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Memories

Memories
by Cok
e

Rating: PG-13 (I think)

Summary: Slight Murdock angst.  After events which have taken place in the RPG dated 09/04/00-07/05/00 and the snippet from the RPG, dated 20/04/00-23/04/00, Murdock finds himself remembering his past. (The RPG can be found at http://members.tripod.co.uk/Hannurdock/rpg01.html)

Just a quick summary of what has happened before this story.  It came from events from the RPG from the Commandos over a period of time. In this RPG, it was revealed that BA had been adicted to drugs, and in a private discussion between BA and Murdock, Murdock also admitted to having been a user.  This follows on from there.  If u wish to read the RPG in full (along with the snippet between BA and Murdock) it can be found at http://members.tripod.co.uk/Hannurdock/rpg01.html

Right, enough of me waffling, on with the story.

Memories

Murdock sat on the beanbag in the corner of the room and thought while BA slept.  He could just about accept the fact that BA had been a user and a pusher of Heroin.  What he was having trouble dealing with was the fact that ever since that fateful day, BA had never willingly taken anything which may have been slightly addictive, not even drinks containing caffeine or aspirin when he had been feeling unwell, and yet, for the past 15 years, he, Hannibal and Face had been tranquillising him on a regular basis, forcing him into something he never wanted.  And how was Face gonna take this news, because Murdock knew that there was no way this could be kept from the rest of the team.  Even though Murdock knew that Colonel would find out not only about BA's past but also his if the information left this room, he knew that BA's behaviour would have to be explained.

He looked over to where the big guy lay and sighed.  Why did BA have such a fear of flying anyway? It would have to be sorted, because Murdock was going to have no part in knocking him out in future, and he knew that Face and Hannibal would feel the same. But how would Hannibal react... The news that one of them had previously been addicted would have been bad enough, but he was going to hear that not only his Sergeant but also his Captain had been users...

Slowly, his memories started to overcome his thoughts.  Murdock tried to ignore them, tried to push them back into the trunk in his mind where they had safely lived for the past 20 or so years, but they refused.  That particular Pandora's box had been opened, and was not going to close again.  He didn't want to remember, he tried not to remember, not again, not by himself without the safety net of someone else being close by and conscious, but his mind was being flooded and he couldn't stop it...

Once more he was a young boy, standing at his fathers side, watching the coffin holding his mothers body being lowered into the ground. Just beyond the coffin, though, he could see a small deer, looking straight at him with its big brown eyes.  It started to walk towards him, actually walking over the coffin. He tried to turn away, but his father held onto his shoulder, and so he did the next best thing and closed his eyes.  After a couple of minutes he opened them to find the deer had gone.  Later that night, after he had gone to bed, it reappeared though. He did everything he could to make it disappear, shouted at it, turned the light on and off, lay facing the wall, but no matter what he did the deer stayed where it was.

For a long time he didn't say anything to anyone about the deer, or the other animals he saw when the deer wasn't about.  They were all small harmless creatures, but he was the only one who knew they were there and that scared him.  He occasionally asked people if the could see a rabbit, or a deer, but only in appropriate settings, when they were in a field or a wood.  However, they never did, and he eventually stopped asking and accepted that only he could see them. He never liked them though, they were a constant reminder of that which he had no longer, not that he really needed reminding.  He wished he could get rid of them, wished that they would go and allow him to get on with his life, but the never did.  Instead, he was reminded each day of the one horrible day he wished he had never had.  No matter how nice the rest of his family were, he could never forget...

The animals stayed with him all through his years.  He became a loner at school, spending time with no-one but himself.  He was always the class clown, being able to finish the work before anyone else had got more than half-way through left him bored and his quick mind gave him plenty of ideas to wind up the teachers and classmates.  But outside of lessons he spent his time by himself, shunning people who tried to make friends and whiling away his break times in the far corners of the school grounds, reading or solving abstract puzzles, the sort which baffled the brains of adults many times his age.

Murdock's mind skipped over memories from several years, stopping at the day his break time was not so quiet, the day his life changed. He was sheltering in the bike shed, it being a blustery day in late autumn.  He was in his first year at high school and was no different to the boy he had been since the death of his mother.  He still spent his class time being one of the brightest yet most difficult children in the class, and his spare time expanding his mind even further.  On this day, however, he was not as alone as he thought.  He was hidden in the gloom of a corner of the bike shed, reading a book designed for those taking a degree in mathematics, when suddenly a voice disturbed him.  Two lads a little older than him had entered the shed, presumably seeking shelter, and were discussing events from a party the previous night.  They were talking about this drug they had taken, and how it made them feel really good.  Murdock quietly shut his book and listened. He heard about this amazing substance which you could obtain, which not only made you feel really good, but also allowed some people to see things which were not actually there. This last comment made him think.  If it allowed people to see things which weren't there, maybe it would stop him doing the same.  If it didn't, he would at least be in the company of people who were almost the same as him. He continued to listen, hoping that he would hear where and how to obtain the drug, and in this he was not disappointed, for the boys went on to say how there was to be a group going to the local disco the coming Saturday night, including James. James had already been mentioned as the person who had the drugs, and Murdock decided then and there that he was going out on the Saturday.

He couldn't remember much of the following year.  He knew he had spent many days and nights, and all of the money he earned from any job he could get, on drugs.  He had tried as many different types as he could, with limited, inconsistent success at blotting out the animals that haunted him. He virtually dropped out of school, and the few days he did attend he found the work difficult, despite having been able to cope with much harder work previously. He knew that it was because of the drugs that he struggled, but decided the meagre benefits outweighed all of the problems he had, the sleepless nights, the problems concentrating etc.  Some days he would resist, and go without, but this never lasted for more than a day, because he just couldn't cope with seeing the 'invisible friends' he had accumulated over the years.

The next clear memory he had was of the day he decided he had to learnt to cope without a support. It was a cousin's birthday and his uncle had chartered a plane and took 4 of them up.  They were each allowed to go into the cock-pit and see how the plane was flown, even allowed to handle the controls for a while (under the strictest of supervision.)

This flight made a large impact on Murdock.  It was a day he had chosen not to take anything, a day he wanted to be himself, so he didn't spoil his cousin's birthday. Therefore his mind was feeling clearer than it had done for a while. When he actually got to fly the plane for a couple of minutes, he realised what a buzz he could get from flying, especially if he could fly fast, and he decided then and there that he was going to get his mind back to functioning as it used to.  Even if that meant seeing little fluffy animals. Because to fly he needed to be able to think, and he knew that with unnatural substances in his body, he wasn't able to think, and there were days, even weeks, which were a haze at best. But the feeling he got from that short flight was amazing, all the control he had, the freedom yet with rules that told you how to do it. It was so different, it made him feel like nothing ever had, like nothing could touch him, harm him ever again.

The following weeks he spent slowly regaining control. He found it harder and harder to cope the longer he went without any drugs.  He spent hours and days huddled under his bed covers, shaking so hard he was surprised the bed didn't shake apart. The first week or so, he spent almost as long bent over the toilet, retching until he thought he was going to turn inside out, and then outside in.  All through this time he concentrated on the feeling he had had when at the controls of the plane, promising himself that as soon as he could he was going to go back to school, get the best grades he could and earn as much money as he could, so that he could spend his life in the air.

BA awoke suddenly, feeling that something was wrong.  He couldn't remember where he was, and looking around for clues, he spotted Murdock sitting on the floor where he had slipped long before. Murdock had his arms wrapped around his knees and was rocking, with a spaced out, vacant look on his face.  BA quickly recalled the conversation that had taken place before he had fallen asleep.

"Murdock"

Murdock looked at his flight instructor.  He was still marvelling about the fact that when he got into a plane, into the pilot's seat, he didn't see anything wasn't there.  If only he'd known this before, he could have saved himself so much money, so much pain...

 

"Murdock"

 

`Hold on a minute, that's not my instructor's voice. So what...'

 

"MURDOCK"

 

Murdock shook himself, and peered around, trying to work out where he was.  He looked confused, still as caught in his memories as he was in the room.

"Murdock, say somethin'"

He gave himself another shake, closed his eyes and concentrated. Where was he? Why was he on the floor, and why was BA on the bed? What on earth had been going on?  Why had he been remembering... "BA  You a'right?"

"Be'r than you"

Murdock just looked at BA, who started to shake.  But BA ignored it, hoping the shaking would ease, and the craving would go, although he knew it was unlikely.  So to take his mind off what was happening, and in order to try and distract Murdock, he asked the question which had been bugging him since he had regained a fully conscious, fully working brain.

"What happened to me foo'? How did I end up here, pumped full o' this stuff?"

Murdock looked at him from the positioned he had resumed at the end of the bed some time before (after suffering from a loss of feeling from sitting on the hard floor) and said "No violence big guy. I'll tell you only if you promise to keep your fists to yourself." BA muttered under his breath, knowing he wouldn't like what was coming, but he agreed, as he had a feeling he had figured it out for himself anyway.  He just wanted his suspicions confirmed. Confirmation is what he got, but he also received a shock.  He had guessed that they had drugged him, knocked him out so they could fly to Germany so Hannibal could make the now aborted film.  What he hadn't realised, although he didn't know how he had overlooked it, was the guilt that Face was feeling over his illness.  Needing time to think about how he could help Face reject the guilt, he unexpectedly asked Murdock where the Captain had been when BA had woken up.

Murdock was caught unawares, and for the first time since that fateful day many years before, he started talking. Although Murdock started by telling BA about the first time he experimented, and the reasons behind him becoming an addict, he soon started to talk about his memories of flying. BA diverted him back to the original topic and again, after a short while Murdock returned to the subject of flying. So it continued, with BA gaining an insight into the past that Murdock had kept hidden away for so long, and also into the meaning flying had for the crazy but loveable guy (even if BA only admitted this to himself).

Suddenly Face came into the room, startling both of the occupants who had been so deep in the discussion that neither had heard the footsteps on the stairs.  He looked from one to the other, with an expression which was getting more worried by the second.

"Guys?"

"We're OK, Faceyman.  How `bout you?"

"What's going on in here?"

"Nothin' man, jus' talkin'"

Face looked from one to the other.  He knew he wouldn't get anything from them until they decided to talk, and so he put his conman skills to good use.  Straightening his face and putting on a bit of a grin, he replied "As long as there isn't a problem."  Turning to look directly at BA, he added "B.A..." before tailing off, a hint of worry returning to his features.

"Ya know Face, I think you're the one with the"

"Shuddup foo'.  Wha's up Face?"

"The doc thinks you'll feel better if...if... if you have a shot of methadone" Face garbled the last bit, wishing Hannibal hadn't told him to come up and pass on the doctors advice.

BA closed his eyes, knowing that the Methadone would make it easier for him, but not wanting to inflict yet another foreign substance on his body.  He opened his eyes and saw how rigidly Face was standing, then, turning his head a little, found himself staring into the depths of two brown eyes...

Not being able to cope with the knowledge that Murdock would take his `sentry' duty much more seriously if he didn't accept the offer, and wanting to prove to Face that he still trusted him, and that he didn't hold Face responsible, BA agreed to have some Methadone. Face visibly relaxed, that is, until BA added "But I'm only gonna let you give it to me Face"

Face stared at BA and paled, if that was possible.  He began to shake.  Unable to talk he continued staring, hoping that BA would realise he couldn't do it, he couldn't give BA another injection, not after what had happened.

BA reached out a hand and pulled Face's still shaking frame towards him, sitting him on the edge of the bed. Not taking his gaze from Faces wide eyes, BA started speaking, quietly and soothingly, as if to a small, frightened child.

"Face, I don' blame you for this. This wasn' your fault. It wasn' anyones fault.  Least of all yours. Listen to me Face.  Are you listenin'? Goo'.  It wasn' your fault.  It wasn' Hannibal's fault.. It wasn' Murdock's fault. It wasn' your fault Face.  You didn' know that it wasn' a tranquilliser in the syringe.  You didn' know about my past.  It wasn' your fault Face. You wouldn' hurt me, you wouldn' hurt any of us, cos we your family.  Stop blamin' yourself Face. You didn' do this to me Face.  If you need to blame someone, blame the person who gave it to you. Or the person who gave it to them. It's not your fault Face. You my lil' brother Face. You would never hurt me. I don' hate you Face.  I can' hate my lil' brother."

Slowly Face stopped shaking.  He listened to what BA was saying, was repeating to him over and over again.  As BA finished speaking Face dropped his gaze, and looked at his hands. BA gathered him into a hug and repeated what he had said, re-emphasising that Face wasn't to blame and that BA didn't hate him.  Slowly BA felt Face relax, and at that point he added the fact that he trusted his lil' brother, and it was only because he trusted him that he wanted Face to give him the Methadone.  Face sat up and looked into BA's eyes.  He could see that trust and knew he couldn't refuse, not now.

As Face administered the Methadone, Murdock went over to the sink to get himself a glass of water.  He couldn't watch, knowing that it wasn't what BA wanted yet also knowing that because BA didn't want it he wouldn't allow himself to become dependant on it, replacing Heroin with Methadone. Once Face had placed the cap on the syringe he silently sat on the bed for a while longer.  BA could see his eyes were slightly glazed, in the way they went when Face was thinking about something.

Suddenly he spoke, making the others jump. "What did you mean when you said I didn't know about your past?"

From behind him, Murdock replied "Doncha worry about it Facey. We'll talk `bout it when the big guy's back on his feet."  He spoke in a light-hearted, almost jovial, tone but all three knew that it wouldn't ease Face's fears and sure enough Face got up and left with a worried and hurt look on his features.

After Face left, Murdock returned to his seat on the bed, taking comfort in the closeness of another human being. BA, noticing how the tenseness left Murdock's body when he sat down pulled Murdock into  his arms.

"Doncha say anythin' `bout this to anyone, unnerstand foo'" he said, empathy undermining the gruff tone he tried to use. Murdock just nodded and swung his legs up onto the bed, lying alongside BA.  Neither man felt like continuing the conversation Face had interrupted, and slowly Murdock's breathing became slower and even.

B.A looked down at the sleeping Murdock, hoping that the fool would be alright.  He yawned suddenly, and felt his eyes closing. Hearing footsteps on the stairs, knowing that Face would have conveyed his worries to Hannibal, BA gave into the exhaustion that was once again overcoming him and slept, knowing that he was just putting off the inevitable.

END


 

 


Memories by Coke

 

 


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