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This page last viewed: 2017-10-17 and has been viewed 1212 times

Title: Plan

Plan

by EmmaPeel

 

Rating: G

Warnings: Mild swearing, and either happy or depressing depending how you look at it.

Summary: Murdock thinks about leaving the VA for real

 

 

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Stop it. Stop bundling me into the room. I don't want to be touched.

 

What I want to do is hit you and tell you to get off of me, because I'm glad to be back here. You know that, you know I always come home.

 

Back. I always come back.

 

See, but if I yell at you, or push you, you're gonna clamp a hand over my mouth, or you're gonna push back. And then we can't play the game anymore. You know, the one where I pretend to be angry that you're having to take me back in, and you pretend you want me here.

 

Yeah. I know you don't, not any of you. I've been here too long. I've been here longer than you. Makes you feel old, don't it? Damn sure makes me feel old.

 

Throw me in, then. Throw me in, lock the door. Wanna throw away the key? Might as well.

 

But you don't *need* to lock it. I don't wanna go out. Don't wanna be legit. Don't wanna end up in some shitty run down hole of a place. BA. He seems happy enough there, never was a fancy fixin's find of a guy, but..

 

Hell, it's all someone else's tables and chairs, bits of things from bits of people. As for Face, hell, man, borrowin' people's stuff, never the same place from season to season, shit, he even wears other people's *clothes*.

 

Sometimes he must wear dead men's clothes. I just know it. Makes me feel sick. Least everything I got here's my own. Gotta use my cut for something. Yeah, you look at it and y'think it's junk. Comic books, videos, action figures, wacky ol' t-shirts, just to keep the crazy image going. Wouldn't raise ten bucks at a garage sale, the whole lot of it. But it's mine, dammit. It's mine.

 

Got a box under the bed of stuff Face gave me. Take it out when he comes round. I know it's not paid for, I know it's scammed, all of it. He never said, but I know. It's not right.

 

Went through a spell, there, stuff he gave me, I'd go and get another one, pay cash on the nail. Just so's I could have *clean* things around the place.

 

Didn't feel right though. That stopped pretty quick.

 

It's just *things*. Boxes and boxes and shelves full of *things*. And things don't mean anything.

 

I've got money put away, though. Plenty money. I don't know what they think I do with my cut; not like I got rent to pay, or food to buy. Nearly enough now. Nearly enough to buy myself a little place, way out of town, out in the country. Want a bit of land with it, big enough so's I can get a landing strip in. And BA, drives me mad he does, all his yellin' and shoutin'. But when all this is gone, I know what I'm gonna be doin', and he's gonna be a part of it.

 

He's honest, see. Hannibal's honest too, but we're talkin' about when Hannibal's gone. He'll be the first. Not so young any more, and if'n he gets his actin' going again, properly, he won't do this shit no more.

 

Face? Nah.

 

What I'm gonna do is start myself a business. Get a beautiful bird, silver, shining in the sun, all pretty. Yeah, it sounds crazy. BA an' me in business. Flying. S'why I haven't told him yet. He'll just think I gone plum over the edge. But when he sees the place, and the plans, and the money in the bank, then he'll know it's for real.

 

I can fly 'em, sure can. But I'm just a little guy. And I can't fix 'em none, either, those beautiful birds. Well, fix 'em some, but not like he can. And he'll spot it, when a job's not clean. They might try to put it past me, might try to strong arm me, but not BA.

 

And y'know, he wants to be a family guy. He'd love it. Loves kids. He's shy with the girls now, 'cos he's old fashioned. He wants to have something to offer a lady. Boy, can I ever understand that. Nothin' to give 'em now, no kind of a home, nothing secure.

 

But it'll be a big piece of land. He can build a little house out there, for him and the lady, and whoever else comes along. And she'll be a very lucky lady. He's a great guy. He doesn't always have the smarts, y'know, sometimes. But that's ok. I can do that for him. Thinks with his heart, and I like that. We've got a lot in common, BA an' me.

 

'Cept I can't work out what to do with Face. 'Cos he'll want to be in on it, but..

 

I don't want him there. Sounds bad, I know. Want him as a friend, sure. But honest jobs? He wouldn't know an honest job if it came and slapped his face with the bill of rights. And he sure ain't doin' my books.

 

He'd be a good uncle for the kids to have about the place, though. I guess.

 

Smart as I am, I can't figure what to do about him.

 

Yeah yeah, open the grill. Have a look at he lunatics in their cages. It ain't the freakin' zoo ya know. Can't be bothered eatin' the sheets to keep you amused tonight. I know you, you're just waitin' for an excuse to get me up to the observation ward for the night. So's you won't have to keep checkin' on the loon who escapes.

 

Got your fingers burned for that, didya? Got a caution for lettin' me get out? I bet ya did. Deserved it too. I know you, Nurse Johnston. Here for the money, only work nights 'cos it's that little bit extra. I seen how you treat 'em, the boys that're really sick. Get as many drugs in 'em as you can, get 'em locked away nice an' early. Always a quiet night, on your shift. 'Cept for me.

 

Like kids, some of 'em are. If you don't talk to them, get their brains goin', they're gonna stay aged five forever.

 

You'd like that, wouldn't ya? Keep a nice full wing. Keep your pay checks comin' in. And when I try and help the poor guys, when I go talk to them, when I play cards with 'em, or talk about goin' outside, try an' get 'em excited about seein' the trees, or walkin' on the grass, you come into their rooms and you escort me back to mine, like I'm the boogie man or somethin'.

 

Keep the brains shut down. Less effort that way, ain't it.

 

Well next time I'm goin' out, it's on *your* shift. And the time after, and the time after, 'til you get the message lady. 'Til you start treatin' people right, or you're gone.

 

I know which one my money's on.

 

You're all the same, you night nurses. All think you're somethin'. Working in here with the loons, you thinkin' you're somethin' special just 'cos you got more smarts than them. Then you can go home and make out you're doin' a service to the community, lookin' after the brave boys who were out gettin' all busted up for your country. You want to do something for the community lady? You learn to have a conversation. You learn to calm someone down without pumping drugs into them.

 

You get yourself a proper job, lady, and free this one up for someone who wants to do it.

 

Yeah, I hate being here. I sure do. 'Cept it's better than any other place I got to go right now.  Yeah, I could get a place. I could get a place tomorrow. If I wasn't the only one I see thinkin' 'bout tomorrow.

 

I'm not crazy any more. I haven't been crazy for a long time. Oh, I got stuff to work through. I like Doc Richter. He makes sense. He helps with that stuff. But it's nothing folk outside of here don't talk to their therapists about, nothin' at all.

 

I don't know, for sure, what the guys think. I reckon I do.

 

Hannibal, he likes me *acting* crazy. But he knows I can turn it on or off. S'why he trusts me.

 

BA, he gets angry with me 'cos he knows I act crazy and I'm not. Don't even know why I do it 'round him not more, 'cept it's got to be a habit. And I'm not ready for him to start lookin' at me a different way. Not until I got the plans drawn up. First he's gonna know is when we're drivin' up to the new place, an' I got all the papers ready. Can't wait for him to call me a 'crazy foo'' again. Then sit back an' watch as it all sinks in...

 

Face'd like me to be crazy still. Face is the one likes to look after me, pretend he knows why I'm actin' nuts, and use all them fancy pants long words of his, like he's a proper doctor. Likes wearing the white coat, Face does. Being someone else; someone he likes. He don't like himself much. Ah hell, I like the guy, I do. But he's all messed up, broken, and he won't let no one do nothin' about it. Guy won't help himself. What can you do?

 

Reckon him 'n Hannibal have it the wrong way round. Make Face an actor, that'd be his fortune. Nothin' he likes better than bein' someone else.

 

Nearly there, now. Nearly got enough put by. Nearly time for my miracle recovery. Just a waiting game.

 

Waiting for Hannibal to call it a day. 'Cept maybe he's waitin' for me to get better. I'll have to poke around that one awhile, figure out what's in his head. If he *has* a plan. Never known a man like him for not having a plan.

 

Just as well I got one.

 

 

END

 


Plan by Emma Peel

 

 


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