Here's my obligatory post-finale fic. ;) I found I needed to write in order to digest everything they threw at us. This particular fic is complete, but I'm sure there will be more to come while we wait for June.

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The strap on these sandals had rubbed the sides of my pinky toes raw, and now, as I stood in Madeline's living room and the sun retired for the evening, I finally noticed the pain. I sat down in one of her armchairs and pulled them off. The skin underneath looked angry and red. I tenderly ran a finger over one of them and marveled at this external mirror of how I felt. After the last few days we'd had…my kidnapping case that ended up going so badly, Michael's disastrous mission with Gilroy, a near miss with the bombing in the hotel, losing Michael to Simon and Management and the Feds and then who knows what, dealing with his mother and the charges against her…after all of that, the core of my being, my heart and soul were as raw and jagged as these two small spots on my tiniest appendages.

I heard a door shut in the back of the house and Sam's tired footsteps approached the back of the chair.

"She's out cold now," he told me, his voice strained.

I turned around to look at him. "You gave her something?"

He ran a hand through his hair. "Yeah, I gave her something. She should sleep until tomorrow morning at least. She needs it."

"Yeah." I knew I should say more but I just couldn't find the energy to search for the words. I turned back around and stared at my hands in my lap.

"Listen," Sam said. "I'm going to go next door to change and check in with Ms. Reynolds. Are you okay here?"

I nodded slowly. "Yeah…yes…that's fine," I finally found the words. "Take your time, get some sleep. I…I just…I can't…not right now, so you…"

He laid a hand on my shoulder. It was strong and yet gentle. "He's going to be back, Fi. It's going to be okay."

I couldn't look him in the eye, but I nodded slowly in agreement, or at least appeasement.

"Okay," he said. "I'll be back later. Call if you need anything."

After the door shut behind him, an overpowering quiet came over the house. It was more than just quiet actually, it was a stillness, like the energy had been sapped from everything and now there was just a void in the cavernous hole left by Michael's disappearance.

I considered turning on the TV or the radio, but the stillness covered me like a lead blanket and I found that I couldn't bring my muscles to move from this chair. I propped my bare feet up on Maddie's coffee table and let my head fall back against the cushion.

My eyelids fluttered just for a moment, but before I knew it there was someone rubbing my shoulder incessantly.

"Fi! Fi!"

It was impossible that I was really hearing the voice I thought I was hearing.

"Fiona!"

I cracked open one eye and then immediately the other. Michael was there, sitting across from me on the table, rubbing my shoulder and looking at me intently.

My mouth opened involuntarily but nothing came out. There were no words and all that escaped was a mangled sigh as my voice cracked and tears started to flow down my cheeks. I grabbed the collar of his shirt in my fist and pulled him fiercely towards me, feeling the desperate need to bury my face in his neck. I clutched at his hair and the back of his shirt as my body started to heave with the anxious, built-up sobs of the long, emotional day.

Michael did not say much more than just my name, mumbled over and over again against my skin. His voice was still rough and hoarse like it had been earlier. His hands rubbed my back and tangled in my hair. I don't know how long we sat like that, but eventually I felt his warm breath on my ear and I heard him whisper, "Fiona, I need to talk to you. I can't stay much longer…I have to go…"

"Go where, Michael?" I pulled back to look at his face. It was tired and taunt. He looked like he'd aged ten years since I'd last seen him drive off after Simon. "Take me with you. Let's take them on together."

"Fiona, you know you can't come with me this time. Please. I need you…I need you to…" he couldn't seem to finish the sentence.

"I can help. I can back you up. You need my help. I know how to-"

"No," his voice was hard and cold but his hand gently brushed the hair off my brow. "No, I need you here. I need you with my mom and I need you to be here when I get back. I can't…" His eyes were bright. "I can't do this if I don't have you to come back to."

"Michael…I…"

"Please Fi, don't argue with me this time. You know as well as I do it's too dangerous for you. Management might be protecting me, but they don't give a damn about you. And if you get hurt again, if the government gets a hold of you, if I lost you again…" His voice caught in his throat.

"Come on, Michael!" My own voice was starting to rise. "I've lived here in Miami how long? And before that in New York…I would never have lasted this long if I wasn't careful. Michael, I know-"

"Damn it, Fi!" His shout echoed through the house, surprising us both. We sat quietly for a moment listening for any sound from Madeline's room.

Satisfied that she was still asleep we looked back to each other. He scooted closer to the edge of the table and he was so close I could feel his energy vibrating against my skin. He brought his hands up is to cup my face.

"Fiona," he whispered, getting ready to speak.

"Michael, I…" I tried to talk over him but his thumbs found my lips and pressed into them in an effort to silence me.

He rubbed one thumb back and forth over my bottom lip as he began to speak again. That distraction was enough to keep the words I knew I wanted to say from fully forming.

"Fiona Glenanne, I need you to stay here so that I know you're alright. I know…I know that you love me, and I know that you want to help but this is what I need from you right now. This is how you can help me." His voice grew so quiet that it was barely audible. "Please, Fi. Please," I heard the crack in it and my eyes started to water again.

"I'll be here, Michael. I'll be here, but you damn well better hurry up." My vision blurred as I started to cry again.

He smiled. "I will Fi. I…You know I…"

I closed my eyes to lean forward and kiss him.

"Fi." He started shaking me again.

"Fi. Fi, wake up."

My eyes shot open and suddenly Sam was there standing over me. My body froze as my eyes darted around the room. My heart leapt up and lodged itself in my throat.

"Sam?"

"Hey, you alright? I came back over to get some Advil and you were crying in your sleep." He sat down in the other armchair.

I was feeling overwhelmed again, confused. "Michael…he was…he was right here."

"No Fi, I've been watching all night from next door. Michael wasn't over here, you were just dreaming."

"No Sam, you're wrong," I was starting to yell again, and shake. I stood up to get a better look at the room. "He was here, he was right here. He must have come in from the back where you couldn't see him. He was right here." I was spinning, looking around the room for any sign of Michael. For any proof that he'd been here, that it was real and he was still alive. "You just missed him Sam, he was right here."

"Fi," Sam clamped both hands on my shoulders to stop my spiraling panic. "Fi, you need to lie down. We'll talk about this in the morning when you've gotten some sleep." He started walking me down the hall towards the guest room.

"Sam, you're wrong. He was here, he needs our help."

"I'm sure he does, Fi," Sam's voice remained steady. "But we're not going to be any good to Michael worked up like this."

We passed a mirror and I caught a glance at my own face. It was mottled and red and streaked from tears.

"Okay. Okay, Sam." I jerked out of his grip and stood there in the doorway to the bedroom facing him down. "Fine. You're right. I'll get some sleep." I leaned in to wag a finger in his face. "But you'd better be ready first thing tomorrow morning. Do you hear me? Michael needs us and we've got work to do here. You'd better not let him down."

Sam started backing away down the hall again. "Don't worry, Fi," he nodded gravely. "I wouldn't dream of it."