There was a knock on Murdock's bedroom door. He looked up from where he'd been colouring his toenails with Jiffy marker.

"Come in!" he called in falsetto. "Unless you're the Feds in which case this is a recorded message and no hablo ingles senor."

The door was shoved open. It was BA. Murdock tried to squash the part of his that was disappointed it wasn't Face. He liked BA too.

"Hey, Boscorita! What's the happy-haps?"

BA's lips did that funny tightening thing they did when Murdock knew he was counting to ten inside. Murdock counted along in his head too. ...seven...eight...nine...

"Need to talk to you, Fool."

Murdock gestured to the tiny empty spot on his bed amongst the clothes, rumpled sheets, magazines, crayons and one or two Hot Wheels cars. "Talk away! My ears were made to be holes for your troubles."

BA did the lip thing again. This time, Murdock mouthed along. ...six...seven...eight... While they were counting, BA shoved Murdock's detritus aside and sat beside him on the bed. He levelled the pilot with a Class 7B stare.

"Before I start," BA began, "I'm gonna lay it down: No crazy stuff. No puppets, no invisible pets and no weird accents. I wanna spend this whole time talking to James Murdock, not Sir Nigel whoever or Doctor Ralph Dinglebutt."

"Ralph Dahl-Botte, MD," corrected Murdock helpfully. "And Nigel's only a Lord." BA glared. Murdock made a zipping motion across his lips and threw away the key. He knew this must be serious if BA was using Murdock's real name. He didn't even know Bosco KNEW his first name.

At that thought, Murdock's stomach clenched and bad electricity staticked down his spine. What if this was about Face? What if Face was upset with him and had sent BA to say something? What if, oh god. What if Face was sick and couldn't bear to tell Murdock himself? He had been losing weight and looking a more grey shade of tanned lately... Oh god, Face was sick. Oh please let it be something minor. Please let him be okay. Please please please please please...

"Crazy?"

Whoops, fading out again. Murdock opened his mouth to respond but realised it was still locked shut. He nodded exaggeratedly and gave BA a thumbs up to show that he was listening. He chewed his bottom lip through the lock. Please let Facey be okay.

BA seemed to understand. Or maybe Murdock's breathing was getting more rapid than he thought. It was hard to hyperventilate when you couldn't open your mouth. Nostrils could only flare so wide. Bosco put a hand on Murdock's shoulder, squeezing hard enough that the pain kept him in the here-and-now, gave him something tactile to focus on.

"Murdock." His real name again. Don't think about how that means it's serious. "It's okay. This ain't a bad thing. There's nothing wrong. Nothing that can't be sorted out, anyway."

Okay. Murdock nodded again. BA's hand was still squeezing, but his thumb was rubbing Murdock's shoulder gently. It helped the bad crackles in the corners of his vision fade. Face wasn't sick. Okay.

"It's..." BA sighed. "This isn't easy for me, okay, Crazy? I don't wanna be having this conversation. I want you to know that. Face was supposed to talk to you but he's being an even bigger moron than I expected." Murdock cocked his head, confused now. What was BA talking about? "No one on this team is normal, man. Not you, not me, not Face, definitely not Hannibal. We never been what people expected and that ain't been nothing but a strength for us since day one."

Was Bosco drunk? Murdock thought he could smell something strong on his breath. Bourbon? BA never drank bourbon.

"There's so many ways we don't fit the mould of what a Ranger should be, or what an Army unit should be, why should we worry about that stuff now that we ain't even in the Army no more?"

It was definitely bourbon. BA's eyes were a little glazed too.

"I say there's enough people out there, especially now, trying to make life shit for us that we can't afford to miss it when what could make us happy is right in front of us."

Murdock really wished he hadn't thrown that key away. He had no idea what was going on.

"Crazy, do you have any idea how frustrating it is to see that what you need is right under your damn nose? I thought Face would handle it when I told him; he ain't no stranger to... whatever the hell he wants to call it. Courtship, wooing, whatever..."

Did Bosco just say "wooing"? Murdock wanted some of that liquor for himself. He eyed BA's pockets. Maybe he had a flask.

"Anyway, you seen how well that went down. It's my fault he's been acting like that. I ain't saying he's not interested! I just think I dumped it on him kinda sudden and he don't know how to take it."

Wait. Was Bosco...? All that stuff about the Army and being normal. Was this...? Oh.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh fuck.

"Bosco," Murdock wavered, lock be damned. BA cut him off.

"Face is a good guy, Murdock," the larger man continued stoically. The crackles and static were back. "He, shit, he loves you man. He really, really does."

Please stop, Bosco. Murdock didn't want to break BA's rules, but he didn't think he could get through this on his own. He needed Lord Nigel or Billy, or even just a random fact about silkworms to lighten the mood. He didn't want to talk about this or listen to it. Dr Ralph was trying to pull him away and distract him, but he'd promised BA he'd stay. Hadn't he? He couldn't remember. He'd meant to though. Murdock clenched his hands into fists and tried to focus on the bite of his nails into his palm (they needed cutting) and the feel of Bosco's hand still on his shoulder (heavy). Don't go away. Stay here. It sucks but it will be over soon. Just stay here for a little longer.

"You okay, Crazy?" BA was frowning at him. "I didn't mean to- shit." He rubbed his face, letting go of Murdock's shoulder. "I ain't good at this. Look. Just talk to Face, okay, man? Hate seein' you two like this."

Talk to Face. Sure. That was usually fun. Right now the thought of it made Murdock feel like he'd been dunked in ice water and he was pretty sure he was shaking from the imaginary cold, but he could talk to Face. No problem.

"Anyway. I'm gonna stop puttin' my foot in my mouth." BA stood up, causing the bed to bounce slightly. Murdock's stomach lurched. "You sure you're okay?"

Okay cheek muscles, it's your time to shine. Murdock pulled his lips back from his teeth in what was hopefully an upward direction. "Right as rain, Bosco!"

With one last unsteady look, BA weaved out the door, closing it slightly too loudly behind him. As soon as he was gone, Murdock pitched forward and wrapped his arms around his midsection.

Oh god. Oh. Ohhhh…

He didn't know why it hurt this bad. He wasn't… He never… He and Face weren't…

But this. Face and BA. He just couldn't. Thinking about it made him feel like his chest was swelling up, inflating bigger and bigger to cover his mouth and nose until he couldn't breathe. Murdock's throat spasmed and he wasn't sure if it was trying to sob or throw up.

Of course Face wouldn't end up with… Of course he would… Of course. And Face still loved him, BA said. That was nice. In a stabby, horrible kind of way, that was nice. Bosco had meant to be nice.

Murdock didn't know why this was bothering him and his ability to breathe so much. He'd never, he and Face. They were friends. That's all he'd ever. But obviously not, because this. Ohh. This. This hurt so much.

He couldn't lose Face though. He couldn't let the conman think that he'd reacted badly, not badly in a way that would hurt anyone but Murdock. He wanted his friends to be happy, he really really did. He'd be happy for them, once this selfish nausea went away.

Just a few more minutes. He'd give himself a few more minutes to… what? Grieve? That was stupid. This whole thing was stupid. Murdock wanted a do-over. He'd talk to Face. He just needed a few more minutes.