Seeing Madeline standing outside the building as he walked off the plane was very much welcomed. Michael had gone through hell and back to get out of Panama, so it was nice to see a friendly face. But the conversation he had with her wasn't as easy as he would have liked. Fiona wanted him to tell the truth, and so did he, but he didn't want her to get hurt. He had already asked a lot of her by canceling the flight of Panama. So he lied to her. But when he came to visit his childhood house the next day, all of his emotions came rushing over him. In all his years as a spy, he had never had a reaction to seeing a loved one like he did when he saw his mother after walking into the house. He wasn't sure what it was, but something about finally finding the man who had murdered his brother and seeing his mother after knowingly lying to her, it made everything he felt when he watched Nate die wash over him again, so he collapsed into her arms when she walked over to him. He tried to hold himself together, but he forgot how comforting it was to hug your mother after such a harrowing ordeal like he had just been through. He felt tears well up in his eyes and tried to hold them back, but a sob racked his six foot frame and that's when he realized that Madeline was really starting to get really worried.
"Michael, sweetheart," she said as she comfortingly rubbed her son's back. "What's the matter? Tell me what's wrong, honey." He sensed her panic and tried to pull himself together. When he noticed the tear stains on her shirt, he mustered enough energy to say something.
"I'm fine, Ma," he said. He hadn't even convinced himself, but he hoped beyond hope that he had convinced her. He had already embarrassed himself enough for the day.
"Michael, you're far from okay," Madeline said with her usual conviction. She then lead her eldest son to the couch. "Sit down. Tell me what's wrong, baby," she asked. Michael tediously sat down. "Do you need anything?" she asked as she sat on the edge of the couch next to her son. She moved a strand of hair out of Michael's eyes before placing a hand on his cheek.
"Really, Ma, I'm fine," he said, trying to reassure his worried mother that he was okay. But both he and Madeline saw through his words. He looked like the little boy that had so many times stood up to his father and then faltered under his drunken yelling. It pained her to see him like this, but she knew how stubborn he was and that she wouldn't be able to take his pain away, even if she tried. She made herself a little more comfortable on the couch and that's when Michael let his hand wonder over to hers and intertwined his fingers with hers. Madeline smiled softly at the gesture and softy squeezed his hand. Michael wanted to tell his mother about everything that was going on, but he knew that once he started, he wouldn't be able to hold himself together and he knew his mother wouldn't hear any of it, especially in the state that he was in. So he shifted around on the couch and crawled up next to her in a little ball, much like when a child doesn't feel good and just wants to be with their mother. Madeline wrapped her arm around Michael's shoulders and rubbed his back comfortingly, her heart breaking even more. She planted a soft kiss on his head, fighting back tears.
"I love you, Michael," she said softly against the temple of his head. "You know that, right?" she asked. Tears welled up in Michael's eyes again and he tried as much as he could to stop himself from crying, but he couldn't.
"I love you too, Ma," he said, his voice cracking. He cuddled as close to his mother as he could, resting his head against her shoulder. Madeline pulled Michael in as close as she could before planting another kiss on his head. They stayed like that for a few minutes in silence, Michael appreciating the fact that Madeline wasn't asking any questions. His tears were, luckily, starting to subside when sleep started to take over. He hadn't slept well ever since he flew out to Panama and now that he was in the comforting embrace of his mother, it all started to crash in on him and his eyes started to droop from sleepiness. He buried his face into her chest sleepily and that's when Madeline noticed Michael's breathing started to slow down and softy smiled to herself when she realized that he was starting to fall asleep. She attempted to moved, but Michael's eyes flew open when he felt her trying to get up.
"Stay," he said very quietly. He knew how childish he sounded, but he couldn't remember feeling that comforted from having his mother that close since he was a little child. Madeline smiled and leaned back against the couch again.
"Get some rest, sweetheart," she said softly as she rubbed her baby boy's back. "You need it." Michael sleepily smiled at her comment, unaware of how much he really needed the maternal love he was getting. He had always thought of his mother as too protective, but now that he really needed that maternal instinct, he was glad to have it.
"I love you, Mom," he said one last time before sleep over took him.
"I love you too, baby," Madeline said, suppressing the urge to cry one last time.