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notjustafaceIt was only a matter of time, at least that's what Face tells himself when Hannibal corners him in the kitchen of a one bedroom apartment they've managed to scam for the last few weeks since tumbling into Chicago on a job. They'd been running almost a year without any major setbacks, sure they'd had their snags but everything was going well enough. Funny how a little thing can turn into a big problem.
"We need to talk about Murdock." Hannibal states flatly, twisting a spoon through his coffee with just enough sugar to kill the bitter bite of BA's strong brew.
Face already has files laid out in front of him on their mark and his associates, carefully making notes on a page of stationary from some motel in Boston. He doesn't bother looking up, assuming it's about to become another lecture on the dangers of mixing work and pleasure. "I'm listening."
"In case you haven't noticed, he hasn't eaten in two days."
He looks up from from his notes, going over the last couple days in his head - had it really been two days? It's hard to tell, they'd all been so busy getting things together to make their final move on a scumbag pimp that a cop friend of Hannibal's couldn't pin charges on. "I brought him breakfast a few hours ago, but he was sleeping."
"He's been sleeping for the last ten hours."
"So? That's a good thing, God knows I could use a good night's sleep."
"We all could. When's the last time he managed more then four or five hours?" Hannibal sets aside the spoon, but doesn't drink.
Face considers the question and then shrugs; "So, you think he's sick?" It's a possibility - they've been on the move almost nonstop for over a month before landing the gig and spent most of it sleeping in the cargo truck they'd bought with stolen salvage papers and living off fast food - it's enough to kill anyone's immune system.
"When was the last time he filled his prescriptions?"
Filling prescriptions was a laughable matter that over the last year has meant one exceptionally brief stay as a John Doe in an emergency room and a rather shady deal with a black market supplier. "Guadalajara. But those were really big... like dispensary sized bottles." Easily enough to cover him for a really long time.
"And when was the last time you counted them?"
He could see where Hannibal was going, and he didn't like. "Counted them? What, am I his mother? He's not off his meds."
"You're supposed to keep an eye on him, Face... when you decided that suddenly you two were..."
"Don't even go where you're going, man." Face pushes up from the table, glowering. "Just because we're together that doesn't mean it's my job to be his doctor!"
"It's your job to take care of him!" Hannibal shouts, drawing a low growl from where BA was sprawled across the sofa in the living room. "You took on that responsibility."
"I..." Face sighs, shaking his head. There's not even anything he can say to that - in all fairness, he more or less was taking care of him. He just never considered things like Murdock going off his medication without telling anyone.
Without further comment, he heads to the bedroom where Murdock's still curled on the bed with his untouched breakfast beside him.
"Wake up, man..." he states firmly, sitting on the edge of the bed behind him. "We need to talk."
"We need to talk about Murdock." Hannibal states flatly, twisting a spoon through his coffee with just enough sugar to kill the bitter bite of BA's strong brew.
Face already has files laid out in front of him on their mark and his associates, carefully making notes on a page of stationary from some motel in Boston. He doesn't bother looking up, assuming it's about to become another lecture on the dangers of mixing work and pleasure. "I'm listening."
"In case you haven't noticed, he hasn't eaten in two days."
He looks up from from his notes, going over the last couple days in his head - had it really been two days? It's hard to tell, they'd all been so busy getting things together to make their final move on a scumbag pimp that a cop friend of Hannibal's couldn't pin charges on. "I brought him breakfast a few hours ago, but he was sleeping."
"He's been sleeping for the last ten hours."
"So? That's a good thing, God knows I could use a good night's sleep."
"We all could. When's the last time he managed more then four or five hours?" Hannibal sets aside the spoon, but doesn't drink.
Face considers the question and then shrugs; "So, you think he's sick?" It's a possibility - they've been on the move almost nonstop for over a month before landing the gig and spent most of it sleeping in the cargo truck they'd bought with stolen salvage papers and living off fast food - it's enough to kill anyone's immune system.
"When was the last time he filled his prescriptions?"
Filling prescriptions was a laughable matter that over the last year has meant one exceptionally brief stay as a John Doe in an emergency room and a rather shady deal with a black market supplier. "Guadalajara. But those were really big... like dispensary sized bottles." Easily enough to cover him for a really long time.
"And when was the last time you counted them?"
He could see where Hannibal was going, and he didn't like. "Counted them? What, am I his mother? He's not off his meds."
"You're supposed to keep an eye on him, Face... when you decided that suddenly you two were..."
"Don't even go where you're going, man." Face pushes up from the table, glowering. "Just because we're together that doesn't mean it's my job to be his doctor!"
"It's your job to take care of him!" Hannibal shouts, drawing a low growl from where BA was sprawled across the sofa in the living room. "You took on that responsibility."
"I..." Face sighs, shaking his head. There's not even anything he can say to that - in all fairness, he more or less was taking care of him. He just never considered things like Murdock going off his medication without telling anyone.
Without further comment, he heads to the bedroom where Murdock's still curled on the bed with his untouched breakfast beside him.
"Wake up, man..." he states firmly, sitting on the edge of the bed behind him. "We need to talk."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:06 am (UTC)After another long, quiet moment... waiting for Murdock to break the silence... he admits; "I almost got caught, you know? Today."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:08 am (UTC)"What... Don't even say that, okay?"
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:12 am (UTC)He leans slightly against him, letting their weight meet in the middle.
"It was risky, but it was worth it."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:14 am (UTC)He makes a face at him.
"Thank you."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:16 am (UTC)"I mean it though, I'd do it again." Face pauses briefly, taking on a mock serious tone; "Don't make me do it again."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:18 am (UTC)He reaches for the water bottle, drinking as much as he can without making himself sick. On the TV, the video is starting to come to a close.
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:33 am (UTC)Still, it's nice to be comfortable and quiet together. Nice, and thankfully rare.
"How's your head?" He's not entirely sure what he's expecting the answer to be, but he feels like he should ask; "Like racing thoughts or you know... if you need to draw something..."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:35 am (UTC)He might be drooling on him a little.
"If I do, I'll let ya know."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:37 am (UTC)"I mean, any time you have thoughts like this... would you tell me?"
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:45 am (UTC)"I'll try."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:48 am (UTC)"Well... that's all the time we have..." he laughs, putting on his best Kermit voice.
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:51 am (UTC)"Thanks. I mean it."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:24 pm (UTC)"You'd do the same for me." He brushes another kiss in his hair and then slowly unwinds his arm before guiding him down onto the pillows. It's a move usually reserved for decidedly more naked and more romantic times, but it works for the moment. Comfortable, calm and yet tender.
"I love you, man."
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Date: 2013-05-06 08:52 pm (UTC)"Love you too."
Wrapped in his partner's comforting embrace, it's easy for him to drop off into a mostly peaceful sleep.
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Date: 2013-05-06 09:04 pm (UTC)It's going to be fine. He'll be up all night, waiting for Murdock to stop breathing or for them to have to make a run in the middle of the night in equal parts, but at least he's got good company as soon as he can bring himself to work his way out of Murdock's clingy embrace long enough to swap over the tapes.
"You know, this is all right." He whispers, knowing he won't be heard. "I protected you, I did my job." And it feels good to know that he's served his function. But deeper than that even, part of him feels like he's balancing out the inevitable pain he'll cause some day down the road.
"I'm sorry if I ever make you want to hurt yourself, and I'm sorry it's my fault I didn't realize things were bad before they got this bad. I kind of feel like an idiot for not putting it together sooner, I guess I just expected your crazy would involve trying to land a chopper on the roof or embarrassing the cashier at a doughnut place or something. I guess I really don't know what I'm doing here."
Rambling feels good, talking to himself without the filter of judgement.
"Well, I kind of know what I'm doing. I mean, I'm pretty much just rolling with the punches until I do something stupid and you figure out that you're better off without me."
With a soft sigh, he brushes a kiss against Murdock's temple and then worms his way out of bed to dispose of his trash and maybe find something sweet while he watches another tape. It's gonna be a long night.