My name is Fiona Glenanne McBride (Westen) and I have had a lot of days in my life that I could characterize as the worst.
The day my baby sister was shot and killed. The day that I woke up to find that the love of my life had left in the middle of the night with no goodbye. The day that a woman I didn't know called to tell me that the same man was half dead in a hotel room in Miami and that I was listed as his Emergency Contact. The days that flowed up and down like a roller coaster of doom and gloom for the next four years. The day he up and left again. The day my mother in law died with out so much as a goodbye.
I've had bad days before the events surrounding my husbands extraction and I've had bad days since.
But it was defiantly right up there.
I think I was still shocked when I finally reached Sam on the phone. My hands shook, my whole damn body shook.
"They've taken him." I whispered.
"Fiona?"
"Sam they've taken him."
"Fi what's going on who-."
"Michael! They took Michael!"
"Are you okay? Are the kids okay?"
"No! They are not okay, they are soaked in tear gas and their father has been taken!" I remember screaming. "It was a team. A damned extraction team. I told you. I told you!"
"Mommy?" Claire's croak knocked me out of my rant. I turned my head towards her.
"Baby girl." I didn't realize I'd used Michael's nick name for her until her brown eyes looked eerily around the room. "It's okay Claire."
"Fiona where are you? Fi?" Sam was asking me firmly. I traced my fingers over Claire's puffy red face.
"Daddy.." She cried softly, tears still streaming from her red burning eyes.
"It's okay it's okay." I repeated.
"Fiona? Where are you?" Sam begged in my ear. I tilted the phone towards a nurse and spoke in French to her.
"Please tell him where we are." I murmured before focusing back on my daughter.
…...
When Sam came, Claire had completely lost it. I hate that she tries to be so strong for me, not that I'm not proud, but I'm her mother and I should be protecting her.
On that particular day I wasn't capable of protecting anyone.
"That is not true." Sam looked at me pointedly, cuddling Claire tightly against his chest and rocking her like she was still a baby. She's stopped sobbing and was now sniffling somewhat quietly. "You got them out." His eyebrows rose swiftly.
"Michael got them out. He told me to go.. I didn't even.."
"Fi, You got the kids out of there and went back. You did everything right."
"I didn't notice an extraction team at my window." She snapped. "What's so right about that?"
"He'll get out." I shook my head. He looked down at Claire, moving the hair from her now sleeping face. I stood up and walked over to where my son was. They'd sedated him to treat his eyes. His eyes. My baby needed to be treated for tear gas. "He's Michael Westen."
"No. No Sam he's not." I shook my head, turning back to look at him. "He's not. He hasn't even fired a gun in three years Sam."
"You don't forget, Fi." Sam told her softly.
"We don't know who. Or where. Or why.."
"I'm calling Jesse." Sam sighed, pulling out his phone before pressing a kiss to Claire's head. "You need to tell him exactly what happened."
Exactly what happened was still kind of hazy. I remember the sting in my shoulder when the glass broke. I remember the look on Michael's face. I remember fighting, clawing, choking. Then I remember Michael's body knocking the man away.
"The kids!" He'd yelled and I'd thrown myself backwards. He'd said something to me as I pushed up from the two little huddled balls in the backseat. Something I couldn't make out. Something he'd needed me to hear. I'd screamed his name again, He'd knocked the man's arm away from his throat long enough to scream at me. "GO FIONA GO!" I stepped back onto the gas petal and dropped into the seat. He yelled something else. Something I didn't hear.
I pulled into a market place, screaming at a woman selling fruit that my children were hurt. Pointing frantically at the car before running back to Michael.
I don't know what he said. What he'd tried to tell me. The noise in my head had echoed so loudly I hadn't heard him. Hadn't focused. Hadn't thought of anything else but the fact that he was being taken away. Again.
I'd failed him. I'd failed Claire and Maddox and Sam.. and myself. And nothing Sam Axe or Jesse Porter could say would make that less true.
…...