reasons… None of them made sense.
Face didn't move, didn't relax his grip this time. Murdock could feel the warmth of his breath, the heat from his body through the shirt. He swallowed hard, then opened his eyes to stare into Face's, mere inches from his own.
"Look at you," he whispered, choking on the words, his eyes brimming with tears. "All I ever wanted from you, you couldn't give it. And now you're gonna stand here and tell me to stop, like I'm the one whose hurting you?" He shook his head as the bitter tears overflowed and glared straight at Face. He was too hurt and angry to even feel ashamed that he was crying.
"Fuck you, Face," he finally managed. He shut his eyes hard. "And all of your anger and your coldness and your need to be alone. I don't know what I did to deserve it and I don't care." His eyes opened again and he swallowed hard as he looked straight at Face. "You never should've come back for me."
Face's expression was unreadable. Whatever he was feeling – if he was feeling anything at all – it was buried under layers of practiced exterior. He was neither calm nor angry, not happy or sad, betraying nothing that was going on in his mind and emotions as tears rolled unashamedly down Murdock's cheeks.
"What is it you want from me?" Murdock whispered, pleadingly. "'Cause I don't get you. You got it all together and I just... I don't understand how you do it. I can't even relate. You're so fucking strong and I'm..." He closed his eyes, shoulders shaking. "I'm small and scared and... you don't get it. You think everything about me's dramatic and I'm a... a... what's the word? A somethin' flyboy. But you're stable. You're a rock. And I'm floating away and need to be tied to somethin' so I can come back. Do you...? Can you even understand that?"
Face stared at him, absorbing the words. They felt like a blow to the chest. Did Murdock actually believe that? Of course he believes it. It's what you wanted him to believe, isn't it? What you want everyone to believe... His chest was tight. Hard to breathe. Finally, he loosened his grip on both Murdock's shoulder and wrist, just slightly, and dropped his head forward a little as he closed his eyes and tried to think of words to answer that. There was nothing safe to say anymore.
He heard Murdock's breathing stagger, felt him shudder as he struggled not to sob. Face didn't know what to do with the raw emotion, the pain that he'd somehow caused. It hadn't been his intention – not really. Most people took a hint and backed the hell off at the first warning. But Murdock had kept coming back. It suddenly occurred to Face that he was going to keep coming back until he was broken. At the moment, it was frightening to see just how close to that edge he was.
Face looked up again. Murdock's eyes were still closed, lashes wet. His breathing was slow and shallow, jaw set in an attempt to regain control and some measure of dignity. Face watched him carefully. He looked... damaged. And for some unknown reason, it filled Face with unfamiliar feelings of guilt and remorse – feelings he hadn't known in a very long time.
"Murdock, look at me."
Murdock didn't look.
He sighed, and tried again – gentler this time. "Murdock. Please."
Still no response.
Very slowly, hesitantly, Face leaned forward, cheek to cheek with the pilot. "You're wrong, Murdock," he whispered, turning his head slightly to speak into his ear. "About me…"
If Murdock was surprised, or threatened, he didn't show it. He didn't react at all as Face stood very still, so close, their cheeks touching. Face was aware of the tightening in his chest, as if to protect itself from the overwhelming sense of vulnerability. He was just as aware of the warmth of Murdock's breath on the side of his face, the quiet shudder, the catch in his breath as he exhaled slowly. Almost involuntarily, Face tipped his head, nuzzling against the warmth and comfort of the human touch.
"How am I wrong?" Murdock choked, his voice catching on the words.
Face shut his eyes as the uncomfortable, exposed feeling made itself even more known. "You're dead wrong, Murdock." With a soft, shuddering breath, Face lowered his head, parted lips brushing Murdock's jaw. It wasn't a kiss, wasn't a caress. He didn't know what it was. "I'm not half as strong as you think I am."
Face turned his head and set a light, chaste kiss on the corner of Murdock's mouth, almost to his cheek. He could taste the saline from the hot tears that had left a trail from the pilot's eyes all the way to his chin. He hesitated, then withdrew slowly, unsure of what to do next. But before he'd had a chance to pull away, Murdock turned his head and caught him in a full mouth-to-mouth kiss. Face was the one caught off guard. His eyes widened in surprise, but the instinctive recoil faded quickly. Slowly, the muscles in his shoulders unclenched, and his eyes slowly slid closed as Murdock's hand moved up his side, then around to his back, pulling him closer as their mouths pressed together, both tightly closed.
Neither one of them moved, neither one of them breathed until slowly, Murdock tipped his head down a fraction. Face let out a shaky breath as he felt him caress his lower lip – first with lips, then teeth, then tongue. Face's jaw unclenched, and he let his mouth open slightly – an invitation although he didn't press forward.
Murdock hesitated. His embrace loosened. Face opened his eyes slowly to see that he was being watched. Their gazes locked hard, eyes full of fire and mixed emotion – confusion and apprehension, fear and need. Face let out the breath he'd been holding and gasped to fill his lungs again. Instantly, he was breathing hard, his heart pounding in his chest. The realization struck him. He couldn't think.
"Tell me to stop, Face." Murdock's whisper was shaky, barely audible. "Tell me I'm crazy, and this is all just a dream. And when I wake up, I'm gon' be back home in my own bed. Five-years-old, not a care in the world."
Face shut his eyes.
"Tell me there's no war," Murdock pleaded, desperately. "Tell me we're safe tonight. No sappers, no shellings. Tell me that these voices – all these voices keep screaming in my head – tell me they're not real. Tell me we didn't do this. Just tell me it's okay, Facey. Lie to me and tell me it's all gon' be okay."
Face looked up slowly, into the painful look in Murdock's eyes. It took several tries before he could make the words come out. "It's okay." His voice was weak and unconvincing. He couldn't really even believe it himself. But it was all he had to offer. None of this was okay and they both knew it.
Murdock let out a silent, shuddering sob. Face finally let go of his wrist, moving a hand to his cheek. Murdock winced, but then leaned into the comforting touch. "It's okay," Face said again, a little more sure.
Face rubbed his thumb over Murdock's cheek. There was nothing about that touch that was in any way scandalous. It was gentle and innocent – the kind of touch the nuns had offered as comfort all throughout his childhood. Clean. Chaste.
The kiss that followed was not. It was deep and passionate, and it sent a wave of heat all through Face, head to toe. That warmth was interrupted only briefly by a flicker of fear – what the hell was he doing? – before he relaxed fully into the pilot's embrace. His lips parted, and for a long moment, their tongues fought for dominance before they relaxed into a slow rhythm, a needful kiss. He felt Murdock's hands slide up, along his back, tracing the hard lines of muscle. Rough calluses brushed soft skin - a warm and gentle exploration over every inch. That touch, so much more than the kiss, was what melted him. His hand slid back into the pilot's hair, the other moving down slowly over his chest to the lowest buttons of his shirt. There was blood pooling in his groin. He wondered why that didn't scare him more than it did.
Murdock hesitated, pulling away slightly. Face pressed closer, pushing him to the wall, following the kiss. "Don't stop." Was that his voice? What was he saying? What the hell was he thinking? And why didn't he care? "Please. I'm sorry..."
Murdock opened again to him and they came together in a blur of hot, scandalous emotion. There was no thought. Face's hand moved down lower, fingers working at the front of the fatigues, sliding down and inside. Murdock gasped as he hardened against Face's hand. Locked in a deep, open-mouthed kiss, eyes closed and minds hazed, they didn't even hear the door open.
