Disclaimer: Nope, don't own.
A/N- totally inspired by my sisters shirt. *sighs* I love this pairing. And head colds. I seem to write more when I'm sick.
The first time, Face is pulling on his boot getting ready for one of Hannibal's crazy schemes only to feel something wedged into the very tip. He pulls the boot off, reaches in (wary about what it is) and pulls out a scrap of crumpled paper. In familiar, messy handwriting is the word rawr.
Face blinks, grins and writes it off to Murdock being Murdock and shoves the piece of paper in his coat pocket, forgotten for the moment.
The second time, Face is just getting out of the shower, skin pink and wrinkled and feeling more relaxed than he has in what feels like forever. He wraps a towel around his head, makes a halfhearted attempt at drying himself and secures another towel around his hips. He's about to head out into the room he's sharing with Hannibal when something catches his eye.
Taped to the mirror is a piece of hotel stationary, damp from the steam, and on it is written rawr. Face takes a moment to feel irritated, first with the fact that he didn't hear Murdock come in and then second, and possibly a little delayed, that Murdock was wandering around the bathroom while Face was in the shower. It wasn't like they were sharing a room this time.
He grips the paper and (carefully) tears it down, clutching it in his hand as he emerges from the bathroom in a cloud of steam.
"You better have saved some hot water." Hannibal grouses from one of the beds but doesn't look up from the re-run of All in the Family. Face rolls his eyes because even in this shitty hotel, it takes a lot for the hot water to run out. So instead he asks,
"Was Murdock in here?"
Hannibal half shrugs but Face catches the smile lurking at the corner of his lips. Great, he thinks, digging through his bag for a clean set of clothes so he can go track down his- their- pilot, they're all out to get him.
The third time, he's escorting a gorgeous blonde back to her room with the promise of more. He's turning his charm up all the way, has his arm draped across her shoulders and she's leaning against him, fluttering long eye lashes framing green eyes at him. She reaches for her key and Face's eyes drift, taking in the area. And that's when he spots it. Stuck to the door is a hot pink sticky note. Face blinks, reaches out and pulls it off the door. Rawr it exclaims proudly, in the way only a sticky note can.
"What is it?" The blonde asks, peering over his shoulder. "Rawr?" She reads dubiously. And Face can't help it, he starts to laugh. The blonde laughs a little with him but stops abruptly when Face pulls away and turns back the way they came with the sticky note held in his hand, still chuckling to himself.
"Wait! Where are you going?" She calls after him. He doesn't reply, just keeps laughing quietly, mind a million miles away and high up in the sky in a helicopter with a crazy pilot. "Asshole!"
After that the notes start turning up everywhere- in his coat pocket, taped to the ceiling of BA's new van, even to his gun and somehow pulling out ones weapon when the shit hits the fan with a little piece of paper saying rawr doesn't exactly make one appear bad ass.
He keeps telling himself to ask Murdock about it, but something always comes up and he inevitably ends up forgetting.
That is, until Murdock takes a bullet meant for Face in a mission gone south (as a lot of their missions were want to do if he really thought about it).
BA is on his way in their get away van and Hannibal is providing cover fire but all Face can think is no no no no.
He catches the pilot as his knees buckle and half drags him back until they're behind a pile of wooden crates. He knows he's panicking, knows he's been trained for this situation- has been through this before- but this time it feels even worse. It feels like he's falling and there's no one there to catch him. There's no Murdock to swoop in and grab him.
His hands scrabble to get past the pilots jacket and plaid shirt to stem the blood flow.
"Hannibal!" He yells over the sound of gunfire. "We need to get out of here." He presses down harder, feels the material of Murdock's t-shirt grow wet and sticky with blood.
"Face." Murdock grits out, hands coming up to grab at the arms pressing down on his chest. "Face." He says again when Face just presses harder.
"You'll be fine, HM." He says and offers a shaky grin. They need to get the pilot out of there, need to get to a hospital, no, no- hospitals just asked questions, too many questions, especially about bullet wounds. He'd have to find a doctor. Or a surgeon. Someone.
"Face." Murdock says more insistently and grips his arms tighter. Face pulls himself together and out of his thoughts enough to focus on the green eyes staring up at him. "Rawr."
And it's so ridiculous that he can't help the laughter that escapes him, except that laughter sounds more like a sob to his own ears and he wonders when the situation got so far out of hand.
"We'll get you out of here." He murmurs because he isn't sure how he's supposed to reply to this. He still hasn't figured out what it means.
"Facey," Murdock smiles, but his eyes flutter and close and Face pushes harder on the wound. "Rawr." He says again, softly, almost like a sigh.
"No, come on buddy, you've got to stay awake. You've got to tell me what Rawr is supposed to mean." Face half pleads but Murdock's eyes stay closed.
And then BA shows up and they get the hell out of there.
It isn't until much later, after Face has found the one surgeon in the state that is willing to patch Murdock up discretely and Murdock is resting comfortably in their hotel room, a little loopy from painkillers that Face remembers to ask.
BA and Hannibal share a look and head out to find dinner but Face just moves from his seat at the end of the bed, up to lie next to his friend.
"So," He says, tangling their fingers together. "What does rawr mean?"
"Oh," Murdock offers a shy smile and squeezes his hand. "It means I love you in dinosaur."
Of course it does, Face thinks. Why wouldn't it?
Murdock's smile turns hesitant and Face realizes he doesn't have to think about what to say back, he already knows.
"Rawr." He says softly and presses a quick kiss to Murdock's temple, then carefully slides an arm around his waist and tangles their legs together. And the way Murdock shifts and curls against him, head coming to rest on his shoulder feels like the answer to so many questions he's had over the years, to that empty feeling after so many one night stands, to the resentment and hurt after Charissa. So he says it again. "Rawr."