I forgot to upload at midnight. Oops. I blame sinus headaches and Chaos. Mostly Chaos.

Chapter Five "Hope for the Lost"

Before Michael returned to his Mom's house, he made one more stop. It was almost an afterthought, though he knew he should see her before he left again, probably for good. Dani Pearce looked so different in jeans and a t-shirt as opposed to her usual gray suits. Michael already knew that she wasn't all professional all the time, but it was odd to see her like this. She looked happy, and Michael wasn't sure he had seen that before.

"Michael?" she said with surprise when he showed up at her house. "I wasn't expecting to see you. Jesse made it sound like you were just going to be in and out to see your mom."

"I wanted to see how you were doing." Michael flashed his perfect smile, compartmentalizing the events of the morning.

"Well, come on in." Dani stood to the side and ushered Michael into the house. She was the only one who seemed genuinely glad to see him. "I'm still unpacking a bit, but it's all been pretty smooth." She pushed aside a half empty box with her foot and showed Michael into the living room. "Can I get you something to drink?"

"No thanks," Michael said. "I've already had coffee with Jesse and beer with Sam."

"Making the rounds I see."

"Something like that. You said you talked to Jesse?"

"He came by my office yesterday morning. And I saw them all last night. Why?"

Michael shrugged. "It's good you still have friends here."

"Yes." Dani drew out the word. "What are you getting at?"

"Nothing. I'm glad it's all working out. I owe you a lot."

Dani shook her head. "You don't owe me anything. You helped me get the man who murdered my fiance; I'd say we're even."

"Did it help?"

"What do you mean?"

"Catching him. Did it help?"

"Yeah. A lot."

"That's interesting."

"Why."

"Because it never did for me."

"I'm not like you, Michael. The circumstances were different too. I guess I had more time to come to terms with it. It was still hard not to take the easy way out and shoot him."

Michael laughed humorlessly. "The easy way. Let me tell you, it isn't."

Dani shrugged and sunk into the white couch. "I don't know what to tell you, Michael."

"I didn't exactly come here for advice."

"Then why did you?"

Michael stared out the long row of windows facing the backyard. "I wanted to make sure you were okay," he said.

"I'm fine. Thanks to you."

Michael turned back and looked her in the eye. "Then I guess I did one thing right."

Dani shook head head. "This doesn't have to be over. It never is as long as you're willing to fight."

Michael smiled sadly. "I appreciate your optimism, but this is over. I can't come back anymore."

"I don't believe that."

"Well, let me know when you come up with a plan to get me out of the CIA that doesn't involve everyone I love going to prison for life."

Dani nodded slowly. "I will."

"Thank you," Michael said firmly. "For everything you've ever done for me. You're a good friend."

"You mean, after I held you at gunpoint?"

"You were just doing your job. But yes, after that."

"You're welcome, then. I'd do it all again."

Michael nodded. "Me too."

* * * Burn Notice * * *

Michael had taken the Charger when he left Jesse's place. He planned on returning it in the morning before heading to the airport. Jesse made him promise not to get a scratch on it, and Michael thought it was funny how quickly that man became attached to cars.

Madeline was waiting when Michael got back to the house. She had a look that said she wanted to ask what he had been up to all morning, but she just got into the car and didn't say anything. Michael considered explaining anyway, but he couldn't think of where to start. So, they drove across town in silence. Michael already knew where Ruth lived because even though he wasn't close with his former sister-in-law, he liked to keep tabs on anyone connected to him. Anyone who could be used as leverage, and Charlie was one of those people.

When they arrived at the house, Michael was going to wait in the car, but Madeline stood on the curb waiting for him. Michael prepared himself for what might be the most awkward experience of his life. The two of them walked up the concrete pathway to the house. It was one of those neighborhoods that had wrought iron gates instead of screen doors. Madeline rang the doorbell, and they waited for a moment in the hot sun. That was one thing Michael wouldn't miss. Maybe the only thing.

When Ruth came to the door, she didn't look particularly happy to see them. Michael knew she had never liked them very much. "Charlie's in his room," she said.

Michael and Madeline followed her inside. There were toys and books scattered throughout the living room and a stack of unopened bills on the little table by the door. As Madeline went to coax Charlie away from his toys, Michael waited just inside the door. Ruth eyed him suspiciously, and he did his best to ignore her.

"Madeline says you're only here for the weekend?" Ruth said, giving Michael a curious look.

"Yeah," he replied. "I may not be back for a long time." He didn't know why he was telling her this. Perhaps just to fill the silence.

"Good," Ruth said. She didn't try to hide the fact that she didn't want Michael around. He could understand why.

"Listen." Michael stared at the carpet. "If you ever need anything—"

"Why would I need anything from you?"

Michael looked Ruth in the eye. "Because you've got three months' worth of unpaid bills stacked up and a lawn that hasn't been watered since last year. I'm just offering, Ruth. For Nate's sake."

"Well, you know, we wouldn't be having this problem if Nate were still alive, would we? But he's dead, and who's fault is that? Things didn't work out between us, but I know he would have taken care of his son. Not that you know anything about that."

"Ruth—"

"Here we are!" Madeline announced as she led Charlie by the hand out of his bedroom.

Michael was struck by how much Charlie resembled Nate, even as young as he was. He had the same big eyes and hopeful expression. For a moment, he looked as if he might be shy and hide behind Madeline at the sight of a strange man in the house, but instead, he let go of her hand and rushed up to Michael with a smile on his face.

"Can I ride in your car?" he asked. Madeline must have told him about the Charger.

In spite of his discomfort, Michael smiled down at the little boy. "Sure," he said. "But you gotta wait until you're sixteen to drive it."

Charlie laughed and grabbed Michael's hand, pulling him toward the door. "Bye, Mommy!" he called as they left the house.

Madeline followed after them, and Ruth stood in the doorway watching them go. She still didn't look happy about the situation, but it was only one afternoon. Michael would be gone soon enough, and she would never have to worry about him again.

* * * Burn Notice * * *

After a picnic in the park, Charlie wanted to go to the playground. Madeline convinced Michael to go with him because he was too young to play by himself. So, Michael spent an hour or so pushing his nephew on the swings or catching him at the bottom of the slide. At one point, he overheard a nearby mom comment to her friend that the father and son were so cute together. He didn't waste time correcting her because it would seem a bit awkward that he heard them from so far away. It was a gift and a curse to be able to process so much information at once. Michael found himself watching reflections in the metal slide and keeping an eye on everyone who entered or left the park. He wished he could turn that part of his brain off for a while. At least Charlie was having fun.

But after a while, the boy got sleepy, so they headed back to Madeline's house for him to take a nap. He ended up falling asleep in the back of Michael's car in spite of how loud the Charger was.

For a while, things were quiet. Charlie slept in Michael's room, and Madeline attempted to bake cookies. Michael settled in on the couch and read the cooking magazines on the coffee table. A fly on the wall could imagine they were a normal family. For the moment, Michael allowed the illusion. The weekend was almost over, and he might not ever return. One last quiet afternoon with the sun streaming through the front windows was all he could ask for.

It was less than an hour later when Charlie awoke with renewed energy. He came tearing out of the bedroom and jumped up on the couch next to Michael. He had a conspiratorial look in his eyes.

"What?" Michael asked, looking into those all too familiar brown eyes.

"Can we go for a ride?"

"Again?"

Charlie nodded vigorously.

"But M—Grandma is making cookies."

Charlie looked toward the kitchen and then at the door as if trying to decide which he wanted more.

"It's okay," Michael said. "Grandma doesn't make very good cookies. But don't tell her I said that."

Charlie grinned and clapped his hands. "Yay! Let's go." He slid off the couch and started toward the door, but Michael held out his arm, stopping Charlie.

"You have to ask first," he said.

Charlie sighed dramatically and turned and ran into the kitchen. "Grandma!" he practically shrieked. "Can I go for a ride in the black car?"

Madeline looked away from her project for a moment. "But I'm making you some cookies, and you have to go home soon."

"Uncle Michael says your cookies aren't good."

Michael covered his eyes with his hand.

"Did he?" Madeline replied, glaring at Michael. "Well, then, I guess you two can go for a drive, and Michael can drop you off at your mom's house."

"Yippee!" Charlie jumped in the air and gave Madeline a hug. "I love you, Grandma."

"I love you too, Sweetie. Have fun, and be a good boy."

Charlie then rushed back to the living room where Michael was waiting.

"I told you not to tell," Michael said as they headed for the door.

"Oh, I forgot." Charlie looked sheepish.

"It's okay. I just won't tell you anymore secrets."

"Aww! I can keep a secret. I'm real good at it if I try."

"Really?" They reached the car and Michael opened the passenger door. The seat was already down for Charlie to climb in the back.

"Yeah. Can I ride in the front?"

Michael looked at him with skepticism. "Only if you promise not to tell anyone I let you."

"I promise. Pinky promise!" Charlie held out his hand with his little finger extended.

Michael rolled his eyes and returned the gesture. "All right, fine." He put the passenger seat back up. "Hop in."

After making sure Charlie was securely buckled in, Michael got in the driver's side and pulled out onto the road. The drive to Ruth's house was a bit of a distance, so Charlie would have plenty of time to enjoy his ride.

"When I get big, I'm gonna drive a car like this," Charlie said as they merged onto the freeway.

"Is that so?" Michael asked. "Grandma said you liked cars."

"I love cars! My daddy had a bunch of model cars, and Mommy says I can't play with them, but I can keep them in my room."

Michael nodded. "Yeah, your daddy liked cars too."

"Did he have one like this?"

"No, but he wanted one." Michael smiled sadly at the thought.

"Well, I'm gonna have one." Charlie crossed his arms in determination. "Uncle Michael, why did my daddy die?"

Michael was initially speechless at the question. He knew Charlie must have wondered what happened to his dad, but he hadn't expected the sudden change in the subject. It took a moment, but Michael finally gathered his thoughts.

"He was trying to stop a bad guy," he said. "He was doing something good."

"Did the bad guy get away, then?" Charlie sounded miserable at the thought.

"No," Michael assured him. "We got the bad guy. Just like your daddy would have wanted."

"That's good. I wish Daddy didn't have to die."

Michael nodded slowly, trying to keep his focus on the road. "So do I, Charlie."

The rest of the drive was mostly silent as Charlie gazed out the window in awe of the scenery and the speed at which they passed trees and skyscrapers. Occasionally he would emit an excited noise as they passed closely to another car or made a sharp turn.

When they finally pulled up to Ruth's house, Charlie was about to undo his seatbelt when Michael stopped him.

"Don't move," he said in his "operative voice."

Charlie looked up at him wide eyed. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Just stay right here, and don't move, okay?"

Charlie nodded, too afraid to say anything else. Michael knew he had frightened his nephew, but given the fact that Ruth's gate was left open and the lock on the iron door was broken, it was certainly time to be afraid.