Authors note: Some of the dialogue is taken straight from TV show during season 1 because the story is how the time would've been different if Micahel had had a daughter. There is no copyright infringment intended.

Burn Notice:

ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

Season 1

Chapter 1:

Macy's POV

Growing up I never really had any contact with my dad. He was always somewhere overseas. No one knew where he was. He gave us no way to contact him, he gave us no way to talk to him. Eventually, I was sure I didn't need him anyway; my dad, Michael Westen. Over the course of my life, I may have been with him all of three months. My mom said he was there when I was born, my first birthday, and every once in a while he'd make a guest appearence in my life.

It was hard having a dad I didn't know or ever see. I really just wanted him to be with me, I wanted to know he loved me; at least until I was in the fifth grade and there was a father-daughter dance. I hadn't spoken to him since Christmas of the past year and it was almost spring. I got a call just a week before the dance and he promised to be there... the first dance I ever was going to go to, I got stood up, by my own father.

I asked my mom why he was always gone, why I didn't even really know my own father, and why he didn't love me, but she said he did love me and that's why he stayed away (and that made no sense whatsoever). If he cared, he'd be with me.

I never cried so much as I had that night he didn't show up to take me to the father daughter dance. I was used to him not being around, but after he told me he'd be there I'd told everyone I'd have my dad there, I was so proud at the one father-daughter thing I'd get to do, but it wasn't meant to be.

Only a few months after my dad didn't show up, my mother got into a car wreck and passed away. Not even then did my dad come home. I got a call and he made a brief appearence at her funeral, but I didn't even get to talk to him before he left. We made eye contact once and then I didn't see him again. I suspected that much, though. He was never around, he hadn't even married my mom.

No one else had seen him at the funeral, they said I was seeing things out of grief and sent me to a counselor. The only thing was I wished I hadn't seen him. He was the last person on Earth I wanted to see, he didn't care about us, he was never around.

My Grandma Westen took me in. She said she was lonely after grandpa died and she took care of me. She tried to build my father up to me. She told me stories of how nice he was, how much he cared for his family, and plenty of other stories, but they never helped. Uncle Nate, on the other hand, didn't have great things to say about him. He constantly reminded me of when he threw the phonebook at my dad's head.

My life was running smoothly, I was almost a freshman in high school. I was only 14. I didn't think about my dad much until grandma decided to drone on and on about how great he was (and Uncle Nate would roll his eyes and make faces and retell a story in a different way).

I thought everything would stay the same in my life for a long time. I hoped it would, so when I was 17 and had graduated high school I could change them all up and run away to pursue music.

Music was the one thing that was constant in my life. My mom was dead; my dad was never around, I hadn't spoken to him in nearly four years; my grandma always thought she was going to die, she was perfectly healthy (well as healthy as she could be smoking like a train and all); Uncle Nate was always on the run from someone he owed money. Music seemed to be the only thing I could rely on.

I walked out of my room with my headphones in listening to a new band. "Michael?" I heard my grandma say. "That's how you greet your mother?" She said. "I got it from your girlfriend... Fiona." She paused. Michael... she was talking to my dad. "Well, are you going to come see Macy and me?" She winked at me. "Come now then, you could drive me to the doctor." She said. "Yeah, well you'll figure something out." She said and hung up.

"My dad's here?" I asked. She smiled and nodded.

"He's coming to drive me to the doctor. You should come along, talk to him a little!"

"Honestly grandma," I said. "He's the last person I want to see."

"Oh honey," my grandma said. "You should come. I don't think I want to leave you all alone here in this neighborhood."

"I've stayed here alone many times before." I said.

"Well, I've changed my mind since then." She smiled. "You're coming."

I exhaled sharply and ploppd into the couch and turned my music up until I couldn't hear anything else and any other senses were heard. I shut my eyes and let the music take over my being. About 5 songs later I felt a hand on my shoulder, I jumped and my conciousness came back to reality.

I jumped away from the hand and hit my head on the coffee table.

"Macy," I barely heard my dad's voice. "Are you okay?"

"My God!" I yelled. "What's wrong with you? You can't just walk up behind people!" I took my headphones out of my ears and stopped the song playing on the iPod.

His eyes got wide and he crossed his arms. "Nice to see you too, Macy." He turned to my grandma. "Are you ready, ma?"

"Yes, Michael," Grandma Westen said. "Come on Macy, let's go."

"You're the one whose sick." I said. "Why should I have to go?"

"Macy," Grandma Westen hissed. "Get over here. You're coming and I don't want to hear anything else about it."

"Fine, but I'm not going to be happy about it," I glared at my dad and walked out the door and slammed it behind me. Just because I had to go with them didn't mean I had to be happy about it. I stuck my headphones back in and leaned against the car my dad had brought with him.

I stared at the floor with my headphones blaring in my ears. My dad reached back and hit my knee.

"Turn those down, you're going to go deaf." He said.

"Why don't you turn them off and join in the conversation, sweetie?" Grandma asked.

"Fine," I muttered and turned my iPod off.

"Things have gone to hell since you left," grandma said. "Thank God, you're back."

"I'm not back," my dad said quickly.

"You're here for the holidays though, you're staying for Christmas aren't you?" Grandma asked.

"Ma, don't smoke in the car." Dad said. "Please. It's not mine. Please." He looked up into the rearview mirror and sank lower into the seat (even though I could tell he wasn't looking at me in the first place).

"Well, Macy, you're so quiet back there," grandma said. "Why don't you talk to your dad?"

"I don't have anything to say to him." I said.

"Macy..." he started.

"I don't wanna hear it." I cut him off. He took in a deep breath and continued to drive. Suddenly, his driving got crazy. He sped up, he slowed down, and he signaled to turn right and turned left.

"Michael," Grandma said. "Where are you going? The hospital is on Twentieth."

"This is shortcut," he said and put his sunglasses on. "Mom, please, do not smoke in the car." He grabbed the ciggarette from her hand. "Do not smoke in the car." He threw it out the window and kept driving like he was insane.

"You know," Grandma said. "You missed your fathers funeral; by eight years."

"Well," dad made a sharp left turn. "Last time I saw him he said 'I'll see you in Hell, boy.' So I figured we had something on the books."

"Michael," grandma said. "The two of you were so much alike. I don't know why you had to antagonize him!"

"Mom," dad began. "We were nothing alike! Everything I did antagonized him; being alive antagonized him. Everything I did was a reason for him to slap me around."

He made a quick right turn and it threw me into the door. "What in the world?" I screamed.

"Michael, what are you doing?" Grandma asked, she looked back at me. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," I said. "Are you trying to get us killed?" I yelled at dad.

"Now, whose driving?" Dad hissed. "You or me?" He asked.

"OH MY GOD!" I yelled as we almost hit a gate. "Okay, I wanna walk!"

"Don't be ridiculous, Macy," Dad said.

"I'm not being ridiculous," I yelled. "Whatever or whoever is out there can't be any more dangerous than your driving!"

"I'm in control of this, Macy," he yelled.

"You were the one that kept the family going," grandma said, cutting off our argument. "After you left... everything just fell apart."

"Gee grandma thanks," I said. "Nice to know I'm appericiated."

"I wasn't talking about you," she said. "Before you. Your dad ran away from home at 17. Then he came back and had you..."

"And ran away again." I cut her off.

"I didn't run away," dad said.

"Then why do I barely know you?" I hissed.

"Macy," he said. "There's just..."

"Some things I can't understand?" I hissed. "I'm too young?"

"Macy," he said with a stronger tone.

"I haven't seen you in nearly four years." I said. "And you expect me to say 'Oh daddy! Welcome home!'" I yelled. "Yeah, well, not from me."

He sighed and everything got quiet. "Ma," he said. "I've been sending money. What about Nate?"

"Don't even get me started. Your brother is a mess." Grandma said.

"At least he's been there for me," I mummbled.

"Macy," Grandma hissed. "I don't wanna hear another remark out of your mouth."

I crossed my arms.

"You really should go see him Michael," grandma said.

"Ah, I don't think it's a good idea for us to see each other," dad said.

"Well, I do!" grandma yelled. "I can't take care of him and your daughter all by myself. I am sick!" She paused. "You know that I'm sick."

"Well, what I know," dad said. "Is that you've been treated for every disease known to man. I know this because I am paying all the bills!" I found one thing I agreed with my dad on, grandma wasn't sick.

"Just because they can't find out what's wrong with me..."

"Mom please," dad interrupted.

"Does not mean I'm not sick!" She yelled.

"Please!" Dad yelled back.

"Well, you don't know Michael," grandma said.

"Mother," Dad said through his teeth.

"I don't tell you everything that goes on!" she said.

"Ma, mom! I don't need to know everything!" I said.

"Well," grandma said.

"Stop." Dad interrupted.

"What?" she asked.

"Stop." Dad hissed. "Just stop." The car finally came to a stop in front of the hospital. "Look we're here." He said unenthusiastically.

"We are!" I smiled. "Great spending time with ya, dad." I patted his shoulder. "Now I think I'll just go. Kimmy lives two blocks away."

"I don't want you seeing Kimmy," grandma said. "She's a strange girl."

"She's perfectly normal, grandma," I said. "We're the strange ones."

"I want you to stay with your father," she said.

"I don't want to stay with him." I hissed.

"I don't care," she said. Dad didn't say a single thing, my guess is becuase, like every person, we were all a little afraid of Madeline Westen. "Are you coming in?" She asked my dad.

"No," he answered. "I have to make a phone call, ma." Grandma glared at him. "I'm right behind you, ma. Macy can keep you company until I come in."

"Fine, Michael," she hissed. "C'mon Macy." My grandma dragged me into the hospital. "I don't like the way you were talking to your father."

"And," I said.

"He's your father, Macy." Grandma said.

"Well, he should start acting like it," I said as we made our way through the doors.

"Madeline, Macy," the recpetionist greeted us. We'd been there so many times, we might as well have been staff.

"Gretchen," Grandma greeted her. "He's trying to, can't you see that?" Grandma asked me.

"I don't actually," I said. "He's been gone for four years. I haven't talked to him since before my mom died and now he's back, but he's ready to leave so fast." We sat down in the waiting room for the doctor we were getting ready to see. "As far as I'm concerned, that's not a father. He's not a father to me." My grandma looked away and I turned around to see dad standing there.

"Macy," he said. "I know I haven't been there in the past and..."

"Don't say you're going to try to be here more," I glared at him. "If you were trying to be here more you wouldn't be leaving so soon again." I pushed passed him and into the hallway. There were too many people staring in the office.

"Macy," dad followed me out. "You have to believe me when I say that staying away from you is the best thing I can do to protect you."

"You're a liar," I hissed. "All the other girls had their dad protecting them on the playground when they were in grade school. They'd fall off the swing and their dad would pick them up and take them for ice cream. I fell off the swing and got Uncle Nate laughing and telling me to get up and let him hold a dollar..." I hissed. "All the other girls had their dads next to them when they fell off their bike for the first time and scraped their elbows and knees up. I had the neighborhood kids running away as fast as possible so they wouldn't be blamed." I looked at him. "All the other girls had their dads at the father daughter dance in fifth grade. I got stood up by mine."

"Is that really what this is about?" dad hissed. "That stupid father-daughter dance?"

"It wasn't stupid to me," I bit my lip. He opened his mouth. "Just forget it." I shook my head and ran to the girls restroom, the one place he couldn't follow me. I breathed deeply and holding back the tears that came to my eyes, crying wouldn't fix anything, crying wouldn't turn this into a dream, crying would just bring more tears and an emotional moment with my dad (the last thing in the world I wanted).

So, I let the tears burn into anger and finally stormed out of the bathroom, passed my dad and plopped into a chair in the waiting room, praying he'd just leave me alone.