Reminders

[notthatcrazy]

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."

Comments

[notjustaface]

"There's nothing to talk about." Face replies calmly, shelving a few stray bits of grocery necessities. "Everything's going great."

Or good enough, really. Considering they're still fugitives and simple things like having an income and a place to stay aren't exactly a given.

"Just leave it alone, man."

[notthatcrazy]

Professionally, they're doing fine. The last few jobs have gone off with a minimum of hitches, which, considering their track record, is actually quite an accomplishment. Hannibal takes a cigar from his pocket and lights up, watching Face as he finishes up.

"He's hiding something. You know that's not like him."

Murdock's feelings, much like the rest of the man, have always been unapologetically wild and messy, as opposed to Face's carefully regimented and well-guarded emotions. Hannibal's seen enough over the past few days to know something's not right.

"Go find out what's bothering him. You're the only one who can."

[notjustaface]

"It's not worth stirring the pot while we're lying low..." Face shakes hi head, leaning against a mostly clean counter with an open box of Cheerios. "It'll pass."

He takes a big handful and shoves it in his mouth, not-so-subtly signalling the end of the conversation he really doesn't want to be happening. It's not like he doesn't know something's up - and he has a pretty good idea what it's about, it's just not something he wants to talk about.

[notthatcrazy]

It's a typical Templeton Peck move, as far as Hannibal's concerned: avoid emotional conflict whenever possible, even when the air obviously needs to be cleared.

"Unless you want whatever he's holding back to come out when we're actually in danger, this is exactly when it needs to happen."

He knows his team fairly well, and Murdock's never been one to let things go easily.

[notjustaface]

"C'mon, boss..." Face sighs through a partially chewed mess. After swallowing, he adds; "When has that ever happened?"

Like never. Okay, mostly never. Rarely at worst.

"Everything's fine."

[notthatcrazy]

Oh, there have been plenty of incidences of emotions running high in the heat of the moment, but he's pretty sure Face can't actually remember most of them. Which of course, is part of the problem. He reaches out and takes the cereal box from him.

Meanwhile, Murdock has emerged (kind of) from his hiding spot and is watching them silently from the bedroom doorway. He doesn't give any sign of having heard their conversation, but he does at least look happy to see Face.

[notjustaface]

The neutral line of Face's lips shifts upward to a genuine - mostly - smile at the sight of Murdock in his ragged dinosaur t-shirt and shorts. "Hey, baby..." he purrs, reaching up behind him for a box of chocolate cereal. "Got your favorite, store brad just like you like."

Diversion, genius.

[notthatcrazy]

The smile he gives him, while smaller and more tired then usual, is sincere.

"Got something to show you. Can you come here?"

He nods toward the bedroom behind him.

"And bring the cereal."

Chocolate-flavored empty carbs sound pretty good right about now.

[notjustaface]

His eyeroll is quick, but well-meaning; "Sure thing."

Quickly, he grabs a bowl and spoon and a half-empty carton of milk before heading for their "private" oasis.

"What's up?"

[notthatcrazy]

The stuffed cow is sitting on the nightstand, watching them both with its placid plastic eyes.

"Found an old friend today."

It's not the exact same one Face gave him all that time ago (probably, anyway. Weirder things have happened) but it's close enough to bring back a lot of memories and mixed feelings. At least for him. He's not sure if Face still remembers it.

[notjustaface]

The look on Murdock's face tells him it's something that has meaning to him, and probably something with meaning to both of them... but it's just another stuffed toy for all he knows. Still, he sits down on the bed and picks it up, replacing the void with the bowl and milk - tucking the spoon safely in the middle.

"Wow... hey there, buddy..." he murmurs to the cow, scritching it between the ears. "Bet you were glad to see it."

[notthatcrazy]

"Yeah."

And he was, really. It's just a really bittersweet kind of happy, especially seeing the lack of recognition in Face's eyes.

"You gave me one like it back when we got together."

They weren't really together together then, but it sounds better than "when we started sleeping together because you couldn't handle a real relationship and I was hopelessly in love with you."

[notjustaface]

"I know," his smile doesn't falter, and for a moment he thinks he can almost fool himself into thinking that's true. "You loved him... and we had to leave it behind."

That he knew was true, they'd left a hundred lives worth of stuff behind over the years.

[notthatcrazy]

He's not really fooling anyone, but it's accurate enough for him to let the remark go unchallenged.

"It's just... hard to be the only one who remembers some of this stuff."

[notjustaface]

For a moment, he's still. Then, with a dour sigh he tosses the plush down to the foot of the bed with a gentle underhand. "I'm getting better... remembering more every day."

It was a lie, he hadn't gotten anything new in a long time, but he needed Murdock to believe everything was fine - nothing had changed.

"I'll get it back."

[notthatcrazy]

To be honest it kind of terrifies him to think about it, knowing that his own mind is unpredictable at best.

"You don't have to lie for me."

Face may be an expert con man but Murdock knows his tells. (Most of them, anyway.)

"That's why I didn't say anything, 'cause I knew you'd feel bad and none of it's your fault."

It's just another thing on the long list of shit that life's thrown in their way. He doesn't want to say so, but he's not sure how much more they can endure.

[notjustaface]

It's not so much being caught in the lie that frustrates him, it was anyone else he'd just keep denying it, but it was that it was something he knew cut his partner deep. For all he knows, it is his fault. Everything could be his fault.

"Come on, let me pour you a bowl." He mutters the distraction, grabbing the box off the nightstand without a second thought.

Deny, distract, and when nothing else works self-destruct.

[notthatcrazy]

It hurts in more than one way, because he knows Face carries a lot of guilt around with him and only some of it is justified. He hates seeing that 'I fucked up again' look on his face and knowing it's there because of him.

He accepts the cereal, allowing the diversion however briefly.

"I'm okay with how things are now, y'know? We're still good. I just miss how they were."

His eyes stray to the ring on his partner's finger as he remembers picking it out. It was a good memory, but he can't help thinking of his own rings. They don't match anymore.

[notjustaface]

And like clock-work, it's a cue to self-destruction if he's ever seen one.

"I'm sorry, okay?" He shouts as softly as he can, leaning back against the headboard with his arms crossed over his chest. "I can't fix it. I know I'm broken and everything's not ok but this is what I have to work with."

He doesn't mean to to be angry, or hurtful, but knows full and well that he is. It's frustrating enough when he can pretend, having it out and knowing that things aren't going to get better and talking about it just brings out his inner asshole.

[notthatcrazy]

He takes a deep breath, avoiding Face's eyes as he tries unsuccessfully to keep his voice steady.

"I know, okay? And I'm sorry I'm having such a hard time with it, but I can't help how I feel."

It actually helps a little to get it off his chest, but Face's typical defensiveness is only making it harder.

[notjustaface]

Face knows it isn't helping, but doesn't know what will. Instead, he lifts a hand off his chest and chews a hangnail - letting the silence settle for a long moment.

Eventually, he says; "Tell me what you want from me, man. You know I'd do anything to fix this and make it better for us."

[notthatcrazy]

There's a small part of him - the part he's spent a lifetime trying not to believe - that feels like things are never going to be okay and life is just going to keep beating them until they break. When do the good memories stop being shadowed by sadness? When do they get to just be happy?

"I was thinking maybe I could write it down," he offers quietly. "That way you could read it if you wanted to, and we'd have something... You know. In case."

It's not a perfect solution - he's only got his own perspective to go on, and he's not actually sure how comfortable Face would be with having a written record of their relationship - but at least it's something.

[notjustaface]

He wants to ask why it matters so much, why they can't just keep on rolling on to the next thing... the past is done. But, he knows Murdock... and he knows that it does matter and that's all that it really takes.

"Sure," he shrugs, wiping the wet edge of his nail against his shirt with a barely audible sigh. "If that'll make you happy, I'm in." Not that he'd read it, some things were better left buried... including things that he should remember but doesn't.

[notthatcrazy]

He reaches out, trying to find Face's hand. He's still not looking him in the eye.

"Would you ever read it?"

He's fully expecting the answer to be no, but it would kind of help him if he did.

[notjustaface]

It's easier to reach back out to him, loosely taking Murdock's fingers in his palm. The closest thing he can give to an honest answer is; "I'll try."

And he does mean it, he thinks, he'd at least skim through to try and piece together some of the things he sometimes dreams about that may or may not be real.