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Through The Patio Door

Through The Patio Door

By Englishspirit


Rating: G

Summary: This is set after the episode Family Reunion in season 5. Hannibal watches Face and thinks about what a father should do and what a dad does.

Disclaimer: I don't own them, Cannell does.

Warnings: Some mild profanity, noncon m/m rape is mentioned briefly.

This is as close to angst as I can get, so please excuse me as I go write something so fluffy it will gum up my computer, as always thanks for any comments or suggestions.




Bancroft was the kids' father. Hannibal stood by the patio door looking out as he puffed thoughtfully on his cigar and watched his lieutenant. Face was sitting outside in one of the patio chairs apparently absorbed in the Langley sunset. Yeah, right, Hannibal told himself sarcastically, the kid always had a habit of watching sunsets in the cold.


He sighed knowing he would eventually have to do or say something, but he was damned if he knew what. He could come up with plans but when it came to talking, heart to heart type talking, well he sucked and he knew it. Face was the one with the smooth words, the charm, the 'trust me, I'm fine,' smile. But he wasn't, not this time.


Hannibal had spent years learning the quirks of his mens' personalities. He could read the cry for help in Murdock's brown eyes and hear the concerned tone to B. A.'s growl, (the sergeant had a whole vocabulary of growls whose meanings he had learned over the years) and it was easy for him to see that the kid was hurting bad.


He had discovered long ago that when Face was hurt inside or out, he would clam up, withdraw into himself and pretend that everything was fine. Hannibal often wondered if that was truly a defense mechanism on Faces part or just some scam to exasperate the hell out of him. He had lost track of the times when he thought the team was in the clear only to realize he had a wounded lieutenant on his hands.


Hannibal thought back to memories of his own dad. He hadn't talked much, but had seemed to say all the important things at the right time. He remembered a sort of gruff affection. His dad had always stood up for what he believed in and taught Hannibal not to give in when he was in the right. No, he and his dad had not needed to talk much; they both knew they were loved. Looking at the forlorn figure outside, however, Hannibal knew his memories weren't going to help his lieutenant.


Hannibal felt a flare of anger within him, a dad was supposed to love and protect his child. A dad was someone who taught you how to think through life's problems, or if that didn't work fight through them. You taught your boy to fight smart, think outside the rules and regulations, to never give up and do whatever it took to survive.


You helped your boy get through the rough spots or if need be you held him through them. Hannibal thought grimly back to the camps. He had held Face after he had been humiliated, tortured and raped by the VC. He had told him it was going to be alright, even though he hadn't seen how it could ever be right again; he had demanded, cajoled and begged him to hold on till the plan came together.


He had done what he had thought was best for Face, for all of them, he had made the hard choices. It had been his idea to go over the wall at Fort Bragg and God knows it wasn't supposed to end here at Langley with Stockwell but when did his plans ever go quite the way he expected? He had taken care of them though, got them through the first hard months of hiding and adjusting to life on the run, not to mention finding Murdock and making sure he got the care he needed at that time.


A dad was supposed to be there when his boy needed him; Bancroft had abandoned Face not once but twice because as far as Hannibal was concerned death wasn't an excuse. A.J. Bancroft just didn't deserve a man like Face to be his son, and the kid sure as hell deserved better. He was smart, brave and creative and Hannibal was proud to call him a friend and his lieutenant.


He wanted to tell Face that he hadn't done anything wrong, that none of this was his fault. He wanted to say that any man would be proud to call Templeton Peck his son. He wanted to tell the kid he didn't give himself enough credit. Bancroft had been a fool to have waited so long to try to make peace with his children.


Hannibal stood puffing on his cigar and thinking, he had no trouble going through the front door when the situation called for it but this needed a bit of finesse. He would wait and lay out his strategy, make sure the words would come out right and his true feelings about Bancroft wouldn't. Bancroft was Faces father and Hannibal would respect that but he didn't have to like it. He was about to turn away and go back into the living room when he saw it.


He had been looking at Faces profile, watched as the kid looked down, eyes closed. A trick of the evening light revealed a single teardrop that slid down his cheek. Hannibal saw that tear and completely forgot about strategy or getting the words right. His kid was hurting and he slid open the glass and went through the patio door to be with him.



The End


Through The Patio Door by Englishspirit



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