I was going to wait until I saw how this week's episode began before posting another chapter, but I got a little carried away with an idea, so... here you go! Who knows, after Thursday I may have to post an alternate chapter to stay closer to canon. We'll see. But, for now, enjoy!
Both Michael and Charlie were asleep on their respective couches, and Madeleine was settling in for a long night in an armchair keeping an eye on them when there was a soft knock on the front door. It was a little late for visitors, but Madeleine cautiously made her way to the door and peered through the side window. Standing in the small pool of light from the porch lamp was Fiona. Smiling, Madeleine opened the door, and Fiona stepped inside somewhat sheepishly.
"I couldn't sleep," she muttered, "so I figured I'd come… sit with him."
Madeleine smiled and ushered Fi into the living room and a chair. "That was my plan too, I'd certainly welcome the company," the older woman murmured, careful not to wake either of the boys.
Both women settled into their chairs, Madeleine reading a magazine by the light of a small table lamp, and Fi staring off into space, legs tucked under her, and arms wrapped protectively around her middle.
After about an hour or so, Maddy had dozed off with the magazine face down across her lap, and Fiona was drifting in and out of consciousness herself. That is, until she heard a muffled "Grandma?" from Charlie's couch.
Unfolding from her chair, Fiona crouched down in front of the boy. "Hey Charlie, grandma's sleeping. Can I help you?"
The boy rubbed his eyes and blinked confusedly at her for a moment before asking "Auntie Fi?"
Fiona chuckled softly and replied in whisper, "Yeah Charlie, what's up?"
"I just woke up and wanted to know if Uncle Mike is okay. Grandma let me sleep out here 'cause I wanted to see him when he woke up."
Fiona couldn't help but smile before directing Charlie's attention to the other couch where Michael was out cold. "See darlin', he's still asleep, just like you should be. He probably won't wake up until morning. Uncle Mike… isn't feeling well, and he needs to rest for a while."
Charlie nodded and wiggled his index finger at Fiona, gesturing at her to come closer. Curious, she leaned in until they were almost nose to nose.
"Did he get hurt in a duel?" Charlie whispered. "Was he rescuing another princess?"
Fiona almost choked on her words. Damn, the boy was clever. To be fair, the story hadn't provided a very deep cover, but still… So, she decided to try playing dumb.
"What are you talking about, baby?" she asked.
"Uncle Mike's the knight from your story," Charlie replied, very matter-of-factly.
Fiona sighed. "You are a very clever boy, you know that? Yes, you're right. I got the ideas for the story from real life and Uncle Mike… inspired the knight's adventures."
"I knew it!" Charlie exclaimed before quickly being hushed by Fiona.
"Shh, you'll wake them up. And you need to go back to sleep anyway, okay? I promise Michael- er, Uncle Mike, will be here in the morning. And so will I. Now, get some rest," she said, tucking the boy in and giving him a quick kiss on the head.
Fiona waited a few minutes in her chair to make sure Charlie had fallen asleep before moving over to perch on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch where Michael slept. She just sat watching him breathe for a while. His back was to her, and watching the gentle rise and fall of each breath was oddly soothing, a reminder that he was alive and safe for now.
Fiona sighed, and Michael turned over in his sleep, one arm falling to dangle off the side of the couch. Fiona hesitated a moment before reaching out and taking his hand in hers, idly rubbing her thumb over his knuckles. It was so… comfortable. Feeling the warmth of his hand in hers almost brought tears to her eyes. Taking a breath to steady herself, she was about to let go and try to get some sleep when Michael stirred.
"Fi?" he muttered, groggily.
"Michael?" she forced out, startled. "I'm here."
The ghost of a smile tugged at his lips as he slurred "Good. Stay?"
"I'm not going anywhere, Michael. I'll just be over there by your mother," she whispered, gesturing toward the sleeping woman.
At this, his grip tightened on her hand and he frowned, almost looking afraid. "No. Stay… please?"
Fiona swallowed hard and took a deep breath. Was it lingering effects of the drugs? Or just the ramifications of torture? Either way, Fiona had never seen Michael look so… small.
"Okay," she whispered. "Okay, I'll stay," she murmured, slipping off the table to settle on the floor and lean her head against the couch, never letting go of Michael's hand. Sleeping sitting on the floor wasn't the most comfortable thing ever, and her neck would be sore in the morning, but if it helped, she would do it.