Chapter forty nine.

.

The bedroom.

.

Michael's pov,

He had asked nicely. "Let her go." He remembered saying the words, Was he not clear? Did the gun pointing straight at the Larry's head not make a big enough statement?

Obviously not. Larry had just smirked at him, speaking in that patronising tone he hated. "Once we're done here, I just don't want her interfering. Confusing you."

He hadn't realized he was confused. It all looked pretty clear to him. Larry's hands framing Fiona's face, ready to snap her neck. Michael was positive he wasn't confused about Larry's intentions. There was a thin line of blood trickling down her cheek from under her hair line. She was quiet in his hands, her eyes dazed unfocussed. No nothing confusing about that.

He had even given Larry a second chance. But his temper was rising, pressure building in need of a release. "I'm not confused, let her go. I'm not telling you again." His grip was becoming more tenuous, the only thing holding him back, Fiona's head in Larry's hands. If only his old mentor knew how hard he was having to fight to keep even a margin of control.

"These people are your enemy, it was his father that got you into this mess." Larry took his hand away from the top of Fiona's head to gesture at the two captives on the bed. Michael couldn't believe Larry would be so sloppy, did he really think he could threaten Fiona and then offer himself as a target?

"I'm just making sure your little girlfriend here doesn't try and stop you from doing what's right. You know my saying kid, some people live and some people die, I just want you to make the right choice."

Choice. When, in the last couple of months, no years had anything been his choice? He had been used, betrayed, lied to and then thrown out in the cold. Larry always said some people live and some people die well this time that was something he was going to decide. It was going to be his choice.

It was almost a physical thing when he felt his self control snap. The feeling of pressure which had been filling every part of his body with tension was suddenly released.

"You're right about one thing Larry." Michael spoke his tone flat and emotionless. "Today I decide who lives or dies." He smirked. As soon as he did, he knew he had made a mistake, as that first bullet left his gun Larry was already moving.

"MIKE NO!" Sam's shout had surprised him but it didn't stop his actions. He could stop even if he wanted to.

.

Larry's pov.

Larry had been so confident, that he knew Michael better than anybody else did. He knew how the kid hated failure, and despised traitors. He had seen first hand how Michael dealt with enemies or those that betrayed them. He had spent a week sat in a cell coming up with the perfect plan, to show Michael his true self. He just needed something to get so far under his skin that he would shed the bleeding heart, boy scout attitude he had developed over the last few years.

As soon as Larry saw that cruel twist of his lips. He knew he had underestimated exactly how far he had pushed the younger man. But he adapted quickly, spinning Fiona into Michael's firing line forcing the other to change his aim and miss with his first couple of shots.

Gun in hand, Larry's first thought was to kill the Dawsons on his way out through Michael. But Sam Axe's shout had warned him, that way was blocked. Michael's third shot hit him high on the arm, sending his gun flying from his hand. The fourth and fifth whistled passed his head and hit the window shattering the glass. It would be a long drop, but it was very clear Michael intended to kill him so holding his arm he headed for the opening, two more shots hit him in the back propelling him forward far faster than he could move naturally. The bullets embedded in his hidden bullet proof vest, then another shot connected this one catching him in the back of his leg as he half fell, half jumped through the window.

He landed hard, with the air knocked out of his body. He wasn't a young man, and he had been hit by two bullets and the effects of another two had probably broken a rib or two and covered his back in bruises. He didn't hang around, his highly tuned survival instincts forcing him onwards. He could collapse and nurse his wounds once he was safe.

.

The aftermath.

Even as he shouted, Sam knew he was too late to stop Michael opening fire. He had faith that regardless of his state of mind Michael would not hurt Fiona. But apart from Larry he had no idea who else was in the room.

"Westen cease fire!" Smith yelled a fraction after Sam's own shout. The agent was preparing to shoot when Sam slapped the gun down protecting his friend.

By the time Smith had realigned his gun the shooting was over. They watched as Michael seemed to sway, his arm dropping to his side. Even as Smith and Sam started forward, Michael had rushed in to the room.

They reached the door to find Michael sitting on the floor holding Fiona's limp body in his arms, his gun was beside him already forgotten. Holding Fiona tightly against his chest, he rocked back and forth. Placing gentle kisses on the top of her head.

"I'm sorry, Fi. Please I'm so sorry." He sounded heartbroken.

Sam dropped beside him. "Mike." He spoke softly, his heart in his throat praying that he was wrong. "Mikey, let me see her." He managed to get a couple of fingers to Fiona's throat. A rush of relief surged through his body, when he felt a strong steady pulse.

"Mike she's alive, let me have a look at her. Did she get hit." There was blood on her face and more splattered over her clothing. Michael looked at him, his expression confused as if he was having trouble understanding the words. "Come on, let me have a look." He prised Fiona out of his arms enough to check her over.

Sam gently removed the tape from her mouth and then investigated the bump on her head, he continued to look for injuries expecting to find gun shot wounds but found nothing. Wiping a hand over his face he turned to look at Michael. His friend looked broken, just waiting to be told he had killed her.

"Mike she's got a bad bump on her head that's all. There are no wounds, you didn't hit her." He watched Michael's face, the younger man nodded his head slowly.

"She's ok?" He asked, still not sure he was hearing correctly.

"Yeah brother she's gonna be fine. Just sit with her till she comes round. Ok?" He got to his feet slowly giving Michael a pat on his back. Sam suddenly felt very old.

He stretched his back and noticed Smith must have picked up Michael's gun, as it was no longer on the carpet near where he was sat. The agent had also done a sweep of the room and released the couple who had been tied up on the bed.

Sam went to look out of the window, trying to see if Larry's body was lying out front of the house. In the darkness he couldn't tell. The man had definitely been hit there was plenty of blood to bare witness to that. There was also plenty of holes bearing witness to how many shots Michael had fired.

He was suddenly shaken from his thoughts by Michael's voice. "I need to talk to him." The aggression in his voice surprising every one. Sam immediately moved to his friend's side, placing a restraining hand on Michael's shoulder.

"Easy there Mike. How's Fi doing?" He tried to distract his friend, while throwing Smith a puzzled look.

Michael glanced down, Fiona was regaining consciousness. For a moment all his attention was back on her but then he noticed Smith had started the couple moving towards the door again.

"Stop, he's related to Management, I need to speak with him." Michael ordered.

"Who is Management?" Ross Dawson asked, his eyes wide and his arms wrapped tightly around his wife. Fear and confusion etched on both their faces.

"Don't pretend you don't know!" Michael snapped, Sam tightened his grip on his friend's shoulder. Michael manoeuvred Fiona slightly, and pulled out the photo from a pocket, handing it to Sam. "That's him with their kids." He accused.

"We don't have any children!" Dawson replied.

Michael was becoming more frustrated, he batted Sam's hand away and got to his feet. Leaving Fiona sat on the floor. "Liar!" He snapped, stepping forward.

Sam reached for him again, but Michael shrugged him off. "Mike, steady there." But Michael wasn't listening.

Dawson pushed his wife behind him, trying to protect her from this obvious madman. "Have a look. We don't have children and what that other man said about my father. It's all lies my dad died three years ago." He tried to explain.

Smith had heard enough, he put himself between the two men. "Enough!" He snapped. He could hear police sirens getting closer, the gunfire would have been heard throughout the neighbourhood. This was going to be hard enough to explain, without having to deal with Westen's volatile behaviour.

"He's lying, let me.." Michael pushed Smith backwards.

Smith's reflexes were as quick as Michael's, he grabbed Michael's thumb pressing down on a pressure point. He held on as the other tried to break the hold, only once Michael had stopped struggling did Smith release him. "Enough." He ordered again his tone sharp, a warning.

Sam was surprised when Michael backed up, giving way to the other man.

"Sam can you get the two of them out of here before the police turn up?" Smith asked, he had noticed Fiona was looking more alert now.

"Sure but..." Sam wasn't sure about leaving.

"No buts, Axe. This is a big enough mess as it is, I can clean it up a lot better on my own. Get them out of here."

"I'm not leaving until..." Michael may have backed down but he hadn't given up.

"You're leaving. If you're here when the police turn up I'm going to have them arrest you." He pulled his gun from under his arm, making his point.

"Er Mike." It was Sam speaking, Fiona was on her feet now at his side. "Why don't you help Fi downstairs and we'll sort all this out later."

For a moment it looked like Michael might continue to argue. But one look from Fiona and he moved to slip an arm round her waist and started to help her out of the room and down to the ground floor.

Smith and Sam followed behind "I'll be in touch later." Smith told Sam and then looked pointedly at Michael. "Keep him under control."

He had the keys to the property, so after switching off the alarms and the electric fence Smith followed them out to the gates. The police cars were approaching now, Smith had the gates open and his badge and credentials in his hand. As the trio moved away, he waved his hand at the cars. "Special Agent Smith." He identified himself and directed the cars onto the drive.

….

Michael climbed into the back seat of Sam's car and made room for Fiona to lay back against his chest his arms wrapped around her, his head rested gently on top of hers. The journey back to Fi's was taken in silence.

Once back inside the apartment, Michael made Fiona sit while he checked her head wound. There was a bump and a small cut that was more bloody than dangerous. After cleaning away the dried blood he decided she didn't even need stitches.

As soon as Michael would let her, Fiona announced she was taking a couple of pain killers and going to bed. She got Michael to collect some bedding for Sam and then climbed into bed, snuggled down under her goose down duvet.

"Don't be too long." She told him.

After placing a soft kiss on her forehead Michael took Sam his bedding.

"She seems better." Sam commented, taking the pillows and blankets.

"I thought I'd killed her." Michael mumbled, a sudden feeling of fatigue came over him and he sat down heavily, his eyes sliding shut.

"But you didn't, so stop worrying about it." Sam replied, placing the pillows at one end of the couch.

"What about Larry is he dead?" Michael's eyes were still shut.

"I don't know Mike, his body wasn't outside." Sam admitted.

"I hit him." Michael's eyes opened. "I hit him a lot."

"I know, there was plenty of blood to prove it." Sam replied. "But that's Larry for you. It's not easy to kill the Lord of the undead. Maybe you should try silver bullets next time. Besides plenty of your shots missed in there brother. I think you could do with some time at the range."

"I am right about Dawson though." Michael changed the topic.

Sam let his head droop, once Michael got something like this in to his head it was almost impossible to get him to drop it.

"Let's talk about this after a sleep Mike. It's been a long day." Maybe after a nights rest, he could be reasoned with.

Sam was already kicking off his shoes, and dropping his gun on the floor below where he planned to lay his head.

"Ok. Tomorrow." Michael got slowly to his feet, rubbing his eyes as he walked towards the bedroom. "Night Sam."

Michael entered the bedroom as quietly as he could. Getting undressed, and slipping on pyjama bottoms he climbed in next to Fiona carefully, trying not to disturb her. He lay still, his eyes drifting shut as Fiona let out a soft sigh and shifted, until her head rested over his heart and an arm and leg was flung carelessly over his body. He fell asleep, with his hand stroking her back.

….

Michael woke up to find he was alone, he reached over and squinted at the clock. They had let him sleep in, it was a quarter to ten. With an annoyed grunt he sat up on the edge of the bed and rubbed his hands through his hair. Slowly getting to his feet he headed for the en suite bathroom.

After a shower and dressing in new clothes he made his way over to the bedroom door, stopping when he heard voices in the other room. Not just Fiona and Sam's, but Agent Smith's as well. He paused, but he couldn't hear them clearly enough eavesdrop through the door.

Walking out into the lounge he found them sat outside, around the table. They all turned to stare at him, he was shocked by Sam's expression he looked sad and shocked. Fiona was resting a comforting hand on his arm.

"Hey guys." Michael spoke warily, wondering what was going on. Smith looked to have been up all night if his unshaven appearance was anything to go on.

There was an uncomfortable silence for a moment. Michael stared at the trio. What had they been talking about? Fiona broke the silence, getting to her feet she tapped Sam's arm hinting he should follow. "Hi." She smiled across at Michael. "I'll get you a drink and some breakfast. You two need to talk." As she walked passed she gave him a peck on his cheek.

He joined Smith out on the balcony, choosing to lean against the wall rather than sitting down. "So what did you say to them? Sam looked positively sick."

Smith looked worn out, he returned Michael's stare with red rimmed eyes. "Director Jack Faye committed suicide last night. He shot himself in the head." He could see he had shocked Michael. "He had left a note, admitting to assisting Larry Sizemores release from custody and manipulating case evidence on his behalf."

"Why?" Michael asked in a soft voice.

"Did you know he had a daughter?" Michael shook his head. "His daughter was murdered in New York a couple of days before 9/11, he got impatient about the investigation and somehow ended up getting Sizemore to find and kill the perpetrator." He could see Michael didn't need to hear any more. Faye had left himself open to blackmail and paid the price.

Smith took a deep breath, before continuing. "Anyway, because of this, they're reviewing everything Faye has done recently. Which means..."

Michael's head fell forward, guessing what was coming. "Are you here to arrest me?" He shot Smith a look.

"No, no but for now at least you're out. You keep your bank accounts, and as long as you stay where they can see you you're pretty much free to do what you like. They're even allowing you to travel outside of Miami as long as you let them know where you're going." Smith thought it sounded like a good deal.

"So I'm being watched?" Michael scowled.

"Face it Westen you'll always be watched. You know too much to be left alone."

They paused for a moment while Fiona came out and put a pot of coffee down on the table along with a couple of cups. She walked over to Michael and handed him a spoon and a yoghurt. Exchanging a chaste kiss she walked back into the apartment, leaving them to their talk.

"So what about you?" Michael asked, opening the yoghurt pot.

"They want me to take some leave. Which." He smiled. "Isn't that bad, my wife will be pleased and I'll get to spend more time with my kid."

Michael was tucking into his yoghurt, he spoke casually. "Talking about kids, you find anything out about this Dawson family?"

Smith sighed and then stretched. "Forget them. It was a set up by your friend Sizemore. Dawson was telling the truth, they have no kids and his father died three years ago."

"But there has to be something." He finished the yoghurt, and lent forward to put the empty pot on the table.

"No." Smith spoke firmly, getting to his feet he got ready to leave. "It was a set up. Leave them alone, they've been through a lot." He moved round the table and shook Michael's hand. "I don't think you'll listen but take a bit of advice. Rest up, forget about all that's happened and stay out of trouble. At least for a while. You have plenty of people who are on your side. But if you continue to act rashly they'll drop you."

Michael sat down and listened to Smith saying goodbye to Fiona and Sam. It was good advice, it fitted in with what the others wanted him to do. If he could just satisfy his own curiosity about Dawson maybe he would give it a go.

"Michael." Fiona called out to him. "Your mom wants us to call round this morning she says she has something for you."

…..

Sam didn't accompany Michael and Fiona to Madeline's, he wanted to spend some time alone, the news of Fayes death had affected more than he cared to admit. It was in his mind that he should really take some time out to find Larry and put him out of his misery for once and all. All that had happened recently just adding to all the other reasons he had to despise the man.

..

Madeline couldn't stop the smile appearing on her face when Michael told her he was unemployed yet again. He sat at her dining table resting his head in his hands, a miserable look on his face.

"I can't understand why you're sulking Michael. Look at what's happened, look at the state you're in. A rest will do you the world of good." She sat down facing him, unable to take the grin off her face. She had her son back, she turned her attention to Fiona for a moment. "You should both take a vacation. You've got money now haven't you?"

Michael nodded, still unable to see the bright side. Madeline snorted at his lack of communication.

"Well, if you are going to sulk, you can at least go and get me, that lamp from the garage. You know the one I mean. The one with the green shade, I can't reach it."

He gave her a long suffering look, before slowly getting up and going towards the garage. Why did she always have to find something for him to do. He had a vision of spending the rest of his life, repairing ancient household implements and being at the beck and call of his mother.

Madeline continued to grin at his back, she turned to Fiona. "Come on this should be good."

With her curiosity peeked, Fiona followed Madeline outside. She could see Michael stood in the doorway to the garage. Coming up alongside him, she saw all the furniture had been pushed to the sides. Making room for a newly refurbished Dodge Charger.

"Nate's friends repaired all the damage for me." Madeline announced sounding very pleased with herself. "I thought it would be a nice welcome home present for you."

A/N: There all done, I hope you enjoyed. A BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed and left comments. You've all been great I would not have got this story finished without all your suggestions and support.