Written by Codename Ghost
Date: 8/15/97
Epilogue
Dr. Sorenson decreed that it would be at least a week before Michael would
be allowed back on light duty and another two weeks before he could return
to full duty. Any other time and Michael would of taken a few days rest,
gone back to work--there was always something that could be done, even
if one had an arm in a sling--but this time he accepted it, knowing he
could use the time to recover from his ordeal. Two days spent in the Medical
section and as soon as he was given leave to go, Dr. Sorenson's orders
still echoing in his mind, he was summoned to Madeline's office.
He had been expecting the summons and was not surprised to see Operations
standing back behind Madeline's desk, Madeline sitting in her chair, looking
cool and composed as always, giving him a smile that did not quite reach
brown eyes. No offer for him to sit down but he would of refused it all
the same, just stood before the desk and waited for them to speak.
And of course it was Operations who spoke first, stripping off his glasses
with an angry gesture to point them at Michael, tone scathing. "I
might expect that kind of grandstanding from a raw recruit--but not from
someone with your level of experience."
"It got the job done, didn't it?" he responded calmly.
Operations leaned over the desk, hands placed flat on its surface. "You
were lucky. The Section does not rely on luck."
"What would you have done, if I'd come back here without establishing
my loyalty?" Michael asked softly and Operations merely stared back
at him, expression stony, that in itself an answer... as if he needed one.
"You got what you wanted--Warfield is safe, you have Legion members
in custody, one of which is highly placed." And from what he had heard
Pietro--after an initial resistance--had been very forthcoming, providing
the first good information they'd ever gotten on the Legion.
"That kind of behavior is not acceptable." snapped Operations.
"Is that understood?"
"Yes."
Operations gave him a look of disgust and stalked out of the room, Michael
suppressed a sigh and shifted his attention to Madeline. "Is there
anything else?"
"Yes, there is." She rose from her chair and came around the
desk, leaning back against it. "I think that you should see someone
in Psych."
Even though he had been expecting this as well, he stiffened at the suggestion
and clamped down hard on the irrational surge of anger, making eyes and
tone cool as he lifted his chin a little. "That would be a waste of
time, wouldn't it?" he asked, raising his eyebrows. "I've been
here long enough, I know exactly what they want to hear."
"Not for the Section but for you, Michael." Brown eyes sad and
compassionate and he looked away, jaw tightening. "You've been through
a great deal in the last several months and you have a lot of emotions
to sort through. You're angry with yourself for giving in, for being weak,
when there was nothing else you could do. If you're going to work past
that, find a balance again, then you're going to need help."
He smiled thinly. "Thank you but no. I think I've had enough brainwashing."
"Your choice, Michael." said Madeline softly. "I'm here
to talk if you need to."
Michael gave her a slight, mocking bow and left her office.
Back at his apartment building for the first time in what seemed years,
taking the elevator up to the third floor and about to head to 308 when
he remembered that he was forgetting something, went back down the hall
to stop before 301 and knocked on the door. No response and he was about
to knock a second time when he finally heard footsteps on the other side
and the sound of a padlock being drawn back, stepped back as the door opened
to reveal a plump, middle-aged woman with graying brown hair drawn into
a bun, wearing a flowered apron over a dress, eyeglasses on a chain and
resting on her bosom.
"Hello, Beatrice."
The woman lifted the glasses to set them over her nose, frowning as she
looked at him, and then her face broke out into a wide smile, transforming
her and showing the beauty she must of been. "Michel! Wherever have
you been?"
He leaned in to give her a kiss on each cheek, taking the hands that she
extended and allowing her to draw him into her apartment. "Come in,
come in--my goodness, I thought you had dropped off the face of the earth.
And look at you, so thin--what did you do to your poor arm?" Beatrice
clucked her tongue and shook her head at him, he just managed to suppress
the grin she always brought him, knowing that when she was in mid-scold
she would not be stopped and any sign that she was not being taken seriously
only increased the lecture. "Seven months you have been gone, such
a long time with no word at all, I thought you might of died!" She
crossed herself as she said the last. "So you will tell me where you
have been for so long?"
"Family business--I'm sorry I couldn't get in touch with you."
He looked around the apartment and asked, "You still have her, don't
you?"
Beatrice put on an affronted look. "As if I would throw her out, just
because I thought you were never coming back. I said I would watch her
for you, did I not?"
Something brushed against his foot and he bent over to stroke the back
of the white long-haired cat, she lifted her head to give him a lofty look
from blue eyes and rubbed her head against his hand, forgiving him for
his transgressions. Michael smiled despite himself and picked her up one
handed, Cleo settling against his chest and extending a paw to swat at
his face, butting her head against his cheek. "I missed you, too."
he said softly and got up from the chair, Cleo held awkwardly in one arm.
"Thank you for watching her for me." He leaned over to give Beatrice
a kiss on the cheek and she blushed in pleasure, pushing him away.
"You must come over for dinner." she said firmly.
"Tomorrow night." Michael promised with a grin and she swatted
at him.
"Go on with you--get some rest, you look terrible." She glowered
at him as he left the apartment and watched him go down the hall, shutting
the door once he had gone out of sight.
It took a little juggling and complaints from Cleo, accentuated by a digging
in of claws, but he got the door for his apartment open and stood for a
long moment in the doorway, just looking around, trying to see if anything
was different, changed. Cleo wriggled in his arms and he let her go, she
walked across the carpet, tail up, and leaped up onto the red plaid chair
that had been Simone's, settling down and promptly going to sleep.
"Home sweet home." he murmured with a sigh and went to find an
empty box and tools, spending the next two hours methodically removing
the two cameras he knew of--one in the bedroom and the other in the kitchen--and
finding another in the living room by sheer luck, tossed them in the box
and then took the box down to throw it in the dumpster. He had always known
the cameras were there but given that he spent so little time here it hadn't
bothered him. Now...now he couldn't bear the thought of the Section scrutinizing
him, analyzing him.
He sank down onto the black leather couch with a sigh and put his feet
up on the coffee table, closing his eyes, feeling himself relaxing, fully
relaxing, for the first time in months, and within a few minutes he was
asleep on the couch. After a moment, Cleo got up from the chair and leaped
onto the couch, laying down beside him and settling once again into sleep.
End of Part 9
Go back to Chapter 8
Go back to Chapter 7
Go back to Chapter 6
Go back to Chapter 5
Go back to Chapter 4
Go back to Chapter 3
Go back to Chapter 2
Go back to Chapter 1
