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Way they parted so easily almost hurt. Like a piece of something vital was missing, things unsaid yet what would he say? They knew he cared, they knew he was sorry, what else there is, to ease their sorrow? Husband, brother and friend died. A brilliant mind flickered and gone out, leaving so much love behind, empty place no one can fill, nothing can patch up. He knew, because he felt that love, unplaced, unshared, unaimed, everyday.
The thing with that sort of love is, it hurts more than broken jaw, more than infected bleeding wound. He felt both so he could tell. So he waved his goodbyes, got into car and left this part of his life behind. No more lying, hiding. No more of it. Last quick look into rearview mirror. Sara, Linc and Surce in the distance. What were they? Where can he place their names. Friends? Colleagues? Partners in crime?
Scenery behind his car window changed, he is driving and driving, not stopping, not pausing until he reaches his destination. The obvious problem- he´s not really sure where that is.
He thinks of Pam briefly. About her eyes and shape of her nose. How she reminds him of his son and how he reminds her Cameron as well. Unnecessary torment. The only lasting reminder they long to see, yet it would be breaking them everyday. He can´t offer her safety or stability anyway, and she doesn´t deserve his chaos. When things settle, he´ll come, he´ll share and explain everything.
Just not now. He´s too unfocused for that kind of conversation. So he drives somewhere, where he knows his temporary state of mind can be manageable. Where his crazy wont be surprising nor frightening.
Then skycrapers appears and traffic thickens. It´s pouring, he can barely see anything, wipers unable to catch up. Pedestrians running to the closest shops, trying to protect themselves. Mass of water flooding the streets. Then he leaves city centre behind. New scenery, less tall buildings, less frequent traffic. More thudding of rain into his car roof. This doesn´t feel like new beggining to him, it´s more like dead end.
He stops then, turns the engine off and slams car door shut. The only thing he can think of is familiar door in front of him. Pebbles crunching under his feet as he walks toward the house. Fluffy grey cat sitting behind the window, watching him intently. For a second he´s lost at whose door it is, then it clicks. Decorated with tiny coppery leaves, filled with small glassy squares you can see through. Where else would he go.
He softly touches the painted wood and then rings a bell - but there´s no response. He´ll wait, he has all time in the world.
Soaked to the bone, hands trembling with coldness and exhaustion.
But no rain could wash soil beneath his fingernails, the same wet soil from his garden, where he was burying dead man´s body. When his mind wanders, and it does very often, scent of grass, mud and blood fills the air around him. Sometimes it´s sweat of inmates and dry dirt from Sona prison. Odour he got eventually used to.
But now, looking at that closed door, it´s strong aroma of chamomile tea, sitting on her desk, always cold when she finally got to it. Suble parfume, late night witty small talks across the room, when they both had mountains of papers to fill, long before the Fox river hunt even started.
He feels sick to his stomach at the memory how badly he treated her, shouting when things got out of hand. How far he had gone. That one time he almost forgot her name when he was high. He feels weight and coldness of silvery coin in his pocket.
Coin she gave him, treasure he kept. She was always keeping an eye on him. Alex owed Felicia everything at this point. He´s thinking about thin line between being loyal and delusional. But love may be blinding, he knows that.
What other reason smart woman like her would have, for stucking with him so long. Not keeping her distance after all that had happened. Damn, even Alex would not stick to himself. He was a mess, he knew that. He was not a good man, honorable man like she said. Her trust in him could not change the fact.
Alex had failed people he loved. Someone might say, it was not entirely his fault, but not him. So he couldn´t bare the idea of another person relying on him, even loving him, again. But this was Felicia. Definitely not someone relying on him. If anything - it was the opposite. He´s the one waiting here. He´s the one, asking her favors repeatedly. She´d leave and never look back, if she thought he´s too far gone. He had seen her doing that before. She was more than capable to burn the bridges. And that idea itself made his mind lighter. It had always been her decision, to help him. But a thought is gnawing in his brain.
Thought of him, taking advantage of her affection, over the years. Of course, Felicia would say "nonsense". But was it?
Unable to move from cold and rain, lost in his ruminations, he barely registered someone talking to him. "Alex? Alex, what happened?", soft hand tugging him somewhere. Ringing of keys, door with tiny coppery leaves closed behind him.
When her arms pull him closer, he barely realises it. His hands wrapped around her. Alex finally loses it. Months he´s been away, and its struggles, are spilling all over Felicia´s beige carpet, leaving puddles, just like the water dripping from him. That closeness and warmness of her body makes his heart clench. What felt like a papercut minute ago is fatal bleeding injury now. He can´t stop it, but she can steady him. So he leans on her even more, trying to blank spaced his mind when he says,
"Michael´s dead". His voice raspy. "But Sara is safe".
"I am so sorry, Alex", Felicia tightens her embrace even more, so whole Alexander Mahone wont break into fragments she would be looking for weeks. Piece of Alex under the cupboard, behind the fridge. Hidden in the cat´s bed. She would never ever get rid of him again. He doesn´t know how long it takes, but eventually she leaves and comes back with dry clothes. "Those are some of my brother´s. They might not fit so well, but at least you´ll be warm. I´ll be downstairs."
"Thank you". He mumbles quietly. He´s left with pile of it in the bathroom, confused. If he´s gonna hold it minute longer, it´ll be soaked as well. Mirror shows him his face, something he has no reason to look at. Alex turns his gaze away quickly, finally deciding for oversized green hoodie and too short sweatpants.
"Nice pants", Felicia amusingly comments on his taste.
"Never told me your brother is a dwarf." Returning small joke is something he can handle. She put two cups of chamomile tea on the table. Steam escaping the mugs. He wants to hold it so bad, to keep his hands busy, but he only joins her on the sofa, burying himself into cushions.
"How long were you outthere? Your lips were completely blue", She says, concerned.
"I don´t know", he reaches for the tea anyway, so he doesn´t have to look at her.
"I am sorry for Michael, Alex, I truly am. I know you cared for him" She pauses.
"Also, I know it´s bad timing and I hate to tell you now, but...I thought you would want to know. They decided, the bureau." She doesn´t finish the sentence, but there´s no neccesity to do so.
"They don´t want me." He states placidly.
"No. There´s too much bad blood between you and them".
"It´s actually other people´s blood. And I deserve to be under the ground with them." He looks up, swiftly, not letting her interrupt. "You´re the only reason I am not". He takes out silvery coin to show her. "And I thank you for that, Felicia. For everything you´ve done for me. I owe you".
"I´m glad you got better. And you owe me nothing." She sits silently, waiting for him to carry on the conversation. But he remains quiet as well, looking at his burns from boiling mug. Felicia squeezes his forearm "I think you´ve got quite of story to tell", she smiles sadly at him. Little stars in her eyes there, always there, unwavering. He´s losing himself in there. "I would like to hear it."
And he would like to tell.
"The thing is, I...I do, actually, owe you".
There are family pictures hanging on the wall, smilling people he could only guess who they are. Books on the shelves, glass vase full of flowers, happy cat. Beautiful place to live. Cozy home. Distress seeping into his voice. "I am not a good person and I don´t know why, I-I mean I´m grateful, obviously, but I don´t know why you´ve done so much", confused, looking for answers again, in those dark calm eyes. Everytime their path had crossed in those past months, he had brought nothing but heartache and chaos into her life, leaving her bit by bit more uncertain about his common sense.
"I know what you´ve done, Alex. I am not stupid. But I also know who you are, who you were and why you did it." She pauses. "And you needed someone in your corner. You´ve been there, in mine, for all those years." She turns to face him directly. "You might not see it that way, but you´ve always been hard on yourself. And most of the time, kind to me".
"I seriously doubt I´ve ever been supportive." He whispers. "If I could go back, I would kill people again, Felicia. Only different ones. Without regrets."
Why is he trying to push away the only person who has left? Why is he convincing her, she´s doing mistake to even letting him pass the threshold.
"Yea, considering you´ve murdered one serial killer and ended up like an addict I wouldn´t say 'no regrets' , she takes a sip of her tea.
When he opens his mouth, she cuts him off "I don´t care." Her face grows serious, her features hardens. "I am only gonna say it once, Alex, so just listen. I still think you are a good man, no matter how many times you tell me otherwise. I want you to stay here, with me, for as long as you need. You’re welcome here.” Her tone is firm, leaving no room for argument.
There was a time limit on his self-pity, and it had expired.
Then she softens a bit, reaching for his hand again. "I mean it, Alexander". He´s watching their fingers entwine, his calloused and cold, her soft and warm and suddenly he´s feeling exhausted. He doesn´t want to reject her proposal. Nowhere to go, nothing to do. Strange sensation sits in his stomach. The words she´s saying are like an incantantion.
Luring him into land of soft cushions, where he can rest his head. He´s letting her chant her spells, dazing him with chamomile potion. She knows the worst of him, the lowest, most pathetic and yet she´s not rejecting him - she´s offering her affection and trust again. Alex had been through rough times lately, but it hadn’t been easy on her either.
There´s a rare strenght inside of Felicia Lang and certainty about what she wants. "You´re too kind to me. I don´t deserve you".
She gently touches his forehead. "You are burning". Alex cups Felicia´s face with his hands. Lines of her new wrinkles, lines of the old ones, lines he caused, beautiful nevertheless. Just a soft brush of their lips and then he pulls away to see autumny brown irises, shinning its way into his own, grayish ones. Lighting him, melting him. He leans on her and kisses her, pulling her body closer, heart beating fast inside her chest, just like his. Could he do that. Could he stay?
"I really think you shoud lie down and rest", Felicia says quietly, pulling away and reaching for thick blaket instead. "Leave it for later, Alex". Soon as his head hits the pillow he´s out. In the land of fluffy cats and fine pillows. In the land, where her hands can grasp him tightly, before he can stand up on his own, and fix things.
One day, soon, he would have to face what he had done. He would need a skilled hand to patch up his wounds, maybe even to hold him still so he wouldn’t run away from wounds he had caused. But Felicia Lang deserves anything less.
And he wanted to be there for her, repaying her trust and love the best way he could.