Author's Note: "Who'll stop the rain?" was originally posted with the intro stating that the song "Who'll stop the rain?" by Credence Clearwater Revival inspired this story.

********************

Please God......Not again

The mission had gone according to schematics and Michael had given the order to evacuate. Walter sat in the van watching the end stages of the mission through the rather voyeuristic site of another operative. The scene that played before him was a darkened tapestry of shadowed figures and the fluorescent green of the vision goggles. He could see the team file from the building, could hear their heavy breathing. The timing was critical as Michael had just moments before activated the charges on an explosive of which Walter was particularly proud. New and improved was his description when Michael had questioned the unusual device. "All I can tell you is there ain't no hanging around once its set." He almost chuckled to himself when he saw they were heeding his advice.

The huff of exertional breathing echoed in unison through the transceiver, one operative's voice breaking the timbre... "Where's Michael?"

Walter's vessel of viewing stopped moving to look back into the building and both he and Walter were now privy to the unfortunate sequence of events........

Michael made his way across the metal scaffold in a manner that displayed his ever-present athletic grace. His step was smooth and accurate, his pace rapid despite the precarious situation. The only breathing now heard was his. And they watched. The kevlar vest deflected the bullet that found him, a shot fired from the hand of a dying opponent, his quest to complete his mission just as fierce as his adversary. It was the unexpected impact that made Michael lose his balance.

There it was again, the certain grace that was undeniably Michael. His fall was amazingly controlled, fluid muscles tightening in an attempt to keep his body upright and minimize injury on impact.

Some things were beyond control......

Walter watched with morbid fascination as Michael's head met with the metal ledge that seemingly had no other purpose save causing the tragedy that would come of its presence.

And Michael fell.......

silently......

lifelessly...........

no longer aware of his descent.

"60 seconds to detonation" Birkoff's voice came through the COM unit barely masking the thud of impact.

Walter held his breath for a moment awaiting the operative's decision. He felt that same breath gush from tightly held lips when his view began to wobble as the operative ran back to retrieve the fallen man. The rest was a blur of events that passed before Walter's distraught eyes.

Determining whether or not the retrieval was warranted was superfluous. The decision had been made and the operative's timing was critical. The grunt of lifting Michael's dead weight was audible and Walter's heart beat merged with the gasping breath of the straining operative as each critical second ticked by.

*************

The van rocked with the repercussion of multiple explosions. Walter didn't feel it. His mind was frozen in the moment in time just before the mayhem. That was of course until the order to evacuate came in a voice that was not the soft yet authoritative one he had come to expect. His mind screamed that they should wait, that the rescuing operative might still be recoverable...........

and Michael.....please God....and Michael.

Just as the van began its departure there was a loud bang against the metal door. Immediately the occupants of the vehicle aimed their tired weapons, fatigue etched in their faces. When the door opened the hushed reaction of the stunned group was immediately replaced by the flurry of helpers. The injured young operative stood slumped against the door's frame, his arms wrapped protectively around his midsection, which even through the dark mission gear gleamed with freely flowing blood. Walter watched with concern as the young man was helped into the van......his concern turning quickly to confusion as he watched him struggle against the assistance. The young man's grip on consciousness waned quickly, obvious by the flickering lids over upturned eyes. With his last ounce of effort his arm came away from his wound to point weakly at the door and then he collapsed into the arms of his comrades.

Two members of the team alighted the van weapons first and it wasn't long before they returned carrying an all too inanimate Michael between them.

Someone signaled the driver to go. Walter wasn't exactly sure at this point who was doing what. What he did know was they were now traveling with two wounded men through remote territory and Section was hours away. The trek over rough terrain was thankfully the shorter part of the trip. It seemed to Walter that they had just barely gotten the two men settled in when the bump and grind of the vehicle's entrance into the belly of the plane was apparent.

Alighting the van to take residence in the cavernous innards of the plane was a slow progression of battle-worn soldiers. Two benches adorned the sides of the plane while similar racks above held the parachutes. There wasn't much else. These planes were meant for transportation only, and whether you planned on staying with the plane or decided to leave mid-trip didn't matter.

One by one each of the weary travelers settled onto the benches. Two self-appointed operatives had appeared offering support to the wounded operative Karl whose name finally popped into Walter's mind. He still held his mid-section tightly but the ooze of blood had abated and the young man actually looked much better than he did earlier. Walter sighed with relief that he would get the chance to thank the young man for what could only be perceived as a valiant effort.

Michael was carried carefully from the plane and placed gently on a blanket that had been spread on the floor. The benches unfortunately were narrow unyielding planks of wood that required strength and balance should the plane hit turbulence. The safest place for their injured cargo was the floor. There wasn't much else that could be done. After speaking with Section a med team was on standby and the only instructions were to keep him warm and try to stave any bleeding.

Walter glanced over at Michael. He took in the pale features and the sweat beading on his brow. He saw, even from his position on one of the benches, that his breathing was labored, his chest rising and falling in an uneven staccato. The roar of the engines starting brought him to consciousness and his eyes opened briefly, a flutter of visible awareness.

Walter drew himself over to sit Indian style beside him on the floor.

He whispered Michael's name softly and he responded by opening heavy lidded eyes. His gaze shifted to the side to seek out Walter briefly and then closed, the effort of something so small proving taxing.

He's not going to make it The voice in Walter's head echoed his sentiments.

Walter felt awkward and suddenly a bit ashamed that he honestly didn't know how to offer him comfort. With a dejected sigh he stated his purpose........

"I'm here Michael."

For a moment he wasn't sure Michael was still conscious. He lay there perfectly still, eyes closed. Walter bowed his head in recognition of the fact that even if he had heard him the response would be the same. Always the loner huh kid?

But he had heard...... and he did respond..........

Slowly Michael's hand crawled across his body reaching shakily toward the older man. Weak fingers knotted themselves into Walter's shirt and a vain attempt was made to pull his body after it. It took a moment for Walter to realize what he was doing but when his awareness caught up it was with a slight gasp and brimming tears that he completed the younger man's task.

Carefully he lifted Michael's shoulders from the floor and brought him the rest of the way into his arms. He could feel his fingers still wound tightly in the material of his shirt and his ragged breathing as he burrowed his face into Walter's chest.

Don't leave me That voice again, swirling in the recesses of Walter's mind.

"I've got you" Walter whispered.

That's when it all began.

That's when a moment in the past, long ago relegated to the deeper recesses of conscious thought, resurfaced. It was one of those occurrences that constantly shaped the man he would become.

It was the death of innocence..

Please.......don't leave me

And the birth of guilt..............

I'm right here

Walter's arms tightened in a more desperate hug as he held his dying friend............and he remembered.....

************

Denny.

Walter let a sad smile crease his weathered features. His heart suddenly felt a surge of so many emotions it physically hurt. He remembered Denny and he smiled. He remembered again and he cried.

Denny was the friend most people only dream of having. They were together whenever possible, often talking about life and where they were at the moment and where they were headed. Denny would listen quietly while Walter unloaded his own inner demons, never casting a stone, never judging. Whenever Walter would begin to get uncomfortable with what he was emoting Denny would interject a careful quip that would lighten the moment........In fact more often than not rendering any future talk hopeless as each would crack up with laughter. He was the friend you could sit with and never feel the need to break an uncomfortable silence. He was the friend that was there whenever needed.

And he was there when Walter decided it was time to head out and find himself.....

"It's something I just gotta do."

Walter packed some meager belongings onto his old but treasured Harley and began his journey. He wasn't more than 1/2 mile into his trip when he slowed to stop beside Denny, sitting casually on his own vintage Harley, packed and ready to go.

"Something WE gotta do." Denny smiled

That was Denny..........always there when you needed him.

************

The tears began to brim in Walter's sparkling blue eyes as he continued down the path of recollection.......memories he had laid to rest long ago. Unconsciously he began rocking Michael.... slowly, gently brushing the sweat soaked hair from the side of his face.

************

As they rode their bikes along the simple two lane highway they exchanged the occasional smile, constantly reinforcing that at this moment in time they couldn't have been happier.....couldn't have felt freer.

Albuquerque, New Mexico.......hazy and hot but thankfully dry. One of the stops Walter was looking forward to. He loved the Indian art and folklore and couldn't wait to mingle with the natives for whatever length of time this would be their new home. 24 miles. That's all that remained to this leg of their journey. They were thinking the same thing. Denny pulled up alongside Walter happily giving the thumb's up sign. Walter responded in kind, still smiling as he watched Denny pull ahead to take the lead.

He didn't see it....

The hot tarry surface of the road often created those black puddle type mirages you just knew were simply that. There was no reason to think otherwise......no reason to slow down or alter direction.

Walter watched with horror as Denny's bike went out of control, immediately losing contact with the surface after hitting the slick. He couldn't hold it. Denny was thrown from the bike and even as Walter slowed to a stop he could hear the horrible thud as his unprotected head hit the pavement.

He ran to his friend in panic.

"Denny?"

His eyes opened slowly.

Walter remembered looking down the barren highway and all of a sudden the beauty of its emptiness became the burden of isolation.

"I'll go get help"

He rose from Denny's side....

"Don't leave me" Denny's weak and pleading voice stabbed at him.

That's when the embers of guilt began to burn. The decision was quick. He wanted nothing more than to get on his bike and ride like hell..... Denny needed help.

But what he needed and what he wanted placed the dilemma on Walter's young shoulders. And Walter never knew if the decision was the right one. He knew one thing though......

He couldn't take the chance that Denny would die out there alone.

He gathered his friend in his arms and rocked him gently and he spoke of all the good times and of the promise of the future. In between tales he begged his friend his brother to hold on. He reminded him of all that he had to look forward to.

And he prayed that help would find it's way to them in time.

*************

A soft moan snapped Walter back to the present and he looked down at Michael with an element of bewilderment.

Not Denny......

Michael.

And he was dying.

As he had done over 30 years ago Walter hugged his friend tightly to his chest. He wanted to sit and tell him about all of the good times and all that he had to look forward to. Wanted to beg him to hold on.

He couldn't.

He looked down at the pale and pain filled features of the young man in his arms and cried. What could he say? For as long as he knew him Michael's life was nothing more than that of a prisoner. Everyone at Section was a prisoner, but Michael went beyond even that

The favorite son. The pressure placed on him was great. Walter always wondered how he managed to go on. His life in Section was one test after another.......one more peg in the coffin holding his soul. Most in Section respected Michael....... some feared him.

There were also those that pitied him. They were the ones who knew that there were times when it was best to blend with the semblance of mediocrity. Times when it just didn't work to your benefit to stand above the rest.

Walter sighed heavily through the tears. No, he couldn't talk to Michael about all the reasons he should try to hang on.....He couldn't think of any. He was sure there were some memories of Simone or Adam and Elena that would soothe the younger man's distress. Alas, it could also bring forth the pain of memories best left buried wherever it was he managed to store them.

He could remind him of the love he held for Nikita.......that she held for him. Unfortunately that too could easily bring upon the pain of unrequited love.

"Hang on Michael" Walter whispered.

Let the reason be his

He felt his shirt twist in Michael's still tightly held fingers. He took in a deep breath dreading what he was going to say next but knowing they both needed to hear it.

"I'm here either way........Walter choked on his words.

"Can you hear me Michael?"

Walter waited a moment in silence and then brought his face closer to Michael's. He gently wiped the sweat soaked tendrils away from his ear and whispered so that only he would hear....

"You won't die alone."

Michael heard him. Walter watched the lone tear slide down his cheek with profound sadness, but it was his feeble attempt to raise a weakened hand to wipe away its evidence that broke Walter's heart.

He wiped gently at the traitor to the young man's emotions and once again his mind journeyed to the past......

************

"Sing it for me would you Wally?"

Walter cringed at the slang version of his name. He hated it. Of course Denny knew that; but whenever Walter would be a little too full of himself Denny would bring him back to reality with a quick "relax Wally." It was his way of breaking the tension.

Walter watched the life flow from his friend's broken body and realized this was something he could not deny. Through a devastated heart he began the song that was to be his friend and brother's last request.....

Long as I remember The rain been comin' down. Clouds of myst'ry pourin' Confusion on the ground. Good men through the ages, Tryin' to find the sun;

He felt the weight in his arms grow heavier, strained muscles relaxing in the final stages toward eternal rest. He held Denny in a fierce grip, rocking him to the tune still circling his mind.

Denny was gone.

Through the sobs wracking Walter's entire body he managed to fulfill the rest of his friend's request......

And through the stillness of the desert sky his gravely voice sang the rest of the song Denny loved so much......

And I wonder, Still I wonder, Who'll stop the rain?

************

Walter came back to the present when he felt the weight in his arms grow heavier.

Please God...... Not again

Michael's fingers once tangled in the thin fabric of Walter's shirt came loose to fall at his side.

"I've got you"

He felt the life ebb from his friend's broken body and held him tighter, rocking him gently. He thought he would only cry the type of gut wrenching, soul shattering sob of that fateful day years ago once in his life.

He was wrong.

He sang it softly this time...... his gravely voice breaking through the tears......

And I wonder, Still I wonder, Who'll stop the rain?

************

Walter's eyes looked exceptionally large when viewed through the magnifying glasses. He worked with great concentration, each and every detail necessitating nothing less. Something drew his attention briefly from his work and his gaze followed the direction of the interruption.......

Michael walked toward his work area, his gait unsteady, fatigue obvious in his still ashen complexion. He had just been released from Med Lab, again too soon from a medical standpoint but there was just no denying him.

Walter smiled at his approach as his mind wandered back to that day three weeks ago. He remembered flashes of that moment in uncomfortable images......

We've got him Walter

They had to pry Michael's body from Walter's desperate grip. He had kept his promise.

Michael was not alone.

But 30 years had made a difference in medical technology........ or was it Michael's decision to stay verses Denny's decision to move on.....

Walter wasn't sure.

As Michael grew closer Walter's gaze faltered. He wasn't sure what Michael remembered from that fateful day but for some strange reason Walter was suddenly embarrassed.

And he was angry with himself for feeling that way. Angry that once again, despite knowing better, he was all too ready to treat the young man as someone who would never know the basics of human emotion.

He deserved better......

"Hey Michael." Walter greeted him with a sincere smile.

Michael's return greeting was a softly spoken slightly breathless one...... simple and to the point..... "Hello"

The two men stood silently and Walter's eyes locked on the bright green ones that for one of the few times since he could remember did not shift away.

Michael reached inside his jacket pocket and handed Walter a micro CD.

"I wanted to thank you." Michael's soft voice held an endearing sincerity.

Walter's hand came out to grasp the offering despite his words "There's no need."

Michael didn't say anything further. He simply turned and walked away.

Walter watched his slow and labored retreat and marveled that the young man made the extra effort to seek him out. He looked down at the tiny CD in his hand and brought it to the player on his workbench. In neat script the words written on the outer sleeve read simply

Thank you

Walter's brow wrinkled with confusion as he waited for what ever was on the CD to begin.

And then he heard it......

Michael stopped..... turning to face Walter as the music wafted through the small distance between the two men.....

Long as I remember The rain been comin' down. Clouds of myst'ry pourin' Confusion on the ground. Good men through the ages, Tryin' to find the sun; And I wonder, Still I wonder, Who'll stop the rain?

Walter's suddenly misty eyes locked with Michael's. This time the younger man's silence was somehow comforting. And if at all possible, without being anywhere near him, Walter hugged him for all he was worth. . He looked again at the paper sleeve that held Michael's token of thankfulness and then without knowing exactly why tipped it over to look at the other side.

From both of us

He looked up in time to catch Michael's smile, a brief and slight uplifting of his lips that continued on to his bright green eyes. Wordlessly he turned and continued on his way.

There were things you just didn't bother to question. This Walter knew.

He also knew that the guilt he had carried through too many years finally lifted from his older shoulders. His gaze rose above to the place he knew Denny now was with tears of happiness in his eyes.

He was alone but he spoke aloud, not caring if anyone heard.

"You're welcome."

He continued once again with his work.......his gravely voice singing softly to the tune and somehow he knew that at that exact moment in time Denny was singing with him.

And I wonder, Still I wonder, Who'll stop the rain.

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