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“Waiting” Sung by Jamie O’Neal

"I'm Still Waiting" Sung by Jamie O'Neal

Lyrics by O'Neal, Drew and Smith

 

What I'm feeling, time is gonna heal it
I've been hearing that for so long now
They say I'll move on, got to try and be strong
Life will go on, I'll get through this somehow
Oh, but how, when

 

I'm still waiting
For you to come back
I'm aching
For you to walk through that door
And hold  me once more
But you won't
Waiting

 

It was a Sunday, we buried you in the rain
I never knew pain 'til the first night alone
Opened your closet, breathed you in and lost it
The truth of it, baby, finally hit home
No, you're not coming home but

 

I'm still waiting
For you to come back
I'm aching
For you to walk through that door
And hold me once more
But you won't
Waiting

 

Wish you could talk to me somehow
Tell me, what do I do now
I'm still waiting

 

I'm still waiting
For you to come back
I'm aching
For you to walk through that door
And hold  me once more
But you won't
Waiting

 

I'm aching
For you to walk through that door
And hold me once more
But you won't (you won't)
Yeah, I know (I know)
That you won't (you won't)
Still I go on
Waiting.

 

Still Waiting

By Jenny

 

 

Rating: PG

Summary: Song fic. Face struggles with his confused feelings after a funeral. And discovers the feelings were mutual.

Warnings: Slashy/angsty thoughts but that's all. Character death.  Also, sap and song fic…. I can't help it…. It just won't go away.

 

ˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆˆ

 

Face leaned over the rail of the balcony of their high-rise apartment…   No, his apartment… the other man was gone.  Face lived alone now.  For the first time in two years, he lived alone.  They'd picked the place together, laughing about the women and the parties they planned on having now that they were free.  Staring out at the LA skyline, through the cloudy, evening dusk filtered by the smog, he could just see the stars beginning to peak through the dying drizzle of rain.  A cool wind blew over his face and closing his eyes, he thought back.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Two years ago, Stockwell had miraculously come up with the pardons for the team and Frankie and they had returned to living in LA once again.  Frankie with his family, Murdock in his own little house near the VA and Dr. Richter.  BA had an apartment near the youth center, but he was often known to come and go between LA and Chicago, and his mother.  All of the team was trying to convince his momma to relocate to LA so that they could take care of her.

 

Hannibal and Face had teamed up, buying into a high-rise apartment complex and launching themselves, headfirst, back into their old lives.  Bad movie monsters, worse scripts and cheesy directors occupied Hannibal's day.  Face was immediately wrapped up in some detailed money making scheme and could often be seen with at least one or two blondes on his arm at any time.

 

They had made big plans, separate plans, for each of their newly reclaimed lives, to make up for their lost years in Stockwell's clutches and in evading the army.  Just why those plans never came to be neither of them could say… bad timing, bad weather, bad vibes?  Whatever, but at the end of each day, the two men always wound back up at home, together.  They'd profess fatigue and weariness.  Joke about getting old and lazy, then after ignoring the uneasiness of their own excuses, settle in for a night of TV and often ended up dozing on opposite ends of the couch.  They enjoyed their home and the effort they'd put into making it a place they could each be comfortable in had payed off.

 

Once, early in the years after the pardons, they'd been woken by an impromptu visit from Murdock who'd jokingly called them an old married couple.  No one understood just why Face and Hannibal reacted so defensively, least of all themselves.  Murdock, Face, and Hannibal had stared at each other for some minutes before mutually, silently, as only men who had known each other for decades could, they had decided to laugh it off and head back to the old TV movie and fresh popcorn.  After an hour, Murdock left and Face and Hannibal had turned in, awkwardly saying goodnight, neither of them sure why they were so uncomfortable.  After all, they had spent years of co-habiting off and on in much worse circumstances.

 

Staring over the railing, past the cold drizzle and smog, Face remembered that they had eventually gotten over the occasional awkward moment and had just been two old friends, living together.  That's all they were, friends, good friends.  Just because he now felt like he'd never be able to go back into the apartment they'd shared didn't mean anything.  Just because he'd never be able to sit on the couch and not imagine seeing Hannibal's white, sock clad feet propped close to his argyle covered ones on the oak coffee table didn't mean anything, did it?  Just because the thought of having to go into the room Hannibal had slept in and deciding what to do with his things made him want to shrivel up and die as well, that didn't mean he'd lost his mind, just his really good friend.

 

"Good Lord," Face scrubbed his hands over his eyes and spoke aloud, "It's not like we were married!"  Making up his mind, he walked resolutely to the balcony doors and into the apartment.  Going through the dark smoke-gray and white living area and into the hall that lead to the bedrooms, he spoke to himself sternly, "Peck, this is just something that has to be done and you might as well get it done, now."

 

Even as he reached for the doorknob to Hannibal's private living area, he heard the doorbell peal and he breathed out an enormous sigh of relief.  Not realizing how thankful he was for the interruption or that his expression showed it, he headed for the front door.  Without thinking to use the peek hole, he just flung open the door and stared, wildly, at his visitors.  The two men stood there, damp and ruffled from their trip from the parking lot in the wind and the rain.  Exhaustion etched their faces and their eyes sported bone tired, red-rimmed lids.

 

BA and Murdock exchanged concerned looks and then focused on their friend. He looked bad.  His hair was disheveled and his face was tight.  The blue eyes had gone gray and were just as red-rimmed as their own.  His hands were bunched at his side in fists.  He looked ready to either explode or implode and no matter which way the blew, out or in, he would withdraw from them; they knew it would be a tough job to hang on to him, physically and emotionally.

 

"Hey Faceman, thought you might want a little company tonight."  BA held out his hand, fist closed, ready to exchange friendly greeting with his brother.  Face never moved, just stared at them like he hadn't seen them in years.  BA dropped his closed hand and stepped into the doorway.

 

"Yeah, muchacho, I know you said you just wanted to be alone, but well, we didn't, so just humor us, okay?"  Murdock applied his best 'reverse psychology' and waited on Face to react.

 

"Uh…. Hey… yeah… come on in… I was just going to…" Face stopped, gulped and waved them in.  They were frequent visitors, of course and were comfortable in the place.  He followed them vacantly to the couch and waited on them to sit.  When they didn't sit, he finally blinked and remembered what his goal for the evening had been.  "Um, you know, maybe it's good that you are here…"

 

BA and Murdock looked relieved that he wasn't going to fight them.  Their relief was short lived as Face continued to ramble and began to walk back toward Hannibal's room.  "I'm just going to start sorting through his things.  You know, decide what he'd want us to keep and send the rest on to his brother."  He blindly opened the door and flung it open and walked into the very masculine room.  A double bed stood in the center of the room, covered in hunter green bedding and one lone pillow.  The curtains were of the same shade and were open to allow natural light in.  Just now the early moon cast a murky glow over the dark tan carpeting and Face quickly reached for the wall switch and flooded the space with artificial brightness.  The closet was shut tightly and next to it, the dresser was bare but for his aftershave and a hairbrush. 

 

Face never paused in his fast monologue as they crossed the distance.  "BA, I bet he'd want you to have that gold watch you got him for his birthday a few years ago… and Murdock, I just know that you should take his humidor.  He loved that thing when you gave it to him for Christmas that first year in Nam… carried it everywhere we went, did you know that?"

 

"Face… slow down buddy, there's no need to do this now… I mean, we just buried him today…" Murdock interrupted and tried to grasp his best friend's shoulder.

 

And the explosion came and Face lashed out.

 

"You think I don't know that?  I was there, remember?  I watched them put him in the ground, Murdock…" He pushed Murdock back and panted as rage unexplainable, came over him.  He stepped after the other man and would have reached for him, except for BA coming between them and speaking in a low but firm voice.

 

"Stop it, Face.  Hannibal wouldn't want this."

 

Staring at his only two friends in the world, Face realized what he'd just done.  "Oh, God, Murdock, I'm sorry…"

 

"It's okay… I just don't want you… don't want us to push this any faster than we have to.  We don't have to make this decision now… just give it a day or two, Face."  Murdock pleaded.

 

"I don't think I can wait, Murdock… it hurts too bad to know that his things are here and that he's never coming back to use them…" Face pleaded for understanding of his own reasons. 

 

Brown eyes looked deep into gray-blue and the two friends measured each other.  Accepting that Face wasn't going to be deferred from his mission, Murdock relented.   "Okay, but we're doing this together… and when it gets to be too much, we stop, together."  BA nodded in agreement and swallowing hard, Face agreed.

 

"Ok… you know I can't even figure out why I feel so lost… I know I'm going to miss him… we've all been together for nearly twenty years now.  You're going to miss him, too… I'm carrying on like I lost a life long lover or something."  Face said this all in one breath and even as he drew in a deep lungful of oxygen, he flung open the door to Hannibal's closet. 

 

The scent hit him like a tidal wave… Hannibal's scent was on everything in the closet.

His smell, a combination of male musk, aftershave and cigar smoke clung to every article of clothing and it reached out and grabbed Face by the throat, taking his breath until he thought his chest would burst.  His legs trembled and he gasped, desperate for air, only to be taken under again by the lingering presence of Colonel John 'Hannibal' Smith. 

 

From beside him, Murdock watched as his face drained of color and sweat beaded on his forehead.  He saw Face's hand clench, white-knuckled, on the door knob and saw, as if in slow motion, exactly when Face's legs gave out and he started his descent to the floor.  Murdock and BA reacted instinctively and caught him, under the arms and eased him to his knees on the floor.  They each kneeled beside him; Murdock reaching out and encircling him in his strong arms.  BA crouched behind, ready to support them both, if needed.    

 

"Easy, Face, we got ya'."  BA shook his head sadly and breathed in the now fading, familiar scent of his leader and friend.  He patted Face's back and swallowed his own sorrow.

 

"Oh, God… what am I going to do without him?"  Face murmured almost to himself.  "I… oh…" Tears began to fall, unchecked and for the first time, down his handsome face.  For three days now, he'd been strong and silent, leading the team through this minefield of emotion.  But now, he just fell apart, lost without his familiar anchor.  "Why?  Why did he do it?"  He reached out and caressed the familiar safari jacket.  Its material was soft from wear and he could have sworn he felt Hannibal's warmth still on it.  Other familiar things hung neatly on hangers; his shoes: dressy, casual, cowboy boots and combat boots, lined the floor neatly, like soldiers in a row.

 

"He couldn't have refused to help Tia anymore than we could, Face.  You know that.  That's the kind of man he was.  When she called, he had to go and so did we."  Murdock spoke, trying to calm the man in his arms.  He cradled him against his chest and locked eyes with BA over Face's head. 

 

"He didn't have to take that bullet, he could have let it hit its target…" Face whimpered, lost in his memories of that horrible morning.

 

"You were the target, Face and you know he never would have let you take a bullet if he could help it… he would have done it for any of us."  Murdock eased him away and looked into his tear soaked eyes.

 

"But why did it have to be for me?  I'd rather die than be alive without him…I love him." Face trailed off as his own words hit him.  "Oh God…. What am I saying?"  He looked up at Hannibal's jacket and felt guilt wash over him.  Hannibal would have been ashamed of him for the thoughts he'd just had… ashamed and angry.  "I'm sorry, Hannibal… I didn't mean it."  He begged forgiveness from his colonel and his friends.  "BA, Murdock, I don't know what I'm saying…"

 

"Yes, you do Faceman and it's nothin' to be ashamed of.  You do love him and he loved you, too."  He chuckled low under his breath at Face's wide eyes.  "I hoped he'd tell you when you moved in here together, but I guess not."  The big man shook his head sadly as he realized that the two men had never realized their love for one another. 

 

"He loved me?"  Face's voice was almost child-like as he questioned them.

 

"Yep, that's a roger, Faceguy.  Any fool could see it… I even saw it."  Murdock sadly agreed with BA's assessment of the situation.

 

Face kneeled on the rough carpeting, staring at what was left of the man he'd known and respected for so long.  He felt his friends around him and let their words sink in and thought about their meanings.  It was true… he did love Hannibal and he had for so long; he just hadn't seen it for what it was…  All the women they'd traipsed past each other had meant nothing.  He would give up all the memories of every one of them now, for just one more of Hannibal.  One more memory that was special, one more thought of them together, as they could have been but never were.

 

"I've been waiting all this time, for someone to love me… for someone that I could love."  Face stood shakily and reached out and grabbed a handful of the safari jacket.  He pulled it off the hanger and buried his face in its folds.  He inhaled Hannibal and suddenly saw his smiling face and sparkling blue eyes looking at him over the van seats.  He felt the familiar and now somehow intimate brush of his hand as they handed off guns, ammo, and a hundred other things each day.  'You were right here all along…I just kept waiting on someone else…guess I'm still waiting.'

 

Tucking the jacket under his arm, Face firmly closed the closet door and turned to look at BA and Murdock.  "Some other time, ok?"

 

"Yeah, Faceman, some other time…" 

 

Together they walked out of the room and into the living room, where they sat in comfortable silence, each of them lost in memories and thoughts of the one they no longer had.  Friend.  Leader.  Teacher. 

 

Lover? 

 

Face thought this through… for that he was still waiting and he now knew that he had a very high standard to measure against.

 

So he'd go on waiting… and hoping… and wishing….

 

 

THE END

                           


Still Waiting by Jenny

 

 


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