Fic: Everything (The Following, Mike/Debra)
Title: Everything
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: The Following
Pairing: Mike Weston/Debra Parker
Rating : PG
Spoilers: AU for the season finale.
Disclaimer: The Following and it's characters are the property of Fox and no copyright infringement is intended.
Word Count: 747
Summary: In the wake of some unsettling news, Mike and Debra find comfort in each other.
Debra hurries into her apartment, locks the door behind her and makes sure the deadbolt is drawn for good measure. Mike's already home, she knows that because she saw his car on the street outside and she calls his name, sighing as she notices a suspicious fist sized dent in the drywall near the phone. "In here," he answers and she makes her way to the kitchen, almost managing a smile when she sees him there. He can usually make her smile, but not today, especially not when she sees him sitting at the table with a bag of frozen peas on his hand.
Shaking her head, she sits down beside him, moving the bag to see his knuckles already turning a mottled shade of red and purple. "You should get that checked out," is all she says to him as she replaces the bag, reaching out to enfold his other hand in both of hers.
"You heard." He ignores her recommendation completely, blue eyes meeting hers and she nods slowly. "Son of a bitch..."
Debra can't disagree with his assessment. "Do you really think it's him?" she asks, hoping against hope, but Mike's snort shows her what he thinks of that.
"Of course it's him," he mutters. "Who else can write that shitty?" The word surprises a laugh out of her, out of him too and despite everything, they smile at one another, still holding hands.
"They'll get him," she says quietly and if he notices that she said they and not we, then he doesn't comment on that either.
"How can you be so calm?" Mike demands. "We thought he was dead. He should be dead. After everything he did..." His voice breaks, either in anger or with tears, Debra can't be sure and she squeezes his hand. If she's honest, she's always been secretly afraid of this day, ever since the day she walked out of a Maryland hospital to be told that Joe Carroll was dead but had only been identified through DNA and dental records. She knew all too well how easily they could be faked, knew all too well the lengths Joe's followers would go to for him, but she'd just put the thought to the back of her mind, told herself that she was being paranoid, that she was being crazy.
One manuscript uploaded this morning, sent to every major newspaper, was all it had taken to prove her right, have her worst fears confirmed.
"I'm actually terrified," she admits to Mike now, swallowing hard and those three words are all Mike needs to hear. She's barely finished speaking before the bag of peas is sliding across the table, before his arms are sliding around her neck and he's holding her close. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath as she buries her face in the crook of his neck and allows the familiar scent of him to comfort her.
"He is not going to hurt you, Deb, you hear me?" Mike's voice is fierce. "I am not letting you out of my sight."
Debra chuckles against his shoulder. "Ditto."
Just then, there's a pounding on the door that makes them both jump and then freeze. Mike's hand reaches to his waist, where he usually keeps his gun and Debra lifts an eyebrow. "I don't think they'd knock that loud," she points out, but she pulls her own gun anyway as Mike stands and finds his and they walk to the door together, Debra going towards the peephole, Mike standing back, gun drawn.
One looks has Debra dropping her gun, signaling Mike to drop his too. "Turner," she says and he visibly relaxes as she lets the marshal in. He greets them by name, shakes Mike's hand, hugs Debra and says simply, "Hell of a thing," before asking them if they've packed their bags.
Turner assures them that the apartment is surrounded so they take a few minutes, throwing the essentials into a suitcase, grabbing some small sentimental pieces as well. As they ready to leave, Debra takes a look around, shakes her head. "It was just starting to feel like a home," she says quietly, and Mike slings an arm around her neck, pulls her close.
"We'll be back," he promises. "Besides... at least we're still together. That's something, right?"
Debra looks up at him, shakes her head. "No," she tells him, rising up on her toes to kiss him as he blinks, surprised, at her. "That's everything."
Author: helsinkibaby
Fandom: The Following
Pairing: Mike Weston/Debra Parker
Rating : PG
Spoilers: AU for the season finale.
Disclaimer: The Following and it's characters are the property of Fox and no copyright infringement is intended.
Word Count: 747
Summary: In the wake of some unsettling news, Mike and Debra find comfort in each other.
Debra hurries into her apartment, locks the door behind her and makes sure the deadbolt is drawn for good measure. Mike's already home, she knows that because she saw his car on the street outside and she calls his name, sighing as she notices a suspicious fist sized dent in the drywall near the phone. "In here," he answers and she makes her way to the kitchen, almost managing a smile when she sees him there. He can usually make her smile, but not today, especially not when she sees him sitting at the table with a bag of frozen peas on his hand.
Shaking her head, she sits down beside him, moving the bag to see his knuckles already turning a mottled shade of red and purple. "You should get that checked out," is all she says to him as she replaces the bag, reaching out to enfold his other hand in both of hers.
"You heard." He ignores her recommendation completely, blue eyes meeting hers and she nods slowly. "Son of a bitch..."
Debra can't disagree with his assessment. "Do you really think it's him?" she asks, hoping against hope, but Mike's snort shows her what he thinks of that.
"Of course it's him," he mutters. "Who else can write that shitty?" The word surprises a laugh out of her, out of him too and despite everything, they smile at one another, still holding hands.
"They'll get him," she says quietly and if he notices that she said they and not we, then he doesn't comment on that either.
"How can you be so calm?" Mike demands. "We thought he was dead. He should be dead. After everything he did..." His voice breaks, either in anger or with tears, Debra can't be sure and she squeezes his hand. If she's honest, she's always been secretly afraid of this day, ever since the day she walked out of a Maryland hospital to be told that Joe Carroll was dead but had only been identified through DNA and dental records. She knew all too well how easily they could be faked, knew all too well the lengths Joe's followers would go to for him, but she'd just put the thought to the back of her mind, told herself that she was being paranoid, that she was being crazy.
One manuscript uploaded this morning, sent to every major newspaper, was all it had taken to prove her right, have her worst fears confirmed.
"I'm actually terrified," she admits to Mike now, swallowing hard and those three words are all Mike needs to hear. She's barely finished speaking before the bag of peas is sliding across the table, before his arms are sliding around her neck and he's holding her close. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath as she buries her face in the crook of his neck and allows the familiar scent of him to comfort her.
"He is not going to hurt you, Deb, you hear me?" Mike's voice is fierce. "I am not letting you out of my sight."
Debra chuckles against his shoulder. "Ditto."
Just then, there's a pounding on the door that makes them both jump and then freeze. Mike's hand reaches to his waist, where he usually keeps his gun and Debra lifts an eyebrow. "I don't think they'd knock that loud," she points out, but she pulls her own gun anyway as Mike stands and finds his and they walk to the door together, Debra going towards the peephole, Mike standing back, gun drawn.
One looks has Debra dropping her gun, signaling Mike to drop his too. "Turner," she says and he visibly relaxes as she lets the marshal in. He greets them by name, shakes Mike's hand, hugs Debra and says simply, "Hell of a thing," before asking them if they've packed their bags.
Turner assures them that the apartment is surrounded so they take a few minutes, throwing the essentials into a suitcase, grabbing some small sentimental pieces as well. As they ready to leave, Debra takes a look around, shakes her head. "It was just starting to feel like a home," she says quietly, and Mike slings an arm around her neck, pulls her close.
"We'll be back," he promises. "Besides... at least we're still together. That's something, right?"
Debra looks up at him, shakes her head. "No," she tells him, rising up on her toes to kiss him as he blinks, surprised, at her. "That's everything."