The car hydroplanes, and as the car whips around she thinks, 'This is it, this is how I'm going to die, in a fucking car accident! I'm not ready to die! Not like this! Not now! Not with-'
The car comes to a halt and Fiona can hear her own breathing as she hyperventilates. Her chin trembles and her hands shake as she looks around her. She takes in a deep breath trying to calm her nerves finally realizing she's alive, safe, and unharmed.
"Oh, thank you, thank you, thank you," she chants wrapping her arms protectively around herself. Palming her face dry with her hands she collects herself. She gently shifts the car into reverse and backs up before sliding the car into drive and slowly continues on her way to Michael's loft.
"Michael… Michael you need to wake up. Please Michael wake up for mom," Madeline pleads as she sits on the grown, pulling her grown son against her body, gently rocking him while trying to keep him warm.
The rain has finally stopped and steam rises off the cold pavement as the air continues to warm after the chilling rain shower.
Madeline's wet clothes cling to her, chilling her skin but Michael is the one who is shivering, well not exactly shivering. His body jerks slightly before resolving into a slight tremble before settling into a passed out calm.
Sam is the first to arrive. He parks and walks through the gate seeing Madeline's car still running, the car's headlights illuminating both her and Michael.
"Madeline, where's the Charger?" Sam asks curious while careful to avoid what looks to be vomit and blood as he bends down onto his knees, dropping his bag so he can lay his hands on Michael.
"I don't' know," she says looking around, realizing for the first time that Michael's car isn't there.
Sam gently eases Michael out of Madeline's arms. "His head's been bleeding," Sam says out loud as he notices the stains on Madeline's blouse.
"Mikey? Mikey it's me Sam," Sam says, looking for a response from Michael.
Michael grimaces as Sam shifts him to a laying position on the ground.
"Wake up and tell me what happened Mike." Sam pleads as his hand grasps Michael's wrist feeling the weak but steady pulse under his fingers. Michael doesn't reply, doesn't even open his eyes.
Sam grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him, "Wake up Mike!" Michael groans, but it's not the response Sam had been hopefully for.
Sam glances up at Madeline, "How long has he been like this?"
"The past couple of minutes. He was able to talk to me earlier before I called you. But now he won't wake up Sam."
"Okay," Sam breathes as he inspects Madeline's handiwork, "You did the right thing. I'll take a closer look when we get him inside," he tells her as he checks the chest wound for bleeding.
Sam hesitates for a brief second then-
Thwack!
The sound of his slap across Michael's cheek surprises Madeline. But it doesn't surprise anyone as much as it does Michael Westen whose eyes snap open instantly, wide like a frightened animal's. Fear laced with pain mires his features. The look sends a chill through Sam's soul.
"Hey, sorry, its okay, you're okay," Sam states calmly, trying to sound soothing but failing miserably.
"We're going to get you inside. Can you tell me what hurts?" Sam asks staring into Michael's eyes finally having him conscious enough to talk to him.
Michael blinks, rolling his head from side to side.
"Come on, concentrate," Sam urges, placing his hands on Michael's face, stopping him from moving, making him focus on himself.
"Mmph… m'ah head hurts… and m'ah side…" Michael finally groans out, words slurred.
"Alright, can you walk?" Sam asks as he gets up onto his feet pulling Michael up with him. Michael inhales sharply as his world spins from the pain and he feels himself slipping downward only to be caught and supported by Sam's strong arms.
"Alright, easy there," Sam says in warning.
"Grab my bag, turn off your car and open the door for me," Sam yells over to Madeline.
"Michael, you're getting too big to be carried," Sam says jokingly, but he says it so softly he wonders if Michael heard him.
Sam slides his arm around Michael's back, and the other under the back of his knees, lifting gently. He staggers at first then steadies himself and carefully makes his way up the steps to the loft, with Michael lying against his chest, safe for the moment in his arms.
Michael's eyes slide shut and he remains eerily quiet during the few moments it takes Sam to cautiously walk up the stairs. Sam's nearly to the last couple of steps when the lines on Michael's brow bunch in confusion and a tentative childlike voice asks in confusion, "Dad?"
Sam stops mid-step and nearly slips on the slick metal steps, startled by the simple question.
"No, Mikey, it's me Sam," he gently corrects.
Michael doesn't seem to hear him, much less understand him but turns his head into Sam's chest and mumbles words that will haunt Sam for several nights, "M'sorry, about the car… I'll fix it, I swear... Please don't be angry-"
A lump forms in Sam's throat as emotion over takes him, he's barely able to get the words out, "It's okay, I forgive you," Sam whispers softly against Michael's temple.
Sam watches as Michael's lips tremble between a sad smile and the trembling of a child who's tiring hard to hold back tears.
Madeline stands at the top of the platform, holding the door open for Sam to walk through with Michael. Her expression remains blank but it's the way her eyes meet Sam's which lets him know she knows and for a brief second Sam hates her for it. Sam hates that his friend that he loves like a brother… loves like a son, was raised by a man who treated his son like he was worthless, abusing him verbally and physically caring more for booze and his car than his own family.
Madeline turns on the lamp, lighting the dark loft as Sam carefully lays Michael down on his bed.
At that moment the loft door creaks open and both Sam and Madeline whip around to face the intruder.