Shadows of Old Scars
Title: Shadows of Old Scars
Copyright: 2000
Author: emmastark
Rated: R
Disclaimer: All original TAT characters belong to Stephen J. Cannell and
Universal. This story is written for fun, not money.
Archive: Yes
Warning: Slash.
Comments: Please
Summary: A watery encounter
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Shadows of Old
Scars
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The eddies and
currents of the dream world pushed Murdock gently up into the light until he
woke, blinking, focusing, taking a deep breath.
The bed was
empty.
Murdock could
remember, in that almost remembering kind of way a person has when they’ve
slept with some one for awhile, that Face had had a restless night. Tossing and turning. Muttering to himself. He recalled reaching over, at one point, and
draping an arm over Face’s shoulder.
But it must not have worked.
Must not have kept, well, whatever it was away.
Face’s running
shoes were still in the corner (or back).
Murdock looked out the window.
The house sat
perched above the Pacific Ocean on a cliff.
A narrow pathway, mostly stairs, had been cut into the cliff face many
years before. It led down to a small,
private cove.
The sand was
empty, but Murdock could see someone in the water. Face. The morning sun
brought out the gold in his honey-colored hair.
He was swimming
against the waves like he was wrestling someone down, pushing against
them. But you don’t win against the
ocean.
Murdock pulled
on a pair of old cutoffs and a green t-shirt that said “Kiss Me – I’m
Lithuanian.” He walked out into morning.
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It wasn’t warm,
precisely. A steady breeze came in off
the water, salty and wet. But the pale
morning sun was trying its best. You
could feel it on your skin.
Murdock climbed
down the stairs.
They were worn
in some places, and had broken away in others.
You had to be careful. There was
no railing, but Murdock put his hand out and let it trail along the cliff wall. Sand shouldn’t have been able to make its
way clear up the stairs, but sand has a way of getting everywhere. It gave the damp steps a slippery feel, and
Murdock was glad he was barefoot.
He paused
halfway down and looked out. If heights
had bothered him he wouldn’t be a happy camper, but he was a pilot. He liked being up in the air. There was a part of him that still
considered leaping off cliffs. That
thought seriously of flying, Icarus-wise, up toward the sun just to see if it
would melt his feathers. (And was that
the pilot or the crazyman? Did that
come from the dark place or the light?)
But he was intent on rescuing Face at the moment. He picked out the firm, tanned body of his
friend and lover, still battling the waves below, then continued down the
stairs.
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Murdock made his
way across the sand until he stood on the edge of the world. Well, North America, anyway. You could look out and see nothing but
blue. The cliff surrounded the little
cove, protecting it from civilization.
A plane banked high overhead, but then even it was gone. There were only the two of them.
Face noticed him
after awhile. He let the tide carry him
in, tumbling him once before it dropped him on the sand. He smoothed the water out of his hair, off
his face.
Almost anyone
would have said he looked wonderful. He
wore only tight-fitting bikini swim trunks.
Their color matched his eyes.
His skin was tanned and smooth.
Murdock noticed
that his eyes were shadowed. The dark
patches beneath them looked almost like bruises. Face moved gracefully always, but now he was picking his feet up
carefully, like his legs were terribly heavy.
As Face
approached, Murdock held out his hand.
He felt bolder when they were alone, and trusted more easily in the
things he couldn’t see.
Face took his
hand and they walked silently along the beach for a few minutes.
A hill of sand
pressed against the south end of the cove and the two men paused when they came
to it. Sunlight was just beginning to
climb over the cliff and up the side of the dune.
Face stared out
over the ocean and Murdock, still grasping his hand, watched him from a
half-step back. He wanted to memorize
him, like a map, so he’d always know where to find him. He’d never met anybody who could make
himself disappear so fast. Even Billy
was more predictable.
It was hard to
keep his eyes away when they were together.
It wasn’t lust. Okay, it was
99.5% lust, but the really big other part of looking at him was a fear, deep in
his heart, that all the time in the world would never be enough. He would miss something important, and then
Face would be gone.
But if he just
looked deeper. If he could remember how
Face’s shoulder curved up into the back of his neck. If he could figure out the pattern in the shadows of scars across
the smooth, tanned back. If he could
penetrate those blue eyes, changeable as weather, now hidden, now vulnerable,
now playing you some song in a key you like to hear…
“Did you ever
dream, and not remember what you dream, but feel – I don’t know – kind of…
haunted by it anyway? Not know what it
was, but still feel it?” Face asked softly.
Murdock traced
one hand down the back of Face’s neck, across his shoulder, down his arm. He could feel goose bumps on the bare
skin. He could feel Face tremble
beneath his touch.
Murdock draped his
arm around Face, pulled him close for a moment, then led him over to the
dune. He sat down in the sand.
“Dream-shadows,
Facey. Everything real has a shadow.”
Face looked down
at the sand beneath him. He traced his
own shadow with his toe. “I don’t want
it to be real.”
Murdock closed
his eyes. He knew way too much about
what was real and what wasn’t. Most
people would tell you that sane people are the people to ask about that trip. But crazy people have actually taken the
$249.99, lunch-included sightseeing tour.
They’ve been there. They’ve
crossed that border and brought back the snow globes to prove it.
“C’mere.” Murdock patted the sand between his sprawled
legs.
Face blinked at
him, then smiled wryly. “I’m wet.”
“I’m a drip-dry
kind of guy, Faceman.”
Face dropped
heavily to the sand.
Murdock leaned
back onto the dune and pulled Face up until his back rested against Murdock’s
chest. His head rested on Murdock’s
shoulder.
Murdock could
feel sea water seeping slowly into his thin t-shirt, but he could also feel
Face’s trembling and that ocean-cold diminish as he held him close.
After awhile,
Face’s breathing became even and slow.
His body relaxed against Murdock’s.
Murdock
concentrated on the feel of the sun on his skin. The feel of that familiar body resting heavily against him. The smell of morning. The sound of the ocean, that drowned
everything else out. Maybe even
dreams. Maybe even the shadows of
dreams.
He was half-way
through memorizing the way Face’s hair curled, just a little bit at the ends,
as it dried, when he fell asleep.
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“Murdock! Murdock, wake up!”
Murdock couldn’t
figure out where he was for a moment.
The sun was in his eyes, he was covered in gritty sand, he had a
sneaking suspicion that the reason his skin felt so tight and hot was because
he was sun-burned, and Face was sitting in his lap. Practically in his lap, anyway.
Then he
remembered falling asleep by the water.
As his eyes blinked into focus, he could see what Face was pointing at.
Dolphins.
A pod of them
leapt and dove in the waves just off-shore.
Their fins looked black against the blue water.
Face was smiling
at him. “Race you.”
Murdock
scrambled up, but Face was already at the water line. Then they were both splashing through the surf and diving under
the crashing waves.
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Face watched,
treading water, as Murdock dove head first under the surface, kicking his feet
in the air behind him.
A sleek, grey
dolphin mimicked him, diving and waving its tail before slipping down under.
They were
surrounded by dolphins – maybe twenty of them.
They leapt out of the water in graceful arcs, then again in twos and
threes.
Murdock swam
with them. Face felt the knot in his
chest, left over from (dream shadows) the night before, ease a bit as he
watched his lover play.
He’d never met
anyone who could play like Murdock. He
could lose himself in the game completely, with the single-minded intensity and
joy of a child. Finding himself again
was sometimes a challenge, but losing himself – he could do it in an
instant. Face always had to be careful
when he used him in cons. Face shrugged
on characters like coats, but Murdock became.
Murdock lay on
his back for a moment, spouting water from his lips like a fountain. Then he rolled over and over and over. Two of the younger dolphins (teenagers?)
showed their bellies, then their backs, then their bellies again. When Murdock clapped for them, laughing, one
of them dove under him, then leapt over his head, showering him with water that
sparkled in the bright sunlight.
It was
beautiful. Face wished for a moment…
but he was who he was. Somebody had to
stay anchored, right? Somebody had to
remember the way back. Somebody had to
hold onto the details, carry the memories, stay in control. At least Murdock was letting him be
close. From close by, he could watch.
Face gasped when
something brushed against his thigh. He
looked down.
An old
grandfather, his pale grey coat riddled with the ghosts of old scars, lay
quietly in the water beside Face.
Face reached out
a tentative hand, then stroked it along the smooth, moist skin. It felt… soft somehow. Different than he would have imagined.
One large dark
eye stared up at Face. And suddenly,
the old dolphin’s back fin was in his hand.
He grasped tight, using his other hand to steady himself against the
dolphin’s side. The huge mammal took
Face with him when he dove.
The world felt
blue. Everything was water – soft,
wavering, smooth. They passed deeper
into the darkness. The water pressed
against Face’s ears, then against his chest.
Small bubbles escaped his lips and rose toward the light, but the light
was very far away.
The silence was
complete. No sound. No movement. Just the beating of his own heart and the feel of smooth flesh
beneath his hands.
Alone. So desperately alone. Had he wept this ocean that pressed against
him? Did he breathe in wet sorrow? The things he carried held him down. Need overwhelmed him, but there was nowhere
to run.
Nowhere to run.
And they were
moving.
Darkness became
light. Heaviness buoyancy. Water air.
He couldn’t
remember how to breathe.
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Strong hands
lifted his face up out of the water and deep brown eyes stared into him. Murdock’s mouth was moving but he couldn’t
hear…
Face shook his
head, and water fell out of his ears.
“…okay? Face, talk to me! Hello in there!”
Face reached out
his hand and stroked Murdock’s cheek.
Murdock gave him
a little shake. “Are you okay?”
Face
nodded. He drew air into his lungs
tentatively, then desperately. He let
his eyes close, and felt Murdock’s body beneath him, supporting him. His head rested on Murdock’s shoulder, and
Murdock stroked his arms gently.
“Scared me,
Facey. I turned around and couldn’t
find you.”
Breathing took
more concentration than Face remembered.
He clutched at Murdock’s hands, pulled Murdock’s arms around him and
held them there, imprisoning himself. He
breathed.
“Are you okay
really?”
Face could feel
the gentle movement of Murdock’s legs in the water, kicking softly, keeping
them both afloat. Murdock’s arms felt
so strong.
“Is it all right
to need you so much?” he whispered hoarsely.
“I need you so much.” He closed
his eyes. (Would he pull away? Would he pull away? Would he go away forever? Will he leave me alone forever?)
Murdock pressed
his lips against Face’s temple. More a
promise than a kiss.
“I know I’m not
so good at the world stuff, Facey. Gets
all messy and complicated out there in real life. Makes me want to run away.
But I swear, I’ll never run away from you. You need me all you want.”
Face buried his
eyes in Murdock’s neck.
“You take care
of the world and I’ll take care of you, okay?
That was our deal, right? Spit
and shake.” Murdock kept hold of Face’s
limp form tightly with one arm, but lifted his other hand to Face’s cheek. He rested it there.
Face
nodded. (…never run away. Take care of you. Never run away. Never run
away.)
“If I memorize
your fear, could I make it disappear?” Murdock’s thoughts slipped lightly
across the surface of his mind as he concentrated on holding Face firmly in his
arms. “You’re a slippery little sucker,
ain’t you, Facey? Where’d you go, just
now? Where’d you go?”
(Memorize
him. Like a map. And the dream-shadows won’t be able to take
him anywhere you can’t follow.)
(Scared to
follow.)
(Love you,
Facey.)
(Scared to
follow…)
(Love you so
much…)
(Memorize
him. Like a map.)
(Like a map.)
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~fin~