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Heavenly Peace

Heavenly Peace

Rating: NC-17 for language
Warnings: Very light slash, language, heavy angst
Pairing: F/M
Disclaimer: I don't own them.
Comments: Yes
*Note from the author: This is different from my usual stories in the fact that I wrote this one in first person format. I tried writing it a few times in third person, but it never came out right. Hope you enjoy it.*


I hate Templeton Peck.

That thought occurred to me about a week ago. I hate him. I hate the way he smiles, that wink he does, his laugh, his sigh. I hate everything about him. Even his name. Templeton. Templeton Peck. What the hell kind of name is that anyway? It's pompous, like him.

A week ago when this first occurred to me, I went into a fit of hysterical laughter. Needless to say, that caused me to be put in restraints. I need to add that to the list of why I hate him. He causes me pain, sorrow, heartache. I wish I could tell him that I hate him and why.

"Murdock, are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

I'm fine you arrogant, pompous, self-centered, son of a---

"You don't look fine."

"I'm fine."

And that's all you're getting from me so stop looking at me like that you pretentious, self-serving---

"You hungry?"

"I'm fine."

"Hannibal, why don't we stop and get something to eat? We don't have to be to the cabin until later tonight."

Great. Now Hannibal is looking at me. Yeah B.A., I see that look from you through the rearview. I am not in the mood for this. Why did I ever agree to this? They didn't even break me out for a job. They broke me out for Christmas. I hate Christmas. It's so fake and phony. Just like Face. Must be
why he likes the holiday so much. Normally, I enjoy these little breakouts for the holidays. That was before Face cut my heart out and stomped on it repeatedly. Yep, use to enjoy these little times. When I could watch Face, be near him, get away with touching him and maybe even, God willing, hug him. Not anymore.

I came to the realization that he will never love me the way I love him, so what the hell is the point? Besides, I hate him. I really don't want to be here.

Roadside diner. Hmm. usually one of my favorite places to eat. Trying to placate me, huh? Well, it's not going to work. Not this time. Booth in the back. Standard operating procedure. Face has slid in on one side. Normally, I would slide in beside him. Not this time. Think I'll sit by B.A. on this other side. Well, that surprised him. Thought I was going to sit beside you like nothing is wrong, huh? HA! Not this time, asshole.

"Murdock, you're sitting by B.A.?

"Felt like a change."

Yeah, I see those looks. The ones you think I don't see.

"What would you like to drink, sir?"


"And to eat?"

Water is fine."

There's those looks again. So what? So what if I don't feel like eating? Wonder what they would do if I told them I haven't eaten in a week? Can't eat. Can't keep it down. Food has no taste lately. Life is bitter.

"Murdock, how are things at the hospital?"


Don't even try to draw me into a conversation, Face.

"Did they...uh...did they change your medicine or anything?"

I can't believe he just asked me that! Must be written on my face. Uncomfortable? Good.


Yeah, shift in that seat again. You know what? Fuck it. I'm not sitting here all through this meal while they try to make small talk with me.

"I'm going back to the van."

There you go, Murdock. One foot in front of the other. Sit in your seat. Pull the cap down over your eyes. Maybe if they think I'm asleep, they'll leave me alone.

What would be even better is if I could actually fall asleep. Haven't done that lately. Fall asleep on my own without the help of the little white pills. I don't count that as sleep. I think of that as laying knocked out restrained to a bed so that the nurses can get some paperwork done without having to listen to you scream.

Screaming for him. And he never comes. Only when it's convenient for him.

Lost in my thoughts. I barely heard the front door open.

"Murdock? You awake?"


"I am now. What do you want?"

"Are you mad at me?"

Got that hurt sound in your voice, huh? Good. Let's see how you like being treated like shit.


"Oh. I thought maybe you were. You didn't seem too thrilled to see me today, and you've been giving me the cold shoulder ever since."

"Well I'm not, okay? I'm not mad at you! God, you get on my fucking nerves with all your questions! What's wrong? I'm not playing the part of the fool? I'm not hanging onto your every word? Well I am so sorry that I am not blown away by the great and wonderful Faceman anymore! So get use to it and get over it! Now, can I please go back to sleep or do you feel the need to bother me some more?"

Oh Christ, don't give me that look. I can't stand that lost puppy dog look right now. It's killing me.

"I'm sorry, Murdock."

Where the fuck did that come from? He never says he's sorry.

"For what?"

I don't know."

There's that sigh. Wait a minute, he sounds sincere. He never sounds sincere. Okay, he hardly ever sounds sincere. Wait, he said something and I missed it.


"I said I don't know. You just seem mad at me for something, even though you say you're not, and I thought...well...I thought I should say I'm sorry. For whatever I've done."

Oh Facey, don't do this. I can't handle this. I can't--

"Are you crying? Oh my God. Murdock, you're crying. Oh God. Tell me. Please tell me what I've done."

He's wiping away my tears. He looks so hurt and concerned. Push back. I have to push back. I can't.

"Why do you hurt me so bad? Don't you see it? See me? A sharp knife cuts the quickest and hurts the least. Just cut me and get it over with. I can't hide this anymore. I can't pretend anymore that I don't have these feelings for you. So, just cut me and then leave me alone."

He's quiet through my tirade. He's listening. Really listening. Trying to understand what I just told him. Now he's just staring at me. I slowly bang my head against the side of the van. I don't feel the pain. I don't feel anything anymore. I'm numb. Fucking medicine.

"I love you, Murdock."

"How can you say that? You can't love me. There's nothing to love. I'm just a crazy man who lives in a mental hospital. I'm nothing. How in the hell would I ever fit into the perfect life you envision for yourself?"

"Right in the center of that perfect life, that's where."

Now it's my turn to study him. I've stopped banging my head against the wall.

"When was the last time you slept? I mean, really slept?"

He wants the truth. I'm ready to give it to him.

"A while. I had an episode last week, and they've kept me pumped up pretty good."

"Were you in restraints all week?'

He said that so quietly I almost didn't hear him.

"Yeah." I hang my head. Damn, I hate having to tell him that. It's embarrassing.

"You should never be in restraints."

I look at him in surprise. He almost sounds angry. I think he is. The door opens again.

Hannibal and B.A.

Face is speaking to them. It sounds like he's miles away. I'm drifting. I need an anchor. I reach for him. He grabs my hand.

"I love you."

He stops talking. There is silence and suddenly I'm scared that I've said the wrong thing. I can't stop the tears as I bang my head against the wall again. He places his other hand between the van wall and my head, cushioning the blow. I finally stop and he gently caresses my cheek.

"It's okay." he whispers. "I'm here."

He turns and says something else to Hannibal and B.A. They nod in agreement. I hear the van start and we drive off to our destination. Face never lets go of my hand.

The cabin is nice. There's a tree and presents underneath. I still feel groggy. I think the medicine has just about worn off, though. I think of the horrible thoughts I had about Face and I cringe. I pull the blanket a little tighter around me. He looks up from under the tree where he is replacing a light bulb and gives me a concerned look. I try to work up a smile, but I know he knows better. He finishes with the tree and walks over to where I'm sitting in a chair. He kneels down beside me and brushes some hair away from my face.

"You okay?"

The look of love in his eyes almost takes my breath away.

"Yeah. I'm just tired."

He holds out his hand. "Come on. Let's go to bed."

He says goodnight to Hannibal and B.A. for both of us. I can't speak. It's taking all my effort to walk. What the hell did they have me on anyway? We walk to our bedroom and I sit on the bed complacently as Face undresses me. He helps me into a pair of pajamas, and then pulls the covers up around both of us.

"I'm so tired." I whisper.

He hugs me close and softly rubs my back. I turn my head into his shoulder and sigh. Suddenly, I realize silent tears are coming from me. He hugs me a little closer and I start sobbing in earnest. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry." I repeat over and over.

He rocks me back and forth and makes shushing sounds. "It's okay." he whispers. "It's okay. You have nothing to be sorry about. I'm here. I'll protect you tonight. We protect each other. Tonight is my turn. You need rest. Sleep. I'm here, and I'll be here in the morning. Just sleep." He kisses me gently and wipes away my tears. "Just sleep."

I close my eyes as his voice carries me to a peaceful place. He has promised to protect me and I believe him.

So I sleep.



Heavenly Peace by Alanda



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