Best-Laid Plans

[notthatcrazy]

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.

Comments

[notthatcrazy]

He manages a small smile. Somehow the kiss helps a little.

"Face..."

He's fading a little, as the pain gets worse.

[notjustaface]

Face is in the middle of tearing strips and looks up with a wary gaze. "Yeah babe, what's up? I'm getting this ready to straighten out that arm..."

[notthatcrazy]

"Just talk to me, okay? I think I'll be okay if you talk to me..."

Fuck, this is gonna hurt.

[notjustaface]

"Right... yeah..." It takes a moment, shifting focus from the specific task, "this is gonna hurt all right?"

He doesn't wait for a response, that's the trick, and quickly snaps the broken arm into alignment across to board, typing it tight at the wrist before tearing open the bloody sleeve.

[notthatcrazy]

He doesn't even bother trying not to scream. After a while, it subsides into small whimpers.

[notjustaface]

"Good job," he offers a weak smile for Murdock's benefit, biting into his lower lip as he started to tie off the strips.

"Talk to me, baby..." he ties a tight knot, tracing his finger over an old scar he'd never seen before on Murdock's forearm. "Hey, when'd you get this?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Huh?"

His head swims as he turns to look where he's pointing.

"Oh. Uh... In Germany."

[notjustaface]

"Germany?" He raises an eyebrow, finishing the last of the knots with bloody hands that manage to somehow remain still.

"Like in the hospital?"

[notthatcrazy]

He tries to nod... okay, that was unwise.

"Yeah."

He'll talk about it if he asks, but it's not something he really wants to remember.

[notjustaface]

"Hey... don't nod - don't move your head until we get you to an emergency room." In oh... about five hours.

He wipes his hands on his shirt and settles down on the floor beside him. "What happened?"

[notthatcrazy]

"Stupid... got upset an' tried to put my hand through a window."

His words are slightly slurred, his accent more pronounced like it always gets when he's off his game.

"Only happened the once."

[notjustaface]

Leaning in, Face brushes another kiss to his temple.

"It's okay, man... people do some messed up stuff when they're upset."

He almost wants to ask what he was so mad at, but it sounds like the sort of thing too sore to share just yet. Instead, he holds up his right hand, curling his knuckles into a fist to show ragged scars across his knuckles.

"I feel you there, man."

[notthatcrazy]

He takes Face's hand in his good one.

"Keep talkin'..."

He doesn't want to think about being in the hospital any more.

[notjustaface]

He chuckles dryly, shaking his head. "Prison. First night in a holding cell before I got transferred out to Florida."

He unflexes his fingers, lacing them with Murdock's.

"Punched a wall until I couldn't feel the pain anymore."

[notthatcrazy]

"Was a hard time for all of us."

But they got through it, and they're gonna get through this. As hard as it is to tell himself that when he hurts so much he can barely breathe.

"Tell me more."

[notjustaface]

"What, about prison? Man... those are stories you don't even want to hear."

Mostly because he did things he's not proud of.

[notthatcrazy]

"'Bout you. Anything."

He squeezes his hand, trying to scoot closer without moving too much.

"I wanna hear it all."

[notjustaface]

Clicking his tongue, Face quietly chides the movement - meeting it by pushing himself until they're as close as can be.

"Wow... all? That's a lot of history, man."

He half-laughs under his breath and then leans forward to slip out of his sleeve jacket before making a show of rolling up the sleeves on his bloody shirt. Satisfied, he lifts his elbow to show a very faded old white scar.

"When I was eleven I fell off a jungle gym trying to impress a group of girls that I hung out with."

[notthatcrazy]

"Ladies man right from the start, huh?"

He manages a chuckle.

"Bet you scared the life outta your folks."

[notjustaface]

"Hey, four stitches and all the girls were lining up to be my girlfriend... right up until Billy busted his leg on a skateboard." He laughs dryly, stroking his fingers over Murdock's good arm.

"I... uh..." It's not exactly something he's discussed, not because it hurts - he got over that a long time ago - just because it tended to make people feel sorry for him. Little Templeton Peck, the orphan boy. "I was placed with another family about a week later."

His laugh takes on a slightly more dour tone; "But if the string of parents between infancy and Saint Catherine's Military Academy was any indication... you're probably right."

[notthatcrazy]

"... Oh."

And some things suddenly make a lot more sense in light of this new information.

"Must have been kinda tough."

[notjustaface]

And that's normally his cue to lock up on the topic. He doesn't want to be pitied.

"It was fine," he responds casually, "hey, did I ever show you where I got shot on my first mission with Hannibal?"

[notthatcrazy]

"No, baby, you didn't..."

He squeezes his hand again, petting his arm.

"Didn't have parents around when I was kid, either."

[notjustaface]

He's about ready to drop trou and show it off when that soft remark kicks him in the guts.

"I had lots of parents, new set every year." It's deflection and he knows it, bitterness creeping in.

But, it hits a little late what Murdock's actually saying. "I never saw you as a past ward of the state."

[notthatcrazy]

"Wasn't quite like that."

His head's pounding, and it's all he can do to stay conscious and focused on his boyfriend.

"Never knew my dad, and my mama died when I was real little. Was just me and gramma and grandpa after that."