Chapter 12

Sam opened the door to what had now become Michael's room and entered quietly, not sure if he might finally be sleeping. Instead he found him wide awake, frowning deeply and staring at the ceiling. A look of utter despondence on his face.

"You talk to Virgil?" he asked softly without looking at Sam.

"Yeah, Mikey, I did."

There was a long pause, then finally, almost in a whisper, he said simply, "I'm so sorry, Sam," and continued to look at the ceiling, the tenuous grip he held on his emotions threadbare. He was at the end of himself. He could fight no more. Lie no more!

"You should have told me, Mikey," Sam said quietly.

"I know," Michael answered, the honesty catching even himself off guard. "But at the time..." Michael stopped himself. It was just another excuse. "Sam." He tried to begin again but simply didn't know what to say. He finally added, "…I thought I was protecting you."

"You were wrong to not tell me, Mike."

"I know."

"You should have trusted me… believed in me, Mikey," Sam continued. "I can take care of myself. And I'm smart enough to know when I need help… to ask for it. That's something you need to learn."

"Virgil only knows part of the story, Sam," Michael sighed, finally looking at him. "You only know part of the story."

"Doesn't matter," Sam said quickly, cutting him off, his voice conveying his frustration. "It doesn't matter what the story is, Mikey," he said again, a little more gently. "You betrayed my trust."

"And mine," Fiona said, entering the room.

Their words cut into Michael's very soul. He looked back up at the ceiling, his face clouding. He was at the very brink of an ever deepening sea of raw emotion. Emotion he had no idea how to deal with. "I don't know how to fix this," he said finally. "I don't know what to do to make it better," and his voice caught in his throat. "I don't…" he stammered. "I never wanted to hurt you. Either of you. I would die for you," he said, finally looking over at them again.

"Well, you certainly proved that last part to be true," Fiona said. "Look at you, Michael. You're a mess."

"Yeah, Mikey. Here's an idea. How 'bout next time you tell us what's going on, and we let the bad guys die for us instead," Sam dead panned.

"So what now," Michael asked, looking over at them, exhaustion and strain showing clearly on his face.

"I don't know, Mikey. We still need to talk …"

"Yes, we do," Fiona interrupted.

"But right now," Sam said, clearing his throat and shooting Fiona a look, "we need to take care of this mess. And we can't take care of it unless we know what is going on. So, and I know you're tired, Buddy," Sam said, looking at Michael, "but… once more with feeling: What's going on?"

Michael sighed and shifted uncomfortably on his bed. Lines of pain, both physical and mental, shown clearly on his face. "It turns out Larry knew I was playing him from the beginning," he said. "It was all a set up. I realize that now. He's insane, Sam."

"Oh, Michael," Fiona sighed rolling her eyes. "Are you just now figuring that out?"

"He thinks you're the reason he lost me as his partner, Sam," Michael continued. "The reason he can't get me back. He plans to take care of that problem."

"So let me get this straight," Sam said. "Larry wants you to go Dark Side but thinks in order for you to do that, he needs to get rid of me."

"Pretty much, yeah," Michael said, his eyes beginning to lose focus.

"Why not just kill me outright?"

"Not his style," Michael said, rubbing his eyes.

"Not his STYLE? The man kills three people before breakfast on any given day."

"He wants to destroy you, first," Michael explained, "Then he'll kill you," he said, and he noticed his voice now somehow seemed far away. "He hates you, Sam." It was getting harder for him to get the words out. "Blames you. …knows what a trial would do to you," Michael coughed painfully, hugging his chest.

"Okay, that's enough," Sam said gently. "We'll take it from here, Mikey. You get some rest."

"I'm sorry," he said once again, fighting the exhaustion.

"I know, buddy," Sam said. "We'll talk about it later. I know you were trying to help me. Just get some rest. We'll talk more later. I'll see you in the morning." Then looking over at Fiona, "I'm going to head on up to the house and get cleaned up a bit. You good?"

"I'm fine," Fiona answered. "I'll be here." She then walked over to Michael's side and stroked his forehead with her fingertips. "Rest now," she said gently. "Everything will be alright."

"Fi," he began, but she put her fingers to his lips.

"Shhh… It's okay. I know, remember?" And she grasped his hand and smiled. "We are so not good at this," she said. "Now sleep. You'll feel better in the morning."

He closed his eyes but the sadness remained on his face.

Fi began to pull her hand from his but he held on. "Stay with me until I fall asleep," he whispered plaintively, the exhaustion already pulling him under.

Fiona smiled. "Michael, I'm not going anywhere," she said as he drifted off. Then smiled as she saw his face relax and his breathing finally calm, evening out. "Besides," she added, thinking he was asleep, "I want to be here when you're all better so I can kick your butt." She was surprised when she noticed the faintest hint of a smile form on Michael's lips. Smiling broadly, unable to resist, Fiona leaned over and tenderly kissed those lips. Then pulling the chair closer to the bed and without letting go of his hand, she settled in for the night.

Morning dawned and Michael had, for the most part, slept through the night. Fi still sat in the chair beside his bed, dozing. A light tapping at the door brought her quickly awake, and Fiona looked up to see Madeline peeking in. "Am I interrupting anything?" she asked quietly.

"No, Madeline, of course not," Fiona whispered back, yawning and rising from the chair. "He's still sleeping. I think he had a pretty restful night."

"I wish you could say the same for yourself, dear," Madeline smiled, cupping Fiona's face in her hand. "You need some rest, dear."

"I'm fine," Fiona protested.

"No, you're not," Madeline countered. "And you'll be no good to Michael exhausted like this. Go get some sleep. I'll wait with him."

Fiona nodded, knowing Madeline was right. "Okay. But if he wakes up…"

"If he wakes up," Madeline said, "I'll tell him you were here all night and needed some sleep. Michael will understand."

Fiona again knew Madeline was right. At this point she was so tired she could barely think straight. She needed rest. And if Larry was involved, and it certainly looked like he was, there were going to be dangerous times ahead. She'd need to have all her strength and wits about her when the time came. Reluctantly Fiona gave in. Looking back over her shoulder one last time, she could see Michael was clearly still sleeping. Satisfied, she slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

As soon as the door clicked shut, Madeline walked over to her son, looked down at him and sighed. "Okay, Michael. I've been your mother too long not to know when you're faking. You want to tell me why you're pretending to still be asleep?"

Michael opened his eyes to look at his mother. "I was afraid if she knew I was awake she would stay. I wanted her to get some rest," he explained, and Madeline knew he was telling the truth.

"That was a good idea," she agreed. "You're right. I don't think she'd have left if she knew you were awake." And then she added, "You're a good friend, Michael."

Michael's face clouded immediately at the words.

Shocked, Madeline tsked at her son, leaning down and hugging his neck. "Shhhh.." she soothed. "It's okay, Michael."

"I messed up, Ma," he said, into her neck, his voice cracking. "I really messed up."

"Yes, you did, Michael," Madeline agreed, straightening. "But so does everybody else in the world. Everyone falls sometime, Michael. You just have to find it within yourself to get back up. You're strong Michael; much stronger than you think. You just have to find that strength. Let the past be the past. I know the boy I raised. The good man you have become. Don't let your demons conquer you, Michael. Fight. Fight for Sam. Fight for Fiona. But most of all, Michael, fight for you."