I Used to Be a Spy

Introduction: My name is Michael Westen

"My name is Michael Westen, I used to be a spy."
"What's a spy, Uncle?"
Michael contemplated the extent he could explain all of this to his 8 year old nephew. Fiona said it was time he fill in gaps for Charlie, now that his young mind was asking questions.
Holding in his sigh, he hugged his nephew close. "Mac{son}, let's talk about the spy business later, but remember," he raised his finger to his lips, winking, and continued, "it's our secret."
Charlie smiled, wiggling with excitement.
"Dadaí, cathain a bheidh m' uncaailí anseo?"
Michael chuckled, "Remember, speak Béarla{English} when your Uncles Sam and Jesse arrive."
His nephew's Irish Gaelic was far more advanced than his own, matching Fi's.
A tear threatened to emerge on the rim of his eyes, thinking of the five years that passed since he'd seen his best friends, his teaghlach{family}."
"Come, Cathal-I mean, Charlie, let's go ride." Michael hoped the ride through the meadow would clear his head and his jitters.
Charlie popped up off the sofa and raced out to the horse barn, eager to saddle up their Irish Cob.
Michael resisted the urge to smile, allowing it to relax his face.
+++++

Cold. Heartless. Detached.
These were words his closest friends used to describe him five years ago. While offensive, it was the truth. It had hurt to hear that, but only minorly. He had buried the hurt with the rest of his feelings. Truth be told, he reveled in that skill of his, to be heartless and single-minded. His goal was to be the best spy, and he felt he had accomplished this. In all reality, it didn't matter who was calling the shots, as long as the outcome was the same: do good, take down the bad guys. Now he shuddered at his faulty reasoning of the past. It took dramatic circumstances for him to see the glaring truth, he had become the bad guy.
As he led their horse carefully along, Charlie giggled excitedly. "Remember to hold on," Michael ordered, trying to keep his mind on the present, though he trusted their horse to stay calm and give Charlie a smooth ride.
Why did Fi wish to resurrect the past? Muck up their clear and happy life? Michael planned on being honest with his son. How could he do so without dredging up old mistakes? Big mistakes? Was Michael worthy to be a father?
"Daidi?"
Michael looked up at his son, whose face showed concern. "What is it mac?"
"My other daidi... what was he like?"
Michael halted. More pain, more difficult explanations. Michael prayed he wouldn't mention Michael's own mother, Madeline as well. Michael's throat constricted. Clearing it some, he loosened the reins and put his arm around Charlie's back. "You're real daidí, my deartháir{brother}, was a hero."
Charlie smiled sympathetically and patted Michael on the head, which made them both chuckle. How an eight year old was so insightful, he didn't understand. But then again, Nate was always the tender hearted one out of the two throughout their lives, for which Michael was grateful for. Tender and caring, even sprinkled with much foolishness, was far better than cold and heartless. Those poor qualities took time to root out from his heart, to rid himself of his ego.
"Daidí?" Charlie asked, furrowing his brow.
"Yes, mac?" Michael went to the front of the horse and resumed leading the horse Paistí{Patches} along.
"Are we Irish, or American?" The boy's voice was full of curiosity. "Also, why does Cad want me to learn your secrets? Are they not secrets for a reason?"
Speechless, Michael rubbed the back of his neck. His boy was more than insightful, he was, words Michael couldn't think of. "You're auntie, or Cad, wants to have open communication with each other. While there are matters we want to keep private, there should be no secrets between eachus. But they are a secret to people who are not family." Michael hesitated, "Does that make sense?"
"Sort of," Charlie replied thoughtfully.
Michael grinned, knowing Charlie did not understand but was being polite. "Your mother only wants the best for you and for me, and so do I."
Confidently Charlie insisted, "I know that, Daidí."
Michael considered Charlie's other question. Charlie had been American. Until Nate lost his life and Michael obliterated the life his mother had created for Charlie and herself. Guilt clouded Michael, weighing heavily upon his shoulders and chest.
As if feeling the heavy weight and wanting to lift it from Michael, Charlie chimed in, "I know I'm Irish, and I'm glad."
Michael peered back and gave Charlie a kind smile, grateful for the son who changed his life.
It seemed like only yesterday that his burn notice was issued. He was put in a compromised and deadly scenario, hardly able to escape with his life. Thankfully he was used to difficult situations because of growing up with his abusive father.
When he got the phone call that he was burned, though, that was more painful than the beating to follow. More painful than waking up in his hometown, Miami, with no cash, no credit, no job history. His entire reputation, his mission in life, destroyed without so much as a warning or explanation.
When he was burned, his life was ripped from him. He wasted seven years trying to figure out who burned him and get back into the game, only to find out it was his very mentor who pulled the strings, and then attempted to end him for good.
Though now, 12 years later, Michael knew it was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He was reunited with the people most important to him. Fiona, the feisty and passionate love of his life. Sam, the buddy who was loyal to the bone, as long as you regularly supplied him with beer. Jesse, determined, hard working, and kind hearted. Madelyn... the mother he loved and missed with his entire being, how he took her for granted, and yet she never stopped trying to be close to him. Even to sacrifice her life to save him. Nathan, the kid brother who never stopped trying to prove he was as good as his "big bro" and lost his life in the process. These people worked hard to get close to him and it took seven years before he allowed them into his heart fully, before he almost lost himself.
A chill ran down Michael's spine to think of James and the crew he was caught up with before Fiona, Sam and Jesse literally plotted against Michael to save him from a depraved life. One where he took out bad guys but under no authority. He shook his head and brought the horse to the barn, a wave of thankfulness washing through him.