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No One's Taking Him


TITLE: No One's Taking Him
AUTHOR: rileighs
RATING: PG-13 (not sure how ratings work, sorry XD)
CHARACTERS/PAIRING: Murdock, a little Face, just friendship
GENRE: Movie Verse
SUMMARY: Just a quick one shot, Face thinking of Murdock.
WARNINGS: implied self harm and mentions of crazy stuff
NOTE: I haven't written anything in forever, so I'm all rusty. Just test flying this here

He couldn’t actually enter the room, could only stand in the door way and watch as Hannibal scribbled onto the cardboard. Bosco, though sat at the table next to Hannibal, refused to watch the older man’s actions, was silent, fingering the box.

There was a tension in the room, an alien presence; it wasn’t often they would allow this kind of atmosphere when planning some insane mission. On the other hand, Face couldn’t think of any mission that had felt as important. This was one they absolutely could not fail.

And so he was stood watching from just outside, suddenly so very aware of their missing team member. Aware of the tension. Aware of seriousness.

Just a little too sane.


There are things they were already aware of about Murdock. Having spent 8 years serving together, it was hard not to learn almost everything there was to know about each other. For one, they knew he was crazy, knew that from the first time they met him. And no matter how much he would deny it, even B.A. knew that Murdock was perhaps the best damn pilot the war had to offer. His crazy aerobatics and stunts, however terrifying and defiant of the laws of physics, were the things that kept them alive where others wouldn’t make it.

 Although they kept it well hidden, his insanity did extend beyond spontaneous singing, silly accents and personalities, talking socks and invisible dogs. There were times when they caught a glimpse of the true nature of his madness, the reason he had spent the last two years previous to their meeting in Mexico, when they had plucked him out the psyche ward, touring various mental institutions.

Sometimes his mind would go. He wouldn’t recognise them, couldn’t remember them, and he would hear voices. Not the friendly voices he would joke with, his mania escalating seemingly only for the sake of irritating Bosco. These voices did all they could to frighten him, to hurt him, whispering terrible things that the others couldn’t put a stop to, reminding him of horrors long forgotten. There were times he would claw at the walls, praying for forgiveness, begging for mercy, anything to let him out of the hell his mind had trapped him in.


Occasionally, less disturbing, if only slightly, but no less frightening, he would slip into some kind of trance, a song floating round and round his head as he compulsively scratched at his wrists or tugged out his hair.


But all the difficulties they had faced concerning Murdock’s condition had been worth it to see him getting better. Not one of them could ever delude themselves into believing he would ever be completely well again, but the improvement they saw over time was warming. Even with all the death and war around them, their friend, their brother, was recovering. His psychotic episodes occurred in decreasing numbers, maybe once every few months, and his more unusual behaviours also diminishing into non-existence. All that was left was his quirks and incessant peppy attitude.

But all that changed, the day of that fateful mission. They were so sure they had succeeded, their insane plan working to the T. Then the explosions: first the jeep, the death of their trusted General, then the container as they were running to intercept the Black Forest commandoes.

Before they knew what was happening, they were arrested, handcuffed, thrown into the back of a truck and put on trial. Even with the sense of betrayal, his anger at the military, Charisa, Pike, the system, Hannibal for his insistence on accepting “off the record” missions, and even Morrison for dying, there were two things Face will never forget from the day of the trial.

The first was the look on Murdock’s face, that look of betrayal. Even though they were all feeling betrayed and upset, there was something about the way his eyes resonated that emotion that made his heart ache.

The second was the last time he’d seen Murdock, after their sentencing, hearing the time they would be doing in separate jails. Only it wasn’t to be like that, because no sooner had the MPs come to take them away, once again Murdock drew all of their attention, his shouts, his screams, his struggles as it took three of them to drag him away, and Face remembered. Murdock was officially insane; he wasn’t simply going to jail.

He was going back to an institute where they would strip of every right and freedom, where they would pump him full of the drugs he hated so much.

It had been six months, and no matter how thrilling the idea of finally catching the people who had set them up sounded, no matter how fantastic it would be to have them back as a team again, as he watched Hannibal packing dozens of 3-D glasses into the box labelled from “Annabel Smith” to some patient at the hospital in Mannheim, he couldn’t help the feeling of dread. They had no idea who they would be breaking out, if it would be the Murdock they remembered, the mad but brilliant pilot, or possibly a completely different Murdock, the unstable psychotic who suffered paranoid delusions that rendered him completely disconnected from the real world. He couldn’t say it though, couldn’t voice this fear. Couldn’t give the possibility any sort of credibility by discussing it with Hannibal. He just watched the older man finishing off the package, knowing that soon they would have their pilot back, no matter who he was now, and this time, no one was taking him away.

Hey! I'm still alive!!

Well, the world didn't end, so that's a good start, I guess XD

I've been so knackered because of the hours I've spent working, then the hours I spend trying to draft an idea, but my mind is running from one track to another in seconds, so as soon as an idea comes and I start to  write BOOM!!! and another is there and I wanna write the first and the second, but it's all so much and confusing then BOOM another one??!?!?!

Well, I know I wouldn't want to be any other way, see I've sorta settled on this one idea for Persona 3, (remember the game I've totally been obsessing over.... oh wait, I haven't been online.. well the other day I went about a month of going to tartarus nearly every night, working really hard at getting them all up, and then we fought the bad guy and I got real lucky there...... then you know who gets shot by Takaya, and I just switched the power off coz... well, you know me... and all that work..... hmph... anyways, I read the script yesterday, and so I know the story, there were several parts in it that made me want to cry... or scream... I get really into these things, I LOVE IT!!!!) what was I saying, oh yeah, an idea for fighting an alternate version of death where one of his attacks is to make them give up hope using a special trick which made my really hyper when i thought of it, because the scene came to mind, and it was all emotional and dramatic..... YAYAYAYAYAYAYAUAUAUAUAUAU!!!!!!!!

You know what, I've completely lost the plot

news years resolution: make more sense

I'm resolved to establish some form of order in my life, and that means I'm going to start a journal. A proper one. Online.

Haha, indeed, my new years resolution is to make more sense when trying to be understood. Good huh.

Well, today is a thursday, and I've just had a meeting with my mentor to discuss my lack of attention and other things that slow me down and make me feel bleh. Funny really, one and half years into the two, and we're only just touching on what makes me do so bad in class.

It's 17:16 right now, or so this computer claims, so I has 40 minutes to make a start.

Thursday 21st, January, 2010.
Ridiculus me, starting a diary now.
I feel kinda down at the moment, because there are so many people I enjoy talking to, but I haven't been online and can't keep in touch. My best mate is now fraggin' pregnant!! Jane goes to.. or is on the isle of man right now.. think that's how it's spelt.. and I said I'd visit, but I really don't have the money.
I had a good laugh explaining (trying to) to someone how I don't get addicted to things. Me NO addict!!
No, I have what I guess is an obsessive compulsive personality, so I obsess over things (people XD) for a space of time before moving on.

This is my equivalent to a diary entry. I wrote in my new book something about the people I saw, and went off on a tangent about "conversations with a peg" which is a book I intend to write one day, the inspiration from the title coming from a (scarily?? funny?) genuine incident in which I found myself talking to a plastic clothes peg whom I named 'Tommy'. Don't know why I kept it, just kept it in my room, I wrote the name on it too (guess it's a he, don't ask me how I know). I get all excited about going to Sweden, but then I get scared that we won't get on, or won't have anything to talk about. I do go through moods where I'm (the only word is) antisocial, and I do not want to be like that when I go.

A piece of good news it WENDYHOUSE IS ON MY BIRTHDAY!!!!!

Okay, section on work. College work. Okay. Well.....
I have a lot to do. And when I think over it, I know it really wouldn't take that long... IF I didn't have the problems I have when it comes to writing these ridiculous reports. Why could it not be simpler?!?!?
Everytime I start to write some poetry or fanfiction or try drawing, all I can think about is the college work, and when I try to do that, I want to be writing on the next Motel Madness chapter. Ridiculous Rileigh!!!
Bloody useless.

There's some things we have to do as a group, and so far it's not going well. I'm trying to be a bit more like a director (This is what I want, this is what we're doing) but it's hard because I'm so used to wanting to know what everyone else thinks, and then I let them have too much freedom, and they try and walk all over me. Must Stop Mutiny!!

Rebel scum!!!!

Yeah, I feel a little lonely. I'm actually not looking forward to my maths lesson; I don't have the text book yet, though I did look for it, there wasn't one in the shops, and I don't yet have a calculator.....WAIT!! SITHSPIT!!! I have a scientific calculator...AT HOME!!! AARRRGGGHHH!!!! Why am I so useless?!?!?!
Last week I was almost falling asleep in my lesson. The only way I could stay awake was by writing (okay, whenever I say writing, then it's some form of fictional writing) but I was aware we were doing something about exponentials and logarithms. I was aware, but have no understanding of it :(

- Get C1 and C2 maths text book
- Get Maths mechanics text book
- get laptop
- get software
- get to work
- get a brain


- Do unit 1 work
- Do unit 4 work
- Do unit 26 work
- Do unit 44 work
- Doesn't matter which, just do something!!!

Think I may put this up on moodle too. Why the heck not, heh?

Is this a proper journal? Is this the kind of thing you put? What's happened in the day, what's happening around the day which affect the thoughts you have on this day... well I guess so.

Jan annoyed me yesterday, but seeing as I've been out practically all of today, she shouldn't bother me tonight. Rob was a bit of a git as well, he's in about just as much as I am and no one expects him to do a load of chores!!
It's the 21st, and I've only accumalated 20 points since the first!! How can I get less than one a day?!?! It's because I don't put down points for when I tidy something up, or clean something, although I reckon I should. And I should put down the correct number for the time I spend walking the dogs, but then Rob has a go at me because he reckons I shouldn't get four points for walking the dogs for 1 and a half hours. No, I should really get six. But he knocks one off instead.

I'm not entirely sure what I do when I'm at home. I'm back to the stage I was at a few years ago when I don't get anything done, and I don't watch TV or go on the computers or play on games, and I don't really read that much, yet I can't think of a time when I wasn't doing something. What the hell do I do?! Schizophrenia really uses up your time XD
At least, I suppose that's what I do, my room turns into the Downtime lounge, or the attic is the High Council chamber, or the shed is a dungeon XD Jup, a dungeon.. in my shed. Although sometimes it's one of the shiny prison cells.
I'm just daft, but I wouldn't complain. Well, I can complain, really. Because while I'm imagining in great detail playing sabacc with Tycho and Hobbie, and challenging Wes to a drinking contest, I should really be doing my work.

Hm, I can't really think... well. Next week. No wait, this one isn't over yet. I just have no plans, and although I hate having plans, I also don't like having plans. Feels like all my time is taken up. I really have to get a move on with my work, and I'm sure I've said it somewhere before, but I really need a job. I can't be spending the amount of money Jan expects me to spend.. I really need a job, then I feel safer spending some.
Darn, I suppose I'll have another maths lesson, not really taking anything in. I hate it when that happens. I don't like to spend three hours doing something, and to not have any memory of the things learnt and discussed. Like last week that was something about graphs and translations, reflection, stretchs, "asymptotes are lines that a graph approaches as x or y approaches infinity" (all according to my notes) then there is a load of stuff working with log and some rather disturbing writing about a very dark topic in a very dark place. Ah well, I have to go now.
It's 17:58 and my lesson starts in a few minutes. On the fifth floor, it's hell going up them stairs.. getting used to it though.

Hihihi, and I named my diary Garrath.

To Beginnings

So i guess this is my official start here.....even though I have in fact been a member here since 2003 with a different account. But that account is dead.

Okay, I am in fact a student of media, and I don't really know what I want to go into after finishing my course...if I finish. I want to try my shaky hand at everything I can, screenplays, editing, filming, presenting, acting, performing... although I find most areas of pre-production absolutely soul destroying; I'm a spontaneous person, I do not make plans.

As any one does, I have hobbies which include ancient history, gaming (hoorah!!), drawing/painting, and photography, models... like, damn, I can't remember what it's called, ah, airfix!! (I think), singing, well, music in all areas, sport (Arsenal supporter!! GO GUNNERS GO GUNNERS). I enjoy writing fanfiction and being creative.

Generallly crazy most the time.


I was crazy once!
They put me in a room with marshmellows on the wall,
Didn't taste like marshmellows though,
I liked that room,
I died in that room,
They burried me six feet deep with the worms,
I hate worms,
Worms drive me crazy!!

I was crazy once!
They put me in a room with marshmellows on the wall,
Didn't taste like marshmellows though,
I liked that room,
I died in that room,
They burried me six feet deep with the worms,
I hate worms,
Worms drive me crazy!!


Yeah, very XD

What else to say??
AH!! My faveourite people.
Well, friends: Cassy, Jasia and Frankie
Internet mates: Alex, Dapling, Anleva, Hanna
Video game characters: Alister Fletcher, Cait Sith (lol, any character voiced by Greg Ellis), Rikku and Yuna
Actors/actresses: Richard Armitage, Greg Ellis, Billy Boyd, David Tennant, Sarah Michelle Gellar, well, there are lots
TV personalties...: Jeremy "Jezza" Clarkson, James "Captain Slow" May, Richard "Hamster" Hammond (see a theme developing??)
Band: Within Temptation, RHCP

well, I've actually bored myself...



Oh hi there!!

I can't wait til i can drive and actually have a car!!!

Guess what, I'm done here. Was it absolutey pointless, guess I'll find something to actually talk about next time. YAHOOOO!!!

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