[Lethal Weapon] High Wire
Title: High Wire
Fandom: Lethal Weapon
Rating: PG
Word count: 1021
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit
Summary: Riggs isn't trying to kill himself. This time.
A/N: I wanted to write something for hurt/comfort bingo's 'suicide attempt' square and since I mostly write RPF, I didn't really want to go down that route (this time). There are several scenes in LW which make me want to take a peek inside Riggs's head; notably this one, where he's got Roger's gun under his chin. Contains spoilers for LW1. Crossposted to AO3
High Wire
Martin Riggs can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he's actually tried to kill himself. Just one hand, and just one finger - the middle one, which he's sticking up at life right now. There's only been one time where he's stuck a gun in his mouth and tried to will himself to pull the trigger. All those other times, the times every other cop in LA gets down on their knees and prays they'll never have to work with him, those are just him doing The Job.
And he's good at The Job. Throwing himself into life-threatening situations is all that's keeping him alive. Anyone else would hold back; they've got something to lose. Not Riggs, no. He's already lost Victoria Lynn - what else can they take from him? Anything else would be a blessing at this point. He doesn't have to court Death: the lady's doing a fine job of romancing him on her own account and all it'll take is a stray bullet from some young punk to leave him permanently in her embrace. He walks into danger knowing that. Welcoming it. Maybe even hoping for it, buried beneath a layer of wisecracks and strung-out hysteria.
Everyone thinks he's either crazy, or crazy enough to think he can get away with faking it. He's neither but no one seems to notice, much less care.
Until he gets saddled with a new partner. Roger Murtaugh's got everything Riggs likely never even stood a chance of having, and sure doesn't now. Beautiful wife, gorgeous children, normal house and cars and cat and hell, probably never seen a shrink in his life. They're not exactly made for each other, but they don't have a choice and Riggs is pretty sure Murtaugh wasn't looking to get some loose cannon sharpshooter as a fiftieth birthday present.
But that's what he's got. They're barely together five minutes before Riggs is throwing himself off a roof, jumper in tow. It's not a suicide attempt - at least, it's not his suicide attempt, and that jumper's going to think twice before he tries it again. There's a mat, it's not a long drop; Riggs knows he's not going to die. Break an arm, maybe, if he's really unlucky, but dying's unlikely.
Murtaugh doesn't think so. Murtaugh thinks he's looking to go anytime, any way he can, even if he's working. Almost, but not quite true, though that doesn't stop him dragging Riggs into the nearest building the second the cuffs are off. He's fuming and that's okay, Riggs can kind of get why, because most people try to talk jumpers down, not jump with them, and that's probably not in Murtaugh's rulebook. He's confused and he's angry and that only pushes Riggs even higher, wires him to blow. The jump came close. He's running on adrenaline even before he dives off the roof; he's ready to do it again when he lands because he can. Nothing broke, he's energised, he's amazing, he can't die.
The rush is incredible. Every cell in his body tingles, buzzing with too much energy for him to possibly burn off. Everything's shaking. He knows he can't fly but he's just done a credible imitation, and everyone watching from the ground thinks he's completely lost it now - his new partner too.
But he wasn't trying to die. Murtaugh doesn't get it. Murtaugh has him with the barrel under his chin, ready to pull the trigger and splatter his brains all over the floor. No chance of recovery, no chance of salvation. It's like a staring contest: first one to blink loses. Riggs has the advantage - he doesn't care who wins. If he does it like this, it's not really him doing it, is it? This is like all those times in the field, where it's someone else's finger on the trigger and he just happens to be there. This one will be Murtaugh's fault, even if Riggs is the one holding the gun - and he'll do it, too. He knows Murtaugh will stop him in time. There's no danger, only the thrill of pushing someone else as close to the edge as he stands himself, tension ready to ignite in a shower of sparks.
Riggs is willing to die. He won't walk away. It's Murtaugh who breaks first, shaking and panicked as if he'd been the one with a gun pressed up against his skin. Now he really does think Riggs is crazy, and there's not a lot Riggs can say to that, is there? Not when he's already admitted he's living day-to-day, having to find reasons not to shoot himself whenever he wakes up, alone and miserable and with no end in sight. Can't argue with the truth and no point in lying. There are a million things he could say - maybe put his new partner's mind at rest, maybe disturb him even more - but he can't get any of them out, his mouth forming shapes without substance, without voice.
In the end, all he can talk about is something trivial and unrelated. Something objective, something safe, where the words can flow freely. He's coming down now, tension seeping from his muscles, and it leaves him tired and lacking. Food helps. Watching The Three Stooges helps. Looking after Sam helps. Anything that allows him to switch off, stop thinking, stop his mind wandering over that same painful ground, day after day. There's nothing like walking into a rain of gunfire and knowing - hoping? - he might not make it out alive; that's as good a distraction as anything they show on TV.
Maybe not for Murtaugh, though. Riggs might not like being set up with a partner, and Murtaugh might not like it any better, but they're stuck with each other and Murtaugh's got people who need him. People who love him, who'll miss him if he catches a bullet in the wrong place. Riggs doesn't have anyone like that, not anymore.
Or so he'd thought. Murtaugh might've been the one telling him to pull the trigger - but he'd also been the one to stop Riggs from doing it.
Fandom: Lethal Weapon
Rating: PG
Word count: 1021
Disclaimer: Not mine, damnit
Summary: Riggs isn't trying to kill himself. This time.
A/N: I wanted to write something for hurt/comfort bingo's 'suicide attempt' square and since I mostly write RPF, I didn't really want to go down that route (this time). There are several scenes in LW which make me want to take a peek inside Riggs's head; notably this one, where he's got Roger's gun under his chin. Contains spoilers for LW1. Crossposted to AO3
High Wire
Martin Riggs can count on the fingers of one hand the number of times he's actually tried to kill himself. Just one hand, and just one finger - the middle one, which he's sticking up at life right now. There's only been one time where he's stuck a gun in his mouth and tried to will himself to pull the trigger. All those other times, the times every other cop in LA gets down on their knees and prays they'll never have to work with him, those are just him doing The Job.
And he's good at The Job. Throwing himself into life-threatening situations is all that's keeping him alive. Anyone else would hold back; they've got something to lose. Not Riggs, no. He's already lost Victoria Lynn - what else can they take from him? Anything else would be a blessing at this point. He doesn't have to court Death: the lady's doing a fine job of romancing him on her own account and all it'll take is a stray bullet from some young punk to leave him permanently in her embrace. He walks into danger knowing that. Welcoming it. Maybe even hoping for it, buried beneath a layer of wisecracks and strung-out hysteria.
Everyone thinks he's either crazy, or crazy enough to think he can get away with faking it. He's neither but no one seems to notice, much less care.
Until he gets saddled with a new partner. Roger Murtaugh's got everything Riggs likely never even stood a chance of having, and sure doesn't now. Beautiful wife, gorgeous children, normal house and cars and cat and hell, probably never seen a shrink in his life. They're not exactly made for each other, but they don't have a choice and Riggs is pretty sure Murtaugh wasn't looking to get some loose cannon sharpshooter as a fiftieth birthday present.
But that's what he's got. They're barely together five minutes before Riggs is throwing himself off a roof, jumper in tow. It's not a suicide attempt - at least, it's not his suicide attempt, and that jumper's going to think twice before he tries it again. There's a mat, it's not a long drop; Riggs knows he's not going to die. Break an arm, maybe, if he's really unlucky, but dying's unlikely.
Murtaugh doesn't think so. Murtaugh thinks he's looking to go anytime, any way he can, even if he's working. Almost, but not quite true, though that doesn't stop him dragging Riggs into the nearest building the second the cuffs are off. He's fuming and that's okay, Riggs can kind of get why, because most people try to talk jumpers down, not jump with them, and that's probably not in Murtaugh's rulebook. He's confused and he's angry and that only pushes Riggs even higher, wires him to blow. The jump came close. He's running on adrenaline even before he dives off the roof; he's ready to do it again when he lands because he can. Nothing broke, he's energised, he's amazing, he can't die.
The rush is incredible. Every cell in his body tingles, buzzing with too much energy for him to possibly burn off. Everything's shaking. He knows he can't fly but he's just done a credible imitation, and everyone watching from the ground thinks he's completely lost it now - his new partner too.
But he wasn't trying to die. Murtaugh doesn't get it. Murtaugh has him with the barrel under his chin, ready to pull the trigger and splatter his brains all over the floor. No chance of recovery, no chance of salvation. It's like a staring contest: first one to blink loses. Riggs has the advantage - he doesn't care who wins. If he does it like this, it's not really him doing it, is it? This is like all those times in the field, where it's someone else's finger on the trigger and he just happens to be there. This one will be Murtaugh's fault, even if Riggs is the one holding the gun - and he'll do it, too. He knows Murtaugh will stop him in time. There's no danger, only the thrill of pushing someone else as close to the edge as he stands himself, tension ready to ignite in a shower of sparks.
Riggs is willing to die. He won't walk away. It's Murtaugh who breaks first, shaking and panicked as if he'd been the one with a gun pressed up against his skin. Now he really does think Riggs is crazy, and there's not a lot Riggs can say to that, is there? Not when he's already admitted he's living day-to-day, having to find reasons not to shoot himself whenever he wakes up, alone and miserable and with no end in sight. Can't argue with the truth and no point in lying. There are a million things he could say - maybe put his new partner's mind at rest, maybe disturb him even more - but he can't get any of them out, his mouth forming shapes without substance, without voice.
In the end, all he can talk about is something trivial and unrelated. Something objective, something safe, where the words can flow freely. He's coming down now, tension seeping from his muscles, and it leaves him tired and lacking. Food helps. Watching The Three Stooges helps. Looking after Sam helps. Anything that allows him to switch off, stop thinking, stop his mind wandering over that same painful ground, day after day. There's nothing like walking into a rain of gunfire and knowing - hoping? - he might not make it out alive; that's as good a distraction as anything they show on TV.
Maybe not for Murtaugh, though. Riggs might not like being set up with a partner, and Murtaugh might not like it any better, but they're stuck with each other and Murtaugh's got people who need him. People who love him, who'll miss him if he catches a bullet in the wrong place. Riggs doesn't have anyone like that, not anymore.
Or so he'd thought. Murtaugh might've been the one telling him to pull the trigger - but he'd also been the one to stop Riggs from doing it.