notthatcrazy: (profile)
It takes a while to get started, but eventually he gets working on the whole "document your life together" plan. He makes a point to write things down whenever he can get a few spare minutes, beginning with their meeting in Mexico ("I know you remember this part, but I wanted to start from the beginning") and ending with Face waking up in the hospital.

The hard parts are difficult to get through, but it wouldn't be right to leave them out. His handwriting gets shaky in places as he recounts arguments and heartaches past. Mostly though, he writes about the good times in his typical rambling eccentric style. Some of the notebook pages have various bits of paper with drawings or other mementos taped to them, and at one point he goes on a tangent about his first flight that lasts for three paragraphs, but he gets to where he needs to be in the end.

Eventually, nestled among Face's belongings where he's sure to notice it, he leaves a small stack of cardboard-bound composition books, wrapped in a strip of frayed ribbon he found who knows where. There's a note tucked into the front cover of the topmost book.


You can read it, but only if you want to.

Love you.

- H.M.


Reminders

Dec. 21st, 2014 11:39 pm
notthatcrazy: (profile)
It's been several weeks since they, for lack of a better word, eloped, and while things have been good, he's still feeling strangely anxious. He's never really felt the need to hide, at least not from the team, but he's been uncharacteristically quiet.

He spots the stuffed cow on one of his thrift store crawls, which Face had declined to join him on. He stares at it for a good while, almost certain it's not really there, before he grabs it off the shelf and pays the meager fifty cent price for it.

When he gets back to the ramshackle rental house they've holed up in, he heads right to the bedroom without saying a word. When Face gets back from his own supply run, he's greeted by by Hannibal's stern look.

"You need to go talk to him."
notthatcrazy: (profile)
It's been a few months since Face's rescue, and everyone's still tensely looking over their shoulders. They've split up for the moment, hoping to better evade potential pursuers, but no one's exactly thrilled about it.

Face's memory is slowly returning, bits of it coming back like pieces of a patchwork quilt. There's still a lot missing, though,and it still hurts that it's gone. Which is why they're standing in a pawnshop on a dingy side street looking for a deal.

It's not what either of them want, really. They should get to have something special, something theirs. But they just...can't, right now, so they make do with what they've got. Just like always.
notthatcrazy: (Default)
It's early, and the sun is just starting to filter in through the blinds as he wakes. He's always been something of a morning person, when he sleeps at all, and though he's gotten better at resting during the night he still has his morning routines.

Leaving Face to sleep a while longer, he slips away to the kitchen for breakfast. He briefly takes note of the calendar on the wall, but it's not until he's poured himself a bowl of cereal and settled in for morning cartoons that the significance of the date sinks in.

Ten years. It's been exactly a decade since Mexico. Since his life was immeasurably changed for the better, despite the hardships and roadblocks along the way.

He'll have to mark the occasion with the others later, but right now there's only one place he wants to be. His breakfast finished, he returns to the bedroom, slipping back under the covers next to his still-sleeping partner. Not wanting to wake him, he contents himself with pressing against his back, letting his fingers trace the tattoo on his bicep before coming to rest on his chest. They've come so far, but sometimes he still wishes he could somehow telepathically communicate the depth of everything he feels.

I love you and I won't ever leave you.

He doesn't even realize he's whispered the words out loud until he feels Face stir in his arms.
notthatcrazy: (grinning)
The team's had a few rough cases lately, and it's finally time to lie low and let the heat die down a bit. Face had managed to scam them a small apartment (he doesn't know how, and he's decided he's okay with that) and it's the first time in months they've stayed somewhere with a cable connection.

Just when you thought it was safe to turn on the Discovery Channel...
notthatcrazy: (concerned pilot)
It's been a few weeks since their respite in Mumbai, and Face's leg has healed up just fine. He's up to his old tricks tonight, conning information from the campaign manager for the corrupt politician they're investigating. Murdock's got the responsibility of meeting him at the rendezvous point.

"You look like that went well," he observes dryly as Face slides into the passenger seat.
notthatcrazy: (Default)
It's been a long five years since their escape, and thanks to several high-risk high-reward jobs from higher-ups who wanted to maintain plausible deniability if things went wrong, the A-Team had finally earned their freedom.

It's been a bit of a rough transition, truth be told. None of them are quite sure where to go from here. B.A. had responded by heading back up north to visit his family, and Hannibal was still talking about starting some kind of private security firm. As for the two of them, it had taken a while but they'd finally managed to find a beachfront home that wasn't too hemmed in by development. The terms of their pardon included a fairly generous settlement which, combined with a few clever investments Face had made, meant they wouldn't have to worry about money for quite a while.

Now they just have to figure out what to do with themselves.

"Close your eyes." He sneaks up on his partner from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist. "I got a surprise for you."
notthatcrazy: (profile)
After the first few days of freedom, life settles down into some kind of rhythm. They've been in touch with the team (mostly variations on 'We're okay, hope you are too.') and Face has been out looking for ways to supplement their cash supply, which has left Murdock at something of a loose end.

He hasn't been sleeping well the past couple of nights, and tonight looks to be no different. It's not long after he drifts off that the nightmares start. They come in a confusing mish-mash of jumbled images, but the overarching theme is always the same.

Boss, it's Face... he's hurt bad...

Don't leave me, baby... I need you...

He wakes with a start, his arm thrown across his partner's chest, and grabs hold of him tightly, taking deep, frantic breaths.
notthatcrazy: (profile)
It's been a month since the Vegas Incident (as he's taken to referring to it, mental capitalization and all) and to an outsider, it wouldn't seem as though there was anything different about them at all.

Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) their teammates know them better than that. Hannibal's already pulled him aside once to give him the "letting your personal business affect the job" lecture, and he knows he's not above firmer measures. BA's been mostly supportive underneath their usual bickering, but he can tell he's worried as well.

As the morning dawns, he wakes from an unsettling dream to arms wrapped around him.

"Face... you gotta move."
notthatcrazy: (Default)
She's been through three burner phones since the A-Team's escape, and the tinny sound of that damn Steely Dan ringtone is still a thorn in Charissa Sosa's side. She hasn't heard from the team in months, so the phone ringing while she's at the gym one morning is an new development.

"El Diablo!" A completely unexpected voice calls out from the other end of the line. "Long time, no chat. I was startin' to think you were avoidin' us."

"Murdock?" She tries to keep her voice down. The locker room is nearly empty, but sound still echoes. "What the hell are you doing?"

"Sorry I ain't the person you wanted to hear from, but... don't take this personally or anythin' but I'm the only one who wants to talk to you right now. We happen to have intel about a certain shipment of weapons that went missin' a couple months back."

Damn them. She's been tracking that down for weeks. "So, why call? You know how to get information to me."

"Like I said, I wanted to talk. I got a bone to pick with you."

This is why she hates talking to Murdock. It's not that she dislikes the pilot, exactly, it's just damn near impossible for her to figure out what he's going to do next. Face would know, she thinks. Even during the brief time they'd been together, the two of them had practically been joined at the hip. "If this is about me chasing you..."

"Hell no," he scoffs. "That was just you doin' your job, and you helped us out anyway so that's water under the bridge. This is about what you did to Face."

Her voice goes instantly cold. "How is that any of your business?"

"I'm the one who had to put him back together when you were through with him, that's why it's my business." She can almost hear him gearing up for an epic ramble. "It's not even the fact that you left him, God knows he can be a real pain in the ass to live with sometimes. It's how you left him that I got a problem with."

Now she's slightly confused. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"You didn't just leave him, you dumped him. With a capital D. You probably didn't know this, but he's got all kinda issues with being dumped."

She scowls at the phone, even though she knows he can't see her. "Look, it's not something I can take back..."

There's a soft laugh from Murdock. "No, I'd say that ship has well and truly sailed. I just had to get that off my chest."

She wonders what he means by that as she realizes he's got her completely off-guard again. "Okay. I'm going now, but I'll be expecting those files."

"Catch ya later," he laughs as she hangs up.
notthatcrazy: (concerned pilot)
It was supposed to be an easy job. At least that's what Hannibal had said, with his usual bravado. All they had to do was tail the guy who'd been stealing corporate intel from their client and report back when they found his base of operations - at least that was the plan, until they'd been spotted and he'd gotten the drop on them before Face could take him out.

So now he's got a possible concussion and a probable - ow, no, make that a definite broken arm and a very worried partner to deal with.
notthatcrazy: (Default)
Face had stayed awake after outlining his plan, long after the others had drifted away to catch what rest they could. Murdock knew that the responsibility was weighing heavily on him, particularly coming so soon after the reveal of Morrison's betrayal. He found him still looking over the three plastic cups, mentally going over the details of the plan.

"Who has the most to lose from this? Me," he'd pointed out to him. "And I trust you."

"Yeah, I know.. but you're crazy."

"Not that crazy."

Eventually he coaxes a genuine smile out of him, and he pulls him away from the table. "C'mon, you're not gonna do us any favors stayin' up all night."

Face follows him without too much protest, stopping short when he reaches their makeshift sleeping quarters. "What is that?"

"What, that?" Murdock grins, picking up the small stuffed hippo. "Found it with the dolls. Must've gotten mixed in with the wrong shipment."

Face just shakes his head as Murdock pulls him down to sleep, still humming his faux-operatic tune. Eventually, the soft singing changes to a more melancholy melody.

Breakdown

Mar. 16th, 2013 03:58 pm
notthatcrazy: (profile)
"I'm gonna fix this!"

Those are the last words he hears after everything goes to hell, and he wishes he could believe them. It's easier to just stop thinking, to withdraw into himself. He feels broken in a way he hasn't in years, maybe ever.

The days blur together after a while. Hospital, med changes... it's not the worst place he's ever been, in all fairness, but even the few doctors who seem to care don't really know what to do with him, and the reality of being separated from his team is enough to make it almost unbearable.

He's transferred three months in, to Germany of all places, and although no one will tell him why it's enough to make him remember that last desperate promise. He starts palming some of his meds, the ones he knows he doesn't need because he's been on them before.

It's been six months, almost to the day, since he last saw the others when a package arrives in the mail.
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