Title: Wash It All Away
Author: i luv ewansmile
Summary: Something goes terribly wrong. It wasn't supposed to be like this. It was a simple job. No one was supposed to get hurt. Complete one-shot. Michael/Fiona/Sam.
Disclaimer: Sadly I do not own Burn Notice. This is just for fun, not for profit. I promise to put them back when I'm done playing with them.
Author's Note: I wanted to try out a different style of writing so here you go. It's a one-shot. Hope you enjoy. Please leave a review on your way out. Thank you.
It's amazing how such good preparations could lead to such destruction in such a short amount of time. The job had been simple really, until it turned south and the team was scrambling to get out of the bad situation in whole pieces.
Sam had retreated back to the Charger, slinging the car around to pick up Mike and Fiona.
You know how when someone gets shot in the movies, that time seems to come to a standstill? Well it doesn't. No, the world didn't pause nor did the sound suddenly mute becoming deathly quiet. The opposite happens in fact.
The sound of the rifle being fired pierced the air with a loud cry and echoed for miles around. The round hit Michael's chest with deadly accuracy and the strangled cry from his throat made Sam's gut churn. The spray of red that covered Fiona's hair and face seemed unnaturally bright in color and she seems stunned into paralyzes as it happens. Sam flings open the car door and grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her down into the car.
She watches with dead eyes as Sam drags Michael's body and hefts it into the backseat of the Charger. Silent tears roll down her face as her jaw clinches in rage, her tears angry and bitter as a piece of her heart slowly dies.
When the car comes to a halt outside of Michael's loft Fiona seethes her blood boiling wondering how Sam could dare to drive her back to Michael's, the searing pain her heart too fresh to face the memories they shared here. Maybe that's why she doesn't realize Sam is yelling at her to help him, forcing him to fire off a round to gain her attention.
Her shoulders jerk in surprise and she turns to see Sam holding the smoking gun and only then does she see as he rips off Michael's shirt the miracle that nearly makes her heart start beating again. The black bulletproof vest was nearly the most beautiful thing she had ever seen.
A gasp of joy escapes her lips as she collapses next to her wounded lover. Sam unhooks the clasps and slides the vest away and Fiona's eyes widen in horror as she sees the hole in his chest. She vaguely makes out Sam telling her that the wound is not deep that he'd be okay if they could get it out in time. But all she can do is stare wide eyed at Michael's face. She becomes mesmerized with the dark color of his eyelashes as they lay softly on his cheeks because his eyes are closed and how strangely peaceful he looks as if he were only sleeping.
Sam's strong hands grasp hers firmly and lead them to rest on the wounded man's chest. She feels an odd sensation to run when warmth oozes under her palms. "Sam!" She calls out desperately but the howling wind drains the vigor from her voice.
Years of skill in the field have treated the retired Navy SEAL well as he takes over. Digging for high caliber rounds in your friend's chest is never a pleasant chore but Sam says blessings under his breath for his patient being unconscious for this experience. Several agonizing minutes later Sam grunts in disdain before holding his breath, closing his eyes and slowly pulling his hand back. There clasped between the slender knife and his finger is a piece of metal that had failed at its task.
The storm clouds descend swiftly and decide that now is the moment to make its presence known with a loud boom foreshadowing the down pour that preceded it the next second. "Help me get him inside." Sam grunts slinging Michael's limp body over his shoulders. They struggle up the stairs. Their adrenaline being spent, all three collapse in a pile, one foot within the door.
A guttural groan is heard between Sam and Fiona causing their heads to snap up in attention, dart to look at each other and then down to Michael who lolls his head to the side and whispers his complaint, "You dropped me?" Fiona lets out a sound half way between a cry and a laugh at the sound of his voice. "You're alright," she breathes before looking indulgent, "It was Sam's fault." But no one laughs and no ones lips curve up into a smile.
Sam and Fiona seem to hold their breath wondering if the spell would break. The rain comes in sideways, blowing through the open door. Michael's hand comes up, the back of his fingers graze across her cheeks, helping the rain to wash all his blood and her tears away.