The Things They Carried

Summary: The agents of Graceland are masters of keeping secrets. But sometimes, secrets have a way of coming back to haunt you.

Disclaimer: I own nothing; Graceland belongs to Jeff Eastin and USA.

A/n: And another new chapter! Hope you all enjoy!

"He's not eating." Briggs looked up at the sound of Paige's voice, more than a little annoyed that she'd come into his room without knocking first.

"What are you talking about?"

"The breakfast Charlie made for him? I found almost all of it in the trash this morning. And he barely ate the soup Abbey brought him for lunch before he sent her home and went back to bed."

"He's sick, Paige… I think we can cut him some slack right now."

"He was eating fine yesterday." Briggs sighed, putting down the case file he'd been looking over.

"He's going to have good and bad days, Paige. We just have to keep an eye on him… but I don't think we have anything to worry about. The kid's been through hell the past week. It's going to take some time for him to be back to normal."

"This isn't some minor illness we're talking about, Briggs. He's got an eating disorder…" Paige began.

"Keep your voice down."

"Why? So he can keep lying to everyone here?"

"Because he's down the hall trying to sleep and the last thing he needs is to hear you yelling about the fact that he isn't eating well," Briggs replied, standing up and closing his bedroom door. "Johnny and Charlie are gonna be home any minute, and they don't need to know until Mike is ready to tell them."

"Why are we helping him lie, Paul? How is this good for him?"

"He needs to be able to trust us, Paige. Mike and I have to work together, and we have to be able to trust each other…"

"You're more worried about your damn case than about Mike's health…"

"Mike is a grown-up, Paige. He can take care of himself… and he's promised to let us know if there's a problem. If I didn't think he could handle it, he wouldn't still be here."

"He shouldn't still be here, Paul, and you know it. Not while he's sick…" Paige replied. "We should have told Gerry what was going on as soon as Mike admitted there was a problem."

"Mike is fine." Briggs crossed his arms, leaning back in his chair. "We have no reason to believe Mike is in trouble right now… one day of not eating much isn't a big deal in the overall scheme of things…"

"This isn't just one day, though… he didn't end up eating anything on sauce night, either…"

"That was weeks ago, Paige…"

"But we can't just ignore it…"

"He'd just watched Eddie blow his brains out… you wouldn't want to eat after seeing that, either."

"Are you seriously sitting here talking about me?" Briggs looked up at the sound of Mike's voice coming from the doorway. Briggs stood up, motioning for Mike to come into the room.

"Paige is concerned about how much you've eaten today." Briggs watched as Mike sat down on the side of the bed, looking up at Paige.

"Why?"

"You haven't finished a single meal today… I found almost all of the breakfast Charlie made you in the trash can earlier, and I know you didn't eat much of the soup Abbey brought over…" Paige began. Briggs watched as Mike nodded slowly.

"I know. I'm just having a really bad day…" Mike replied.

"You have to eat, Mike…"

"I'm pretty sure he knows, Paige. Why don't you just leave him alone?" Briggs watched as Paige threw up her hands in frustration, rolling her eyes and walking out of the room. Briggs sighed, sitting down on the bed a few feet away from the younger man. "You said you're having a bad day… what's going on?"

"I'm just feeling really shitty today… the coughing makes my head hurt, and the pain pills aren't really helping," Mike replied. "I'll be okay. But I really don't feel like eating a whole lot right now… my head is still killing me." Briggs reached out and put a hand on Mike's shoulder, squeezing it gently.

"Go lay back down, okay? I'll bring you something to eat later." Briggs watched as Mike nodded, standing back up and heading out of the room.

"I'm really not relapsing, Briggs… I'm not doing this on purpose."

"I know. I trust you."

Mike winced as his bedroom door opened, letting in the light from the hallway. It made his headache even worse, and he really just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. "Levi? You okay?"

"Go away… please…" Mike began.

"It's dinner time… you feeling any better?" Briggs asked.

"Not really. But I need to eat." Mike sat up slowly, wincing as he started coughing again.

"You're taking cough syrup after dinner…"

"Coughing is supposed to help clear my lungs."

"If your lungs aren't clear by now, kid, there's something seriously wrong. You need to sleep so that head injury can heal, and that isn't going to happen until you stop coughing constantly." Mike sighed as Briggs set the plate down on the bed next to him, turning on the lamp beside the bed. "Who's taking you to the doctor tomorrow?"

"Johnny said he would…" Mike began, glancing down at the plate of pasta sitting next to him.

"What about the Bureau shrink?"

"I called yesterday and got out of it for a while… kind of hard to make me come in when I can't drive and everyone else in the house is working cases they can't step away from right now…" Mike replied.

"I'm sure the fact that you're pretty sick doesn't hurt your case, either…" Mike nodded slowly, picking up the plate and starting to eat. "Do you need anything?"

"I know you're just trying to make up an excuse to watch me eat," Mike replied, taking a bite of the pasta. "It's okay… I get it."

"I do trust you… but Paige isn't letting this go, and…"

"I get why she's nervous. It's annoying, but I do understand." Mike looked down at the plate, picking at the pasta for a moment. "Do you think she's right? That you should have called Gerry, gotten me out of here?"

"No. I don't. You're a good agent, and I think you deserve a chance to prove yourself," Briggs replied. "But I'm trusting you to come to me if you need help with this… I can't keep an eye on you constantly." Mike nodded, taking another bite of the pasta.

"I'm not going to fuck this up, Briggs."

"I don't think you will." Mike ate a bit more, watching as the senior agent sat down at the foot of his bed. "I know this is important to you. And I know that you understand what's at stake… not just for you, but for all of us." Mike nodded.

"I get it." Mike ate another bite of his pasta, before putting the fork down on the plate and pushing it away. He'd only eaten half of the over-sized serving, but it was making him feel sick. "I'm sorry… God, it's like having a fucking migraine that doesn't go away…"

"Do you need anything?"

"No… I'm just going to take my meds and go back to sleep…" Mike replied, slowly shaking his head.

"And some cough syrup."

"Briggs…"

"I'm not taking no for an answer on this one, kid. You need to get some real sleep tonight." Mike sighed, closing his eyes. "Seriously… I know it's fucking disgusting, but you haven't stopped coughing and it's time."

"I just want to go to sleep…" Mike watched as Briggs took the plate, sighing.

"I'm going to get the cough syrup. Do you need some more water?" Mike nodded, grabbing the glass on his bedside table and taking the pills while Briggs was out of the room. He closed his eyes as he waited, wincing as the coughing started again, making the pain in his head worse. "Okay… I think it's supposed to be grape flavored which means this is probably going to taste like shit."

"Is there any flavor of cough syrup that doesn't taste like shit?" Mike asked, opening his eyes to watch as Briggs poured out a dose of the thick, purple liquid, handing the little cup over to him. Mike swallowed the disgusting liquid quickly, chasing it with several large gulps of water until he started coughing again. "God, that's bad…"

"But you'll feel better once you've gotten an uninterrupted night's sleep." Mike watched as the man started cleaning up, getting ready to leave the room.

"Briggs…"

"Yeah?"

"I know it doesn't look good… but it isn't what it looks like…"

"I know, kid."