CHAPTER THIRTEEN

1985

Day Two – Friday

Murdock awoke to soft kisses on his neck, from his ear all the way down to his collarbone. Smiling softly, he moved his hand to the back of Kelly's head, burying his fingers in her damp hair as she stopped by his ear and whispered a quiet, "Good morning."

"Morning," he answered, breathing in her scent. Her skin was still damp from the shower.

"Time to get up and face the day."

He hummed softly, nuzzling against her. "I'm not ready to be up yet." He paused to kiss her slowly, enticingly. "Maybe you should come back to bed."

The bed creaked as she moved over him, and he shivered involuntarily as she pulled the blankets down, resting her hands on his chest. "How about we compromise?"

He smiled. "What sort of compromise?"

"You wake up, but I'll come back to bed for a bit. How does that sound?"

Eyes still closed, he slid his hands up from her knees to her waist, beneath her robe. "Feisty this morning. I like it."

He traced his index fingers down along the crease of her thigh, tickling lightly. She giggled and squirmed. "I figured the least you deserved was an extra nice wakeup call."

"Well, I won't argue."

He moved his hands back to her hips as she leaned down and kissed him on the lips. "Thank you," she whispered.

"For what?"

As she lingered, he continued the kiss with growing enthusiasm. The more awake he became, the more he was starting to think that a few more minutes of sleep weren't really all that necessary.

"For being here. For putting up with my family. And doing this for me."

He smiled into another slow, probing kiss. "You're welcome."

"Today will be better. I promise."

"Even if it's not, this wakeup call definitely makes it worth it."

She laughed, brushing her lips lightly against his. "I like waking up next to you."

"It does have its advantages."

He took in a deep breath and pushed himself up, careful not to topple her over as he sat upright with her on his lap. With one hand bracing his weight, the other slid into her hair as he kissed her again.

"Want me to show you one of them?" he teased lightly.

"I certainly do."

He smiled as he turned and carefully pushed her back onto the bed, pulling the blankets up around them.

1968

Paulie's orders had been calm and fairly emotionless as always. Murdock was taking a few days off whether he liked it or not. Murdock had no thoughts of protesting. He had absolutely no desire to sit on the base and nurse his arm and watch them repair the damage done to his bird. Nothing would ever get those images out of his mind. He'd been covered in another man's blood. He'd seen the pieces of that man's brain splattered all over the instruments. He knew he'd see it in his mind's eye when he sat down in front of those instruments again. He wasn't sure he would ever get past that.

The only place he really had to go was Nha Trang. And he knew better than to expect a warm welcome from Alan. But the laughter that greeted him was a bit more than he was prepared for.

"What the fuck happened to you?" Alan didn't wait for an answer. With laughter in his voice, he turned his attention fully to Murdock. "You fall off your bunk, flyboy?"

Murdock reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. He needed something to do with his hands, some place to put all the thoughts and feelings that he couldn't figure out, let alone handle. "I got shot, Alan."

The word seemed to echo in his head. Jesus Christ, he had been shot. Worse than that, he'd gotten everyone in his bird killed. His eyes broke away from Alan as soon as he spoke, trying to keep the images and smells out of his memories.

But Alan only chuckled. "Shoulder, huh? Too bad they didn't aim a little lower. You coulda got out of this hell hole. One way or the other."

The hand with the unlit cigarette stopped halfway to his mouth. Alan might have been an ass, but even he wouldn't joke about that. He didn't want Murdock dead. He might not like him, but that's not the same as wanting him dead. Alan didn't understand. His nonchalance was emphasized by the fact that he'd already gone back to the latest copy of Playboy, not affording Murdock any more of his time or attention.

"Everyone in my chopper was killed, Alan." Murdock barely recognized his own voice. "My crew, my men, the wounded we'd just picked up... I was the only one who made it out alive."

Alan turned for a moment and looked at him. After a long pause, he seemed to conclude that yes, in fact, Murdock was serious. Alan's eyes grew cold before he looked away again and answered with emotionless, empty words. "Shit happens."

"Shit happens?" Murdock couldn't help the stunned echo. He took a step towards Alan. He wanted to shake him, to make him understand. "I got every man on that chopper killed, damn it! They thought I was gonna die." He tapped his hand against his chest. "I thought I was gonna die!"

"Well, you were the fuckin' idiot at the controls," Alan snapped. "You got yourself shot up that was your own damn fault. The fuck do you want me to say about it?"

Murdock felt as if he'd just been hit in the chest with a sledgehammer. There were no words to answer that. There was simply nothing to say. As Alan looked straight at him again, his eyes grew even harder, even colder. His tone matched.

"It's part of bein' a fuckin' soldier, Mark. One of these days you're gonna die. They're gonna put a bullet in you and that hunk of metal you're so goddamn proud of is gonna fall out of the sky and incinerate everyone in it. That's what happens to choppers when they get shot at. And you die just like any other pilot. I don't give a shit how good you think you are. You tryin' to make some name for yourself – biggest and the best – is just the kinda shit that gets men like me killed. I ain't gonna fuckin' congratulate you for succeeding at that."

It took Murdock a moment to even find words. When he did, he could hear the hurt and confusion in his voice. "So you've just been waitin' to hear that I'm dead?"

Alan laughed loudly at that. "If you been waitin' to hear anything other than that I'm dead, you're here for all the wrong reasons."

"I'm here for you." The answer was automatic. If he had been thinking at all - if he wasn't so damned stunned by Alan's causal acceptance of his impending death - he never would have said that aloud. Not to Alan.

"That's the wrong fuckin' reason."

Murdock swallowed hard. He hadn't come here to die. He'd come here to help, to be part of something. And, the little voice in his head pointed out, you came here for him. He doesn't like you, but you have to matter to him.

"You matter to me," Murdock finished, his voice more sure now. "I don't want you to die."

I need you, the same way you have to need me. We're the only ones left, damn it!
But Alan only laughed bitterly. "Don't do me no favors, flyboy. And don't shed no tears when you get that letter. Not that you'll be able to help it. You get all fuckin' choked up when old people die."

There was nothing he could say to that. He couldn't even think to form words. He needed out, away from the sudden sensation of drowning on dry land. With no destination in mind, no goal other than away from the pain, Murdock turned and headed for the door.

1985

Murdock had heard the doorbell when he was still in the shower. He took his time finishing, giving himself a chance to refocus, to plan, to remember all that he was supposed to be. He and Kelly had gone back and forth, alternating between weak and strong for each other, the entire day yesterday. He expected more of the same today. One way or another, it was bound to be a very long day.

He sighed as he finally shut the water off, and shook out his hair. He'd given himself several days away from the drugs at the VA, let them wear off enough that he was able to think clearly. But he could still feel them. He was still aware of them. The auditory hallucinations - whispering voices, the constant sound of barking dogs. Things that weren't real. The headache hadn't gone away in days, and he still wasn't capable of reading with the blurred vision. That, more than anything, was the thing that scared him. Sure, it would wear off. Sure, he'd be back to normal when it did. But what if it didn't? And how could he fly when he couldn't see straight?

You're not flying right now. You're performing. For an audience.

He shook his head to clear it as he stepped out of the shower stall and grabbed the towel off the back of the door, toweling himself dry. It wasn't hard to clear his mind. He couldn't hold a train of thought for very long. He glanced out the window as he wrapped the towel around his waist and sighed at the brown Cutlass in front of the house. Kelly's parents. And Randy. They were early - the first to arrive. Somehow, that surprised him.

The knock on the door made him turn, and the soft sound of Kelly's voice, announcing her presence, made him smile. He loved having her nearby. Just the sound of her voice, the smell of her perfume, the feel of her skin. "Come on in, beautiful."

As soon as she opened the door, he could see something was wrong. It was in her body language - head down, shoulders dropped. She turned and shut the door, looking at it for a moment before turning back to him. His brow furrowed as he turned to her. "Everything okay?"

It was a stupid question. She looked like she wanted to hide. Everything was not okay. Leaning back against the door, she kept her head down, only raising her eyes to him. "Murdock, I need to talk to you."

Her voice was hesitant, full of worry and something else he couldn't immediately identify. Already, he didn't like where this was headed. "What happened?" Some gut instinct inside of him just wanted to put his arms around her and hug her until that look and tone went away.

Her hands nervously twisted into her slacks. She seemed to be addressing the floor when she started to speak. "Randy got into some trouble at the hotel." Her voice was raspy, almost as if she was having trouble forcing the words out.

"What kind of trouble?"

Swallowing, she bit the inside of her lip before starting again, even softer this time. "With um… the night manager. A fist fight." She glanced up at him. "He's going to have to stay here the next few nights."

He blinked, surprised. For a moment, he wasn't exactly sure what to say. Finally, he took a step closer to her, his attention focused entirely on her. "Are you okay with that?"

She let out a breath and looked up at him for a brief second, like she was searching him, trying to gauge his reaction. Then she looked back down. "It doesn't matter if I'm okay with it," she sighed, blushing slightly. Embarrassed? Ashamed? "It's my parents' house."

He hesitated a moment, not entirely sure what she meant by that. "No... it's your house. You live in it, you pay to keep the lights on, ergo yours." He reached up a hand to rub her arm. She wasn't expecting it, and she flinched. "And it matters to me if you're okay with it. 'Cause if not, he can find himself another place to spend the night."

"Murdock, you don't understand."

"Then explain it to me."

She took in a deep, slow breath. There was no hiding the emotions swirling in her eyes. "When Daddy had to leave town, I took over the mortgage and bills, but the house has always been in their name. It has to stay in the family. It's supposed to be my inheritance. That's why I still sleep in the room I grew up in. The Master bedroom is my parents'. That's also why," her eyes seemed to grow distant, pulling back into herself, "why I just left Randy's room alone and made the den into a guest room."

Suddenly, she was looking at him. Really looking. But it was impossible to pick one emotion out of all of those that were running across her face. Her hand suddenly gripped the one on her arm as she pleaded desperately. "Please Murdock, understand. I have to let them stay."

"Them?"

"All three of them were asked to leave." She looked away. "Daddy got involved to break up the fight and started yelling at the man. It was…" She shook her head, looking back at him with tears in her eyes. "Please. You have to understand. I have to do this. Please, I just need you to understand."

The tone of her voice had him nodding before he really even processed what he was agreeing to. "Alright, okay." He pulled his arm away gently and carefully lifted her hand from it, kissing the back of her fingers. "It's alright."

Kelly stepped into his embrace, leaning heavily on him, holding him tight as she took several long, deep breaths. He guided her hand to his shoulder and slid his arms around her waist, pulling her close. "You do what you have to do, Kelly," he whispered. "It's your decision. I'm here no matter what."

Eyes closed tight, she pressed into him. After several moments of just clinging to him she finally lifted her head. "What I want is to just hide away with you somewhere, alone." She hugged him tighter before sighing wistfully. "But I need to take care of my family first."

He stroked her back slowly, up and down, sliding a hand under her shirt so that he could feel her warm skin. "It's only for a few days, Kelly. And I'll be right here."

"I know."

The sad expression on her face made it clear she was more than just unhappy at the thought of a few more days of this. In fact, she looked less pleased with it than he was. He smiled softly, reassuringly. "And we can always find places to hide. You don't have to be with them twenty-four hours a day."

Very slowly, he reached up a hand to push her hair back from her eyes. There was no flinch this time, and his smile turned more genuine. "Like now. See?" He glanced around him. "Hidden. No one here. We can even lock the door if it'll make you feel better."

She let a choked laugh. "I already locked it."

He smiled. "There, see? Hidden. And you don't have to leave until you're good and ready to."

She looked up at him for a moment, then stood up on her toes so she could place a gentle, thankful kiss on his lips. Then she pulled back, staring at him, the emotion in her eyes slowly becoming a look of love and gratitude. The corner of her mouth tipped up just slightly, almost a smile. "I love you."

"I love you, too."

Suddenly, she hugged him tight again, burrowing her head into his shoulder. Hiding? He smiled as he stroked her back, resting his cheek on top of her hair.

"Maybe we could stay here just a little bit longer?" she pleaded softly.

He smiled, and wrapped both arms around her. "Anything you want, Kelly." He breathed slow, turning his head to kiss her hair. "I'm not going anywhere."