A/N: Written in Paul's POV all the way through. Warnings for: Non-con, nothing graphic, just mentioned.
Chapter 1: What's in a lie?
Spotting Mike, I walked up behind him and wrapped his arms around his waist. He seemed startled. It was cute. I laughed, and whispered in his ear.
"Babe, wanna go out tonight? Somewhere quiet." I hinted. It meant the little shack on the beach that Johnny, Lisa and I had built: where Mike and I had our first kiss. I was playing with the hem of his shirt when he froze, and tensed suddenly under my touch. He wasn't like this before. I heard his breath quicken and grow ragged, stuck in his chest, along with his thumping heart. This just wasn't right. He tried to hide it, but I caught on. "Mikey, what's wrong with you?" To say I was worried was an understatement, "You've been… distant." He was distant. We hadn't slept together in over a week. I removed my arms, and Mike spun around. He avoided eye contact.
"Paul. Can we take a break?" He seemed tired. Not sleepy, but drained of energy.
"A break?" I exhaled, "Why, Mikey?
"I need space." Wait, what? There was silence for a moment, then Mike spoke again, "Are we done?" Just like that? There has to be a reason. Was Mike cheating? – He wouldn't. I asked him anyway.
"Did you cheat?" I whispered. I soon as I said it, I regret it. Mike looked hurt, even broken…by my words, "Look, Mike –" I tried to fix it, but it was too late.
"Shut up, Briggs." He ran up to his room and locked the door.
I thought about him, and that night, objectively from then on. Mike was an agent; I was supposed to train him. Agent Michael Warren, and his training officer, Paul Briggs – that's all we were supposed to be. I had to admit, he was talented, strong and resourceful. Thing is, he couldn't lie for shit.
Something was wrong with that kid. Mike just wasn't the same after his last op with Bello. He broke up with me, for God's sake. He barely ate, always having an excuse to stay locked up in his room. Come to think of it, he was drinking a lot more too. He clearly didn't sleep either, considering it was 2am. I needed to find out what was wrong with him.
I looked around the house, and seeing that he wasn't in his bedroom, I checked the kitchen. Nothing. I checked the living room. I found Mike facing the wall. With his back hunched, and his shoulders shaking, it looked like he was crying.
"Mike?" I stepped into the room, making my presence known. He wiped his face on his sleeve and cleared his throat, "What's going on?"
"I d-don't know what you're talking about, Briggs…" Mike speech was slurred, he'd been drinking. I tried again.
"You haven't been the same since that last Op with Bello," I saw him flinch when I mentioned Bello, "what happened, Mike?"
"N-Nothing." Mike turned to face me and raised his voice, "Nothing happened!" he shouted, pointing a finger at me. Making my way over to Mike, I sat beside him.
"Talk to me…please." I pleaded with him. Mike was hurting and I hated seeing him like that. Not being able to help him was the worst. He shook his head, looking utterly defeated.
"Bello… H-he…" Mike's voice cracked as he ran his fingers through his hair, "I w-wasn't s-strong enough." He didn't have to finish. I knew what had happened, and it was my fault. That son of a bitch, Bello hurt Mike. I'm gonna kill him. Screw the mission. I'm gonna fucking kill him: slowly and painfully.
I moved to touch Mike…rub his arm; pat his back…something to comfort him. He wasn't having any of that, and jerked his arm away from my grasp.
"He r…" Mike was overcome by a fit of sobs, before clearing his throat. "He r-raped me." He was quiet, and there was a heavy silence. I didn't want to touch him, and I didn't know what to say.
"Oh, Mike." I said tentatively, "Did you tell anyone?" he shook his head, "Did you go to the hospital?" he shook his head again; "You're coming with me. Let's go." I grabbed my coat and waited for him. He made no attempt to move. "Mike? Did you hear me?"
He jumped, "Huh? Yeah…" I cocked an eyebrow, expecting some sort of movement. Nothing. "I'm tired, Briggs."
"You'll sleep when we get back, alright?" I hoped my tone was soothing enough. Something so simple would never make up for me accusing him, or failing to shelter him from a mission he clearly wasn't ready for, but it was a start. Mike had a slight limp as he hobbled over to me. I hadn't noticed it before. I put his arm around my shoulder and led him to my jeep.
The clinic's closed, and the nearest hospital is….
"Hold on, Mike." We started driving down the road in silence, but apparently Mike wanted to talk.
"I'm sorry I was so weak." I wanted to pull over and scream at him. That it wasn't his fault, that I should have respected his space, that he'd done nothing wrong. But I didn't. Screaming at him just didn't seem like the right thing to do…
"It's not your fault, Mike."
"I'm an FBI agent, for god's sake." Seems the liquor had loosened his tongue, which was a good thing, depending on what side you're on, "And I couldn't fight him off, even with all my training. I'm a real fuck-up." He started to cry, burying his head in his hands.
"Did you break your cover?" He shook his head. I knew he would, "You're not a fuck-up. I never wanna hear you talk about yourself like that again, you hear me?" Mike nodded slowly, wiping his eyes.
I pulled into the parking lot of the hospital. Service entrance, of course – still got to keep that cover intact. We wouldn't be here long anyway. Two nurses ushered him inside. He came back out, about half an hour later, with his hands bandaged and a bottle of painkillers. "Ready to go?" I asked. He nodded. We went to the jeep, and drove home in silence. Those bandages didn't sit well with me – Mike didn't need them. If he did, there would be blood on my shirt. Aw, screw it. I can deal with this another time.
I escorted him inside.
"I'm sorry I couldn't protect you, Mike." Mike paused for a second. He looked at me with red-rimmed eyes and nodded. A small smile tugged at his lips for a second.
"Thanks…but I don't need you to feel sorry for me."
I shrugged and took him upstairs, and into his room. I was going to excuse myself, but he nonchalantly took off his shirt. The bandages went from his hands to just below his armpit, a pale purple bruise stretched across his chest. That was just what I could see. Bello really did a number on him. I eased him into bed and turned off the light. I wanted to kiss him, but I didn't want to rush anything, it could do more harm than good.
"Night." I whispered through the darkness. I was closing the door when I heard him speak.
"Paul, wait." I smiled. Paul. At least one thing was back to normal.
"Yeah Mike?"
"…Could you stay with me, please?" he begged. I couldn't leave him like that, right? He quickly did a double take, "I mean these painkill-"
"Sure thing." I leaned back onto the couch in the corner of his room. It wasn't as comfortable as my bed, but that didn't matter. I had to be there for Mike. After all, it was my fault Bello had attacked him.
"Goodnight, Paul."
"Night, Mike."
