Chapter Text
Mike laid on his back on top of his bedsheets in his darkened room at Graceland thinking that if he didn’t move, maybe he could pause the world and let himself breathe for just a few minutes; if he didn’t try to make a difference: solve an unsolvable case or take down the baddest of the bad cartels, nothing else could go wrong, but something always kept going wrong and it was always his fault.
A part of him, deep in his gut, just wanted to scream, but the risk of waking up the whole house and literally pissing off everyone didn’t seem worth it. He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in his pillow and screamed anyway, but at least the sound was mostly muffled. His brain was less fuzzy, less full of cotton; he had released something primal and he felt better except for —
Your word is shit.
That was what Paige said to him. It was what she thought of him. Those words were like poison in his brain, flooding his senses, and making him believe that nothing he did would ever be enough to fix them. That wasn’t even what he wanted anymore because it was an impossible thing to hope for.
Those words hurt though. “ She doesn’t mean it ,” he tried to tell himself, but it sounded hollow even in his head. “Maybe she’s right,” Mike mumbled out loud. He had convinced himself that he was doing the right thing, that if he kept working the case all the pieces would eventually fit, but every move forward ended up taking him five steps back.
They were fractured irreparably and Mike knew that. He had watched as they shriveled and died, but he was incapable of stopping it or changing it. He’d never be hers again. She’d never be his. They burned too hot and all that was left was dust and ash. He only wished they could find some semblance of normal again, a rebirth from the flames into something just enough, something that wasn’t this.
‘I’m sorry’ didn’t mean anything anymore because she had shut him out. His words, his thoughts, his ideas weren’t good enough and she couldn’t hear them, wouldn’t listen to him.
Mike’s brain was a constant loop of self-deprecating affirmations about how he wasn’t good enough and couldn’t figure out the problem, which obviously meant that the problem was him. He wanted to scream again, trash his room, throw something, but he shouldn’t. He had pushed his luck the first time and it was only by chance that no one came banging down his door. He was agitated and he got up to pace because he couldn’t sleep.
Your word is shit.
He had thought they were happy, that despite the lives they lead and the tragedy all around them, that they had each other and would be okay, but it turns out that wasn’t actually real. He remembered seeing her sing karaoke the first time they met and letting her tackle him while playing football on the beach. The way she smiled at him always made his heart soft and his stomach flip flop. Mike had loved her so deeply with every inch of himself and until that day, he had thought she loved him too or even just cared about him and thought of him as a friend, but all that was left of those memories was ruins.
It was Paige who had set Mike up with his first girlfriend in California, Abby Sinclair. He was new in town and freshly out of the FBI academy, learning the ropes of his new job and his life as an undercover agent; it was hard. He hadn’t been looking to meet anyone, but Paige had found Abby at the bar and played matchmaker.
Abby was perfect, but it was the wrong time and bad circumstances. He hadn’t learned how to live with his lies, or how to make her understand that the lies were his job and they weren’t him. When she was gone, he never really expected to find someone that fit him like Abby did and who made him feel everything more vividly… until Paige.
But apparently, it wasn’t just Mike’s secret life that destroyed his relationships, it was his priorities, his decision-making, it was him… and it was all just shit.
A quiet knock on his door left Mike groaning. “Fuck,” he cursed. He woke someone up.
“Mike, I know you’re in there, dawg. I can literally hear you,” came the voice through the door. Of course, it was Johnny. These walls were thin and he was right next door. “You okay in there,” Johnny asked as Mike swung the door open.
“I’m sorry,” Mike mumbled as he moved out of the doorway to let Johnny in. “I didn’t mean to make so much noise.”
“I was worried, man. I didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” his friend admitted, clapping a hand on his shoulder.
Mike stretched his mouth into a halfhearted smile. “It’s been a rough week,” he said with a sigh.
Johnny nodded, “Yeah, man, that human trafficking ring was really intense.”
The blonde agent chuckled darkly, “Yeah. I wish that's all I was worried about."
“Oh, this is about Paige,” the darker-skinned man realized. “You guys fighting?”
“...We broke up actually,” Mike sighed and ran a hand through his hair instinctually.
Johnny’s jaw dropped. “But you literally saved her life. She could have died in there.”
“That’s what I said, but apparently she wasn’t looking to get rescued,” he told his friend. Mike had thought he could go in there and be the white knight in shining armor and save the princess, but Paige hated that idea. Even though, she was a damsel in distress, it seemed like she wanted to stay that way.
“That seems stupid, no offense to Paige.” He shook his head, confused.
“Well, she only wanted to be saved if we shut down the ring, got everybody out…and she’s mad because I wasn’t prepared to do that yet,” Mike explained in more detail. It made sense, but it still felt shitty.
“Oh,” Johnny murmured, letting out a long breath. “That sucks, really, but you’re gonna figure this out and you know, I’ve got your back so hit me up and please, Mike, try to get some sleep.”
He nodded and did a low five with his friend, who left him alone again to ponder his thoughts with the ghost of Paige at his shoulder repeating her words and leaving him with self doubts.
Your word is shit.