katydidmischief: (bradley)
[personal profile] katydidmischief posting in [community profile] cjs_own
disclaimer. Not mine and none of the events described here in have any basis in reality.
title. Sing, You Sinners
rating. PG-13
pairing. None; Gen.
summary. They are still so very quiet when they drag him to the car and settle him in the backseat.
warnings. Mafia!AU set in New York during 1930; character death (secondary).
notes. Written for this prompt at [livejournal.com profile] a_team_kink.

Sing, You Sinners


Morrison knows he shouldn't have crossed Smith, knows that their decades long friendship won't save him. He'd screwed Hannibal and no one survives that – Pike certainly hadn't (his body had been pulled from the Hudson two days ago with a broken neck) nor had Lynch (the cops had declared him missing this morning).

Goddamnit, he'd known better.

He lets his head fall into his hands, sitting on the edge of the bare mattress. He'd gone to the station at noon to turn himself in, fully aware that alone there was no way Baracus wouldn't find him. The cops probably wouldn't keep him alive in the end either, but with their help he has a chance. Maybe get to a trial and then could be whisked away to a prison or some place... place where Hannibal has no reach. (A pipedream – Hannibal has his hands in everything from guns to booze to women and that includes prisons.)

"Fool," he hears in the hallway and jumps, but Baracus isn't there when he cracks the door open, peers through. Only his guards are there with newspapers in their hands, ink smeared on their fingertips.

Russ goes back to his bed and finally begins to put it together, tugging on the sheet.

He doesn't hear the door open until there's a bag over his head, a hand pressing the fabric into his mouth, and then he knows nothing.


Face, he's a pretty boy who lives in well-cut suits and refuses to drink the swill they smuggle in the night. He's Hannibal's left hand to Baracus' right; Face does what is asked of him with no complaint, a proper conman who's brought Hannibal all kinds of contraband.

When Morrison comes to, he sees the latest of Face's thefts: a brand new Cadillac, not a single scratch on the shiny paint. Hannibal must have fallen over himself when this was brought in; cars, so new and interesting with a the greasy, moving parts, they're his favorite of toys. Like some child with an erector set, Hannibal has been known to tinker with the engine, take it apart and put it together with Baracus at his side, together learning the workings.

His mind slows down, lets go of what the car means and realizes what it means.

Damn. Oh holy damn.

"You are so lucky," Face tells him and Russ whips his head to the side. There is the kid, propping up a wall, fedora settled on his head in such a way that Russ has to squint to see Face's eyes.

"Why's that?"

"You and Hannibal... you two are the closest thing I got to a family and I'm not going to let them just off you. Could be fun to send you up the river for what you pulled, but I figured making you hang around here was punishment enough." Face moves closer and leans over, adding, "Don't think I'll put myself on the line like this again."

Russ nods. "Thanks, kid."

"Don't call me kid. It's Templeton," Face says without looking back; he leaves the room and there's silence for a minute and Russ wonders how the kid's going to take it when he finds out. If he'll rail at Hannibal like he had as a child, when Hannibal had given the order to take down the priest Face had looked up to as a little boy. (Hannibal had gotten wind of what the demon was doing, treating children like garbage and stuffing himself on booze and food with money stolen from the collection plates. Giving the police information that could have gotten Face put away for so long.)

Because even if Face had tried to protect him, Russ knows Hannibal and he knows that once the old man's mind is made up, there is no changing it.

Murdock appears first, sliding into the room without a word and he starts one of the cars, an older model Ford; Russ thinks it's almost entertaining, when Baracus walks in, that Hannibal's sent both of them to kill him – he's almost sixty-years-old and there's no fight left in him.

They are still so very quiet when they drag him to the car and settle him in the backseat.


Face sees the car leave and asks Hannibal, "So we'll bring him back to the city when things cool down?"

Hannibal nods, upset with himself for the lie, but knows it's for the best. Morrison is a threat, not only to himself but to his boys and while some men view their hitmen, their conmen, the men in their families, as expendable, Hannibal will not tolerate a threat to them. It's why he's sent Bosco and Henry, to ensure the job is done.

"Maybe we'll go visit him," Charisa says, sipping from Hannibal's glass of scotch. "He is getting older and the city air... it's not so good."

"Maybe. For now, Face... I have someone I need you to find for me," Hannibal orders, and turns to his desk. There he scribbles a name on a strip of paper, hands it to Face and quickly ushers the kid out; when it's only himself and Charisa in the room, Hannibal faces her. "He will find out in due time. You will not speak a word to him."

"Of course I won't," she responds, the bitterness clear on her tongue. "And he won't find out in due time, Hannibal, you and I both know that – in a couple of weeks, we're gonna get word that he's died and you're gonna let Face believe it was just Russ' time. But we all know the truth."

She hates this part. Honestly, she likes this life – the glitz and the money to do what she pleases – and she likes being considered a part of Hannibal's family. She gets all that she wants, has a say (unlike most other girls she knows) in what they do, and has no fear of being backhanded for speaking her mind, but this? The lying to their own? This she hates.

"He's a stronger man than you give him credit for."

Hannibal's voice rises but he remains where he stands, not crowding Charisa. "He's my boy. Raised him myself, with my hands – I know the man he is. And it's not his strength I'm worried about or his mind. It's his foolish heart. I won't break that, because one day, he's gonna be a better man than I am and he's gonna need it in one piece."

For a moment, Charisa is silent, then she says, "All right," and takes her leave – if there's one thing she understands, it's how easy it is to break Face's heart.

She's barely through the door when Hannibal tells her, "You're the only one I've let do it. No one else gets a pass on that."


Murdock goes straight to his room when gets back, hopping up the stairs two at a time and ignoring Face as he goes; he needs to clear his head so he can keep up this rouse, lest it slip that Russ isn't enjoying the New York countryside. Well, he was if one enjoyed the country from six foot under.

There's a couple of the pills the doc keeps around for Murdock's more... exuberant times, the ones that make him float and he takes them with a gulp of lukewarm hooch, collapses onto his bed. Thankfully it's dark out, but cool enough he can leave the window open so he doesn't have to get up; instead, he pulls his leg up, knee to his chest and unties one shoe, then the other, and knocks them to the floor.

"You okay?" Face calls through the door as the second shoe hits the floor.

"Go to bed, Face," he yells back.

He hears the laugh as the door opens. "You took those pills! Love it when you take those things," Face says. He really does enjoy it, the way Henry won't be able to stand without wobbling, the way he runs his mouth. Hannibal, there's so much he tries to keep from Face, but Murdock can't keep a fucking secret, not with those drugs in his belly.

"Please go to bed," Murdock pushes, closing his eyes to avoid looking at the spinning ceiling.

Face shakes his head and collapses into the chair across from the bed. "No. Because you are going to tell me what Hannibal won't – bullet, knife, or drowning?"

Murdock purses his lips. He won't give it up this time; he won't start this argument because that's what it'll be – Face loved Russ, took the old man's advice and guidance like Face took Hannibal's. He isn't going to cause the rift between the two of them.

"Look, I know it happened. I'm not in his room, pushing him about it. Just tell me."



"Templeton, goddamnit, no. Let it go this time – just let it go. It's over, this is over, and I ain't letting you get on his bad side. You're his kid and he's protecting you, and that's what you need to know. So no, no, no. Get out." Murdock looks pissed as he points to the door; tomorrow they'll forget this and be back to acting like a pair of ridiculous children when they sit down for breakfast, but for now, all Murdock wants is for Face to leave him be.

So Face goes, being sure the shut the door behind him as he does and nearly runs into Hannibal.

"Pilot asleep?" he asks, nonchalance dripping off the words.

"Yeah." Face nods toward his own room, starts to wish Hannibal a goodnight and then stops himself, eyes catching the older man's as he asks, "If I ever did something like what Russ did... how would you get rid of me?"

Hannibal answers without hesitation or pause, "I wouldn't."
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