Fading Away
Hannibal entered the small room, unaware that he sat there.
He moved over, sat down beside him, at first saying nothing. After a few moments, neither man speaking, Hannibal decided to bite the bullet.
"You okay?" He asked, slightly concerned at Murdock's uncharacteristic stillness.
"I'm tired." Murdock stated outright. No hidden agenda's or beating about the bush.
"Well, we've all been working hard recently. You should reconsider holding down a job as well as the missions with us." He said.
"I don't mean like that." Murdock said, voice quiet.
"I'm not following." Hannibal stated.
"I'm tired of this."
"Working for Stockwell's no one's ideal situation, Murdock. But needs must."
"I don't mean Stockwell."
"The team?"
Murdock didn't answer. He didn't need to.
"You don't have to come on these missions with us, if that's what you want."
For the first time since Hannibal had entered the room, Murdock looked at him.
He saw a man who looked much older than he remember in his minds eye.
Murdock looked away.
He knew for a long time that Murdock's very person was changing, he'd discussed it with BA and Face before now, how his jokes and those crazy stunts he used to pull seemed to have been replaced by a something they weren't sure of.
It came to him then that he was thinking more about the pardons than his teams welfare. Aware of his last words spoken he had all but told Murdock it was either put up with the situation or get out.
Murdock was as much a part of this team as any one else. He had freedom to a degree, but he'd never leave the team high and dry.
The pilot stood up.
"Murdock. I'll sort it." Hannibal said, a promise.
Murdock moved over to the door. He stopped short of leaving the room.
Turning his head, he looked at Hannibal.
"It's too late."
And he left.
The End