And I'll Stay With You, the Walls Will Fall Before We Do

"FBI!" Renee shouted as she shouldered the door open, wincing at the aggravation of her neck wound but not letting it stop her.

She still felt like this was a waste of time; Alan Wilson wouldn't have critical evidence just lying around for the FBI to find. But the alternative was facing the judgemental stares of her coworkers back at the office, so she was happy to avoid that by doing something useless. Her fury still sat deep within her core, even if torturing Wilson had briefly made her feel better. She probably would have been more satisfied if Janis hadn't decided to remind her of Larry right before she went in. Then again, even if Larry were here to express his disappointment, it would be nothing compared to her growing self-hatred. The only reason she wasn't in a holding room for her choice of interrogation tactics was that they were short-staffed as a result of the bombing. She was the only one authorised to run the FBI, but Homeland Security was trying its best to get rid of her. Hence, she was investigating this house in the suburbs rather than a warehouse or viable base of operations for Wilson.

The other agents started to clear the rooms, but it felt unnecessary; there were no signs that anybody had lived in, worked in, or otherwise occupied this house. It either meant it was unrelated to Wilson's operations or, more likely, that he had cleaned up after himself. Renee heard Agent Park and Agent Keyes announce that it was safe to proceed and started walking around, hoping there would be something worthwhile. The only hope of finding anything was rooted in knowing that Wilson had put effort into hiding his ownership of the property. But even then, she felt so exhausted and numb that she didn't care anymore. Renee no longer had faith in the government to do the right thing. For someone like Alan Wilson to have gotten away with a conspiracy that was bigger than anything she had ever seen, one that had taken thousands of innocent lives and most likely lacked proof worthy enough for the law to punish him, made her feel hopeless.

Their search of the main floor turned up nothing. Keyes volunteered to check the attic, doubting she would find anything more than dust bunnies. Renee went with Park to the basement. She switched on her flashlight after opening the door, which notably didn't creak despite its old and rusty appearance. Park went down first, and Renee watched his circle of light survey the room before settling on one particular spot.

"Agent Walker... come here."

She couldn't see anything from the top of the stairs, but the soberness of his voice concerned her.

Renee heeded his request, gasping when she saw what he was referring to.

A woman sat with her knees to her chest, gagged by a piece of rope. Her wrists were chained to a water pipe beside her. She flinched at the torchlight; Renee surmised it was probably the brightest thing she had seen in a very long time. She was wearing nothing but a torn, bloody hospital gown that looked far too large for her. Her brown, frizzy hair fell to her waist. She had a black eye and a faint scar across her pale cheek. There were similar scars on her arms and legs. Some looked like stab wounds, others were thicker and more discoloured. When Renee clicked that the latter resembled burn scars, it only confirmed her belief about the woman's identity.

Renee bent down to her level very slowly. The woman shuffled back against the wall, her body curling up as much as possible to protect herself. Her brown eyes stared at her intently, clearly examining her as much as she was in return. Renee's chest panged at the woman's fright. But it wasn't just out of concern for her. No, it brought up vivid memories that Renee had tried hard to forget. The way she used to tense when he was near, the smell of vodka on his breath, the callouses of his hands as they pinned her down. Constantly keeping her guard up, knowing that his mood could change at the drop of a hat and that she could be in his line of fire. At the same time, having to please him to ensure he still liked her enough not to kill her so she could get his information and make it all worth it.

Most of all, Renee was reminded of the day the FBI had pulled her out of her cover, and Larry had found her trembling and crying, naked under a blanket where Laitanin had left her. She remembered cowering when he tried to touch her, the worry on his face. But after being checked out by FBI Medical, when they had clinically summarised her abuse and patted her on the back for a mission well done, Larry's strong arms had held her tightly, telling her that everything would be okay. Her heart ached, knowing she would never feel those arms or have that reassurance again. But this woman wouldn't be alone now. No, once she was brought back to the FBI, she would have someone to hold her, too. She deserved as much — even if he didn't.

Of course, she knew this woman wasn't here on her own accord. She had been considered dead for over five years. Renee doubted anybody, besides Alan Wilson and perhaps some of his associates, knew she was here.

Renee gently said her name. The woman looked at her more directly, nodding slightly. Understandably, she was confused as to how Renee knew who she was.

"I'm Agent Walker from the FBI. We're going to get you out of here," Renee said assuredly, but the emotion in her voice still came through.

The woman nodded again, more fervidly, her breathing shortening up. Renee removed the gag from her mouth, and the woman coughed a few times.

She asked Park to try to find the key to the handcuffs upstairs, but when she got up to search the basement, the woman whimpered.

"I'm not going anywhere," Renee said, quickly returning to where she was sitting. "I'm just looking for something to undo the cuffs, okay? I'm not leaving you."

The woman made a noise of assent, and thankfully, Park returned, saying he had found a set of keys. He went to use them, but the woman recoiled as he came close to her. He furrowed his brow, and Renee placed a hand on his shoulder, asking him to give her some space and taking the keys from him. Renee compared the keys to the one for the handcuffs in her pocket and found a match, lifting the woman's hands so she could attempt to unlock the restraints. Sure enough, there was a click. The woman tenderly rubbed her wrists, thanking her so quietly that Renee wasn't sure if she imagined it. Renee offered a hand to help her up, and it was clear the woman was mustering every ounce of strength to stabilise herself, gripping her wrist like she was an apparition that might disappear. The woman winced, and Renee noticed fresh blood coming through the gown around her abdomen.

Together, she and Park helped the woman up the stairs, where they met Keyes. Her eyes widened. "Oh my God, is that?-"

Renee nodded, silently answering her question.

As they came outside, Renee saw movement, feeling a familiar sense of alarm in her gut, and shouted for everyone to take cover. She counted six hostiles. She was glad they all decided to wear Kevlar as a precaution because Keyes immediately fell back, winded from the bullet hitting her abdomen. Renee did her best to concentrate on firing back as the woman next to her screamed, who had crouched behind the doorframe to protect herself. Park had a near miss to his head but did not let that stop him. They fought with everything they had, coming dangerously close to running out of ammunition, but eventually took the hostiles out.

Park went to help Keyes while Renee bent down to where the woman was and told her it was over. But obviously, she had endured more than enough, and the firefight had frightened her because she kept her hands over her ears, crying and shaking. It took a few tries, but Renee eventually got her to stand and lean on her as they walked to the car. Renee motioned with her head for Park to drive while Keyes sat in the passenger seat, taking laboured breaths to push through the pain.

In the daylight, the woman beside her looked even paler and sicker than she had in the basement. Renee let her keep her hand on her forearm, wanting her to feel safe despite knowing this wasn't over. There was so much to think about. They had barely been at Wilson's property for half an hour yet could have easily lost their lives just now. Wilson could be hiding even more than they initially estimated. His countless associates could still be pulling all the strings, their identities unbeknownst to the FBI. Renee was sure they might try to silence this woman again and that she was aware of this, too. They had likely left her down there to die of starvation by the time anybody found her — if anybody found her. Tony Almeida's role in this was also on her mind. She wasn't quite sure how she felt about that.

Park drove off urgently as Renee used her free hand to grab her phone.

"FBI, Gold."

"Janis, I need a room set up at FBI Medical," Renee directed. "Maximum security. Keep it on a need-to-know."

"Are you guys okay?" she asked worriedly. "Do you need backup?"

"We were ambushed. Agent Keyes got hit in the vest, but Agent Park and I are fine. The room isn't for us." Renee was still looking at the frightened woman quivering beneath her touch. "Wilson's been keeping someone hostage here."

"Who?"

"Almeida's wife."

Understandably, everything was very overwhelming for Michelle. Renee had found her a blanket for the car ride, but she was still trembling. When they got to the FBI, she escorted Michelle through a back entrance to avoid too many people being around. However, the medical ward was close to the bullpen, so all the sounds and lights were still a lot for her.

Other than her open wounds, there was no telling whether her health was in an urgent state; hence, the doctors and nurses worked quite frantically, but this only made Michelle more distressed. Despite how frail she appeared, she asserted herself firmly, jerking back as they tried to look at her. Renee asked to clear the room so only one doctor could examine her, but even then, Michelle moved into the corner and shook her head. She noticed Michelle kept looking at her, wanting her approval and assurance. Even as blood continued dripping onto the floor from her injuries, and she leaned against the wall for support, Michelle was not going to trust anybody — especially men, Renee was guessing.

But let nobody say that Michelle could not stand up for herself because she used the split second that Renee turned around to grab a pair of medical scissors from the table, run out of the room, and go down the hall. Michelle was probably very used to looking for opportunities to escape. Renee couldn't exactly blame her for her reaction. She cursed under her breath, trying to follow her without making her feel she was being hunted. Renee only stopped to call Janis and ask her to put her laptop and things in the ward, figuring Michelle wouldn't want her to leave once she convinced her to return.

It seemed Michelle's fatigue caught up to her adrenaline as Renee followed the trail of blood droplets and found Michelle hiding in a dark server room.

Renee called for her very calmly, and her head appeared around the corner of one of the larger servers. She was holding the scissors out with a clenched fist, her breathing unsteady. God, she was so scared.

"Don't touch me," she begged. "Please don't touch me."

She approached Michelle very slowly, trying her hardest not to startle her further.

"I know you're scared," Renee said gently. "I… I understand that this is a lot for you."

Michelle didn't move, and Renee noticed that the light from one of the LEDs shone in a way that accentuated a large, hand-shaped bruise on her throat. She consciously tried to push down thoughts of Laitanin, then realised that her experience could be a tool to help Michelle trust her.

"I…" Renee took a breath. "I know what you've been through. I know you've spent every day wondering what he might do to you next, wishing it would end, feeling nothing but powerless. I know you've sat there thinking about whether it would be less painful if you tried to go along with it, but it never worked. I know the way it hurts, the way it never leaves you, the way you swear you can still hear him or feel him even when he's not around."

She closed her eyes, stopping herself in her ramble, not wanting to project too much at the risk of triggering anything for her.

"I- What I went through isn't quite the same, I'll admit it. You've lived with this for six years. It was only a year and a half for me, not even. You were taken against your will. I was undercover."

She seemed to react to her empathy, looking at her as she explained but not losing her defensive stance.

"What I'm trying to say is... I don't blame you. I was afraid when I got back, too, even though this place was familiar," Renee said sympathetically. "But you're safe now."

Michelle said nothing and still appeared very on edge. Renee felt like she had let her down, that the whole government had, really.

"I wish I could say we've just been waiting for the right time to rescue you." Renee pressed her lips together. "But we haven't. I wish I could say that we knew about Wilson, but we didn't. I wish I could say that we had any clue of the extent of this conspiracy, but we don't know that, either. The truth is if it wasn't for the fact that we looked into some of his properties and went out to Arlington first… I-I don't know if we would have found you in time."

Her eyes widened at Arlington. "We're… we're not in LA?" Her voice was very hoarse, like she'd done nothing but yell and scream for the last six years.

Renee shook her head, pained by the shock in her expression. "You're at the FBI in Washington, DC."

She nodded slowly. While the FBI didn't know how Wilson had taken Michelle, Renee realised that Michelle likely didn't know too much herself.

"How long has it been?" Michelle asked quietly. Renee could barely hear her. "Since he took me?"

"It's been almost six years since the day of the car bomb," she answered, feeling a pang in her chest as Michelle cupped a hand over her mouth, absorbing those words.

She sighed. "You're… you're our only lead, Michelle. You're the only reason we can detain Alan Wilson right now." Renee struggled to find her words, not wanting to place such a burden on her. "I-I'm not saying that to make you worry, but I'm saying that if you trust me and the FBI, we can help make sure he gets justice." She knew those words were cautiously optimistic. But they were true. The full extent of his crimes might never come to light, but at the very least, he could be held accountable for what he had done to her. "He isn't being held here. We'll protect you."

Michelle seemed to consider it, but her fear was still apparent. It would take a lot to trust not only her but also anybody else who might have a role in her care or the case. But Renee knew that one person might help be able to convince her that things would be okay, undoubtedly.

"Tony's here."

The mere mention of his name brought so much life to her expression. However, Renee knew that using Tony here was a risky move. Even though Tony could encourage Michelle to allow the doctors to treat her, their reunion — and subsequent farewell — might make things worse. It was painfully easy to picture Michelle sitting in his lap, curling away from the world, head resting against his chest as she trusted him to protect her.

She remembered Larry holding her for a long time after the doctors treated her. She remembered him telling her that he would never let this happen to her again. Renee snapped herself out of her memories and remembered what was at hand. She couldn't start a habit of Michelle only allowing other people to help her if Tony was around; as cruel as it sounded, she would have to be okay with doing this without him.

"I-I can't bring him to you yet, but I promise I will." Renee took a second to breathe, aware that Michelle had tears in her eyes. "I'm sure he'll be very happy to see you." She met Michelle's gaze. "But I'm also sure it would mean the world to him if you let the doctors check you out first. He would want us to make sure you're okay. I'll be there the whole time. I'll listen to you, and we'll take everything one step at a time." Renee slowly came closer, holding out her hand. "Can you please come with me?"

To her relief, after a moment, Michelle placed the scissors in her open hand and shuffled forward, walking close to her. Renee adjusted so Michelle could lean on her and helped her back to the medical ward. She gave her the blanket from before, too.

Renee opened her laptop and started examining the staff rosters for FBI Medical. All of the female doctors had gone home. At this hour, it would take a while for them to get here. Renee realised she still had Doctor Macer's file open on her computer. She had been reading some of the research articles she had sent her about the prion variant, but something else caught her eye. Sunny was probably heading out of the FBI to follow up on Jack's treatment (he had been moved to her clinic), so Renee knew she needed to catch her quickly.

She got up and looked through the window to the adjoining room, sighing as she realised Doctor Macer was still there.

"I'll be right back, Michelle, okay?" Renee said, hating that she had to leave her, even for just a moment. "I'm getting someone who can help you." She pointed at the door. "I'm locking the room from the outside. You're safe in here."

Michelle nodded like she didn't have much of a choice.

"Doctor Macer," Renee called as she entered.

The doctor turned to her. "Agent Walker, is everything okay?"

"We have a patient for you to examine."

Her eyes widened. "Was someone else exposed?"

"No, that's not it, I…" Renee shook her head. "I'll explain."

Thankfully, she must have conveyed enough urgency because Sunny led her to an empty ward.

"The patient is Michelle Dessler."

The doctor furrowed her brow. "Michelle? But she… she died, didn't she?"

"No," Renee said gravely. "She was held hostage and tortured for almost six years. We found her an hour ago."

Her expression softened, and she moved her hand to her chest.

"She can barely walk or speak, but she won't let anybody touch her. She's got open wounds, and she'll need a rape kit done as well. I know it was a long time ago, but if she happens to remember you, I'm sure it would help a lot, especially since her husband is in custody."

"Tony's alive, too?"

"Yeah, that takes a little longer to explain, but… Tony was part of the attacks today."

Sunny was horrified by this. "Oh my God."

"But don't let that impact your decision. Michelle is innocent. Please, doctor, I'm sure she would really appreciate it."

"Of course. Let me see her."

Renee unlocked the door and was glad Michelle hadn't tried to escape again. She looked up immediately as she came in, seemingly relieved to see her but also surprised to see Sunny.

Sunny stood in front but still kept her distance. "Michelle?"

Hearing Sunny's voice must have helped to jog her memory because Michelle looked back at her with an expression that Renee could only describe as recognition.

"I'm Doctor Sunny Macer. Do you remember me?" she asked gently.

To her relief, Michelle nodded after a beat.

"I know you've been through a lot, but it's important that we help you. It'll help you feel better. I understand you're afraid and don't know what to trust. Since you at least know me a little, would you be willing to let me look at you?"

Michelle pressed her lips together.

"If you want, I can give you a sedative to help you relax-"

She shook her head adamantly.

The doctor seemed to have expected this. "I won't give you anything unless you want me to, and you can change your mind whenever you'd like. We can take plenty of breaks. I'll be very careful; I know what you've been through, but some things still might be a little uncomfortable."

"And I'll stay in the room with you the whole time, Michelle," Renee reminded her. "Nobody's going to do anything to you without your permission."

Again, she looked between them, still trying to gauge who or what she could believe. But her scrutiny soon faded into acceptance.

"Okay," Michelle whispered.

They helped her undress very slowly, and Renee held her breath as she saw the array of scars covering her body. Many of the larger ones looked quite old and were likely from the bomb. But the thinner ones along her arms and chest looked like they had never been given the chance to heal. Cigarette burns covered her back like constellations. There were also several large bruises on her wrists, her neck, and the inside of her thighs. Her forearms had small collections of track marks, and Doctor Macer drew a blood sample. She didn't even flinch but watched her like a hawk, intent on confirming that she was not being drugged. She was also very pointedly keeping her legs flush together. The doctor checked her heartbeat and disinfected the slightly open wounds, causing her to wince. She coughed a few times, quite harshly. A check with the stethoscope indicated her lungs were weak.

Michelle would need to be sent for a few scans, but they weren't immediately urgent. The last thing Sunny needed to do was examine between her legs.

Sunny lowered her voice as she came closer to Renee. "Look, some parts of the exam don't have to be done if she's not pressing charges. It'll make it quicker and easier for her, too."

Renee knew which parts she was referring to. Despite the doctor at the time of her exam recommending she do so, Renee had refused, informing him that there was no point because she knew who had assaulted her — and he had plenty of other charges against him already. Unfortunately, this was not the case for Alan Wilson. Charging him with rape and grievous assault might be the only thing they could do. Renee would never force Michelle to do something she didn't want to. She completely respected her boundaries. But she hated the thought of Alan Wilson getting away with even more than he already had.

"I'll do it," Michelle rasped, with more strength than she had heard from her so far.

When she and Sunny both turned to her, her cheek was twitching, and there was a look of resolve in her eyes.

"I want the full exam," she clarified.

Sunny hadn't been very loud, and although Michelle seemed to have some hearing damage, most likely from the bomb, she had obviously been trying to listen in, which Renee couldn't fault her for.

"If you change your mind, that's okay," Sunny emphasised.

Michelle still seemed afraid but very determined to try. It took her a good moment to put her feet in the stirrups. She had to spread her legs forcibly; it was like they had been stitched together, and she was ripping them at the seams. Even then, she hesitated, seeming to argue with herself. She rationally knew that it was important, but her innate survival mode was protesting. She was in so much pain, but she was doing everything she could to power through it. She trusted the two of them, which meant the world to Renee.

The slightest contact made Michelle whimper. She turned her face into the pillow and grabbed Renee's hand. Renee tried to get ahold of her breathing, empathising deeply with what Michelle was experiencing. Memories she thought she had blocked out came back to her. She remembered squeezing Larry's hand until she thought it might break. She remembered his voice, soothing and loving and everything she had needed during such an awful time. She remembered crying a lot, too. Renee wondered how he might feel about this situation if he were here. Would he be biased against Michelle because of everything Tony had done? Or would he recognise her as yet another horrible victim of this conspiracy?

When the exam was over, Sunny typed up her notes before finally allowing Michelle to shower and change into a clean gown. She said she would try to rearrange her schedule so she could come past the FBI once a day but apologised for having to leave so soon. Michelle seemed okay, though, thanking her very quietly for treating her.

As Michelle rested on the bed again, her breathing was heavy, and she looked like she might pass out from exhaustion. Still, she was trying to keep herself awake, clearly not about to let her guard down.

"Thank you, Michelle," Renee said softly. "Thank you so much for trusting us."

She nodded, then met her eyes. "Where's Tony?"

Renee sighed. Of course, Michelle would not have forgotten about him, but Renee was now reluctant to heed her request. She was finally calm and recognised the FBI was safe. Seeing Tony and learning that he couldn't stay would upset her dearly. However, Michelle had been deprived of so many of her basic needs for a long time. She couldn't bear to crush her with disappointment, or worse, make her feel betrayed. Her mind considered Tony's role in this, too. He had a right to know Michelle was alive. At the very least, so he could realise just how much he had fucked up. He was still in FBI custody but would be transferred relatively soon. Renee knew it was now or never. She could assert what lingering authority she had to permit him to visit her, to say hello, then goodbye.

It would hurt like hell, but Michelle deserved the truth, and Renee had made a promise.

"I'll bring him to you."

Renee was convinced her anger had grown exponentially in the short walk from the medical ward to Tony's holding room. Knowing that Tony had done everything for revenge was one thing. But now she had the question of whether he had had any idea that Michelle was alive. It didn't matter: his actions were unjustified. At least, they were, morally, but logically, she could not ignore that without Tony confronting Alan Wilson, the FBI would never have known about him, and Michelle might have never been found. She wasn't sure how she felt about that but was willing to believe there could have been another way. A much less destructive way. He had surprisingly accepted the deal offered by the Attorney General of a life sentence in exchange for his information rather than the death penalty. That was a pretty convincing argument that he had known, but then why had he been hell-bent on killing Alan Wilson, the person calling the shots over his wife's capture, without first ensuring she was okay or trying to rescue her?

She shook her head. There was no point ruminating when she could get all the answers she needed on the other side of the door. Renee took a breath before walking in and slamming the door behind her. Tony looked up briefly, then back down at his cuffed hands on the table. He didn't seem particularly fazed.

"Did you know?"

He said nothing and did not react in any way. Her impatience only added to her anger.

"Was this all part of your bullshit plan? Trying to get the FBI to suspect Wilson so we had reason to investigate and could find her? You couldn't learn from what you did nearly a decade ago?"

Tony looked up, squinting at her. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Although she had seen his tendency to be a stubborn ass, he didn't seem to have anything to hide, nor did he seem to be acting cryptic. His deal meant he had to be fully cooperative, so he shouldn't be holding back on anything.

"You really have no idea?"

"No idea about what?"

"She's alive," Renee said, feeling tightness in her chest. "Your wife is alive."

He shot her a look of disgust. "If this is some kind of mind game to make me feel guilty-"

She couldn't take it anymore. Sure, she believed that Tony genuinely had no idea, but she wasn't about to hold his hand, show him some photos, and make this nice and gentle for him. Losing Larry had been like a punch to the gut, and he deserved the same.

Her fist slammed on the table. "Michelle is alive, you fucking son of a bitch!" she roared. "Everything you've done has been for nothing, do you understand? Nothing! Innocent people are dead because you were too stupid to look hard enough into Wilson to figure out that he didn't want her dead: he wanted her intel. You didn't even consider that he might have faked her death the way Henderson and Emerson faked yours, and now you've really done it."

In the short time she had known Tony, she had only seen him lose his composure twice: when Jack had interrogated him and when he was arrested at the end of that long, awful day, spewing nonsense about how the government was one big wicked machine. Other than that, he had been very stoic, and spoken only when necessary with a flat, unemotional tone. Now, his head swung from side to side as though trying to consider the possibility. Renee watched his fingers twitch, the tremors slowly creeping into his whole body and causing the chains to rattle against the table.

"If you are fucking with me, I swear to God…" he said, eerily calm and slow.

Renee met his eyes. "I'm not."

"Where is she?" he said thickly. "Where is she?"

"She's in the medical ward. I'll take you to her."

He went to move, but she planted both hands on the table, leaning into his space. "Let me make one thing perfectly clear. The only reason I'm even letting you look at her is that she needs you and because I'm not going to tell her that you're going to prison: you are. You're going to have to break her heart because that is the only thing that will make you feel bad about what you did."

Renee recognised her cruelty. It was very unfamiliar to her, much like the darkness that had risen when she tortured Wilson. A part of her recognised that her loss was driving her every move here, and she hated that that made her understand Tony. She wasn't him. No matter how much it had hurt to lose Larry, she would never hurt an innocent. She would, however, guilt-trip the one responsible since it was the only thing making her feel better right now.

His cheek twitched. She'd struck a nerve. "Then let me see her."

The director from Homeland Security had had to sign off on the visitation request, so when she walked him down the hall, a row of agents stood outside Michelle's room. She wouldn't take his cuffs off until he was right outside the door, lest he try to escape with her or take his volatile emotions out on anybody else. Tony's breathing was heavy and audible. Through the small window on the door, she could see Michelle sitting in bed, hugging her arms around herself. When Tony got a momentary glance at her, he gasped, desperately going towards it. Renee placed a hand on his shoulder, stopping him so she could unlock the cuffs. 

He then burst through the door, startling Michelle a little. She froze upon seeing him, her mouth opening slightly. Tony stopped in his tracks, shocked at her weakened state. For a second, it was like they didn't even recognise each other.

"Michelle..." he whispered brokenly.

Tony rushed to her side, but Michelle tried to get out of bed at the same time, so they ended up somewhat meeting halfway, with Tony falling to his knees by the bed and Michelle collapsing into his hold. Renee observed that Michelle was leaning on the side where he had been shot, but he wasn't even flinching, too overwhelmed to care. The strangled noise Michelle let out broke Renee's heart. Tony buried his face in her hair, hushing her, telling her that he was here and that everything would be okay through his tears. He lifted her up and sat on the bed, adjusting so she was in his lap. For a moment, one she felt incredibly guilty about, Renee forgot why Tony was even in custody in the first place. Her brain refused to accept that the man Jack had interrogated three days ago was the same man tenderly and desperately consoling his wife.

As Renee looked around her, she could see mixed expressions of sympathy and hatred, not unlike her own. Most of these agents were her age or older, some married, some with children. She couldn't blame them for feeling conflicted. But ultimately, nobody could look past what he'd done — especially since Tony could no longer even justify it with grief because the dead wife he had mourned was now right in front of him. He had created so much destruction for no reason, no religion, no cause other than his own heart. 

Renee didn't realise how much she was spiralling until Agent Peters cleared his throat and went to walk inside. "Alright, it's been fifteen minutes. His transport is waiting."

"Peters, wait," Renee said, grabbing his bicep. "Just give them one more minute."

He looked at her with disgust. "One more minute? He killed a dozen of our agents, Renee. He killed Larry-"

"I-I know. I know what he did. But look at her. Let Tony explain the situation to her so she can understand."

Peters went to move, completely ignoring her, but she pulled him back by the arm.

"You will not open that door until I tell you to," Renee ordered, aware of the sudden fierce protectiveness she had gained over Michelle. "You will not take him into custody until his wife is okay. She is a former CTU agent with years of service behind her. She is one of us, not an extension of Almeida or his actions. You will give her the respect she deserves. Understood?"

"Fine," he conceded, still unimpressed by her attitude.

Renee maintained her position until the crying became quiet, and Michelle was a little calmer — although what she was about to learn would probably undo all of that.

Peters then walked in with her and a couple of other agents. Tony looked up, his cheeks stained with tears. Michelle turned away from them, her face against Tony's chest. He held Michelle tighter to his body but ultimately knew what he had to do.

"Sweetheart…" Tony muttered, tucking a hair behind her ear. "I… I have to go."

Her head shot up, and she looked at him wide-eyed. "W- What do you mean? Go where?"

He gulped, trying to maintain whatever little collectiveness he had left. "I'm… I'm going back to prison, Michelle."

"No." She breathed. "No. Not again. Please."

He shook his head, and Renee saw shame in his expression — something she didn't even think he was capable of.

"They can't do this to us." She frowned. "Can't… can't they get you out like last time? Don't they understand that whatever you did was because Wilson made you? Because of me? Isn't…" Michelle looked horribly lost as he did not confirm any of her claims. "Isn't that what happened?"

Renee pressed her lips together. Michelle didn't even know what he had done but could only assume it had been due to someone forcing his hand, that he had been fighting to get her back, that the only reason he would ever be sent to prison was something he had done to keep her safe.

"It's… it's not like last time." He kept his voice very gentle. "I had to do some bad things to get to you, but it's okay because you're safe now. These people are going to help you get better."

"But I don't want them to help me. I want you to," Michelle refuted. "H-How long are you going to be in prison for?"

Tony couldn't even meet her eye. "Sweetheart, I'm not coming out."

She gaped and started hyperventilating. The rapid rise and fall of her chest soon evolved into a violent coughing fit that Tony tried his best to help her with. Renee remembered how cold the basement had been, and it was the end of summer. It pained her to think of how hard it must have been for Michelle to have survived the depths of winter freezing, starving, and alone down there. At the same time, it was another testament to her strength.

"I'm going to need you to be strong for me, sweetheart. Really strong, okay?" he encouraged, mustering an assuring smile, but it wasn't enough.

"I-I can't. I need you to stay," she croaked. "Please, don't leave me. Please. I need you."

"I know." He cupped her face, trying to wipe her tears. "I wish I could, but I can't. I'm sorry, baby," he whispered.

Michelle mewled as he laid her back down. Again, she begged him not to leave, and Renee watched as he pressed his forehead to hers, kissing her softly. Despite his effort to convey to Michelle that everything would be okay, she didn't believe him. He had to physically stop her from grabbing onto him again; Renee couldn't imagine how much that would go against every instinct he had. As Tony started to move away, she hopelessly called his name.  He didn't look back at her, likely not wanting her to see he was on the verge of breaking down, but that only seemed to worsen things. Michelle screamed for him to stay, that she needed him, that she was scared. She lunged forward with more strength than Renee had seen from her thus far, trying to follow him. She made it a few steps before falling to the floor, crying out in pain. Even then, she tried to go towards Tony again.

"Take care of her, please," Tony said urgently, momentarily grabbing Renee's arm before the agents tried to cuff him. "I know I don't deserve it, I know that, but she doesn't. Don't let her be alone. You're the only one I can trust." There was a desperation to his voice, and he continued beseeching her as he was moved down the hall. The last thing he said stuck out to her, that he apparently trusted her.

Renee turned at the sound of thundering footsteps. A couple of the nurses were trying to hold her down. Michelle shrieked, kicking, punching, doing whatever she could to fight them off. Renee panicked, knowing that if she wasn't already terrified enough, having people try to restrain her the way Wilson's men likely had wouldn't help.

"Get away from her!" Renee yelled, grabbing one nurse by the shoulder.

The tone of her voice must have been authoritative enough because they all backed away, leaving Michelle wailing in a way that made Renee wonder whether lying and telling Michelle that Tony was dead would have been better. Just as she had been given some assurance of her safety and that she could trust the FBI, the world had been swept from under her.

Renee sat cross-legged in front of her, deliberately leaving a gap so she didn't feel crowded. She was blinking rapidly, and it looked like she was forcing her eyes open with every instance. All she could muster was a ragged, repetitive noise. Every breath made her whole body convulse.

She turned to one of the nurses. "What did you do to her?"

"I-I sedated her. It's not working," he answered.

As she went to reprimand him for doing it so forcefully, he apologetically pointed out that without it, Michelle might undo her stitches.

Renee looked at Michelle again, realising that she was fighting the drug with everything she had, something she had likely learned during her capture.

"Michelle?" Renee said quietly.

Michelle lifted her head to look at her.

"I… I know this is very overwhelming for you. I know you're upset, and I know you're scared. But the nurse has given you something to help you sleep."

She shook her head fervidly.

"I-I know you don't want to be sedated. I know you don't want to be in a position to let anybody do anything to you without you knowing." Renee hardened her voice to sound more affirming. "But I promise you, you're protected here. Can you trust me, please?"

She looked her in the eyes determinedly, trying to decide if she could. In an instant, she collapsed like a rag-doll, having allowed the drug to work. Renee caught her as she did so, and they helped her back into bed.

Renee stood and looked at Michelle. She wondered how Jack would view this situation if he were here. She would like to think that despite Tony's crimes and betrayal, he would still find it in himself to help Michelle. Renee also considered what Larry would make of all of this. She was so used to him standing beside her that she almost went to say his name, wanting to ask him what to do. But there was only one agent left standing sentry outside her room. She was reminded that she was alone, a lump forming in her throat. Renee walked as fast as she could down the hallway, her grief hitting her harder than before. There were far too many memories flooding her mind. She was reminded too dearly of her time undercover. She was thinking about Larry and everybody else who was dead because of Tony. She was thinking about Jack. Most of all, she was thinking about what would become of Michelle. Renee got to the bathroom just as the first tear fell down her cheek. She clasped her hand over her mouth, stifling a sob.

She didn't know what to do. She didn't know what right or wrong was anymore.

But she knew she would use everything in her power to do what Tony had asked of her.

When Renee eventually walked out of the stall, she was glad to find herself alone. She looked at her reflection, observing how bloodshot her eyes were. Her mascara was all but gone, as was her other makeup, minimal as it had been, so she splashed her face with cold water. It woke her up a little, but she had been awake for so long that she knew it wouldn't last. She wanted nothing more than to go home. But unfortunately, she was still somewhat in charge of the FBI and was too concerned about Michelle. Despite her clear distrust of everybody unfamiliar to her, Renee was aware that she was something of an exception. So, she couldn't let her down by leaving so suddenly. Renee decided she would try to help Michelle be comfortable around the nurses so she could feel safe.

She came down the hall towards the medical ward, finding two agents standing sentry outside Michelle's room. Renee looked through the small window and noticed that Michelle was still asleep, for which she was glad.

"Schmidt, do you mind telling me when she wakes up?"

He nodded.

Renee then went to the bullpen. She checked in on as many people as she could, aware that she hadn't been a very active AIC since Michelle's rescue. Janis was still there, but she had been avoiding her; she had been ever since she had tried to prevent her from interrogating Wilson. He was recovering in a nearby hospital, a decision that had coincidentally been made before they found Michelle which gave Renee solace. A couple of agents were interrogating him there, and although Renee had low expectations, she still wanted to know everything.

"Did Wilson say anything more?" 

Janis shook her head. "Not really. Especially since his ability to speak is a little… impaired."

Renee looked away. She had gotten a couple of things out of him, which had made it worth it. But not enough. Not nearly enough if what Tony had claimed about him was true, that he had been behind the Sentox conspiracy and countless others.

"Maybe Michelle will give us something useful when she's up for it," Janis suggested. "She's our most promising lead."

"Has anyone figured out how she was taken?"

She brought up a file on her screen. "It took a bit of digging, but it looks like she was taken to a hidden CIA medical clinic after the bomb to keep her safe. Almeida was probably supposed to be there with her. But Wilson's people ambushed the clinic and kidnapped her." 

"Considering the whole point was to pin David Palmer's assassination on Jack, why did he go to so much trouble to take her?"

Janis lifted a shoulder. "She was a high-ranking federal agent. Maybe he learned she was alive and decided her information would be useful to him."

That theory explained why Michelle had been very overwhelmed when Sunny had asked her questions during the exam. Even though she had spoken calmly and slowly, Michelle had become distressed quickly.

Renee found herself glancing at the medical ward again and noticed Schmidt walking towards her.

"Dessler's waking up. The nurse just checked her vitals and gave her something to eat. You can see her."

"Thanks. I'll be there in a second."

"You're a little attached to her, aren't you?" Janis asked after he walked away.

"She's innocent in all of this. She doesn't deserve to be punished for what Tony did." Renee spoke more emotionally than intended, but she was sure Janis already knew why this hit a little close to home for her.

Janis nodded without looking at her. "Go see if she's awake. I'll let you know if I need anything."

Renee returned to the window. Michelle was sitting up, rubbing her eyes as the nurse placed a tray of food in front of her. Michelle blinked a few times, looking around expectantly before hanging her head in resignation. Her expression of disappointment made Renee feel a pull in her chest. After the exam, Sunny had offered Michelle something to eat, but she had refused, seemingly preoccupied with waiting for Tony. However, as Renee observed her now, she suspected there was more to it. Michelle eyed the food with interest but bit her lip, keeping her hands in her lap. It was like she was trying to stop herself from eating it. After a moment, she decided to take the chocolate chip cookie.

Hospital food was rarely appetising, but someone malnourished and starved surely wouldn't be this picky. However, when Renee realised the cookie was the only packaged item, everything fell into place. It was why Renee still couldn't drink vodka and watched her drink like a hawk when she went out, even if Larry or Janis was by her side the whole night. It was why Renee never wanted to see a bowl of borscht or a plate of blini again, even though she enjoyed the taste. It was why Renee didn't like eating out as much as she used to and was still a little sceptical of people cooking for her. Larry had been the only exception. He had validated her fear and not been offended by her loss of trust because he had recognised it was about the world, not him, personally. Renee was sure Tony could help Michelle like Larry had her, but he wasn't here to do so.

She turned down the hall towards the vending machine, putting in enough money to retrieve a few protein bars, some juice, and a few water bottles, ensuring the packaging was intact. A bittersweet smile crept across her face as she thought about all the times Larry had brought her those bars when she hadn't kept anything else down.

Renee knocked, asking Michelle if she could come in.

There was a faint yes from the other side.

She came in, shutting the door behind her quietly before walking to her bedside. "How are you feeling?"

Michelle shrugged. She still looked upset, and her eyes were fixed on the tray. True to her suspicion, Michelle had eaten the cookie but still hadn't touched anything else. At this distance, there was no doubt: Michelle was analysing what was in front of her.

Slowly, Renee sat on the edge of the bed.

"He used to drug your food, didn't he?" Renee asked gently. "That's why you won't eat anything that could have been tampered with."

Michelle looked up at her with surprise before nodding a little.

Renee placed the protein bars and bottles on the tray. "I've just gotten these from the vending machine. Nobody else has touched them besides me."

To her joy, after a moment of hesitation, she took one of the bars and unwrapped it. She ate quickly, her hands trembling from hunger. Michelle consciously tried to slow herself down when she made it halfway through the second bar.

"Do you want me to get you anything else?"

She thought about it before shaking her head.

"Just let the nurse know when you're hungry again, and I'll get you some more."

Michelle made a noise of assent before finishing the second bar and placing the wrapper neatly on the tray next to the first. She unscrewed the water bottle, took a generous swig, and then did the same with the juice. Renee was glad to have helped.

"Agent Walker?" she said quietly after some time.

"Yes?"

"What…" Michelle took a breath. "What did Tony do?"

What hadn't Tony done was what Renee wanted to say. But she reminded herself very quickly that this poor woman had no idea. Michelle's memories of the first time Tony went to prison were all she could use to try to deduce his crimes now. Although Michelle deserved the truth, Renee couldn't give it to her. One, she couldn't risk overwhelming and upsetting Michelle again, not after before. But she also couldn't tell her, wouldn't tell her, because she believed, bitterly, that given Tony had done all this for nothing, telling Michelle the truth would be his only real punishment — besides not being able to support her when she needed him the most. Renee wasn't sure when that conversation would happen, perhaps when Michelle was eventually well enough to visit Tony in prison.

"You deserve to hear it from him," Renee answered.

Michelle seemed dissatisfied with this. "He… he said it wasn't like last time. What did he mean by that?"

She sighed. Maybe she would have to explain some of it after all. "Tony didn't know you were alive until we found you. Everything he did was for revenge, not to rescue you."

Even though Michelle still had no clue of what everything was, that alone gutted her. Renee wondered if she had been too blunt, whether she should consider being more tactful, not wanting to ruin the memories of Tony that Michelle had held in her mind.

"Look, I know how it sounds-"

"No," Michelle said, cutting her off with surprising conviction. "Don't… don't defend him. Whatever he's done, if it wasn't even to find me, then there's no excuse. I… I can't think about it right now." Her bottom lip started wobbling. "I know it makes me a bad person to say this, but I still miss him and love him, no matter what. But that doesn't mean you have to defend him for me."

"He's your husband, Michelle; of course you love him. That doesn't make you a bad person. None of what he did was your fault."

Michelle inhaled with a shudder and started to weep. Renee passed her a box of tissues and tried to console her.

"I don't know if this helps in any way, but… if Tony hadn't tried to go after Alan Wilson," Michelle visibly flinched at the mention of his name, "we might not have found you."

That seemed to matter somewhat, but the emotions that had arisen were already exhausting her, so Renee didn't want to press the issue. 

"Why don't you try to get some more rest, Michelle? I can come back later if you want to be alone for a while." 

She wiped under her eyes and nodded before lying back down. Renee stood, taking the discarded food and rubbish with her.

When she got to the doorway, Michelle spoke again. "Are you going to visit Tony?"

Renee turned to look at her. "I'm not sure when, but yes, probably."

"If you do… c-can you tell him I love him? Please? I didn't get to say it before."

She nodded. "Of course, Michelle."

The door buzzed, allowing Renee into the holding room. She noticed Tony already seemed anxious, having known she was coming to see him, his eyes widening when she looked at him. It was still an adjustment to see him not trying to conceal his emotions or putting on some tough-guy act. However, Renee was sure he still did his best to seem calm and unaffected around the other guards or prisoners, lest they recognise Michelle as his one vulnerability, but alone in this room, she was the only connection between him and Michelle, so he was very interested in what she had to say.

Renee sat across from him. "Technically, I'm supposed to ask you more about Emerson's crew, but that's not going to happen, is it?"

He said nothing for a moment, confirming her suspicions.

"How…" he started, "how was she after I left?"

"They, uh, they had to sedate her. She was hysterical."

Tony nodded glumly.

"She keeps asking for you when she wakes up. She misses you." 

Tony squeezed his eyes shut like he was trying not to cry. "What do you tell her?"

"That you can't be with her right now but want her to take care of herself. I've told her nothing about why you're here," she admitted. "But I did tell her that you didn't know she was alive, which, to be honest, shocked her enough."

He didn't say anything, just nodded in understanding.

"But she's okay. She… she's eating now and starting to trust the doctors."

"G-Good. She needs to eat. God, she felt like nothing when I held her." He tutted. "She's wasted away so much."

Hearing the caring fuss in his voice reminded Renee just how far Tony had gone and would continue to go for Michelle. She didn't even think he was capable of doing anything malicious again. She recognised that all he wanted to do was take care of Michelle. Michelle was all he had left to live for, but he couldn't even be there for her right now.

"Had I known she would react like that, I would have told you not to let her see me," Tony said with a frown. "S-She was so distressed, and then I practically pried her off of me. The look in her eyes when she realised I wasn't staying…" He hissed, unable to finish his sentence.

"The only way we could get her to do her checkup was by telling her that she would get to see you," Renee explained, to which Tony nodded again. She then placed the file she had brought on the table, clearing her throat. "I've, uh, I've got her medical records here if you want to look through them. It was good that Doctor Macer happened to be there because Michelle recognised her. She was very gentle when she examined her… "

He opened the folder as her sentence trailed off, scanning through details. His fingers shook as he turned the pages. She bit her lip as she watched one of his tears fall onto the paper. Of course, he had probably made an educated guess about how Wilson had hurt her, but to see it in writing, described so clinically, was different.

"Michelle's a fighter. Even now… I still see that in her. She stands up for herself. Even if she's upset, she defends herself. You're right to be proud of her."

"Where's the rest of it?" he muttered, brushing over her sentiment. "Where's the rest of the rape kit report?"

She pressed her lips together. She had hoped Tony wouldn't notice the missing page but shouldn't have expected anything less than full scrutiny from him regarding a report about Michelle. "They didn't want you to see-"

His head shot up immediately, speaking with a tone that sounded like a warning. "Did Wilson do it?"

Renee sputtered.

"Yes, or no, Renee, did Alan Wilson rape my wife?" he asked thickly.

She cleared her throat, reciting the report from memory since it was the only way she could answer without losing her composure. "The report indicated the most recent assault was two days before her rescue. They found multiple DNA matches, one of which was Wilson."

One of his fists clenched but his voice was steady. "Most recent, as in… more than once?" 

Renee swallowed the lump in her throat. "Based on what Michelle told us and what the doctor observed… s-she was assaulted almost every day from when she woke up in the compound until the FBI found her."

He slammed his hand on the table hard enough to make it rattle, and Renee could hear him breathe heavily, reacting as profoundly as he had when she told him Michelle was alive. She could tell he was trying to fight back sobs, and she couldn't blame him, feeling far too much empathy.

"Who did this to you?" Larry asked, shaking her almost manically to jolt her out of shock. "Renee, tell me who did this to you. Was it Laitanin?"

She confirmed his belief hoarsely, no longer capable of hiding her torrent of sobs from Larry or the other agents involved in the raid.

Larry became furious, turning to bark orders at another agent. "Where is he?"

The agent looked sorrowful. "W-We don't have him in custody, but we have the rest of his crew-"

"That's not good enough. You fucking find him right now, I swear to God."

"Agent Moss, we need to-"

"We need Vladimir Laitanin in custody," he insisted, and nobody dared to protest. "Am I clear?"

Larry softened his voice, turning his focus back to her and stroking her hair as she clung to him. "We're going to do everything we can. We're going to find him, I promise you, Renee."

Thanks to Tony, Larry would never have the chance to fulfil that promise now. Renee would be lying if she told herself she didn't think about Laitanin, where he might be, and whether she would ever have to go undercover again. She supposed that was unlikely now since she didn't have much of an FBI career left. The fact that she had at least been able to detain Wilson after what he had done to Michelle made her feel a degree of resolution she never thought she would have. 

Tony took a breath, hardening his voice as much as he could. "What's happened to Wilson? Where is he?"

She made a hesitant face. 

"I'm not going to go beat him up, Renee; just please tell me he's nowhere near Michelle." He spoke calmly enough to convince her he wasn't lying.

"No, he's not near her. He's in the ICU at a different hospital." 

He looked up at her, confused. "I hit him maybe twice before the FBI showed up. How did that put him in the ICU?"

"It wasn't because of you," Renee answered quietly. "He was moved to the ICU after his interrogation."

Tony snorted. "Jack still managed to put him in the ICU when he could barely stand? Why am I not surprised?"

"Jack's not the one who interrogated him."

"Then who did?"

She looked away. "Me."

He said nothing, and when she mustered the courage to return her gaze to his, he was stunned.

"I figured you for more of a rule-follower."

Renee lifted a shoulder. "After everything you did that day to get to him, the least I could do was make him talk."

"Did he?"

She huffed. "No. Not enough, at least."

Tony nodded. "Thanks anyway."

Saying you're welcome felt wrong; she hadn't done it for him. She had done it to try to cling to her belief that Wilson could be punished after so many others had gotten away with everything. The reason why she had kept going, and going, despite his blood splashing onto her clothes and his screams that she could still hear, was so she could find something to make it worth it. A piece of evidence. A name. An explanation for why he had done such treacherous things and yet dared to claim he served his country. She got a couple of small things the FBI could have probably found themselves. But he had mainly informed her that he would deny every accusation she threw at him, that he had no idea what she was talking about, that she was clearly mistaken and holding an innocent American hostage, and that her actions were unbecoming of a promising young woman — it was around the time of that last statement she started to block out what she had done to him.

The guard buzzed the intercom to let her know that the FBI was requesting her return, so she stood and made to leave. Renee paused to tell him one more thing. 

"Michelle wanted me to tell you that she loves you."

He smiled slightly.

"I appreciate you looking out for her. And for, uh, not telling her about the details."

She sighed. "She doesn't need to suffer more than she already is. But she also deserves to hear it from you."

He looked down into his lap with a nod. "I… I know I'm asking a lot of you to take care of her, but I appreciate it, and I'm sure she does, too. I just- no matter how much punishment I deserve… please don't take it out on her or let anyone else take it out on her."

"I'll look after her, Tony," Renee said with enough assurance that his shoulders relaxed. "I…" She let out a breath. "Even if she wasn't connected to you in any way, it's clear that I'm one of the only people she feels comfortable around right now, and I took an oath to keep people safe. So that's what I'm going to do."

"Thank you," he said gratefully.

The corners of her lips upturned a little. "You're welcome."

Renee adjusted her sleeping position for the umpteenth time, sighing at her restlessness. She knew her insomnia had very little to do with physical discomfort and much more to do with her thought-brimmed mind. Work-life balance really didn't exist for FBI agents. She might not actively be on any cases, but she was thinking about Michelle. Renee was pretty sure that was also why her nightmares about Laitanin had returned, except now, she would sometimes see Laitanin killing Larry, the image of his body hyperrealistic from her memories. She wished she could stay at the FBI twenty-four-seven, but unfortunately, she was still human, and humans needed to sleep.

Her phone buzzed against the nightstand, and she grabbed it quickly. There was something almost funny about how federal agents were conditioned to hear a ringing phone and answer it with so much urgency, even before they knew what it was about.

"Walker."

"Hey, it's me," Janis greeted.

Renee detected solemness in her voice, making her sit up and switch the light on, more alert than before. Something was wrong. She would have just told her outright if she needed to come in, so it couldn't be that simple.

"Janis, what's wrong?"

"It's Michelle," Janis answered regrettably. "She's been transferred to the ICU at Saint Elizabeth's. The nurses found her blue; they think she tried to OD."

Renee placed her hand to her chest. "How the hell did that happen?" 

"She's been stashing her sleeping pills."

Tony had been taken to prison about a month ago. Renee had spent every free moment possible with Michelle. Her paranoia had subsided a little, depression rising in its place. Her appetite wasn't particularly great, and she didn't speak much unless required but usually never let it get to the point of being forced to do anything. Still, Renee believed her presence made an impact. More than that, Renee had been monitoring Michelle's well-being for this precise reason. Staying in the FBI medical ward was very isolating for her. It was the last place someone who had been held captive for six years should be. But there was still a threat to her safety. While Wilson couldn't do anything in his state, there was no telling how many people worked for him, how many knew about Michelle, and whether Michelle herself had any information about them that made her a target. In any case, this was an absolute shock.

"I told you under no circumstances was she to be moved. The FBI is the only place that can keep her safe-"

"The doctors said they didn't have enough on staff and weren't equipped to treat her," Janis informed her stiffly. "And I figured you didn't want her where Wilson is at Saint Martin's, so I made them take her to Saint Elizabeth's, which is further away."

She was grateful that Janis had considered that, but her worry about Michelle only grew.

"H-Her husband. He needs to know-"

"It's alright, Renee. I've already asked the warden to bring him down since it's… life-threatening."

Renee thanked her for doing so and hung up before getting out of bed and freshening up. So many years of midnight wake-up calls meant she was very efficient at this, so she was in her car before she knew it, her thoughts running wild. 

This couldn't be right. Renee trusted her intuition. Michelle might be miserable, but not enough to want to do something like this. But now, Renee was second-guessing everything Michelle had said and done since her rescue. Maybe Renee just didn't know her well enough. Renee knew her file. Renee knew she had been an upstanding agent and didn't deserve a shred of what had happened to her. But Renee hadn't known her for very long. Maybe Michelle had been planning this since she learned Tony couldn't be with her. Michelle could have been hiding how she truly felt, pretending to be doing a little better so that she could end her life without anyone trying to stop her.

When she arrived at the hospital, she noticed the prison transport van was already parked there, to her relief. Tony's presence would probably frighten the other people at the hospital, but she didn't care. As Renee walked to the ward where the receptionist had directed her, she saw Michelle was already in recovery. She was still unconscious, and there was an oxygen mask covering her face. Tony was sitting in a chair beside her, listlessly rubbing her hand with his thumb. Several guards from the FBI and the prison were in the hallway. A doctor was standing next to Tony, likely explaining what had happened. She was pretty sure Tony wasn't processing much of it. 

When the doctor exited the room, Renee introduced herself to him before asking about Michelle's condition.

"She's very lucky the nurses found her when they did. Her pulse was barely there, and she aspirated when we pumped her stomach."

"Will she be okay?"

"Physically, yes, she can be discharged tomorrow evening. But I can't let her go back to the FBI."

Renee furrowed her brow.

"Given what she's been through and what she's just tried to do, I'm recommending she be moved to a psychiatric ward."

"What? Doctor, with all due respect, I know she needs help, but you don't understand her situation." She gestured to the room beside her. "She was imprisoned for six years against her will. You can't put her somewhere without a window and expect her to be okay. More than that, we don't know how many people are after her. We need to protect her, and we can't do that effectively outside our facilities."

The doctor sighed. "She tried to take her life, Agent Walker. We need to protect her from herself."

Before she could protest again, she heard a whimper and turned to see Michelle waking up. Renee came closer to the doorway, not wanting to intrude on their privacy but needing to understand what was really going on.

Michelle seemed disoriented, frantically trying to move her oxygen mask from her face.

"Hey… hey…" Tony said, stopping her hand from moving it. "Sweetheart, it's okay. You need that because you're not breathing right."

When her eyes met his, something lit up in her. "You came," she murmured. She still sounded quite drugged up, so much so that she wasn't aware of her unfamiliar surroundings, solely focused on Tony.

He pursed his lips, still clearly overwhelmed by having nearly lost her again. "Michelle… they told me your heart stopped. Please… don't do that again, sweetheart. You scared me."

"I'm sorry." She sniffled. "I… I needed to see you."

Tony kissed her knuckles. "I-I know, baby, but I need you to promise me that you won't try to hurt yourself again, okay? Promise me that you'll let them help you get better. Then you can come visit me."

Michelle reached out to him as much as she could, her limbs slightly numb. It was hard for him to hug her in return due to the cuffs binding his wrists and ankles. As they tried to make it work, Renee noticed that no matter how he was sitting, Michelle remained in constant physical contact with Tony, knowing that every second here was precious. He managed to move the chair as close as possible to lean over without towering. She twisted her neck so she could nuzzle her face against his. Renee understood that all she wanted, all she needed, was the familiar touch of someone who cared about her. It was staggering how her demeanour changed when Tony was around. It hurt to think that all she needed was to be held by her husband, but she couldn't even have that.

But what stuck out to Renee was that Michelle didn't seem surprised that Tony was there. Michelle had said you came like she had been expecting to see him, which meant she had expected to wake up. There had to be more to it. Maybe her gut had been right after all. Maybe this wasn't what it looked like.

Renee turned to the doctor again.

"Can I see her chart?"

"Sure," the doctor agreed, passing it to her.

Something was off here, and she was determined to find it. She flipped through each page, carefully trying to examine the details.

"The nurses accounted for ten missing pills, but she only took five... the rest were in that drawer," Renee muttered. "She was only a little over her usual dose."

"Given how underweight she is, that's probably all it took."

But then why only take half? If she had been trying to end her life, she wouldn't have risked failing since the nurses were watching her so much to start with. Her chances of replicating this would be minimal now. Maybe that was just it. Maybe Michelle had been trying to fail, but why? She couldn't have known she would be transported to a different hospital. But she could have tried to estimate how many of her pills would be enough to cause a scare, enough to risk her life so that Tony would have had to be informed and maybe, just maybe, permitted to see her. As soon as Renee thought about it like this, she realised how much sense it made. Michelle missed him with all of her heart. She wasn't well enough to visit him, so she tried to get him to visit her.

"She didn't try to kill herself."

The doctor furrowed his brow. "What?"

"If she had tried to kill herself, she would have held onto more of her pills. She wouldn't have risked it not working. I think…" She took a breath. "I think she just wanted to see her husband. Michelle knew that if she was taken to hospital or if there was a significant threat to her health, then they would have to tell the prison to bring him."

"Agent Walker, this is-"

"Trust me. I know what she was trying to do." 

A couple of the guards brushed past her into the room, stating that the visit had only been to ensure Michelle was okay and nothing more.

Thankfully, Michelle wasn't too distressed — probably because of the sedative. "You're going to have to go, aren't you?" Michelle said glumly, not asking the question but stating it like a fact.

"Yeah," he whispered, kissing her forehead. "I'm sorry."

"That's okay," she mumbled, closing her eyes. "Love you."

He took one last moment to cup her face and kiss her. Renee faintly heard her tell him that she loved him, too. When Tony walked out, she noticed his eyes were still wet with tears. She couldn't imagine how scared he must have been when he'd heard the news and come so close to losing her again. Tony didn't say anything to Renee, seemingly wanting to maintain his composure.

"Let me prove it to you," Renee said to the doctor. "If I can get Michelle to confess that that was what she was trying to do, will you let me take her back to the FBI tomorrow?"

"Agent Walker, are you talking about interrogating her?!"

The phrase 'confess' was too embedded in her vocabulary. She realised the implications of how she'd phrased that. "No, God, no. She'll tell me the truth if I ask her to. I know she will. She feels safe around me."

He huffed. "Fine. But if I see the slightest sign of distress, I'm taking you out of there."

Renee walked through the door and greeted Michelle with a small smile. She sat next to the bed where Tony had been while the doctor stood behind her.

"How are you feeling?" Renee asked.

Michelle lifted a shoulder but didn't speak. Now, Renee could tell she was waking up a little more. Her eyes darted around the room, and she looked at the doctor with scrutiny.

"We have plenty of guards here, Michelle. You're safe," Renee informed her. "But I get it… you just want to go somewhere that you know." She glanced at the doctor and then back at Michelle. "The thing is, Michelle, that I can't take you back to the FBI where you were before."

Her brow creased.

"The doctor and nurses here are saying you tried to take your life. They want to take you to a psychiatric ward, but I don't want them to do that because the FBI can't protect you that way," she explained. "And more than that, I know you're not as far gone as everybody thinks. You've still got it. You're still the agent in the file that I read about. Which is why I think…" Renee kept her voice gentle. "You took those pills for another reason."

Michelle looked into her lap.

"You tried to make yourself sick so you could see Tony, didn't you?"

There was a beat before Michelle nodded.

"I'm sorry," she croaked. "I-I just needed to see him."

Michelle looked very ashamed, her body tensing. Maybe she believed she would be punished somehow for doing this. It was messed up, but it made sense. After all, Renee knew what it was like to try to stay on a volatile person's good side.

Renee looked to the doctor, who seemed to believe her claim, before taking Michelle's hand.

"I appreciate you telling me, Michelle," she said gratefully. "You'll have to stay here for a day or so, then we can take you back to the FBI. I'll try to get Doctor Macer to come by as well."

Michelle bit her lip, her anxiety still apparent. She wasn't quite ready for a totally unfamiliar environment, even temporarily.

"Do you want me to stay with you?"

Her head lifted. "If you don't mind," she answered. "I… I'm sorry. I know it was wrong of me, and you're upset-"

Renee shook her head. "I'm not upset, Michelle. I'm glad you're okay and got to see Tony," she affirmed. "But it doesn't change that you're afraid and want some familiarity since you probably didn't expect to wake up here."

"Thank you," Michelle said quietly.

The doctor pulled her aside as Renee gave the nurses room to set up a cot next to Michelle's bed.

"I'm sorry for not believing you, Agent Walker. I can see that you've been very good to her during such a difficult time," he said sympathetically. "

"Thank you. I… I've been with her practically every day since she was rescued. I knew there was something more to it."

"Well, you were right."

Renee then settled into bed, surprised at how much of her adrenaline had disappeared. The mattress was rock-hard, but she somehow felt more content resting here than in her bed. She looked at Michelle beside her, the disappointment creeping into her face.

"I-I want him back," Michelle said woefully as the lights were dimmed.

"I know…" She sighed. "I know you do."

"Why couldn't anybody have found me before he did those things?"

"I'm sorry, Michelle. I wish I knew."

It would be a while before Michelle was well enough to visit Tony in prison. But Renee hoped she could keep her spirits up in the meantime.

After being discharged and permitted to return to the FBI medical ward, Michelle was supervised heavily — even though it had been established her overdose had not been a suicide attempt. Renee, too, paid extra attention to her demeanour, wanting to support her in whatever way she could. The fact that Michelle still trusted her and Doctor Macer over anybody else helped justify her staying at the FBI when she should really have been prosecuted for torture and grievous assault against Wilson by now. Homeland Security had plenty of qualified people on the case; the FBI wasn't as short-staffed anymore. But Renee clung to whatever authority she could, pointing out as many times as necessary that this conspiracy spread far and wide through the government, so it was prudent that multiple agencies work on the investigation.

Still, her priority was Michelle, who was more miserable than before, unsurprisingly. Being stuck inside with the ward's harsh, artificial downlights didn't help. If it wasn't for the fact that Michelle was still too weak to walk more than the length of the hallway and that they didn't have security to spare, Renee would ask the doctor to let her get some fresh air in a wheelchair. Renee did what she could, though. She brought her fresh flowers and snuck in snacks from the convenience store so she didn't always have to eat hospital food. She bought her books and found an old monitor and a DVD player to keep her entertained, anything to distract her from the hopelessness of her circumstances, at least for a moment. But it wasn't enough. Really, it felt patronising, acting like she could help Michelle move on with such trivial things. There was only one thing Michelle wanted, and she had played her one card to see Tony, so she really had nothing that mattered except eventually — and at this rate, it would be months — being able to visit him in prison.

Renee pleaded with the warden and directors from Homeland Security to make some kind of accommodation, insisting it wasn't just for Michelle's well-being but for the good of the case. Michelle had more promising information on Wilson than anybody else but could not share it if she didn't feel safe and well. So, they agreed that Michelle and Tony could speak on the phone once a day, so long as their call was monitored. It wasn't quite the same as a face-to-face visit, but Renee hoped it would give Michelle something to look forward to.

When Renee told her the good news, Michelle was incredibly grateful, which reminded Renee just how much she had been deprived over the last six years, how she appreciated every little thing she had — even if she didn't have what she wanted the most. 

She was holding her phone, sitting on the edge of Michelle's bed. The earpiece that would relay the call was already in her ear. When it rang, Michelle's breath hitched, like she wanted to be excited but couldn't bear to hope it was really true, that she would get to hear him, until she heard it for real. 

Renee answered and took a moment to confirm that she and the warden could both hear before he passed the phone to Tony, and she passed her phone to Michelle, who took it as quickly as her shaking hands would let her. She held it very tightly to her ear, likely because it made her feel closer to Tony and because of her hearing damage.

Even though she would hear every word, Renee still decided to give Michelle some privacy by returning to her office. The nurses were still around. She didn't need to be watched like a hawk twenty-four-seven.

"Michelle?" Tony answered.

She sniffled. "Tony…"

"How are you, sweetheart?" he asked softly.

Michelle took a moment to answer, still so overwhelmed to hear his voice. "I'm…" She took a breath. "I'm okay. What about you?"

"I'm fine. You don't need to worry about me, okay? I just want you to worry about getting better."

She was breathing shakily now, and Renee felt a pang in her chest.

"Are you eating and taking your meds like the doctors are telling you?"

"Y-Yeah." 

"Good. That's good. Are you sleeping okay?"

Renee happened to be walking down the hall when she heard the scream. At this hour, it could only be a nightmare. She walked in, adjusting the dimmer so Michelle wasn't in the dark.

"Are you okay?"

Michelle had her knees to her chest and was breathing heavily, trying to calm herself down. When she finally looked up after a few minutes, her cheeks were stained with tears.

Renee's expression softened. "I used to get a lot of nightmares, too. They're terrible, I know."

She nodded.

"Do you want me to stay with you until you fall back asleep?" It always used to help her when Larry did that, knowing she wasn't alone.

"Y-You don't have to…"

"It's no trouble." Renee smiled a little.

Michelle looked right at her. Her eyes narrowed with apprehension, but only for a moment.

"Thank you," she said quietly. "I… I don't trust many things right now, but I feel like I can trust you."

"I… I'm trying. But I keep getting bad dreams, and then I wake up all alone, and I…" She let out a sob and heard Tony sigh.

"Please… don't cry, baby," he said weakly, and Renee could tell he was struggling to maintain his composure. "It's okay, they'll stop soon."

"I just want to go home with you."

"I know… I know… me, too."

He hushed her as she kept crying, and Renee found herself wiping under her own eyes.

"How about I stay on the line until you fall asleep? Do you think that might help?"

They technically hadn't agreed to this, but Tony knew they were listening in and could object if there was an issue. Renee certainly didn't have any problems, and it thankfully seemed the warden didn't, either.

"If you can," she whispered.

Renee heard the sheets rustle as Michelle laid down.

"Are you still there?" she asked, despite only a few seconds having passed.

"Yeah," Tony affirmed quickly. "I'm here, Michelle."

"I love you." 

"I love you, too. I love you so much, okay?"

At this point, Renee had to remove the earpiece to stay collected. All of her guilt and grief was rising to the surface again. She wondered what Larry would think of her, that she was actively accommodating the man who had killed him. He had been buried two weeks ago but hadn't brought herself to go to his funeral, believing herself unworthy and not wanting to face judgement from his family and even more government officials. Renee had told herself she would take some flowers to his grave, but she found an excuse not to go each time an opportunity arose.

Tony and Michelle continued to talk to each other but to Renee's, and she was sure, Tony's consolation, Michelle's breaths eventually slowed down, and her replies became mumbles. Renee walked to the ward about ten minutes later and confirmed that Michelle was asleep, tightly clutching the phone. She dimmed the lights for her and prayed that she would get some decent rest tonight before returning home herself, less worried for Michelle than usual.

They continued having regular calls over the next few weeks, which benefited Michelle significantly. She had fewer nightmares. She was more receptive to the advice of the doctors and nurses. She was even getting to the point of being able to recall key facts about her capture that aided with the investigation. Renee continued to stay by her side when she could, though, both because she wanted to but also because she didn't want Michelle to think her companionship was conditional on her providing information, which simply wasn't true.

Right now, she was trying to follow a money trail through some of Wilson's (declared) financial records. Janis had highlighted some similar shell company names between him and Jonas Hodges, indicating a possible link between them. Since Hodges was already being investigated, this connection could give some probable cause for digging further into Wilson. Unfortunately, even the files they could get from Wilson were not easy to interpret and sift through, sometimes being plain red herrings or containing Trojan viruses. But Renee really had faith in this one, if only she could get it to work.

"Are you looking at his off-shore accounts?" Michelle asked.

Renee turned to her, surprised that Michelle had figured that out just from the program open on the screen. "Yeah, I am. Well, I'm trying to."

"We used to use something similar at CTU. Do you… I used to be good at this, would I… would I be able to try?" 

There was a slight excitement in her eye, and Renee was more than happy to give her something to do.

"Go for it," Renee encouraged, passing her the laptop.

Her movements were initially hesitant, but she soon started working away with an intensity Renee hadn't seen from her before. Renee watched the dedicated agent slowly shine through and couldn't help but feel a surge of hope. Michelle seemed more focused and confident than ever before. Or, at least, based on the time she had known her. If Michelle could do this, maybe she could help with some other work, too, but probably not anything too closely related to her capture — at least, at first — some things would need to happen when she was stronger. For now, though, getting into computer files that provided the concrete evidence they desperately needed could be huge for the case and her well-being.

Michelle smiled in a way that Renee had also never seen.

"I-I think I got it," she said, rotating the laptop so she could see.

Renee laughed in disbelief before taking it from her. It was exactly what the FBI wanted: a clear link between Wilson and Hodges. "You… you have no idea how much that helped, Michelle. Thank you so much."

She sent the evidence to Janis, who was just as pleased and impressed. When Janis offered her something else to do, Michelle eagerly accepted. Renee wondered if this was something Michelle could do full-time or even part-time down the track. Having this kind of purpose, independent of Tony, would be very beneficial for her. Even Tony was giving more information than before — not that he had much choice — but he was more motivated to help. It was like he actually believed it might make an impact, giving Renee a glimpse of the Tony that Michelle and Jack had known. Kim had called her a few days ago to inform her that Jack would be in rehabilitation for quite some time but that his treatment had otherwise been successful.

With all of these positives, Renee could let herself feel a little bit brighter about the future and maybe, just maybe, believe that not all was lost.

At the same time, she still couldn't relinquish her dread that everything could fall apart at any moment.

Michelle's ability to give testimony strengthened faster than Renee expected it to. The progress was not linear; sometimes, she pushed herself too far and would shut down for a few days. However, Michelle's determination did not falter. She was aware of her impact on the investigation, recognising that her information served the greater good. With this purpose, she was physically and mentally improving in a way that shortened her deadline for discharge from the hospital. There was still the matter of ensuring she was more than adequately protected, but it would be a big step. Soon enough, Michelle would be able to see Jack, too. Renee hoped that Jack could help Michelle feel a little less alone, and vice versa, since he didn't know she was alive yet.

Renee sat on the edge of Michelle's bed, transcribing her description of Alan Wilson's typical comings and goings. 

"There was a woman, once. I don't think she was supposed to see me, and I don't think she had any idea who I was, but… "

Michelle trailed off suddenly, and Renee looked up, surprised and concerned by the change in her demeanour. She was staring at something behind her. It was like she was looking straight through her. Her breathing had shortened up, and her body was tense. In just a few seconds, Michelle almost looked as spaced out and afraid as she had when the FBI had found her all those months ago. When Renee turned to locate the source of her fear, she felt her blood boil.

What the hell was he doing here?

When the bastard dared to smile back (Renee wasn't sure if it was intended for her or Michelle; it didn't matter), she gripped the blanket beneath her tightly.

"Let me find out what's going on. You're safe here. That's not going to change," Renee implored, and Michelle nodded, but the anxiety was still clear in her expression. She had never felt more compelled to keep Michelle safe.

Renee walked to where Wilson was lying on a stretcher. His neck was still in a brace, and he still had a considerable amount of bruises. Somehow, she was both proud and ashamed of this. Regardless, he was not exactly mobile, so why he was out of the hospital was beyond her.

"Peters, why is Wilson here?" Renee demanded, not particularly caring whether Wilson heard her.

"The hospital was getting overcrowded. We were kicked out."

Renee stared at him in disbelief. "And you didn't pull rank?"

He shrugged like it wasn't a big deal. "They didn't want a high-profile suspect in their hospital. It's not protocol to keep suspects in different hospitals when we're equipped to take care of him and have enough security."

"Wilson's not going to hurt random people, but he has hurt Michelle."

Peters gestured to Wilson. "Walker, relax, alright? Right now, he can't even hurt a fly, and he'll be in another room anyway. He's not going anywhere."

She pointed at him, her voice stern. "I don't care if he can't do anything; you keep him away from her at all times. Am I clear?"

"Fine," he agreed, holding his hands up defensively.

She returned to Michelle's room, closing the door. Her eyes hadn't left Wilson.

"Hey…" Renee said quietly to bring her attention back to her. "He won't be anywhere near you."

To her dismay, it didn't seem to put Michelle at ease. She didn't just look worried; she looked hurt, betrayed.

"Why is he here?" she whispered. "You… you said he wouldn't be here. You said he wouldn't be near me."

"They couldn't keep him at the hospital. I'm sorry, Michelle, I don't like this, either. I'm going to do everything I can to get him transferred."

Michelle's breathing was rapid as she curled up, no longer interested in continuing her debrief, which Renee was more than happy to stop. She tried her best to keep her grounded, but it was hard when she was so hyperaware that the man who had hurt her was just a few doors down. Michelle was squeezing Renee's hand fiercely, the way she had in those early days. Renee was ready to ask someone to bring the rest of her things from her office into the ward. She didn't want to leave Michelle until she could give her more assurance.

But just as she went to call Janis, there was a knock on the door, and Renee looked up to see her through the glass. Michelle was mostly comfortable around Janis, but Renee still asked if it was okay for her to come in. Michelle nodded but didn't seem to care very much.

Renee got up and let her in. When Janis looked at Michelle, she bit her lip sympathetically. "There's an interagency conference call in five minutes. They need you in the boardroom."

"Now? Is there an active threat?"

"I don't think so. Just more bureaucracy about who's running what."

She huffed. "Can't they postpone? I can't leave right now."

"DHS Director Douchebag- Sorry, Dorman is insisting. He wanted me to remind you that the only reason you're still here is him."

If he took her disobedience as an excuse to get rid of her, she wouldn't be able to move Wilson. She had to go.

"Damn it..." Renee muttered. "Tell him I'll be there in a minute."

"Alright."

She turned to Michelle, who still hadn't let go of her hand. "I won't be long. I'll lock your room from the inside," she assured. "Everything will be fine. As soon as I'm out, I'll ask them to transfer Wilson."

But none of that seemed to comfort her. "Renee, I'm scared," she said in a very small voice.

"I know." She swallowed the lump in her throat. "I know. I'm sorry."

Michelle didn't even respond, and when Renee left, she couldn't ignore how wrong it felt to be doing so. She felt like she was letting Michelle down, going back on all her promises, even though, logically, she knew this wasn't her fault. Ultimately, she had no choice, not if she wanted to be able to stay with Michelle until her discharge.

Every minute of the meeting felt like hell. She had to remind herself to concentrate and assert her lingering authority wherever possible. The meeting thankfully finished a little early, which made Renee smile, knowing she could get back to Michelle. As people started leaving the boardroom, her phone rang in her pocket. It was the medical ward, which immediately made her stomach sink. The fact that they were calling her and hadn't just sent someone down to get her meant something had to be wrong. Very wrong.

"Agent Walker, we need you down here immediately," the nurse answered with a tone that worried her further.

She ran as fast as she could back to the clinic. Michelle wasn't in her bed, and Renee's gut told her she wasn't just in the bathroom or somewhere else trivial. A doctor, some nurses and a few agents with their weapons drawn stood practically paralysed outside one of the other rooms: Wilson's. When Renee shoved past them to enter, she found herself dead in her tracks, too.

There was blood.

A lot of of it.

Michelle stood before what Renee didn't doubt for a second was Wilson's body. From behind, Renee could see she was clenching a pair of medical scissors tightly in one hand. Her arms were bloodstained from fingertip to elbow. Her whole body trembled, but Renee believed it was fear, not rage. She tentatively stepped closer for a better vantage point, unable to determine Michelle's mental state but not wanting anybody else to take charge. Renee made no move to touch her or anything else. Unfortunately, the trained agent in her was already thinking of this as a crime scene that she could contaminate with her DNA. Michelle stared blankly ahead at Wilson as though checking he was truly dead. There was a large crimson splatter on the front of her hospital gown. The sound of each blood droplet falling to the floor was starkly loud compared to the shocked silence.

Wilson was another story. He had enough stab wounds that Renee was sure she would need more than two hands to count them. In his state, it was unlikely he could have defended himself. He reeked of blood. It bloomed from his eyes, his throat, his chest, his stomach, and his groin. Renee was shocked at the depth of the wounds and how much strength must have been needed — more than she thought Michelle was capable of. She shuddered to think of what the security camera footage would show. All the colour drained from Renee's face when she realised that Michelle would indisputably be charged with his murder. She couldn't blame her. Not at all. If she had the chance to do this to Laitanin — or even just castrate him — she would do it in a heartbeat. But there would be no self-defence claim here. The law would see this as an act of revenge, even though Renee knew that wasn't the case.

This was the act of someone who didn't trust anybody else to protect her and felt she had no choice but to take matters into her own hands.

Renee grabbed a handful of tissues and gently took the scissors from her hand. Someone gasped behind her as she did this. To Renee's relief, Michelle did not resist. Michelle then looked up at her and blinked. A bead of blood fell from her eyelash onto her cheekbone.

"Let's get you cleaned up, okay?" Renee said clearly but calmly.

Michelle nodded after a beat, allowing Renee to take her by the hand and lead her out of the room.

Renee didn't know what was going to happen. All she knew was that she had to protect Michelle at all costs.

Not from Wilson anymore, but from the FBI.

Renee looked over at Michelle again, who hadn't moved. After Renee had helped Michelle to change into a clean hospital gown and bagged the bloody one as evidence, she had simply sat on her bed and hugged her knees to her chest, blankly staring in front of her. Michelle hadn't responded to anything, not even her name. Renee prayed that this was just some kind of shock related to Wilson's death, not a permanent setback. Thankfully, though, Michelle's silence served for her own protection because she couldn't answer any questions about what had happened. The doctors and nurses hadn't seen the incident unfold, so they couldn't incriminate her, either. However, the security camera footage painted a very clear picture of Michelle waiting for Wilson to be alone, grabbing a pair of medical scissors, and doing the deed. The angle had made it hard to see Michelle's face, but it was impossible to deny that she had done it. Renee had insisted that Michelle wasn't restrained or interrogated in any way for the sake of her mental well-being, going so far as to lock herself in Michelle's room with her. She had had to answer a lot of calls, going over the situation again and again. But this barricade wouldn't hold forever. There were a few ways this could go, and every possibility posed a great risk to Michelle, which concerned Renee deeply.

However, what concerned Renee most of all was that Tony didn't know yet.

Renee knew she had to be the one to tell him. News this big felt like it should be delivered in person, but she had no intention of leaving Michelle. Her phone rang again, and when Renee saw it was the warden, she realised it was the usual time Tony and Michelle were allowed to talk. Renee glanced at Michelle and knew that Tony's voice might be the only thing that shocked her out of this state. At the same time, if she confessed to something or otherwise said something that could be used against her, whatever chance she might have of escaping prosecution for Wilson's murder would disappear. 

"I'm just walking to Almeida's cell now. I'm assuming Michelle's with you?"

"Actually… she's already fallen asleep," Renee fibbed. "But if it's alright with you, I need to ask Almeida something about the case. Privately."

"Oh, sure," he agreed. After so many nightly conversations, the warden trusted Renee. Besides, it wasn't like she hadn't asked Tony for information over the phone like this before. "I'll switch off my earpiece and the recording function on the phone so you get a secure line." There was some fumbling as he did this, and she faintly heard the warden explain the situation to Tony before he walked off.

"Hey, the warden said Michelle was already asleep. That's good. What did you need to ask me about?"

Renee took a breath. Her hesitation was enough for Tony to know that something was wrong.

"Renee, what happened?"

"S-She killed him," Renee said quietly. "Michelle killed Wilson."

"What? How the hell?-"

She huffed. "They transferred Wilson back to the FBI. She was terrified. I left her alone for-"

"What do you mean you left her?-" he growled.

"I-I didn't have a choice," Renee said apologetically. "I came back as fast as I could. When I found her… it was too late."

He started to breathe faster. "T-Tell her not to say anything until she gets a lawyer."

"She won't, Tony; she's non-responsive."

Tony was struggling to find his words. "They… they can't convict her of murder. They have to understand that she didn't know what she was doing, that she's not well. That she's not well because of what he did to her."

"A lawyer can argue that for a couple of stab wounds, but not fifteen, Tony," she hissed. "Fifteen stab wounds is not insanity: it's intent. That's the only way they'll see it. Believe me, I agree Wilson deserved it, and I don't blame Michelle at all. But even if the jury sympathises with her, an insanity plea means she'll be institutionalised."

He was on the verge of breaking down, but it sounded like he was trying to stay quiet.

"Put her on the phone," Tony said thickly.

"Tony, she's-"

"Just let me try," he insisted.

Renee walked back over to where Michelle was sitting. She had tried to keep her voice somewhat low, feeling like talking about her as though she wasn't there was rude. At the same time, she figured Michelle was so dissociated right now that it likely didn't matter.

"Michelle…" Renee said clearly. "I've got Tony on the phone for you."

Even the mention of Tony's name didn't seem to affect her, to her dismay. She held the phone near Michelle and put it on speaker.

"Michelle, are you there?" he asked.

She didn't seem to register the sound of his voice, and Renee pressed her lips into a thin line as her last hope disappeared. Tony asked her to respond to him again but to no avail.

"Baby, I know you're scared right now, but everything's going to be alright," Tony said desperately. "Renee's going to protect you. Just do whatever she tells you to, okay? Can you do that for me?"

Renee remembered that she had promised Tony to take care of Michelle, but at this moment, she knew she needed to come through on that promise now more than ever. 

"Michelle, talk to me, please," he begged.

A single tear slid down Michelle's cheek, and Renee's heart skipped a beat. She was still in there.

"It's okay, Michelle, you can talk to him," Renee said reassuringly. "It's just Tony. He wants to know that you're alright."

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. She tried a few times before she feebly uttered his name.

"It's me," Tony encouraged. "Yeah, sweetheart. It's Tony. I'm here."

"Home..." she said very weakly, her eyes unfocused. "Take me home. Please."

"We'll find a way for me to take you home, alright?" Tony said, trying to sound as assured as he could despite the crack of his voice. "We're going to figure this out." He sniffled. "But until then, Renee's there. You can trust her. I know she's been very good to you. I love you so much, okay? Everything's going to be fine."

Renee was sure there was nothing Tony wanted more than to take her somewhere safe, somewhere he could take care of her. That was all Michelle needed. She needed to be loved. She needed someone she could trust and be vulnerable around. She needed someone who could be by her side at all times.

Michelle managed to say that she loved him, too, and the sound of Tony crying seemed to upset her. But it indicated that she understood what was happening — or, at the very least, that Tony was worried.

As the call ended, Renee realised that enough was enough. Michelle had been failed by everyone around her, herself included. The government was not going to protect her. Wilson was a powerful man with powerful lawyers. She couldn't rely on the judge throwing the case out, and even if they did, it would likely be conditional on an insanity plea. Michelle couldn't be locked away like that, either. She was traumatised, and she had tried to protect herself in an extreme way but she didn't need to be institutionalised. Michelle was still the intelligent, brave and compassionate agent she had read about. The past few weeks of watching her help the FBI was a testament to that. Michelle opened up only if she felt safe and could trust the people around her. If Renee was there, Michelle opened up. If Tony was there, Michelle opened up. If Doctor Macer was there, Michelle opened up. If she was moved to an unfamiliar environment, be it prison or a psychiatric ward… Michelle would shut down, and her paranoia would probably make the doctors there drug her into oblivion to get her to cooperate.

Renee was suddenly aware of the limited timeframe. She gave it twenty-four hours max before a decision was made, and Michelle was transferred somewhere. Once that happened, Renee was sure her superiors would finally get rid of her, too, and prosecute her for torturing Wilson. Then she really wouldn't be able to help Michelle. Renee would feel guilty about this for the rest of her life. While, logistically, she had been trying to protect Michelle, ultimately, she had left her against her wishes, which meant she had to be the one to make it up to her. Renee recognised how terrifying it was to have so much power here, how she had to think outside the law because she just couldn't trust the system anymore. They were going to punish Michelle when she was the victim. Really, Renee had stopped trusting the system when Wilson's crimes had been unearthed. Every value she had held deep in her core, all of her faith in the government, had been crushed that day, leaving her to her own devices to form a new belief system.

All that Renee knew now was that she had to protect Michelle. She was her last hope, so she would be damned if she let her down again.

Tony had been tossing and turning for hours, too riddled with anxiety to sleep. Still, the guard's fist banging on his cell door startled him. Sluggishly, he sat up in bed, hearing the tinkling of keys and creaking of the door as it opened. There was only one guard there. Tony didn't recognise him. He looked behind himself skittishly as though he wasn't supposed to be there.

"There's been a request to transfer you to another facility," he said quietly.

"What?" Tony whispered. "Why?"

"No questions asked, Almeida," the guard replied shortly. "Hurry up."

He obliged warily, allowing the guard to restrain him before ushering him down the hall. The lights were out, and the guard took an unusual route, avoiding other prison personnel. Something about this felt off. This was the closest prison to the FBI; they had agreed to incarcerate him there due to his involvement in the investigation. He hoped he wasn't transferred too far away. The guard pushed him along insistently and seemed very nervous, which confused and worried Tony further.

What justified Tony's apprehension was his realisation that he was the only prisoner supposedly being 'transferred'. He was shoved into the back of an armoured van before the guard got in the driver's seat. Everything was almost pitch black, and no sensor lights came on. The exit gate was unsupervised, and the boom gate was already lifted. Tony tried to look out the window, but it was hard to see through the grate. He asked the guard where they were going but received no response. The van proceeded down a main road, empty at this hour, and although this seemed promising, or at least in line with what the guard had claimed, Tony still couldn't shake his suspicion. The guard soon started to take side streets, abruptly rerouting at the sight of any police cars. Eventually, they ended up on a gravel road heading into the woods. At this moment, Tony clicked.

The guard was going to kill him.

There was no doubt.

Why else would he have avoided the other guards? Why else would they be in the middle of nowhere? The investigation was mostly confidential, but if this guard had the right contacts, he could have easily learned more about his crimes. Perhaps someone on one of the planes that had crashed or in the building Galvez had bombed had been a friend, family member or colleague of the guard. Tony deserved to be punished. He knew he did. But all Tony could think about was Michelle, about how he had been the only person to break her out of that state of fear, the only person who could get through to her. She would be alone now, and he couldn't blame anybody except himself. Tony took a deep breath, preparing himself for when the guard drew his weapon. He just hoped it would be over quickly.

But to his confusion, when the engine died down, the guard made no move to get him out, instead looking down at his phone. Tony was breathing heavily now, feeling utterly defenceless. The guard opened his door, stood outside the car, and examined the surroundings cautiously. He took a few steps, going outside Tony's field of view. Tony furrowed his brow when he started to hear voices. Despite how eerily silent everything was, Tony had to strain to listen in. He recognised the guard's voice, less angry and more fretful. The second voice was familiar, but his brain refused to accept it. This made no sense.

His eyes widened when the guard suddenly slumped against the side of the van, creating a loud bang. He didn't see blood and hadn't heard any gunshots but something had obviously happened to him. Out of habit, Tony went to reach for his weapon, but his wrists were cuffed in front of him, and obviously, he was unarmed. Tony went to call out, but the back panel doors opened, and he found himself staring right into Renee's flashlight. She was wearing an FBI windbreaker, but it looked larger than usual. Tony wasn't sure if he should be happy to see her yet. 

"Renee?" he hissed.

She stepped inside and deftly unlocked his cuffs before grabbing his forearm to drag him out. 

"What the hell is going on?"

To his annoyance, she didn't respond, but her flashlight revealed another car and, more importantly, another person. She was hugging herself with her arms, the hospital gown understandably not being enough to keep her warm on such a cold night. She was also wearing an FBI windbreaker that looked a little big for her.

As he ran towards her, he nearly tripped over the guard — who, based on his brief glance, was only unconscious. Michelle took a few steps forward, and he swiftly lifted her into his arms. She let out a sob and buried her face into his shoulder, wrapping her arms around him tightly. He kissed her cheek, feeling her shake against him as she cried. He didn't need to ask Renee to know what was happening. 

They were going home. 

They were going home, and he was going to take care of her like he had promised her.

"I'm here…" He breathed, stroking her hair. "I'm right here, sweetheart."

She attempted to respond but was incoherent. Despite the relief of the situation, Tony could tell she was still very scared. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Renee drag the guard inside the van and prop him on the driver's seat. She seemed a little on edge but looked at the two of them with sympathy.

"We need to get going."

Tony nodded and turned to open the door. He didn't want to let go of Michelle any time soon, and he was sure she didn't, either, so he let Renee help them into the back seat, readjusting Michelle so she was sitting in his lap. Renee drove off with as much urgency as the guard had, and Tony didn't doubt a lot of people would be after them very soon. Thoughts about the logistics faded to the back of his mind as Michelle clutched at the fabric of his jumpsuit. Every breath she took in shuddered, and when she looked up at him, her eyes pleaded for him not to let her go, not now, not ever again. He wiped one of her tears away and tried to smile through his own.

"We're going home, okay?" he whispered.

He noticed Michelle was still shivering, and noticed a blanket beside them. Tony grabbed it and wrapped it around her. 

"I'll buy some food and clothes for both of you once we get there," Renee said. "But she can keep my jacket for now."

Tony clicked that Renee was probably wearing Larry's jacket, making him feel a pang of guilt. "Where are we headed?" he asked.

"An unlisted house used for people in Witness Protection. I've removed all traces of it from the system. It's a few hours away."

It was already very late. Tony could see Michelle struggling to keep her eyes open. She was exhausted.

"Just close your eyes and get some rest," he murmured, looking down at her. "I'm not going anywhere."

She nodded, seeming to believe him. Tony placidly ran his hand down her arm until she fell asleep, which thankfully didn't take too long. There was a sense of peace that he hadn't felt in a very long time. She was here with him. They would be safe. They would have somewhere to call home again. He had to wonder not just how but why Renee had made this happen. Sure, it was clear Renee cared about Michelle, but he hadn't expected her to take such a drastic measure. Their eyes met in the rearview mirror. She was scanning the road very keenly and likely would continue to until they got further out of the city. He could hear the radio at a low volume, guessing it was on an interagency frequency.

"It'll be a while before they figure out what's going on, so hopefully, we're away from any street cameras by the time they do," Renee reassured.

He nodded. "How did you do it?"

"Well, getting you out actually wasn't the hard part. That guard was on Dubaku's payroll. I told him that if he took you to a location I specified, then I would remove his name." Her expression softened a little. "His daughter is sick. He only used the money for her treatment." She sighed. "Then, getting Michelle out was a little trickier. I got Doctor Macer to write an affidavit saying that Michelle wasn't of sound mind, so the charges were dropped on the condition that she was admitted to a psychiatric hospital. We filled in the necessary paperwork. I told them it was important that we don't overwhelm her so she doesn't resist, and they bought it: they let me and Doctor Macer take her on our own, and well, here we are. We swapped cars, and she's running interference at the hospital."

Tony gave her a look of gratitude, shocked by what they had both done and even more shocked but relieved that it had worked. "I can't believe Sunny agreed to this."

"She's burnt out and knows that Michelle deserves better. Thank God she's been here to vouch for her. She's got a bit more plausible deniability than I do, but she'll have to hide out eventually, too. In the meantime, she's got a burner phone that you can ring if you have questions about Michelle."

He made a note to himself to thank Sunny when he had the chance. 

"I've also corrupted both yours and Emerson's financial records on the FBI database."

Tony narrowed his eyes at her. She returned his confusion. 

"I didn't think you wanted to be traceable."

"Yeah, I got that. But what do Emerson's records have to do with mine?"

"You, well, one of your aliases, was named as the beneficiary to all his offshore accounts."

He felt a clutch in his chest. "W… What?"

Renee raised her eyebrows. "You don't know that he left you everything?"

Tony shook his head. "N-No."

"Well, there's enough money there to cover the two of you for the rest of your lives and then some."

He was pretty sure David had made that decision before he found out about his betrayal. David had kept his money private, so nobody in his crew would have had access to change something like that. He realised he still wasn't used to referring to David in the past tense and Michelle in the present tense. Tony realised he must have looked very deep in thought and guilty because Renee's expression became sympathetic.

"I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you spent it on Michelle. By the sounds of it, he understood how much you care about her."

Tony sniffled, still in so much disbelief. 

"I… why are you doing this?" he asked. "You're throwing away everything just to-"

"It's for Michelle, not for you," Renee answered firmly. "I'm doing this because she loves you and needs you, and I know that you will do everything in your power to be there for her." Her voice didn't waver as she continued to speak. "But one day, when she's strong enough, she's going to have questions. She's going to wonder why she can't go anywhere without you. She's going to wonder why nobody is in contact with you both, and you're going to have to tell her everything. You won't be able to lie to her. Maybe you'll do it now for her protection while she's healing. But she knows you. She's not going to let you get away with hiding everything from her. And that's punishment enough in my eyes."

He studied her expression more closely, realising that despite the resolution in her voice, she seemed very conflicted about it. She was probably conflicted about a lot of things she had done in recent times, and he couldn't blame her. That day had to have been one of the worst days of her life. He hated himself for his part in it. At the same time, he stood by the fact that nobody would have investigated Wilson if he hadn't tried to kill him. He didn't want to think about what would have happened if nobody had ever opened the door to that basement or even if they had simply opened that door a few days too late. 

Michelle whimpered suddenly, squeezing her eyes shut and tensing her whole body. She mumbled something, shaking her head a little. Tony hushed her, brushing his hand against her cheek.

"I've taken her scripts for her medication, but get her off the sleeping pills if you can. They can make her nightmares worse, or at least… they made mine worse," she trailed off, looking back at the road.

It wasn't the first time Renee had said something like this, a specific piece of advice for Michelle's care that didn't sound rooted in medical theory but rather in experience. It made him wonder whether there was more to her motivations to help Michelle than she let on.

"You… you understand her so well," he commented appreciatively. "You seem to know exactly what she needs. I'm grateful that she's had you there."

"Well, once upon a time, someone treated me the way Wilson treated Michelle. I had to spend sixteen months undercover with him. Now, sixteen months isn't six years, but…" Renee sighed. "But it was enough for me to know I would never want anybody else to suffer like that."

"I'm sorry," he said, meeting her eyes in the rearview mirror. She looked like she was trying to decide whether to give him a dirty look or actually accept his sympathy, but couldn't make up her mind. He thought about Jack and everything he had sacrificed going undercover with the Salazars and CTU's total lack of support afterwards. He was sure the FBI hadn't treated her with any more care. They just would have seen it all as necessary.

Tony noticed that Renee's phone had rang more than once, but she had glanced at the caller ID and hung up every time. When it happened for the fifth time, she decided to explain. "It's Janis. I can't trust she won't try to trace the call even if she is genuinely wondering where I am."

She looked a little upset about it. From what he understood, they were good friends.

As they drove further away, Tony started to feel the isolation. It became apparent that he and Michelle were mostly on their own. As much as Tony had implored that all he wanted to do was take care of her, he was also aware that he hadn't really been there during her recovery so far. He was somewhat confident he could figure out what she needed, but there would also be a learning curve. She was leaning on him now more than ever before. It frightened him. Somehow, he felt unprepared. The more he thought about it, the more it dawned on him that he was entirely responsible here.

"Are you going to be nearby?"

"Yeah, I'll need to make sure nobody's coming after us," Renee said, furrowing her brow slightly. "Why do you ask?"

"'I… I don't know if I can do this on my own," he admitted. "I don't know if I'll be enough for her."

"Taking care of her is the only thing you have to do," she explained simply. "No more revenge. No more trying to find out who's responsible and how this happened. It's happened now. You can do that, Tony. She's the reason you did all of this, so prove it."

Tony hadn't expected the bluntness, but it certainly seemed to snap him back to reality. Things were going to be okay. For a start, he was here with her. That had to help. And she wouldn't need to be afraid of Wilson anymore. He wondered if she had any idea of what had happened. At the very least, he hoped that she could be at peace, knowing he would never be able to hurt her again. Tony would remind her each and every day that she was safe and that he would never let anything happen to her. He was going to make up for every second they had spent apart. He knew that while there was nothing he could do to make up for his horrendous actions, his only chance of redemption was with her. Just like her only chance of healing was with him. 

There was a biting breeze as they finally got out of the car. Michelle was still asleep. Renee gave the house a once-over, then helped Tony take Michelle inside.

"The house was vacated and serviced not that long ago, but we can get some new sheets," Renee proposed as he laid Michelle down on the bed, making sure the blanket still covered her. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he agreed, not taking his eyes off her. 

"We'll clean up the house later and get some fresh air in here as well. I'm sure Michelle will appreciate it after so much time inside."

Despite how quietly they were both speaking, Michelle groggily opened her eyes. As he went to open his mouth and tell her to go back to sleep, afraid that she might be distressed by their new surroundings, his heart leapt in his chest as she smiled softly at him. She closed her eyes again soon after, her body relaxing. She trusted him. She felt safe because she was with him. They were home. How many years had he gone without seeing her like this? He would give everything to have this moment with her forever. Tony leaned down to kiss the top of her head, closing his eyes. It was quiet enough that he could hear her heartbeat.

Tony almost forgot Renee was still there until she cleared her throat. He turned to face her. Her eyes had crinkled.

"I'm going to head out and get set up at my safe-house. I'll pick some things up for you both. If I need anything, I'll text. I don't want to wake her."

He nodded. "Thank you," Tony whispered. "I… thank you so much." 

"Just don't make me regret it, Tony," Renee warned. "Take care of her."

"I will."

Tony had curled up on the bed facing Michelle, quietly watching her sleep. He still couldn't quite believe it was real. To have her next to him was almost overwhelming. He grounded himself by listening to her breathe and watching her chest rise and fall. She hadn't had any other nightmares since the one in the car; he hoped it would stay that way. He wanted to believe that his presence would heal her, but he also knew he couldn't be too naive. It was going to be a long road to recovery for her, but he didn't care. He also knew that road would have its bumps and that recovery was not going to mean things would be like they had been before that horrible day. Things would never be the same. Not just Michelle's physical and emotional state but the state of their relationship, too. When she found out what he did… it would be very difficult for her to accept. He just hoped that she didn't blame herself for any of it.

By the time Michelle blinked her eyes open, the sun was shining through the windows. Renee had already returned with one bag of essentials, mainly clothes and toiletries. According to her text, she was doing a grocery run and wouldn't be much longer. Tony brushed a hair back from her face. They stayed there for a moment, simply staring into each other's eyes. 

"You sleep okay?"

She nodded. It didn't seem like she wanted to go back to sleep, and she still felt a little cold.

"How about a shower to warm up?" he suggested, his voice slightly cracked from lack of use.

She nodded again.

"Let me go run the water, and then I'll help you, okay?"

Michelle seemed to agree with that, so he got up, stopping only to kiss her on the forehead. But when he returned to the bedroom after quickly cleaning the shower and stripping down to his boxers, she was still dressed, albeit sitting on the edge of the bed rather than lying down. There was a hesitant look on her face, and she still had the blanket draped around her. 

"Hey…" Tony said softly, bending down in front of her. "What's wrong?"

She looked into her lap, and he took his hands in hers. Somehow, he didn't think she would talk any time soon. He thought about what she had been through over the last day, and then key phrases from her medical report came to mind. What was he thinking? Of course, she wouldn't be comfortable with this yet. 

"Michelle, if you want, I… I can try not to look while I help you. I understand if you're not comfortable," Tony explained.

Michelle lifted a shoulder, still not looking at him. He started to think about whether he had made a grave mistake in their physical interactions, whether he shouldn't have been so quick to touch her if she wasn't ready yet. At the same time, Tony believed she would have reacted in protest, at least with her body language, if she was uncomfortable. He hated how helpless he felt, how terrified he was of upsetting her.

"I…" he went on, finding himself choking up. "You know I would never touch you or do anything to you without your permission-"

She shook her head as if to say that wasn't it. She slightly straightened her posture so the blanket slid below her elbow and revealed her forearm. Michelle used her other hand to point at a thin, elongated scar. He could also see a handful of small dried bloodstains that Renee must not have gotten to at the time. Ton realised he hadn't really seen much of her body besides her arms and calves. He imagined this scar was one of many.

Tony used his hand to cup her cheek and tilt her head so she could meet his eyes. "Sweetheart, nothing can change the way I look at you," he said emphatically.

The shameful look on her face made his heart ache. She shrugged the blanket off and tried to undo the clasp at the back of the hospital gown. Her fingers were shaking too much, so gently, without breaking his eye contact with her, he helped her take the gown off, revealing her pale, scarred skin. She draped her arms over his shoulders and started to sniffle quietly. He rubbed her back in small circles, feeling the protrusions of her collarbone, ribcage, and hip bones against him. He wanted to hug her more to ground her, but he genuinely feared he would dislocate or break something. Something about feeling her bones poke his skin made him hurt. It had less to do with the physical discomfort and more to do with the unfamiliarity. He was used to feeling her soft curves, cupping her full cheeks, and running a hand through her curls. But she was so hollow, so fragile, so… lifeless. She would heal, he told himself. She had to.

"You're beautiful, Michelle," Tony said. "You're beautiful. It's over now. He won't hurt you again."

He continued to reassure her, holding her close to him to comfort her and keep her warm. Eventually, he stood, helping Michelle to her feet and walking her into the bathroom. He checked the temperature of the water and took off his boxers before stepping in. Michelle was leaning most of her body weight on him, likely both due to the current weakness of her physical state and due to a need to feel close to him. He used his hands to help wash her, trying not to think about the source of every scar, all the sick, inventive ways they devised to hurt her. After realising that she was struggling to stay upright, they sat down so her back was against his chest. He started washing her hair, pursing his lips as he realised how much was falling out. Renee had bought an expensive-looking shampoo designed for strengthening hair, which he hoped would help over time.

When they were both clean, he silently sat under the water and held her until the hot water started to go. There was something so peaceful and intimate about it that it was almost moving. Tony murmured reassurances endlessly, almost incoherently, but his words seemed to mean everything to her. It still worried him that she wasn't speaking. He had missed hearing her voice. He realised that those phone conversations hadn't just been beneficial for her but for him, too. Tony reminded himself that this was temporary. He affirmed his belief that she just needed time to settle in, and then she would open up. He wouldn't force her to try. He wouldn't force her to push through anything. This was her recovery. This was a time for her to take back her autonomy.

However, what amazed Tony was that a simple change in her facial expression or body language told him so much. Somehow, he still knew what she was trying to communicate, even without words. Tony helped her get dressed, then proceeded to do so himself, glad to be rid of his prison jumpsuit. He paused at the feeling of Michelle's hand on his shoulder. Confused, he turned to face her. She looked him up and down for a moment before lightly tracing her thumb over the scar on his chest from where Henderson had injected him. She did the same thing to the more recent and noticeable scars at his waist and on his wrist, as well as the other smaller ones, mostly from other gunshot wounds and knife nicks over the years. Her hand found the old scar on his neck, making her lips curl. Finally, she cupped his cheek and slid her hand up towards his hair. She probably hadn't seen it this short since the first time he was in prison. Her eyes spoke a thousand questions about every scar, every change, every second they'd spent apart. 

Before he could attempt to say something, he heard the front door opening. Michelle must have, too, because she moved her hand away and allowed him to finish getting dressed. 

When they both walked into the living room, Renee was carrying several more bags, and he could smell maple syrup.

"I've brought breakfast," Renee said, placing the bag on the table and revealing the IHOP logo. "I figured you're both probably tired of toast and cereal. I've got some more protein bars if you want those instead, Michelle."

Tony recalled Renee mentioning Michelle's recurring paranoia around food and how it was always worse when she was anxious. He wouldn't blame her for wanting to cling to her safe foods after so much had happened. But after thinking it over, Michelle shook her head, seemingly okay with pancakes. Tony was grateful she trusted Renee so much.

Michelle smiled a little at him with a knowing look, and he couldn't help but smile back. They had gone to IHOP for their first date after their original dinner plan had been spoiled by a bomb threat, resulting in them finishing their shifts at four in the morning. The fact that she seemed to be thinking of this made his heart leap in his chest.

Renee looked between them, laughing through her nose. "I'll, uh, leave you both to it then."

As they sat down and started to eat, Tony found himself watching her again. All they were doing was eating breakfast together, and yet he was almost moved by it.

Michelle tilted her head at him, the corners of her lips slightly upturned. 

"I've just missed you so much," he explained.

She leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. It was such a simple gesture, but this moment was one Tony would hold in his heart forever.

Michelle had gone back to sleep, so Tony had quietly been putting groceries away. He turned at the sound of quiet footsteps, finding Michelle rubbing her eyes, half-asleep, but her expression seemed troubled. It was like she had woken herself up for a particular reason. Tony said her name quietly, but Michelle just started walking around the house in a very purposeful way. She tested door handles and window latches, investigating every corner of every room. He followed her but tried not to make it seem like he was chasing her. Still, her hands started to shake, and she became worked up very quickly. When she turned to look at him, she was very concerned.

"Hey…" Tony said softly. "What's wrong?"

Michelle tried to speak, but every time she opened her mouth, the words just didn't come out. As she persisted, she became more upset, and he hushed her, leading her towards a chair. He knelt down in front of her, trying to get her to focus on him. He realised she was probably awake enough now to have a lot of questions, namely where they were and why. Even if she seemed at ease knowing he was there, nobody had told her much about where she was going, or she had been too out of it to register.

His heart broke as she continued trying but failing to speak. He quickly went to the shopping bags, hoping Renee had bought some stationery. He managed to find a pen and some sticky notes, immediately returning to her side. Michelle understood what he was trying to do and took the pen and paper from him with shaking hands. She leaned over to the table and wrote very quickly.

Where are we?

Tony cupped her face. "We're somewhere safe. This is going to be home for a little while."

Her eyes crinkled when he said home.

"I-I know it's hard to be somewhere new, but Renee and I are here for you. She's just setting some things up. She'll be back later."

Michelle nodded, her breathing becoming more regular as he continued explaining that everything was okay. She probably didn't remember much of the last day or so, so it made sense. It appeared that smile from before had only been a product of whatever dissociative state she'd been in after killing Wilson and perhaps a bit of assurance at being with him. No, this was going to be their reality: clarifying and assuring every possible thing for her because anything uncertain would make her anxious and start to doubt who she could and couldn't trust. She needed a rock. She needed someone to depend on. And that person had to be him.

He managed to get her to eat a little, but not as much as he would have liked. It was obviously correlated with her unease. As soon as she left the table, she started pacing around the house again. He turned the TV on and suggested very warily that she should get some rest, hoping to distract her for a while. She wouldn't respond to him but let him take her by the hand to sit on the couch. She was very antsy but seemed to settle when he sat beside her. He went to put her arm around her, but instead, she moved to sit in his lap and rest her head against his chest, the way she had wanted to that day in the hospital. He kissed the top of her head and held her closer.

Sitting with her did the trick, and by early evening, she had her head in his lap and was asleep again. Renee called him, the phone vibrating against the side table.

"How's Michelle?" Renee asked. 

Tony pulled the blanket over her to cover her more. "She's alright, I think," he replied quietly. "I, uh, I don't think she quite understands where we are and what happened, but she's asleep again, so I guess that's good."

"Did she eat?"

"A little. But it was hard to even get her to sit down. She kept pacing until I told her I'd stay with her."

"Did she ask you where we were?"

Tony looked at the assorted sticky notes beside him. She had written a few more to communicate to him throughout the day. He picked up the note that said I love you on it. He was so taken aback by the familiarity of seeing something as simple as her handwriting again. Even if the stroke was a little jagged from the tremors of her hands… it was the same as it had been since the first note she left on his desk at CTU.

"She didn't speak, but she wrote a few questions. I… I think she mostly got what I was trying to say. It calmed her down."

"That's fair enough. Sometimes, she would go non-verbal after her panic attacks, especially the bad ones. Given what happened, I don't blame her."

He hummed in understanding.

"You said she's asleep. Has she had any nightmares yet?"

"No, why?"

"Tony, there's something you need to understand," Renee said with a warning tone. "Because you haven't been around to see the kind of nightmares she has now. I wanted to explain this to you before, but there was just so much going on, and I didn't get the chance."

He looked down at Michelle, and the silence made Renee sigh.

"I'm not talking about what happened in the car. That was nothing. I know you mentioned she used to get them sometimes, but these are different. You have to be ready because it's going to scare you, but you can't let that affect how you handle it." 

Her voice wavered, and Tony wondered, not for the first time, how hard it must be for her to see someone suffering the way she once had. 

"She's going to scream. She's going to scream in a way that you've probably never heard before, and you're going to have to hold her. You're not going to cry. You're not going to react in any way other than telling her it's okay. She might try to hurt herself. She's going to kick and hit and do what she can to get away from you because she's not going to know it's you, even when she opens her eyes. She needs to hear your voice. She needs you to tell her where she is. And you're not going to be able to do that if you're freaking out."

He nodded. "I understand." He didn't sound very convinced, even to himself.

"Look, I… I'll be there in about an hour. Let me finish up, and I'll come stay the night."

"Alright."

Tony managed to wake Michelle up and ask her if she wanted anything for dinner, but she shook her head, so he let her fall back asleep, figuring she needed it. He finished up what he could, then carried her to bed. Renee showed up, and the look of apprehension on her face made him nervous and incredibly doubtful of his ability to take care of her.

He tried his best to ready himself mentally, but what he pictured in his head was nowhere near the horrors of reality. It started small, like the one she had in the car, just a slight look of discomfort on her face and a tightening of her grip on him. He did what he had done then: hush her, rub small circles on her back, and quietly urge her to go back to sleep. But it terrified him to see it escalate so quickly and with so much intensity. Before he knew it, her body started jerking. She was pushing him away, but she was still asleep. Tony said her name once, twice, three times, but it didn't work. Michelle shook her head, and despite giving her space, she still managed to punch him in the stomach hard enough to wind him. 

"Michelle, wake up," he rasped, then attempted to harden his voice. "Please, it's just a dream. It's okay. You're home."

Renee must have heard him trying to talk to Michelle because there were frantic footsteps down the hall before she came in. When Michelle's movements became more pronounced, he tried to intervene and shake her by the shoulders. She was stronger than she looked: she moved back from his touch like he was a hot stove.

"What are you doing?!" Renee asked as he tried to grab Michelle's shoulder again.

He turned his head, feeling Michelle move beneath him. "You said to hold her."

"Not like that. Get her off her stomach." Renee pulled him back, and before he could ask her why, Michelle started screaming loud enough to drown out his thoughts.

It was a loud, anguished sound that he would never forget. She was begging desperately for it to stop and screeching like she was being stabbed. Only now, standing beside the bed, could he see the way she was clenching to keep her legs together, spasming and kicking the blanket off her. Her face was screwed up as she cried out, curling up as much as she could to defend herself with a death grip on the sheets. It made him want to throw up. It was one thing for her to dream about being tortured or taken from the hospital. It was another thing for her to dream about the car bomb. But this… to relive this with such specificity in a way that consumed her whole body and took all five of her senses back there made him wish — not for the first time — that he had killed Wilson back there in the warehouse. It would have spared Michelle from feeling the need to do this herself, but he also understood that she had probably needed to for her own closure. And, admittedly, if he was the only one with murder charges behind him, they wouldn't be here. Renee had made that very clear.

He was so confronted by the sight of Michelle, but he felt absolutely powerless to stop it. It was wrong. He was supposed to be able to save her. He should have saved her when it happened for real. He let this sear permanently into his memory as a reminder that if he hadn't spent so much time fucking around, he could have figured out what Wilson was really up to. He hated that he was just standing there uselessly. He was afraid to touch her. He was afraid that he would just make things worse, and he had never felt more pathetic in his life.

What made him feel better but heightened his insecurity was seeing Renee sit down on the edge of the bed, unfazed by her violent, unpredictable movements. She gently manoeuvred Michelle in a way that she seemed to respond to. It seemed almost impossible to think that Renee's actions were so minute compared to Michelle's, yet they seemed to penetrate the nightmare. He realised that Renee had probably done this many times for Michelle while she had stayed at the FBI. He also recognised that Renee's own experience meant she probably knew what was and wasn't a good idea. She had said these nightmares were different, and Tony could see that clearly now. Holding her tightly to try to ground her didn't work when all she was trying to do was defend herself. 

"It's okay, Michelle. I'm here. Tony's here. You're safe." 

Her voice was soothing but lacked the worry his had. He admired Renee for her selflessness here because even as she was wiping tears away with one hand — not Michelle's, her own — from being so affected by seeing her, she was, ever so gently, stroking Michelle's hair with the other hand. Michelle was still moving, but less than before. However, just that simple gesture, combined with her voice, calmed Michelle down. The silence left behind after she stopped screaming was deafening. Tony still hadn't moved, just watching her chest rise and fall.

Renee grabbed one of the blankets Michelle had kicked off and draped it back over her before standing beside him and sighing.

"Thank you," he whispered.

"I know it was instinct to hold her down, but don't grab her like that again. Unless she's actively hurting herself, you can't restrict her movement. She won't know the difference between someone trying to help her and someone trying to force her in place. And especially not on her stomach. When they assaulted her, they pushed her down on her stomach." Her voice raced, and she paused to take a breath. "I… I should have clarified when I told you, I'm sorry. It's just- I know what she went through. I've been doing this for months."

He didn't resent her for that. There were so many details about Michelle's care. It was perfectly human for her to have not told him everything.

"Are…" He gulped. "Are they always like this? Are they always this bad?"

Renee shrugged. "For a while, she was getting better, but any time something new happened or if she pushed herself, it would get worse. It makes sense, given everything that's happened. This… this is about average."

Average? He had barely managed to work with this, and it wasn't even the worst of it? If there was one thing he thought Michelle needed, it was his presence, and… it hadn't even helped.

"She didn't even hear me." He acknowledged with a slight frown. "She didn't respond to my voice."

Renee gave him a surprisingly sympathetic look, pressing her lips together. "She probably… she probably just needs some time to register that you're here for her now. I don't think it's that you didn't help. It's more that…" She shrugged vaguely. "She doesn't realise you're real. At least… not in that state of mind."

He nodded, letting that reminder of his prolonged absence humble him. He wasn't her hero anymore. She needed more help than just him.

"You care about her so much," he said quietly. "You… you have every right to hate her because of me, but you don't. And you have to know how grateful I am for that."

She lifted a shoulder. "Because it's not about you. It's about her and what she's been through. She still deserves to be taken care of."

"I know it's about her and not me. I just- I know she got lonely in the FBI, and I wouldn't have blamed you for giving her the cold shoulder, but you didn't, and it means a lot."

Tony still hadn't taken his eyes off Michelle, and now he noticed something else.

"S-She keeps making that noise," he muttered. "It sounds like she's not breathing properly."

The noise in question was somewhere between a wheeze and a whimper. Michelle's face was tensed like she was in pain. She was still crying in her sleep.

But as he looked at Renee, she shook her head.

"We thought that, too, the first night she slept at the FBI. It's nothing concerning. It happens more when she's distressed. She has damage to her windpipes and vocal cords from…" She struggled to finish the sentence. "From... everything. Her lungs are weak as well. Based on her x-rays, they think she caught pneumonia at some point. It's… it's a miracle she's alive."

Tony nodded, remembering that from the medical report. He felt like an idiot for not being able to recall every detail off the top of his head like Renee could. He felt like more of an idiot for still being afraid to go near Michelle. Tony couldn't imagine sleeping after seeing her in such distress. So, he simply knelt by the bed, resting his arms on the mattress. He had to resist the urge to push away the hair that had fallen into her eyes, even though Renee had just done the same thing earlier.

Renee seemed to know he was scared. "You can touch her, Tony," she said, and he did, very lightly, kissing her knuckles.

To his relief, Michelle didn't move. Tears were still pricking the back of his eyes, but he did his best to keep them contained. Or, at least, keep them quiet. The last thing he wanted to do was wake her. 

Tony watched Michelle sleep for the next few hours, while Renee went back to the other bedroom. Michelle blinked her eyes open early in the morning but didn't stay awake for long. Tony figured having such horrific nightmares would decrease the quality of the sleep she so desperately needed. He struggled to stay awake, too, and he half-nodded off, still kneeling beside her.

He was woken by somebody putting their hand on his shoulder. He blinked his eyes open to see Michelle looking at him with confusion and concern. She probably hadn't expected him to be on the floor.

He cleared his throat. "You had a nightmare. I wanted to stay up and watch you to make sure you slept okay."

Her lips pursed slightly as her thumb came to his tear-streaked cheek. Damn it. He didn't want her to worry about him. He hoped she was only noticing this now and hadn't heard him during the night.

"It scared me to watch you go through that, sweetheart," he explained.

Michelle's hand moved to graze his. 

They stared at each other for a long time, and he became aware that he was the one who needed reassurance right now, not her. It just made him feel worse. He wasn't supposed to be adding to her worry. She wasn't scared. She was calm. She probably barely remembered it. He made the slightest motion towards the bed, silently asking her permission, and she nodded. Tony then got back into bed beside her very slowly, and she snaked her arms around his waist.

"I'm here to keep you safe now," he whispered. "I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere."

Michelle squeezed him tighter like she had needed to hear that. Still, all it did was make him realise that even though it was his job to care for Michelle now and that he had gotten what he had wished for, Renee had had a greater role in Michelle's recovery than he had realised. He had been right to trust her from the beginning.

Tony honked the horn in protest again, hunching his shoulder to press his phone against his ear. The volume was on full, but the dial tone was still barely audible compared to the intensity of the pattering rain against the windshield. He left another message to ask Michelle to call him back, practically yelling over the noise. More than anything, he was worried. He had told her he would only be gone for forty-five minutes at the very most, but nothing had seemed to work in his favour. The closest pharmacy hadn't had stock of her medication, so he had had to drive further out. That pharmacy had been insanely busy, so he had spent ages in line. Then, there had been a fallen tree on the main road to their house, which had held up traffic. He would be lucky if he made it home two hours after he left.

He decided to call Renee since she was currently closer to their house than him. Thankfully, she picked up within a couple of rings. 

"Hey, what's up?" she asked. Tony could hear just as much rain in the background of her call.

"I'm really sorry to have to ask you this, but can you please come to the house and check on Michelle?"

"Is something wrong?"

"I… I'm not sure. She's not answering the phone," Tony explained. "I went out to refill her anxiety medication, but the traffic's bad because of the storm, and I don't think I'm going to make it home any time soon." 

"Why didn't you ask me to go?"

He sighed. "You've been up for two days straight. I didn't want to bother you while you slept."

"Tony, when it comes to something like this, you can always ask me for help if it means not leaving her alone."

He hadn't wanted to leave her, not when she'd explained to him so feebly that she wasn't feeling well, but he'd known the medication would help her and she hadn't seemed to object to him going out to get it.

Tony turned his head at the sound of quiet footsteps padding into the living room.

"I don't feel well," Michelle said. It was a little startling to hear her voice; she really hadn't spoken at all since they'd arrived at the safe-house.

He immediately stood and came over to her. "What's wrong?"

"I… I don't feel well," Michelle repeated.

"Where, sweetheart? Are you in pain?"

"My head." 

"Okay, do you want some Tylenol?"

Michelle shook her head. "My head," she said with more emphasis.

He continued to ask her more questions, but all she could keep saying was that it had something to do with her head. His lack of understanding seemed to frustrate her. Only as she got more upset did he notice the other changes in her demeanour. She was digging her nails into her palm. She was breathing shallowly. She was trembling. She wouldn't stand still and seemed very restless. She kept looking around. Now, he understood. When she'd said her head, she hadn't meant it in the sense of physical pain but emotional distress. 

She took a low dose of anti-anxiety medication every day, as she had since her rescue. The doctors at the FBI had initially put her on a much higher dose while she had been settling in. Then Michelle had insisted she didn't like the way she felt when she was too heavily sedated. Renee had understood and fought for her, so they had compromised on a smaller dose that wasn't as effective at stopping her from panicking but did enough to make an improvement. However, for times like these, when she was on the verge of having a panic attack, she had a stronger medication that worked more rapidly.

But as Tony went to the medicine cabinet, he cursed under his breath as he realised they were all out. He remembered now. When Renee had gone home a couple of hours ago, so exhausted from being awake that she had nearly fallen asleep standing up, she had off-handedly mentioned to him that they needed to restock a few of Michelle's medications. This was one of them.

Tony returned to the living room where Michelle was. He was going to have to leave her. Renee was in no position to be alert, and it was almost the end of the day; pharmacies would be shut soon. Renee didn't live too close to them. She wasn't far, but not exactly next door, and for good reason: if she was compromised and found by the authorities, he and Michelle would have time to run, and vice versa.

"Michelle," he said, trying to get her to look at him. Her anxiety was even more apparent now. "I have to go get your medication from the pharmacy. I'll be back soon. Forty-five minutes tops. Just try to rest or get some more sleep. Okay?"

To his dismay, she didn't seem to respond or react to any of that, only informing him again that she didn't feel well. He repeated himself, hoping she would at least hear keywords, but he couldn't really tell if she was understanding him. Tony grabbed a blanket and draped it over her shoulders, guiding her to sit on the couch. He told her everything one last time and wrote it down, emphasising that he would be back, and only then did she nod slightly.

As Tony stood at the door, the look she gave him made him feel in his gut that this wasn't a good idea, but he didn't see any other options, so he left.

Renee seemed to agree that leaving her home alone was something that Michelle wasn't ready for yet, which only made him feel worse. Tony recognised he still felt guilty asking for help from her, which was ridiculous given that she had thrown her life away to enable them to evade the authorities.

"I… I thought this would be quick. She needed her meds."

It sounded like Renee was getting up and grabbing her keys. "I'm on my way."

By the time he eventually made it home, the sun had well and truly set. Renee's car wasn't in their driveway yet. She must be caught up in traffic, too. As Tony unlocked the back door, he turned on the hallway light and saw that Michelle wasn't nearby. He decided to leave the door unlocked for Renee, feeling like he wouldn't be able to leave Michelle once he found her. 

"Michelle?" he called. 

There was no response, and something told him it wasn't because she was asleep. Still, he checked their bedroom, and she wasn't there. Tony put the medication down on the kitchen counter and called out to her again. He walked into the living room where she had been before. The TV was still on. The blanket he gave her was there, too. He grabbed it instinctively. As he continued to walk through the house, he noticed the basement door was open. What was she doing down there? 

There was a stark temperature change as he walked down the stairs. It had already been cold on the main floor. The heating system in the house was not fantastic, but it had a fireplace. However, the first time he had suggested using it, Michelle vehemently denied the request. Even without words, he had known why: the smoke. Smoke distressed her, and, in all honesty, he still hadn't shaken the association between that horrible day and fires, either. Over the years, tasks that David had often assigned to him, like blowing up a building with C4, had been an ordeal — although his own morality crisis had contributed, too. The noise, the smoke, and the mere sight of the flames had brought his mind back there so quickly. It had only taken a few times for David to catch on; Tony had ended up trembling and throwing up after detonating an explosive while the rest of the crew had had to fend for themselves. David had been kind enough to keep him away from it where possible. But through his own stubbornness, Tony had (mostly) gotten over it. He would like to hope that, with time, Michelle could reduce the stress around that trigger, too.

Tony looked around the basement, feeling more concerned when he didn't see her. He could hear quiet, muffled crying. She had to be here somewhere. Tony walked towards a small linen closet and opened the door. Michelle was sitting against the wall. There was a slight, unsettling rocking motion to her body. As thunder clapped, she became more distressed. Her hands were in her hair, covering her ears as she whimpered. She was also clutching a large kitchen knife fiercely. There was blood trickling down one of her arms. He realised she must have cut herself.

He uttered her name, frantically bending to her level. She didn't react to him, still staring blankly in front of her. She was muttering to herself, but he couldn't quite make out what she was saying.

Tony warily touched her shoulder, and Michelle gasped, turning to face him and holding the knife out. She moved so quickly that the knife grazed his knuckles, making him wince.

"Michelle, it's me," Tony said, as loud as he could to be audible over the storm without frightening her further.

She was looking right at him but didn't seem to register it was him at all. He recognised she was in a defensive stance, not just curling up in fear but ready to fight back.

"Get away from me," she rasped. Tony was somewhat astonished to hear her speak with so much strength but was predominantly concerned by the realisation that she didn't realise where she was.

"Sweetheart, it's me. It's Tony." 

But she shook her head. 

"You won't make me talk."

When he realised she was moving the knife to the inside of her wrist, the side that was already bleeding, he lunged at her, managing to swat the knife out of her hands. The sudden movement frightened her: she let out a piercing scream, moving ferociously to try to defend herself. He managed to seize her wrists, feeling the stickiness of blood beneath his grip. Tony tried to compress the bleeding, which wasn't terribly difficult given that she was thin enough that he could wrap his entire hand around her forearm. She shrieked and fought his grip, told him to let go, and some nastier things that he knew had likely been reserved for Wilson and his people. Tony repeated her name gently but firmly, but she wasn't looking at him or acknowledging him in any way.

Tony heard footsteps from upstairs, so he called out to Renee. The footsteps became hurried, and before he knew it, she had run and bent down beside him. She cursed under her breath.

"What happened?"

"She's out of it. She was cutting herself."

"How deep?"

He shook his head. "It's not that bad." He was oddly grateful for the weakness and tremors in Michelle's hands because they had probably prevented her from hurting herself too much.

Now, he and Renee were both trying to get through to Michelle, which was difficult given that Michelle was clearly used to multiple people restraining her. Every utterance of her name was a plea for her to come back to reality. Renee seemed particularly worried, which likely meant she hadn't seen Michelle like this before. 

Tony wasn't sure what particularly did it, but Michelle eventually stopped resisting, dropping her chin to her chest and squeezing her eyes shut. The tension in her body eased, and Tony saw recognition when she looked up at him.

"T-They're coming. They're coming back for me."

He made his voice firm but calm to try to assure her. "Michelle, you're safe. It's okay. Renee and I are here."

"N-No," she insisted. "He was here. He was hurting me."

"Sweetheart…" He shook his head. "You were home alone."

Her eyes widened. "No."

"Yes."

"He was here," Michelle rebutted desperately, and she seemed hurt that he wasn't believing her. "He was hurting me."

"The noise from the storm scared you and triggered a flashback," Tony explained. "You came here to hide."

She seemed so shocked by this. "W… What?"

Her eyes then fell to the cut on his hand. He glanced at it briefly before shaking his head and looking at her again. "It's nothing, don't worry about it," he said dismissively.

"You're lying," Michelle said in a small voice. "Why are you lying to me?"

He didn't want to tell her, but he knew she wasn't going to drop the issue.

"You were scared, it's okay. You didn't know it was me."

She pursed her lips. "I hurt you," she concluded.

"It's okay. You didn't know."

Tony could see that she was very lost, looking to him for guidance. It was like she was putting every ounce of trust she had left in him. As much as he wanted to hug her, he knew better than to crowd her. She had to come to him when she was ready. A moment later, she threw herself into his arms and burst into tears, breathing in hiccups. She coughed violently, and he did his best to calm her. It was a vicious cycle: the more she panicked, the more it aggravated her coughing fits, but the more she coughed, the less she could breathe, and the more she panicked. The way she was gasping for air made him remember how weak her lungs were. He was even more concerned that she had been down here in the cold. He hoped she wouldn't catch anything. He grabbed the blanket he had brought down and covered her with it. Her nails dug into his skin hard enough to draw blood. 

"D-Don't leave," she begged. "Please don't leave me. Please. He's going to hurt me again. Don't let him hurt me."

Tony hushed her, squeezing her back tightly whilst minding her arms. "It's alright. It's alright." He wasn't quite sure if he was comforting her or himself, a part of him thinking about how much she could have hurt herself had he taken even longer to come home. "You're with me. You're okay. I'm here."

He shifted to let her sit in his lap, and he could hear the rapid pace of her pulse against him.

"Tony…" Renee said after a while. He had forgotten she was there.

"She's shaking." He looked up at her. "Why won't she stop shaking?"

Renee spoke very calmly. "She's freezing from sitting down here for so long. Let's get her upstairs. Run the shower to get some steam to warm her up and help her breathe."

"O-Okay. I…" He was cognisant of how fiercely Michelle was holding onto him. "I don't want to let go of her."

She nodded and bent down to his level, helping him to stand, holding Michelle in his arms. He murmured to her softly, and she said nothing, not moving her head from his chest. 

"Do you want me to make her something to eat?"

"There's… there's food from last night in the fridge," he recalled.

"Alright," Renee said. "Stay with her. I'll bring it into your room."

Tony carried her upstairs to their ensuite. He turned on the heat lamp and ran the shower on full blast, per Renee's instructions. The cuffs of her sweater were damp with blood, and there were droplets on her face and fingertips. As Tony tried to help her undress, the light confirmed the bleeding had slowed down, to his relief. However, he could also see red marks on her skin from when he had tried to get the knife out of her hands. She flinched every time thunder cracked or rain hit the window louder, and Tony held her securely to him. He tried to help her shower quickly, not wetting her hair since he doubted she had the energy for him to dry it and seemed particularly reactive to noise right now.

After drying her off, he grabbed a Band-Aid for the nick on the back of his hand and some antiseptic for hers, just in case. Even with his soft warning and very gentle touch, she still seemed to react with a whimper. He hushed her, trying his best to work quickly.

"You left me," Michelle said quietly after a while. "You let him hurt me."

At first, he just thought she was utterly exhausted from being in such a heightened state of anxiety, muttering like she had before. But she repeated the phrase a few times like he hadn't heard or understood her.

Their eyes met, and she said it again. Tony hated that she was saying it with so much dismay. It was like it had just happened, and she was upset with him for not being here.

"I… I know, sweetheart," he said, a lump forming in his throat as he cupped her face.

"Why?" she whispered. "Why did you leave me?"

"Oh, Jesus," he breathed, those words making his heart shatter. "Come here. Come here. It's okay."

As she leaned in, he pulled her in to hug her, desperate to assure her that she hadn't done anything to deserve it. He couldn't sit there and explain what had happened because it didn't matter. To her, he had abandoned her. No excuse or justification would change that. She rested her head against his shoulder, and all he wanted to do was squeeze every doubt and fear from her mind. But all tonight had proven was that he just wasn't powerful enough to do that anymore. It took everything in him to not break down right there. He was all she had. He had to be the one to tell her she was safe, and he couldn't do that if he was showing weakness.

"I will never let them touch you again. Never," Tony promised. "I'm going to protect you." He seemed to have enough conviction in his voice despite the way he was sniffling because she leaned into him more. "You're safe with me."

When he eventually found it in himself to pull away, he looked into her gaze for a long time, terrified by seeing something so frighteningly distant there. 

"I love you," he mouthed, fighting back tears. He had to be strong for her. "I love you."

She didn't say anything, but her eyes crinkled slightly, and he could only hope to God that she believed him.

He applied the last Band-Aid, got her dressed into a warmer set of pyjamas and carried her over to bed. He sat her next to him and turned on the bedside lamp, his thumb rubbing the back of her hand.

Renee brought the food in on a tray, along with a cup of tea, a glass of water, and her medication.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

She studied Michelle for a moment, biting the inside of her lip. Michelle didn't seem to look at her, her eyes unfocused.

"Don't let her space out too much. Keep telling her you're there."

He didn't question Renee's judgement, so he tucked a hair behind Michelle's ear, letting the back of his hand touch her cheek and spoke to her quietly, reminding her that he was there and gently encouraging her to eat. In this lighting, the shadows cast on her face almost made her look skeletal, and all it did was remind him how long she had suffered and wasted away on her own. It terrified him that despite his efforts, she still felt very far away. It was like she was looking not at him but through him.

She slowly moved her hands to grab the mug, but they were quivering, so he covered her hands with his and gently guided the mug up. He could feel it wasn't boiling and figured Renee had added some cold water but still brought the mug to her lips tentatively. Tony could smell honey and lemon; he hoped that would help her chest. She took a few sips before moving it away. As he went to help her eat, she resisted his motion halfway and turned to look at him.

"It's food from last night."

Michelle shook her head.

"You need to eat something, Michelle," he explained.

She still looked at it sceptically, and he beseeched her again. After a few more tries, she tried to take the fork, but her hand still shook too much, so he helped steady it as she started eating. It was slow-going, but he could tell she was putting in an effort, and he appreciated it so much.

He murmured his gratitude, encouraging her with every bite, no matter how long it took. She could barely keep her eyes open at this point, but she managed to eat most of the food.

When he tried to pass her her pills, she straightened, like the mere mention of medication was enough to snap her into fight-or-flight mode.

"They'll take me," she muttered, not even sounding like herself.

"Nobody's going to take you away again. I'm here," he reassured. "Please, Michelle, you need to take this. It'll help you sleep."

The word sleep seemed to trigger a reaction in her. She whimpered as he tried to move the glass towards her, so he backed away.

"I can't sleep. They'll take me," Michelle explained weakly, almost monotonously.

"Who? Who's going to take you?" he asked gently. He wanted to figure out whether she was saying this out of habit or if there was something else she was trying to tell him. 

"Wilson," she uttered.

He shook his head slowly. "Alan Wilson's gone, Michelle. He can't hurt you anymore." He had been afraid to mention his name, worried it might trigger some repressed  memory of her killing him, but if she was even registering part of what she was saying, then she needed to hear it.

"I can't sleep, they'll take me."

Despite the repetition indicating she was still a little out of it, she understandably wasn't just afraid of Wilson but all of his men. He wished he could give her the same closure about them, but he couldn't. The least he could do was try to assure her, not with logic but with the reminder that he was there. It was for his own insecurity, too. He had to feel useful. Not after handling her first nightmare so poorly and struggling to get the hang of helping her — and certainly not after he had just abandoned her.

"Do you trust me?" he asked, looking her in the eyes.

She only nodded after he repeated the question a few times.

"I'm going to stay up and make sure we're safe, but when I get tired, I'll be here, and then Renee will watch for me," he offered gently but not without assurance. "But I need you to sleep. Can you do that for me?" 

"Okay," Michelle agreed after a beat, looking into his eyes before taking the pills off the napkin and downing them with the water. She curled up into a ball, lying on her side, and he got her into bed. "I-I'm tired," she whispered, spasming a little.

"I know, baby," Tony lamented. He reclined a little as Michelle tried to get comfortable. He kissed her forehead, whispering that he loved her and that she was safe. Her eyes shut quickly, the medication working more rapidly since she was already half-asleep. Thunder cracked loudly, and Tony covered Michelle's ear with his hand, but she didn't stir. It probably helped that her bad ear was facing the ceiling. Tony turned into his sleeve to muffle the first cry that left him, his other hand still stroking her hair.

Once he was sure she was asleep, he stood up, suddenly grabbing the bedside table to stabilise himself as he was overcome with a wave of dizziness. 

"When was the last time you ate something?" Renee asked. 

Tony tiredly ran a hand over his face. "I… I don't remember."

"Go get yourself something to eat," she suggested. "I'll stay with her."

He didn't want to, frankly wanting her by his side as much as she did, him.

Renee must have noticed his hesitation. "You can't take care of her if you don't take care of yourself, first."

He nodded and went to leave, only stopping to watch Renee move from the doorway to sit on the bed beside Michelle.

As Tony walked into the kitchen, he noticed a second plate of leftovers on the bench. He hadn't realised that his ears were ringing until now. He swore he could still hear Michelle screaming, the mere memory sending a chill down his spine. When he looked down at his hands, he had to blink a couple of times to double-check that he didn't still have her blood on them. He didn't think he would ever be able to forget the image of Michelle staring back at him with such fear in her eyes. Tony gripped the edge of the kitchen bench, taking a breath that got caught in his throat. He was still crying but a little less audibly. She had been so scared, and it was all his fault. 

In the early days of their relationship, she had had nightmares from the bomb at CTU. He remembered holding her then. He remembered feeling like he was helping her. He had always thought that having that level of intimacy so quickly, that letting the urgency and peril of every day they spent at CTU drive the pace of their relationship, had brought them closer together than most couples. But tonight, he had felt helpless. He was convinced her progress, small as it might be, had been obliterated. It had taken Michelle so long to snap out of her panic. She had clung to him so desperately. Even then, she hadn't felt completely grounded. He had failed her. 

He was so trapped in his spiral that he hadn't noticed that Renee had come into the kitchen until he finally looked up. He was a little worried that neither of them were near Michelle but realised that she was probably in a very deep sleep and wouldn't wake for a while.

Renee's expression was consoling, although her arms were folded.

"She's sick," Tony said, his voice breaking. "She's sick, and I can't make her better."

"Tony, she just needs time-"

"No, you didn't see how bad she was," Tony cut her off in protest, but then his voice became very hopeless. "I don't- She… she was getting better. Before we took her from the hospital, everything was looking up. She was talking to me. She was making progress. But now…" He sighed and noticed Renee looked very guilty.

"I should have stayed with Michelle when Wilson was transported to the FBI," Renee said bitterly. "This wouldn't have happened if I had been there."

He was quick to deny this. "I don't blame you for that. You've taken such good care of Michelle when you had every right not to because of what I did. What happened wasn't your fault. I know you help her so much, more than I can. And if she could communicate that, I'm sure she would."

A small smile formed on her face. "I just wish it hadn't happened in the first place."

"God, what if we were wrong?"

Renee tilted her head. "Wrong about what?"

"What if she does need more help than we can give her?" he clarified, still overwhelmed by how much he had had to support her just now. It wasn't that he was resentful or didn't want to care for her. It was just terrifying that his mistakes could have such severe consequences.

She lifted a shoulder. "I wonder that myself sometimes, but at the end of the day, she needs you, and I think that's more important. I never would have done this if I didn't believe that."

For a moment, he thought about how they would take her to a psychiatric hospital. She would never go willingly, and he wouldn't want to lie to her. They would have to drive her without specifying where they were going. She would hate that alone, not being answered, not being respected. They would get there, and she would know. It would be hard getting her out of the car, let alone into the building. The nurses there would have to tear her away from him, kicking and screaming, restraining her with no care for what she'd been through. She would hate him. She would never trust him again. They would drug her to calm her down, and by the time he was allowed to visit her, she might barely be responsive. It would be the only thing that could do to make her forget about him and how much she needed him deep down. 

Or perhaps they would drug her. Perhaps he would do the very thing she was so terrified of and put her to sleep against her will to make it easier. Not just for her sake but for his own selfishness because he couldn't bear to see the pain in her expression. She would wake up alone and tied down to a bed with no idea where he was. She would figure it out immediately. She would know that he betrayed her trust. She would hate him, and he wouldn't blame her. But the fact was, he was one of two people she could trust right now, so if he wasn't there… God only knew how she might decide to keep herself safe.

He shook his head. What was he thinking? He couldn't do that to her. All a hospital could do was sedate her and force her to eat at whatever cost. She wouldn't respond to treatment like that. Renee was right: there was a reason she had gotten them both away from the authorities. And truth be told, he didn't want to be without her, either. 

"Michelle's going to be fine, Tony," Renee assured quietly, seemingly understanding that he was deep in thought. Tony was surprised that Renee wasn't just letting him have it for being so stupid. "She's okay. She's strong. You helped to ground her. I saw how she looked at you once she recognised that you were there. Like I said, it's just… it's just going to take time, but she'll heal."

Tony also remembered the day Michelle had nearly died in her attempt to give the FBI a reason to let her see him. While he had been terrified of losing her again, he had been more terrified by knowing that she needed him so much that she was willing to take such a risk, knowing she would only get a moment with him. Frankly, it astounded him, but he recognised that he had a lot of reasons to hate himself and while she might hate him when she knew the truth, for now… he was what she needed. So it was up to him to be there for her. But he wasn't as simple as he thought it would be. She was dependent on him to a degree that he had severely underestimated. He only had himself to blame. Renee had warned him he had a lot to learn, but some part of him had still been in denial, insisting she would bounce back.

"I shouldn't have left her," Tony said after a moment. He must have said it very quietly because Renee squinted at him. "I shouldn't have left her home alone and unmedicated," he repeated. "I'm an idiot."

"Tony-"

"No," he said, cutting her off. "She needed me, and I wasn't there. I should have been here holding her so she wouldn't get scared. This wouldn't have happened."

"She needed her medication. You went to get it. You couldn't have-"

He slammed his hand on the bench. "I should have known the storm would affect her, alright? S-She could have killed herself if I didn't make it back in time."

Still, she managed to sound reasonable. "These things happen-"

"But it's my job not to let them," he implored, his voice breaking slightly. "I've failed her enough already."

"You haven't even been here with her for long, Tony."

"Before that."

There was a beat before she realised. "You think you should have been able to figure out that Wilson had been holding her?"

Tony wiped under his eye. "It took me so long to figure out he was behind everything. Had I dug a little deeper, I could have realised there was more to it."

"What would you have done?"

"What?"

"If you had figured out that Wilson was holding her, what would you have done?" she asked genuinely.

He shrugged.

"Well, given your track record with hostage negotiation, I think you probably would have begged Wilson to take you and let Michelle go. You would have told him that you had plenty of valuable information to give him, and you would have done so without question."

He had forgotten just how long she had been investigating him before that day. He looked down at the floor.

"Yeah," he admitted. "That sounds about right."

"You honestly believe he would have just let her go? Do you think he would have risked that? Do you think he wouldn't have sent someone after her the second you weren't looking? And that he wouldn't have killed you, too?"

"What's your point?" he said tiredly.

Renee huffed. "My point is, it's over now." She took a couple of steps towards him. "Wilson's dead. Michelle is here with you. There's nothing you can do except try and support her in whatever way you can. You won't always get it right, and that's okay. It's- you haven't exactly been there for her."

Tony gave her a dirty look, but she rolled her eyes. 

"You only saw her a handful of times after her rescue. You hadn't watched her day in and day out to truly understand her state of mind. You might have read her medical reports, but you weren't able to see those symptoms manifested until now, which is why you thought getting her medication was the right thing to do. You couldn't have realised that she could be triggered by something as simple as a dark room and a loud noise," she explained. "There's nothing… there's nothing wrong with that. In a way, you have to get to know her all over again because she's changed. All her trauma and terror aside, she's changed because it's been six years since you've seen her. You just have to be patient and listen to her. Then, over time, you'll be able to be there for her in the way she needs, not the way you think she needs."

Renee had a point, even if it hurt a little to have the reminder that he hadn't been a big part of her life these last few months. She had been taking care of Michelle. She had seen her every day. As much as Renee spoke about how much Michelle needed him, Tony was well aware that she had been there for Michelle, too, for which he was grateful. He recognised his ego still got in the way. He knew that, deep down, some part of him felt like he wanted to be there for her, not to satisfy his self-importance, but to feel like he had value in her life. He wanted to nurture and make her feel safe. He believed it was the only way to make up for his treachery.

"Today, we both learned a lesson, okay? Michelle can't be alone — even if she seems fine — because her state can change at the drop of a hat. That, and we need to cooperate better to keep her meds stocked," Renee summarised. "One of us will need to be with her at all times, at least for now, and that's fine. I can see how much of a difference you make to her well-being just by being there," she said with conviction. "That's why I did this: for her. So stop beating yourself up for making a mistake."

The silence allowed her pep talk to sink in and bring him back to reality. She was right. And really, was he surprised? Tony knew from the moment he met Renee that she had a sharp eye and that he had to be very careful around her. It was the same thing he thought when he first met Michelle.

"Thanks," he said humbly. "I needed to hear that. And again, I appreciate what you've done for Michelle. I don't know how I'll ever repay you."

"Repay me by taking care of her," she responded simply. "Make her happy, support her, be there for her. Do that, and I'll find a way to live with it."

He smiled slightly. 

"I'm going to head to bed." Renee slid the plate closer to him before walking away. "I suggest you eat something like I told you to, then go hold your wife. That storm's not going away any time soon. I'll be here, though, if either of you need anything."

Tony felt a clutch of gratitude for her. "For the record…" She stopped in her tracks and turned to him. "I don't think Larry would resent you for what you're doing. I think he'd understand."

The mention of his name caused a flash of anger to appear across her face. "Don't say his name. Don't act like you're sorry about it. You're not," she said bitterly. However, as she became receptive to his words, her expression softened. "But, thanks. I think I needed to hear that, too."

The next few days were agony. Michelle's fear of abandonment presented itself painfully clearly as she refused to let him leave her side. She didn't voice this, but based on how her breathing would sharpen if he tried to pull away, he knew she needed the assurance that he wasn't leaving her. She would fall asleep in his arms, then wake herself up to check he was still there. He was at least relieved that Michelle didn't seem to have gotten sick, despite being down in the cold for so long that day, but it hurt. God, it hurt and made him blame himself even more for what had happened, despite Renee's assurance that it had been a simple mistake and that all he had to do was learn from it.

It still amazed him that Renee could be so on top of things, so unfazed, even when Michelle was at her most vulnerable. Tony supposed it really boiled down to the fact that Renee saw this as looking after someone she cared about because it was the right thing to do, while he couldn't partition taking care of Michelle from his belief that he needed to make up for what he had done by being the husband Michelle deserved. Making a mistake meant letting Michelle down. Making a mistake meant failure.

As Tony woke, he felt tension in his back, likely because he was holding her so tightly. The storm had persisted, too. The sky was still grey, rain falling lightly against the windows. Michelle had moved at some point during the night to face him, her head resting against his collarbone.

Her eyes blinked open, and he watched her wake up. The fact that she wasn't immediately ensuring he was there or panicking was a good sign. But he was afraid to be optimistic. 

"You slept well," he mumbled. "That's good."

She nodded with a slight smile, bringing her hand to cup his cheek. Michelle pecked him on the lips before turning to get out of bed. He frantically tried to sit up and follow her, but she preempted this by placing a hand on his chest.

"You don't need any help?" Tony asked.

Michelle shook her head, seeming to insist on doing this herself, before slowly walking into their ensuite, leaving the door open so he could see her. She brushed her teeth and washed her face with a towel. Michelle had to pause a couple of times, leaning on the counter to rest. But she otherwise seemed capable of doing the same things she had been before that night, which was a good sign, albeit a surprising one.

He started to get dressed when she did, and although she said nothing, Tony could tell she was content. She had taken the higher dose of her anxiety medication over the past few days for good measure, just to let her get some sleep, so he was glad to see it had been worth it.

They both walked out into the kitchen, and Tony was met with a note from Renee saying that she would be back later with more food. He proceeded to make Michelle breakfast, intermittently looking where she was sitting at the table and gazing out the window. She did that a lot, watching the sky. Hopefully, when the weather was warmer, she could sit outside and feel the fresh air. He knew that would do wonders for her.

He sat beside her, and they ate their breakfast in peaceful silence. She didn't resist, verbally or non-verbally. She hadn't done it as much over the past few days, seemingly because she had been watching everything. There wasn't always a rhyme or reason for why she got paranoid about food. Usually, it was a trigger response when she was already stressed. To see her eat without fear almost brought him to tears, which made her tilt her head at him.

"You're eating," he whispered, answering her silent question. "It makes me happy to see you do that. It means you're getting stronger."

She nodded and seemed very aware of how affected he was by this.

It was easy to almost pretend nothing had happened the other day, but the fact was, something had. And while he was sure Michelle didn't want to think about it, he knew it was important that they discussed it. He didn't ever want it to happen again. However, Tony was always careful to avoid sensitive discussions while she ate. It was hard enough for her to eat sometimes; he didn't need to stop her from trying to finish a meal if she had already gotten past the first step. 

After they finished eating, she moved to sit on the couch and watch TV. He washed up, then sat next to her.

"Michelle, do you want to talk about what happened the other night?" Tony asked gently.

The faint smile that had been on her face disappeared.

"I-It doesn't have to be right now," he amended, covering her hand with his. "But I think it's important that we do. I don't want something like that to happen again, and I want you to understand that it was an accident."

She sighed but seemed to nod with assurance.

"I know that you already weren't feeling well and that I took a lot longer to get back than I told you, and I'm sorry," Tony started. "I tried to call you a few times, but you didn't answer. I realise now that the storm scared you, and you were probably too worried trying to hide to hear it."

Michelle nodded again, pressing her lips together.

"I can understand why," he said sympathetically. "It was loud, and even though the sun was out when I left, it got dark pretty quickly. You had probably been trying to rest and lost track of time."

She confirmed this.

Tony took a breath, knowing he had to be careful with wording the following questions. "I know those things might have reminded you of the bomb. But when I tried to help you the other night, you thought you were somewhere else. So you weren't just thinking about the bomb, were you?"

Michelle bit her lip, seeming to know what he was getting at.

"You don't have to tell me details. You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to," he reminded her. "But if you can, I want to know if there are any triggers I can try to look out for to make sure you don't have an attack like that again."

Before he went to elaborate further and insist that she wasn't obligated to talk to him about this and that she could talk to Renee instead if she wanted to, to his surprise, she spoke.

"I fell asleep before the storm started. I-I woke up to the thunder and thought they had taken me again." She proceeded to explain slowly in short fragments, taking several pauses to catch her breath. Her voice would skip, and she would repeat certain parts that seemed particularly important. "When… when they took me from the hospital, it was dark. They shot everyone and grabbed me. I screamed. They drugged me. I woke up… Wilson was there."

Tony squeezed her hand, so proud of her for speaking about something so difficult for her to talk about and deeply relieved that she trusted him.

"That's why you grabbed the knife, to protect yourself?"

"Yeah," she said quietly.

He didn't want to push this too far. But he also recognised that if Michelle was willing to talk about this now, he needed to get as many details as possible to better support her. Obviously, the first step was being there for her, which he would do diligently now. Another thing was to make sure anything she could hurt herself with was out of reach in case she did have an episode like that again. In an ideal world, he would ensure the house was trigger-free, a safe haven for her. But he couldn't control things like the weather, so he wanted to at least understand the corresponding memories that came with the triggers to better understand her state of mind.

"Can I just ask you one more thing?"

Michelle nodded.

"When I found you…" Tony said, clearing his throat to stop his voice from wavering. "You'd hurt yourself. Do you remember that?"

Michelle looked into her lap before tipping her head a little. "I-I thought I could make them stop asking me questions. I didn't… I didn't know what else to do." 

Although that sounded in line with what he had seen the other night, there was something different about the quality of her voice. She had said it all in a jumbled rush and fidgeted slightly. For as long as he had known her, she had never been able to lie to him. 

"Sweetheart..." he started warily. "I'm not accusing you of anything, and I'm not upset. But that wasn't the whole truth, was it?"

"No," she admitted quietly. "It wasn't."

He tucked a hair behind her ear. "Why were you hurting yourself?" he repeated very calmly.

"B-Because I thought you weren't coming back. I thought you left me like you kept leaving me in the hospital. You said you would be back, and you weren't," she croaked. "I-I thought something had happened."

Tony squeezed his eyes shut, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I won't let that happen again. From now on, Renee and I will make sure that someone's always here with you, okay?"

Although she seemed glad to hear this, he still recognised something almost shameful in her expression as she looked away.

"Are you going to send me away?" Michelle asked, a disheartened look in her eyes. "Because I'm crazy?"

He was quick to indicate otherwise and squeeze her hand again. "No, no, I would never do that. You're not crazy, sweetheart."

"B-But I keep seeing things and hearing things that aren't there," she protested woefully. "I… I don't know what's real anymore. I can't do anything by myself, and you have to take care of me-"

"And that's okay," he said assuredly. "You've been through so much, Michelle. You spent so many years having to protect yourself. It's going to take some time to adjust to being out of the hospital, and I understand that it's overwhelming, but there's nothing wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with you. You're just… you're just not well right now, but you're going to get better."

She sniffled, squeezing his hand back. "D-Do you really think so? Do you think I can get better?"

He would be lying if he hadn't asked himself that question before. Initially, after her rescue, he had been vehemently optimistic that with good doctors and support, she would work through it and come out the other side. But as time had passed and he had learned more about the severity of her various conditions… he had become doubtful. Particularly after seeing her nightmares firsthand and the horrible episode she had the other day, combined with killing Wilson… it was harder to believe that she would ever be the same. And he hated that so much. He hated what Wilson had taken from her. It wasn't fair. She didn't deserve to have that experience haunt her like this. But it also just affirmed to him that he needed to be there for her. It hurt to think that, in a way, he had still probably lost part of Michelle forever. But with time and care, he could try to preserve what was left.

"I don't know," he confessed. "But what I do know is that you are stronger than you realise. And that, even if you hadn't been through such terrible things, you still would have changed because that's what happens over time. People change. And that's not a bad thing. Whatever happens, whether you get better slowly or quickly, whether you can work through things or you can't, it doesn't matter. The goal here is not to make you be exactly how you used to be. All I want is for you to be happy, safe and healthy, in whatever way that looks like for you."

"What if I don't get better at all? What if I'm always going to need you like this?"

He shrugged. "Then I'm just going to have to make sure I'm here for you, won't I?" He brushed a tear from her face. "I promised to take care of you in sickness and in health. That's exactly what I'm going to do."

"I just… I hate that we're never going to have what we used to and that it's my fault." Her bottom lip was wobbling.

"None of this is your fault, Michelle," he said dismayed. "How could any of this be your fault?"

She took a breath, opening her mouth a few times before she answered. "B-Because I went out to the car after you told me not to." Her voice broke. It took him a moment to understand what she meant, but when it hit him that she was blaming herself for the car bomb, it broke his heart.

Tony hushed her and moved so he was kneeling down in front of her. "No, you were trying to do a good thing. You were trying to do the right thing, and I should have listened to you," he consoled. "None of this, none of this, is your fault. I just want to take care of you and be there for you. I want to do whatever I can to help you. We're here together. That's all that matters, okay?"

Michelle sniffled, finally looking him in the eyes and nodding. She let him take one of her hands in his and kiss her knuckles before they met halfway for a hug. 

"I'm here for you," he said firmly. "I'm here to protect you and give you whatever you need, okay?"

Michelle nodded against him. "Okay," she whispered.

Tony opened his eyes, finding the room dark. Rain pattered loudly against the window. The digital clock on his nightstand read 2:47. Michelle wasn't beside him, and he could hear running water. Tony warily got out of bed, walking towards the ensuite and feeling a terrible sense of foreboding within him. 

When he opened the bathroom door, he looked down immediately, noticing water at his feet. His eyes traced the pinkish puddles back to their source, making his heart stop. Desperately, he ran over to the overflowing bathtub while trying not to slip and fall. Michelle was lying inside, her head lolled to one side and skin as white as the tiles around her. The water was up to her chin, soaking the ends of her hair. Her eyes were closed.

How long had she been in here? Why hadn't he heard her? Why hadn't he heard her?

He babbled her name, feeling the slightly warm water splash against his skin as he frantically slid his hands into the murky tub. It was a struggle, but, eventually, he used one arm under her knees and the other around the middle of her back to lift her out.

In the downlight of the bathroom, he saw impossibly many deep, uniform slits all along the insides of her forearms and fronts of her thighs. He ended up sitting against the side of the tub, holding her in his lap and worriedly trying to get her to respond. She was so limp that it was hard to keep her still and get a good look at her. It precisely reminded him of how he had held her after the bomb went off, when he had already known deep down from the stillness of her body that she was gone.

Tony said her name over and over again, grabbing a towel from the rack and attempting to compress the bleeding. But it was hard knowing where to begin. He hadn't checked her pulse yet because he didn't want to. He didn't want to accept the conclusion he had already drawn in his subconscious.

Tony laid her down against the cold, wet floor and cleared the water from her airways. He then started CPR, hoping with every compression and breath of life that he would see her open her eyes. Tony begged her to wake up, initially in broken murmurs but then in pained screams.

As he went to hold her, he gasped as her body suddenly contorted into that of David's, then Larry's, and then Jack's. Tony jerked back, and the bleeding body on the floor was Michelle again. She rolled her head to the side to look at him with lifeless eyes.

"You did this to me," she rasped, a tear rolling down her cheek. "You left me."

"N-No." He shook his head. "I didn't… I didn't know. I didn't know!"

Tony opened his eyes, finding the room dark. Rain pattered loudly against the window. The digital clock on his nightstand read 2:47. Michelle wasn't beside him. He could hear how heavily he was breathing over the barely audible and horrifyingly familiar sound of running water. His heart was still racing in his chest. Tony got up frantically and stumbled to the bathroom, pathetically calling Michelle's name.  

He opened the door and sighed as he saw her standing and washing her hands. Tony continued to breathe in laboured puffs, now relieved, not anxious, leaning against the doorjamb to stabilise himself. His clothes and hair stuck to his skin from sweat. Michelle seemed oblivious to his presence despite him uttering her name between breaths. 

It took him a long time to finally regain his composure, blinking away tears and making sure he didn't take his gaze off her for a second. Some part of his brain worried that she would disappear again.

Although he wasn't sure how much time had passed, what confused him was that Michelle hadn't moved. Tony took a few slow, careful steps towards her and noticed that she was still washing her hands, almost furiously. 

"Sweetheart, what are you doing?" he asked, trying not to sound accusatory.

"There's blood on me," Michelle muttered quietly, scrubbing harder. When he tilted his head to look at her, there was a slightly glassy quality to her eyes, as though she were half-asleep, maybe sleepwalking.

Tony was reasonably sure Michelle knew that Alan Wilson was dead and that she had had something to do with it. But they hadn't brought it up — not properly, anyway. So, she was understandingly still processing it in her subconscious. He had asked Doctor Macer when they were first settling in how to approach the topic — if to approach the topic — and she had said only to do so when Michelle wanted to talk about it. Michelle also occasionally spoke to Doctor Macer as a makeshift form of therapy. Tony wished it wasn't such a risk for Michelle to see a psychologist or, really, any kind of specialist. He hated that their situation was holding her back so much. It would be a while before they could comfortably use fake IDs for going out and about, and even then, psychologists could breach confidentiality if the FBI managed to track them down.

So, Tony had to try to support her when she was ready — if she was ready — to discuss it. He only hoped that she didn't feel bad about it. In his eyes — and, by the sounds of it, Renee's, too — Michelle had had every right to kill Wilson after what he had done to her. She had been trying to protect herself, not only out of fear but out of the knowledge that Wilson would likely evade prosecution,  evidence of her assault notwithstanding. He had had a lot of powerful people in his back pocket. Tony had known from the get-go that Wilson was untouchable — hence, he had handled things on his own. But it was over now for both of them.

He just hoped that whatever Michelle remembered was enough for her to know she didn't need to be afraid anymore.

Tony turned the tap off, finding that the noise was driving him to insanity. She continued her motions before he took a towel and covered her hands, making her still. He gently dried her hands despite the tremble in his own, and to his relief, she didn't seem to mind. When he moved the towel away to reveal the backs of her hands, he noticed her skin was raw, red, and very dry. He sniffled as he used one hand to brush his thumb over her wrist and the other to grab some lotion to moisturise her skin. Tony shook a little as he did this, reminding himself that she was here. Her arms bore only the scars he had come to be familiar with, as well as the few from the storm. She was okay. She was here with him, and she was okay.

He paused as she moved one of her hands to swipe under his eye. When he looked up, she seemed concerned.

Tony shook his head, mustering a weak smile. "I just had a bad dream. It's okay," he whispered. "I… I thought I lost you again." 

As his voice broke on those last words, she snaked her arms around his waist and pulled him in for a hug. 

Tony kissed the top of her head, squeezing her back, letting her ground him. "Let's just go back to bed, okay?" he suggested.

She nodded against his chest, allowing him to guide her back to their room. Even though the nightmare had taken a lot out of him, Tony kept himself awake, watching Michelle fall asleep, holding one of her hands with his to make sure she didn't go anywhere. He used the sound of her gentle breathing to distract himself from his mind replaying what she had said to him in that dream and brief flashes of the other faces, all covered in blood and scornful.

Tony had to wonder whether he would have had such a horrific, guilt-induced nightmare if he wasn't here with Michelle. As much as he insisted on the justification of his actions, he couldn't deny that deep down — very deep down — his current body count made him feel ill. If they hadn't found Michelle after that day, maybe he would have had some kind of breakdown, pleading to a God he semi-believed in — really, only so he could somehow ration his excessive misfortune as punishment for his sins — for forgiveness. Then again, he hadn't planned to stick around long enough to know.

What Tony did know very well was that Michelle's presence had brought back a lot of the good in him, a lot of the parts of him he thought had died with him all those years ago.

So, Tony realised that maybe he needed Michelle to heal just as much as she needed him.

Although Tony and Renee had been coordinating better to ensure that one of them was always with Michelle and she had everything she needed, Tony soon realised that some things would take longer than he initially thought. After a few weeks of everything seemingly being stable, Michelle's paranoia started to build up again and affect her eating. She was losing weight, which worried him immensely. She was rapidly losing the progress she had taken so long to make at the FBI. It became increasingly difficult for her to stand up for more than a moment without getting dizzy. Her clothes were also becoming increasingly oversized.

"Can you please get on the scale for me, Michelle?" Tony asked again, but she frowned.

"I don't want you to get mad," Michelle mumbled.

He sighed. "I'm not going to get mad."

"Yes, you will," she refuted. "When the number went down last time, you got upset with me."

"I got worried," Tony corrected. "You're not supposed to be losing weight. It's not good. You need to get your strength up."

Michelle wouldn't even look at him. "Renee can see the scale. Not you," she conceded. "I don't want you there."

He nodded, trying not to show the hurt on his face. "Alright."

His usual assurances that her food had not been tampered with were not working. Recovery had its ups and downs, he knew that, but it was hard for him to just let this pass when she was so visibly ill.

"Sweetheart, nobody's drugged your food. Please. You need to eat."

She moved further away from him, shaking her head.

"They did it when you weren't looking. Don't you understand?" Her paranoia terrified him sometimes. It was the closest thing he had to truly understanding the kind of headspace she'd had to be in for all those years. "They're coming to kill you and Renee, then take me. They've put drugs in my food, so I pass out."

He slumped his shoulders, watching how, with every sentence, she shook and lost control of her breathing. She met his eyes, begging him to understand and believe her. He obviously couldn't fault Michelle for having this belief, not when they didn't know how many of Wilson's associates could be trying to find her and silence her for good. But she couldn't have this fear with her twenty-four-seven,

"Michelle…" he said softly. "I-I understand why you're scared. But can't you see I am, too? I'm scared of losing you. That's why you have to take care of yourself."

When she had finally conceded, eating only a few bites to placate him, Tony had soon realised that despite his efforts, he hadn't convinced her that the food was safe. With all of his anxiety at a peak, he had raised his voice. The rest was history. 

He pressed his ear to the door, concerned by how long she had been inside the bathroom. He hadn't heard any loud thuds to indicate she had fainted — something that had been happening more and more lately. He knocked and called her name, but she didn't respond. Now he was really worried. She moaned in pain, and he couldn't take it anymore. He picked the lock on the door, hating that he was invading her privacy and knowing this would frighten her, but ultimately driven by his desire to protect her.

As he walked towards her, she was still throwing up. She looked exhausted. Given that she barely had the energy to get through the day, to make herself do this so forcefully was taking a lot out of her. 

When she looked up at him, there was so much shame on her face.

"What… what are you doing?" he asked, louder than he should have. "Michelle, you can't do that to yourself!" 

She sat up and shuffled back against the wall, holding her hands up defensively.

"I-I'm sorry." She sniffled, her voice hoarse. "I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me."

Those words broke his heart. But he didn't doubt that she had meant them. The fear in her eyes made it perfectly clear that she still believed anyone — including him — would hurt her if she didn't do as they had asked. 

"Sweetheart," Tony said sadly. "You know I would never hurt you."

He bent down to her level, and she moved further away, curling herself into a ball and shaking her head. She told him very quietly to go. 

"Tony, leave her," Renee said from behind him, calmly but firmly. He went to protest, but Michelle wasn't even looking at him, starting to cry quietly, so he did as she asked and walked away.

He sighed, utterly defeated, before doing what they had both asked of him. He made it outside, his breaths shuddering. He sniffled a few times, realising how scared she'd been. She wasn't supposed to look at him like that. God, he was an idiot. At the same time, what was he supposed to do when she was wasting away so quickly before his eyes?

Renee said his name, and he turned to find her standing with her hands on her hips. "What the hell was that?"

"She was making herself throw up-"

"I know," she cut him off. "But you can't yell at her like that."

"I didn't want to, Renee, but I can't let her do that to herself."

"Enough with your excuses, Tony." She slumped her shoulders. "I don't get it. Really, I don't. You went from being everything she needed, and now you're acting like an asshole and scaring her. What the hell is up with you?"

"I'm trying to protect her-"

She wasn't having it. "Bullshit. If that was what you wanted, then you would know better than to yell at her. She shuts down the second you raise your voice, so why do you keep doing it?"

His cheek twitched. "I don't care if I scare her, so long as it makes her take care of herself."

"Yes, you do," Renee pointed out, and she wasn't wrong. "It clearly upsets you to do that, so combined with the fact that it's not working, why do you keep doing it?"

He didn't answer her question since he wasn't really sure himself.

"For God's sake, Michelle is going to stop trusting you. She kept asking me over and over again why you weren't listening to her, why you didn't believe her, why you yelled at her. And I had to try to explain that even though you scared her, you still have her best interests at heart. Don't you understand that she has lived in constant terror for the past six years? Don't you understand that she has had nobody to help her, nobody to be there for her, nobody who hasn't laid their hands on her without causing her harm? She has been beaten and broken down, and the only time I see even a glimpse of the old her is when you're there to comfort her. So how do you think it makes her feel when you do the exact opposite of that?"

If he wasn't already feeling bad, hearing that shattered him. It only affirmed to him that Renee was right. Fear was not the way to go. It only made him aware of how much of a monster he had become, and he hated that so much.

"I just…" he said very quietly. "I just don't know what else to do. I feel helpless. I…" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I'm so scared of losing her."

Her expression softened slightly, but her voice didn't. "If you want her to get better, you need to make her feel loved and make her feel safe," she explained simply. "She's not going to want you near her right now, but when she feels a little less vulnerable, you need to work on doing that. I know you try, but try harder. It won't happen overnight, but if you keep doing that, maybe she'll start believing you when you say she's safe. She needs you, Tony. I can do my best, but you are the one she needs."

After that incident, Michelle wouldn't even look him in the eye. She asked him to sleep on the couch, and he didn't argue with that. Although some part of him rationed that he had been ultimately trying to do the right thing and get her to eat, he also knew he deserved every bit of how she was regarding him right now. He had acted like a monster, and that had broken some of the trust between them, so he would have to wait it out until she felt comfortable trying to rebuild it — if she even wanted to.

Tony found himself sleeping even less than usual, lying there and spiralling about the ramifications of his actions on her well-being, replaying every moment where he could have been kinder, could have been better, should have been better. He rolled over on the couch and stood up, surprised to find Michelle sitting in the armchair by the living room window. She had her knees to her chest and aimlessly stared ahead. For a second, he wondered if Michelle was spacing out and very carefully called her name. She looked behind at him, then back at the window. There was no scowl, which was a change, but she was still upset.

"I want to go home," she muttered, and he tilted his head. Maybe she was seeing things after all.

"Michelle…" He took a few steps closer. "We are home." 

She shook her head. "This isn't home." Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Our old house was nothing like this. DC is freezing. I haven't seen the sun in weeks. And we're completely isolated from everyone."

He was inclined to agree, unfortunately. Yes, they were together, and that was the main thing, but they didn't have the life they had had before everything happened. Being shut in all the time was starting to take its toll on both of them.

"Why did so many terrible things happen to us?" she asked hoarsely.

Tony sighed. "I've asked myself the same question every day for the last decade, sweetheart."

She pursed her lips. "I hate this so much. It's not fair. Do you remember the first year of our marriage? How happy we were?"

It pained him to do so. Those memories were so wonderful but so far removed from where they were now. But he managed a sad smile. "Yeah. I do."

"And now look at us," Michelle said bitterly. "We're arguing over food because I'm paranoid."

Tony leaned against the wall, hating the misery in her expression.

"I want us to be us again. I want us both to be happy. But instead, you… you have to treat me like a child because I'm sick. It's pathetic-"

"It's not pathetic, sweetheart-"

"Yes, it is," she insisted. "You're so worried about me. You're exhausted. You try to hide it, but I know you are."

He pressed his lips together. "I'm trying to be strong for you. You're not supposed to be worrying about me right now."

"I know you think you need to be strong for me, and I appreciate it, but you don't need to. Not every moment of every day. I need you to understand that trying to play the hero and act like you're not suffering is exactly the problem here. Yes, I need you, and yes, you ground me. But that doesn't mean you have to pretend it doesn't upset you to see me like this. Showing your emotions in front of me won't make me trust you any less."

He hadn't expected her to pick up on that, and he certainly hadn't expected her to bring it up when she still had every right to tell him how awful he had made her feel. What she said was very true. He had tried so hard ensure he didn't make her paranoia worse. Watching her struggle every day broke his heart, and he suppressed his emotions so she didn't dare suspect that he was upset or resentful because he wasn't. He thought it had all been for her, but what happened the other day had proved him wrong. By bottling up his emotions, it had only made him less able to take care of her.

"You're right," he said humbly. "I… I should have known better. We talked about that all the time after we got back together, and it's still just as important now. I just…" He closed his eyes. "You're wasting away, Michelle. It means you could get sicker, and you know that we can't risk going somewhere like a hospital where we could be found. I'm not saying that what I did the other day was right. It wasn't. I just can't lose you again. I-I don't know what to do. Doctor Macer suggested a clinic, and she said she'd make sure she got herself a position there so she could look out for you, but you don't want that, do you?"

Michelle shook her head fervidly. 

"I know. I don't want that, either. I feel better knowing you're here with me. But that means you have to try to listen to me, baby."

She looked down into her lap. "I-I know I need to eat. I know. I am trying. You have to believe me. I'm trying so hard to get over this. But please, don't force me."

"I do believe you, and I know that. I won't do what I did again. I just… I need you to tell me how I can help. I don't care how small it is. If it makes a difference for you, I'll do it."

Michelle shrugged vaguely. "I don't know."

"You don't have to answer that now," he reassured. "I understand-"

"No." Her voice broke. "No, you don't. Not really. You have no idea what I'm going through." She sniffled before elaborating. "When you see a plate of food, you see a plate of food. When I see a plate of food, I see a list of ingredients and who might have had the chance to tamper with them. If I mentally run through and at least convince myself the chances are small or that if they had laced them with anything, it would have been discovered, then that's enough. But I can't do that check if I'm already tired or overwhelmed about something, so I don't trust it."  

It was taking a lot out of her to speak so much, but she persisted, nonetheless.

"When they used to drug me, I could resist. When they put drugs in my food, and I didn't know… it was how they got me where they wanted me. So when I refuse to eat or make myself throw up, it's because I can't help it. It's an automatic response because that was the only way I could be safe. It's…  it's like being in fight-or-flight mode all the time. All I do, the reason I'm so tired is because I sit there analysing everything. It's not that I don't trust you or Renee because I do. I'm just so terrified that his people will find us."

Tony took a moment to absorb that. There was a clarity in her voice that he hadn't heard before, and the strength was something he very rarely heard from her now, but it gave him so much hope.

"I know it's hard for you to talk to me because you're afraid of upsetting me, which is why you don't understand why I am the way I am sometimes." She rubbed her eyes tiredly. "But this is just… it's different to a nightmare. I have to deal with this all the time, every day."

"I hate that you have to live with this," he said. "I hate that you have to live with any of it. And now I realise why this is so hard, but it does remind me of something we talked about when we got back together."

She peered up at him, seemingly open to his suggestion.

"We had talked about finding some hobbies because we finally had regular hours. One of us suggested gardening. If we had some fresh food that we grew ourselves, would that be something you wouldn't have to check?"

Michelle contemplated this before nodding slightly.

"Our yard here isn't too small, I don't think. We obviously can't grow everything, but having some fail-safes would be good. That way… on the days when you're too anxious to try to figure out what to eat, you can still try to eat something. It's better than nothing." She didn't seem to be resisting the idea, to his relief. "And I'll still cook in front of you. We'll still eat together like we have been. But it'll be one less thing for you to worry about. Or at least, part of the meal you won't have to worry about."

"That sounds like a good idea," Michelle said, warily optimistic. "Maybe we can make that work. I… I don't want to be sick anymore. I need to let you help me, and this is a good place to start." 

It felt good to finally have a tangible solution for this. Tony knew that if Michelle could eat more, she would have more energy and hopefully be less anxious, too. So, the fact that they had a start was a relief in itself. He wasn't naive enough to expect that things would always be perfect. He knew that. But so long as she wasn't giving up because losing her to this would destroy him. She was a fighter. And even though she had had to do a lot of fighting these past few years, now she had him to fight alongside her. They were going to get through this. One step at a time.

Michelle slowly stood up and slid her arms around his waist, leaning against him. "I hate fighting with you."

"I hate fighting, too." He squeezed her back, not realising how much he needed it. "So, are we okay then? Do we need to talk about anything else?"

She shook her head. "We're okay. Just… don't let it get to this point again. If something's not working, we'll talk about it."

"Yeah," he agreed, naively hoping that she would remember this when the time came for her to learn what he had done. "We will."

After their discussion, Tony had tried to back off a little with Michelle's eating, allowing her to do things in small steps, even though he was still concerned it wasn't enough. He recognised that even just those steps were a very big deal for her, and he was proud of her. He showed her so much love and praise, wanting her to understand that he could never be upset about or resentful of her condition.

Unfortunately, despite seeing her progress, it did not stop him from worrying. She had asked him to express that better, and he did when appropriate, but when she seemed to be okay, it felt wrong to bring up what he was still worried about. He didn't want Michelle to think he was criticising her or trying to push her to do more. He wanted to celebrate her wins, not dampen them with the reminder of the long road ahead. Furthermore, despite her assurance, Tony knew she was still very receptive to seeing him upset and was always quick to blame herself. He appreciated that she wanted them to have open communication between them. He wanted that, too, but he felt it was more important to give her assurance and encouragement; one difficult conversation could still set her back.

Tony woke up one morning, and panic immediately set in when he saw that Michelle wasn't beside him. Tony checked the bathroom and other rooms of the house. He was so frantic that he did not notice the neatly scrawled note on the kitchen counter. 

He soon found Michelle walking out the back door but was too anxious to pause and think rationally about why.

"Michelle?" he hissed, sounding harsher than he intended. "What are you doing?"

She didn't respond — which he would realise a few seconds too late was because of her impaired hearing — so he grabbed her shoulder. Michelle spun around to face him with a gasp. She looked incredibly startled, and he quickly pulled his hand back, recognising his mistake.

"I wanted to go for a walk," Michelle explained thinly.

"Without telling me?!"

They had only just started going on short walks together over the past week; she was not at the stage to be doing it alone, not when he and Renee didn't even let her stay at home alone.

"I… I left a note. I didn't want to wake you."

He stared at her in disbelief, finding his heart was still racing.

"Why did you yell at me?" she asked in a small voice. "You know I hate it when you yell."

Tony sighed and softened his expression upon seeing how upset she was. He realised that he was to blame for this. He had basically swung to the opposite extreme, acting like everything was okay and giving her the false assurance that she could jump to stages she wasn't ready for and wouldn't realise she wasn't ready for until it was too late. But just like it had the other week with her eating, his overprotective side had come out, and he had upset her again. Why couldn't he get this right? Why was this so hard? He knew it was rooted not just in fear over her health but also in the very real threat of the FBI finding them. His intention had been to keep her safe, to make sure he did everything he could so they wouldn't lose each other again, not to control her. He would never do that. But the way she was looking at him right now made him think that was the precise message he had conveyed.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly but emphatically. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have done that."

"You can't do this to me." Michelle frowned. "You can't keep me locked up like this. You know how much I hate it."

"I was worried, I didn't want you by yourself-"

"I know my limits," she said firmly.

He closed his eyes. The strength in Michelle's voice reminded him that although some things were different now, she was still the same person with the same values and feelings. It also made him realise that when the day did come when she learned about everything he had done, she would not take it lying down. He couldn't help but admire her for how she was standing up to him and calling him out after so many years of being silenced right now. At the same time, he didn't quite know if he could believe her claim here. Sometimes, what she thought she was capable of and what she was actually capable of were two different things. Still, it did not excuse what he had just done.

"I can't stay inside forever. Otherwise, that makes you no better than him."

That hurt, but he couldn't blame her. As he attempted to apologise again, she walked past him, back to their room, and shut the door. He heard her sniffle and rested his head against the door, feeling the need to let this serve as a punishment for what he had done. He had crossed the line. He knew that. He had known that as soon as she had turned around after he had grabbed her. He was an idiot, not just for how he had reacted, but for completely disregarding her advice from the last time this happened.

Tony opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find the right words, so he opted to give her space and let her decide when she wanted to talk about it — or let him apologise profusely.

He walked over to the dining table, sitting and resting his head in his hands. After debating it for a moment, he called Renee. She answered on the second ring.

"Hey, everything okay?"

Tony wiped under his eyes. "Not really," he said unconvincingly. "It's not an emergency, but…" Again, he struggled to form his words. It was hard talking to Renee about how he felt, simply because he didn't think he was the priority here, nor did he think she cared about his well-being, and why should she? He didn't feel like he had the right to vent to anyone, especially not her.

"You did it again, didn't you?" she concluded. "You freaked out and upset her."

He huffed. "Yeah."

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked, surprisingly sympathetically. 

He proceeded to explain what had happened, already from a defensive stance since this had happened before.

"She… she's not ready for this."

"She's not, or you're not, Tony?"

He huffed. "Both," he admitted. "I… I'm a monster," he said quietly, his voice heavy with realisation. "God, why do I keep doing this? What's wrong with me?" He was aware that was a rather tone-deaf thing to say to someone who had lost a lot because of him. He expected Renee to make some remark about how he was only now admitting this after making his wife cry and not after killing hundreds of innocent people.

"You want to protect her, and you're scared to lose her. But you don't want her to see that you're afraid, so you put on the tough-guy act and overdo it when you're particularly worried about her — even though she told you not to do that. You also keep forgetting that she's sensitive to you raising your voice, even if you're not necessarily yelling at her."

Once again, he was impressed by how incisive Renee was. That being said, they were basically living together, so that wasn't too hard for her to have picked up. He had fully anticipated her to scold him and tell him how awful he'd been. Instead, he was met with something of an understanding reaction. She hadn't jumped the gun and criticised him; she had just listened.

"I don't blame you for immediately thinking the worst, but at some point, you have to let her go, just a little. Maybe not yet; I agree, it's too soon to tell if she's ready to do something like go for a walk on her own. But it has to happen at some point, in small stages. She might need you, but she's still an adult. She's still her own person." Her tone was fair but not without conviction. "You can't bubblewrap her for the rest of her life. Otherwise-"

"I'm no better than Wilson. I got that part," he said, cutting her off.

"… I was actually going to say she's never going to feel the freedom she deserves." Tony could almost see her raise an eyebrow through the phone. There was a pause. "Where's Michelle now?" 

"She shut herself in our room."

"Look… it's the first nice day we've had in weeks, and we established that the FBI isn't on our tails. Why don't you ask her if she wants me to take her out for a while?" she offered. "I think you both just need a bit of space right now. Maybe you can try to think of a way to let Michelle have some more independence without crossing boundaries for either of you."

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," he agreed, walking over to their room and lightly knocking on the door. 

Michelle responded quietly. 

Tony asked her if she was up for what Renee had proposed, and to his relief, she said yes, which Tony relayed to Renee before she hung up.

He decided not to bother Michelle again as she got dressed, giving her a small smile when she came out of the room. Michelle didn't say anything but didn't scowl at him, either. That was better than nothing, he supposed. Renee soon arrived, and Michelle seemed quite happy to see her.

After they left, Tony decided to take the time to sort through some of their paperwork relating to their new identities and do some housework. At some point, he found himself looking through some of Michelle's prescriptions and the pamphlets for alternative therapies suggested by Doctor Macer. She didn't really want Michelle medicated more than she needed to be. However, it was hard to find specialists who offered more holistic methods, given their need to remain under the radar. A few pamphlets caught his eye, and Tony realised they might just be the solutions he and Michelle needed. Tony hoped she would feel the same way. He was also reminded of an unlikely conversation he had had with a stranger in the first week of being in hiding.

Only when Michelle stopped screaming did Tony hear the persistent knock at the door. He looked at the time and realised it was about two in the morning. It had been one of her bad nights. She had nearly hit her head on the side table from her convulsions, and he had had to hold her down to stop her from scratching herself or pulling her hair. He wasn't surprised if her screaming had been loud enough for the neighbours to have heard. At least, he hoped it was a neighbour at their door and not the police or, God forbid, the FBI. Then again, federal agents didn't usually knock or do so without announcing themselves.

As he glanced at Renee, she had the same worry.

"Go answer the door. I'll stay with Michelle," she said. "You don't want to make them suspect anything else."

He nodded and left their bedroom, only stopping to grab his gun and slip it into his waistband. His heart raced. He had been worried about this very thing, attracting attention to themselves. When he came to the peephole, he saw an older man standing there. If Tony wasn't mistaken, he lived next door. He seemed to have no malice based on his body language, but he could never know.

Tony opened the door and greeted the man as nonchalantly as he could.

The man spoke calmly. "I just wanted to ask you whether everything was okay. My wife and I heard some commotion. We just wanted to check in, being neighbours and all." 

There was a slightly wary tone to his voice. He wasn't sure if that was because he still gave off a gruff and unfriendly appearance or because the man suspected something more devious was going on.

"My wife…" Tony cleared his throat to mask that saying those two words still triggered such a flood of emotion for him. "She's not well. She had a nightmare and was distressed."

"We're sorry if the noise woke you. We understand it's confronting," a voice said from behind. Tony realised that Renee had joined him at the door. That would probably help his case a lot. "I'm… a friend of theirs. I help him take care of his wife."

The man quickly shook his head, the scrutiny fading from his expression. "No, no. I'm the one who should be sorry. It must be very hard for both of you to go through that." 

Tony nodded slightly. "I appreciate that, sir." 

He waved his hand dismissively. "It's Andrew. No need for formality. If you ever need anything, please feel free to reach out. Lizzy and I are just one house down." 

"That's a very kind offer, thank you."

"I know most of the other people on the street. Everyone except you, really. If you don't mind… I would like to let them know of your situation. I would hate for any of them to think something was seriously wrong and take drastic measures."

That would be a good idea, Tony thought.

"We would appreciate that very much," Renee said.

Tony felt his body relax. One less thing to worry about — or, at least, worry a lot less about. 

"My brother served in Vietnam," the man said after a beat. "It was hard for him when he came home. We thought he would never be the same. But you know what did help?"

He tilted his head, and Andrew offered a smile.

"Painting of all things. When he made his art… it was a way for him to heal. A way for him to process what he went through. Maybe something like that could be good for your wife."

"I'll think about that," Tony said genuinely. "Maybe it can."

Tony spent the next few hours driving around, checking with Renee to ensure he wouldn't accidentally bump into her and Michelle when he was trying to give her space. He ended up taking longer than intended, so he asked Renee to stall, hinting at what he was doing, which she seemed to approve of. Renee informed him that she would take Michelle back to her place so she could rest, understandably not able to be out all day.

He had intended to conceal most of the things he had bought and the large bouquet of daisies, wanting to first have another good talk with Michelle before showing her, lest she think he was trying to bribe her into forgiving him. But one particular part of the surprise was taking more time than anticipated, and he cursed under his breath when he heard a car pull into the driveway.

"Damn it…" He muttered. "Sit still, will you?"

Tony turned at the sound of Michelle saying his name. The labrador puppy took the opportunity to dart between his legs and run to Michelle, starting to chew on her shoelaces. The bow he had been trying to attach to the puppy's collar was now on the carpet beside the bag of treats he had been trying to use to coax her into sitting still. Michelle seemed confused but also amused. God, he had missed seeing her smile.

"You, uh, weren't supposed to see her yet," Tony said sheepishly, scratching the back of his head. "I… I'm not trying to buy your apology. I wanted to talk to you first about what happened. Sit with me?"

She nodded, placing her shopping bags down before picking up the dog and joining him on the couch.

"I… I had a dog like this when I was a kid."

Tony nodded. "I know. That's why I chose her. I thought maybe it would remind you of a happier time. We… we had talked about getting a dog after we left CTU, and you said you wanted another labrador."

Just for that moment, something in her lit up from the inside. Tony wished it could always be this easy. He wished he could give her all the good things in the world and take away her suffering, but it didn't work like that. For every moment like this, there were ten moments where he was frankly reminded of what had happened to her.

"It still feels like yesterday. It was the first Thanksgiving with your parents. We had just gotten engaged. Your dad asked me to go into the den to help him with something. I was sweating bullets. I thought he was going to grill me." 

He laughed a little, saddened that once upon a time, making a good impression on his in-laws had been one of the most stressful personal situations he had been in. It paled in comparison now.

"There was a photo of you taken on Christmas morning. You were probably about seven. Your dad noticed I was looking at it and told me that that was his favourite photo of you. You named the dog Diana after Wonder Woman. You took care of her like it was a mission. She died in your second year of college. You were devastated. But you loved her with all of your heart, and she brought you so many years of happiness."

When he met her eyes, she was teary. "You… you remember all of that?"

"I do."

Now that he was looking at her properly, he noticed that her hair was shorter and had a bit more life to it. She had painted her nails as well (or maybe Renee had, given her tremors). Tony also realised that it was the first time he'd seen her in anything other than sweats or pyjamas in a very long time.

"You look beautiful," he mused.

The corners of her lips upturned shyly, and she thanked him.

"How was your day?" he asked.

"Good," she said. "It was… nice to get out for a while." 

He nodded, again feeling incredibly guilty for upsetting her earlier. "I know I said it before, but I'm sorry about this morning. I was wrong. I had no right to do that to you. I… I'm just scared of something happening. That's all. I wasn't trying to control you or stop you, I… I never wanted to make you feel like that. I just…"

"Wanted to protect me?" Michelle finished, looking him in the eyes.

"Yeah," he said quietly. "But I can't let that stop you from living your life. So when I saw the pamphlet Doctor Macer gave you about therapy dogs, I thought we could give it a try. I don't want to pressure you…" He trailed off as he noticed the puppy had settled half-asleep in her lap. "I just… I just thought it would be good for you. It'll be nice to take her for a walk and give us a reason to get out. We can train her to learn how to respond if you have panic attacks. We-" 

Michelle silenced him halfway with a kiss, reassuring him more than she would ever know. "Thank you," she said earnestly. "I appreciate what you said, and I think this is a good idea." Some solemness then came to her voice. "I just want you to understand I spent so much time isolated. I had so many of my basic rights taken away from me, so when you… did that this morning, it made me put my guard up."

Tony nodded in understanding. "I don't blame you. It makes sense, and I should be more considerate of that."

Michelle then squinted at the bag beside him on the floor. "Did you go on a shopping spree today, too?"

"I got a few other things for you," Tony explained. "If there's a storm, you can try earplugs or noise-cancelling headphones with some CDs. I also bought some painting supplies. Art therapy was another suggestion from Doctor Macer. But again… if you don't like it, that's fine. Don't feel bad about the money or anything. We have more than enough."

She seemed to have a mixed expression on her face. He hadn't exactly told her how they had so much money. That was probably one of her many questions about their time apart.

"I just - I don't want to tell you how to manage your recovery."

"You don't need to keep saying things like that. I know you're not forcing me to do anything I don't want," Michelle assured. "Please don't feel like you need to walk on eggshells around me."

"I-I'm not." He covered her hand with his. "I just want to do whatever I can to be there for you."

Michelle shook her head. "The fact that you're here is more than enough." 

He sighed, letting her words speak louder than his constant doubt and concern that he wasn't ever going to be the husband she deserved.

"What's her name?" Michelle asked after a beat, gently petting the dog, now snoring quietly. 

"We can rename her if we want since she's not trained yet, but her papers say Daisy."

Tony felt such a pang of fondness seeing her like that. He wanted to preserve the image of the soft smile on her face forever.

Michelle thought about it for a moment before her eyes fell to the bouquet on the table. It was a total coincidence he had bought daisies, but now it seemed oddly perfect. "I like Daisy."

He smiled. "Daisy, it is, then."

While Michelle still had days where she didn't speak very much, they had managed to improve their communication regardless. It wasn't always perfect, but Tony made a better effort to be transparent, realising he couldn't bubblewrap her forever. The good days almost felt like how they had been before their lives were turned upside down. But the bad days were still there, and although they were understanding more and more about each other with time, sometimes his support wasn't enough, and she would lose some of her progress. Still, Tony admired Michelle's strength and determination to heal. In some ways, she was braver than she had ever been.

At the same time, Tony knew that that very vulnerable part of Michelle was still prominent and unlikely to ever disappear. Having spent nearly six years hidden away from the rest of the world, it often confused or frustrated Michelle when she realised how much time she had lost and how much they had both changed since then. It was hard for both of them to accept. 

In Tony's case, he found himself struggling to let go of the grief that had burdened his heart for so long. Michelle was living and breathing before him, so the bitterness he was carrying felt pointless. Yet he couldn't bring himself to let go of it. Tony couldn't even refocus his anger anywhere because he had no need to. He would never have the chance for revenge now, and, as Renee had made very clear, he should have no desire for it. And while Tony consciously knew she was right, on the days when Michelle needed him the most, he couldn't help but think of what he would do to the people who hurt her if he had the opportunity. 

But in Michelle's case, part of how she expressed her resentment about the years of her life she had lost was insisting on taking on more than she could, forcing herself to do things that they both knew she wasn't ready for.

He woke one morning to find Michelle already awake and looking at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Her fingers skimmed along his chest very slowly and intentionally. When they made eye contact, she started moving her hand lower. She had made a few attempts like this recently, but he had tried his hardest to stop her, not out of his disinterest, but rather, her protection.

Tony murmured her name, trapping her hand with his. 

"Sweetheart…" he said gently. "You know we can't do this. Not after what you've been through. Not yet."

Her look of disappointment made him press his lips together.

"You don't want me?" she asked. "Because of what they did to me?"

"No, no, God, no. That's not what I meant, sweetheart," Tony reassured quickly, brushing a hair from her face.

It still staggered him just how insecure she was and how her mind always jumped to such horrific conclusions. He felt like he told her a million times a day that he was there for her. Yet somehow, it never seemed to be enough. While he understood her spirals were a result of her trauma, a result of her somewhat blaming herself for what she had been through, he still feared that he wasn't doing enough or doing the wrong thing. It was hard for him to see her suffering, especially when it seemed he was never able to help her as much as he wanted to. The hardest part was having to watch her when she was so trapped in the confines of her mind, and there was nothing he could do except softly coax her back to reality. He was so grateful that Renee was there to help, but at the end of the day, Tony wished he could give Michelle so much more. He wished she could be surrounded by people who loved and cared about her. He wished they didn't have to constantly check the street cameras around the house and assume that people might be after them.

But most of all, Tony wished not just that he could give Michelle the world as he had promised but also that she felt like she deserved it.

"Do… do you love me?"

His heart shattered to think that she thought otherwise.

"Yes." He nodded, trying but failing to keep his voice steady so she didn't doubt him for a second. "Of course I do. I love you so much, Michelle."

"Then why don't you look at me the way you used to?"

The fact that he didn't even know what she was talking about made him feel terrible. "What do you mean?"

She sniffled. "You don't look at me like you love me anymore. You look at me like… like I'm sick. Like you feel sorry for me. You don't even kiss me anymore. Not the way you used to."

As if he didn't worry enough about how he spoke to her and how that affected her feelings, now he started to panic about his body language, too. He wished he could tell her something to refute that, but she was right. It wasn't that he wasn't attracted to her or didn't love her anymore; he just spent so much time tending to her that she probably hadn't seen him look at her with anything but concern.

The fact that he didn't say anything right off the bat only made her ruminate further. "Are you going to leave me because I'm like this?"

"What?" He breathed. "No, baby, I'm not leaving you. Why would you say that?"

Michelle pursed her lips. "But you're miserable. I… I make everything so hard. I get upset over the tiniest things. I can't go…" She took a breath. "Two minutes without being afraid that something's going to happen. I'm leaning on you in ways you didn't sign up for. I know it's taking its toll on you. And I know you're disappointed that I'm not getting better-"

He shook his head. "I'm not disappointed in you, Michelle. I could never be-"

"But you try so hard to make me better, and I… I can't do it. It's frustrating for both of us. You don't need to pretend it's not difficult. I just- why do you stay when I'm such a burden?"

"You're not a burden, sweetheart. I… I'm not miserable. Yes, I- I'm tired sometimes, and I worry. But I'm not miserable, and I'm definitely not miserable because of you or anything I have to do to help you. Even on the hardest days, I'm just glad that I'm able to take care of you. I promise you, I'm not going anywhere. And I love you. I will always love you unconditionally." He felt tears prick the back of his eyes. "Why… why do you keep saying things like this?"

"Sometimes I just feel like things would be better if nobody found me."

"No, they wouldn't. It makes me so happy that you're alive and that you're here with me." He met her gaze, hardening his voice. "Nothing will ever change that. You are so much more than what they did to you. You survived everything despite the odds. You held on. You are braver than any damn soldier or agent I've ever met. They thought they could break you, but they were wrong. You showed them all. You're still here. It doesn't matter that you need a bit of help or that you get scared sometimes because you're here. You're alive. And I'm here for you because I love you, and I want to be here for you. I'm never leaving you, okay? Never."

"I… I know you'll stay with me. I know that." Michelle tried to assure herself, and it hurt to see that she couldn't completely. "But I still… I still can't trust everything. Not a hundred per cent." She sniffled. "I was alone for a very long time. I learned that I have to protect myself and that I'm the only one who can. Because if I trust other people, bad things happen."

Tony stroked her hair, hating that he couldn't make her feel as safe as he wanted to. While he wouldn't force her to talk about it if she didn't want to, a part of him wished she would so he could understand.

"I-I'm sorry, I know I'm being difficult."

Tony shook his head. "No, you're not. It's okay."

"I just… the last time I tried to ask someone for help, it didn't go well." 

He furrowed his brow, and she sighed.

"When… when I was there, someone tried to help me escape. He- I don't think he really knew what he was involved in until he saw me and realised." She smiled weakly. "He always tried to sneak me food. He never touched me or hurt me. One night, he tried to get me out. I-I trusted him, and it was the only chance I had." Her face fell. "I remember him saying that he would help me try to find you because he didn't believe you were dead like the records said. He thought someone might be hurting you, too. I remember him saying he would protect me, but… we didn't get very far before Wilson found us. W-Wilson killed him in front of me. They drugged me, and when I woke up, I… I was paralysed. A-And then he hurt me worse than he ever had." Her voice broke, and he pulled her closer to him. "Then I had nobody until Renee found me."

"I'm sorry," he said, realising that this explained part of why she was never quite as happy about making progress as she could be, always afraid that something bad would follow it.

Her eyes crinkled. "He was afraid of Wilson, too, but he still wanted to help me. He didn't have to, but he did it anyway."

There was a solemn silence between them. Tony realised he still hadn't quite addressed what had happened earlier.

"About before… I don't want you to think you owe me anything. I don't want to hurt you."

She frowned. "But it's you. I know you would never hurt me. I trust you."

Tony sighed and sat up to rest against the headboard. He guided her with his arms so she was in his lap, facing him.

"Sweetheart, ever… ever since the FBI found you, I've thought a lot and learned a lot about what you've been through and how it's affected you," he started, very gently, making sure she was looking him in the eye and receptive to what he was saying. "The way I see it, there are two parts of you." 

He placed one hand against her temple. "There's the part of you that's always been there. The part of you that's strong and brave. The part of you that I fell in love with all those years ago. The part of you that understands what you do and don't want." 

He then mirrored his action, resting the other hand on her temple so he was cupping her face. "But then there's the other part. The part of you that's afraid and vulnerable, that always has its guard up and tries to protect you. It's the part of you that tells you not to eat or makes you see things that aren't there. And I still love this part, even though it's new to me. It wants what I want: to keep you safe. I try every day to better understand this part."

He pressed his lips together. "But the most important thing I've learned is that sometimes even if this part," he brushed his thumb over her left temple, "thinks it knows what it's ready for, when it actually happens, the other part," he brushed his thumb over her right temple, "is what takes control and I can't always get through to it. That's what scares me. Because if me trying to be intimate with you triggers anything that reminds you of how they hurt you, then it'll destroy me, and it's going to undo all of the hard work you've put in." 

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. Truth be told, there was a little more to it. He was afraid to do this with her while she didn't know the reality of what he'd done. It felt dishonest. It didn't sit right with him. She deserved to be able to make the decision with full disclosure.

"I… I just don't want to let you down if it's not what you expect. I- As much as I would love to have this with you, I can't risk it. I'm not saying it won't happen again. But I'm saying it can't happen yet."

Michelle went to protest but came up empty, and her woefulness made tears prick the back of his eyes, so he pre-empted this by taking one of her hands in both of his. "Sweetheart, you know how hard it was when Doctor Macer tried to check you, remember?" he pointed out, and she looked away. "I don't- I-I think we both might need to accept that even when you are stronger, I'm just… I'm just not going to be able to make love to you the way we used to. And there's nothing wrong with that. Okay?"

Michelle closed her eyes and nodded. "You're right," she agreed. "I just… I hate this so much, sometimes." 

"I understand it's not easy, but that doesn't change how much I love you," Tony affirmed.

"I asked him to stop, but he didn't," she said after a beat, almost unable to comprehend why Wilson hadn't listened to or respected her. "I-I told him I'd tell him everything, but he kept doing it. I… I wanted you to save me. I used to try to think about it, you coming in and protecting me from him." Those words were like a knife through his chest. "But no matter how much I tried to imagine it, you weren't there. So…  so when I saw him at the FBI, I-I killed him so I could feel safe. But he keeps coming back. Why does he keep coming back? Why won't it stop?"

Tony hushed her so she wouldn't get too worked up, not wanting her to feel like she had to justify what she had done. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I wish it would stop, too."

Michelle moved to rest her head against his chest. He snaked his arms around her waist. She took a few shuddering breaths, trying to ground herself. Her back felt tense from being upset. As much as it was nice to sometimes spend a day in bed, especially when she was in a lot of pain, he also recognised that she needed to go outside for her well-being. It was crucial for her to feel safe, but it was also just a good thing for her to do anyway.

"It's a nice day. Do you want to take Daisy for a walk later?" he suggested.

Michelle nodded. "Can we just lie here for a while first?" Her voice was very quiet.

"Yeah, we can do that." He brushed his hand over hers placidly, observing her unreadable expression. "Is something still bothering you?"

She shook her head. "I-I just need you to hold me."

So, he did, kissing the top of her head and starting to rub her back as they sat there in hopeless silence.

Given how despondent she looked, Tony wouldn't have been surprised if she wanted to go back on her agreement and spend all day in bed. But when the glare from the sunlight through the windows became even brighter, she moved to get up and get dressed.

As they went out with Daisy, Tony noticed the weather seemed to lift Michelle's spirits, at least a little. However, towards the end of their walk, Tony suddenly felt Michelle squeeze his hand – the one that wasn't holding Daisy's leash – very fiercely. He quickly turned his head to find her staring stoically across the street. Immediately, Tony's instinct kicked in, and he started to check for any sign of danger. But he felt his gut sink when she realised there was nothing dangerous about the young family pushing their son in a stroller and walking their dog. It was like the universe had cruelly decided to remind them what could have been.

Michelle said nothing as Tony redirected them back home, but she didn't let go of his hand. It had hurt for him to see that family, too, so he understood. When they came inside, he detached the leash from Daisy's collar while Michelle sat on the couch. Tony then brought over the box of tissues, sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of her.

"That was supposed to be us."

He thumbed at her cheek. It took her a moment to gather her words, and Tony was ready to tell her that it was his fault that they couldn't have this and that she had every right to be upset at him. But once again, he underestimated the depth of the dark place she was in. 

"I'm sorry I can't give you what you want."

"It's not your fault-"

"Yes, it is," Michelle asserted. "We're in this position because of what I did, too."

He shook his head. "You did what you had to do to protect yourself. I don't blame you for that." 

She still didn't look convinced, and it was clear this was another case where a seemingly simple incident brought up a lot from the past that made her react so emotionally.

"We haven't talked much about the baby since you were rescued," Tony pointed out. "Do you think… do you think talking about it would make you feel a little better?"

Michelle pursed her lips but nodded slightly. "I didn't stop bleeding for a long time," she started, her voice barely above a whisper. "I-I know it was because the assault made it worse. But… but every time it happened, it just reminded me of what I'd lost."

Tony stroked her hair, wanting her to know he was there even if she couldn't meet his gaze. "I'm sorry you had to go through that alone and that I couldn't be there for you."

"Me, too."

"You would have been a good mom." He cracked a faint smile. "I know you were nervous about having a kid, but I didn't doubt your ability for a second."

"You would have been a good dad," Michelle echoed softly. "I still remember how happy you were when I told you I was pregnant." The memory pained him so much despite the way his eyes were crinkling. She then made a hiccupy noise. "I want a baby with you. I want one so badly." Her voice cracked. "We… all we ever wanted together was to have a family. It's why we left CTU. But now, I can't take care of myself, and you have to help me, so we can't. We can't do it, I know that. It's not fair for you, and it's not fair for the baby. But even then, we're going to be in hiding forever." She sniffled, looking very hopeless. "What… what are we supposed to do for the rest of our lives?"

Tony would be lying to himself if he didn't admit he had wondered the same thing day in and day out. No matter how much he insisted that all that mattered was her well-being — and he didn't deny that that was the most important thing — he acknowledged that he felt just as lost when it came to thinking about their future. The last thing he wanted was for her to be miserable. At the same time, she was right: they would never be able to do this one thing they had wanted. It didn't mean not having children would make their lives less fulfilling. However, their options were unfortunately limited due to their situation. He hated to see her cry, even though it seemed one of them usually always was these days. But more specifically, he hated when she cried like this, not out of fear, but out of depression. It wasn't just because he couldn't do much about it; it was because, for the most part, it was his fault.

"I'm going to take care of you," Tony said simply. "We're going to find things, little things, that make us happy. And me, Renee, and Doctor Macer will make sure nobody gets in the way of that."

It wasn't the answer she wanted. It wasn't an indication of very much other than his unwavering support. But it seemed to be enough for her because she leaned into him. He touched his forehead to hers and pulled her in for a hug. It seemed that every conversation they had now ended in tears. But Tony hoped that maybe someday that would change. He held her for a little while before she pulled away, looking drained. Even if this conversation was resolved, it seemed she just wanted some space.

"I'm going to go back to bed," she said quietly.

It was only midday. Tony sighed.

"I'll let you know when I make lunch in about an hour, okay? Anything in particular you want?"

She lifted a shoulder as if to say she didn't care before getting up and leaving the living room.

Tony hated the resignation in her expression but hated more that he couldn't do much about it. Still, he felt the need to do his best to assure her.

"Michelle, wait," he called, making her stop and turn, already looking like she was going to cry again.

He remembered what she had told him in the morning, that he didn't show her he loved her enough anymore. While he still had a very valid and reasonable fear that any form of intimacy would trigger her, as well as a sense of integrity about not wanting to be intimate when he was still keeping so much from her, he still understood that she needed to prove that they would get there one day. So, he slowly walked towards her, cupped her face and kissed her. He did it slowly enough that she could pull away if she wanted to, but she didn't, kissing him back in a way that felt more familiar than before, standing on the balls of her feet.

When they parted, a tear had rolled down her cheek, but it was clear that that little gesture meant a lot to her.

"Thank you…" she said quietly. "I… It'll take some time, but you have to know that even though I'm miserable and it's hard thinking about what we could be doing with our lives, that doesn't mean I'm not grateful to have you. You're here with me." There was enough certainty to make him realise it wasn't a lie to placate him but something she genuinely meant. "That's all that matters, regardless… regardless of what's happened. I'll be happy so long as you're here with me."

She hesitated a little as she said that last part. Not because sometimes her speech was slow, but like that had been hard for her to say. Tony didn't need to ask why. He understood that her lack of knowledge about what he had done to land him in jail was still creating a divide between them. And Tony hated that it would likely get in the way of the happiness he had just said he would endeavour to give her.

"Whatever you need to be happy is what I'll give you," Tony assured. 

He couldn't lose her. He couldn't. He was cautiously optimistic that she didn't want to lose him, either, but he had to think realistically.

Because if she wanted nothing to do with him when she found out the truth, then the least he could do was respect her wishes.

Jack walked up to the house, clenching his fists. He had so many questions, and all the answers were on the other side of the door.

It had started with a simple checkup at Doctor Macer's clinic. Jack had mentioned Tony off-handedly, and the doctor had reacted to that in a way that would be missed by the untrained eye but detectable by someone like him. He had shifted the topic of conversation and asked her if Tony had a trial date yet, but she had been unable to answer him. It had only taken Jack looking her in the eye for her to confess that Tony had escaped and that she knew where he was. Sunny had then reluctantly given him an address and warned him to ensure he wasn't followed and that nobody —  especially anybody from the FBI — knew where he was going. While Jack had been angry to think of her complicit in something like this, he had also figured it would be better to take out that anger on Tony rather than her. Jack told Tony that day that he needed to go to prison to atone for his actions. Jack might have said that when he didn't know the full extent of Tony's plans, but he still believed that was what he deserved. So, to think he was out here living his life after everything he had done made him furious.

He knocked on the door impatiently, then did it again, a little louder, when he heard no response. His confusion grew when Renee Walker opened up; she didn't quite seem surprised to see him but had a very guilty look on her face.

"Jack…"

"Where is he?" he asked shortly.

"Look-"

"I know Tony's here." Jack shoved past her, calling his name and pulling out his weapon, unable to know whether to trust her, too. "How could you do this?" he said, turning to her. "After everything he's done, you're helping him."

Renee shook her head. "You don't understand," she said firmly.

The sound of Tony's voice asking what was going on made Jack turn and see red. Within seconds, Jack was using one hand to hold Tony against the wall and the other to push the barrel of his gun under his chin.

"You couldn't even stay in prison?" he hissed. "Was anything you said that day true?"

"Jack," Renee repeated warningly. "Don't do this. Let us explain."

"Stay out of this!" Jack barked. 

Tony's stony expression flickered, but Jack was too determined to maintain control of the situation to notice. Renee protested more insistently, begging him to calm down and listen to her. Tony did, too, his voice oddly soft as he met his eye.

"Stop it!" a voice suddenly screamed. It was female, but it wasn't Renee. Then, all was silent. It took Jack a second to realise he recognised the source. But that wasn't possible. It couldn't be possible.

Jack realised he must have loosened his grip slightly because Tony took the chance to push him away. As Jack looked where Tony was going, he felt Renee grab his bicep, silently telling him not to move. 

He was almost startled by the soothing nature of Tony's voice as he spoke. "Sweetheart, give me that, please."

But this was not the Michelle that Jack remembered.

She shook her head. "They're coming back," she pleaded in a monotonous tone. "He's going to come back. He's going to hurt me. Please, don't let him hurt me."

Tony remained very calm despite her still having the gun raised. "No, he's not. He's gone. Everything's okay. Michelle, give me the gun. Please."

"No," she insisted. "He's coming back."

Again, Tony kept his patience, but his tone was firm enough. "Baby, you're safe. Put the gun down."

Michelle squinted at him a little like she was registering his words. Her defensive facade came down, and she started shaking. That seemed to be enough for Tony to know she believed him because, in one swift motion, he smoothly took the gun out of her hands, flicked the safety off, placed it on the kitchen counter, and pulled her in for a hug.

"Don't let them take me again, please," Michelle murmured.

Her clothes were practically falling off her. She looked very pale, very tired, and was clinging to Tony for dear life. Jack felt his stomach sink. He realised that something truly terrible must have happened beyond injuries from a car bomb. Tony guided her over to a chair. She had her head between her knees and was breathing in hiccups as she whimpered.

"It's alright, it's alright," Tony said, reassuring her. Jack remembered the way his voice used to soften around Michelle, but he was even more gentle now. "Breathe with me." He had one hand on her shoulder and the other on her knee, which Michelle was squeezing tightly. "It's okay, sweetheart." 

Michelle wouldn't sit still, and Tony had to hold her so she would look at him. Again, she started saying what she had said before. Her eyes kept flitting about. It was clear that Michelle was distressed, and this happened often. Renee tugged Jack's arm, and he let her move him away. Most of his anger had shifted into concern.

"I- I don't-" he started.

Renee took him to what looked like a small study, shutting the door behind them to give Michelle and Tony some privacy. They sat down, and Renee seemed to be looking at him with sympathy.

"It's good to see you," she whispered with a very small smile.

Jack almost forgot that the last time she saw him, he was on death's door. "Yeah," he agreed, returning the smile ever so slightly. "What… what happened to Michelle? She died in the explosion. I saw the autopsy photos."

She shook her head. "She nearly did die, Jack. She was rushed to a CIA medical clinic and was comatose for months."

"CIA?"

"They apparently keep an eye on inactive agents in case of things like this. There was a mix-up: CTU grabbed Tony before the CIA got there." Renee huffed. "As it turned out, the CIA wasn't as safe as they thought because Alan Wilson was monitoring her." She said the name with nothing short of abhorrence. "Once they knew she was lucid, they ambushed the place, killed everyone there, and took her. He had his associates torture her for over five years."

Jack didn't need the details; he understood exactly why Michelle had reacted viscerally to him. He also couldn't help but think of Audrey, knowing her situation was similar. He hoped someone was caring for her with as much dedication as Tony and Renee were showing here. Still, he was cognisant that Michelle had spent much more time in captivity than he and Audrey had. Jack felt his stomach sink with guilt. Of course, he couldn't have known Michelle was here, but he didn't doubt that he had terrorised her with the nature of his arrival. He should have stopped to hear Renee out. Jack should have trusted her. Jack did trust her. However, things still weren't adding up.

"Tony… Tony said he wanted to get Wilson alone, that that was all he'd worked for. Why didn't he tell me that Wilson was holding Michelle?" 

"Because he had no idea," she answered simply. "The only reason Michelle is here is because the FBI happened to search a few of Wilson's properties. I'm the one who found her."

"So… so they let him go into Witness Protection with her? Then why didn't Sunny tell me that?"

She tutted. "They didn't let him into Witness Protection. Or Michelle. I… I helped them both escape." There was a sense of shame in her voice, but she didn't seem to have regret.

His eyes widened. "Why? After everything Tony did, why would you-"

"Because in Michelle's darkest days, Tony is the only one who can give her light, and no matter what he's done, she doesn't deserve to suffer for it. She needs him. Not as a husband but as a caregiver, Jack." Renee hardened her voice. "It's also because Michelle has no idea what he did, and when she does find out, it's going to be a lot for her to process, but she'll still need someone to take care of her. I forced her into this situation for her protection, so the least I can do is be responsible."

While he was still reeling from Tony's betrayal and the shock of this, he was ultimately understanding of what Renee had done — especially since it was clear she had not made the decision lightly.

"There are days when she's almost the Michelle I read about. I see that when she's at her strongest and standing up for herself," Renee explained. "Then there are days when she's reduced to tears by the slightest thing out of her comfort zone and terrified that if Tony's not there for two seconds, she's going to be kidnapped again. There might be fewer days like that over time, but I know that she still needs him." 

There was a slightly distant look in her eyes.

"She needs familiarity. She needs to be taken care of by someone who loves her and respects her. Ultimately, that was more important to me than trying to punish Tony, and, well, it's not like he's living the life he wanted. He might be with Michelle, but he's had to step up and take responsibility. Most importantly, he will have to tell her what happened in the time they were apart, and… well, he deserves to have to deal with the fallout."

Before Jack could form a response, the door opened, and Tony walked in. He looked exhausted. 

"Is Michelle alright?" Renee asked.

"Yeah, she's asleep. It took it out of her."

Renee nodded but still seemed quite concerned. "How the hell did she get the gun?"

Tony huffed. "She knows I keep it nearby for our protection. And, well… she thought we needed protecting."

Their gazes met, and Jack wasn't met with anger, to his surprise. "Tony, I… I'm so sorry."

Tony shook his head, leaning against the wall and closing his eyes. "It's okay. You didn't know. She wasn't having the best morning before you got here anyway." 

"With all due respect…" Jack started. "Maybe Michelle needs more help than what you can give her."

He pressed his lips together. "I-I know that. But we're not just in hiding to protect me." Jack squinted at him, and he lowered his voice. "Michelle killed Alan Wilson at the FBI." 

He then went on to explain how. Renee filled in the gaps since Tony hadn't been there. It was clear both of them worried a lot about Michelle.

"I should have stayed with her that day," Renee said, dismayed. "If I hadn't left her, she wouldn't have felt unsafe."

"You didn't have a choice, Renee," Tony said sympathetically. "It wasn't your fault. You were trying to comply with the FBI's demands to make sure they didn't force you to leave."

Jack was almost shocked by the level of compassion between them. Despite everything that had happened, they were somehow able to set all of that aside because they both cared about Michelle.

"She was so close," Renee said glumly. 

Jack furrowed his brow at her. 

"Michelle was so close to the Michelle that you knew from before all of this. She was helping me with the investigation. She was Agent Dessler again. Then I found her covered in blood, and she hasn't been the same since. She's been… more vulnerable than when I found her in the first place. I just- I have to believe she's still in there, but… it'll take time."

As Jack looked around the study, he noticed a series of paintings stacked neatly against the wall. The colours were very dark. He could see a lot of blue and a lot of red.

"She paints," Tony explained quietly. "It helps her." His voice cracked slightly, and when Jack looked at him, he saw tears in his eyes. 

"I might go make something for Michelle to eat and check on her. She'll need to take her meds soon." Renee offered, breaking the slightly awkward silence. 

Tony said nothing but seemed to have no objections to her getting up and leaving. The silence returned, and Jack realised that he hadn't seen Tony emotional like this since that moment in the van when David had explained what had happened. That was the only point during that day that Jack had looked at Tony and actually felt like he recognised him.

"She has panic attacks and flashbacks. A lot," Tony suddenly started. "She needs help with things. She can't be by herself. It's hard to tell whether it's all because of the trauma and her need to defend herself. Sunny thinks she might have had some brain damage from the bomb based on the CIA report. We… we know she hit her head when she fell, so even if Wilson didn't take her, I… she would probably still need help with some things," he explained. "There… there are days where I can't leave her side without her getting anxious, then there are other days where she needs her space. I see glimpses of the old her. I know she's still the same deep down, but that part of her is buried under so much fear. And I know in an ideal situation, she would have a community around her and more people to help support her. But because of what she did, she has to stay hidden like I do. I have to give her my best. I don't have a choice."

It was clear that Tony didn't strive to do what he could just because of Michelle; Tony clearly based his self-worth on his ability to care for her.

"Sometimes, she won't speak for anywhere from a few hours to a few days. Those times are the hardest. I have such little to go on to figure out what she needs, and I always feel like a failure." His voice broke. "Those days make me so aware that I am all she has. But I have to push through no how much it hurts to watch her struggle to do basic things for herself. I'm scared of losing her, but I'm terrified of something happening to me and her being on her own, which is why Renee is here. She's the only one who can look after her if I die. I trust her. And Michelle does, too. Renee's so good to Michelle. She's like a sister to her. If it wasn't for what Renee did for us, Michelle would be locked up in some institution and drugged out of her mind. And I can't have that." 

Tony wasn't even bothering to try to hide his emotions anymore.

"I've never had to wonder how much she's suffered because I see it every night when she goes to sleep." He swung his head slowly. "But it doesn't stop when she wakes up. She… she sees things that aren't there. It's… Sunny thinks it's a form of psychosis from her PTSD. She doesn't remember things properly. She's paranoid. She thinks everyone is working for Wilson and out to get her, no matter how much I try to tell her she's safe. She's so out of it that she doesn't even remember when she has these attacks sometimes. But even then, she knows if I'm there. If she doesn't feel me… she thinks she's alone and that I've abandoned her, so her mind resorts to doing whatever it thinks she needs to do to be safe. The one time I left her alone, I came home to find her trying to slit her wrists. Do you understand, Jack? Do you understand that I'm doing this for her?"

Jack nodded with understanding.

"But the hardest thing is that no matter how hard I try, it's not enough. I have to push her to take care of herself so she doesn't waste away, right down to sitting by her side and encouraging her to eat," Tony said, pressing his lips together. "Sunny referred to it as a kind of eating disorder. It's…  it's not because she's worried about how she looks; it's because she's so traumatised from what they did to her that she's afraid. If I don't cook the food in front of her or she doesn't see it come out of a packet, she won't eat it. Or even if she does eat, she'll make herself throw it all back up again. She thinks it's drugged and that someone's going to take advantage of her," he explained.

He remembered dealing with a much milder form of that fear after China. For a while, he couldn't even look at a bowl of oatmeal without thinking about the drug-filled sludge they used to give him.

"When you looked at her, how long did you think we'd been here for? How long did you think that we've been taking care of her?" He smiled through his tears. "The way she looks, you would think she's been home for a week, two weeks, a month maybe." He shook his head. "It's been almost a year, Jack. Almost a year, but she's still about as frail as she was when Renee found her." 

"I'm so sorry," Jack whispered, feeling the need to say it again, not because he was blaming himself, but because he wanted Tony to understand that he wasn't bitter enough to not have compassion and empathy for Michelle.

He smiled wetly, and Jack felt a pang in his chest.

"But by God, she tries," Tony said, and the pride on his face made Jack struggle to contain his sympathy. "She's been through so much, but she's so brave and so strong, and I am so proud of her for holding on. Some days are okay. Some days, she'll eat and be able to do some things for herself. If we're lucky, she might not need me there the whole time. But it's hard. It's unpredictable." Tony finally mustered the strength to look up at Jack. "I know you hate me for what I did, and you have every right to. But I can't give her what I promised her all those years ago. I can't give her a family under these circumstances. I can't give her stability when I don't know if there'll be a day when we'll have to drop everything and run for our lives. What I do know is that she's going to need help, maybe for the rest of her life. So let me take care of her. Please. I have no angle, no ulterior motive, nothing, Jack, except her."

For as long as Jack had known Tony, he had understood that he was fiercely loyal to those he loved. Jack had seen that loyalty put to the test more than once now and had no doubt that he prioritised Michelle over anybody else. It was why Tony had let himself cross so many lines, lines he never thought he would consider crossing. It was why he had allowed himself to become a shadow of his former self, only sustained by a thirst for revenge. But now that revenge had been proven useless and exchanged for something very different. While part of him fiercely believed that Tony should be held accountable and punished for what he had done, not for the sake of abiding by the law but for the sake of personal atonement, that part of him was overridden by the circumstances here.

Renee then came back in, looking between them. 

"Michelle wants to talk to you, Jack." 

His eyebrows lifted. "I… I don't want to upset her-"

"Jack, it's okay," Tony affirmed. "If she wants to talk to you, then she wants to talk to you."

Upon seeing the assurance in his expression, Jack got up and followed Tony down the hall towards their bedroom. Tony suddenly put his arm out and stopped him like something had just occurred to him.

"You're not sick at the moment, are you? Or anyone you've been around?"

"No, why?"

Tony bit his lip, dropping his arm. "Her lungs are weak; we try to stay well so she doesn't catch anything."

Jack nodded, then walked into the bedroom after Tony. The word comfort immediately came to mind. He could smell lavender. There were several vases of flowers and potted plants on the shelves, as well as piles of books. Michelle was sitting up in bed. There was a tray in front of her, the cup and plate empty, and a fidgeting dog on the floor beside the bed. She smiled when she looked up at him. Tony walked in front, looking at the tray and then at her.

"You finished it?" Tony murmured, and she nodded. "Good, sweetheart," he praised. "That's really good."

He kissed her on the forehead and took the tray before leaving the room. Jack tentatively sat down on the edge of the bed, and they both watched with slight amusement as the dog took immediate interest in him, dropping a stuffed duck at his feet. It stood on its hind legs, trying to get on the bed. Michelle nodded, so Jack picked the dog up and placed it there. It then trotted over to sit in Michelle's lap.

"I won't bite, Jack," she said quietly, and he realised he must look very nervous. There was a slight stammer to her speech, even now that she was calm, and something about the tone was different, but the familiarity of hearing her still shocked him as much as it had when he had come in.

He shuffled a little closer, and at this proximity, he could see a few scars on her face and neck. She still looked very tired. She also still seemed a little restless; she was idly picking at a thread on the blanket. He could also tell that there was something a little distant there, not that she was spaced out, but the light he used to see there, that ever-surging optimism even at the darkest of times, was all but gone. Even when she had been in the depths of misery after her divorce, she had maintained her strength. She might have become colder in that time, but she'd never let herself show weakness. But now… she was so vulnerable that she didn't have the energy to put up a strong front. There was no more pretending. She had changed, irrevocably. Still, she managed a very small smile.

"It's good to see you," Jack mused.

"It's good to see you, too," she agreed softly.

Jack looked down when he felt her fingers graze his skin. She brushed over the scar on the back of his left hand, tracing it delicately from start to finish. She did so with understanding, like she knew, even without explanation, that he had suffered in a similar way to her. He remembered how she had squeezed his hand before he walked out onto those train tracks, the sun rising above him. It was staggering to think that was the last time he saw her.

"How… how are you? Tony and Renee told me you were sick," Michelle asked, her voice so quiet that he had to strain to hear her. "That's… that's why you didn't know about me."

He smiled slightly. "I'm okay now."

"And how's Kim?" It spoke wonders of her that she was kind enough to ask him about her.

Jack sighed, thinking about how he hadn't called her yet today. "She's good." 

"I'm glad. The last time I saw her, she wasn't." 

He nodded, recalling that Kim had mentioned how good Michelle and Tony had been for her in the time after he faked his death. "She, uh, she's married to someone who treats her well. They have a daughter. Kim named her after her mom."

Jack detected the slightest pain in her expression beneath her otherwise sincere smile. He remembered Tony telling him while he was in hiding that Michelle was pregnant. Given how miraculous it was that Michelle had survived the car bomb and everything after, it was understandable that their child had not.

"You were going to kill him," Michelle said.

"What?"

Michelle gave a tight-lipped smile. "You were going to kill Tony," she repeated. "You would have if I wasn't there. Which means that what he did was worse than I thought."

He didn't know what to say to that, mainly because he didn't know if that was true. Would he have let Renee talk him down? Would he have heard Tony out? Or would he have pulled the trigger without thinking because it was the only way he could feel worthy of forgiveness from the people who had suffered because he had chosen to trust Tony implicitly that day?

"I-It's okay," Michelle said, attempting to sound convicted. "I… I understand that he's hurt you. And even though part of me needs to know what kind of man he turned into after losing me…" She took in a shuddering breath. "Part of me also needs him and loves him regardless because I can't be without him anymore."

Jack covered her hand with his, noticing she was on the verge of tears. When she met his eyes again, something seemed to occur to her.

"I-I'm sorry." She sniffled. "I'm sorry I told them things about you."

He tilted his head.

"Wilson asked a lot of questions about you," she explained. "I-I tried my hardest not to talk when it came to those. I did. I mean it. I promise you-"

"Hey, hey," he stopped her rambling, squeezing her hand a little to ground her. Jack wanted to hug her, but he didn't want to assume she was comfortable with that. "It's okay, Michelle. I know what you've been through. You've had to endure so much, and I know that one of the reasons they took you probably was me. I'm… I'm so sorry for what happened to you."

It looked like those words meant a lot to her. He was sure it had lifted some of the guilt from her chest, but he knew her: she had a sense of duty rivalled only by his own. She would have been devastated every time she lost the battle between staying alive and staying silent.

She shook her head. "It's not your fault." Michelle hardened her voice. "I will never regret helping you disappear, and if Tony is the same man I fell in love with, then he shouldn't, either."

That meant more to him than she would ever realise. When he had found out that Tony was alive but had not bothered to find him, Jack had concluded that it was because Tony had blamed him for Michelle's death and that guilt had only resurfaced here. Even though Michelle was alive, Jack still held himself responsible for what had happened to her. So the fact that despite her vulnerability, she was able to tell him fiercely not to blame himself gave him all the reason to try. He truly agreed with Renee's words now. Michelle didn't deserve to suffer the consequences of Tony's actions. And by the sounds of it, Tony had stepped up to try and be better. He would never undo what he had done, but he could at least make it up to Michelle. Jack could trust that Tony wouldn't resort to those ways again so long as Michelle was alive. And even if she did leave him when she found out, somehow, he didn't see Tony returning to that kind of life again, either.

"Do you feel safe here? Are you happy?" he asked. 

Michelle nodded. "They take good care of me."

That was all he needed to hear. Michelle would know the truth one day, and maybe that answer would change then, but for the indefinite future, she had a place to call home and people she could trust. After so many years on his own, Jack understood that need all too well.

He sat with Michelle a little longer before she decided to get out of bed and freshen up. When he reentered the living room and met Tony's eyes, he gave him a look of understanding, the look he should have given him when he first saw Michelle earlier today. Renee and Michelle then went to leave to take the dog for a walk, but Michelle hugged Jack before she did so, quietly thanking him for his honesty and his visit.

"I should probably go; I don't want to make this any riskier for you," Jack decided, looking between them.

Renee still seemed to look somewhat hesitantly at him. Tony and Michelle took the hint and gave them some privacy.

"I was out of line before," he admitted. "You're doing something so good here, and I know Tony and Michelle are grateful for that. I should have realised there was something more here and that you never would have done this if it wasn't for Michelle."

"Thank you," Renee said, looking at the floor. "I… I admit that it's not easy. Every day, I think about how disappointed Larry must be in me, how I've thrown away everything for them. But every time I look at Michelle, that guilt goes away because I realise that this isn't about me: it's about her and what she needs."

He placed a hand on her bicep. "You did the right thing. It was a difficult choice, but you made one that was compassionate and fair to Michelle."

Renee finally met his gaze. "It was the only one I could live with."

The dog barked impatiently, and Renee called out that she was coming. He then went to the door, watching them walk off, leaving just him and Tony.

"I… I'm not going to get in the way of this," Jack concluded. "I can't. I've seen enough people get hurt because of what you did, and you're right: Michelle doesn't deserve to be part of that. She needs to be protected, and it's clear that you, Renee, and Sunny are the only ones who can do that."

"Thank you," Tony said gratefully. "I… I just want her to be safe. I want her to be happy. I want her to heal."

"She will, Tony. She's strong. She'll get there," Jack reassured. "But give me your word that you will tell her what you did."

He nodded sombrely. "I… I will. I promised Michelle, I promised Renee, and I'll promise you."

Tony didn't know what happened when Jack and Michelle talked, but he felt a shift in the air for the rest of the day. It wasn't the familiarity of knowing when Michelle was pushing herself or otherwise on the verge of a breakdown. No, she seemed okay, and he doubted Jack had said anything to upset her anyway. But Michelle seemed tense when she spoke, at least to him. He spiralled to the point of insanity. Had Jack told her something about that day? He couldn't have. If he had, Michelle would not be this calm. More than that, Jack would have known better than to drop that on her, even if she asked him to tell her. Was he just overthinking it? Still, Tony didn't press Michelle on it. If she had something to say, she could do so when she was ready.

As Tony got into bed, he realised that maybe she hadn't needed that much time because she stood by the bed, folding her arms.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Jack was going to kill you," she stated, meeting his eyes with a very serious and determined look. "I need to know what you did."

Tony sighed. "Sweetheart-"

"No," Michelle said. "I need to know, and I need to know now."

Tony sat up from his reclined position, crossing his legs and asking her to sit.

She obliged but shook her head when he rested his hand on her knee.

He watched as she took a breath before she went to speak. "I know I might not be very strong right now. I know things have changed, but I'm not going to let you hide from me anymore. You can't do that."

She was using all of her strength to convince him of this, and Tony knew by the look in her eyes that this was not a spur-of-the-moment request. This was not her trying to do something she wasn't ready for. No, Michelle knew what she was asking for and had prepared herself as much as possible for the answers. She would not allow him to coddle her and delay this any further. She had made up her mind, and he had to respect her choice. He was frankly terrified since he hadn't been expecting to do this for a long time. A naive part of him had wondered if this moment would ever come, somehow believing Michelle would just accept that it was all in the past so they could move on together. However, seeing her now made him realise he was stupid to doubt that Michelle's integrity could ever be defeated.

"You're right," Tony agreed. "If… if you want to know, then… I'll tell you."

He couldn't go back on his promise, especially since he wouldn't just be letting Michelle down but Jack and Renee as well. Although his relationships with them were somewhat strained, he still respected them enough to honour that. Still, even if Tony intended to follow through here, he recognised how difficult it would be. It was one thing to think about telling Michelle. It was another to actually form the words, say them aloud, and observe her reaction to them. It was yet another to think about the potential consequences and see them unfold.

"I want you to know that I don't expect you to forgive me or try to understand why I did what I did." He pressed his lips into a thin line. "I don't want to place that burden on you. That's not what this is supposed to be. This is about me being transparent and telling you what you deserve to know. And…" He sighed. "If you despise me for everything I've done, I won't blame you. In all honesty, I'll be surprised if you don't despise me, which is why Renee has everything prepared for you to leave. She'll take you somewhere safe and look after you, and you can have nothing to do with me if you want."

Michelle looked horrified by the mere thought. He wasn't sure if it was simply imagining them being apart again or because she was contemplating whether it was actually possible she would elect for that to happen.

"So, I guess I'll start at the beginning," Tony said, feeling his nausea grow by the second. "After the bomb went off, I woke up at CTU. I… I asked about you. Nobody told me anything until I found your medical records." His voice broke. The memories from that day were terribly easy to recall. They sat just beneath the surface, such that if he focused hard enough, he could remember it all at once. "Jack told me that there was a conspiracy and that Christopher Henderson was behind it. As soon as I realised he was the one who set Jack up and killed you, I felt this… this anger. I felt like my only responsibility was to make sure he was brought to justice. I tried to kill him, but I hesitated. At that moment, I swear to God I heard your voice. I heard you tell me not to do it. But that anger was louder, and as I went to do it, he killed me first."

She looked sympathetic. "They… they never told me that in the hospital. That you were dead. But I couldn't really talk much, and then I was taken before I could ask."

Tony realised with a chill that the fact that Michelle was never explicitly told he was 'dead' was likely the only reason she had bothered to stay alive.

"I woke up in the compound of a mercenary named David Emerson. He told me that he would protect me and help me hunt down the remaining members of the conspiracy. And since Jack was gone…" Tony shrugged but his indifference seemed to concern her. "I let him. The anger I'd felt was still there. It was the only thing I thought I was capable of feeling. I… I ran his crew for several years, and not a day went by when I thought about how disappointed in me you would be."

Tony felt Michelle's hand tilt his chin up, forcing him to stop looking into his lap instead of at her. Her eyes may as well have been staring into his soul.

"I-If you don't want to hear the rest. If you're not ready, I-"

She moved her head from side to side without breaking her gaze.

"At the same time, I was trying to understand who was behind the Sentox conspiracy, and every time I found one lead, I found three more people behind them. It made me sick. It made me realise that everything I'd ever tried to serve was a lie and that the only way I could atone for what I'd done was if I put an end to this." His cheek twitched a little. "Eventually, I found out Wilson was at the top of the food chain."

Michelle still reacted to his name, no matter how carefully he said it.

"I managed to get a way in through one of his cabal members, but I wasn't going to be allowed in the same room as him until I convinced him that I was on his side and believed in his cause."

"So… so you looked into Wilson, but you didn't figure out that he had me," Michelle concluded with disappointment.

"No." If only he had. They probably still would have ended up in hiding but at least it would have been sooner. "I… it took me so long to find him, and when I finally had my answers, I just needed to see it through."

He realised the next thing he would have to explain was how exactly he got close to Wilson and why Renee and Jack despised him so much. But he could already see Michelle was more distressed than when he had started talking.

"Finish it," Michelle said thickly, ready to defend his half-assed attempt at telling her they didn't need to go through everything now. "Tell me the rest."

As much as he wanted to protest, he had to respect her wishes — even if those wishes would hurt her. So he did. Tony felt shame consume him as he went on, but he somehow found it in him not to look away. He would never forget the way she looked at him right now. It wasn't just disgust or disappointment. It was a lack of recognition.

Something seemed to occur to her. "What was his name?"

"What?"

"You keep talking about Agent Moss, but you haven't bothered to name any of the other people that you killed," she pointed out. "You know his name, and you're not saying it for a reason. What is it?"

Tony swallowed the lump in his throat. "Larry Moss," he confessed. "He's the agent I killed."

"As in… Renee's Larry? The one who was there for her after what she went through?"

"Yeah," Tony answered, making her huff. "But, at the end of the day…" He blinked back tears, seeing how heartbroken she was. Unfortunately, he respected her far too much to try to soften the blow. "I can't even say I regret any of this because you wouldn't be here if the FBI didn't know about Wilson."

"Oh, God…" she whispered. "Oh, God, what have you done?"

Michelle started shaking, and she pulled away as he instinctively went to hold her. Tony could have understood if she was afraid of him, but she wasn't. She was understandably gutted by everything he had just told her, but her anger and betrayal still shone through. He was ready for her to scream at him, tell him what a disgrace he had become and how much she hated him. But she seemed very intent on not exploding. She didn't even want to look at him.

"Go," Michelle uttered brokenly. "You need to go, and you need to ask Renee to come here."

Tony wiped under his eyes. "Okay," he whispered, turning away. He didn't want to cry in front of her. He didn't want her to feel any sympathy for him and be conflicted.

He stood up and walked out of the bedroom, not daring to look back. With shaking fingers, he called Renee. It was a blessing she had been there for them for so long because Tony knew he only had to say one thing for her to understand: "I told her everything."

Renee got there very quickly, not asking any questions about how it had gone down, clearly prioritising Michelle. She handed Tony the keys to her place so he could stay there indefinitely. Until Michelle made a decision about him leaving, he couldn't risk going anywhere like a motel or even just driving aimlessly on the road, so the other safe-house would have to suffice.

It suddenly hit him that this wasn't just going to be him in the doghouse for a few nights. No, as he reflected on their conversation, he became aware of how permanently he had messed this up. He didn't care about how much he suffered. He deserved it.

But Michelle didn't.

"Renee, wait," Tony said suddenly, making her still and turn to him.

"Make sure she eats. Make sure she takes her meds. Make sure she sleeps," Tony begged. "S-She's worked so hard. Don't let her waste away."

Renee nodded. "I'll take care of her."

The bedroom door opened and closed as he heard Michelle start to weep. He paused, allowing himself to hear, allowing it to truly make him feel remorse for what he had done. This was his fault. All of it. The part of him that didn't care about what he had done because it had enabled Michelle's rescue would now coexist with the immeasurable guilt he could feel in every fibre of his being. She was more devastated now than she had ever been, not even in their first reunion when he'd had to tell her goodbye.

And that devastation made him know, undoubtedly, that there was no coming back from this.

Although Michelle had spent a long time wondering what kind of things Tony had done for him to receive the charges he had, even with her extreme guesses that had ended up being partially correct, the shock of hearing those words from his mouth had still hit her like a ton of bricks. There had been so many points in his story where she had hoped to hear him explain how he had never intended to let things get that far, that it had been part of a cover, or that someone else had been in on it to prevent harm. Unfortunately, she had been let down almost every time. It had brought her some comfort to know that he had decided to go to Bill and Chloe. But she was still affronted by how many years he had spent actively choosing to do such horrible things before finally deciding to draw the line. Worse still, he had betrayed everyone in his path to get to Alan Wilson. He had lied to Jack. He had kept things from Bill and Chloe. He had tricked the FBI into trusting them, then murdered federal agents in cold blood, without a care for the fact that he — and she — used to be them.

Tony had not exactly seemed pleased by his actions, but it had made her pause when he confessed that he still believed it had all been worth it to get her back. Tony hadn't known she was alive. Tony hadn't known that she was held captive. Tony hadn't known anything. It had been sheer coincidence that his actions had led to her rescue. She did not doubt that if she had died in the car bomb and Tony's only fulfilment from his actions had been to kill Alan Wilson, he would still consider it justifiable. It terrified her that he had become so callous. It also, unfortunately, explained a lot. Although he had been loving and gentle to her during this period, those few times when he had raised his voice or been too insistent on her physical care scared her. Michelle knew he had changed. Acts of terrorism and treason aside, it had been a long time. She didn't expect him to be the same as before. But she had never imagined he would become so cold that it affected how he spoke to her and looked after her.

She didn't know what to do, but she did know that she did not want to look at or speak to him. If he needed something from the house, he could come to the front door, but no further. She made that clear to Renee, who had no objections. She was so grateful to have her. The day Renee came down those stairs, looked her in the eye and told her everything would be okay had brought her back to life. Reuniting with Tony had certainly been assuring but the moment was ultimately shattered by being torn apart again. However, seeing Renee had been like an angel descending from the heavens to take her hand and lead her away from her suffering. For a moment, Michelle had convinced herself she was dead, but the feeling of relief flooding her had only affirmed to her that she was alive and breathing. When she put it like that, it sounded overdramatic, but after so many years of darkness and despair... it had been everything. Michelle had always dearly appreciated Renee being there for her. But now that Michelle knew just how much Renee had suffered from Tony's actions, it spoke wonders that she had still decided to put those emotions aside and treat her not just civilly but like family.

For the first night or so, Renee had held her while she had cried her eyes out, comforting her when her nightmares cruelly decided to incorporate her imaginings of Tony's actions. 

Michelle didn't know how Renee could be so kind to her after everything Tony had done, everything he had taken from her. And yet, here she was, hushing her and rubbing circles on her back with total compassion.

"Why?" Michelle whispered, taking a shuddering breath. "Why are you being so nice? Why have you sacrificed so much for me? Why don't you hate me?"

"Because I care about you," Renee answered simply, and Michelle just couldn't fathom how she could partition her from Tony.

She frowned. "But you shouldn't."

"But I do because none of what he did is your fault, so you don't deserve to suffer for it."

Michelle leaned into her more, trying but failing to believe her words.

"I'm sorry about Larry."

"Michelle, it's not your-"

"I- I know," she said unconvincingly. "But I'm still sorry. I'm more sorry than I was before."

Renee took a long breath. "He would have liked you. I think you would have seen eye-to-eye on a lot of things."

"From the way you talk about him… I think I would have liked him, too."

But then Michelle had tried to assert her independence, telling Renee to sleep in the other room as she had been. The first attempt hadn't gone well; the combination of loneliness and heartache had been too much to bear. Michelle had ended up going to Renee, who had shuffled over to make room without a word.

Still, no matter where she was, she couldn't sleep. All she had done since asking Tony to leave was let her mind run wild with scenarios about what the future held. It was overwhelming, to say the least. She had so much information, terrible information, that she didn't know what to do with. She wasn't able to undo his actions or try to make up for things. For one, she wasn't exactly a federal agent. And even if she was… there wasn't very much to be undone. People were dead. Their families would never get to see them again, and no medal of valour or financial compensation would ever change that. If it was one thing she didn't like, it was being in a situation where people were suffering, and she couldn't help. This was about more than just being mad at Tony; she was also very upset that she couldn't even try to rectify his decisions, most, if not all of which had been done in her name. She tried her best to make that little voice in her head, the one telling her that she was to blame, shut up. It had not been her fault. It had not been her fault that she had been captured, nor had it been her fault that CTU and the CIA had fatally miscommunicated and induced their separation. She had long since made peace with the fact that even if she hadn't gotten in her car, one way or another, those people would have gotten to her. She might not be as strong as she used to be, and she might not always be able to articulate it the way she wanted to, but she damn well wouldn't blame herself. 

Michelle knew this was not a decision she could make overnight. But, more importantly, she knew she could not justify being totally irrational in the meantime. As hard as it was, she knew she had to take care of herself. One, because striving to get better was one of the few things in life that kept her going. Two, because now Renee was back to managing the bulk of her care on her own, and that wasn't fair. Renee had had to deal with enough; she could make things easier for her where she could. She would eat and try not to question everything so much. She would try to have faith that Renee was keeping her safe. She would take Daisy for a walk where she could and stay on top of the PT stretches she had been neglecting. She would not let this, of all things, set her back.

Unfortunately, letting this anger and determination drive her was only beneficial for a short period. After pushing herself to her limits for a few days, she found herself sitting, panting, and crying in the shower, every part of her body hurting. It wasn't fair. None of this was fair, from the fact that her body would forever be a mark of her suffering to the impossible situation of having to decide whether she could look past her husband's actions in favour of having him there for her.

"Here," Renee said, passing her a towel before helping her out of the tub. "You did well today."

She scoffed, her arms trembling too much to even get herself dressed without Renee's assistance. She had to lean on her for the short distance between her ensuite and the bed. Even with Daisy half-resting on top, Michelle realised how big and empty the bed looked. She shook her head. She would not make this decision simply based on the fact that she missed him. She had to think long and hard about the implications of her decision one year down the track, two years, five years, twenty-five years… assuming she and Tony even lived that long; she was not exactly the epitome of health and with the way he had been revived from the dead, she doubted he was, either.

As they lay in bed, her head resting over his chest, all silent save for the sound of his heartbeat, she realised something. At first, she thought it was nothing. She found it comforting to ground herself in the rhythmic thump of his heart when she was overwhelmed. But right now, she was doing it out of habit, so she was a little more aware of it. Every now and then, his heart would skip a beat. He seemed to be breathing calmly and slowly, so his comparably erratic heartbeat didn't sound right.

Michelle lifted her head and met his eyes. "Something's wrong with your heart."

Tony furrowed his brow.

"It's… it's not stable. You're having palpitations. Something's wrong."

But, to her confusion, he seemed to both know what she was talking about and not be fazed by it.

"When they treated me after the car bomb, they had to restart my heart. It's nothing to worry about."

She frowned a little. "Please don't lie to me."

He shook his head. "I'm not. It's okay, Michelle. I'm fine."

Michelle decided to shift her position when she lowered her head, too unnerved by the thought of wondering what had happened to him when he had woken up at CTU alone.

There she was again. Thinking about him.

Michelle sighed, putting her head between her knees as she sat on the edge of the bed. She wiped a tear from under her eye. God, why couldn't she do anything other than cry? Why couldn't she be strong? Why couldn't she prove to herself that she was capable of being objective? Was she that dependent on him? She didn't want to have to stay with him just because she needed him. That wasn't fair. She deserved to be able to make this decision based on what she wanted, not just what she needed.

"Look, Michelle," Renee said, making her look up, "there's no pressure to make a decision any time soon. But I want you to understand that you have my full support, and whatever you decide, I'll still be here for you. That won't change."

Michelle nodded. That meant a lot. She still felt guilty that Renee was essentially bound to her for the rest of her life. Renee had made choices she couldn't undo — ironically, also for her sake. Some days, especially today, Michelle really didn't feel worth it. Renee should not have thrown away her career and her freedom just for her. But she had, and Michelle had to consider that in her decision. Although Renee certainly wouldn't have a problem helping to take care of her, she didn't deserve to have to do it alone.

"I've been preparing for this for a long time," she went on. "Tony and I talked about the different ways you might react when you found out what he did and what would be best for you. We agreed that you might want to leave. If that's what you want to do, Tony has a fake ID and enough money to flee the state or the country, so he wouldn't be putting you at risk."

What did it say about her that her husband was so convinced she would leave him that he had everything prepared to live as a fugitive? Was he basing it on the fact that she had left him before? Or was it because he knew that morality was such an integral part of who she was, so he didn't feel worthy of being in her life and completely respected that she would want nothing to do with him?

"If you don't want to leave him, everything will stay as it is. But if you don't want that, either, there is a third option. It's riskier, though."

She furrowed her brow.

"I've been keeping an eye on your family. Your parents are in New York, so they're not far away. If you wanted, I could set up a fake ID, and you could live with them. Your brother's in LA, so you wouldn't be able to see him often, but we could arrange for him to come up."

They didn't know she was alive. Logically, that made sense. The FBI had kept her very secure, especially in the early days. But her heart sank as it hit her that they had still been mourning her all this time. They didn't deserve that. But they also didn't deserve to suddenly be bombarded with having to care for her like this or the paranoia of having to watch out for law enforcement. In a way, it was almost better that they kept thinking she was dead. They would suffer one way or another but at least they wouldn't be so burdened.

"As much as I want to see them, I… I can't do that to them," Michelle decided. "Most people my age are getting to the point of taking care of their parents, not suddenly needing them back in their lives. I can't make them live like they're in WitSec, either. It's not fair."

"We could try going to see them," Renee suggested. "It'll be a lot for them and for you, but it might help you clear your head by being away from here."

It couldn't hurt, she supposed. She would feel guilty whether or not she did it. She was too aware of them now to be able to put the thought aside. And Renee did have a point about getting away for a while.

"Alright," Michelle agreed. "We'll go see them."

That weekend, they set off on a long and mostly silent drive to New York. Michelle was anxious, not just at the prospect of danger but also at the thought of how this would affect her parents. She debated making Renee turn the car around with increasing frequency as they neared the house. But they soon passed the point of no return, and Michelle realised she had to commit to this. 

She watched from the back seat as Renee made her way to the door, placidly stroking Daisy's fur as she rested in her lap. Her heart leapt in her chest when it opened, and she saw her father. Soon, her mother joined him. Even from the car, she could see her parents had aged in a way that was entirely indicative of the grief they had been carrying for so long.

Renee's voice was slightly muffled by the glass. "I'm from the FBI. I need to talk to you both about your daughter."

Their faces were solemn, and Michelle had to resist the urge to open the door. She didn't want to frighten them.

"You must be mistaken," her mother said apologetically. "Our daughter's been dead for almost eight years."

"That's what you were falsely led to believe." Renee took a breath. "She was held hostage by a terrorist until we found her about eighteen months ago."

Her father blinked at her a few times. "Eighteen months? How… how could nobody have told us?"

"We feared that the people who hurt her might come after her or you. We still do. There's… there's a lot to explain, but I'm sure you'd rather hear it from your daughter."

Michelle took that as her cue to open the car door, letting Daisy step down first before she carefully got out of the car. Her mother clasped a hand over her mouth, and her father's eyes were bright with tears. They must have quickly realised that she wasn't as strong as she used to be because they crossed the short distance from the door to the driveway, and before she knew it, her parents were both hugging her fiercely. There was a slight unfamiliarity to their touch, and when they took a good look at her, she could see the sympathy in their eyes. The weakness of her body, the hollowness of her face, and the visible scars on her arms seemed to horrify them.

Her father invited Renee and her inside, helping her to walk along the way. When they sat on the couch, Michelle hated that what she was about to tell them would only upset them more. It was a long story to tell but also a difficult one. There were parts where Renee helped give context and answer the, understandably, many questions her parents had. But there were parts that she did not go into detail about. Even Renee and Tony didn't know everything. Some of these details she had privately told to doctors when necessary. But others, she had kept to herself, only recently coming out through her painting. 

However, another challenge was the barrier between what she wanted to articulate and what came out of her mouth. It helped to be around people who knew and understood her. But there were still moments of frustration when she simply couldn't communicate what she wanted. The worst was when she was anxious or having a panic attack: her mind would race, but her body couldn't keep up, leading her speech to be even more fragmented, repetitive, or worse, non-existent. Nothing was more terrifying than feeling like a prisoner in her own body, unable to express herself accurately or efficiently. Writing was an option, but even then, her hands shook so much, and her joints ached, so that wasn't any easier. Having Daisy there helped, too, even though she had gotten a little too big to sit in her lap. She grounded her and kept her in the present when her mind wanted to send her back to that basement.

By the end of it, her parents were both in tears, furious and heartbroken at what had happened to her. They were also quite stunned at what had become of Tony. True to her prediction, they were quite conflicted as Renee explained that she was effectively living off the grid and that it was a risk just to be near them. It seemed they wanted to help but didn't know how and were, understandably, afraid of the potential consequences.

"Your brother's going to be so happy to know you're alive." Her father smiled wetly. "He… he was so shattered the day he called to tell us what happened."

Of course. Danny had been her closest next-of-kin after Tony. An agent would have come to his doorstep and told him that she and Tony were dead. Michelle wondered whether it had been Bill.

"I have a burner phone with me." Renee looked through her bag and pulled it out. "But you can't talk for very long without being susceptible to tracing."

"How long?"

"About a minute."

Her father slumped his shoulders. "That's not nearly enough time. Why can't we use our phones?"

Renee shook her head, her voice solemn. "The people after Michelle might suspect we would try to contact you or Danny. They could be listening."

Her parents looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

"What if I call him?" Michelle suggested. "He'll… he'll be a bit confronted, but it'll get to the point."

Her mother bit her lip. "Your brother isn't exactly the best with his emotions. What if he's so shocked that he somehow exposes you or puts himself in danger?"

That was a valid point. God, why had she done this? Her parents shouldn't be forced to make such daunting decisions like this. This was her responsibility. She could tell her brother. She could make sure he wouldn't talk or try to investigate.

"I'll make sure he understands. I… I can do this. I want him to know."

Renee passed her the phone. Her father recited her brother's phone number. It still hadn't changed from all those years ago. Danny had always been stubborn, right down to holding onto old phones and computers until they were beyond salvageable.

Danny sounded confused when he answered, likely because this was a private number. But just hearing his voice made a lump form in her throat. She reminded herself they were on a timeframe. Her mother had moved her watch into her field of view so she could see.

"Danny, it's me."

There was a pause. "Is this a joke?"

"No, it's your sister. I'm… I'm alive."

He was at a loss for words. Michelle wanted to give him the time to absorb this, aware of how cruel this was, but she couldn't.

"I can't talk for long, but I just want you to know that I love you and that I'm okay. I can't tell you where I am. I can't see you just yet. And you can't tell anybody. Please."

"M-Michelle, I-" His voice wobbled.

"I know. But you can't because there are still people after me, and I don't want them to come after you or your kids. I just- I wanted to tell you that I'm okay."

He was sniffling. "D-Do Mom and Dad know? Michelle, they'll be so happy-"

"They do now. But they have to keep it secret just like you do."

Ten seconds. It had to end.

"I'm sorry, I have to go. I love you."

"Michelle!-"

She hung up with three seconds to spare and immediately clasped a hand over her mouth to muffle her sob. She had just bombarded Danny with such shocking information but couldn't support him in any way without risking their lives.

Her mother wrapped her arm around her and pulled her towards her. Daisy perched her head on her knee. "I-I know that might have been a lot for him, but you have to know that he's going to be very happy to know you're okay. Thank you, honey."

When she stopped crying, Daisy curled up by her feet. Her father tilted his head at the sight, clearly reminded of her childhood dog. "I still have that photo, you know. I made about five copies when we moved, just in case."

She smiled. Getting Daisy had been one of the most thoughtful things Tony had ever done for her. It seemed like yesterday that she had been as tiny as a stuffed animal. She had to try not to let the memory of that day come to the forefront of her mind.

Michelle looked out the window. It was getting dark. Getting through that story had taken longer than she had anticipated.

"We… we might need to get going soon," Michelle lamented.

"No, not yet. Stay," her mother implored. "I… I understand this is dangerous. But just for one night. Please."

Again, Michelle had to wonder whether this had been the best call. She had done to her parents what the FBI had done to her by letting her have that precious reunion with Tony before snatching him away just as quickly. 

She looked at Renee, who seemed to have thought about this. "A night or so won't add risk. It's okay."

Michelle looked at her mother again. "We'll stay."

To have something as simple as a home-cooked meal with her parents meant a lot. It was almost stupid to admit, but she was proud of herself for being able to eat without demanding that she watch how the meal was prepared at every step. The voice of paranoia was still in the back of her mind, but she was a lot better at making it shut up than she used to be. It was difficult for any of them to speak without getting emotional, but having Renee there acted as a buffer. Her parents were incredibly grateful for what she had done to keep her safe. She knew Renee carried a lot of guilt about breaking Tony out — even though it hadn't been for him, per se. Michelle hoped hearing that validation would do something for her.

Renee offered to take the foldout couch while Michelle took the spare bedroom. It was a little uneasy to be somewhere new, especially since she hadn't been back in New York for a long time. She moved to California for college and only visited a couple of times a year after that. But her parents had downsized to an apartment years ago, so it wasn't exactly familiar aside from the handful of photos around the place. 

Michelle managed to shower by herself, but as she got dressed, she was startled by the sound of a gasp. She turned to see that her mother was on the verge of tears. It took her a moment to realise that she was staring directly at one of the large scars on her back. Michelle placed her hand on it.

"Mom, it's fine," she said, trying but failing to sound reassuring. "They don't hurt anymore."

She swung her head from side to side. "God, what did they do to you? How… how could this have happened?" Her voice hardened with anger. "Why didn't they look for you? Why didn't they know?"

"The man who did this to me had connections high in the government. Nobody could have known."

"They should have." She frowned. "That's not good enough."

Michelle finished pulling her shirt over her head and crossed the room to hug her. "I'm here now."

"You've always been so strong," she commented, sniffling. "Stronger than me, stronger than your father." She made a so-so motion with her head. "Stronger than your brother, but don't tell him I said that."

Michelle laughed through her nose. "Thank you for… for everything. I'm so sorry I've put you and Dad in such a difficult-" 

She shook her head. "You're my daughter. Nothing is more important than that. I'm just- I'm so happy to know you're alive. Even if we can't see each other much anymore, you have no idea how good it is to know you're okay."

Michelle squeezed her back, finding herself teary again. "I love you so much."

"I love you, too, honey."

When she got into bed after, she didn't expect to sleep much. Even with Daisy nearby, she was too restless. Deep down, she was also afraid of having a nightmare that might upset her parents more — or worse, wake their neighbours. But it became almost impossible when she heard both her parents crying in the other room once the lights were out. She closed her eyes, tears starting to stream down her cheeks. Why was this so hard? Why did everybody in her life have to suffer so much? She wished she could just find a way to accept her circumstances. She wished she knew what to do. She wished she didn't have to live with such fear. In a way, she almost wished someone would make this decision for her. But it was because Renee, Tony, and her family cared about her that they were giving her autonomy here. 

Michelle decided to get up and pour herself a glass of water. To her surprise, her father was already in the kitchen, doing the same.

"Couldn't sleep?"

She nodded, and he got another glass for her and filled it without skipping a beat.

Michelle took a sip, sighing. Even something like this, a quiet moment with her father, was something she would hold onto dearly. After having everything taken from her, she was aware of every little privilege in her life. She had to take what she could get. It was clear she was not immune to the curse that befell most federal agents and made them and their loved ones suffer.

"Agent Walker told me about what happened with Tony the other day," he said, breaking the silence.

Michelle chewed the inside of her lip. They had somewhat gone into the details during their first conversation but hadn't really spoken much about why Tony wasn't here with them. Renee had obviously answered some more questions while she had been in the shower. "I didn't just come here because of that-"

"I know. It's okay. But if you can't stay long, then the least we can do is help you figure out what you want."

"Dad, what Renee told you about what Tony did barely scratches the surface. He did bad things this time. This is not like when he saved my life. He did these things thinking I wouldn't be around to see them."

"I'm not saying I agree with what he did or that you should forgive him," he clarified. "But I have the feeling you're thinking about this decision based on what you think is right and not what's right for you."

She lifted a shoulder. He had a point. But those things were so intertwined. She valued morality. She cared about doing the right thing. She always had. Living with a guilt complex because she let the man who destroyed her honour back into her life did not sound appealing in any way. At the same time, never seeing him again didn't, either.

"I just- I don't know what to do. He's hurt the people I care about. He's made mistakes that he can't undo. How am I supposed to sleep at night knowing what I know now?"

"How would you feel if it was someone else?"

She furrowed her brow.

"If it was a friend like Renee who was in your position, would you judge her if she chose to stay with someone who had done bad things but took good care of her?"

"Of course, I wouldn't."

"Then why are you being so hard on yourself?" He smiled a little. "I mean, you always have been. It's why you ended up in a job where you got to make the world a better place. But now… things are different, honey. It's not your job to be that person anymore. Nobody is going to criticise you for what you do here. You're away from the world. You're away from CTU. So the only person left to judge you is yourself."

But it was her own judgement that mattered the most. Sure, it helped that, unlike when Tony had gone to prison to save her life, there weren't spectators here. She could make this decision herself. But she had to be able to live with it. She would have to be able to live by accepting that Tony had done things that couldn't be reversed. She would have to live by accepting they would never get the years they spent apart back. She would have to live by accepting that she and Tony would never be the same again. Was that the life she wanted? It sounded difficult, but a life without Tony would be, too. She knew what that was like. She had spent two periods of her life without him, one by her own accord and the second by force. Neither had been good — torture aside. Did she really want that again? After Renee had sacrificed everything just for her and Tony to be together, she was going to throw that away?

Her mulling was interrupted by her father's hand on her shoulder. "Get some sleep, pumpkin. You don't have to have all the answers yet. But when you try to find them, don't think about what would make everybody else happy. Think about what would make you happy."

Michelle allowed the corners of her lips to upturn. "Thanks, Dad," she whispered. 

She managed to get a bit of sleep. But, as always after any emotional stress, her body decided to follow up. She woke with a grimace, finding her back and joint pain to be flaring up. She had luckily thought to bring painkillers with her, but they weren't always enough. Her parents were kind enough to bring her breakfast in bed. It would be a few hours before she could stand and make it to the car, and even then, she would need to lean on Renee again. Renee sat on the edge of the bed, trying to keep Daisy from eating the bacon. Her parents went to make copies of photos to give to her. It would be nice to have some around the house. All of their belongings had been either given to their parents and siblings or sold as part of their estate when they 'died'. Tony had mentioned that Emerson recovered a few items for him, but they were in a bank deposit box somewhere in DC, so he couldn't risk getting them without exposing himself. Part of the reason the safe-house felt so isolating sometimes was because it wasn't a house of memories. There weren't any photos or sentimental items, simply because they had none. She couldn't look around and recall pleasant things that had happened there. Rather, she could identify the corners of the house where she had had her worst panic attacks.

"Your dad is right, you know?" Renee said after a while.

Michelle looked up at her.

"You know I'm a light sleeper. I heard you get up and went to see if you needed anything, but he beat me to it," she explained. "And all those things he said to you, about this being your choice, and how you need to think about what you want, not what you think is right, are true. I'm not saying you and Tony should go back to being happily married. But I also think, given the circumstances, leaving him is something you can't undo. Maybe you just need different boundaries, and you won't have the same kind of relationship as you used to, but at least he'll still be able to be there for you and take care of you. I'm not saying this because I don't want to take care of you, because I do. You're my family now, and I would be more than happy to support you for as long as you want me to. But I know that Tony helps you open up in some ways that I can't."

"But he's hurt you," Michelle reminded her, still unable to understand why Renee was being so nice about this and not shipping Tony off herself. "He's hurt Jack. He's done horrible things. Don't defend him. I don't want you to do this just because you feel sorry for me."

"It's not about feeling sorry for you; it's about what you deserve, Michelle. I'm a victim of his actions, and I'm telling you this is okay. Nobody could resent you for that. I care about you more than I care about punishing Tony. It's why I did all of this. To protect you and help you heal," Renee explained, begging her to listen. "Jack told you the same thing, that he just wants you to be happy and safe, that he can put his anger for Tony aside because this is more important."

Renee's words were earnest, and she wanted so badly to believe them. Maybe she could get over the guilt of staying with someone who had hurt the people she cared about. But could she really get over the current resentment inside of her? Would she let it build to the point where it drove a wall between her and Tony, and they were miserable? Granted, they made a promise when they got back together the first time to not do that and to communicate better. The few sessions of couples counselling they had had helped, too. Talking about it would make her feel better, but how often would they end up in the same place: her upset that there was nothing they could do to change what he had done and him saying that he was sorry but not sorry enough? There were too many possibilities. And one thing she hadn't considered very much was what Tony wanted. Sure, a bitter part of her believed that after everything he had done, she was the one who had the right to decide this, and that was true. But his opinion mattered, too — even though it seemed he was willing to go along with whatever she decided. Yes, this was her call, but that didn't mean they couldn't discuss this.

Once she felt she could stand, she allowed Renee and her mother to help her freshen up. The grin on her father's face as she caught him playing with Daisy was priceless.

Their goodbye was just as teary as their reunion. But it was clear it had lightened something in her parents, just to see her alive and mostly well, and that was enough for her to know she didn't regret this. Her parents each hugged her one last time before she spoke.

"I… I can't promise when we'll see each other again, but I love you both so much."

"We love you, too, darling. If there's anything you need, we'll help you."

They helped her into the car, and Michelle resisted the urge to look back as they drove off. She didn't want to see them crying again; she wanted to preserve the memory of them grateful and happy to have had this moment with her.

"They'll be okay, Michelle," Renee assured. "I know it was a lot for them, but it did more for them than you might think. The way they looked when they saw you…" She sighed. "It took a weight off them. And I know that the only thing they want for you is for you to be happy and safe. That's all any of us want for you."

"I know," Michelle agreed. "I just… I don't know what I want. Everyone is telling me to think about what I can live with, but I don't know."

"You don't have to know yet. There's no timeframe for any of this. But I think you and Tony should talk," Renee suggested as though reading her mind. "Nothing he can say will justify his actions, but it would give you some insight. Maybe something will come up to make you realise what you have is still worth saving. Or maybe it'll affirm that he's gone too far, and it's over for good this time. Either way… I think you need to talk to him."

Michelle nodded. "You're right."

It took several days from arriving home before Michelle went to see Tony. Most of that was due to her ruminating, but part of it was wanting to rest so she could be strong enough for the confrontation. Reuniting with her parents had been both physically and emotionally tolling. She didn't want to burst into tears as soon as the conversation with Tony intensified. Granted, she knew it would be emotional but she felt she needed to conserve her energy to assert herself.

Renee dropped her off and told her to take as long as she needed. She would have brought Daisy, but somehow, she felt like she had to do this on her own. Renee had checked that Tony was home, but he still seemed very surprised to see her.

She had missed him so much, more than she wanted to admit. It hadn't even been that long, but something in her had eased by seeing him. It was why she had tried so hard to see him while in FBI Medical: those early days had been so consumed by fear and paranoia. He had been the only one to make her feel safe. And while Renee had become someone she trusted irrevocably, sometimes Tony was still who she needed. That acknowledgement should make this decision easy. But it was hard for her to admit she needed help. This healing process had humbled her significantly, but she still believed she needed to be okay with being with Tony, regardless of whether or not he was taking care of her.

Tony still hadn't spoken, so Michelle decided to take the lead. "Can I come in?"

He nodded. "Yeah. Of course."

When she walked inside, she half-expected to see the place littered with beer bottles and in disarray. But, to her pleasant surprise, it was quite clean. It did not look like Tony had been trying to make the place look good to impress her, but rather in a way that indicated he was doing okay. The place was barely furnished. Michelle had only seen it a couple of times. Renee didn't use it very much, and certainly not in recent times, so it made sense that it was mostly empty.

"Do you want something to drink? Renee, uh," he scratched the back of his head, clearly very nervous, "Renee has that tea you like."

"I'll have a cup," she agreed with a small smile.

It was clear it was enjoyable for him to tend to her, even for something simple. At the beginning of their relationship, she had wondered whether his attention to detail and little acts of kindness had just been part of him trying to win her over. But she'd soon realised he really was just like that. When he cared about someone, he would go to the ends of the earth for them — although when it was her, it was more like the ends of the universe; this time together in the safe-house had proven that. Neither of them could have ever expected her to be this dependent on him. But he had taken that duty in his stride, persevering and trying to improve when he got things wrong, and she could not disregard that.

Tony invited her to sit on the couch as he placed her cup on the table. He then pulled up a stool from the breakfast bar, holding his mug. It smelled like he had made coffee.

"How…" He took a breath nervously. "How are you?"

"I'm alright. What about you?"

He seemed taken aback that she would even ask him such a thing.

"I'm… I'm okay."

Silence followed again. Both of them took sips, clearly trying to make this less awkward. There was so much to say, but neither knew where to begin.

"Renee and I went and saw my parents." She decided to say.

His eyebrows rose. "Oh. That's… that's great, Michelle. Are they alright?"

Michelle nodded. "Yeah, they're okay. It was, uh," she cleared her throat, "a lot for them to see me, but it was nice. I called Danny, too. Didn't talk for very long, but…" She sighed. "It was nice to hear his voice."

He hummed in understanding.

"I've also, uh, done a lot of thinking. About us, about… everything."

And yet, she still didn't know what she wanted.

"I-I need you to know that I love you."

His expression fell like her words were a precursor to something disappointing. It was like he assumed she had come here to tell him she was leaving. Although she knew better than to let his reaction dictate her decision, it did make her pause.

"You've done things that… I don't think I can ever forgive you for or look past-"

"And you don't have to."

She shook her head. "I… I realised that what bothers me is not just that you did those things or that you did them in my name. It's not even about how it hurts to think you betrayed Jack and Renee and put Kim in danger. It's that the only reason you even thought to stop or consider feeling guilty was finding out that I was alive." She looked up at him. "Do you realise how hard it is for me to be in that position? Do you realise how much it scares me to think that if I left you, you might go back to that?"

He pressed his lips together at that last sentence.

"I'm never going to be that guy again. I promise you. I'm not saying that because you're here. I'm saying that because I don't want to be him again. I don't want you to think you need to stay because you're the only one keeping me grounded. I am sickened by the man I became, and yes, you're the reason for a lot of that, but I swear to God… please don't do this because you're worried about me."

"I'm not," she assured. "I just- I want you to understand my perspective in all this."

He hardened his voice. "Michelle, you don't need to justify how you feel. You have every right to hate me and what I've done."

"I don't hate you, Tony," Michelle was quick to say, her voice soft as she was aware of how much he was projecting. "I hate what you did. I hate the circumstances we're in. I hate every second we've spent apart. But I don't hate you."

"You don't have to lie to protect my feelings."

"Don't get me wrong, it upsets me that you aren't being punished for what you did because if you were anybody else, I'd want you to rot in prison for the rest of your life and live with your guilt. But you're not anybody else: you're my husband. And no matter how much I want to act like my integrity completely overrides my love for you, unfortunately, it doesn't. Especially not now when I have to rely on you to take care of me."

"Nothing you decide has to be permanent. If you want me to leave one day when you're stronger and don't need me as much, I will."

She shook her head. "Tony, we both know that day's not going to come. There's a limit to how much I'm going to get better, and I'm probably there already. Age isn't going to do me any favours, either."

"You'll have Renee-"

"I know I will, but she's suffered enough because of you, and the last thing I want is to burden her more. And unfortunately sometimes... you're the one I need," she admitted. "It's not that she can't do it: she can, and I love her for that. She really is like the sister I never had. It's just that when I don't know what is and isn't real, somehow hearing your voice brings back memories that help to ground me. I… I'm very lucky to have you in that sense. Lucky sounds like a pretty bad description, but in a way… we are. So many things happened to us, and yet we're still here. We're not the same, but we're still alive. And we don't have very much besides each other."

She had hoped that the more she spoke, the more her brain might come to a decision, but it hadn't. However, observing his and her reactions, made her realise that maybe her heart had. Just being here with him, even under tense and slightly awkward circumstances, felt right. She was aware that it wouldn't always be this easy. But life wasn't easy. And if she thought about how much she and him had endured, it would be ridiculous to give up on their relationship just because they knew it would come with hard days. More than that, she was aware that Tony didn't seem to value his own well-being here very highly. Maybe he needed her, too, and it wasn't just about what was best for her but what was best for them. Initially, she had thought that being in a relationship where they slowly drifted apart from being unable to change the past wasn't right for either of them. But maybe it wouldn't be like that. Maybe if they both tried to heal with each other, it might be a little better. It wouldn't be perfect, but no marriage was. And it would sure as hell be better than being apart. She didn't want that. As she looked at him and thought of everything they had been through, good and bad, she knew to the depths of her core that she didn't want that. 

"My dad told me that I have to decide what's right for me, not just what I think is the right thing to do, and that's hard for me. Those things are so intertwined. But I've tried my best to follow that advice and realised that despite everything… I still want you in my life. I hate the position you've put me in. I really," she took a shuddering breath, feeling her fists clench and tears prick her eyes, "I really hate it. But I can't sit here and be mad at you because I don't have the energy for it, and it won't help either of us. That's the thing, Tony: I'm tired. I'm so... tired. I just want the least miserable option, and I know I'll be happier with you than without you." 

Tony was stunned and already seemed ready to protest, so she went on.

"There are going to be good days and bad days. On the good days, we might be almost how we used to be after we got back together. On the bad days, I might not want you in the same bed or even the same house as me. It won't be because I want to punish you. I just want you to face the consequences because you should. You shouldn't feel remorse because of me. You should feel remorse because the man I married shouldn't be okay with what he did. I have to believe that man is still in there. If he wasn't, we wouldn't be here. Spending some time on our own and having some space isn't a bad thing, either," she pointed out. "One thing I've realised since we came to the safe-house is that since we don't work anymore or get out very much… we are around each other a lot. Some of that is necessary. When things are really hard for me, I need you close. But maybe as we each heal and move forward, we use that distance to keep us sane."

He seemed deep in thought. Michelle prayed that he wasn't searching for an excuse or a way to point out how this wouldn't make her happy. 

"So, can we do that? Can we try to get through this together? Because I really don't want to be apart again. I just- I don't."

It took him a moment to speak, and when he did, he looked her in the eyes, his voice sounding very moved. "You… you really still want to try to work through this? Even though you know you won't be happy?"

"There's so much uncertainty to all of this, but if there's one thing I know, I won't be happy without you. I hate it. I hate it so much. And maybe I won't always be happy with you, but those little moments where I am will make it worth it. Whatever years we have left, I want to spend them together."

"I won't hold you to that," he said, his voice choked. "I won't. Please. You don't have to do this for me."

Michelle shrugged a little. "I wish I could be strong enough to say that after everything you did, I have the right to assert that this is all about me and do whatever I want, regardless of how it affects you, but I… I can't," she confessed. "I don't have a lot of energy for anything anymore. I certainly don't want to use what I do have just to try to punish you and make you miserable. That's… that's stupid and pointless because it won't change anything. Even if some days we're both upset... at least we'll be together. That's just it. Neither option will make us happy, not completely, but we'll be there for each other, and that has to make a difference."

Tears were streaming down his cheeks. She rose from her seat and wrapped her arms around him. Tony buried his face against her chest as he broke down. She held him fiercely, tears blurring her vision. Tony might not have felt guilty about his actions until she had come back into his life, but she knew that he had suffered nonetheless. On one hand, guilt was the closest thing to punishment that he might ever get. On the other hand, after everything he had been through, she just wanted him to have a good life. She wanted them to have a good life.

"Thank you," he said thickly. "I know I don't deserve it, but thank you."

She kissed his temple. "You deserve to be loved. You show me that love every day in every way, and you deserve to have it back."

He leaned into her as though reaffirming that this wasn't a dream and she was really here telling him this. She was tired of the idea of them happy together being a fantasy. It wouldn't be perfect, but they would do their best, and that would be enough.

"I love you so much," he whispered.

"I love you, too."

Eighteen Months Later

Tony stood there and watched her for a moment, appreciating how peaceful everything was. There was a slightly cool breeze coming in through the open window. Daisy was asleep in her bed, curled against Luna, the black labrador they adopted about six months ago. He then walked into the room quietly, knocking on the doorjamb so he didn't startle her.

Michelle looked over her shoulder and smiled at him. "Happy anniversary, sweetheart," she said, her voice a little cracked from sleep.

Despite having two marriage dates to celebrate, they believed it was more fitting to celebrate the anniversary of their reunion. It felt truer to their situation rather than dates from a lifetime ago.

"Happy anniversary to you, too," Tony said quietly, pressing his lips to her shoulder and snaking his arms around her waist. "You're up early again," he commented.

"I wanted to work on this while I could watch the sunrise," she explained, leaning into his touch.

He hummed in assent, looking at the painting on the easel. It had started as such a simple idea: painting to help process her trauma. But it had warmed Tony's heart to see it evolve into something so meaningful for her. It was incredible how much emotion could be conveyed through her work. Although she would never say it about herself, he thought she had a beautiful talent for it. Her paintings served as a timeline of her recovery. The earlier paintings were an almost frantic mix of darkness and anger, with a lot of blues, greys, and reds. She hadn't spoken much about what they meant, maybe because they were more representative of her emotions rather than her experience. He treated them like pages of a diary, things that didn't need to be shared unless she wanted to. 

But over time, something had lightened in her art. Now, she took her time with them, savouring every brushstroke and being meticulous with details. Tony believed the fresh start they had made after working through things was a big part of it. While they were grateful to Renee and the safe-house she had gotten for them, they had eventually agreed to buy a large property out in the country. It gave them increased protection by having a better idea of who was nearby. This also offered a greater sense of stability since the likelihood of needing to move was smaller. Being a little closer to nature was nice, too. It gave them more room to garden, and more homegrown food was never a bad thing.

Renee still lived with them, too. He and Michelle had offered, more than once, to find a way to give her her life back. But Renee had insisted on staying. She said she cared about Michelle and that being there for her was something she wanted to keep doing. Truth be told, he and Michelle had come to like having her around a lot, too. Although he and Renee would always have tension between them because of what he did to Larry, it had faded a little. They saw eye-to-eye on more than they realised, most importantly, Michelle. It was hard to argue with that. But they had stressed that if Renee ever changed her mind, they would help her. The three of them had a good system going on. Between gardening and the small herd of farm animals they were gradually adding to the property, they had enough independence and tasks to keep them busy.

Tony watched Michelle paint for a while, simply resting his head on her shoulder before moving to sit on the couch as she continued to work. The fact that she could stand for this long spoke wonders of her strength, although she still had a stool to sit on if her back flared up. There were still days when she couldn't do as much as she would like, but she had come so far from those early days. He and Michelle were doing a lot better than they had anticipated, emotionally, too. Not every day was perfect. Not every day was simple. But they could certainly agree it was better than being apart. There had been many long talks about his actions during her capture, most of which had ended in tears. It was hard for her knowing there was nothing they could do to change or fix them, but at the very least, she had found a way not to let it affect her too much. As he had once said to her, their life now consisted of as many little joys as they could find. His anger and bitterness had slowly faded, too, and he now found purpose not just in keeping them safe but also in ensuring he did whatever he could to be better than he had been. 

Eventually, Daisy stirred and trotted over to Michelle, nuzzling her leg. Luna followed suit, whining to him for food, so they both decided to feed the dogs. Tony then made breakfast for the two of them, and they continued to sit there in peaceful silence. They still ate together out of habit, but Tony was so proud of Michelle to know that she had beaten the disorder. She might still have her bad days, but she hadn't experienced overwhelming paranoia in a very long time now. Renee had already left to drive into town and get some supplies. She was usually an early riser, which gave the two of them quality time in the morning.

It did get lonely sometimes. Michelle's parents visited on occasion, but the risk was always there. Some of the relief of their reunion had worn off, but they lived with such gratitude for every little thing, knowing it could all be taken away in the blink of an eye. Still, there was something unspoken between them, not because they didn't want to work through it, but because they couldn't. There was no point in discussing it because there was nothing they could do about it.

"Let's shower, and then we'll head outside?" Michelle suggested.

He nodded. "Yeah, I'll clean up here first."

She cleared her plate, kissing his cheek before heading to the bathroom. More often than not, when he was alone, his thoughts would spiral. It was always worse on days like today: anniversaries, holidays, birthdays. He found himself overthinking their interactions, not that he felt like there wasn't healthy communication between them — they were more open than ever — but because he wondered whether she was more miserable than she let on. There was only so much they could do in a day. She was honest and didn't hold back when it came to her boundaries and her needs. But he knew they wouldn't have to live like this if it wasn't for what he had done. That fact was never going to change.

Tony remembered Jack telling him that he needed to go to prison so he could pay for what he had done. Jack hadn't said that purely out of a desire to follow the law; he had said that to emphasise that he needed to feel the punishment. While Tony hadn't gone to prison, he still believed that he had fulfilled that desire for Jack. His punishment was watching her smile but never seeing the smile reach her eyes. His punishment was never being able to give her complete solace because there was always a chance, a small chance, but a chance, that someone would find them. His punishment was knowing that after everything she had been through, in some ways, he was still holding her captive. He had told her many times that he and Renee could still help her leave if she wanted to, but she refused. She wanted to be with him, and that was final. 

He just wished that she didn't have to compromise her freedom.

By the time he finished, she was already dressed and had come back into the kitchen. He must have looked quite hopeless because she tilted her head at him and walked closer.

"Hey…" Michelle said. "What's wrong?"

"I wish I could give you more," he lamented, unsurprised to find his voice breaking. "I… I wish I could give you so much more."

She shook her head. "You've given me everything. You take care of me. You keep me safe-"

"Are you happy? Is… is there anything I can do? Anything, I swear, I'll find a way-"

"Stop saying that," she chided. "I am happy. I'm as happy as I'll ever be because I'm with you. I told you that that day, and I meant it."

He sniffled. "I'm sorry, I just… I want what's best for you."

"I know, I know…" Michelle moved her hands to the nape of his neck, looking up. She was getting teary, too. "But you know as well as I do that we're limited because of what's happened, and that's okay. Having this conversation again and again doesn't change anything." 

Tony sighed for a long time, murmuring that he knew that, but it unfortunately didn't make him feel any better. 

"Think of it this way," she started, making small circles on his back. "We're alive. Somehow, after everything, we're alive. And to me… that means we have to keep trying. We have to keep doing what we've been doing. Otherwise, that's a waste, and we might as well have died." 

Her strength still blew him away despite having every right to be furious and miserable. From the day he met her, she had always been stronger than him about things like this. He had always admired her for it. 

"I remember my mom always said to me when I was a kid that sometimes you have to fake the smile before you actually feel better." She shrugged. "I guess that's kind of like what we're doing here, right?"

He took a moment to absorb her words. She had said similar things like this before, but the reminder never hurt. He couldn't let himself bring her spirits down, but by the looks of it, she seemed much more intent on bringing his spirits up. It was hard to be receptive to it when he was so full of guilt. Maybe it was time to start letting go of that. Not to be dismissive of his actions — he deserved to have those weigh on him for the rest of his life — but for the sake of making the most of the time they had left together. It might not be the life they wanted, but it was still a life for them to have together. 

Tony met her eyes and realised it was such a miracle she was there. She was everything to him. He needed to hold onto that. 

"I just wish you didn't have to fake it in the first place. I… I don't know what to do."

"You don't have to do anything except be here," Michelle said simply. "I love you so much, and that hasn't changed. I… I've moved on from thinking about what could have been. It doesn't bother me, or at least not nearly as much as it used to." Her words sounded genuine, and he dearly hoped that they were. "I started feeling better when I stopped focusing on the things I don't have and started focusing on the things I do have. I get to wake up next to my husband every day and live with one of the best friends I've ever had. I don't need to work to make ends meet, and I can spend my days doing whatever I'd like. For the most part, I don't have to worry about us being in danger. And, on occasion, I get to see other people we care about. Even if it's a little mundane sometimes… what more could I ask for?"

He searched her eyes for a tell contradicting all that but found none. She was right. If she was able to find contentment, then why couldn't he? He worried constantly for her. All he ever thought about was her happiness. If she was saying that she was happy, why couldn't he let himself believe it? 

"You're right." He let out a breath. "You're right."

"You deserve to be happy, too, despite everything. Don't forget that," she said, and he didn't realise how much he needed to hear it. "So please… stop worrying. I'm giving you permission to enjoy your life. This might not be the life we wanted, but it's the only one we have."

He squeezed her back tighter. "What did I do to deserve you?"

She nuzzled his nose. "I've got a better idea: why don't you show me?"