-BN-

Fiona watched Michael as he drove back to Madeline's house. He was bleeding from a cut beneath his left eye, the blood running down his cheek, dripping onto his shirt. His split lip was also bleeding. Yet all his focus was on the road ahead. He was scowling at it. Fiona had never seen Michael scowl. Frown, yes. But not scowl. Something was bothering him.

Of course something was bothering her. She had never seen Michael be so, so cruel. Dislocating Johnny's shoulder just because he swore at him... It wasn't something Michael would do. Her brother, Sean? Yes, in a heartbeat. But this wasn't her Michael. The shadows in his eyes told her something had happened while he'd been away, something bad.

"You're staring at me," said Michael, still looking at the road ahead.

"Am I?" She shrugged as she turned to look out the window.

"Yes."

"Just wondering who you are. The Michael I knew wouldn't have done that to Johnny."

"People change," growled Michael.

Fiona turned to look at him again. "What happened to you?"

Michael glanced at her before looking back at the road, not answering her question.

"Michael, talk to me."

"Oh, now you want to talk." He scoffed.

"You left," she spat. All the anger she had felt before returning again. All that hurt.

"I asked you to come with me," he sighed. "You didn't."

She folded her arms underneath her chest slumping down in the seat, the memories of that final day six years ago coming back to her.

Michael stood in front of her, his wounds still fresh. She could see him trying to stand up straight but his wounds not allowing it. He looked so pale, the bruises that covered one side of his jaw and neck standing out in a harsh contrast. The bombshell that he'd just delivered her still ringing in her ears. He was leaving.

"Fi, come with me. We could make a life together, somewhere where people aren't trying to kill us."

She just continued to stare at him, her mouth hanging open slightly. What exactly was he asking of her?

"Fi? It would be a new start. Just you and me."

She looked at the new car next to him, his bags already loaded in the trunk. "You're going now?"

"End of the day," he said grimly. This was it; what she wanted. Michael to herself. No threat of his burn notice hanging over their head. A normal life. But why did they have to leave? She had made a life here in Miami. It was as settled as she'd ever been since leaving Ireland.

"Michael, I…." What could she say? Yes? She should say yes. But something was holding her back. Why such the rush for him to leave now, today? Nate hadn't even woken up yet. Was he hiding something? She didn't want to start something new on lies. Michael continued to watch her, not saying anything. This shouldn't be so hard.

"I'll be at the pier until six. I hope you're with me," sighed Michael as he walked back up the stairs to his loft.

-BN—

The broken down vehicle was blocking her way. She was going to be too late. Flinging open the car door she started to run as fast as her legs would take her. Pushing past people not caring how much damage she did. She had to get there.

She could see the pier now. Putting on an extra burst of speed she picked up her pace. Her lungs were on fire, her muscles burning as she pushed her body further. She had to get there.

She could see him; he was leaning against the side of the car. He was looking at his watch, looking at the crowd.

"Michael," she screamed. He didn't hear her, there were too many people. "Michael!" She watched as he got in the car. No, he was leaving. Leaving without her. She tripped, falling to the ground skidding across the concrete. Pain burst through her hands and knees as the gravel bit into her skin. Scrambling to her feet she ignored it and pushed forward.

The car with Michael in it was pulling away. She screamed his name again. Ignoring the people staring at her, she pushed forward. Look back, look back, she screamed though her mind. The car was getting further away. He wasn't looking back. He was gone.

She stared at the last point she had seen the car with Michael in. The place where the traffic had engulfed him. She had lost sight of him. He hadn't looked back.

The tears were falling freely down her cheeks. She had no cell phone, no way of catching him, no way of getting him back. He was gone.

-BN—