Disclaimer: I do not own burn notice or the characters.
Chapter three.
"I tell you Fi he's being to quiet." Sam was worried.
Michael had been back for three days now and had hardly spoken a word to any of them. He had spent most of his time either in his old bedroom or sat out in the backyard. David, the doctor they had helped not so long ago had visited everyday and declared that all he needed now was food and if at all possible rest.
"He's been through a lot. He just needs a couple of days to pull himself together that's all." Fiona replied. Masking her own concerns with a smile.
"No Fi you don't understand. I've seen him like this before. It did not end well."
"What do you suggest?"
"I know you're not going to agree. He needs a kick up the butt. He is a trained operative. We've both seen him in worse shape physically and keep going." He held up a hand. "Apart from that, he should be kept busy, because I can't see him sitting down and talking about what happened can you?"
She shook her head. "Vaughn has been pushing more and more for a meeting. Maybe next time he calls Michael should answer the phone."
"Yeah, and we should stop doing everything for him too." Sam gave her a smile.
Both Fiona and Madeline had been waiting on Michael constantly since he had come home. At first Sam had found it funny that a few days earlier Fiona had been blowing warehouses up and shooting guns and now she was coaxing an ex spy to eat up all his veg and making sure he had drunk enough water.
She laughed at this, it was true. Somehow she had been sucked into a sort of competition with Michael's mother. The pair of them falling over each other to care for him.
"You can tell Maddie." She told him.
Michael was propped up against the wall in his bedroom. The folder filled with all the intelligence he and Jesse had gathered on his lap. David had given him the all clear to remove the dressings that had covered his eyes. Though he probably would not of approved of his patient pouring over paperwork for hours at a time. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, screwing his eyes shut trying to ease the throbbing pain that was building in his head. He could find nothing that hinted at a third party who would know about the book code, and how did they find out about the hand off.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a knock on his door and Fiona coming in.
"Me and Sam are going to the gun range, feel like coming?"
He gave her a bitter little smile and lifted up his hands, fingers on both splinted. "I don't think I'd be much use. Do you?"
"Nonsense Michael." She dismissed his words, searching the floor for his trainers. "I have seen you shoot a gun with broken fingers before."
He raised an eyebrow. "Once. And it was with two broken fingers not all of them. I'll give it a miss."
She found his footwear and slapped his feet onto the floor. "You can come and keep us company then." She took the folder, shutting it and dropped it onto his dresser. "This isn't a request."
Sighing, wondering what had bought on this change of attitude. He pushed his feet into the trainers, and stood up. Taking the offered sunglasses he followed her out to the car only half listening to her telling him about her latest gun deal. He watched them at the shooting range and allowed them to drag him to an out of the way bar for a beer afterwards. Half way through the day trip he realised what they were doing and tried to enjoy himself. It was hard as he felt he was being watched even though he couldn't see who by.
Later that evening after Michael had excused himself and gone to bed the others sat up. They had got used to doing this over the last few weeks. Then it had been to go over intelligence and making plans of attack. Now a relaxing silence took over the group. For now they were all together, no one more hurt now than they had been at the beginning of the day.
After a time though the silence was broken by Jesse. "Does Mike have a plan of action yet?"
"No, or if he has he's not sharing." Sam took a swig of his bottle of beer.
"It's just it's been more than a few days now and -"
"Give him time Jesse." Fi snapped.
"He has a point Fi, we need him focussed. Because we've not got a hope of figuring this out by ourselves." Sam defended the younger man.
"Are you forgetting it was you that carried him in here unconscious." Madeline felt the need to stand up for her son. "And you had to hold him down so David could treat him."
"No Maddie I've not forgotten, but Mike won't thank you for mollycoddling him and putting everyone in danger." Sam told her off, but spoke softly to take the sting out of the words.
Madeline treated him to a hard stare, keeping eye contact she lit up a cigarette. "Are you telling me a navy seal, a counter intelligence agent and a gun dealer cannot work this out without my son however injured he is?" Her gaze covered them all now.
"That's right Maddie, we need him." Sam answered for them all.
"Well that is just ridiculous." She retorted before going outside. Over the last year she had decided that sometimes it was better not to know what her son was involved in.
In the bedroom Michael had not gone to bed, he was back looking at the folder. He had heard their words and an idea was forming in his head.
When Vaughn rang first thing in the morning. Sam hit the loud speaker key on the cell and gestured to Michael to speak to his handler.
With a glare, he took the call. He managed to contain his anger at the man whose actions had started the gun battle that had got him shot. He even agreed to a face to face meeting the following day much to Sam's dismay.
Meeting Vaughn was going to be a problem. Michael knew it. He also knew it had to be done. He blocked out the objections of everyone of his friends. They had after all wanted him to take charge.
He promised them he would be careful. After he explained his plan. They grudgingly conceded he was being sensible. Or at least not totally reckless.
He picked a bar in the middle of the day, lots of witnesses if they tried to kill him. Lots of potential
victims and a spot on the news if they tried to grab him off the street.
He knew how bad he looked, Fi had made it very plain to him when he told them what he planned. She trimmed his hair and gave him a shave. He would never appear at a meeting unshaven and scruffy.
Black wrap round sun glasses hid his eyes effectively and protected them from the sunlight that hurt them so much.
Though not his normal style, loose fitting casual clothing helped disguise the weight loss and meant he could hide his hands in the pockets.
The rest, the pallor and the new lines on his face, he had to hope Vaughn would think was from the effects of the bullet wound.
Fi drove him to the meeting early so he could be sat at a table waiting. Sam had taken up position close by to provide back up if necessary.
Michael sat uncomfortably in his chair waiting at the table, scanning the crowd. He soon spotted his expensively dressed handler pushing through the crowd.
"Finally, we thought you had run out on us." Vaughn was his usual jovial self. He held out his hand, shark like fake smile in place, but dropped both when Michael refused to shake his hand.
Michael gave a fake smile of his own. "Maybe if you had stuck to the original plan I wouldn't of got shot. And we wouldn't be having this conversation." He retorted.
"Old news Michael, we want to know who has the bible now?"
"Jesse is helping me again, we're going through everything he has. But it would go faster if you could tell us who else might be after the book code."
"Michael, with the bible gone. Your mission has failed we are thinking that maybe we over estimated your abilities. Did you tell us everything Simon had to say on the subject?"
"I told you everything he told me." He lied smoothly.
Vaughn looked him over, it was unnerving. "Tell you what Michael I'll go and see what I can find out. You look a little tired." He got up. "You stay there. I'll call in a day or so."
He called for his car, as he got inside he opened his cell. "Find out which Doctor treated Westen, I think he was injured more than his letting on."
"So that's over with." Michael commented as he gently lowered himself back into the car.
"You didn't learn anything Michael." Fi pulled away, heading back to Madeline's. "And you have worn yourself out." She pointed out.
"It had to be done. Now he'll leave us alone at least for a few days." He rested his head back and let out a sigh. "Fi, lets go to the loft for a while."
"Madeline's is safer."
"Please Fi, it's never quiet there." He faced her, "I'd like just for a little while, it to just be the two of us."
"For a while." She agreed.
She had to help him up the stairs, then once inside he took the sun glasses off and leant against her.
Gently holding her in his arms he kissed the top of her head.
"I know I'm not the best patient," he whispered "But I missed you so much."
She sunk into the kiss up until he gasped as her arms wrapped around his waist. A reminder of all his bruises. "Michael," she broke the kiss. "I don't think-"
"It's OK Fi, I'm not really up to much more than a kiss, but I thought -"
"When you are better." She stroked his cheek. "It'll be a date."
He nodded, turning his attention to his other reason for wanting to come to the loft.
"Why do you need that?" She asked.
Going though various drawers he had eventually dragged out an old wallet.
"I like to have a wallet, that's all." He blatantly lied.
She didn't pull him on it. She would just steal it later and find out why he wanted it. He was seemed almost back to his old self. They spent an hour sitting, talking and sharing the occasional kiss. She began to hope it could turn out all right.
Later back at Madeline's they ate a nice meal of take out. For the first time since coming home Michael ate his meal without his mother watching his every mouthful. He did not have Fiona constantly topping up his glass of water and neither of them glared at Sam when the Ex navy seal offered him a beer.
Afterwards Michael sat down with Jesse to try and come up with any sort of useful intelligence. Eventually Michael pushed the folder across the table anger and frustration bubbling to the surface.
"This is useless." He stood up, "I'm going to bed."
He was angry, but not for the reason they thought. Back in his room he dug out the old wallet. It held every business card he had been given since arriving in Miami. He sorted through them all until he found the one he wanted. He sat staring at it for an age. This was why he was angry, he had hoped not to have to make this call. If that damn folder had held a single piece of useful intel he would not have to make this phone call.
"It's not going well is it?" Madeline commented, she sat at the table across from Jesse.
"No Maddie it's not." Sam replied. He moved the folder even further away. "The are so many damn players in this game and no way of telling who is who."
Fiona walked to the table and took a seat. "What if he can't do this, if it is to much?"
"Not you to Fi, he's depressed, he's been through hell, but what's your excuse." Sam was feeling a bit frayed himself.
"I mean," she said "what if we all ran. Me and Jesse got to the Bahamas not so long ago. With false passports we could get a lot further." She warmed to her theme. "Ireland is out of course but South America is nice I've heard. If they found us at all, it would take them weeks and Michael would be better-"
"No Fi," He stopped her flow. "Do you seriously think we're not being watched. Michael is on all the blacklists. And what about Maddie?" Her idea, shot down in flames. "What do you think they would do to us all if either side caught us trying to get hold of false passports?"
The phone call did not go as badly as he had expected it to. In fact after a bit of apologizing he got what he wanted.
He looked at the phone, a puzzled expression on his face. It had been far to easy. He lay back on the bed flicking the business card against his teeth. A smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
If you don't give me what I want I will rain bloody hell down on you, and I am very, very good at raining down hell. You would think that someone who knows me would remember that.
It's not something I've done recently, but all the same. My feelings are hurt. Just like my eyes. Just like my fingers.
The is part of me that is like him, but it is only a part and the longer I am with you the smaller it gets. Until now.
It has been four years since I got dumped in Miami. It strikes me a lot of people who should know better. Have forgotten who I was, what I have done for this country.
Don't forget I'm pretty dangerous too. Especially when you leave me no way out.
They either hadn't done their homework, or thought everything in the burn notice was fake.
Do you think I wouldn't end you to save myself? They'll never make that mistake again.
Have they forgotten about the people I've lied to or betrayed?
That's not you Michael, that's not the man I raised. Sorry ma, you're wrong. That's exactly the son you raised.
Making that type of mistake on a character judgement, well that gets you killed.
Tomorrow he would look to confirm the gut feeling he had, if he was right he could confirm it in a day. Nobody threatened his family and friends and lived long enough to regret it.
Carla had done it as a last desperate act. Management had turned him loose rather than try it.
He put the card into an old hiding place. Fiona would probably steal the wallet before the morning, hoping to find out what he was up to.