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This page last viewed: 2017-07-20 and has been viewed 1312 times
Warnings: Light Slash (nothing explicit)
Thanks To: Emma Stark for getting me thinking about how I would use a strobe light effect to tell a story, & to Fingers for putting me in the mood to finish it.
Summary: Murdock has a dream
Comments: Very welcome
Disclaimer: The A-team don't belong to me, neither does 'a momentary lapse in reason' they remain creations of other people.
Jargon note: 'Piaffe' is a term used in dressage when a horse trots on the spot, it's a very elegant and complex move.
Murdock lay in Face's arms unable to sleep, he was restless. Unwelcomed
emotions drowned his exhausted body, he turned and buried his face in the chest
beside him. Nope still not comfortable. Well that was inaccurate, he was, there
was no where else he'd rather be, he was just restless. He sighed, the silence
was stifling. He turned again, reached out to the stereo on the floor, turned
the volume to a fraction above silence and pressed play. The sound of a rowing
boat on a still lake creaked into the room. Murdock's head flopped down beside
the bed to join his trailing arm. It was 'A Momentary Lapse In Reason', the
Pink Floyd album Face had given him. Murdock smiled from his downward gaze,
Face had said it described him perfectly.
Face stirred without really waking and pulled Murdock roughly back into his
arms then breathed into the back of his shoulder, soft air that smelt of him,
he traced his fingers lightly over Murdock's pulse that was evident throughout
his body. Damn! Even in his sleep Face still made Murdock gasp his breath.
The rowing boat soothed over him, but he still couldn't sleep and there was no
waking Face. 'Ok, focus, focus, focus' he said to himself. He had been told
that if he focused on a single item he could relax, it had worked before, why
not now? He starred with enlarged pupils at a stray thread of spider's web on
the wall beside the bed, it was so close, perhaps it was an eyelash that had
merely lost it's grip, the nights natural lights was hardly illuminating, his
eyes contracted and swelled at the concentration. What ever it was, it was a
thing to look at, an unmoving thing that would help him go to sleep. Pine's a
very calming colour, but it's was too bright for here, the texture of the sheet
beneath him, the heaviness of the padded duvet above him, the body beside him
gently lifting and falling in a rhythmic motion that matched the light
caresses. Murdock pushed them all away, visualising himself in the centre of
his head, a black empty space with life pushing in. Every time it would, he
stood up and pushed the wall back, return and settle upon his gaze. He saw a
pink and purple flame dance about him, it wasn't hot but it did warn off the
invaders. He decided it could stay, it had come from the centre and not the
edge after all. He saw the single thread before him, Face faded away, his
touch still real but no longer a distraction. Only the thread existed as the
music began to form a landscape.
A black satin cloth flew out in all directions from under him and rippled into
the distance, forming great mountains at the pinnacle of his thought. The
surface was uncultured and sharply smooth. Murdock sat alone, an insignificant
being only able to blink at the sanctuary of the sky so far away.
"Into the distance, a ribbon of black
Stretched to the point of no turning back."
But the ribbon was here, tied around Murdock, binding him from the wake filled
world, but it couldn't stop him from hearing.
He could see face now as he threw his arms around him. How long had it been
since they first...... It didn't matter, they had the night and he had a ribbon
Where had Face gone? That voice wouldn't let him stay, he was moved to the left
at a page before.
"A soul in tension that's learning to fly
Condition grounded but determined to try."
Decker was closing in, Face and Murdock alone in a dark bar, trapped. This was
a chance. As the troops burst in with no where to hide, Murdock reacted,
covered Face and kissed him. Lips froze as shock consumed him, Face wasn't
faking, he was leading the dance. Decker glanced and left with no clue.
The moment was not to be savoured though, he was lifted and pulled by his
middle to a morning's sunlight.
"It's a sin that somehow, light is changing to shadow
And casting it's shroud, over all we have known"
Murdock saw Hannibal eye them suspiciously. How could they tell him? He
wouldn't understand. Murdock didn't understand. It had just happened, but the
Face had made it happen again, and again, a little further, inching him away
from implosion and further into the depths of trusted confusion. Speechless
they united in a.....
'silent accord', a distant voice whispered from beyond his furthest point,
Murdock shivered feeling the memory of his cold deceit. There was nothing to
tell because they never spoke, not of 'it' anyway. But consenting themselves to
each other, Murdock had felt, his thoughts trailed as he tried to put words to
his feeling, maybe that's why they never spoke? He looked to the sky and was
replied with the words that had described his first flight, 'suspended
animation in his state of bliss'.
Not really his words more his guides, but words were of little value here, so
the mesh was welcomed as the guide took him for a test. Payment for the gift of
"I have always been here,
I have always looked out from behind these eyes.
It feels like more then a life time"
What was it about 'Nam? Why did it foundate his life? Why was he here now
looking at himself, trying to catch his attention. He followed his gaze, up
there, way up there lay the air that formed his house, his home. He watched
himself climb, rooted to the ground in a desperate attempt to lift to join
himself, to warn his past self.
"Don't go home, it's not your house!!!" His mind screamed out, but his squeak
was drowned by the rotor.
It had already happened, why did it tease him now? Tugging him back to that
first day, always returning to the frightened child, so scarred of the ground
beneath his feet. Blood stained and sweaty he'd climbed in, flapped his wings
and taken himself to the only place that made sense. He was only following
orders, why did the simple action haunt him? No matter where he was, it was
always there, just waiting for him to leap into. So why didn't he? his mind let
go of the hope to elevate. He saw the dawn that to fly he first had to fall.
His spirit dropped into himself and then he was there, holding the child's head
high in the sky as adrenaline threatened to make his former self go blind, he
showed himself the way down to the grunts. They barreled on, disrespected his
feathers as he was attacked. Beached on the ground he touched the back of the
child's head, resting his hand on the top of his neck, protecting the door to
his soul, his soul that 'Nam so desperately wanted.
What was it about 'Nam? The sky was still there, it was still his home, someone
had just moved the furniture.
He looked about him, quiet filling the space he inhabited now. Yes his
furniture was moved again, this time he had helped and left himself adrift on
the window's ledge.
"Invisible Transfers and long distance calls
Hollow laughter in marble halls"
Yes it was now, he could see the surface, he hovered for a moment. Was it
really a place he wanted to be? There was uncertainty here, depths of
unexplained territory that reached beyond all plausible thought. But what lay
out there? Up there, there would be more then just him. The surface was
inviting though. Vaguely aware of the soft rhythmic stroking, he lurked like a
guilty child forced to make a choice. He saw the dim light of the surface which
would mean he would be alone, singled out by the simple action of opening his
eyes. It was so close now, Murdock could cut the ribbon of unconscious sleep
that had penetrated his head with a single focused blow.
Blow? Blow. Wind blows. Wind whistles, speed, adrenaline, force, power blows.
He wanted to leave with it. Feel the ice forming on the tips of his wings and
swoop into the warm current that would ride him home. The surface was lost now
in distant amnesia. He was flying away from reason and any reality, far away
from opening his eyes. But he could still hear, he could always hear. His
rejection rewarded by the wind that whispered his grace.
"Can't keep my eyes form the circling sky,
Tongue tied and twisted just an earth bound misfit. I."
Invincible now. A super hero with the cloak of any flight mechanical. Love was
left in distance at the taste of flight. He was a child again, before the war,
a real child re-dreaming of wings to lift him away. His own to fly like a
vicious bird of prey, agile, powerful, speeded and riotous. Surfing the currents
with a deft flick of his tipped feathers. Seeing everything in a kaleidoscope of
information. Flying far from feeling and choosing where to be, which real to
live. His decision, the choice that was control, his own to protect and use
with a reverence guided only by undiluted emotion. His choice of whether to
piaffe or blitzkrieg as he thrashed through the sky, or to light up the air as
he filtered this power though his fragile body at the mercy of all that was
him. Free and unteathered, the sun so close to his back switched heat to
energy, beating his wings as he picked up speed, attacking in an arrowed dive
to grasp the air. Loose and alone, a sovereign to his thoughts and this dream,
without the cumbersome reality to catch and drag him down. With love confirmed
his desire was elevated. Obeying only his partner, the sky that held him in a
sultry embrace. So close to this high spirits might, his love that would never
let him fall.
A small tug was all it took to pierce his torrent. Murdock stopped with a
suddenness as though he had never moved and looked down, just long enough to
hold his attention.
"A fatal attraction holding me fast. How
Can I escape this irresistible grasp?"
There was the other one now. The sky had to share him with the arms that had
wrapped themselves around Murdock's sleeping body far below. His spirit watched
with adoration and curiosity at the couple below, and lost a little height.
Face's touch reeled Murdock's senses. He was at the mercy of his storm now, a
whirlwind of doubt encompassed his mind. No words were ever spoken, nor
betrayed. Just the simple binding of two lives reacting in fueled passion and
sleeping in silent security, even if the security betrayed a hint of falseness
The ground wasn't really that bad when Face held him. A calmness passed over
him, a shadow washing his soul. He continued to look down distracted from his
flight and sank a little lower. Watching Face stroke his sleeping body's back
as they slept, nuzzling his lips into Murdock's face and hair, entwining their
legs to tether him down and bind him in sleep. Murdock felt the distant
comforting restraint pull him a lower still in small feathered grasps, and
remembered the first night Face had stayed. He had lashed out at him in a sleep
filled fear, hurting his protector as the evidence was presented to him in the
dawn of the next day. But now it was better, his fear dared not betray this
sanctity of union Murdock now cherished. But just in case, Face held him. In
return Murdock committed his watching high to wait for him, wait for Face to
speak first, to guide him to the next unwalked step. Murdock had never walked
in anything, but he would learn and constrain himself for Face. They both held
lust, that was always satisfied only to linger on into the yearning for the
next touch, glance or taste. Face's sleeping touch followed Murdock's slowing
breath down his body. He tolerated his watching self refusing to regroup with
his sleeping body below for a few moments longer. Soon he would be able to
punch through the paper ribbon and open his eyes. He looked at the vision that
would greet his foggy sight. Would face let him fall? Or make the push himself?
Perhaps he would as the thought had promised cushion him as the sky he had
mastered had done so many times before.
It hadn't been so long since he'd stumbled into the sleep filled world, the
tape still played, humming low into the room. Exhaustion should have consumed
his conscious but instead, a mellow excitement coursed through him. He melted
like syrup on hot pancakes, sinking low into the last stage, turning only to
switch off the music before he re-joined his body. He was one again, the many
rooms in his cadged mind not needing to be visited, not in this cycle anyway.
His body flinched as a small thread of panic ran through him, asleep and lost
now. But Face quickly re-enforced his touch to soothe and calm him until they
Murdock breathed into the well of Face's throat, his head securely planted in
the sky of the other's chest he now clung to. His silent lover's motion brought
Murdock to the surface of the morning, dawn now firmly in place. This was all
just a lapse in reason like the words had told him, but reason had no place
here, not now. Hot pancakes with syrup would be good now, at least after he
would let Face wake him.
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