Title: Enough
Author: knightshade
Rating: PG
Summary: Michael's thoughts on his 'family.'

Disclaimer: I don't own Knight Rider or its characters. Glen A. Larson and Universal are the people to see.

Author's Notes: Thank you to Tomy for the read through, the suggestions, and the commiseration. hugs hon This takes place between Knight Rider and Knight Rider 2000.

Enough

He wasn't sure when exactly they really became family. He'd been thinking about that a lot lately. It was one drawback to fishing – like driving, there was a lot of time to think. Too much time. Michael rolled his shoulders and leaned back against one of the pier's pilings, his left foot dangling over the edge. He wasn't sure how long he'd been sitting there, staring down at the waves lapping over his foot. They were swirling around his ankle and then rushing off to wherever it was they were going -- leaving them alone with his thoughts.

At some point Devon's pompous clucking and belittling became more endearing than annoying. The paternal nagging had become more paternal and less nagging. He wasn't sure when he actually realized that when push came to shove, he'd always find Devon firmly in his corner. It was such a slow process, like the eroding of a shoreline, that he hadn't seen the transformation taking place until it was done.

It was a little easier to pinpoint when his relationship with Bonnie changed – it was when she left. He hadn't anticipated how much he'd miss her. When she came back after a year away, he was reminded of the time his older brother first came home from college. Michael had been so happy to have him back that he wasn't going to ruin it by fighting with him over the car keys. When Bonnie rejoined the Foundation, Michael felt like they were starting over, without all the tension and rancor. They still had the occasional argument about Kitt, but he'd figured out that it wasn't personal, that she was just over-protective of him. She'd probably be like that with anyone. It was a part of her personality that he'd learned to accept, like Devon's fastidiousness.

Michael wrapped his arm around his knee and pulled it in, closer to his body. The breeze was kicking up a bit and the sun was starting to set. He watched as the shadows on the lake started their slow march eastward, growing away from the setting sun.

This trip down memory lane was headed right where it always went. The route never changed – it always brought him to Kitt. There wasn't one word or metaphor that could possibly sum up their relationship. Kitt was part friend, part older brother, part younger one, part companion, part partner.

In the beginning it had seemed like Michael was made to be like Wilton. He was given Wilton's rugged, chiseled face and it matched his brash, driven, stubborn personality – just like it did on the old man. Kitt on the other hand seemed made to be like Devon. Their temperaments were probably a lot more alike than either realized. And maybe that had been intentional on Wilton's part. He and Devon had been friends for a long time. Maybe it just followed suit that Michael and Kitt would be as well.

Sure, they'd had their clashes early on. Michael had thought that Kitt was too prim, precise, and huffy. And he knew that Kitt had a host of complaints about him too. But despite all their differences, somehow they'd grown very close very quickly. Maybe it was just because they were risking their lives together, but it felt like more than that. Kitt had been the first one he accepted as family – the first one he embraced into his new life. Kitt had been the means for him to open up again, to let people in after losing everyone who meant anything to him. Kitt had brought him back to life. Which was why none of those easy descriptions – friend, brother companion, partner -- seemed to fit him exactly. None of them were enough.

And in the end it had been Michael who hadn't been enough -- of anything.

He'd walked away. He'd abandoned the one person who really needed him. He'd failed Kitt completely . . .

Michael tipped his head back and closed his eyes, trying to keep the guilt at bay. He wasn't going to let himself go down this path again. He just couldn't. Instead he pulled his foot out of the water and decided it was time to go inside. Tonight he'd work on the Chevy instead of fishing. Tinkering required more focus; his mind didn't wander nearly as much.

Michael grabbed his pole and headed back down the dock toward the shore, staring at the long shadow he was casting. The wooden slots below him were bathed in a pink and yellow glow, but Michael doggedly ignored the sun that was slowly setting behind his back.

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- knightshade
July 20, 2005