Chapter Text
Mike fucked up.
Sure, he was quick thinking and smart with a gun but sometimes he was just out of his depth. Honestly, there hadn’t been enough intel on the case and it probably would have been safer to scope it out for at least another week but they were short on time and the bureau was pressuring them to just hurry up and nab the baddie.
Long story short, they didn’t.
Richard Duvall was now on the run, probably halfway around the world at this point, with half a million dollars unaccounted for and two dead bodies left in his wake, all because Mike said the wrong thing.
Now Mike was wallowing in the corner, curled up on the edge of the sofa, too aware of the tense silence that filled the room, wincing every time Briggs set his bottle down a bit too forcefully onto the countertop. The rest of the team was conversing the the kitchen while Mike sat by himself in the living room but the raised voices were audible throughout the rest of the house.
A feeling of dread washed over him as footsteps drew near and Charlie stood in front of him, not saying anything. She regarded him for a moment, taking in his huddled form curled up in a sweater, before squatting next to him.
“Mike... You may have noticed Briggs is a little upset -” glass shattered and Mike flinched. “but just know that whatever he says isn’t necessarily a reflection of what everyone else thinks because -” she pauses. “Well, let’s just say that Briggs can overreact and sometimes he’s just a dick.”
Charlie pats his knee and leaves to join the others in the kitchen.
Mike’s mind runs the scenarios over and over, thoughts moving quickly and stumbling over each other. Things he could’ve said, things he should have noticed, better reaction time, less stupidity, jesus what a fuck up, fucking idiot -
His thoughts are interrupted as Briggs slams his way into the room. He has murder in his eyes and beer in his hand.
Mike struggles to sit up straighter on the couch, tucking his hands into his sleeves to try and hide the tremors. “Briggs, I -”
“Shut up.”
The others have quietly filed into the room behind him, looking anxiously between the two. From the arguing earlier it seems like Johnny and Paige were trying to defend him from Briggs’ wrath, but now everyone looks sort of...passive, except for Briggs, who looks like he’s about to spit nails.
Briggs stalks closer and Mike inadvertently shrinks back into the cushions. Briggs’ jaw is clenching and unclenching as he approaches, before he stops himself just a few feet away.
“Mike,” he bites out, voice tight. “Would you care to explain what happened earlier?”
Mike swallows nervously, rising from the couch to stand in front of Briggs. “I just thought if I -”
“No, Mike. No. You didn’t think, you just blabbed and crossed your fingers and figured that your dumb luck would keep you out of trouble. And, as I’m sure you know, it didn’t, and you fucked up, big time. Isn’t that right? Hmm?”
Mike didn’t respond.
Briggs laughed, no humor in his tone. “That’s right, nothing to say for yourself.”
“Briggs -” Jakes tried to cut in.
He sharply turned and gave him a venomous look that had him step back.
“Seriously kid. I swear to god if you do that again I’m going to fucking kill you!” Briggs shouts, whirling back around to face the kid, beer bottle raised high, poised as if to strike.
Instinct got to the best of him. He heard the raised voice, and the anger, and saw the flash of light off the bottle and the man coming at him. And he cowered.
Not a flinch, not a cringe, but an actual duck and cover, arms around the head, eyes shut tight and breathing ragged and panicked. The room was silent save for Mike’s rapid pants, and when he realized that Briggs wasn’t actually going to hit him, jesus, his breathing slowed and he uncurled a bit, hands shaking, body thrumming with adrenaline.
“You don’t think I would actually...” His voice was subdued, and he took two steps closer to Mike, reaching out to touch his shoulder and stopping as Mike frantically took two steps back without thinking.
“Shit, kid,” Johnny breathed out. Mike’s breathing hitched and he hid his face in his shaking hands.
Briggs stood still in front of him, seemingly stuck in appalled shock, anger completely dissolved, until Jakes and Charlie pulled him out of the room into some other section of the house.
“C’mon, let’s sit down, huh? Can we do that?” Paige cautiously took a step forward, watching as Mike shied away but didn’t actually step back. She approached him as if he were a skittish animal, hands open and placed in front of her. His eyes flickered between her shoes and the floor between them, fingers clutching nervously at the sleeves of his sweater.
She gently placed a hand on his shoulder and couldn’t help but feel guilty as he flinched and tensed, guiding him back to the couch. He immediately brought his legs up and dropped onto his side, curling into a ball and tucking his arms against his belly. He eyeline remained below knee-level.
She crouched beside him and murmured nonsensical phrases to him, gently stroking his side and shifting as she felt Johnny come crouch beside her to do the same. Soon his breathing calmed and the shakes that preciously wracked his frame ceased as they continued to speak to him in soft voices, watching as the adrenaline left his system and his eyes shut in exhaustion.
Lauren watched from the corner of the room, not saying a word.