Wrong Turn
By RascalFlattsS
A/N: Wow, three chapters in one night! I'm on a roll! I deserve a prize……
Disclaimer, summary, spoiler alerts, warnings, ect… Still the same. Still don't own Burn Notice. Still a bummer. Aw well.
Here ya go-a nice long chapter to hold you over till I can update again.
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Chapter 3: The Bonds of Friendship
Sam Axe was the type of man to believe in luck. Nor was he the type of man who prayed. After everything he had seen—all the violence, all the needless killing, after watching countless men and women die…it just didn't make any sense to him anymore.
But as he found himself racing to the Warf, he found himself praying for the first time in years.
Please don't let him die…Please don't take him from me….Please just let him be okay….Please….
Later when Sam would reflect on that day, he found that he was extremely lucky that he didn't get pulled over, despite the fact that he was going 60 mph in what could only really be described as a "not" 60 mph zone. And he would consider himself lucky for not getting into an accident-even though were a few close calls.
Lucky was definitely on Sam Axe's side that day. He just prayed that it was also on Michael Westen's side as well.
Even though it probably only took ten minutes to get to the Warf, it felt like an eternity. Sam didn't even remember to put the car in gear before he was out and running.
"Mike!" he screamed. "MIKE!" There was no response. Sam shook his head, trying to keep the panic and fear at bay. He pulled out his cell phone and dialed Michael's phone number.
Please ring, please ring, please ring…
"RING!" shouted Sam into the phone. Sure enough, off to his left, Sam heard the sound of a familiar ringtone playing. Sam took off running in that direction.
Within a hundred yards, Sam saw the still form of a figure lying on the ground. Sam felt his heart drop as he realized who it was. He raced towards the figure and collapsed next to it in the sand.
"No," Sam breathed as he starred down at Michael's still form. His face was deathly pale. Sam looked down and noticed the large pool of blood on the sand underneath Michael's right leg. He touched the balled up jacket over the wound, held tightly in place by the belt. Sam relaxed a little when he didn't feel any fresh blood from the wound.
Sam reached up two shaky fingers to Michael's neck to feel for a pulse. He sighed in relief when he felt the steady pulse underneath his fingers.
"Oh thank God," breathed Sam, his eyes watering up with tears. Mike was alive. He looked up towards the sky. "Thank you."
Sam wiped his hand across his face. He tapped his hand across Michael's face. "Mike! Mike!" He shouted. There was no response. Sam shook Michael's shoulder. "Mike! Mike!" He then tapped Michael's face a little bit harder, "MIKE!"
Michael shifted and groaned. He opened his eyes slightly slowly.
Sam sighed. "Oh thank God, Mikey. You really had me worried?"
"Sam?" gasped Michael as he blinked the bright sunlight out of his eyes.
"Of course it's me," joked Sam lightly. "Who else did you think it was? The tooth fairy?" Michael tried to set up but Sam pushed him back down. "Easy Mike."
"What?" asked Michael, confusion clouding his eyes.
"Jeez Mike, you forget already?" asked Sam. "You were shot, remember?"
"Hard to forget," gasped Michael in pain.
Sam lifted up the jacket. Michael gasped in pain and tried to move away from Sam. "Easy Mike. I just need to take a look at the wound."
"How bad?" asked Michael.
Sam sighed. "Well it's not good. Most of the bleeding has stopped, thanks to the tourniquet. But you've still lost a lot of blood. You need a hospital."
"No," gasped Michael. He shook his head. "Take me back to the loft."
"Are you crazy?" asked Sam.
"Trick question?" asked Michael grinning slightly. The grin did turn quickly into a grimace.
Sam rolled his eyes. "Mikey, this isn't a little shoulder wound. The bullet looks like it did some damage and it looks to be deep. This isn't surgery you can do in the living room."
"You did it for Sean," gasped Michael.
Sam sighed. "That was different," he said slowly. And it was different. This was his best friend…Sam wasn't going to risk his life…he had already almost lost Michael once today; he'd be damn if he was going to lose Michael again…
Sam swallowed hard trying to fight back all the emotions. He shook his head. "Enough talk Mikey. We need to get you to a hospital. Do you think you can stand and walk to the car if I help you?"
"Yes," said Michael. Sam grabbed his hand and pulled him up to a stand position. The moment a little weight was placed on his leg, it collapsed underneath him. Michael would have fallen forward had Sam not grabbed his arm and held him upright.
"Easy Mikey," said Sam. He pulled Michael's arm over his shoulder and took all the weight. "Just lean on me Mikey. Let me do all the work."
Michael nodded, "Not a problem Sam."
The progress to the car was long and slow. After five minutes, Sam and Michael reached the car. Sam helped Michael into the car before getting in the car himself.
"How are you doing Mikey?" asked Sam.
"I've been better," gritted Michael. His eyes were closed and he was gripping the seat so tight his knuckles turned white.
"Just hang on Mikey," said Sam. "We're almost there."
Michael cracked in eye open. "Liar. We're at least twenty minutes from the loft."
"I told you Mikey," said Sam, "we're not going to the loft; we're going to the hospital."
"But I'm fine," whined Michael.
"Now who's the liar?" asked Sam.
"Sam, I can't," whispered Michael. "I can't go to the hospital."
"Yes you can," said Sam. "Especially since I'm driving."
Michael shook his head. "No. Can't explain. Police," he gasped.
Sam nodded. With any mention of a gunshot wound, the hospital was obligated to call the police. And for a burnt spy who was suppose to be keeping his nose clean, that could be a problem.
"We'll figure something out," said Sam. "And we'll figure out something to tell the police. We can worry about that later, okay?"
"But Gilroy-"started Sam. "And Larry?"
"Don't worry about them, right now okay?" said Sam. "First let's get you to the hospital and get you better and then we can deal with Gilroy and Larry, okay?"
"But-" Michael started.
"No buts, Mike!" shouted Sam. "You have a gunshot wound in your leg and are bleeding out by the liter! So you are going to the hospital if I have to drag you there myself! Nothing-and I mean nothing- is not important than your life! Understand?!"
Michael nodded. Sam smiled, "Good." He turned his attention back to driving. There were several moments of silence until…
"Sam?"
"Yeah Mikey?"
"I'm sorry," said Michael.
"About what?" asked Sam, puzzled. "Getting shot? Because I don't think that was your fault."
Michael shook his head. "About Gilroy. I should have listened to you." He took a deep breath. "And I'm sorry."
"Oh Mikey," sighed Sam. "I'm the one who should be sorry. I let you go into a dangerous meeting without any backup because I was angry and you—you got hurt." Sam shook his head, blinking rapidly.
"You came and got me," said Michael.
"Of course, I did," said Sam. "You've been there for me when I needed it. That's what friends are for."
Michael nodded. "That's what friends are for," he agreed.
Sam smiled as he saw the hospital. He pulled into the parking lot. He put the car in park and got out. He ran over to the passenger side and helped Michael out.
"You ready?" asked Sam as they limped-Sam was once again supporting most of Michael's weight.
"No," said Michael, shaking his head, fear creeping into his voice.
"Don't worry Mikey," said Sam. "Everything is going to be okay."
Michael nodded. "Why? You going to hold my hand?" he asked jokingly.
Sam laughed. "You'd better believe it! That's what friends are for."
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All right, that seems like a good place to end-that and I should probably go study and whatnot.
Please R&R! Your reviews are always appreciated and they are very helpful in encouraging me to update the story and adding to the story. Plus, they make me happy! :-D