Thick as Thieves 2: Under Your Command

Chapter 17

Later that evening, Michael paid a visit to Boylan in the Infirmary. Doctor Shannon greeted him when he arrived and told him Tom had been awake, but a little confused and still very weak, so he may not respond much. It didn't matter. Michael would just be glad to see him.

The old man had his eyes closed when Michael approached him. He looked a little better than earlier, but still deeply unwell. Michael took a seat beside him, unsure what to do, what to say.

He settled on a simple greeting: "Hi Tom. How are you?"

"Mmm," Boylan responded. Michael wasn't sure if that was a response to his question or not. Michael decided to keep talking to him anyway.

"Will you promise me something, Tom? When you get better, you need to take better care of yourself, okay? Whatever it is, I'll help you. We'll go on a diet, we'll exercise - get you back in shape! If you're stressed, I don't know, we'll meditate or something." He chuckled at the thought of the both of them sitting down with their legs crossed and eyes shut, muttering 'namaste' under their breaths. He couldn't imagine Boylan going for that, but if that's what it took to keep him around, he'd make him do it. "Whatever it takes to keep you healthy." He swallowed back the lump forming in his throat. "I can't lose you as well, Tom. My family...I've lost them all. But you..." He wiped the moisture from his eyes. "You were always there for me. When my dad couldn't be. Or when he treated me like an outsider. You were there, when everyone else turned against me." He wiped the moisture from his eyes "You were more of a father to me than he'd been in a long, long time. I need you around. So just concentrate on getting better."

He squeezed Boylan's shoulder and lingered a moment longer before beginning to get to his feet.

Suddenly, Boylan's hand grabbed Michael's arm. Michael sat back down, stunned. He examined Boylan, who still seemed to be pretty out of it, eyes half closed as he turned his face to stare at Michael.

"Son?"

Boylan's grip was surprisingly strong. He pulled Michael closer. Michael leaned over him, placing his own hand over Boylan's.

"I'm sorry," Boylan wept, tears leaking from his blurry eyes. "I'm so sorry, son. It's my fault. It's all my fault."

"What?" Michael said.

"I should've made sure you had it," he blubbered. "That bloody mask. It was my job to keep you safe. I'm so...I'm sorry. Please. Please forgive me."

It didn't take long to realise what he was talking about. Michael remembered a conversation with Boylan, long ago, about how his son died. Michael knelt beside him, took his hand and squeezed. "It's okay," he whispered. "I forgive you."

Boylan, in his confused state, continued sobbing. "I miss you so much, Peter. My boy. I wish I'd been a better father."

Michael sniffed again, feeling Boylan's pain as if it were his own. "You were the best father," he said softly, squeezing his hand a little harder. He smiled. "The best."

Another tear slid from Boylan's drooping eyes, then he closed them fully. He was silent. Michael placed Boylan's hand back on the bed and bid a silent goodbye.

In Boylan's hand, he had placed a rusty old coin. Peter's coin. Boylan had once given it to him for good luck, now Michael was hoping that luck would help Boylan.

2150

The haze of the Chicago skyline was particularly thick tonight as Lucas stared out of EdenCorp's window at the domes in the hazy distance. He wondered where his father was, if he was even still alive. But the Commander was a stubborn creature. He wouldn't go down easy. Lucas was sure he was still out there, somewhere. Surviving.