Chapter Text
“Brianna. This is insane. You’re 18 for Christ’s sake! You just graduated high school! This doesn’t strike you as wrong in the slightest?”
“No. It really doesn’t.”
“Bri, he’s 39. That’s literally more than twice your age. He was graduating college the year you were born.”
“Look, I didn’t ask for your opinion. I don’t care if he’s 16 or 60 - it makes no difference to me.”
That’s how the conversation went when my friends found out about Michael for the first time.
That came out wrong. They didn't find out by accident, I told them. I decided it was finally time to tell them about Michael Westen, the burned spy who led a life of danger and destruction. And, perhaps more pressingly, the man I fell for.
Our meeting was a little bit complicated. To make a long story short, a family friend of ours needed help with a loan shark, and they had to spend a few nights at our place while Michael and his crew took care of the problem.
I saw Michael for the first time when he dropped off my friend Abigail at our house. "Abby? What are you doing here?" I questioned, not entirely confused because she often showed up unannounced. What I was confused about was the man standing behind her glaring daggers
into me.
"Hey, Bri. I'm not really sure how to say this, but uh, this is Michael Westen. He's helping my parents out. You know how Mom was trying to pay off that medical bill from when I had that liver transplant? Well, they hit kind of a snag with the money and we might be in a little bit of trouble. Nothing they can't handle, though! We just needed a place to stay for a while," she explained her situation briefly.
"Ah. Okay, well you can come upstairs and I'll set up the futon," I stutter out, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the silent man standing behind her, studying me with his eyes.
Somehow it was intimidating in the least threatening way possible. I felt vulnerable and exposed, like all of my secrets were out in the open. I felt like with this once glance, he knew everything about me, from my secret obsession with collecting scrunchies to my ACT score. But at the same time, I felt secure knowing that it was him who would be holding my secrets in his mind even though I had no idea who he was. I didn't have time to dissect my emotions more than that, though, because before I knew it, his hand was extended to meet mine. "Hi. I'm Michael. I'm here to make sure everyone here stays safe."
I reluctantly reached out to shake his hand, and as soon as our hands met, his eyes locked onto mine. He instantly froze me into place, blue meeting blue. I found myself biting my lower lip, thinking that I should pull my hand back, and that I needed to look away. But that calculating stare was impossible to break free from. His eyes flickered down to where my lip was between my teeth for the briefest moment, before moving back up to my own. "Hi, Michael. Nice to meet you. I'm Brianna," I tried to ease the tension by breaking in with my voice, but to no avail.
He finally diverted his gaze, deciding what I could only assume was that he had found out all he needed to know about me through observation. He released my hand slowly, letting his fingers graze mine until they were completely gone.
I left him behind in a dazed stupor to lead Abby upstairs, not left unnoticed by the girl in question. "Yeah, sorry about that. He's pretty intense. My parents told me he used to be a spy."
"It's okay. He seems like he'll be able to keep you safe," I manage to speak, still trying to snap out of it.
At the time, I remember feeling a coil in my stomach and a tension in my throat, but I was
unable to place a finger on what I was feeling. Instead, I shook it aside as I dug the futon out from under my bed and got sheets for Abby to borrow.
That night, as Abby was snoring softly on my floor, I was still unable to get that burning gaze out of my mind. I was tossing and turning underneath my covers, but every time I closed my eyes, all I could see were those sharp blue orbs staring a hole into my own. The coil in my stomach was curling tighter, and I was left more than a little conflicted as I continued to try falling asleep.
The next morning, I woke up at 7:30 as usual, feeling incredibly groggy from my poor night's sleep. I gently shook Abby awake to remind her that we still had to get ready for school, even if we were in the middle of a seemingly perpetual sleepover. Once we arrived at school, I was able to take my mind off of the strange events that had occured over the past 24 hours, and managed to sink back into a sliver of normalcy.
As the final bell rang dismissing us from school, I met up with Abby at our regular spot by the back exit. "Hey, we should probably hurry home. I'm not sure what your parents got wrapped up in, but I'm really not in the mood to get jumped, yeah?" I mentioned as I began to walk home at a brisk pace.
Abby nodded in agreement, and we started the short journey home, keeping eyes out for anything that seemed off. At first, all was well. But as soon as we got within a block of my house, something was wrong. I knew I felt eyes on me, but I couldn't tell where they were coming from. All I knew was that they were following my every movement. My first instinct was to break into a sprint and run the rest of the way home, but I knew that was a bad plan. That would tip off whoever was watching that I knew exactly what was going on. Who knows what might happen to us if that were the case. So I shoved that instinct down and kept walking as if nothing was wrong. I turned to Abby and gave her the most convincing smile I could, while whispering through my teeth, "There's someone watching. I don't know where they are, but I can feel it. Just keep calm and keep walking as if nothing is happening."
Her eyes widened for a second, and I could see the fear spread across her face. Before she could react any further, I grabbed her hand and squeeze hard. With the smile still on my face, I hissed, "Don't."
She took a deep breath, and continued walking. I glanced back at her now and again, and she looked incredibly tense, but nothing that would give us away completely. Eventually, we made it back home. Just as I was about to unlock the door, it swung open revealing a woman holding some kind of gun. "Hurry up and get inside," she jabbed as she grabbed my arm and tugged me through the door.
I complied and let myself be dragged inside, Abby only a couple of steps behind me. The door slammed shut as the woman turned to face us and placed her back against it. "Hi, girls. Sorry for the harsh introduction, but I'm Fiona. I'm friends with Michael, and I'm here to keep an eye on you until this blows over," she began. "Do you think anyone followed you home?"
I glanced at Abby, who still looked a bit too shaken up to speak. I looked back to Fiona and nodded. "I think so. I couldn't tell where they were, but something definitely felt wrong."
Fiona raised an eyebrow. "Okay. I'm glad you were able to get back without much trouble. I know this won't be easy, but I'm going to need you two to stay here for a few days and lay low. Think you can do that for me?"
I nodded once again. "Yeah, I think we can manage that."
Abby still wasn't speaking, but she slowly nodded her head in a sign of agreement. "Great. Glad we've got that settled," Fiona stated with a small smile.
Just as soon as we met Fiona, she was gone, strutting into the living room and mumbling something about how she had to help someone named Sam with some research.
I took a deep breath and tried to wrap my head around how my life had gone from completely normal to being on house arrest in under 24 hours. I found myself absentmindedly wandering into the kitchen, only to freeze in the doorway after seeing Michael there, nursing what appeared to be a container of blueberry yogurt. He was looking over documents that I could only assume had something to do with Abby's parents. His eyes were flickering over each page, and he looked incredibly drawn into whatever he was doing. I took a small step backwards, not wanting to interrupt his reading session, but before I could leave he looked up and locked my eyes with his once again. However, this time I was more prepared, and I managed to tear my eyes away quickly, not wanting that coil in my stomach to return. "Hi, Mr. Westen. Anything I can help with?"
"Yeah. Don't call me Mr. Westen. When I hear that, I look over my shoulder for my father," he responded as he went back to looking over papers.
"Okay, uh, Michael. Is there anything I can help you with?" I corrected myself as I walk further into the kitchen, moving behind the chair he was occupying to get to the refrigerator.
"No. Just stay home and be safe. That's really all I can ask of you right now."
I opened the bottom door of the refrigerator and bent down in search of a snack to take upstairs. I grabbed the first thing that looked appealing, and shut the door. I turned back around to leave, but stopped myself right in front of the door. I spun around, getting Michael's attention. "I just want to thank you for whatever you're doing to help my friend and her family. I know that I must just seem like a kid who doesn't really know what's going on, and that's probably true, but I want you to know I appreciate this a lot. I know my thanks probably doesn't mean much, but I feel like it's the only thing I can really do right now. So thank you."
And that was when Michael smiled at me for the first time.