Chapter Seven: Back to Normal (with a Hint of Mint and a Twist of Lemon)
"C'mon Michael, Just Breathe!"
Michael shot a sharp glance to Fiona from between his knees as he heaved, unable to breathe, screamed what the hell do you think I'm doing?
Michael was currently sitting on the kerb of another colourful part of Miami, next to Fiona's car, struggling to swallow oxygen. He was cradling his ribs and growing paler by the second. Sam finally arrived from his vantage point to the couple, gently depositing his sniper rifle onto the spoiler of the hatch.
"What's going on?" Concern failed to remain hidden in his voice as he crouched next to Michael. The duo glared at the new arrival. Fiona was going to answer but Michael wheezing got sharper and he clumsily grabbed at Fiona's arm. His vision was starting to grey out and he, at first, couldn't hear Fiona and Sam calling to him. Couldn't hear Fiona coach his breathing.
"Inhale…. Think about your breathing… and push out". She glanced up at Sam and motioned her head towards the front of the car. The Ex-SEAL took the hint and began rummaging. Had Michael been in a better state of mind he would have noticed that in another Life Fiona could have been a yoga instructor.
But no – he had to breathe first – "Fi-" Michael choked out. He was losing focus and was struggling to make eye contact. All he could do was clutch Fiona as he tried to expand his lungs. "Fi!"
"Got it!" Sam cried as he held the purple contraption along with the clear double ended cone and plugged them together. Fiona snatched the object and manipulated Michael's grip so she was holding the contraption for him and rubbing his back. Supporting the item, Sam pressed the inhaler and spacer into Michael's lips and squirted once, waiting for the medicine to dissipate before squirting again.
Michael's doctor had given the inhaler to him, just as a precaution, for use before he went to bed, but at the moment it seemed to do its job and steadied the younger man's breathing. Michael collapsed back into Fiona, sweating heavily, pale but breathing a lot steadier.
The Irish woman used the head scarf to dry his face and neck while Sam fetched Michael's crutches from the small car. Despite attempting to avoid it, Michael was still up to his third cast in double as many weeks. But for now the focus was getting Michael home.
~!~
The trio drove to Madeline's house in silence, Michael resting his leg on the seat and head against the window in the back, eyes closed as colour crept its way back into his features. Sam was texting Elsa, letting her know that everything was ok.
Fiona… Fiona was blaming herself for Michael's current state.
The couple had only been talking again for a little over two months, but the news of their split had run through the gun community, making a lot of deals hard for Fiona.
The current deal proved to be the same.
While she, herself, had a reputation that preceded her – specifically for spontaneous violence – the presence of her bomb happy boyfriend? Lover? Partner? Made things got a lot more smoothly. The buyer had sent his heavies (who were fond of neither Fiona nor Michael) whom had in their head that after money exchanged hands that Michael in his current state would be an easy target.
Michael had fought well, however, and managed to disarm the larger one with a swift elbow to the temple while the smaller one snuck an upper cut to the ribs (conveniently – the injured ribs) before a leg kick to Michael's injured knee. Fiona had tazed the smaller heavy while Sam skittled the others with well-placed high calibre round. Michael ended up on all fours, unable to breathe.
Because of Fiona.
~!~
"What on Earth happened?" Madeline cried as Fiona and Sam helped Michael hop out of the car and into his mother's house.
"I'm fine, mom, really," Michael winced as Sam accidentally bumped him. Madeline dashed to the lounge and cleared off one of the sofas, which Michael sank gratefully into some moments later. Charlie, now nearly two, toddled out and ran to his favourite uncle, Michael holding back a grunt as the youth thumped his chest.
Madeline made eyes with Fiona and Sam and motioned towards the kitchen.
"What on Earth happened to my son!?"
"Well, see here, Maddy…" Sam began. Fiona tuned out as she watched Michael and Charlie get comfortable, the former hiding winces as he adjusted his nephew.
Sam and his Uncle Sam friends had managed to get Michael out of his CIA deal, citing it was their fault the whole situation had gone pear shaped. They agreed to keep Michael on a retainer payment but they weren't allowed to come anywhere near him. Relieved sighs all round.
"… and we brought him here coz I'm not heaving his heavy butt upstairs" Sam finished.
By this time, both uncle and Nephew had fallen asleep and an easy quiet settled over the house. Madeline dug around for paracetamol and ibuprofen for her son while Fiona filled a glass with water for Michael. She tried to wake Charlie without waking Michael but Michael woke up first and gently shook his head. He manoeuvred to take the pills and sip the water before readjusting himself and Charlie and slipping into an easy slumber. Unable to resist, Fiona shifted a piece of hair from Michael's forehead and just stayed where she was, watching the two Westens'.
~!~
The second time Fiona attempted to wake Charlie was when Madeline put him to bed in Michael's old room, thankfully, during which Michael stayed asleep.
Hours later, after Sam had gone home and Madeline to bed herself, Fiona dragged the mattress from the spare room to the lounge and just lay there watching Michael fight an unreal bad guy in his sleep. He bolted upright when she couldn't stand seeing him fight any more and woke him up. His complexion had returned to normal and pain no longer lingered in his eyes. The couple smiled quietly at each other as Fiona held his hand and he drifted back to sleep.
As she stretched out on the mattress she heard…
"Marry me Fi" whispered softly, bright blue eyes, boring into hers.
END
