"Forgiveness", for msgenevieve
Title: Forgiveness
Author: To be revealed
Rating: G
Category: Friendship
Characters: Michael Scofield and Henry Pope
Requested by: msgenevieve
Summary: Michael and Henry and their first meeting after the Fox River escape, set after 'the dust has settled' re the Company. I'd like a happy M/S undertone to the story but other than that, I just want to see these two men try to find some common ground after everything that's happened.
Author's Notes: Three elements / themes / lines were asked for: Revisiting the past before you can move into the future, traveling over the water and the line, "I thought you would have known me better than that by now."
Forgiveness
He feels the rush that usually comes from when he was on the run: increased heartbeat, shallow breathing, his body on high alert - more awake somehow. But this time there's no fear accompanied with it, rather, a feeling of trepidation.
The last time he was here, he watched Henry from a car, hoping that he won't give them up before they found what was inside a cigar box. He thought Henry was going to come at him with his bare hands the day when he appeared from behind Sara on his porch. The man was shaking with anger.
Michael rests his hand on the door handle for a moment when he realizes that this is also the place where he first told Sara that he loved her. Right here at this door he said me too. It feels like a lifetime ago.
The receptionist points him towards the bar when he announces himself and before he even enters the archway he'd already scanned for all the possible exits - the obvious and the not so obvious ones. He can't stop himself. Every place he goes, every new situation he encounters, he quickly scans the people in the room, assessing the danger and looking for exits.
When they boarded the plane from Panama the thought struck him that they would be traveling over the water and if they got cornered there'd be no escape, it was only Sara's soft, strong hand holding onto him that allowed him to continue with the journey.
His eyes find the man sitting in the corner at the back of the room and for a moment he falters. There's no escape if he sits there. He is not comfortable with that at all. Henry Pope has aged visibly in the past few months. There is something missing in his posture, that old confidence, and Michael feels another stab of guilt. It's his fault that this man looks like he does. Pulling at the sleeves of his sweater he wonders once more why Henry wanted to meet with him.
"Henry?" he asks as he comes to stand in front of the man. The older man lifts himself out of the chair with his hand outstretched. "Michael," is all he says as he shakes it and sits down motioning to the seat in front of him. Michael realizes that this is worse than he first thought. He's going to have to sit with his back to the room, the entrance. But it's the least he can do after what he's done to Henry.
The waiter arrives and Michael orders a scotch. Henry shakes his head indicating that he won't have another one.
They sit in silence while they wait for Michael's drink to arrive. And suddenly he wishes that he didn't leave Sara back in the hotel room, that he accepted her offer of coming with. With her here he's sure he would have felt calmer somehow.
Michael's drink is placed before him on a round white paper doily and after he took a sip he looks at the man opposite him. "So," they both say together, and then they laugh at the same time. Michael nods his head at Henry indicating for him to talk.
"I was going to ask how Sara's doing?" The question surprises him little because he assumed that Henry called him here to give him a piece of his mind. Does Henry really care or is he just making small talk?
"She's doing as well as can be expected. After what I've done to her…" he leaves the sentence hanging, throwing Henry the line and Henry takes the bait.
"Not just her." When Michael doesn't respond, Henry continues. "You know when you did what you did… I've played over and over in my mind what I would say to you if I'd ever see you again. I thought of all the names I could call you, listing all the people you've caused pain."
Michael feels his heart sink, the guilt that has become a companion, now flares up again. He feels it running through his veins every day. When he wakes at night with the faces of those he hurt, those whose death he caused, he can but turn to Sara, her arms, her body. Only she can drive the faces away, for awhile at least.
Michael looks up at the Pope when he continues. "Yes Michael, I thought of all these things, but when you walked through the door today, I saw a different man. You are not the arrogant young man who walked into my prison. I see remorse, guilt, and every other agonizing painful feeling that has a word etched onto your face. I can't call you any of the names I thought up, because you already call yourself so much worse."
The Pope goes quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again.
"Henry…" But he doesn't give Michael a chance.
"No Michael. Let me speak. I need to say this so we can move on. I have thought a lot about our conversation, the one about the black Taj and the emperor and how history repeats itself."
Michael stills while the words sink in. The emperor's son betrayed him. His son. He looks at Henry questioningly and he sees a truth in his eyes.
He tries again: "Henry."
But Henry just waves him off dismissively. "Let me finish please. You owe me at least that."
Michael takes a deep breath and nods.
"When you betrayed me I think I almost went over to the dark side," he says with a little smile. But then he frowns again immediately. "You betrayed me Michael. My trust."
Michael sees the pain. No he feels Henry's pain gutting him.
"The day you walked back into my life and pointed that gun at me was a revelation. When I came to this bar and I found what you said I would, I knew you were telling the truth. Despite everything, despite myself I felt admiration for you. I would never have done what you did. Never. Sacrifice everything? No. I'm a coward at heart."
"Please Henry this is enough. What I did to you was unforgivable I used you every step of the way. You were part of my plan and I am sorry about that."
Henry's reply is a simple one. "I forgive you."
The sentence stuns him. Three words he never expected to hear from anyone, let alone The Pope.
"You can't do that. What I did was unforgivable."
"I thought you'd have known me better by now, I can do whatever I want."
For a moment they stare at each other across the small table, both of them tense, someone on the other side of the room laughs loudly and the two men lean back in unison, suddenly relaxed, the air cleared. A comfortable silence forms. They quietly sip their drinks, like old friends. The Pope accepts a cigar when it's offered and Michael inhales the wooden scent that comes form it. It feels comforting.
-The End-
Author: To be revealed
Rating: G
Category: Friendship
Characters: Michael Scofield and Henry Pope
Requested by: msgenevieve
Summary: Michael and Henry and their first meeting after the Fox River escape, set after 'the dust has settled' re the Company. I'd like a happy M/S undertone to the story but other than that, I just want to see these two men try to find some common ground after everything that's happened.
Author's Notes: Three elements / themes / lines were asked for: Revisiting the past before you can move into the future, traveling over the water and the line, "I thought you would have known me better than that by now."
Forgiveness
He feels the rush that usually comes from when he was on the run: increased heartbeat, shallow breathing, his body on high alert - more awake somehow. But this time there's no fear accompanied with it, rather, a feeling of trepidation.
The last time he was here, he watched Henry from a car, hoping that he won't give them up before they found what was inside a cigar box. He thought Henry was going to come at him with his bare hands the day when he appeared from behind Sara on his porch. The man was shaking with anger.
Michael rests his hand on the door handle for a moment when he realizes that this is also the place where he first told Sara that he loved her. Right here at this door he said me too. It feels like a lifetime ago.
The receptionist points him towards the bar when he announces himself and before he even enters the archway he'd already scanned for all the possible exits - the obvious and the not so obvious ones. He can't stop himself. Every place he goes, every new situation he encounters, he quickly scans the people in the room, assessing the danger and looking for exits.
When they boarded the plane from Panama the thought struck him that they would be traveling over the water and if they got cornered there'd be no escape, it was only Sara's soft, strong hand holding onto him that allowed him to continue with the journey.
His eyes find the man sitting in the corner at the back of the room and for a moment he falters. There's no escape if he sits there. He is not comfortable with that at all. Henry Pope has aged visibly in the past few months. There is something missing in his posture, that old confidence, and Michael feels another stab of guilt. It's his fault that this man looks like he does. Pulling at the sleeves of his sweater he wonders once more why Henry wanted to meet with him.
"Henry?" he asks as he comes to stand in front of the man. The older man lifts himself out of the chair with his hand outstretched. "Michael," is all he says as he shakes it and sits down motioning to the seat in front of him. Michael realizes that this is worse than he first thought. He's going to have to sit with his back to the room, the entrance. But it's the least he can do after what he's done to Henry.
The waiter arrives and Michael orders a scotch. Henry shakes his head indicating that he won't have another one.
They sit in silence while they wait for Michael's drink to arrive. And suddenly he wishes that he didn't leave Sara back in the hotel room, that he accepted her offer of coming with. With her here he's sure he would have felt calmer somehow.
Michael's drink is placed before him on a round white paper doily and after he took a sip he looks at the man opposite him. "So," they both say together, and then they laugh at the same time. Michael nods his head at Henry indicating for him to talk.
"I was going to ask how Sara's doing?" The question surprises him little because he assumed that Henry called him here to give him a piece of his mind. Does Henry really care or is he just making small talk?
"She's doing as well as can be expected. After what I've done to her…" he leaves the sentence hanging, throwing Henry the line and Henry takes the bait.
"Not just her." When Michael doesn't respond, Henry continues. "You know when you did what you did… I've played over and over in my mind what I would say to you if I'd ever see you again. I thought of all the names I could call you, listing all the people you've caused pain."
Michael feels his heart sink, the guilt that has become a companion, now flares up again. He feels it running through his veins every day. When he wakes at night with the faces of those he hurt, those whose death he caused, he can but turn to Sara, her arms, her body. Only she can drive the faces away, for awhile at least.
Michael looks up at the Pope when he continues. "Yes Michael, I thought of all these things, but when you walked through the door today, I saw a different man. You are not the arrogant young man who walked into my prison. I see remorse, guilt, and every other agonizing painful feeling that has a word etched onto your face. I can't call you any of the names I thought up, because you already call yourself so much worse."
The Pope goes quiet for a moment. He opens his mouth to say something but closes it again.
"Henry…" But he doesn't give Michael a chance.
"No Michael. Let me speak. I need to say this so we can move on. I have thought a lot about our conversation, the one about the black Taj and the emperor and how history repeats itself."
Michael stills while the words sink in. The emperor's son betrayed him. His son. He looks at Henry questioningly and he sees a truth in his eyes.
He tries again: "Henry."
But Henry just waves him off dismissively. "Let me finish please. You owe me at least that."
Michael takes a deep breath and nods.
"When you betrayed me I think I almost went over to the dark side," he says with a little smile. But then he frowns again immediately. "You betrayed me Michael. My trust."
Michael sees the pain. No he feels Henry's pain gutting him.
"The day you walked back into my life and pointed that gun at me was a revelation. When I came to this bar and I found what you said I would, I knew you were telling the truth. Despite everything, despite myself I felt admiration for you. I would never have done what you did. Never. Sacrifice everything? No. I'm a coward at heart."
"Please Henry this is enough. What I did to you was unforgivable I used you every step of the way. You were part of my plan and I am sorry about that."
Henry's reply is a simple one. "I forgive you."
The sentence stuns him. Three words he never expected to hear from anyone, let alone The Pope.
"You can't do that. What I did was unforgivable."
"I thought you'd have known me better by now, I can do whatever I want."
For a moment they stare at each other across the small table, both of them tense, someone on the other side of the room laughs loudly and the two men lean back in unison, suddenly relaxed, the air cleared. A comfortable silence forms. They quietly sip their drinks, like old friends. The Pope accepts a cigar when it's offered and Michael inhales the wooden scent that comes form it. It feels comforting.
-The End-