As the bullet speeds towards me I know this is the end of my life. It's strange how long it seems a bullet can take to travel ten feet when you're on the receiving end. When I thought about how I would die I always figured it would be like this and yet not like this. I always imagined that I would be fighting five guys off with three at my feet already and a bomb about to go off, dramatic I know. But here, with one person standing across from me and a bomb nowhere in sight I think I'd rather not die like this.
My life isn't flashing before my eyes, at least not in the typical movie way where it's all your proudest moments on display. Instead I'm cursed with my last thoughts to be about my regrets, every move I have made that I regret, every action or word spoken that hurt someone I cared about. Strangely and not so surprisingly most of them involve Fiona. I could never get it right when it came to her; every action I took was a step backwards mostly because I was blinded by my own ambitions to realize that I had everything I needed in front of me.
I feel the bullet hit me about three centimeters above the spot where my heart is, I feel the ribs crack and break as the bullet enters my body. I'm sent backwards by the force of it, stumbling backwards into the wall. My head cracks against it and I know that if I live to see tomorrow I'm going to have one hell of a headache. I slump to the ground the gun clattering against the concrete floor and the blood already dripping onto the floor.
As I lie there I wonder if Miami Dade police will investigate my death but considering I have no past they probably won't. The realization that my death will go unsolved in the records nearly gives me the strength to get up except this isn't a movie and I'm only human. I hear more gun fire and I wait for the bullets to hit me and for my existence to finally fade away but instead I hear the clatter of guns hitting the concrete and someone running towards me. "Michael!" Fi's voice calls out and I know that she is right next to me because I feel her hand holding mine and I feel her frantic breath on my face as she tries to help me breath but it seems like she is a million miles away.
I'm slipping away faster than I can catch myself. The blackness is so inviting, so comfy that it seems like a waste not to slip into and let the pain drift away. I let go of myself and let it suck me backwards and the last things I hear as I slip away are her cries for me to stay with her. I wish I could tell her I'm always with her, even when we fight; my thoughts are always about her.
___
I hear the single gun shot and know instantly that it isn't Michael's Sig and that he must be in trouble. I look at Sam who seems to have realized the same thing as me because he is grabbing his gun and opening the car door. I follow him and within five seconds he is kicking the door down. We both start firing at the same time and the man who was holding the gun collapses to the ground. Sam goes in and checks the perimeter and I scan the area looking for Michael.
My heart stopped when I saw Michael's body on the ground, the blood already seeping from a wound three or so centimeters above where his heart was "Michael!" I called out and before I could stop my self I was running over to him.
Our eyes met and I could see him slipping away from me faster than I was breathing, I bent over him and tried to give him CPR but I saw no use. I was kidding myself, a shot that close, No. He's not going to die I told my self and I whispered over and over again "Don't leave me Michael. I need you. Don't Leave me." I repeated but he slipped away from me.
Sam came rushing over and with an uncharacteristically swift movement he had his shirt off and was already dealing with Michael's wound. I sat there watching as Sam did his best to stop Michael's wound and as I did I realized that this side of Sam never appeared in front of Michael and me. This side of him was the Navy Seal side, the side that he had left behind years ago. It was fascinating to watch and as I did it took me away from the almost certain fact that Michael was dead. "I've got a pulse." He said in utter amazement
My spirits lifted at those three words and I seemed to float back to reality as sirens were blaring faintly in the distance. I looked at Sam and on the unspoken count we lifted Michael and carried him out to the car and set him in the back seat of the Charger. As I sat down in the passenger seat I was surprised when Sam grabbed my hand "He's going to be okay Fi. I'm going to take him to my doctor friend and see what he can do, off the books."
___
I'm sure I'm dead mainly because it is illogical for me not to be dead considering the bullet hit me just centimeters from my heart. Somehow though, I don't think I am because I doubt heaven would smell like a mixture of cigarettes and that perfume I got Fi ages and ages ago. My head is pounding and my chest feels like it's on fire but pain means I'm alive and I'm very happy to be alive. I don't want to open my eyes because I'm afraid that if I do it will confirm I'm dead and all my hopes will have been a cruel trick of fate.
Mustering all the courage and wounded and probable dead ex-spy can I opened my eyes and was relieved to see I was in my old bed room. I instantly recognized the wallpaper and spot on the ceiling where I threw a wrench at my father but missed badly. All around me are signs that I am still alive and not wishing I was. I close my eyes and blink just to be sure but when I open them I am still lying in my old room. I try and turn my head but the smallest movements, I'm soon to realize, send waves of nausea and pain coursing through my body. I close my eyes and wait for it to pass and as my eyes are closed I feel my self getting dragged back into that state of unconsciousness, I fight a loosing battle and I am soon back under its spell.
---
I silently accepted the cup of tea Maddie handed me and tore my eyes away from Michael's sleeping form just long enough to mutter a word of thanks. The cup was warm as I held it in my hands and even as I took a sip it could do nothing to relieve the feeling that Michael was going to die. He had only woken up once and that was just long enough to try and turn his head and realize that it was agony. Even as he slept the pain was clear on his face in such a way that he would never let show if he was conscious.
I've been sitting here for two days alternating with his mother who would sit on the chair and I would go to Nate's old room and try to sleep. Every time I close my eyes I see his lifeless body surrounded by blood and the bullet just visible in between to broken ribs. If I had to guess I probably got between five and eight hours of sleep in the past two days but Sam had been getting even less. He was up half the night drinking bottles of beer and the other half was spent reassuring Maddie that Michael was going to survive. It has always shocked how much beer Sam can drink and still remain as sober as a stone, he drinks at least two bottles an hour and that may not seem crazy, in fact slow for Sam, but when he's sitting there just staring out the window it is very unnerving.
The door creaks open and Sam walks in his hair is messy and there are bags under his eyes that show how little sleep he has had and how much beer he's been drinking "How is he?" He asks as if the sight of Michael's still unconscious body is somehow different than the last time he asked
"You think that there is some change Sam." I reply a little bit too sharply "you think that I want the constant reminder that there has been no change since we brought him here?"
"You're not the only one who cares about him Fiona!" he retorts and the words sting like salt poured on an open wound. He see's my expression and softens "Hey." He says and walks over to me "He's going to be alright." He says as he puts his hand on my shoulder
I turn my head and look at him "Do you really believe that or are you saying that to make me feel better. I'm not six Sam I can tell when people are lying to me."
He sighed slowly "Fi" his tone was soft and gentle "I know of other people who have survived worse than this, your brother is one of them."
I nodded half accepting this explanation but still "Why is he still unconscious?' I asked and I was beginning to feel like the six year old I had told Sam I wasn't
"Michael has taken a lot of beatings lately his body is just taking the time it needs to recuperate." Sam turned and walked out of the room leaving me and my worries alone with my cold cup of tea.
---
When I wake up the second time there is no light shining in from the window or any light that I can see coming from inside the room. My head is throbbing less than it was and I can turn my head slightly too both sides and gain more bearings on my room. To my right is the wall and while I'm sure I would learn a lot by staring at it the figure to my left is a much more welcome sight. To my left Fiona is sitting in a chair from my dining room table on foot resting on the seat and her head resting on that knee. I groan slightly as a wave of pain encompasses my torso just as I mange to silence my groan Fi's head shoots straight up and I see her hand reach instinctively for the gun that lay in her lap. "Fi." I say before breaking out into a coughing fit, my throat feels like sandpaper as I try to speak.
---
I am finally able to fall asleep and I am resting in an uneasy dream land when I hear a groan coming from the bed. Instantly I grab my gun and begin to raise it before I realize that Michael has woken up, he is trying to speak and "Fi." He tries to speak my name before breaking out into a fit of coughing
I reach out and grab the cup of water that has been sitting on the bedside table just for this occasion and help him drink some of it. He tries to gulp it down but I'm afraid he might choke so I pull the cup away "Little sips." I said and I see the hint of a smile play across his otherwise pain stricken face.
After about ten tiny sips he seems satisfied and tries to talk again "Fi-" he pauses while he starts coughing again so I put a finger to his lips and smile at him. He knows I won't leave his side and anyway now that he is alive I might be able to get some sleep. As I sit back down I watch as he closes his eyes and with a small smile still playing on his lips he falls asleep. I can tell he's sleep and not a weird come because he is still smiling and not grimacing in pain or moaning.
Satisfied I shift myself from the chair to the other side of the bed which is completely empty. For some strange reason I feel like he did that on purpose, leave that side of the bed open for me. I know I should go to Nate's room but it seems like Michael is pulling towards that spot next to him. I sigh, and slip of my shoes and walk over to the other side of the bed. I just lay on top of the blankets not wanting to disturb Michael. As I lay there I think about how close I can to loosing him and how I could never have survived that, although I would probably never admit it to him, I needed him more than anything. We seemed to fit together like two pieces of a puzzle. His calm and always logical actions balanced by erratic and most of the time hasty ones. I was just about to drift off when someone's hand grab's mine. I open my eyes and look over just in time to see Michael's eyes close in a satisfied kind of way. I fell asleep like that, my head resting on his good shoulder our fingers intertwined in a permanent kind of way.
Okay, so I revised the story and added a lot. I wasn't completely happy with the previous ending but I am happy with this one. Hope you didn't get to confused with the changes of perspective I just think that if you write in the first person you get more of a sense of what is going on inside the characters head. I have decided to make this chapter four instead of replacing chapter three because...well I don't actually know but I hope that you enjoy it. Also if you like tell me which one you like better.
AllOverTheWorld