Chapter 7

The morning after Sam left Maddie's, Michael dragged Fiona with him to his mother's house. Fiona was unusually morose, but he couldn't fault her. They lost their friend yesterday, and he wanted to know how it came to this. His key nearly broke in the lock as he turned it and entered the house. "Ma! Ma, where are you?"

"Michael, there's no need to bust down the door!" Maddie came out of the kitchen with a cigarette in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. "What is the matter with you?" She glanced at Fiona and her breath sucked in as she saw the saddest look on her face. "What's going on?"

"Why didn't you or Sam tell me up front what was happening here? Instead, when I heard something in your voice, you got all sunny and denied anything was wrong. Why'd you do that, Ma?" He left Fi near the door and closed in on Maddie's space. Close enough to make her uncomfortable.

She set her cup on the table and tried on a small smile. "Michael, Fiona, I think we should sit down and talk over some coffee." Her eyes took on an edge. "Sit! Now!"

Michael dissented. He helped Fiona to a chair and seated her, then moved a chair closer to hers and settled in it. Maddie brought two steaming cups for them. The time she took to prepare their brew just the way they liked it served as a time for Michael to settle down and use his head and not his emotions to handle the situation. "Ma, why?"

"When we found out Fiona was blind, and then you called, it couldn't have been at a worse time. I was hoping it was only temporary. The doctor thought it would be! So...I thought maybe if I kept the truth from you, and stalled you with the visit to Nate, by the time you came home, she would be back to normal."

"And you thought hiding this from me was a good idea because..."

"You were on the road. I didn't want you taking unnecessary risks to come back to try and fix something that was beyond your control! I know you, Michael!"

"She meant well, Michael," Fiona spoke with a soft voice.

"I didn't want anyone to get hurt." She took a long drag on her cigarette. "if it helps any, Sam was completely against hiding this from you. And when he did, he did it under duress. So you can blame me for everything. It was my fault. I screwed up." Her eyes filled with tears. "Michael, I'm sorry."

Michael blinked and stared up at the ceiling, focusing on a hairline crack. "Ma, I'm not a little kid. I can handle bad news." He lowered his head and stared at her. "Next time, don't try to withhold the truth from me. Who knows what damage it might cause."

Maddie's eyes grew wide and her mouth dropped open. "What happened?"

"He hit Sam, hard." She turned her head toward Michael. "I know, the floor vibrated when he went down." She crossed her arms and sighed. "Anyway, now Sam is God only knows where. I was hoping maybe he would have come back and stayed with you."

"No, he never showed up last night." Maddie stubbed out her cigarette and leaned forward. "You have to find him and you two make up! He's your best friend, Michael!"

"I need more time, Ma. I...never mind." He stood, scraping his chair on the floor. "Fi, let's go."

"Michael, please, don't let it end this way."

He only glared at her and put on his sunglasses before leading Fiona out the front door.


At first, Michael thought that all the sorries in the world could never make up for betrayal. But time, as they say, worked to heal old wounds. He couldn't stay mad at Sam for long, especially after hearing his mother take responsibility. Their history ran too deep, and he knew that his friend was not only loyal, but he was also an honorable man. To think otherwise was, as Fiona put it, asinine. When Sam didn't show up at the loft to pick up his car and his things after several days of silence, Michael started to worry about him. He and Fiona drove to his apartment, but the manager had no idea where Sam was.

"He moved out a few days ago. Sorry, I don't know where he went. He gave me a PO box to send his security deposit to, but no other contact information."

"Thanks." Michael tried Sam's phone number for the hundredth time.

"We're sorry, the number you have reached has been disconnected."

Sam fell off the grid. Most people, if they wanted to disappear for awhile, would leave some kind of trail. But Sam Axe had been in covert ops; he knew how to fade away without detection. In desperation, Michael tried all their haunts, but none of the bartenders had seen him in weeks, since before the accident.

Now that he'd had time to think about it, he realized that Sam never meant for things to go the way they did. He was his best friend, and he would never intentionally hurt him. Although, that last punch did a good job. But Michael acknowledged to himself that he deserved it. He should have listened to Sam and accepted his apology.

He had to suspend his search when Fiona woke with a terrible headache. She broke down and took the meds the doctor prescribed, but it didn't help. He kept cold compresses on her head. She only writhed in pain.

"Fi, you can't go on like this. I'm taking you to the doctor."

"No, Michael. I'll be fine."

"No, you won't!" He caressed her face, trying to smooth the pain wrinkling her forehead. He spoke softly to her. "This could be something serious. I couldn't stand to lose you, Fi. I...I love you."

"Michael," she sighed. "What good am I to you? I can't see, so it's not like we can work together. Besides, without Sam, it wouldn't be the same anyway." She pulled out of his arms and lay back on the bed. "I've been thinking, maybe I should go home."

"Back to Ireland? You can't! There are people who want you dead!"

"Perhaps, 'tis better than living in darkness with a man who should be out doing his job, rather than sitting home to babysit me every day."

"Fi," Michael's voice cracked as he forced out her name. Then he took her in his arms again and kissed her. When he closed his eyes and touched her all over, he could only get a small taste of what it was like for her to live without sight. If there was a way, he would do anything to help her get it back. If there was a way to find their friend, he would do it. But so far, he'd been unsuccessful on both fronts.


Fiona lay perfectly still as the MRI machine slowly scanned her head and left photographic slices of it on a large sheet of film. Her head still pounded, and after two days of being stubborn and finally breaking down into tears, Michael refused to let her drag her heels anymore. He brought her in to the hospital.

"Dr. Kirby will look at these and be with you soon. You can both wait in here," a nurse said and directed them to a small exam room.

So Fiona and Michael waited silently, each of them thinking, afraid to speak their thoughts aloud and make them real. Michael sat beside her and took her hand in his, holding on tightly. She squeezed it, letting him know that she appreciated his support. If only she had been able to show Sam the same courtesy. Maybe he wouldn't have run off and left them. But she couldn't blame him. Michael threw him out and divorced himself from Sam and their decades long friendship. Who would want to come back after that? If she got her sight back, she would search for him. With or without Michael. But at this point, she was pretty certain that Michael would be running out the door ahead of her if she even suggested the idea.

"Ms. Glenanne, I'm Dr. Kirby. I'm a neurologist." He shook her hand and Michael's before sitting on a stool and rolling it up to where she sat on an exam table. "Is your head still hurting? What's the pain on a scale of one to ten?"

"Twelve. And nothing seems to help!"

"I've got good news, Ms. Glenanne. There's a reason why you're experiencing these headaches. You're not in danger or dying." He paused. "It's like how if you lay on your arm funny and it goes to sleep. You've pinched off a nerve. Then, when the pressure on it is relieved, eventually you get those annoying pins and needles. Your brain swelling went down a long time ago, but the optic nerves were pinched. Sometimes they never recover and the patient remains blind for life, but other times..."

"Are you saying I'll be able to see again?" Fiona's unseeing eyes widened in wonder.

"From what I saw on the MRI, the nerves are recovering. It might be as little as a few days or as much as a few months, but yes, I believe that you could get your sight back. It may not be what it was, but at least you'll be able to see."

"I guess sniper shooting might be out of the question," Fiona quipped with a smile.

Dr. Kirby laughed, thinking she was joking. Little did he realize that she was dead serious. "We'll just have to take this one step at a time and see what develops."

"Yes, we shall see, won't we." Fiona's smile turned into a grin as she emphasized the word.

Dr. Kirby smiled. "Until then, I'll give you something a little stronger for the pain, but there's really nothing else I can do."

Michael took the prescription the doctor tore off the pad. "Thanks, Doc. Thanks for giving us some real hope."

"You're welcome. Good luck, you two."


"Commander Axe, I thought I'd never see your sorry butt again."

It was the first time in weeks that Sam had been cold sober, because it wouldn't do to go crawling back to the admiral, begging forgiveness for sleeping with the man's wife, and then hoping beyond all hope that there was some way he could get back in. Even if it was as a civilian consultant. He had nothing else. He'd already tried losing himself in a bottle, and it didn't work.

"Sir, I just wanted to apologize for my indiscretions with your wife. I offer up no excuse other than stupidity."

"Fine, whatever." Admiral Maitland glared at Sam. Despite the casual attire, the man stood at attention as if no time had passed, and he shaved and even got a military haircut for the occasion. "Why did you come here? I can't imagine it was just to apologize. You're trying to suck up for something, aren't you."

"Well, Sir, I was hoping I could get a second chance."

"You've been discharged. You're through, Axe."

"I understand, Sir, that my military career is over. However, I would be willing to work in a civilian intelligence gathering capacity. Wherever you want me to go, Sir, I will be willing to go."

"You're desperate, huh? Sorry, I don't work with people I can't trust." He waved his hand. "You're dismissed, Commander."

"Sir. Yes, Sir!" Sam saluted, waited for the Admiral's response, and turned on his heel. Only when the office door closed on him did his shoulders slump. That was too hard, and he got shot down for all his efforts. The guy wouldn't even listen! Kind of reminded him of someone else he knew not so long ago. Man, I need a beer!

Sam restrained himself from getting drunk. Besides, he needed the cash to try his next plan. It involved going back to Miami, but only briefly. He called the number as he waited for his flight back to the city of sun and fun. "Hey, Virgil."

"Sam! How ya doin', pal?"

"Not so good." He proceeded to tell Virgil about the past several months, how Fi had lost her sight, and because of his own short sightedness, he lost his friends. Ever since then, he'd been wandering from place to place, picking up an odd job here and there, trying to survive.

"Well, you still got me, Sammy. How about I come and get you? You still have your passport, right?"

"Yeah, always, Virg."

"Perfect! I'll come back to the States, pick you up, and maybe we can swing by and take Michael's sweet mama along..."

"No no no! That's the last thing you want to do, unless you enjoy getting your butt kicked by Michael Westen. No, Maddie is not part of the plan."

"Oh." Virgil was disappointed. "But hey, maybe I can stop by and see her. You think that'd be okay?"

"Maybe. Just promise me, if you see Mike, you don't tell him where I am! I'll wait at the boat until you get back and then we'll high tail it to the Bahamas."

"Okay, Sammy. When does your flight get in?"


Yes, Michael needed luck if he was going to find Sam. As the months passed, chances of finding him narrowed until they were slim at best. Michael wanted to find him so badly. At the very least, he knew that their friend would want to know that Fi had good news. And he also hoped that maybe he could convince Sam to come back. His car was in Maddie's garage, along with everything he left behind, and now and then Michael would take it for a drive just to keep it running.

He was parking it in the garage when Maddie entered with Virgil, and both grinned from ear to ear. "Michael, look who's here!"

"Virgil! I thought you went back to the Bahamas." He'd hoped that Virgil went back to the Bahamas, anyway.

"Oh yeah, I've got myself a nice little charter fishing business there. It keeps me in hawaiian shirts and mojitos, that's for sure." He chuckled. "I just came back to see your mama for a day, and pick up a passenger." He winked. "He's somebody you know."

Maddie's grin widened. "At first Virgil didn't want to tell me, but I dragged it out of him."

Michael's eyebrow rose. He really didn't want to know how she did it.

"It's Sam, Michael!"

"Sam?" His eyes widened and his expression showed his surprise, as well as a little relief. "Where is he right now?"

"Probably at the boat. He was just coming in while I was heading over here to see Maddie. He said he would wait there until I came back, and..."

Virgil was talking to air, because Michael took off running. He slid over the Charger's hood, threw the door open, and got in. With squealing tires, he took off for the marina.


Sam threw his gear, which he kept in an old worn duffel bag, into the hold. He debated sticking around topside, then decided he should take cover below. Didn't want Mike to inadvertently see him. It was pretty pathetic to have to hide from his ex-friends, but that was his life. Maybe once he reached the islands he would be better off finding a new place to blend in and just live without getting close to anyone. It was too dangerous. It hurt too much. But he had something to take care of first, and he would finish the job and then completely disappear. The prospect of being alone didn't really appeal to him, but it was his only option.

Little did he know it was too late to hide. From across the parking lot, an ex-spy sat in a classic black car with binoculars trained on him. All he had to do was get out and walk slowly toward Sam in order to sneak up on him, because if his old friend knew he was being watched, he would be gone like a shot.

Michael's phone rang. He looked down at the screen and saw it was Fiona. "Yeah, Fi."

"Michael, I entered your number in my phone. I didn't use the shortcut you gave me."

"Thats' great, Fi. You're learning your phone by touch."

"No, Michael. I...I saw the numbers." She was weeping, but they were tears of joy. Her words came out raspy through the tears. "I can see again."

"I'm on my way home, Fi."

"What about Sam? Maddie called and said Virgil has seen Sam and he was giving him a ride to the Bahamas."

"Yes. I've seen him, Fi. He's on Virgil's boat."

"How does he look?"

Michael smiled. "Why don't you find out for yourself? I'll get him and bring him back to the loft with me."

"Be careful. He may not go willingly."

"I know." Michael smirked. "I'll deck him again if I have to."

Michael hung up the phone and figured out a roundabout way to get to the boat without alerting Sam. When he was almost in the stern, he noted that Sam must have gone down into the hold. He climbed aboard and took a step down. Suddenly, a hand reached for his wrist, grasped onto it tightly, and threw him down the steps. Michael curled up into a ball at the bottom and found Sam's Beretta staring him in the face.

"What are you doing here, Westen?"

What, no Mike or Mikey? He tried on a smile. "Sam, it's good to see you too." He stood up warily, shocked and pained by the cold steely expression on Sam's face. The gun stayed trained on him, which was more disappointing than anything.

"I doubt you came here to chat."

"I was hoping to bring you back to the loft with me."

"You can keep my stuff. I don't need it anymore."

Michael noted that Sam must have lost at least forty pounds. He hadn't been this lean since their military days. Six months had gone by, and Sam had changed not just his physique. There was a hardness to him that he didn't recognize, and he wondered if it was their fault. Michael missed him more than he could ever put into words. But he needed to talk fast, because if the look in his friend's eyes was any indication, he was ready to either turn Michael into fish food or bolt.

"Sam, I'm sorry. I should never have doubted that you had my best interests at heart. And Fi's." He braved a smile. "You took really good care of Fi while I was gone. She told me everything you did. We'll always be grateful for that."

"Yeah, you have a funny way of showing it, Westen. You kicked me out of your life. So why all of a sudden do you want me to come crawling back?"

"I don't want you to crawl back. If anybody should be doing any crawling, it's me. I was wrong."

"Water under the bridge."

"That's right. And if you can forgive and forget, so can I." He paused. "Besides, Fi wants to see you."

"She wants to see me, huh?"

"Yes." His smile turned into a grin. "Sam, she can see again. She just called me a little while before I came here, and I was so excited I wanted to run right home to her, but she asked me to bring you along."

Something in Sam's expression softened. "That's great, M...Westen. Why don't you just run off to Fiona then?"

"Not without you."

"Sorry, Westen. I can't." He suddenly turned away, grabbed his duffel, and tore up the stairs as he tucked his weapon away to conceal it.

"Sam! No!" He ran up after him, but Sam used the duffel bag as a soft battering ram that hit Michael and sent him bumping back down into the hold. By the time he got topside, Sam was nowhere to be seen.