Deliverance - Hooch and Matt's Story (14 page)

Hooch sat on the couch, leaning into the bad side. He had hardly said anything all week, not knowing how to find the words, not even where to look for them. ‘I’m sorry’ was pathetic, ‘forgive me’ sounded shallow. It took a long time before he replied, because every single thing he meant to say felt wrong. Everything. In the end he gave up and simply agreed. “If you wish.”

“For a little while, so we have some space,” Matt continued, as though he hadn’t heard. “And you can decide whether this is what you want. This living together. With me. If I’m enough for you. And I can figure out whether I can keep doing this, the next time if this happens, when you need to…work off steam.” He turned around to face Hooch, and he looked paler and more drawn than Hooch had ever seen him. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared in my life. The way you’ve been lately, the way you took off. Running around town looking for you, the waiting. Not to mention what you did, and what happened, and what’s still going on.” He braced his arms on the windowsill behind him. “Not being able to get you proper help, not being able to get the doc to do more than he did, because what possible fucking reason could I give him that a guy who’s just been in a car accident needs a fucking blood test for STDs?” He braced his arms to control the trembling.

Hooch met Matt’s gaze straight on. Every single word hit him square and fair, right where it counted. ‘If Matt was enough for him’. Was he? Could he? Who or what could ever be enough, and yet the thought of losing Matt had been ripping a bleeding wound into Hooch these past days. So deep and painful, he didn’t know if it would ever close, if—no, when—he was going to leave. He had to leave, for Matt’s sake. What guarantees could he give, and how could Matt ever believe him, when Hooch couldn’t trust himself. And yet…the fear he’d experienced, of knowing what he was doing to Matt if those men had decided to kill the raw meat that he’d become in that warehouse; the memory of that fear hadn’t left him. Still as clear as it had been, the moment when he’d known that this time he wasn’t in it only for himself.

“Matt…” Hooch started and trailed off. It was pointless. He couldn’t find the words. Every thought and regret unspoken, each plea and each emotion unsaid.

“Just for a while,” Matt said, misery incarnate. “I’m sure you’ve got heaps on at work anyway. We both need to think, and being cooped up here together isn’t the place to do it.”

Hooch remained silent, all words inside swallowed up by that gaping wound. He’d never experienced loss before, and the heartache that spread through his very core made the beast and the darkness seem like nothing. It hadn’t been worth it, and he should have been in control.

Hooch nodded, and with that one nod he gave himself over to the inevitable. Defeated for the first time in his life, and it was all his own doing. He’d been his worst enemy all his life, and now he’d lost the one battle with the highest stakes.

“Jeff’s offered to take you back to base tomorrow morning,” Matt’s gaze was somewhere over Hooch’s shoulder. “Smashed truck and all, and the contractors coming in for the install.”

Hooch nodded again. That was he could do: agree, and to try control the damage he’d done to Matt.

* * *

Neither slept at all that night, not Matt in their bedroom, nor Hooch in the guest room. Early the next morning, Jeff arrived at the gym, dropping Mandy off before helping carry Hooch’s pack and a large gym bag to his car. He wasn’t anywhere near as talkative as Mandy during the short drive to the base, but he made all the right noises of sympathy about car smashes and losing much loved trucks. His was a pleasant enough voice to fill in the silence on the road, for all of his dropped ‘r’s that made Hooch long for another voice, one with a completely different accent.

Again, helping Hooch out of the car and carrying his bags, Jeff accompanied him as far as he could go. He let him know that he was spending most of his free time at Mandy’s apartment or at the gym these days, and would be more than happy to give him a lift back any time until Hooch got around to getting a new car; all Hooch had to do was let him know.

Which he didn’t.

Jeff spent that weekend at Mandy’s, but there was no sign of Hooch at the gym.

The next weekend, there was no sign of Hooch either, and neither did Jeff see the man while on base. Hooch kept busy, did his duties to a fault, kept honing men in their deadly skills and sending them out. Not allowing himself to grieve when they didn’t return alive, because there was no space in him left to mourn. Every part of him had been consumed by that open wound.

* * *

Hooch was working late one night in his office when he was interrupted by a knock on the open door. Looking up, he found Jeff there. “Sir?”

“Yes?” Hooch’s eyes narrowed slightly, unsure what to think of the unexpected visitor. “Lt. Sullivan.”

“Can I come in, Sir?” Jeff looked nervous.

Hooch nodded and pointed to the chair in front of his desk.

Looking like he was about to step into the lion’s cage, Jeff entered and closed the door behind him, before placing a small plastic box on the desk in front of Hooch.

“They’re from Mandy,” Jeff said, sitting down where indicated, “she said they’re your favorite.”

Hooch’s eyebrows raised as he recognized the contents of the transparent box. Red velvet cupcakes. “Thanks.”

An awkward pause, as though the younger man had no idea how to begin a conversation. “She says that everyone’s missing you at the gym.”

“Everyone.” Hooch made it a statement, not a question.

“Everyone.” Jeff replied firmly, meeting the gaze directly, hoping that it didn’t look as difficult as it was. Mandy had said that Captain Bozic was a ‘pussycat’ but it felt more like being locked in a very small room with a very large and very unhappy panther. Jeff bit his lip, considering. “With respect, Sir, I have been there more recently than you. Whatever’s happened, they do all miss you down there. You could just call and let them know you’re okay.”

“No.” Hooch shook his head. “No, I can’t do that.”

“I’m going down again on Wednesday for my session with Matt,” Jeff tried again. “Do you want me to pass on any messages?”

Hooch’s eyes hardened with suspicion. “Why would I want to do that?”

Jeff gulped. They said the Airborne was full of terrifying hardcases, but none of them had anything close to who was facing him across the desk. He attempted what passed as confusion, “‘cos you’re roommates and buddies, and your stuff’s still there, and no-one’s heard from you in weeks.” Biting his lip and barely holding back a twitch, before he warily made another foray. “Do you want me to bring your mail back?”

Eyes still narrowed, Hooch nodded. “Yes to the mail, but what do you know about my stuff being there?”

“You only had your pack and a sports bag when you came to base two weeks ago. You haven’t been back, and you’ve been living there for three years. You can’t not have stuff there still?”

The tension left Hooch’s face, but the desolation never did. “Yes, I do. Don’t need it, though. Got my uniforms.”

Jeff nodded, then changed the subject. “I never thanked you for the recommendation down there. Shoulder’s all fine now.” A pause, “thanks for setting me up with Mandy. She’s a great girl.”

“Anything else you’d like to thank me for?” Hooch tilted his head.

A look crossed Jeff’s face, as though he was swiftly praying to someone. “Just her. It’s…well, listening to the guys, it’s hard to find someone who understands the job, willing to put up with all sorts of stuff, that’s kinda special. Don’t think I’d ever want to let her go without a fight, I mean, you know,” he corrected, realizing how the words could be misinterpreted, “just that having someone who’s prepared to stick it out for the long haul, that’s…nice.”

“Yeah.” Hooch fell silent again, until Jeff thought that was it, but then Hooch added, “don’t fuck it up.”

Momentary silence, then, “I’ll try not to, but I guess I’m luckier than a lot of others already.” Jeff left the sentence half-finished. Adding, as though all subtlety had been used up, “when we have fights with each other, we both get it all out into the open.”

“Lucky you.”

It was like poking a panther through the bars of a cage, and getting nearer and nearer to the claws every time. “I guess,” there probably was no budging him, and Jeff dreaded the unsuccessful report back to Mandy. “I can come back for the box on Wednesday, if you like, Sir,” he stood up. “It is quite miserable down there, though they’re trying to hide it,” speaking in the neutral and the plural.

Hooch took in a sharp breath, holding it in his lungs, before he stood up and audibly expelled it. “I can’t go back. I am not saying that I don’t want to, but I can’t. I fucked up.” He was giving more away than he’d ever done before, but it seemed the only way of shutting Jeff up. “Say thanks to Mandy for the cupcakes. Also, tell her you make a shit undercover agent.”

Jeff gave a small smile in reply. “Now you know why they haven’t picked me for your lot. But you’d be surprised just how many guys on base are really good at keeping secrets, and not just the classified ones, but ones that really shouldn’t matter and that people really shouldn’t give a damn about, Sir.”

He turned and went to the door, opening it and walking out into the corridor before Hooch could react.

“Wha...” Hooch never finished the word, staring speechlessly at the retreating back. What the fuck had just happened? There was no way he could have misread Jeff’s words, only one possible interpretation of that which was unsaid and yet said so clearly. Secrets that shouldn’t matter. Shit. Hooch slumped back onto his chair and buried his face in his hands. He’d fucked up and thrown away the one thing that had mattered.

* * *

Thanksgiving passed, marked only with a delivery of pumpkin pie and an anxious look and a few pointed questions from Mandy. Matt threw himself into the gym, taking more classes, working early and late on proposals for the new year, and keeping himself busy. Anything to take his mind away from the empty spaces in the apartment, on the couch, at the dining table, in his bed. More strange with most of Hooch’s things still there, as though he’d just gone on a long, classified exercise without communication. The place was silent, even though Hooch was so quiet most of the time.

While Hooch took little interest in food, except perhaps a good steak, the effort of proper cooking for one seemed too much, and one evening he was poking at the remains of his half-finished dinner, uncaring of the carbs in the pasta, when the phone rang.

The voice on the other end was warm and familiar, and didn’t bother with preliminaries. “Matty, darling, why weren’t you and Hooch
really
here for Thanksgiving?”

“We’ve been busy,” Matt stalled, “especially Hooch at work.”

“I know, darling, that’s what you told me before the holiday, but I’m your mother, and I know when you lie. Do you remember the time you shoved Billy Haddington off that bike because he called you a fag?”

“How could I forget?” The memory was painful, but nothing compared to the present. Matt took a deep breath. “We’re having a break.”

“I thought so,” Anne’s voice softened. “Care to tell me why?”

“It’s…” he trailed off, “it’s been tough since September.”

“Aftermath of the attack?” Anne probed gently.

“Yes,” Matt confirmed. “His boys.” That much at least, it would take a complete idiot or a shut-in hermit not to know that the operations in Afghanistan would involve Hooch’s boys.

Anne made a soft sound of thoughtful agreement. “Which one of you wanted the break?” Always straight to the point.

“I,” Matt confessed. Knowing that it made him sound like a heartless bastard, but no way could he tell his mother the full story.

“Matty, I know I’m biased, because I’m your mom and I love you and think you are the finest man to walk the earth, but I know you wouldn’t ask for a break for no other reason than the man you love being difficult while that man is going through a hard time.” She left the field wide open for him.

“Not just that.” Matt didn’t know if he should curse or thank his mother, who never failed to get to the bottom of everything, “also other things.” Like driving off into the night like a maniac, going to goodness knows where to wind up half-dead, riddled with unknown infections and diseases, and closing off completely since. He hadn’t expected a long, detailed explanation—this was Hooch, after all. But a “I’m sorry,” and some hint of what madness was going through him would have been nice.

“Can you tell me a little about those other things?” She asked gently.

He opened his mouth and it almost came out, but shut it again, breathing deeply. He couldn’t. “Just…stuff.”

“Alright, dear,” her voice remained gentle. “If you can’t talk about it, perhaps I can ask some questions?” She paused a moment, “do you think Hooch still loves you?”

Matt almost answered with the first thing that came into his mind, which was ‘as much as that crazy bastard loves anyone’, but that would just raise more questions. The answer was simple, and yet not. “Yes,” he breathed, knowing that he was telling the truth, “but sometimes that’s not enough.”

“Then he did something that hurt you very much?”