People do all sorts of things impulsively and follow those impulses into strange places. - John Darnielle
"What? What are you looking at? I..."
"For outstanding dedication to the Bison code of bravery, you are now a Baying Wolf, First Degree."
Murdock didn't know what made him think of that particular moment. He was sitting by the pool, enjoying the sun on his back and his feet dangling in the water. Polar opposite feelings at the same time. Kinda matched his thoughts. The only difference was he liked the hot and cold hitting him at the same time. He wasn't sure about those things running through his head.
It hadn't actually been a spontaneous move on his part. Just one of those "Murdock things". And he had been proud of Face. It was obvious he was hurting when he rejoined the team with the hostages. But he kept going, never said a word when the plans changed. So yeah, being in that whole "Bison" mode, it was almost mandatory to recognize Face's contributions.
No big deal. So why did he keep thinking about it?
Because he really wasn't thinking about that award. Or the Bisons. Or what Face had done.
He was thinking about how it felt when he kissed Face.
Which was dumb. It was just a ceremonial thing. Murdock being Murdock. That's all. And Face certainly didn't seem to care after that initial surprise.
No big deal.
But the way it felt... He'd never thought about it before, how a man's face felt. It hadn't been that baby soft feel, like right after a shave. And not that bristle of a five o'clock shadow. Somewhere in between. Not rough, not smooth, yet both.
Strange.
Nice.
Murdock immediately dropped into the water, ice cold on his heated skin. Why the hell is he thinking like that?
What the hell is going on?
I didn't mean it, of course. About Face having to leave if he kept the watch. He knew it, too. It was just another one of those games we played. But afterwards, I started thinking again. About things. I need to quit doing that. 'Cause Face knew I was doing it. I must have a tell. Hannibal and BA either don't see it or don't care. Frankie - well, he's Frankie.
But Face always knows. And he'd know what I was thinking. And that's why he really decided to leave. Stockwell was just an excuse (Richter would call it 'displacement'). Stockwell was just a good scapegoat.
What Face really wanted was to get away from me.
I didn't realize it at first. I mean, what I was doing. See, I've always been a tactile person. I love hugging, I love slinging my arm around people, sitting close - though a lot of people say I just don't respect personal space. And I knew from way back in Nam that Face was like that, too. Well, he wouldn't touch anyone if he thought they wouldn't like it, but I knew he wanted to. Spent a lot of time rubbing his hands together or sticking them in his pockets. So it just got to be a normal thing for the two of us. Kindred spirits.
But I kinda went overboard. Not around the other guys. That would've been weird. But when it was just the two of us, I just... I just wanted to touch him. I kept thinking about San Marcos, and I, well, I thought it was just a strange kind of... curiosity. I'd never thought about it before. What he felt like. What his skin felt like.
I can imagine what the doc would say about this whole thing. Another new experience becoming an "obsession". Or maybe he'd say something else. Something along the same lines Face had. Oh, he'd said it in a joking manner. Letting me know in his smooth conman way that he didn't think I was, but that things were getting... uncomfortable. And just as carefully and unobtrusively, he started distancing himself.
So I knew, when he left, it wasn't because of Stockwell. But I really wasn't sure why he came back to stay. I know he talked to Hannibal for a long time before we headed back to Langley. I just thought he was going to disappear once the case was "officially' over. You know, so Stockwell wouldn't put the others on a tighter leash on future jobs. He never told me he'd changed his mind...
I don't know what happened. I thought I knew Murdock better than I knew myself. And I figured this 'thing' he was going through was just that - a thing he was going through. That pretty soon he'd find some new interest and go off on some wild trip through that fantasy land.
But he didn't. Maybe I was too hard on him. Maybe I could've found some way to get him past his 'crush', gotten him involved in something else. Someone else. But I just couldn't deal with that... Not from Murdock. And I know he was as confused about it as I was. I thought I 'let him down easy', but he really didn't take it very well.
Maybe that's why the whole Bancroft fiasco. Fiasco? The understatement of the century. I couldn't believe he'd do that. Not to me. And it still hurts. I know, I ended up apologizing to him. But afterwards, I couldn't help thinking, why the hell should I apologize? I was the one who not only lost any chance of actually talking to my own father - I lost my chance to find out about my mother!
And I lost something else, too. My almost total trust in him. And try as I might, I couldn't hide that.
Everything just went to hell.
At least we could still work together. Going after Hannibal, we were in complete sync. Total professionals. Doing our job. I just wish I knew how much of that was because Hannibal's life was at stake and how much was because it was the only way we could deal with each other. But eventually even that started falling apart.
Hannibal and I had a long talk. Maybe he was right. Maybe working under Stockwell, the whole Bancroft shit, and - even though I didn't tell Hannibal about it - that whole fucking infatuation of Murdock's... Maybe it was all just getting to me. Maybe I just couldn't handle it any more. So Hannibal decided I should step back. He made sure it wasn't obvious to the others, but the only one left to do my job was Murdock.
Pretty obvious what he thought that meant.
That's the way things are now, most of the time. My mind's not where it should be. This last job... I came damn close to getting killed, just because my head was off in the netherworld.
Maybe it woke me up. I don't know. But when Murdock insisted we come to that Italian restaurant tonight, I couldn't say no. I want things to go back the way they were. I want my best friend back. I want me back.
Maybe tonight we can make a start.