The Concept of Settling Down

[notjustaface]

It's been a long couple years, and it's starting to wear on Face - it's starting to wear on all of them, he thinks. And no matter how hard the boss pushes it feels like they're never going to get close to the ultimate goal... to clearing their names and being anything but men on the run.

The natural instinct, the instinct of a con-man, is to find a place and dig in. Start over. New identities, new roots. Of course, that's something he can't voice - not even to Murdock. He knows they wouldn't understand why it's the most viable option when as far as they're concerned freedom could possibly be right around the damn corner.

Still, a little settling down doesn't sound like a half bad idea.

They're just over the US-Mexico border heading into Texas on day four of job that only seems to be getting longer. They won't be stopping until Canada, save for maybe a night in a hotel when they're all so tired and angry at each other they can't think straight. It's Hannibal's shift to drive and BA's tucked into the passenger seat beside them, leaving Murdock and Face to fight against the sway and bump of the dark cargo hold with a few pillows and blankets and their limited baggage.

Groping blindly Face finds Murdock's hand and wraps his fingers around it, squeezing gently. "I'll be glad when this is all over."

Comments

[notjustaface]

He can still see the familiar shine, though - and it warms him in a way he's slowly getting used to Murdock's reassurances doing.

"Always real with you." His fingers shift under his partner's flannel shirt and hold closer against his layered t-shirt. It's the honest truth, everyone else there's varying degrees - for BA he tries to be the mentor or the cool headed guy that gets shit done, for Hannibal he'll always be the impetuous kid...

Murdock gets the real deal. Whatever that is.

[notthatcrazy]

"I know." He sighs, clasping his hand in his. "And you have no idea how much that means to me."

It's kind of a huge deal, to be honest.

[notjustaface]

"It's kind of..." his tongue hitches, looking for the exact word before sighing; "...terrifying."

And definitely not his usual - then again, nothing about his relationship with Murdock falls under the 'usual' heading.

[notthatcrazy]

"I know."

It's all brand-new territory for them both, which is both terrifying and amazing. Often at the same time.

"We're gonna take care of each other just like always, you know that right?"

[notjustaface]

Squeezing him even tighter, he answers; "You bet we will."

It sounds like an empty platitude, but he does mean it. "You're stuck with me, remember?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Mmmhmm. And glad to be."

That settled, he leans in for another warm, comforting kiss.

"We'll talk to the boss when we stop, okay?"

As much as it's going to suck, they really do need to work this out.

[notjustaface]

Groaning softly, he slumps against him for a bit of exhausted comfort.

"I can take care of it. You don't need to be there."

[notthatcrazy]

Comfort he can happily give. It's rare that he'll accept it when he does.

"I got your back, baby, you know that."

[notjustaface]

It's not like he's good at asking for it - even when he really needs it.

"I know you do... just, uh... maybe have a first aid kit ready."

[notthatcrazy]

"I'm sure it won't be that bad. Probably."

Hannibal tends to save the more physical forms of tough love for deeply serious screw-ups. His fingers brush against a certain faded mark near Face's hairline.

"If it is, I might need to have a chat about leadership skills."

[notjustaface]

He earned that scar - thankfully mostly covered by the hair that's grown well past even skimming regulation length.

"I've known him since I was almost kicked out of the Army about a dozen times... sometimes I deserve a little tough love."

[notthatcrazy]

"Sometimes," he agrees readily. "But saying you're tired and you need to take a rest before you fall apart ain't one of those times."

He doesn't doubt that the boss'll be angry at first, and take a lot of convincing, but this doesn't seem like the kind of situation he'd use force over.

[notjustaface]

The problem is 'I'm tired and need a break' is more apt to come out as 'I'm done with this shit' given the mood he's in now.

Of course, he doesn't admit that much - instead he presses a fond kiss to Murdock's forehead and yawns against his cheek.

[notthatcrazy]

Which is why Murdock wants to be there. You know things are getting hairy when he gets to be the voice of reason.

"Love you," he says simply.

[notjustaface]

Face isn't exactly on his game, he's tired and frustrated and reason is beginning to get a little difficult tap into when it comes to their situation. All told, he's sick of always running.

"I know," he squeezes even tighter, pressing the metal of his faux-wedding bands against Murdock's fingers purposefully. "Love you too, man."

[notthatcrazy]

The gesture is felt and appreciated. There's really not a lot of 'faux' in their faux-marriage anymore, though saying that out loud still seems like asking for trouble.

"We'll figure things out," he murmurs sleepily.

[notjustaface]

Part of him still clings to the fact that he doesn't believe in marriage - that there are deeper things.

Like love.

"We always do," he presses another gentle kiss to his forehead.

[notthatcrazy]

He's long believed that what they have doesn't need or fit any formal, traditional definition... but the rings are a real nice reminder.

"That's the spirit."

They continue in that vein, quietly comforting each other, until they finally pull into the parking lot of a cheap motel. Exhaustion gets the best of even the likes of Hannibal Smith sooner or later.

[notjustaface]

A motel, thank goodness. He's ready to pass out anywhere softer than a few blankets in the back of the van.

Food, somehow, takes priority and it gives him a chance to talk to Hannibal however exhausted they may be.

[notthatcrazy]

Somehow they manage to stay upright and mostly coherent while Hannibal gets the food and room arrangements taken care of. Interrupting him while he's in Mission Mode is a sure way to get on his bad side.

He tags along after Face, letting him take the lead but ready to back him up as needed.

[notjustaface]

"Boss..." he leans back against the wall his chair is propped against, managing to keep his eyes open if nothing else. "We can't keep doing this."

"We're okay for this stop." Hannibal answers, lighting a cigar near the window. "We're making good time."

They are, actually. Driving in shifts helps. "You and I both know that's not what I'm talking about. We can't run forever, you know?"

"And we won't. Just as long as it takes..."

"It's a pipe dream, Hannibal. There's no end to this and you know it!"

Hannibal crosses both arms over his chest, tucking the cigar into the corner of his mouth with a glower.

[notthatcrazy]

"We all need a break, Colonel," he says quietly, hoping his outward calm will present a counterpoint to Face's exhausted nerves. "You know I don't do too well without a routine, and this ain't good for me either."

He knows Hannibal's read his file, and can probably read enough into that statement to understand what he means.

[notjustaface]

The Colonel's lips crease tighter and he shakes his head. "We're close, I can feel it."

"You can feel it? Because all I can feel is my back killing me from sleeping in the truck and my eyes trying to give out on me."

"And all I hear is you whining." Hannibal shoots back, crossing his arms over his chest. "We all knew this wasn't going to be easy, but I'm telling you... we're getting our names out there. We're building awareness of our cause and the injustice that was done to us. All of us."

"Injustice! I'd rather go AWOL than hear you tell me about injustice!"

[notthatcrazy]

"Shhh." He wraps his arms around his partner and buries his face in his neck for a moment, not caring that they're in plain view of the others. When he turns to address Hannibal, he doesn't let Face go.

"It's gettin' real hard to see the end of the road, boss."

He's the eternal optimist of the team, but even he's starting to realize that this might not have an end.

"And I mean it when I say I'm under some serious stress here," he says more quietly. "Do I need to spell it out for you?"

He will, if that's what it takes.

[notjustaface]

"You're fine..." Hannibal replies, his voice softened as he considers the remark.

Face lets his arm wrap around Murdock's waist - holding him close. "We need a break, is all I'm saying. Not giving up... just maybe a couple months to settle down and get our bearings."

"And end up in prison."

"You really think I'm that far off my game?" Face shoots back, "We can disappear and you know it. No jobs means no red flags, maybe a nice apartment somewhere - give me a week and I can have us all clean identities."

"To what end, Lieutenant?" Hannibal's voice takes on a dark, threatened tone. "To play house?" His eyes turn to Murdock; "I know you. Both of you. And I know we're all suffering here - but we're doing it together. As a team."