Chapter Text
“You know Connor invited you here as a guest.” Mike shot him a look. He didn’t have to ask what he meant. Ben elaborated anyway. “You can turn off the hyper-vigilance. I doubt terrorists are going to swoop in and attack a bunch of university students.”
It had been 18 months since they had seen each other properly, though they had kept in touch. They picked up pretty much where they left off - ribbing one another and getting under each other’s skin in that way friends are wont to do.
“I don’t recall ever telling you how to do your job, Mr President, and before you say, yes, I realise the protection of the Ashers is no longer my responsibility. Old habits is all…”
They were sitting in a box overlooking the stage, watching the procession of professors, making their way to take up their positions.
“That’s not how I remember it.”
“Selective memory? Must be getting old, Ben. Might need to get that seen to sooner rather than later.”
Ben smiled, spotting Connor in the entourage taking their seats below.
“Proud Dad moment incoming…” Mike muttered.
“You should be proud too. You were a great influence on him.” He turned his head and gave Mike a soft smile. “Don’t think I ever thanked you for that.”
Mike shrugged and cast his eyes down to his hands folded in front of him. “It was a privilege.”
The ceremony went off without a hitch. Mike and Ben watched while Connor’s girlfriend gave a speech. The highest achiever on their degree course. Mike had teased him before the ceremony about punching above his weight, and Connor had teased right back about his bachelor status and no one being good enough for him because of his impossibly stratospheric standards.
“Never too late though,” Connor had said through a grin. “Even grumpy old men can find happiness.”
Mike had found happiness of course, just never actively pursued it. He had been content enough sharing in the orbit of Benjamin Asher. He had learned to compromise on some things in life. Well, most things except perhaps the protection of the two people in the world he cared for most. He stood aside while Ben wrapped his son in a crushing hug. “Maggie would be so proud,” he whispered in his ear. Connor unabashedly buried his face in his father’s collar. “I know…” came the muffled response.
Mike took another step back and to the side to give their shared moment of melancholy some space, putting himself in the path of and on a collusion course with one of the graduates. Mike turned towards her to apologise and was met with a look that could only be described as bone-deep frustration. Forever honed to read body language and potential threats, Mike took in the appearance of the young woman who had shared the stage with Connor. She dragged her focus, which had been completely on Ben, towards Mike. She withdrew her right hand, which had been concealed beneath her outer robe. It was trembling slightly. Mike noted a slight sheen of perspiration on her forehead. She muttered an apology and ducked her head, diverting her path towards the exit. Mike watched her glance over her shoulder back towards Ben and Connor, who were discussing a trip to their cabin upstate for the weekend. Mike’s sixth sense was twitching. He made a move to follow.
“Hey,” Ben said, noticing his departure. “Where you off to?”
“Little boys room. See you outside?” Mike tossed over his shoulder, moving to follow her.
Ben nodded. “Sure.”
Mike walked through the door at the end of the hall and saw the swish of a black graduation robe disappear around the corner ahead. He followed swiftly to catch her up, and collided with her again, heading back towards him. What he wasn’t expecting was to collide with the now unconcealed blade and three jabs to his abdomen in quick succession. “I guess the man who protected him all these years will have to do,” she snarled. Mike grabbed her head and knocked it against the wall beside them, rendering her unconscious, before he slid down the wall himself and collapsed to the floor. He was flagging fast, and realised she must have sliced something vital. The last thing he heard before he passed out was a woman scream for an ambulance and Ben shout his name.
It was quiet. So peaceful. Mike felt warm and groggy, floating on a cloud of painless bliss. He sighed and opened his eyes. The room was almost dark. The first thing he noticed was the sound of a steady beep next to his bed. He tipped his head to the side and saw the heart rate monitor and it’s line attachment to his arm. The events that had brought him here slowly returned to his memory. He tilted his head to the opposite direction to take in his surroundings. His heart instantly sped up when he saw Benjamin Asher laid out sleeping in the bed next to him.
“Ben?! BEN!” He moved to sit up and instantly regretted it, the dose of morphine worn off enough to remind him of the state of his abdomen and the knife wounds he could now add to his collection of scars. Then the door to the room opened and a nurse entered. “Mr Banning? Good to see you awake, but you really need to keep still. The surgery and blood transfusion have taken their toil on your body. Recovery will take some time.”
“What happened?” he rasped out. “Not me. Him,” he finished before the nurse thought he was speaking about himself.
The nurse smiled, picking up the chart hanging at the bottom of the bed and made some notes.
“Former President Asher proved to be the same blood type as you, Mr Banning. He saved your life.”
The nurse replaced the chart and tucked the pen into his jacket. “Rest,” he said softly before leaving the room and turning down the light.
Mike lay in the dark for the longest time before he finally fell asleep, memories ebbing and flowing through his mind, all the while his eyes trained on the outline of Ben, watching the gentle rise and fall of his chest beneath the sheets.