Please Send This Author Comments!
This page last viewed: 2017-12-07 and has been viewed 1823 times
Summary: Murdock has a bad day
Warnings: Mild swearing and v depressing.
Disclaimer: The character's aren't mine, but hey, sue if you want, I'm skint...
Author's note: We really only see Murdock when he's manic, but there's a flip side of the coin.
Today I'm tired; so tired I can't walk or move none, just want to lie here.
No reason for it; no change in my meds, no one been upsetting me, haven't been doing much of anything lately, 'cept playing my video games,Ý seeing the docs and painting pictures. Just want to lay here, lay here and wait. Can't sleep, neither. Too tired.
I haven't felt like this in a good long while. Last time, though, was a time
Hannibal needed me. I just couldn't; Face got in here, took one look at me, and told me I was stayin' put. He musta been right; I didn't even want to argue.
I guess they know I get like this; they just never talk about it. It might
be they figure I'll tell them if I want to talk; might be they don't want to
know. Most days I'd come down on they're looking out for me; my *head* knows that. Black dog day today; everything's mixed up, it doesn't feel like that's why, today. But even if they wanted to talk to me, I couldn't, not today.
They didn't say much about what happened, that time, without me. Amy let it slip, though. Face needed two new caps, Hannibal got punched up pretty good too. They were a man short for the job. What hurt was them tryin' to hide it from me; like if they tell me I let them down, I'll break. You get tough, in here. Some days.
She's due to come visit today too.. I think. What day is it now? Today or
tomorrow, anyways. And that means I gotta haul my sorry ass out of bed, and get cleaned up, and think of things to say to her so's no one will know I'm feelin' this way.
I think I'll call her. I think I'll call her and say not to come. Can't tell
her *why* though, I'll need to think of something. A new treatment session, or something. The thought of getting up and going to the 'phone, of tryin' to sound cheerful, even for five minutes... that's a lot, today.
Doc's gonna be in to see me soon, if I don't get up. There's plenty in here
need help more than me; jumpers, seen a few of them; then there's them with arms or legs missing; them that lie up and shout all night; some as never talk to a soul. Some don't get visitors ever, either they got no one to come see them, or they told them all not to come. No muchachos. I figure those guys are a sight worse off than me. I know that. I just wish I could get myself together enough to get out of this damn bed and get up and start proving it.
They were talkin' about EST again. Don't hurt as much as you think it's
gonna. Not at all, hardly. Sure feel sick afterwards though. So I don't
wanna see the docs. Trouble is, they tried me on just about every damn kind of pill they got. And talkin' isn't helpin' my brain none.
Maybe it is; maybe I just can't see it 'cos I'm in the middle of it, and it
goes so slow. I can't say for sure; not today.
I guess I don't help myself. Some of the guys in here live in a fantasy
world; still out there fighting, or never went. Or in their mind, out saving
the world every day.
Days like this I wonder if I really *do* go out; days like this I think I
might be as much of a dreamer as they are. 'Cept the doctors tell me I go
missing a lot; and I broke in and got my records one night. I get a lot of
cuts and bruises you can't get round here -- not with the blunt knives and
the furniture all rounded corners. I'm doin' something when I go out. I
should start taking things back; things to remind me what I've been up to.
Things to keep for days like these.
Days like this, I wonder what I'd ever do if I got out of here. Today it's
an 'if', not a when. Who's gonna trust me flying, now? I wouldn't give me a job. And if I can't fly....
It's the one thing I got; the one thing I can do better'n anyone else. The
one time I'm really *free*.
Not much else going on out there for me. No Chiquita; no family as I'd
impose myself on. Have you met our son? Yes, he's just back from the asylum. Has a successful career with a band of known refugees from the law. We're so proud.
At least I got some money; Face's seen to that. So I guess I wouldn't really *have* to work. That's if the government don't catch up and impound it. Now, Face says they can't do that, that my cash is clean, and they can't trace it. But then, it's not like all his scams run smoothly, is it? He wouldn't see me stuck, I know that. But I don't know as I'd want to rely on him. Not 'cos it's him; I don't know as I'd want to rely on anybody.
Only things I know much about are flying, and crazy folk. And I spent enough time with crazy folk, I don't want to spend the rest of my life looking after them, even if they'd let me.
They got all kinds of things they do in here, meant to train you up for
work. Not basket weaving, exactly, but maybe just one step up from it. Only jobs I see guys gettin' is workin' for the government. I done enough of that. Government hasn't been a friend of mine. Driving, maybe. I'm a good enough driver when I get the chance. But that's all going places, and I get to feelin' like I want to put down some roots, somewhere, sometime.
What'd be real nice, would be if I had some place waiting for when I get
out. Someplace that was just mine. Someplace for all my stuff, someplace safe. That I could get to know some before I went to live there all the time. I might ask Face. But not today; not doing anything today. Today's grey. Today the thoughts are going in a straight line, but the wrong direction. I don't know what's worse; this straight line down, or when they all loop in on each other.
Most days I feel something; today, it's just numb. I can hear everyone else outside in the corridors, running and talking and sometimes shouting. I need them all to go away; I want some peace, there's never any damned peace in this place.
Gonna sleep now. Close my eyes and wait for it to pass.
Might be a long wait.
Please Send This Author Comments!