You Said the World's Already Full Enough of Defeated People and You Would Not Be One

Michelle's cell phone buzzed against the nightstand. Her hand came to her chest as she woke up to the sound of the vibration. It was dark outside, far too early in the morning for anybody to be calling her besides CTU. Sitting up in bed, she grabbed the phone, squinting at the caller ID. It was familiar but not quite the digits she was expecting.

“Dessler.”

“This is the California State Prison.” The clerk’s voice was stern. “There’s been an incident involving your husband, Tony Almeida. Please get here as soon as you can.”

Michelle felt her stomach lurch. “What’s happened?”

“Just get here as soon as possible, Ms Dessler.”

The dial tone sounded and her heart started to race. Whatever it was, it wasn’t good. She wouldn’t dare put it into words, but she knew that for the call to have come through at this hour, it could only be something awful. Her hands were shaking, and she could barely catch her breath. Michelle stood slowly, but her knees wobbled and she nearly lost her balance. Planting her hands firmly on either side of the nightstand, one of them wedging her phone against the table, she tried to calm herself down, tried to inhale and exhale steadily. But her mind was imploring her to go, to run as fast as she could. Maybe she didn’t know what it was exactly, but either way, she knew something was wrong. When she lifted herself again, her gait was slow as she tried to walk over to her wardrobe. One of her palms came flush with the wall, the other hand still clutching her cell phone tightly.

She couldn’t drive like this. She didn’t even think she’d be able to get dressed without collapsing. But who could she call at this hour? Tony’s family was in Chicago, at CTU and Tony's insistence that they stay there and not visit yet. There’d been trouble between him and other prisoners already, and he didn’t want to put them in danger by letting them be identified. He’d said the same thing to Michelle, but she figured that being a CTU agent probably already had her on a few of their hit lists anyway. He was her husband, and he was in there because of her. Michelle needed to see him, and that was exactly what she’d planned on doing for the first time tomorrow. Or, she supposed when she looked at the time, today. Her brother didn’t live too far from her, but he wasn’t in a position to support her. She knew he’d probably only worry her more.

Michelle remembered that Jack had just come back from rehab. He was probably exhausted. She didn’t want to bother him, but she also knew that whatever awaited at the prison was something she couldn’t face alone. Jack was quick to pick up the phone, probably out of habit from years of working at CTU.

“Michelle?”

“S-something happened. At the prison.” Her breath got caught in her throat.

“Hey…hey…slow down, what’s going on?” His voice was slightly confused but gentle.

Her laboured puffs were crackling through the receiver. “I-I don’t know what but it…it can’t be good.” 

“Do you want me to come with you?”

“Please."

“I’ll come to pick you up, okay?” Michelle heard sheets ruffling as though he were frantically trying to get out of bed. “Michelle, I’ll be there soon.”

“Thank you…” Michelle breathed.

When he arrived, she was standing in the middle of her bedroom, staring at nothing, dressed in plain clothes, hair loosely tied back. Knowing that it probably hadn’t crossed her mind, he helped her to lock up the house and keep the dog in, who’d woken up concerned and confused. As they went out to his car, she walked slowly, as though paralysed with panic. His eyes kept flitting over to her while he drove, noticing that she couldn’t sit still, couldn’t will her body to stop trembling. He wanted to ask for more information but figured that they hadn’t told her much, since she was barely able to speak right now.

“It’s going to be okay, Michelle…”

It was a lie and he knew it, but sometimes the illusion of reassurance was enough. Everything was pent-up right now, all of the anxiety and worry and racing thoughts were peaking. They would go inside, and whatever awaited them would be there. Whatever it was, they would soon find out. But right now they just had to walk those fateful steps.

Michelle shook her head.

“N-no. I can tell, Jack.” Her voice was grave. “Something bad has happened.”

Looking up at the prison exterior as the engine died down, her breath hitched. She’d been that distracted the whole car ride, she hadn’t noticed that they’d already made their way down. There were ambulances and extra police cars parked outside. Jack’s stomach sank, with whatever tiny hope he’d had that it was nothing serious completely dissipating. He grabbed her shaking hand on the console between them, meeting her eyes, silently communicating that regardless of whatever was inside, she wasn’t going to be alone. Michelle took a few more deep breaths and they entered the prison. Before they could even make it to the front desk, someone was quick to already usher her and Jack aside.

“What’s going on with Tony Almeida?” Jack asked, trying to mask the fear in his voice.

“Over the past few weeks, we’ve noticed some tension between Almeida and a few of the other prisoners. They seemed to be harassing him rather frequently, so we had him placed in solitary confinement for his protection.” 

Jack furrowed his brow as they continued to walk down the hall. “So what’s the issue?”

“There was an ambush in his cell. One of the guards was killed, another two seriously injured, and…” The warden sighed. “Almeida was also a casualty. He was completely outnumbered when they attacked him.”

Had she heard the warden right? Casualty? Everything seemed to slip away from her as they shoved through hoards of cops and other guards and prisoners being questioned. Her brain tried to comprehend it all. It made no sense. They'd put him in solitary but somehow the exact thing they were trying to prevent happened anyway? Who were these people? What did they want with him? Why did they kill him?

“How the hell did this happen?” Jack yelled. “Solitary confinement is supposed to be more secure than any other part of the prison, and you’re telling me that a handful of prisoners were able to breach that?”

“That’s what we have to investigate now.”

They found themselves at the heart of the action. Police tape was being drawn. Evidence was being bagged. Pools of blood reflected under the harsh fluorescent lighting. Two figures lay motionless on the ground, both covered by white sheets.

The warden turned to face Michelle, face softening a little. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She moved forward, and the sight before her caused her to let out a gasp.

“T-Tony…” Michelle continued to walk to where the bodies were, as though wanting to see for herself, wanting the sight of his body to snap her out of the dream she hoped she was having. 

One of the cops stopped her. “I’m sorry, this is an active crime scene.” 

He held her back as she tried to shove past. Michelle started protesting, saying that she had to see, that it was her God-damned husband lying there, that she had the right to see.

The warden grabbed Jack’s hand as he went to help her.

“Almeida wasn’t exactly in the best shape. If you care about her, I wouldn’t want her seeing him like that.”

If the overwhelming amount of blood on the floor was any indication of the severity of the situation, Jack couldn’t deny that what lay beneath the sheet was not what Michelle deserved to remember him by. Quickly moving over to where she was, he grabbed her by the shoulder. She twisted in his grip, asking him to let go. Michelle managed to lift the corner of the sheet, shuddering at how disfigured his face had become, at the red, inflamed, raw skin she saw there. One of the officers pulled her away and she screamed. Again, she fought their hold and tried to break free, now feeling the need to see what had become of him consume her.

Taking her by surprise, Jack stepped in, wrapping his arms around her from behind, pinning her biceps by her sides.

“He doesn’t want you to see him like this.” He said in her ear, feeling so pained at the sight, knowing the exact hurricane of emotions that was consuming her right now.

He let her fight his grip a little longer, let her concede on her own, indicated by the way her body collapsed in his arms, so wrought with despair. Turning around, her eyes were brimming with tears she’d likely been holding since before they left the house. Her bottom lip was wobbling. He sniffled and his vision was starting to blur. Taking her over into an empty hallway, he embraced her tightly, and she sobbed relentlessly in his arms. Her fingernails were digging into his shoulders as they sunk to the cold linoleum floor, and all he could do was apologise. So much tragedy had befallen her in such a short time and Jack knew that she had simply been pushing it down without facing it properly. He had promised her he would do everything he could to get Tony pardoned or at least shorten his sentence once he came out of rehab. It had only been a day since he'd come home and he had already failed to keep that promise. Jack chastised himself now, wondering if he should have prioritised that over rehab. Michelle, along with everybody else at CTU had pushed him to go and told him that he needed to. 

But because of that, yet another person close to him was dead now, with others suffering horrifically.

Jack held her until the sun started to rise through the sole, tiny window of the corridor. He drove her home, insisting the lead detective call him with any progress they made. He was supposed to go discuss his reinstatement with CTU today but instead realised he would have to spend it calling Tony’s family, as well as Michelle’s. 

She went straight to bed when they got back to her house, curling herself into a ball and staring blankly out the window.

Shutting the door behind him, he moved to sit on the living room couch, noticing their wedding photo on the table beside him. 

Only now did Jack bury his face in his hands and let his own tears fall.

Jack had stayed at her house for almost a week now, out of both guilt and concern, knowing that any insistence she was ‘fine’ was a bald-faced lie.

She’d gone back to work far too soon for anybody’s liking, a mere two days after his death. But nobody had dared to question her, not when they could see she was at her wit’s end, mustering every last ounce of energy and emotion into work. Michelle had gone in head first, throwing herself back into the stresses of CTU as though nothing had happened. But Jack knew she was simply distracting herself, simply forcing her mind to do something else instead of thinking about him. People whispered, wondering what was possibly going through her mind, wondering how the hell she could just go back to work as though nothing had happened. Why else would she stay at CTU when all that waited at home were haunting reminders of what once was?

Jack woke in the middle of the night to the sound of quiet grumbles and clicks on a keyboard. He walked over from the fold-out sofa to her home office, where a blue glow illuminated the room. She sat in the desk chair with her knees to her chest, pen and paper on one side, laptop on the other. Despite the cool hue of the lighting, he could see she looked a little pale. She wasn't sleeping well, between her insistence on working at all possible hours, as well as vicious nightmares that sometimes shocked her body to the point of being physically sick.  

“Michelle? What are you doing?”

She typed something frantically on the computer. Jack moved closer to see what it was. It appeared to be security footage of a small room, its sole occupant asleep. Michelle pressed rewind, playing it frame by frame and fervidly jotting down notes. She did this a few times, almost obsessively. Each time, figures clad in identical orange jumpsuits ran in, guards behind them trying to hold them back but finding their efforts utterly futile as they dragged the sleeping person out of bed and began to beat them. The figures were intentionally avoiding having their faces seen by the camera. Jack glanced down at the paper beside her, seeing details written about identifying tattoos, the order of entry, and hypotheses about the identity of the men. She zoomed in on certain sections, peering intently and writing down more information before zooming back out.

“I-I have to find the truth.” She said, almost monotonously. “I-I need to know who did this to him.”

He let out a breath, knowing that if he were in her position, he would surely be doing the same. At least he could live with the fact that he knew who killed Teri. There was no investigation other than figuring out what other atrocities Nina had committed while supposedly working for the government. So he understood where she was coming from, but also knew it was simply a sign that she was still numb from shock, that the grief still hadn't hit her. It wasn’t right. She shouldn’t have to see the moment of his death replay over and over again. She shouldn’t have to try and solve some mystery.

“How did you get this?” Security footage from a crime scene wasn’t generally available. Even on government databases, access was only granted to those part of the investigation.

“Chloe…” She muttered.

“Michelle, you need to sleep. You got home late, and I know you’ll be up early to go to work. Please. Let the police do their job.”

She seemed to react strongly to that. “‘Job’? It was their job to protect him. He wasn’t supposed to be in prison in the first place. If he had just gotten a suspension, this wouldn’t have happened. If…if I had just been more careful, this wouldn’t have happened, he wouldn’t be dead, he would be alive and here with me and-”

He placed a hand over hers, stilling the rapid clicking of the keys. His eyes met hers, so bloodshot and exhausted, circles beneath them dark and heavy. Michelle's face screwed up and Jack simply turned the chair, crouching down in front of her. He let her collapse into his arms, and she started to weep quietly.

“This is not your fault.” He murmured. “If anything, it’s mine. I should have tried harder to convince Palmer to pardon him then and there.”

He felt her shake his head against him. “He did all of that because of me, Jack. It’s my responsibility, it’s my-” Her body sunk further into his as she cried harder, no longer able to maintain whatever composure she had left. 

“But it is not your responsibility to figure this out.”

Michelle sniffled.

“Promise me you won’t keep doing this.” Jack sighed. “I understand, I do. Maybe it’s not exactly the same thing, I know it must be so hard not even knowing who they are, but the police will tell you. I spent a very long time wondering if I could have picked up that Nina was betraying me, blaming myself for everything. It doesn’t help, it just makes you feel worse.”

She shrugged. “Maybe you’re right.”

“You know he wouldn’t want this for you.”

Suddenly, her demeanour changed. She pulled back, a scowl on her face. “Don’t tell me that. You don’t know what he wants because he’s not here, Jack.” 

Michelle stood, slamming the laptop shut and leaving the study. He followed her. 

“I’m sorry...” Exhausted, he ran a hand over his face. “I’m sorry, Michelle.”

“Just go. Please. I-I know you want to be there for me, and I appreciate that so much, but seeing you reminds me of that day and I can’t…I can’t keep thinking about it.” She let out a breath. “The only way I’m going to have closure is when I find out who did this to him.”

“You can’t put a condition on your recovery, Michelle.”

“Just go, Jack!” She yelled suddenly, her voice breaking. “Please, just…just leave me alone.”

“Okay…okay.” He said softly, not wanting to disrespect her wishes.

Jack could still hear her sobbing, even as he left and shut the front door, willing himself to not go back inside, to not support her as a friend the way he wished he would have let Tony do for him when Teri died.

If she wanted him to go, he would go.

Although Jack had given her some space, they still couldn’t avoid seeing each other at work. She seemed almost robotic by this point, mechanically going about her job as though nothing had happened. She had been somewhat stoic at Tony’s funeral, keeping it together but still clearly in mourning. But now, her demeanour was so frigid and detached from everyone and everything around her. Jack knew the turmoil lying beneath that demeanour well and it scared him. It scared him to think about how long she’d try to push to keep up the facade, how long she’d last before she finally broke down, and what would happen when she did. He was sure everybody else in her life was thinking the same thing. He was sure someone would point it out eventually and raise a concern about her well-being. Michelle had already made it clear that she didn’t need Jack to protect her, so he just prayed that somebody else would be brave enough to broach the topic and that she’d listen to them.

Because although nobody would dare utter the words around her, it was clear that deep down, Michelle had a death wish. 

She would volunteer to go out into the field whenever an opportunity arose, her behaviour riskier, flightier, with an edge Jack had never seen before. There had been instances when she’d been a little too gun-ho and nearly gotten herself killed. Psychiatric assessments had been done, and the phrase ‘purposely engaging in risk-taking behaviour’ appeared again and again. But what could they say if she was delivering results? Sacrifice in the line of duty was just part of the job description. 

Jack stood across from her in Erin Driscoll’s office, unsure why she’d called the two of them up there. Driscoll had made it perfectly clear that she wasn’t a fan of Jack’s behaviour, that the only reason he was still employed was that the transition to her ‘ideal’ CTU was taking longer than expected. It made sense, considering how many staff members too horribly affected by the Cordilla virus attacks had also filed their letters of resignation or internal transfer. CTU Los Angeles was shrinking, but Driscoll had every intention of rebuilding it from the ground.

“What’s going on?” Jack asked as Driscoll shut the door behind him.

“We have a lead on Eric Gaeta.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Gaeta? CTU hasn’t had a lead on him in years.”

Eric Gaeta was a former FBI agent who’d leaked classified information to several terrorist groups. Before anybody had figured it out, he’d escaped, masterfully preventing anybody from tracking his location. Nobody had ever quite pinned down a motivation, but rumour had it it was career-based. He’d been an excellent operative but never seemed to be rewarded sufficiently for his efforts. Gaeta’s crimes had sparked fear in every other government agency and made them all the more aware that it wasn’t just the enemies on the outside they had to worry about. Jack remembered it well. The news that a mole had infiltrated the FBI had come up not long before Nina had been found doing the same thing. Making sure that people like Gaeta were caught was a deeply personal cause for Jack.

“Our sources seem to indicate he’s planning something big. Possibly working with one of those white nationalist militia groups we’ve had our eye on.”

Jack nodded.

“So what’s CTU doing about it?”

Driscoll cleared her throat. “We’re going to send someone undercover to try and infiltrate him and whoever else he’s working with.”

He shrugged. “Okay, so when do I leave?”

She tutted. “Since you were one of the main members of the task force at the time, you’ll be overseeing it. Michelle will be the one going undercover.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Gaeta’s not stupid. He likely has intel from government databases. No matter how good or experienced our agents are, there’s a chance he’d shoot them down before they can even say a word.”

“But…” Michelle started. “It doesn’t matter if he knows that I work for the government because he’ll be willing to believe that I’m on his side.”

“I’m not following.” Jack said.

“We’re going to use Tony’s death as part of her cover story. Gaeta isn’t going to question Michelle’s history because he’s going to think that she wants revenge on the government because of what happened to him.”

He turned to face Michelle who simply nodded, agreeing.

“This…this is insane, Michelle you can’t-”

“It’s the only way, Jack.” She said, firmly. “Nobody else can pull this off.”

If he thought that working at CTU on a regular day was bad enough for her health, he sure as hell didn’t think that undercover work would be good for her either. He knew all too well how exhausting it was to maintain a cover, and he’d been doing it for years. From memory, Michelle had only been undercover a handful of times. Her grief and health aside, this wasn’t going to be an easy operation. Gaeta wasn’t the most trusting person, it could take months before he warmed up to let her in on what was happening. And he also knew Michelle would do whatever it took to make sure he trusted her, and that terrified him more than anything. 

“We don’t know exactly what Gaeta intends on doing so we need to act quickly. For now, Jack, your focus is getting Michelle’s cover story ready.” Driscoll typed something quickly on the laptop in front of her, before turning the screen to face him. “Most of our recent chatter has come from San Diego, it’d be best to catch him before he moves again.”

“I’m doing this whether you like it or not Jack.” Michelle said shortly. “I’ll be fine. I can handle myself.”

Part of him wanted to protest again, wanted to insist this was a disaster waiting to happen, that no matter how much Michelle said so, she couldn’t do this, she shouldn’t do this. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the idea was good. Twisting the truth to make her a convincing candidate for someone that Gaeta would want to recruit. That wouldn’t stop him from trying to look out for her though. Tony would never forgive him if he let her get pushed into the deep end like this.

“Fine.” Jack said. “But I’ll be the primary liaison. We don’t know how long this will take. If you can’t get evidence to convict him within a reasonable amount of time, I’m pulling the plug.”

“It won’t get to that point.” 

He met her eyes, already feeling in his gut like this was a bad idea. “Let’s hope so.”

He was getting ready to leave when Driscoll came over to his desk.

“Michelle knows where you’re meeting her?”

“Yeah. It’s not too far from the place we met last time.”

It had been about four months now since Michelle had gone undercover. He had only been able to make contact with her twice in that time, both for very brief moments in busy cafes. Michelle had concealed herself with sunglasses and a scarf, so he hadn't been able to tell how she was doing. She had already transmitted a few things she’d found, but today she had more to discuss, so they had agreed to meet somewhere a little more private. According to Michelle, it was easier now that Gaeta seemed to trust her more. This relieved Jack because it meant he could check in on her properly. Without the rush of worrying about whether someone would spot her with him, he could afford to ask a few questions unrelated to the case.

Driscoll looked around, checking that nobody was within earshot of them.

“Jack, I know you…care about her. But don’t let that get in the way of getting the information CTU needs.”

She had made it clear time and time again that he was out of CTU Los Angeles as soon as this operation was over. Most of the other staff had been replaced by this point. The only person Driscoll had willingly kept was Chloe O’Brian, which was a wise decision because it was no secret how good she was at her job. So it was reasonable to assume that his mere presence was getting on her nerves.

“I know that.”

“Even if you think she’s not cut out for fieldwork given Tony’s death, she’s finishing this operation off, then it won’t be a problem anymore.”

He met her eyes, confused.

“If she makes it back, I’ve already put in a request to transfer her to Division.”

“If?”

She shrugged indifferently. “You know how it is. A lot can still go wrong in these last few weeks.”

Jack was already irritated, wondering what kind of game she was playing. “Why Division?”

“It is a shame that I’ll be losing her, but after this mission, she'll be a loose cannon, and I can’t afford to deal with that. It’s not my problem.”

He folded his arms. “So you’re treating her as expendable? You don’t give a rat’s ass what happens to her, because regardless of whether she makes it back or not, she won’t be your responsibility.”

Driscoll scoffed. “You’re making me sound like a cold-hearted bitch, Jack. Besides, isn’t this what you want for her, anyway? A nice, stable job where she can’t get herself killed?”

Biting the inside of his cheek, he realised she wasn’t wrong. He had worried himself sick thinking about Michelle these past few months, wondering when he’d get the news that her body was found so he could blame himself once again for the death of somebody close to him. If Driscoll was planning on sending her somewhere that could prevent that, then Jack couldn’t argue with her. Even though he believed she’d do great work as a field agent, she was also perfectly capable of and able to fulfil her career aspirations by working somewhere else too. A desk job wouldn't get her killed. That was all that mattered to him.

“You better get going.” She said with a fake smile.

He resisted the urge to flip her off before getting in his car to head towards their meeting spot. Michelle was already there when he pulled into the empty parking lot of the building. Jack almost didn’t recognise her. Last time she’d appeared a little under the weather but really no more exhausted than usual. Now, he could almost sense the change. As he walked closer to her, his sense became well-founded. She looked like she’d lost weight, there was a sallowness to her skin, and her eyes were flitting about nervously, unable to focus on anything. 

“About time you got here.” She said quickly, passing him a thumb drive with a trembling hand. “I managed to get these off his computer. If I’m right, the weapons shipment is coming in a couple of weeks. I also know the warehouse he’s using.”

As he listened to her explain further and took the device, he stopped to hold her hand, feeling it tremble in his grip. 

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She said, wiping under her nose.

He took a good look at her, wondering why her composure — or lack thereof — seemed so familiar to him. It wasn’t just that she looked tired to the point of burnout, although he knew that was surely true. She looked…sick, almost. Jittery, unstable, not even like herself. Meeting her eyes, he could see her pupils were dilated. And suddenly, everything seemed to click into place, creating a pang in his chest.

“Are…are you high?”

She laughed weakly. “What do you care? It worked for you, didn’t it?”

Sighing, he shook his head.

“Yeah, Jack, it’s not pretty. I know you're disappointed and think I'm pathetic. But I had to make the ‘grieving widow’ front look convincing. And it worked. Because Gaeta trusts me. He’s telling me everything, and soon it’s all going to be worth it." Michelle said in a jumbled rush. "I don’t want to feel anything anymore, Jack. You of all people should understand that." She pointed at him. "Every time I shut my eyes I see those people at the hotel, I see Gael dying in agony, I see him beaten to death and covered with a sheet. So forgive me for trying to find a way to live my life.”

He thought back to what Driscoll had told him before. And he realised that despite her underhanded tactics and selfish motivations, he was glad she was pulling Michelle out of the field. Because if this was only the beginning of her finding new ways of dealing with her pain, then Jack shuddered to think of the trainwreck that would eventuate.

“I don’t think that you’re pathetic. I think that you’re in pain and that you need help.”

That seemed to trigger something in her. She almost looked taken aback, not expecting to hear someone disagree with how she felt about herself.

“Look, I don’t have a lot of dignity left. I don’t have a lot of anything left. But please, give me the dignity of doing my job.” 

The words came out as a sad, mumbled plea, and he wanted nothing more than to drive her to rehab, drive her to somewhere that could take care of her, that could stop her from pushing down how she truly felt. Some part of him wished she would cry, wished things were like how they had been in the few days after Tony had died before that stony, distant demeanour had taken over. He just wanted to be there for her. Not because he was trying to fill some void that Tony had left, as Driscoll and some others seemed to believe, but because he understood the pain she felt and wanted to be there for her. Because she didn’t deserve to go through it, and she sure as hell didn’t deserve to go through it alone.

Michelle went to leave and he took her hand one more time.

“I’m not going to pull the plug. I know you can see this through.”

The corners of her mouth upturned a little in appreciation. 

“Just…just be careful.”

“I will.”

To Jack’s relief, the raid on Gaeta’s warehouse went smoothly, and after six long months, Michelle was finally able to come home. Understandably, the first thing that happened when she returned to CTU was her debrief with Driscoll. Given all the information she had learned, it’d taken a few hours. But when she left her office, Jack could see an angry twitch in her jaw. Before he even got the chance to ask her how she was, she stormed out of CTU. He followed, watching her frantically look around the parking lot before remembering that her car wasn’t there. Her car, along with her and Tony’s dog were both at her brother’s house.

“Michelle.” He called.

She turned around, looking exhausted and disheartened beyond words. The sun was long gone at this hour, but he could still see the darkness of the circles beneath her eyes.

“She fired me. After everything I just did, she fired me.”

He furrowed his brow. That wasn’t what Driscoll had told him.

“She can’t just do that without any valid reason.”

Michelle lifted her shoulders. “She can if she’s getting me another job. But it’s compared to what I was doing here, it’s practically a demotion. I-I don’t understand. I took Gaeta down. I got all the evidence CTU needs. Why wouldn’t she want me to stay?”

Jack could hear the disappointment in her voice. He felt sorry for her. She’d exceeded every expectation he’d had. In any other circumstance, being put on more field missions would have been good for her and CTU. But the fact that she was safe and sound right now was reason enough to transfer her somewhere to preserve that.

“It’s not fair, but you know she’s had it out for us since she came here. I’m sure she’ll give me the same treatment soon anyway.”

“I know, it’s just…” She sighed. “I really thought I did something good here.”

“You did. You absolutely did.” He reassured her. “But even if it’s not field work, Division will still be good for you. It’s still a step up. It’s better than nothing.”

She paused before looking him in the eyes. “Who told you I was going to Division?”

He cursed to himself, realising that his conversation with Driscoll had been so prominent in his mind for months that he’d forgotten nobody else actually knew. Before he went to speak, she cut him off.

“Oh my God…you knew, didn’t you? You knew she was going to fire me?”

“It’s what’s best-”

“Don’t give me that crap.” She said, deeply offended. “How dare you? How could you keep that from me? You claim to care about me yet you didn’t have the decency to tell me that I was going to lose my job.”

“I get that you’re upset-”

She shook her head. “No, Jack, you don’t. This job is all I have. And just as I find something that gives me purpose again, you go behind my back and let her do that when you know that that mission was something nobody else could do as well as me.”

Jack felt a pang of guilt now, wondering whether he’d been that caught up in his worry for Michelle that he’d stopped himself from considering that work wasn’t just a distraction but something that brought her fulfilment. He would never want to take something like that away from her. He understood. He’d taken the same approach after all. But he’d made his choice and now he had to face the consequences.

He sighed. “Let me at least take you to your brother’s.”

“Fine.” She mumbled.

They got into his car, not saying a word to each other as he drove down to Danny’s house. She called him, letting him know that she was on the way. From what Jack could hear on the other side of the phone, he sounded so relieved to hear her voice. He hoped maybe she’d listen to him. Glancing over to where she was, there was a calmness, almost a relief. One that he hadn’t seen from her the last time they’d met. But even though she didn’t seem like she was high right now, Jack just prayed someone would get Michelle the help she needed. When they eventually pulled up to the curb, Jack placed a hand on hers before she could get out of the car.

“Look…I’m…I’m sorry.” He said earnestly. “But I’m just worried for you. I’m not trying to control you, I’m not trying to stop you from finding something that helps you to move on, it’s just…I’ve lost so many people and I’d hate to lose you too.”

Her expression softened. “I-I know that. I know the only reason you’re doing this is that you care. But you crossed a line. And enough is enough, I need you to give me some space.”

“If I’d known Driscoll was going to tell you as soon as you got back, I would have warned you. I would have. It’s not fair that she sprung that on you.”

Michelle gave him a dirty look. “Too little, too late, Jack. You knew what you were doing. You could have fought Driscoll, but you didn’t. You want to bubble-wrap me and stop me from doing anything dangerous because you think that's your way of making it up to Tony. And when Driscoll dangled exactly what you wanted in front of you, you took the chance to blame it on her."

He opened his mouth to protest, not that he really had any rebuttal, but she spoke before he could.

“Just do us both a favour, Jack. Stay out of my life.”

After Driscoll fired her, Michelle distanced herself from Los Angeles as much as possible, opting for a job at one of the Division offices interstate. Jack, too, made changes. He found himself in DC, working a much more stable and predictable job for the Secretary of Defence. It was nice being able to have a routine, to not constantly have the thought of death or injury at the back of his mind. Kim preferred it too, and for the first time in his life, Jack felt as though things were okay.

Chloe spoke to him frequently, updating him on the dynamics of CTU, noting how drastically it had changed and how often people came and went. Nobody seemed to stay there for too long. With fewer people there, terrorist threats usually ended up being handed to other agencies, so the amount of incoming job applications decreased. Nobody wanted to sign a contract to work somewhere that wouldn’t give them anything to do, especially if the pay was lower. There were rumours of the Los Angeles branch being shut down completely. Staff from other agencies often visited to discuss renovations, potential changes and possibilities for usage. There was clearly a bureaucratic fight for who would get the office space. 

She also kept Jack up to date on the things happening in Kim and Chase’s lives, not being able to see them as often as he wished he could. But they were well. Chloe was also one of the few people still in touch with Michelle. Jack didn't communicate with her now, as per her request, but he still wondered how she was doing. From a glance, she seemed to be functioning. Judging by her file, Michelle had undergone more intensive training and become more qualified to work to the top of the corporate ladder. But this told him nothing of her well-being.

However, Jack now had the opportunity to face her and find out the truth. After over a year of debating and speculating, a conference in Los Angeles was announced to finalise whether the CTU unit remained open. Other agencies had been invited to give their opinion and survey the space to see if they could find a more suitable purpose. Secretary Heller had insisted on going, making sure Jack was with him to give a more informed opinion. Over in Seattle, Bill Buchanan had insisted on the same thing for Michelle. 

Michelle was unreadable when their eyes met. He watched her go over to Chloe and smile a little, seeing some of the light return to her eyes. It seemed that she really had been there for her. Heller said something to Jack about meeting room space, forcing him to snap back to reality. They continued to walk around the familiar halls, entering familiar rooms and meeting familiar faces. His ears perked up at the sound of some kind of commotion in one of the upstairs offices. Bill was in one room, and Michelle was in the other. The FBI agent in there with her suddenly left, pale as a ghost. Jack excused himself and made his way up the stairs, finding her alone.

As Jack stepped into the room, he realised exactly where he was. 

Tony’s old office. 

Jack had occupied that office when he had taken charge of CTU, and then Driscoll had taken over upon her arrival. Michelle had always seemed a little strange when she had gone up there, but after such a long time away, it was likely dredging up a lot of memories for her.

“Everything okay?” He asked warily.

“Fine.” She replied shortly.

Looking closer at her, he saw the effects of her internalisation, of how much she was pushing herself to work, to drive herself to do everything except feel and let out the grief that clearly still coursed through her body each and every day. She was thinner, dark circles under her eyes still visible beneath her makeup. Her hair was straight, her gaze stern. The main thing Jack noticed was the change in her physical attitude. She still held herself with a fiercer, colder gait, but the jitteriness was gone from her body. She seemed a little more stable compared with the last time. Still, though, the fatigue in her expression seemed to indicate there was something more to it. There was no reason to believe she wasn't still using outside of work.

“I think the agent who just walked out of here would say otherwise.” 

“Just leave it, Jack.” 

He didn’t want to provoke her. He just wanted to understand. He just wanted her to be honest.

“What’s going on?” Jack softened his voice.

“Nothing, Jack. Nothing.” She stormed out, walking back down the stairs to where Bill was, and Jack knew she didn’t want to be followed.

When he eventually left himself, he found Chloe standing near the bottom of the stairwell, biting her lip. She tilted her head, and he let her pull him aside.

“Don’t be too hard on her, Jack. One of the people who killed Tony got parole today.”

“Parole?” He looked at her, bewildered. “I thought most of them were on death row!”

Chloe shrugged. “One of the guys claimed he had tried to stop the fight from going too far. Some of the others are now trying to say the same thing or that Tony had threatened them during the earlier incidents, so they were afraid of him. We’ve all seen the footage. It’s bullshit. Some kind of deal went down. I don’t know what exactly, but I’m going to try and find out for her.”

“You’re still helping her access the investigation files?” He folded his arms.

“How can I say no to her, Jack? I know it’s probably not the best thing for Michelle, but I’m not going to act like I know better or that I know what’s good for her. She lost her husband to a brutal murder and the people who did it aren’t getting punished. And just because you know what it’s like to be a widow, it doesn’t mean you should act like you know what’s best for her either.”

Jack sighed. “Look, before I leave today, could you text me the room number and the hotel she’s staying at? I just want to apologise to her.”

She nodded. “Sure.”

They were all permitted to leave for the day several hours later. He decided to give Michelle some time before driving to the address Chloe had sent him in the evening. The least he could do was take her out somewhere to catch up, to help her acknowledge all the memories that being in Los Angeles was dredging up. Jack had no idea when she was going back to Seattle. Now more than ever, he wanted to try to make amends. He remembered the punch to the gut he had felt when Nina was pardoned. He didn't want Michelle to have to face those same emotions alone.

When Jack made it to the floor she was staying on, he knocked on the hotel room door, calling out her name.

There was no response. 

He did it again, louder.

Again, nothing.

The ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign wasn’t on the door. Jack wondered if Michelle was just in the bathroom, but he couldn’t hear water running. In fact, he couldn’t hear anything, even when he pressed his ear to the door. The lights, albeit dim, were still visible under the bottom of the door. It was only seven, so it was unlikely she was asleep.

“Michelle, I’m coming in.” Jack said firmly, before shouldering the door open.

Only one of the bedside lamps was on. She was lying motionless on the bed, not beneath the covers, but above them, as though she had collapsed. As Jack moved closer, he found a collection of small, empty bottles of spirits on the table, presumably from the minibar. A few prescription bottles lay on their side, also empty. One of the labels showed it was for Vicodin. The date indicated a recent prescription but it wasn’t under Michelle’s name. He knew she’d hidden her drug problem from being undercover well enough to not get fired from CTU. But clearly, she’d switched to a slightly new vice, one that she could keep more private. How she’d gotten the drugs didn’t matter. The point was she had likely taken them.

Michelle was still in the skirt and shirt she’d left CTU in. Her blazer was haphazardly discarded on a chair and her shoes were on the floor. She hadn’t stirred at all despite his entrance, and Jack's stomach churned. He touched her hand lightly. It was clammy and limp. Frantically, he turned her body over so she was on her back. The colour had drained from her skin, lips just as blue as her fingertips. She was cold to the touch. Jack scrambled to find a weak, arrhythmic pulse. He started to panic and unbuttoned her collar to improve her circulation. Jack dashed into the bathroom and grabbed a small towel, soaking it in water. Leaving a small trail of droplets on the carpet, he quickly made his way back over and pressed it to her forehead.

“Michelle. Michelle! Wake up, come on…”

He squeezed her shoulders to shake her a little. Feeling his heart race, he grabbed the phone to call 911 with one hand and used the other to keep applying the damp cloth to her face. As soon as he hung up, he used both of his hands to check her airways, check for any sign of breathing, check for any sign that she was alive. Kneeling onto the bed, he used his body weight to press on her chest with his palms. His compressions made her move like a ragdoll. A sign that his efforts were futile. A tear fell from his face onto his hands, and the reality of the situation started to sink in. He was losing her.

When the paramedics arrived, they quickly pushed him out of the way. One of them insisted on dragging Jack out of the hotel room as they worked on her. The objects beside Michelle made it abundantly clear what had happened. She asked him why she might try to do this.

Oh, he knew alright.

Before he could even begin trying to summarise the turmoil of the last two and a half years, the voices inside the room suddenly fell quiet. He felt a pang in his chest, realising there was no coughing or spluttering, no indication of revival. A woman came out, looking at Jack solemnly as she blocked the doorway. For some reason, Jack felt like he’d seen her somewhere before.

“I’m sorry sir, she’s gone.”

Six Years Later

He peered around in concern as the red-haired FBI agent led him down the hallway. Jack felt strange being back in such a place, hearing the beeps and noises of a room full of computers as well as the familiar technical terms thrown left and right. The FBI office was oozing with stress, so starkly different to the lifestyle he’d had for the past several years. After Michelle’s death, Jack distanced himself from practically everybody, instead opting to live a more relaxed lifestyle out in the country. It was mundane, but he had a dog and a job that kept food on the table, so why complain? Kim came down to visit, but she knew something had changed in him and eventually found that she saw him less and less frequently. Chloe had tried to get in touch a few times, but at some point, she too ceased her contact with him. Most likely because, as suspected, the CTU Los Angeles office was disbanded not long after that horrible day. Various agencies had occupied it for brief periods before the building was eventually demolished and abandoned.

Maybe it was lonely and miserable, but Jack reminded himself that isolating himself from his loved ones would keep them safe. In his eyes, it was the only way he could prevent them from danger. It was a stable life, one that kept him sane, one that kept him at ease.

That was until he received an unexpected letter and phone call from the FBI, no, not the Los Angeles office, but the head office in Washington DC. It confused Jack at first. After all, he wasn’t exactly in action anymore. What bewildered him more was continuing to receive urgent-sounding letters with every passing day. He checked them for signs of fraud but still hadn't believed it. Finally, two FBI agents showed up at his small ranch, peevishly asking Jack to come with them. So he obliged and now found himself sitting stiffly in a small office, hearing the agent shut the door behind them.

“You’re hopefully aware of the vigilante-style murders which have been going on for some time now.” She began.

Jack nodded. Even in his isolation, he knew about the plethora of brutal killings that had been going on in recent years. Initially, it had started with criminals on parole, particularly those who had committed atrocious crimes but, through some seedy connection, had earned the right to be free. This didn't make it out to the public at first but had at least stirred the attention of local law enforcement since they could never resolve any of the cases. It got particularly confusing when the incidents spread across state borders. The victims had no connection other than being released early despite being convicted of horrific acts, usually murder, terrorism, or anything that involved hurting people and otherwise being worthy of the death penalty. 

Then it extended to the lawyers responsible for pushing parole, random guards and government agents who were later found to have associations with shady dealings or crime organisations. In the last few months, it had ramped up even further. Prisoners were being broken out from high-security facilities, only to have their bodies found, often horrendously slaughtered, several days or even weeks later. It had the FBI and other government agencies scratching their heads, wondering who could be so vengeful. The killer seemed so brutal, yet at the same time, so skilled and intentional in their actions.

But what did any of that have to do with him?

“I haven’t exactly been active, Agent Walker. I’m not sure why I’m here.”

She looked back at him with a stern expression. “We’ve recently obtained a lead. A lead that indicates one of the people behind these killings is someone you know.”

Opening the laptop in front of her, she clicked away for a few seconds before turning the screen to show a freeze-frame from what he presumed was security footage. As the picture loaded, he furrowed his brow. It showed a scowling woman who struggled to shove a restrained prisoner with a bag over their head into the back of a van. It appeared that her balaclava had been pulled off her face, revealing short, curly hair. One side of her head was shaved. Dark makeup surrounded her almond-shaped, brown eyes. At the base of her neck, Jack could see the outlines of a tattoo.

His head swung from side to side slowly.

“This isn’t possible. Michelle Dessler’s dead.”

“Apparently not.”

He glanced up. “I was there when she died.”

“Reports stated that the EMTs pushed you out of the room. And that she was cremated days later. Or so you were lead to believe.”

Jack’s cheek twitched. “You’re trying to tell me that not only Michelle Dessler is alive, but that she’s some kind of mass murderer?”

“Her husband was killed one month into a prison sentence he didn’t deserve. And the people who killed him were barely punished, one of them even getting parole. Could you blame her for being mad at the system?”

He scoffed. “So you think this is about revenge for Tony? She’s not like that.”

The agent shrugged. “Maybe at the start. But you see how far it’s gone now. She doesn’t believe prison is enough of a punishment for anyone. She sees bad people getting away with living while her husband is still dead, so she wants them dead too. Prisoners aren’t even making it to their execution date without her killing them first.”

“You don’t know that they’re all connected. You can’t just-”

“Then you can ask her yourself.” She grabbed a piece of paper from her desk and passed it to him. “We have reason to believe she’s still here in DC. Dean Gardiner, a serial rapist in one of the local federal prisons, is set to be released on parole today. If our profiling is correct, Michelle will be there to make sure he doesn’t get too much fresh air when he walks out of those gates.”

He still wasn't convinced. The shock of it all was too much for him. No matter what she told him, he was incapable of refuting her claims, instead continuously finding himself drawn back to the image on the screen.

"Tony was killed only a few years after she single-handedly witnessed the government nearly start a world war over a falsified recording. Is it really so hard to believe she has no faith in the government? Maybe she stayed at CTU for the right reasons, so she could try to change things. But I know she would have seen dozens of immunity deals signed, dozens of people get away with the things they’ve done." Agent Walker folded her arms. "I know it's not easy for you to hear. I’m sure as her friend you want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but the fact is, Mr Bauer, that Michelle is alive, she's angry, and she’s taken matters into her own hands.”

Jack sighed. “So what’s the plan?”

She changed the computer screen to display traffic cam footage near a small house. “We let the guy go home, stake out his place, and hope she shows up.”

“Fine.”

They had watched Gardiner's house for several hours by now. Other agents were parked further back, ready to apprehend any suspects if necessary. The lights were only on in one room. During this time, Jack had learned how thoroughly the FBI agent had been investigating the cases and could see the resolution in her expression. Agent Walker's intuition was telling her that Michelle would be here, and it was clear she wouldn't let anybody stop her. 

Meanwhile, Jack had been blindsided reading through the information regarding these murders. If one could even call them that. They were more like executions. The victims had clearly shown signs of struggle and injury long before the final blow was delivered. He'd sat in the car trying to think of a logical explanation. Michelle wasn’t the kind of person to be selfish and do things for personal gain only. This hadn’t been on the spur of the moment. She had carefully planned these killings, researched her victims intently, and assessed every situation. There’d been no unrelated casualties, no innocent bystanders being hurt. This was Jack’s biggest sign that it was truly Michelle doing these things because she had made an explicit effort not to allow civilians to come to harm in the process. He also found himself thinking about how it would have been if the roles were reversed. Perhaps if Michelle had died by Saunders’ hand and Tony was getting his revenge.

"Look." Renee said suddenly. 

An unmarked van pulled up not too far from where they were. They watched as a figure stepped out, moving towards the back of the house quietly and swiftly. At the moment, their identity was unclear, but they would soon know. There was no smashing of glass or commotion, no obvious indication that they were breaking in. However, the lights didn’t come on in any other room. This was unlikely to be a simple visitor or occupant of the house. They were sure that this criminal lived alone and had no immediate family. When Jack and Renee noticed shadows and movement in the room where the criminal was, they quickly got out of the car. Renee was already giving orders to have the other teams trail them. The back door was unlocked, likely picked open, and the alarm had been discreetly disabled.

Jack moved upstairs towards the lit room as fast as he could while Renee and a few other agents swept the lower level. He quietly stepped across the hallway floorboards, trying to hear what was happening. There was a single voice. It was female and painfully familiar.

“You think nobody knows that you bribed the DA, huh?”

He heard a wince, slightly muffled by the door.

“Well, I do. The rest of the world might think that you’re innocent, but I’m going to make you pay.”

The same person who had winced before let out a louder cry of pain.

There was no doubt about the identity of the first voice now, and Jack couldn’t bear to let his mind make up stories anymore. He had to know the truth. When he opened the door, he found Gardiner gagged and bound to a chair. Deep cuts across his chest caused blood to drip onto his shirt and the floor. He reacted to Jack’s entrance, causing Michelle to whip her head around to face him. If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. But seeing her face-to-face stopped him from maintaining his own collected facade.

“Michelle…”

She turned back to the prisoner. “Looks like it’s your lucky day.” Michelle pulled out a gun and shot the man in the chest before running to the window, frantically trying to open it.

Jack ran to grab her from behind, and he could immediately tell how much stronger she was. She was so different to the broken-down, exhausted version of her he had known so many years ago. The gun fell from her grip. Michelle shoved her body weight against him, elbowing his stomach sharply. At the sound of Jack’s groan, the scattered footsteps on the lower level suddenly grew louder and made a racket as they climbed the stairs. Michelle faced Jack now. Her fist was already on a collision course towards his face. He pushed it aside, grunting as she kneed him in the stomach. They had never fought each other, save for a few training drills when she'd started at CTU. But right now, Jack could tell her movements were calculated. She wasn’t holding back. There was no hesitation. No uncertainty. She knew what she wanted.

Every moment of eye contact formed a silent communication between them. Jack tried to predict her next move and whether there was some kind of play here. Maybe he’d only witnessed one act, but he knew that every other murder in that file was unmistakably Michelle’s doing. Which meant Jack had nothing to base his judgement on. He didn't know what to expect anymore. And Agent Walker's words suddenly made more sense. The speculations and theories around her motivation for killing these people no longer sounded farfetched. It made him angry. He felt betrayed. He felt lied to. He felt responsible and that he should have been there for her more. He told himself that he should have fought harder to prevent Tony from going to prison in the first place, even if his actions had warranted it.

One of the agents must have caught up because, for a split second, Michelle looked like she was caught off-guard. He managed to punch her in the face, but she retaliated quickly, kicking and pushing him back with everything she had. Her nose started to bleed. Jack shoved her against the wall, pinning her by the throat. Renee stood alongside him, pointing a gun at her. She didn’t react, instead staring into Jack’s eyes. He couldn’t see a single shred of the warmth and kindness of the person he once knew. The gaze was stony and harsh, as though the past six years had taken every sense of humanity and faith within her and crushed it.

“What happened to you?” He asked desperately. “Michelle, what the hell happened to you?”

Again, she didn’t respond or react in any way. She complied as one of the other agents cuffed her.

They drove back to the FBI and took her straight to an interrogation room. One of the superior agents, Larry Moss, tried to talk to her. He called her a murderer, called her delusional, called her a revenge-seeker, among other things. She didn’t speak. She didn’t even wipe the blood which had dried around her nose and mouth. When talking didn’t seem to do anything, he tried showing her photos of the bodies, her victims, to see if that provoked her. There was no pride, no guilt, no anger, nothing. The killings seemed detached from her, as though to her, each one was simply a task, another person on the list to cross off so they couldn't cause or create destruction in this world anymore.

Jack and Agent Walker watched intently from the vestibule as Agent Moss' frustration only seemed to grow. They had part of the picture, but there were still unanswered questions. Was she being paid in any way like an assassin? Was she choosing these victims herself? How was she evading security cameras and cleaning up the evidence so effectively? How was she able to move around so quickly? She couldn't be working alone, but who could be helping her? Who could possibly have the same mindset as her? Who could care so much to help Michelle do this with such a risk of being caught?

Agent Moss sighed as he stormed back in.

“Nothing. Nothing. She’s a psychopath.”

Jack looked over at her again, trying so hopelessly to read her and understand what was truly going through her head.

“Let me try. I’m the one that knows her the best. I might be the only one who can get her to talk.”

Jack listened to the door close behind him as the guard left. Michelle stared daggers into him. Her hands were cuffed beneath her. The electrodes to monitor her heart rate were visible through the tank top she wore under her leather jacket. She hadn’t seemed fazed by any of Larry’s tactics, but Jack wondered whether his presence would make a difference. Whether being someone from her past would be the thing that broke her. 

He crossed his arms. “I did CPR on you for twenty minutes before the paramedics got there. You had no pulse, but I kept going anyway, thinking I could save you. You want to explain to me how you’re alive?”

She said nothing.

He scoffed. “Didn’t think so.”

Moving behind her, he bent down to whisper into her ear. “I know what you’re trying to do. You think that killing these people will make the world a better place. You think if you don’t punish these people, then nobody will.”

Again, Michelle didn’t react or respond in any way.

Jack sat across from her. “Look at you…” He sighed. “Why are you doing this? This isn’t you. The Michelle I knew would never do this.”

“Things have changed, Jack.” She replied coldly. “The government can’t be trusted to deliver justice anymore. That’s why I have to.”

Renee saw confusion appear on Jack’s face. He looked as though he wasn’t even sure he was speaking to Michelle. She could see the emotional turmoil within, the sense of betrayal. He’d been the one to find her so-called body. He’d been the one to try to help her and be there for her when Tony was killed. She couldn’t imagine how he was feeling.

“Michelle, they’re calling you a serial killer. It doesn’t matter who these people were. They are still going to give you the death penalty. They won't consider whatever ‘cause’ you think this is for. But if you confess, if you work with me, if you hand in the evidence you have, I might be able to get you a reduced sentence. Maybe even immunity.”

“Prison?” She sneered. “Wouldn’t that be rich? Putting me in the place that killed my husband. Sure, Jack, go ahead. Make my job easier for me and put me in the place I’ve broken people out of time and time again so I can punish them the way they deserve.”

He raised an eyebrow. “So you admit it?”

Michelle shrugged. “I stand by what I’ve done. I’ve made sure that these people, who have done nothing but hurt others and have no hope of reformation, were stopped. Something that the government has failed to do.”

His expression softened. It pained him so much to see her so distant, so frigid, a shadow of who she once was. He wondered if she was high, after all, that would be a perfect explanation for all of this, that drugs were destroying her brain as they had been all those years ago. Jack searched her eyes, but there was no indication of such a thing. She didn’t seem to have a problem staring him down. She looked far too focused and angry to be high. 

“You were an upstanding agent. You worked so hard to serve this country, even after Tony’s death. I don’t understand, Michelle. What changed? What made you go so far as to destroy yourself like this?”

“Because for every terrorist or criminal we took down, five more people out there got immunity or some bullshit deal just because they had the information we needed.” There was a gravelly tone to her voice that Jack had never heard before. “And the cycle just went on and on and on. I was sick of it. I was sick of working hard for a government that let these people be, even though Tony had to serve a prison sentence he didn’t deserve. A prison sentence that cost him his life.”

Renee had to admit that her reasons were oddly well-intentioned. But it still stunned her how someone could be driven so far after having such a strong sense of faith and justice once upon a time. There was no doubt that the first murders had been to avenge Tony. But every consequent one was a statement, a message to say that the government wasn’t trying hard enough to do this themselves.

“You think Tony would be happy to hear that you’ve done this?”

She shook her head. “That doesn’t matter Jack, because he’s not here. Why are you acting so shocked by all of this? You know that being undercover changed me. This isn’t just about Tony. This is about everyone who’s had to suffer because our government was too incompetent to punish people properly. Tony’s death was the catalyst for thoughts I’ve had since we busted the Cyprus recording.”

“Michelle, you killed inmates on death row. How is that not enough?”

“Because why should they get to live in the meantime, Jack? Why should they be allowed to continue living when all they’ve done is take innocent lives?”

He sighed again, frustrated. “This doesn’t add up. This has to be more than just random killings. Either you’re working for someone or they're forcing you to do this. I know you, you’re not like this. You wouldn’t let personal revenge drive you to do something like this.”

“It’s not about revenge, Jack. It’s about everything that’s happened to us. Nina was in prison for what, a year?” Renee watched the slight twitch in Jack's jaw. “Then she was allowed to fuck off to the middle of nowhere so long as she didn’t make too much trouble? You’re going to act like that didn’t bother you? Like that wasn’t the reason you shot her the first chance you had?”

“This isn’t about me.” He snapped.

“Jack, you wouldn’t have killed her if it wasn't for the fact that you didn’t trust the government to do the right thing and put her away for good.”

He was silent.

“Just admit that I’m right. Just admit that you feel the same way about these things as I do. The only difference is that I’m actually doing something about it.”

“You’re using this as an excuse for your grief.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yeah, like you’re the poster child for dealing with loss.”

“Watch it.”

“You think Teri would be happy to hear what you’ve done?”

In one swift motion, he knocked the table onto its side before grabbing her by the neck and backing her against the wall. She struggled against him, but he tightened his grip, causing her to gasp.

“Why are you doing this?” He roared. “I know you’re hiding something, so tell me or I swear to God, Michelle…”

Michelle uttered something under her breath, so quiet he couldn’t even hear it, despite being inches from her face.

“What did you say?” He whispered.

She met his eyes. “Deep…sky…”

“Jack, let her go!” Agent Moss yelled from behind him.

He let go, flinging his hands up. She wheezed, tenderly rubbing the inflamed skin around her neck where he had choked her.

The guards escorted him outside. Jack heard Agent Moss request for a medic before he moved to a nearby corner, fished his cell from his pocket, and checked that he hadn’t been followed. He dialled the number she’d referred to, surprised at his memory.

“Hello?” The voice was somewhat high-pitched but modulated to hide their identity.

“This is Jack Bauer.” He muttered. “I was told to call this number.”

“By who?”

“Michelle Dessler.”

There was a scraping noise, as though something was being pushed around the receiver. 

“Where is she, Jack?”

His eyebrows lifted. “Chloe?”

She huffed. “Where is she, Jack? Where’s Michelle?”

“A-At the FBI. She’s been arrested for dozens of murders. What’s going on, Chloe? Why did she ask me to call you?”

If he had any doubt that he was speaking to Chloe O’Brian it disappeared when she let out a frustrated groan. 

“I'll explain later. Just get Michelle out of there, Jack.”

It took considerable effort to break out of the FBI, but with Chloe's help, they managed to get away from the authorities. Jack was surprised to see Chloe’s change in appearance too. She had also adopted a more intense wardrobe, wore heavier makeup, and had shorter hair dyed jet-black. Michelle’s expression softened with relief as they got out of the FBI. She looked more like herself now. He could see slightly pinkish skin where he’d strangled her and felt a pang of guilt. Jack asked them where they were headed several times in the car, but neither of them responded. 

When they eventually arrived at the small safe house, Chloe quickly snatched Jack’s phone away and switched it off. 

He looked between them.

“What the hell is going on?” 

Michelle sighed and Chloe looked at the ground. It seemed that neither of them knew where to start.

“Fine. I’ll start.” He said shortly before turning to Michelle. “First of all, how in God’s name are you alive?”

“One of the paramedics was…a contact of mine from when I was undercover. She promised me a favour when Gaeta was busted and I let her get away. So she helped me fake my death. Dying was the only way for me to be able to do what I had to.”

“So you really…you really did do everything you said?”

She nodded. “The law wasn’t doing its job. The law was supposed to protect him. The law was supposed to punish those who were responsible. The first guy I killed was the one that got out on parole after being part of the ambush on Tony. I wanted him dead as soon as I found out. But I knew that would make me a pretty obvious suspect, especially given my reputation at CTU. And then I realised I didn’t just want him dead because of Tony. I wanted him dead because he was a bad person who wasn’t being punished in any way. The other people involved were in the same boat. They were all part of the same gang that did nothing but cause destruction and pain. But there was never enough evidence to take them down.”

“That’s where…” Chloe started. “I come in. I-I felt the same. There was corruption all around me. I couldn't trust anybody at CTU. It always felt like everybody had some hidden agenda. So I started releasing confidential evidence, breaking down security systems, and things like that, so people would know the truth. They needed to know that the government wasn’t punishing people how they were supposed to.”

Jack gaped. He’d heard about various security breaches in the government over the years. The panic was so high it'd made headlines.

“Once we figured out that we wanted the same thing, we started working together. I would find the person or gang or whatever, make their information public, send the money in their bank accounts to charity or their families, and Michelle would make sure they didn’t hurt anybody again.”

He didn't know how to feel. On one hand, Jack couldn’t argue with their ethos. They were right to an extent and he understood their logic. But at the same time, whatever hope the government had of reforming, of becoming more stable and reliable, was being taken away by their actions. Seeing that two people he cared about had changed so much was just so much to process.

“Jack, I know this might seem like a lot, but you have to understand.” Michelle hardened her voice. “Chloe and I both stayed at CTU and worked relentlessly to try and make things right in the government. We led high-profile missions and reported misconduct. We did everything we could. But eventually, we realised…no matter how hard we tried, it would never be enough. The system is broken. You can’t deny that. The two of us have done more to deliver justice in six years than the government has in decades.”

Nobody said anything for a long time. What was he supposed to reply to that with? Of course, hearing it from this perspective was helping. He knew better than anyone that sometimes rules had to be bent or broken for results to be achieved. So how was this any different?

“I’ll admit…I admire you both for what you’re doing because you’re doing it for the right reasons. To be honest I think the shock of it all is just clouding my judgement.” He met Michelle’s gaze again.

Seeing how clearly taken aback he was by everything made her twinge. She thought about how he must feel to see her after not only watching her die but trying to save her too. 

A computer beeped from another room, and Chloe whipped her head around. “I’ll be back.”

The room was a little stuffy, so Michelle took off the leather jacket, moving to set it down on a chair. True to the security camera photo Agent Walker had shown him, one of her arms and from what he could see, almost the entirety of her back was now heavily tattooed. He knew she’d always had a few. The one that came to mind was the small ankh on her hand. She’d gotten it a few days after the Cordilla virus outbreak. He had never been sure why. He’d seen the sword design on her calf, she'd had it for as long as he'd known her. There were probably others he hadn't seen either.

He took a moment now to study them. There was a sleeve of some combination of plants, birds, and intricate mandalas. From where she stood, the back of the tank top revealed the beginnings of a bigger piece on her back. Jack could see wings and flames, slowly narrowing his eyes to try to discern what it was. Somehow, Jack knew this tattoo was symbolic. It was special to her, it had some deeper meaning.

“It’s a phoenix.” She muttered, hands naturally trailing to touch where she noticed him staring.

“Because you rose from the ashes…” He whispered, voice heavy with understanding.

“I took a chance that day. There was always a risk they wouldn't get to me in time. I-I told myself that if it was meant to be, that if I was supposed to die then and there, I would. But if I woke up?” She hardened her voice a little. “I would reinvent myself. I wouldn’t have to answer to anyone. I wouldn’t have to do what anybody expected of me. I wouldn’t be stopped.”

Jack nodded slowly.

“I didn’t mean what I said back there. I just…I knew you would understand better if Chloe was the one to tell you and not me. I get that you don’t exactly trust me right now.” Michelle pressed her lips into a thin line, turning to face him. “I-I’m sorry that you had to be the one who found me. Honest to God, I thought it would be some poor hotel maid. I thought it’d be bad enough for you to get the news over the phone, let alone see-” She took in a breath. “And I’m so sorry for pushing you away, for treating you the way I did, especially when I know all you were trying to do was protect me. I needed help, but I was too selfish to admit it.”

“You don’t have to-”

“No.” She interrupted. “I do. There’s no excuse. Yes, I was grieving. Yes, I was in pain, but you didn’t deserve to be hurt too. You were struggling as well.”

“Thank you, I…in all honesty, I’m just happy that you’re both okay. That I haven’t lost everybody.”

He still seemed to be staring at her. She recognised the look. It was the kind he used when he tried to gauge someone’s character, usually someone he didn’t know. It hurt a little to think that he had to rethink his trust and opinion of her. 

“You’re clean.”

“Yeah.” She whispered with a small smile. “Three years. You’ll have to thank Chloe for that. She said she’d only help me if I sobered up and…I did.”

“I’m proud of you.”

Even more guilt washed over her now, thinking back to when Tony had been killed and how understanding he’d been. Even when she'd screamed at him, even when she'd been a wreck, he hadn't left her alone, he hadn’t stopped trying to comfort her. She wondered whether letting him in, if letting their mutual experience help each other heal and move on, would have stopped her from all of this. She didn’t regret what she’d done. No, she had set out to deliver justice that nobody else could, and she had done it without once feeling guilty. Every target she set out to hunt down was irrevocably deserving of being stopped from continuing their treachery. Chloe was there to help her distribute whatever wealth and information their victim had and make sure it was put to good use.

“So what now? The FBI is onto you. Any high-profile target they find, they’ll assume it’s you like they did last night. You have to run.”

Her shoulders lifted slightly. “Not now that we’re in DC. We weren’t only here to kill Gardiner.”

Moving over to the table, she grabbed a laptop and opened it to reveal a man’s profile. Jack furrowed his brow, reading the details there.

“Who’s Alan Wilson?”

“A private military executive. The man linked to nearly every case we’ve had. It took Chloe a long time to make the connections, usually very minute, but there. He has people all over this country who are either paid or blackmailed to obstruct justice. Prison wardens, federal agents, attorneys, you name it. When we say we don’t trust the government anymore, it's not a baseless claim.” She pointed at his picture. “This man is why Gardiner and so many others get out on parole, why they’re allowed to live freely as if they hadn’t done anything. Anyone who’s ever gotten close to figuring this out has been silenced one way or another. There's never been any real evidence to convict him of anything. He’s also incredibly elusive.”

There was a strong sense of disdain behind Michelle’s voice and Jack knew that to have a single source, a single driving factor behind all of these atrocious crimes who couldn't be punished in any way, shape, or form, must make her blood boil.

“He travels a lot and is always heavily guarded. But if Chloe’s search result works, we might be able to find his location, which we have reason to believe is in DC.”

“Michelle, the FBI will find you.”

She shook her head. “No, they won’t. They’ll look into legal records, thinking my next target will be another criminal. But Wilson has been hiding under their noses all these years. His crimes are not common knowledge.”

Her eyes were so serious and determined. Jack knew that everything was riding on this. If she didn’t get to kill him today, he didn’t know how she’d react. He knew by this point that Michelle wouldn't allow anyone to go after him or waste time having him apprehended. She was a hunter with eyes locked on her prey. If Chloe got ahold of his computer, that would be enough. Killing Alan Wilson truly could reform the justice system. But perhaps it didn’t end with him. Maybe there was a contingency plan with many others lined up to take his place. In any case, Michelle would punish him. Whatever hope Jack might have had of convincing her to stop, that she’d done good, but she’d done enough, had dissipated. He didn’t want her to do this. It wasn’t right. Alan Wilson needed to be exposed to the government. He couldn’t just be killed mysteriously. In fact, he could have information. Whether he’d give it up easily was its own issue, but at this moment, Jack knew Wilson was far too high-profile to just be left alone.

Chloe walked back into the room, an urgency in her expression. “We’ve got it…we actually know where he is. He’s in an office building in Columbia Heights.”

Her eyes widened. “That gives us a window of a couple of hours. We need to move.”

“Wait…let me come with you.”

They both turned to Jack. “Why?”

“I-I want to help. If he’s the man you say he is, then you can’t do this alone. But more than anything…I don’t want you to kill him.”

“What? Jack, you realise who this man is-”

“Michelle, you know it wouldn’t stop with him. The conspiracy could run even deeper than you believe. You can’t just let the information go. The FBI needs to know. I’m sure whatever you’ve collected all these years and what you’ll get from his computer will be enough. We can make the investigation highly confidential. We can make sure justice gets delivered.”

Anger flashed in her eyes and she looked incredibly offended. Chloe, on the other hand, looked a little more understanding.

“You…you might be right, Jack.”

“Chloe, you can’t seriously be siding with him.”

She bit her lip. “Maybe we’re in way over our heads, Michelle. Maybe we’ll do more good by bringing them in on this.”

Michelle turned to face Jack again after a brief pause. “Then at least let me interrogate him first. If I can’t break him, I promise I’ll let you bring the FBI in. Deal?”

He met her eyes. “Deal.”

They split off at some point. Chloe spoke to them through a comm in each of their ears. The building was somewhat of a labyrinth, but now they were doing their final sweep and ensuring no alarms had been triggered. They hadn't spotted Wilson yet, but it was safe to assume he was out of plain sight for his protection. When they did find him, Jack wanted to be there. He wanted to know who they were dealing with. And a small part of him didn’t trust Michelle. A small part of him knew that although Michelle may once have been capable of holding back for the sake of a larger purpose, he suspected that was no longer the case.

Meanwhile, Chloe was compiling the information from both her and Michelle’s computers about Wilson, only stopping intermittently to give either of them directions. Michelle had already plugged a hard drive into one of the computers in the building, and it gave them a start. But Chloe was sure the computer in Wilson’s office would be the key. Most of the information they had between them so far was the same. After all, they’d worked together for so long. It was only natural to have such consistency. Her brow furrowed upon looking at a file on Michelle’s computer which Chloe swore she had never seen before. It was strange. The file wasn’t particularly recent. More than that, they didn’t hide things from each other. Why would they if they were working for the same cause? As Chloe scrolled through the information, things started to come together in her mind. Alan Wilson was an evil man, that was undeniable, but Michelle had always seemed to react so viscerally to his doings. Even before they left, when Jack had suggested helping her, she'd given him daggers.

But what Chloe found in that folder made everything make sense, like every loose end was being neatly tied up. 

She switched her audio channel so only Jack could hear her.

“Jack, you have to stop her. She’s going to kill him.”

“What? But she said-”

“Wilson was responsible for Tony's death."

“How?” He asked quietly, not knowing if Michelle was nearby.

“Remember how they thought Tony had witnessed some kind of deal he wasn’t supposed to see?”

He started to think back to the investigation. He remembered how relieved Michelle had been to finally have an answer, no matter how cruel.

“Wilson was involved. The other prisoners harassed Tony because Wilson wanted to use him. They tried to coerce him into doing something, maybe in exchange for a pardon. But Tony refused, and because they knew he had connections to CTU, they had to kill him.”

“Why didn’t you tell me this?” Jack exclaimed.

“Because I only just found out! She kept it from me, Jack. If I’d known, I never would have let her do this. Which means you’re the only one who can stop her.”

Frantically, he started to walk faster, looking around for Michelle. He moved into a hallway and was close to what had to be Wilson’s office by elimination. It was eerily silent. He couldn’t confront her directly. She wouldn't listen. But if he’d been concerned about Michelle losing it before, alarm bells were ringing now. 

When she entered his line of sight, she seemed perfectly calm.

“All clear. His office is the room at the end.” She indicated with her head.

He nodded warily. Jack didn't walk in front of her but alongside her, so he could watch her. He had no idea if she knew he was onto her. And if today had taught him anything, it was that whatever he used to expect of Michelle no longer held water. But she seemed to have her composure. She seemed to be intending on doing what she had promised him. Maybe Chloe was just worried. The entirety of their cause was about delivering justice. If she got Wilson's information, that should be enough for her. He'd grasped that when he'd interrogated her, that she was doing this all for a greater good, that she wasn’t acting selfishly, that she was doing what she would have done as an agent, just without the red tape.

After all, it had been so many years since she murdered the prisoners that killed Tony. And it wasn’t like they'd been innocent people either. Michelle had long since moved on from making these killings about Tony only. 

Had she?

No, Jack could see it in her eyes now. Michelle didn’t look like ‘talking’ to Wilson was her only intention. He didn’t know how she was going to play this. What he did know was that she was going to slaughter Wilson. And he had to prevent that.

Otherwise, the truth would die with Wilson and be buried forever.

Jack eyed the fire alarm panel on the wall. If he pulled it, it would be all over. He could restrain Wilson, call the FBI, and take this out of Michelle’s hands. He could stop her from destroying herself. Because he’d been in this exact position once upon a time, and he knew it hadn’t done anything. He’d told himself for years that he’d killed Nina because she deserved it, that it wasn’t specifically about Teri. But it had been a lie. His argument that it was in self-defence hadn't been convincing. Everybody knew that. But they'd been too afraid to offend him, and more importantly, they'd needed him too much on that day to lose him.

Michelle noticed his gaze flit to the small, red box. When he didn't look at the box, he immediately looked back at her. He watched her like a hawk, which meant he was suspicious of something. She realised Chloe hadn’t spoken into her comm for quite some time. 

“Chloe, we’re going into his office now.” Jack pressed his finger to his ear. 

From a distance, Michelle could hear Chloe respond. But not in her own comm. Had Chloe isolated one of the channels? Why would she do that if she knew she and Jack were headed for the same target?

Unless she had a need to talk to him privately.

Everything clicked at once.

He knew.

Their eyes met briefly, and the realisation was there between them. Jack's hand shot out to the fire alarm, but she yanked him back by the fabric of his shirt. Suddenly, her knee dug into the back of his and caused him to lean back involuntarily. He groaned, desperately trying to grab at her, but she forcefully kept him immobilised. Locking her arms around his neck, she felt him struggle against her but knew that in due time, he would still.

“I’m sorry, Jack, but I can’t let you stop me.” She whispered as Jack fell limp in her arms.

The first thing he heard when Jack came to was Chloe’s voice yelling in his ear. He sighed a little, gradually regaining consciousness and feeling the stiffness in his neck. The door to Wilson’s office was shut like before, but he knew now it was probably locked.

“Jack, you need to stop her.”

He slowly got up, stumbling as he regained his balance. “What do you think I just tried to do, Chloe?” His breaths were slow, and his voice was slightly choked. “Look, if he’s really Tony’s killer, then maybe if she does this, it’ll put an end to everything. Maybe she’ll stop for good after this.” 

Jack walked over to the office, unable to hear anything on the other side. He figured it was likely soundproof for meetings.

“But that’s just it, Jack, he’s not.”

His face screwed up in confusion. “What?”

“You’re not going to believe this…”

Meanwhile, Michelle had already gagged Wilson and bound him to the chair. He’d been idly typing at his computer when she’d arrived, completely unaware that his security team was entirely incapacitated. It’d been easy for her to fire the tranquilliser dart into his shoulder, his confused expression quickly drooping as he passed out. As she’d waited for him to wake, she’d kept the door behind her closed using another chair. Michelle had also taken the transmitter she’d brought and plugged it into his computer, knowing that Chloe would want to search it as much as possible.

Wilson blinked wearily at her. She stood over him menacingly as he tried to move but found his efforts futile.

“For a long time, I was content with everything, you know? I thought by killing those prisoners that he’d been avenged, that it was over.” Michelle scoffed harshly, shaking her head, before grabbing him by the chin. “But then I looked closer and realised there was more to it. That you were behind it, and every other thing I’ve had to go around trying to stop, every other bad person that would never be punished was because of you.”

She punched him in the face once, then again, just as he tried to turn back to face her. Her knuckles were already bruised, but she disregarded the ache.

“It took me a long time to hunt you down, to get you alone. But we’re here now. Just you and me. No more hiding.” 

He laughed a little, slightly muffled by the gag.

Her cheek twitched. She punched him in the solar plexus. He groaned softly, unable to hunch because of the rope binding him.

“He was never supposed to be in prison. That’s not your fault. I’ll admit that.” She sneered before speaking gravelly. “But you took him away from me.”

There was already a trickle of blood running from his nose. Wilson still had such a smugness to his posture, not showing any emotion. She wanted to shoot him then and there but restrained herself, knowing she could make him suffer more if she waited. He didn’t deserve to die quickly. What she did do, however, was take one of the golf clubs beside his desk and swing it to hit his ribcage, then his kneecaps, satisfied at the resulting snaps.

“And that wasn’t the only thing you took from me.” She suddenly seized him by the throat, her voice rough with emotion. “I was pregnant when he died. I was supposed to visit him the next morning and tell him that he was going to be a father.” Michelle tightened her grip. “But I miscarried two days later because of all that grief, all of that heartache, all of that pain that you caused me.

Michelle whipped her head around at the sound of someone jiggling the door handle. Time was up. She noticed the ornate letter opener on his desk, most notably, how sharp it was.

“You took my family away from me!” She screamed, grabbing the tool and plunging it into his stomach, making sure he saw the anger in her eyes as she did so, whilst willing away the tears that were welling. Warm blood splashed onto her, but she didn’t care. She needed to watch the life drain from his eyes. She needed to see this through. 

Because once this was over, she would be at peace. She could go to Tony’s grave and tell him that it was over for real this time. When she thought she’d achieved this all those years ago, that had been the only time she’d felt brave enough to face his grave, to face him. But then she’d found out about Wilson’s involvement and been ashamed of herself for not doing enough. She hadn’t gone back since.

Screaming once more, she stabbed him again, and again, watching droplets of blood spray on his shirt, his desk, and his skin.

The door suddenly burst open, the chair rattled to the floor, and Jack looked at the scene before him, horrified. Wilson’s desk and computer obscured part of his vision, but the blood around them made the situation clear.

“Michelle, he’s alive.” He blurted.

She held the weapon from a distance as though she was about to drive it into Wilson’s body again. “What?”

“Tony.” His voice was shaking. “Tony’s alive.”

Michelle scoffed, turning to him. “God, Jack, you must be really desperate if you’re lying to me to try and make me stop.”

Cautiously, he started to walk towards her, seeing more and more of the violence which had ensued. 

“I’m not.” He spoke gravely. “Chloe found an encrypted link to a live stream on Wilson’s computer. He’s got Tony at some kind of black site. They’re torturing him for information. They’ve been torturing him for information the whole time. She’s going to send it to me as soon as the location triangulates, but she knows it’s in DC somewhere.”

While she didn’t react visibly, Jack saw the slight tremble in her body as though somehow she believed him. She thought about how she never saw his body properly, how quick the prison guards had been to pull her away from the scene. Either because she’d been looking at some John Doe or because he’d still been breathing. Michelle pulled the gag from Wilson’s mouth. 

“Is this true?” She asked very quietly.

He chuckled weakly.

Swiftly, she moved behind him, pressing the bloody edge of the letter opener against his neck.

“Tell me, you son-of-a-bitch, is this true? Talk now, and I’ll make this quick.”

Wilson let out a breath. “A-All he had to do was give my people the information I wanted, and he could have been a free man.” Again, the man laughed as though it had been some game, something he’d simply done for sport. “He refused, but I’ve gotten what I wanted out of him anyway.”

Michelle met Jack’s eyes with disgusted understanding.

“I’ve got a location on Tony. I’m sending it to you now.” Chloe’s voice sounded in both of their comms.

Before he could respond, Michelle took the blade and dragged it slowly across the hollow of Wilson’s throat, not breaking her eye contact with Jack. 

“No!” He shouted, but it was too late. 

There was no guilt, no regret, nothing. Whether Tony was dead or alive didn’t matter to her. What mattered was that the man behind it all was punished. Crimson poured from the wound profusely, and he choked a little, still somehow finding the urge within him to act amused. Eventually, he stilled, his skin pale, eyes permanently open. Michelle thrust the blade into his chest and walked away from the chair towards Jack.

“Let’s go.” She said coldly.

Jack drove as fast as he could while Michelle despondently stared ahead at the road in the passenger seat. He had sandwiched his cell phone between his ear and shoulder.

“This is Walker.”

“Agent Walker, I’m going to send you a location for you to direct a field team to.”

Her eyes widened. “Bauer? Where the hell have you-“

“I don’t have time to explain.” He replied firmly. “We have reason to believe that Tony Almeida is alive and being held hostage for information.”

She stuttered, trying to gauge whether or not to believe him.

“This is no ruse, Agent Walker. I’m sending you the location.”

Jack prayed she would listen to his request. The FBI was much closer to the location Chloe had sent him than they were. Whatever hope they had of getting to Tony in time was riding on the FBI. 

He felt oddly taken back to the day Michelle had called him so early in the morning, asking him, with such trepidation, to drive her to the prison. He remembered feeling dread wash over him, not entirely knowing what had happened but already reacting as though it were something deeply terrible. He remembered her sitting stoically in the car, much the way she was now, not saying a word, not showing any emotion on her face, the tension and fear palpable. She had kept her cool until they’d told her the truth in plain English.

As Jack thought about it, he realised the situation now wasn’t very different. Something was going on with Tony. They weren’t completely sure what. But from what Chloe had said, he was barely holding on. It had been eight years, Jack realised, eight years since Tony’s alleged murder. If they’d been torturing him for information, Tony would have fought back for as long as he could have before finally giving in. Jack could only imagine the dreadful things they were doing to him. He was sure Michelle was thinking of them too. But Jack was also sure they were both accounting for the possibility that Tony was already dead. That, perhaps, Chloe accessing the file might have somehow alerted Wilson’s people and given them ample time to finish Tony off so he would never be able to say a word.

Regardless of the circumstances, Tony was out there, and they needed to get to him.

When they eventually arrived at the dilapidated house, Jack was relieved to see tactical vans and hear gunshots. It seemed Agent Walker had listened to him. Hostiles were being dragged out in cuffs, and an ambulance was parked beside them. There was no sign of Tony or any other hostages, for that matter. It seemed Wilson had just wanted him. Michelle made a break for the door, and Jack quickly grabbed her bicep. 

“No!” She shook out of his grip. “I’m not letting you hold me back this time.” Even in that glimpse of eye contact before she bolted off, Jack could see so much adrenaline consuming her.

Renee moved towards him, asking for more details. She was flustered by the looks of it, surprised that he’d been telling the truth but still suspicious of him and Michelle after their escape. He began to explain as they walked into the place themselves. The FBI hadn’t searched the entire house yet. They had mainly focused on disarming and arresting the influx of enemies on the main floor.

Michelle felt her heart thunder in her chest as she ran past agents who were clearing out of the house. They looked at her as though she were deranged but seemed to know better than to engage in any aggression with her. Michelle found a small wing, empty as though not yet investigated, and her eyes fell to a flight of stairs leading down to a basement. Running down the stairs, she immediately gagged at the stench of blood and vomit. Around the room were various knives, clubs, needles, and some sort of electroshock device. She saw a sole figure, half sat up against a wall, motionless.

“Tony?…” 

She paced towards the figure. Somehow she already knew his identity, somehow her gut sensed who she was looking at.

As she neared, the smell grew stronger. There was blood and dirt all over his clothes and skin, but she mainly noticed the large stab wound on his abdomen. His hair had grown out wildly, sticking to the grime on his face. There was disfigurement in his hands as though the small bones there had been broken. Bruises covered his sickly pale skin, deep purple as though recent. To her worry, his eyes were shut.

“Oh my God.” Michelle breathed, not sure how to rouse him. Seeing how limp he was, she felt he might shatter if she touched him. It was as though they’d taken the time to beat and break every inch of him. Which was all the more reason for her to make sure he knew it was over now. Desperately, she squeezed his shoulders, repeating his name. He was still warm. He was still alive. But she wasn’t sure how much longer he could last. His eyes opened slightly, and he seemed to react to her presence with a jolt. Opening his mouth, Tony tried to speak but found himself violently coughing up blood.

“I need help!” She screamed at the top of her lungs. “Somebody help him!”

Renee had still been convinced that Michelle was playing another angle and had tried desperately to follow her tracks. As she settled upon the small room, the cry for help rang clear. After thundering down the stairs, with Jack not far behind, she found herself looking at Michelle Dessler. At least, she had to tell herself that. Because the distressed woman covered in blood, crouched on the floor, trying to support her dying husband, was certainly not the woman the FBI had interrogated twelve hours ago. She met her tearful gaze.

“Please.” She mouthed.

Without taking her eyes off either of them, Renee called for the paramedics in her comm before walking over to where they were. She couldn’t tell where he was bleeding from. It seemed to be one giant mess. Michelle was mainly trying to staunch any blood flow from his abdomen and muttering agitated nonsense under her breath. A stretcher was wheeled down the stairs and they were quick to put an oxygen mask over his face. Michelle followed them very closely behind. Although the orders had been to apprehend her, neither Renee nor any other agent that she passed dared to tear her away from him. Even the paramedics seemed to understand this, not denying her request to come into the back of the ambulance, very warily telling her to move back so they could work on him. Upon being told that, she promptly moved aside, dissociatively watching him, searching for some sign of life.

Jack and Renee sped to the hospital behind the ambulance, taking a few FBI agents with them. Tony would need to be heavily guarded. They couldn’t be sure how many of Wilson’s people were out there. Michelle would too in case she decided to storm into the FBI and butcher the people in custody already. But somehow, they had the feeling she wouldn’t want to leave Tony, even for the reason that had kept her going all these years.

When they arrived, Jack watched Michelle practically run with the paramedics as they raced Tony to the OR. They had to stop her at some point, saying they were entering a sterile zone and that she couldn’t be there. The doors shut loudly, and she was left standing there, running a hand over her face into her hair before cupping her mouth to stifle a cry. Jack couldn’t tell where Wilson’s blood stopped and Tony’s began on her clothes, a sight so jarring compared with the worry on her face. For the first time since he’d reunited with her, he finally felt like he was looking at Michelle again. The same Michelle that had called him early one morning asking very worriedly to be driven to the Los Angeles federal prison.

He walked towards where she was and she turned to face him. Whatever sense of numbing calmness she’d had before dissipated in an instant as she threw her arms around him. Jack caught her before her knees gave out. Michelle sobbed raggedly in his arms, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, breathing shakily only to break down in another wave of tears. He held her tighter, not wanting to say anything. She didn’t need words of reassurance right now, not when there was still so much uncertainty, it would just be pitying. Jack was sure she was still trying to figure out logically how this all happened. She just needed someone to absorb her shock, to absorb her pain, to absorb the hurricane of information that had just been thrown at her.

From a distance, Renee looked on at the two of them and came to accept that whatever she'd thought of Michelle beforehand, whatever her initial conception had been of her, had simply been but a scratch on the surface.

Hours passed before they finally wheeled Tony out. They already knew that he would need additional surgery. Many of his bones were broken. His blood was a concoction of various drugs, including an experimental paralytic, presumably to stop him from escaping. He was malnourished, and he had considerable hemorrhaging. Several internal organs were damaged. They would have to keep an eye on the stents and things put in place to ensure that they held up and his body didn't reject anything. Michelle was too out of it to fully understand anything. But Jack thanked the doctors on her behalf.

Renee had been on the phone for most of it, telling Larry what had happened to the best of her abilities. The president was involved at this stage, not at all pleased with the string of murders and especially being kept out of it. Jack had tried to explain some of it, but in the end, Chloe had volunteered to give herself up to tell their side of the story. She walked over to where they were still sitting in the hallway. Tony’s gurney was moved to a secured room, with FBI agents already standing sentry outside. 

“Jack…” She said quietly. 

He murmured something to Michelle, who leant her head on his shoulder, eyes bloodshot and cheeks stained with tears, before standing to face her. 

“We really need to question her soon, or you, or just…someone. O’Brian’s given us most of what we need, but the president wants to talk to you or Dessler.” 

He nodded. “I’ll go. Michelle will want to see Tony now that he’s out of surgery.”

Her face was hesitant, as though leaving Michelle alone was a recipe for trouble. As much as she felt more sympathetic towards her now than before, she still didn’t quite trust her.

“You can cuff me to his bed for all I care. As long as I get to stay with him.” Michelle suddenly said hoarsely.

Both of them looked at her, then back at each other. 

“I’ll stay with her.” Renee agreed. “There’s an agent outside who will escort you to the president.”

“Thank you.” He nodded appreciatively and told Michelle he would return as soon as possible before leaving.

When Michelle walked into the room, hands cuffed in front of her, one of the first things that caught her eye was how thin he looked. The hospital gown was so baggy on him. His head was now shaved and scarred. There were stark white bandages everywhere. He was hooked up to several drips. An oxygen mask covered his face. His heart rate monitor beeped steadily. He looked so sick, like a shell of his former self, she almost didn’t recognise him. She wouldn’t be surprised if he weighed less than her. The only word that could describe him right now was ‘defeated’. Her breath hitched before she slowly sat in the chair closest to him.

She didn’t take her eyes off him, simply looking at him blankly, almost zombie-like. Renee couldn’t even begin to imagine what she was going through. Not only was her husband, whom she’d thought to be dead for so many years, alive and lying in front of her, but there was still the unspoken possibility that it wouldn’t last. That Tony was just too far gone and that Michelle would lose him again. She shuddered to think of how Michelle would react if Tony didn’t make it now. On the other hand, Tony had motivated all of Michelle’s actions these past years. And Renee imagined that she had never felt particularly guilty about it. After all, he was dead. He never would have known. But not anymore. So Renee had to wonder how Michelle felt now.

At some point, Tony stirred a little, or at least Renee guessed he did. To be honest she wasn’t sure if he’d moved at all. The chains rattled slightly as Michelle quickly leaned forward and touched him. She mumbled quiet reassurances to him, gently brushing her hand against his temple, and his body relaxed again. Michelle looked up at the clock. They would be taking him back to surgery soon, with more intensive and precarious processes needed. The thought of him having to go under again terrified her. He was so frail. She couldn’t imagine them cutting into him any further. The fear of losing him that she had tried her hardest to suppress suddenly grew.

“Agent Walker?” Michelle asked, her voice a little croaked. She didn’t look at her when she did so. “Could you give me some time alone with him?”

Renee bit her lip.

“P-Please.” She turned her head to face her, bottom lip wobbling. “I-I have no reason to leave. I just need to talk to him.”

Letting out a breath, she agreed. There was no window in the room, still guards outside, and surgeons would be there soon. 

But what Renee did was call Jack’s number and put the phone's volume down, leaving it on a small table out of Michelle’s sight. If he was going to talk to the president, he was sure to be somehow trying to convince her to reduce Michelle’s sentence or perhaps pardon her completely. The president would only have access to the basic file outlines, which gave very little information about Michelle’s history as an agent or her reasoning for choosing her victims. Jack could sit there and vouch for her, but it wouldn’t be enough without evidence to support his statements. As wrong as it felt to be so intrusive on what was a dearly private moment for Michelle, having such tangible proof of her true character might be the final thing he needs. For a moment, Renee asked herself why she was doing this. Why she was so determined to help this woman get a lighter punishment or none at all? But just in these past minutes, just in the way Michelle watched her husband with such concern and love, she'd realised she was still looking at a human being. A human being who’d been lied to, betrayed, hurt, and simply kept trying to go on. 

When the door shut, Michelle took a moment to sniffle, letting a few more tears fall. She was almost surprised that she still could. She felt like she'd cried out every tear in her body before.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, Tony. I-I don’t know if you can understand me. But I’m going to say what I need to say because you might not…” She took in a breath, before shaking her head at the thought of saying anything aloud to tempt fate. Again, her face screwed up in pain and she lost her composure. “I-I’ve missed you so much. I-I can’t believe you’re alive after the horrible things they’ve done to you. I-I’m so proud of you for fighting back, for pulling through.”

Michelle lifted one of his hands in both of hers and pressed it against her cheek, needing to feel the warmth of his body, needing to ground herself.

“I-I’ve done some bad things.” She whispered harshly. “Bad, bad things, but for good reasons. At least, that’s what I told myself all these years. I-I don’t know how you’d feel about them. I never thought I’d have to ask myself this because you weren’t here. If you had been here, I probably never would have even thought about doing the things I had.” Michelle let out a whimper. She became cognisant of the stickiness of the blood on her clothes.“But the fact is, I’m not going to know what you think unless you wake up, so please, Tony. Just wake up and talk to me. Just open your eyes.” Breaking down once more, she buried her face against his bed.

She perked up at the sound of the door opening, and the doctors wheeled him away. Renee walked in with them, discreetly hanging up the call, and pleased to see Jack had stayed on the line. 

And as she watched Michelle whisper goodbye and good luck to Tony before crying again, resting her head between her knees, Renee knew that she had made the right choice.

“Mr Bauer, she is a cold-blooded murderer. You cannot expect me to simply condone that.” Taylor implored. 

What started as a simple discussion had escalated into a debate of morality, both of them making good points, but neither willing to back down.

“Wilson was in part, a revenge kill. I can’t deny that. But all the other people she’s killed would have died anyway or hurt innocent people.”

The president sighed. “As the leader of this country, I can’t let this go. She’s made her mission about delivering justice, so why should we make her exempt too?”

Jack’s phone rang suddenly. He’d only left it on in case of any emergency related to Tony or Michelle. He noticed the caller ID was Agent Walker, so he answered.

“Excuse me.” He said, pulling it from his pocket.

“This is Bauer.”

There was no answer.

“Hello? Agent Walker?”

He could hear something on the other side, but it was quiet, so he put the phone on speaker. Only then did he hear Michelle’s voice, so full of emotion, so sorrowful, so exhausted. She wasn’t talking to him. In fact, she seemed oblivious to the phone’s presence. Taylor’s eyes widened, and she moved it closer to her, so she could hear better. They let her words consume the otherwise silent room before the dial tone indicated someone had hung the phone up.

Jack cleared his throat. “Does that sound like a ‘cold-blooded murderer’ to you, Madam President?”

She was silent for a moment before nodding. “Bring her in. Let me speak to her.” Suddenly, she hesitated, turning to Agent Pierce. “No, actually. Set up the motorcade so I can visit the hospital where Almeida is.”

Agent Pierce acknowledged her request and left promptly. Jack felt relief flood over him, finally feeling that Michelle and Tony might have hope. He didn’t know what the president exactly had in mind, and he still had to believe it wasn’t a total pardon. But Jack knew that hearing Michelle had done something to change her perspective. If he did this, he would finally feel permitted to forgive himself after so many years of blaming himself for Tony’s death and Michelle’s fall from grace. No matter how much Michelle had told him it wasn’t his fault, he had still held himself responsible. 

But now he could make things right.

On the way, Jack called Renee, giving her a heads-up so Michelle wouldn’t be taken by surprise. Tony was still in surgery, so he figured Michelle likely hadn’t moved from the chair by his bed. 

“Michelle?” She asked.

Slowly, she looked up.

“The, uh, president wants to talk to you. She’s on her way. Just thought I’d let you know, in case you wanted to…freshen up or something, I don’t know.”

“Okay, thank you.” She replied, giving the agent a small smile but looking understandably nervous.

“I’m sure she’ll take a while with all the security protocols needed for her visit. Do you want me to get you a change of clothes or something?” Somehow she felt that if Michelle was going to try and convince the president to let her off a little easy, sitting there covered in blood wasn’t going to help.

Michelle seemed to contemplate this before nodding. 

“Wait.” Renee said just as she started to move. Removing a key from her pocket, she undid Michelle’s handcuffs. She rubbed her wrists tenderly before thanking her quietly.

Michelle splashed cold water on her face using the small sink in the adjacent bathroom, trying to breathe deeply and slowly. She looked up at her dishevelled reflection and wiped another tear from her eye. When she returned to the ward, an FBI t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants were laid on a chair for her.

“Hospital gift shop didn’t have anything. This was all I could get from the car, sorry.”

She shook her head. “It’s fine, thank you.” Again, the corners of her mouth upturned, and Renee felt a little more at ease.

When the president eventually arrived, it took several minutes for everything to settle, for guards to position themselves, for other patients and nurses to be sent to private rooms and kept unaware of what was happening, cameras switched off. The woman sat in the chair across from Michelle, with Agent Pierce, someone she’d met a handful of times, standing at the door. He seemed to remember her too, evident by the slight softness on his face, even beneath his otherwise neutral expression.

“How is your husband?” 

Michelle seemed taken aback, not expecting that to be the first thing the president would ask her.

“He’s…” She coughed to clear her throat. “He’s in surgery again. There’s a lot they’re still trying to figure out.”

Taylor nodded. “If he’s been able to fight for all these years, I’m sure he’ll pull through now.” She said earnestly before sighing. “You understand this puts me in a very difficult position, Ms Dessler. On one hand, you have served this country with honour, and even in these last six years, have only done what you felt our government was responsible for doing. It brings me great shame to think that it’s had to come to this, that you’ve had to take this responsibility upon yourself because you lost faith in the very thing you strove to serve. I understand now that you’ve mainly killed these people in pursuit of justice, albeit violently so.”

She pressed her lips together.

“But on the other hand, I cannot simply let you walk free." Her voice was stern but fair. "I cannot publicly let you be pardoned for this because the chaos and destruction it would initiate would be irreparable. People would use this ruling as an excuse to commit hate crimes and take advantage of it in other ways.” 

“Madam President, if I may?”

“Yes?”

“I-I understand what you’re saying. I never did any of this with the intention of wanting to get away with it because of my own pride or ideology. I just tried not to get caught so I could keep going and keep doing the things I believed were helping to make our country safer.” She let out a slight laugh of disbelief. “I knew getting caught was a possibility, and in all honesty, I didn’t care. Killing these criminals was the only purpose I had left in my life. Nothing else mattered. But now…” Michelle shut her eyes and let out a breath, trying to keep her composure. “Now the situation is obviously different. I know you can’t let me go, I get that. But whatever you decide to do with me, just…don’t make me leave him. Please, just…” Her voice broke. “Don’t take him away from me again.”

Their eyes met, and Michelle was consoled to find sympathy there. She had wanted to keep her strength up, to try not to look like an emotional wreck. But tears formed at the corners of her eyes again, and she simply no longer had the energy to fight them.

“You love your husband?”

“With every fibre of my being." 

“Then I want you to prove that you’re willing to put him above everything else, above all that you stand for.” She pulled a manila file from her briefcase. “Here’s what I propose. The safety of you and your husband is still of concern, especially his. I also understand that you may be the only person he trusts or feels safe around right now. He will be kept on heavy guard here until he recovers. Then he will be moved to a smaller hospital and into Witness Protection. If you give up all of the information you have collected these past few years and have a little faith in our government -- as hard as it may be -- for them to see this through, then you may join him.”

A crease formed on her forehead. The information was mainly Chloe’s. It was her cause too. It was something she’d worked so hard to keep protected. 

“What about Chloe O’Brian?”

“Ms O’Brian has already negotiated a work release deal. She will help to reinstate the Los Angeles CTU branch.”

That sounded reasonable to Michelle, but she knew there had to be something more to it. They couldn’t just let her go. She didn't think she would either if she was on the other side of the table here.

Her voice grew grave. “As for you, if you agree to the deal, we will implant a small tracking device in your body and one in your husband. If you are more than a certain distance apart or if activity in his heart ceases for more than ten minutes, the government will be alerted, and you will be incarcerated, Ms Dessler. And given your previous ventures breaking out convicts," she raised an eyebrow, "it will be nothing less than solitary confinement in a maximum security prison.”

“You’re going to chip my husband like a dog?” She asked, disgusted.

“The chip is also for his protection. I’ll leave it to you to choose if and when you tell him. This deal is for the sake of his wellbeing, not because I am condoning your behaviour.” Taylor placed the file on the table beside Michelle before standing to leave. “Have a think about it, but do appreciate what’s being offered here. And more importantly, think about what your husband would want you to do.”

“Thank you, Madam President.”

She nodded. “I hope you make the right decision.”

Jack came in a few moments later, finding Michelle scrutinising the details of the file.

“What’d she say?”

“They’ll let me go into Witness Protection with him, but…” Her voice seemed unconvinced, as though it were too good to be true. 

“But?”

“Only if we stay together. Which means…if Tony dies before I do, or he leaves me, the deal is off, and I go to prison for the rest of my life.” Michelle shrugged. “I… I can’t not tell him what I’ve done but at the same time…”

Jack sat down across from her, where Taylor had been before. “While I agree you should be honest with him, now isn’t the time. You just need to focus on being there for him. I know how angry you are about this whole mess. You probably want to finish the job. You and I both know deals might be made because they’ll be grasping at straws to get to Wilson’s people. It makes me sick. I hate it too.” He pointed at the folder in her hands. “But this has to be enough for you. Taking care of him, helping him to get better. He’s going to need to regain the strength to walk again, to speak, to eat. He needs help, Michelle. He needs you now more than ever. Maybe even more than you ever needed him. By killing Wilson, you've cut the beast at its head. You don’t need to keep going. Loving him and healing him will be enough.”

There was so much emotion in his voice, and Michelle understood how much he was begging her to take the deal. She was reminded again how much he cared for her and Tony. But only now did she truly see it, and only now was she truly receptive to it. He was right. She’d cleaned up the streets, and she’d done things for the right reasons, largely to honour him, largely because he wasn’t there with her. 

But now he was. 

If she had him with her, then she could keep him safe, and that would be enough.

They wheeled Tony back in, somehow covered in even more bandages and gauze than before, another tube added to the ever-growing array. His face was so tense, and she knew he was in much more pain than physical.

More importantly, she knew that he needed her. Her face twisted, and finally, the voice in her head that had driven her to go forth and destroy every last source of evil in this world was silent. Instead, the voice of nurture, of concern, of balance, his voice slowly came back. She realised she hadn’t heard it in a very long time and turned to look at Jack, her voice hardened with conviction.

“Tell her I’ll take it.”

Although an explicit time frame was never expected of him, Tony took a very long time to heal. So many simple, everyday tasks that were taken for granted, he had to learn to do all over again. Some days were harder than others. There were setbacks, relapses, and emergency surgeries. There were so many times when looking at him upset Michelle so dearly that she would run to the bathroom, sobbing at her reflection, not ever wanting to show him that side of her, not ever wanting him to think she didn’t have faith in him. Every time the doctors had said there was a chance he might not make it, she had been tempted to throw in the towel, let herself sink back into her addictions, but she had been determined enough not to, to stay clean, even taking advantage of the hospital counsellors when she needed to.

But she was still there by his side each day, no matter how tough. The small apartment the FBI had given her was barely used, save for the occasional shower or nap. She slept either sitting in the chair by his bed, and then tightly curled up against him when he was strong enough, and the wounds on his side had healed. Michelle refused to leave him. She wanted to watch every milestone, every sign that he was getting better, that he was coming back to her. Each small step warranted its own celebration. When he managed to eat a proper meal and keep it down. When he managed to walk the length of the hallway without assistance. When he simply managed to stay awake for more than a few hours without collapsing with exhaustion. 

She could still remember the first time he woke up. It was only for a split second, but Michelle was sure she would never be able to forget that moment.

They had said no more surgeries for now. He could just stay and rest in the ward without constantly being wheeled in and out to the OR or ICU. It would allow the anaesthetic to finally leave his system for good and give him a chance to wake up. He would need a lot of physical therapy, but the first step was opening his eyes. 

She had watched him for God knows how many days now, hoping that that moment would come, that there would be a sign aside from the steady beat of his heart monitor that he was alive. Sometimes it was hard to remember. Tony was still so pale, his skin so cold, his body shrouded by machinery. Renee was next to her, asking her more questions about Alan Wilson. Although they’d initially gotten off to an awkward start, given all that had happened that day, she had been more willing to understand her intentions and motivations over the past eight years than anybody else. Her eyes kept flitting back to him, just in case, just in case he woke up. Michelle started to wonder whether maybe she was being naive, whether this would take longer than she thought. 

Until she heard a quiet inhale, so weak one could almost mistake it for another hiss of his oxygen mask. 

Whipping her head around, she saw him slowly open his eyes as though he had paperweights on his eyelids. Michelle realised it had been so long since she’d looked into them. But, that fond feeling disappeared when she realised that the first thing she saw was fear, not confusion, not delayed grogginess from the drugs, but fear. 

He started to hyperventilate, and Michelle quickly got up to go closer to his bed so he could see her. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Renee press the call button on his bed.

“I’m here. I’m here, it’s okay.” She felt tears well in the corner of her eyes. “Baby, don’t be scared, please.”

Tony tried to move, and the little groan of pain he made broke her heart. Being mindful of the IVs in his hand, she took one of his hands in hers. She felt him try to squeeze back, but his grip was so weak. It was like it was taking all the energy he had to manage it. Michelle felt her pulse start to race too, that ever-present fear that he didn’t have enough fight left in him to heal rising to the surface. His eyes slipped shut again as his heart rate monitor started to beep rapidly. 

“Tony!-“

In the early days, Tony had been so distant, so paranoid, so confused as to where he was and what was happening. He would wake up screaming in the middle of the night with more fear and vulnerability than she had ever seen before. But when he had truly regained consciousness properly, the first thing he’d said had been her name. 

Of course, it had been devastating when he hadn’t recognised her immediately.

“Ms Dessler, he’s gotten violent. You understand you are going in at your own risk. We will sedate him if we have to, but we can’t guarantee you won’t get hurt.”

She shook her head vehemently. “If anyone’s going to be able to get through to him, it’s me.”

Shrugging, the nurse opened the door. Various things were scattered on the floor. He was standing near the bed with his back to her, gripping a nearby table for support. His legs were shaking. He was still so thin, so weak. He wasn’t supposed to be up and about. He hadn't regained consciousness that long ago, he was still slowly re-learning to move parts of his body. But, he had been agitated because he was unsure of what was going on, of where he was.

“T-Tony?” Michelle asked.

He turned around abruptly. She gasped, noticing fresh blood staining the front of the hospital gown. His stitches had probably come undone again.

“I’m not telling them anything.” Tony barked with a rasp. His voice sounded so rough and defensive that she almost didn’t recognise it. “You can tell Ritter to go fuck himself.”

“Oh God…” She whispered, shaking her head and feeling tears prick the back of her eyes. Ritter was one of Wilson’s men. To her solace, he was now serving a life prison sentence with no chance of parole. Which meant Tony didn’t know where he was. He thought he was back there. He thought he was somewhere where he needed to keep his guard up to protect himself. 

As Michelle stood there, unable to find words, she flinched with a slight yelp when something flew past her ear as he threatened her again. 

Maybe the nurse was right. Maybe she was crazy to think Tony would recognise her when he had been so hostile with all the other doctors and nurses. 

But against her better judgement, against every part of her brain that was telling her she should be scared, she should be cautious, that he wasn’t the same person, Michelle decided to give him one last chance. She clung to the small hope that he would heal, that deep down within him was the Tony she knew and loved and had sorely missed. She paced forward slowly, approaching him like one would a wild animal. To her relief, he didn’t try to retaliate. But as she neared him, she felt a pang in her chest at how much his body was trembling, how much energy he was using just to try and keep himself standing. 

“It’s me…it’s Michelle.” With quivering fingers, she reached out to touch his face. As she tried to take in a breath it got caught in her throat. “Y-Your wife.” She barely whispered, no longer able to fight back her tears. “I-I promise I’m not going to hurt you.” It made her so upset that she even had to tell him this.

His eyes met hers, warily scanning her face as though trying to figure out who she was. But to her relief, the scowl on his face started to disappear. Instead, his mouth fell agape in shock, his eyes now just as teary as hers.

“M-Michelle?” Tony asked weakly.

She nodded fervidly, feeling relief flood her as his arms wrapped around her. Michelle could feel him stumble a little, unsteady on his feet, but she did her best to support his body weight.

“I…I thought you weren’t real.” He choked. “I-I thought they’d drugged me again, I thought…” Tony exhaled with a shudder. “They told me you were dead.” 

“I’m okay…I’m right here. I’m here with you now. Those people are gone. They’re not going to hurt you again. You’re safe here.” It wasn’t the whole truth. The FBI was still tracking down most of Wilson’s associates. There was no telling whether one would try and finish what Ritter had started, even if Wilson was no longer around to direct them.

He started to cry, and Michelle hushed him, telling him it was okay, before gently guiding him back onto the bed to sit down, holding him close. And for the first time since the day they’d found him, she felt like there was a light at the end of the tunnel. 

That he could heal, and they could have a life together again.

She had cried with relief for so long that day, as had he. There were questions and worries about where she had been, but she avoided them, mainly out of not wanting to trouble him. So she hadn’t quite told him everything yet. And in all honesty, she wasn’t sure how she would when the time came. But, with the main focus being his recovery so they could both be moved somewhere safer, Tony seemed to make do with simply being happy that she was okay.

When the day eventually came for them to go home, Jack had volunteered to be the one to drive them both, with strong security detail added to either side of the car. Their place was a few hours away in a small town. A hospital was not too far, should they need it. There were also plenty of options for work if they wanted them, but otherwise, the weekly stipend from the FBI would suffice. Michelle had spent a lot of time planning and considering what they would do. Any government work was obviously off the table, at the risk that she would double-cross them. But some private consulting or IT work would likely be enough if they needed the money. In her eyes, it didn’t matter where they were or what they were doing, she just wanted to be with him, and he just wanted to be with her.

He fell asleep in the back seat, and Michelle positioned herself so his head rested in her lap. She simply watched him silently, just as she always tried to do when he was asleep, making sure he didn’t disappear, making sure he felt safe and knew where he was. Her fingers laced through his hair. It was still shorter than she was used to, and she could feel the bumps of the scarred skin underneath. He’d gotten some of the colour and fullness back to his cheeks, but he was still very thin. This was simply the next step in recovery for him, giving him a chance for a new life again.

Eventually, the car stilled outside their new house. The place was partially furnished, with a few more moving trucks set to come in the next few days. FBI agents quickly checked the property, setting up surveillance and security systems. It was small, surrounded by many trees and near a large forest. The area was secluded and peaceful, something they’d both craved for so long. They didn’t need much to be happy. Having each other was all they needed now.

Michelle looked up, meeting Jack’s eyes in the rear-view mirror. He would hang around in the area, helping the FBI sort through the evidence, assuring Michelle that he would see every last bit through, making sure the truth came to light. Michelle was grateful for him in more words than she could describe. If it hadn’t been for him being so relentless, he might never have convinced President Taylor to let her go. She certainly owed it to Renee too.

“Thank you…” Michelle whispered.

He smiled back at them, nodding.

“Keep each other safe. That’s all you need to do now.” 

Lightly, she tapped at Tony’s face. “Come on. It’s time to go home.” She said softly.

Slowly, he sat up, never breaking contact with her, keeping his hand on her thigh to support himself.

With Jack’s help, Michelle got Tony out of the car, and up the few stairs that lead to their front door. They entered the living room, and she immediately felt a sense of ease. It was nothing like their old house in Los Angeles, but perhaps that was for the better. Perhaps, the blazing heat and incessant sunshine weren’t appropriate now. Maybe they needed the cold. Maybe they needed the change. Maybe they just needed to be in a place that made them feel secure. When the world outside was harsh, their home would keep them safe.

She noticed him pace around the house silently. His expression was unreadable. It was a lot to take in, not being in the hospital anymore but still having the threat of Wilson looming over them. And while she was sure he was at least happy to be somewhere he could call home, it would be a while before it felt as such. They didn’t have any memories here, any photos, or any kind of touches that would make the place feel like their own. It was a fresh start, which they both needed, but it still didn’t feel tangible, like they would both wake up and find themselves apart again.

His walking speed was still a little slow, but she also noticed the slight quiver in his gait. He seemed to be peering around, examining parts of the room, places where people could hide, places where people could leave or enter. There was a sense of anxiety in his expression. For as long as Michelle had known him, she had never seen him so afraid of something that he couldn't mask it beneath some kind of professional facade. But things were different now.

“Hey…what’s wrong?” Michelle gently brushed her hand against his shoulder to avoid startling him.

“Nothing. I’m fine.” His voice was still so quiet and weak. She wasn’t used to hearing it. Tony's vocal cords had been damaged from all the involuntary screaming and shouting, so sometimes it strained him even to speak at a regular volume.

Her eyes widened as she continued to watch him. He wasn’t fine. He was far from it.

“Tony, you’re shaking.” Her voice was too, and she had to take a breath to keep her composure. “Stop this, please.”

He mumbled something under his breath, and she guided him to the couch. They sat across from each other, her hands holding his, keeping them steady. His eyes were still skittishly darting around the room. She could hear his breaths, rapid and shallow.

“Y-You’re sure we’re safe here?”

His voice was so broken, so blatantly afraid, it made her heart ache.

“Yes.” She thumbed at his cheek. “We've got people guarding the house. We've got cameras. And I'm going to keep watch too. We’ll be fine, okay?”

He still seemed unconvinced, and she couldn’t even imagine how overwhelmed he was right now. In both the larger and smaller hospitals, he’d at least had consistency, a sense of routine. But now they were in unfamiliar territory. A new house. A new way of life. They didn’t have friends or family close within reach besides Jack. The underlying worry about being found or hunted down was still prominent.

“Look, you don’t…” Michelle sighed. “Have to be the strong one right now, okay? You’ve been so strong for so many years, but you don’t have to anymore. I-I’m here to help you, I’m here to take care of you, I’m here to keep you safe. All you have to do is let me.”

There was so much shame in his body language, the feeling of defeat he'd carried all these years plain in his eyes.

“We’re going to take this one day at a time, okay?” She said, cupping his cheeks in her hands. “I know it’s a lot to process, but we’re here together now, and that’s what matters.”

“It’s…It’s just so hard to believe. I don’t…I don’t feel like this is real.”

“Oh, sweetheart…” She pulled him into her embrace as he sniffled. He hadn’t opened up to her that much, other than the doctors asking him to clinically describe what he could remember of the torture to better guide his treatment. Michelle knew he’d been tormented, humiliated, completely and utterly degraded. Seeing him like this now was truly making it all sink in. “It’s all over now, you made it, we made it.”

Tony didn’t say anything but rested his head against her shoulder, eyes shut, breathing still unstable. It was just too much for him. His tolerance for change, for adjustment, for trust was still so low. Every new thing, even every familiar thing he had to reintroduce into his life was its own battle. Michelle told him she would do whatever it took to make him feel safe and to make him feel okay. She understood right now that he needed to have this moment of privacy, of vulnerability with her. Leaning back onto the couch, she let him lie comfortably, his face against her chest. It was only early afternoon, but she hushed him and let him rest again, gently giving every reassurance and affirmation she could think of. Her hands wrapped around him, almost protectively, and she fought back her own tears until she knew he was asleep. 

“We have each other now. That’s all that matters.” She whispered, brokenly, before leaning down to kiss the crown of his head.

She surveyed the house again just to be sure. Tony had fallen asleep. Despite being home for a few weeks and settling into something of a routine, Michelle still couldn't put herself at ease. He trusted her to watch out for any danger to either of them, and she intended to do just that. No matter how much Jack or the FBI reassured her, she still knew it was mostly her responsibility to ensure nobody hurt him. Or her. Michelle had to remember she would likely have enemies out there for her too, but her focus was always on Tony. He was so exhausted from constantly being on edge. In doing this, she could take some of the load off him. 

In the early days at the hospital, Jack's words served as her ethos. When Tony had been touch-and-go, she hadn’t had the energy to focus on protecting him with everything she had and avenging him. She’d had to focus on his health and supporting him in every way possible. It was such a blessing for him to wake up and see her face every day again. It had pushed him to keep going despite the agony he was in. Nonetheless, she’d been part of the shifts for guarding him while he was asleep. As much as she had background-checked the agents and as much as she did trust Jack, she just couldn’t let Tony’s life be left in the hands of others.

One night she had finally conceded. She’d stood to go patrol the hallway and nearly passed out. They had reassured her that everything would be fine, that she should get some rest. At the time, Tony had been in an induced coma as they’d been worried about some swelling in his brain. 

The gun felt heavy in her hand. The safety was on, of course, but she still had her fingers gripping the weapon tightly beside her, ready to use it if need be. Michelle could barely keep her eyes open, her body willing her with everything it had to make her sleep.

There was a slight rumble, and she was quick to jolt awake, her adrenaline, as usual, pushing her own needs aside. Her vision was slightly blurry. She could hear the rhythmic beeps of Tony's heart monitor, something that had grown comforting to her, a reminder that he was living and breathing. A figure wearing a white coat hovered over him. At first, she paid it no mind, assuming they were one of the doctors or nurses. They seemed to stay in one position for a long time, their body shielding her view of him. Michelle felt herself slowly drift off to sleep again.

Then, suddenly, the rate of his heart began to drop, the beeps slower and slower. When she opened her eyes again, the person was pressing their body weight on top of his. The tubes that were giving him oxygen were being compressed. His nose and mouth were being smothered with one of the pillows.

“No!” She shouted, her voice cracked from sleep.

The figure didn’t stop suffocating him, to her horror. She fired shakily, barely grazing the figure’s shoulder. They flinched, and Michelle noticed red hair and an unfamiliar face. The white coat aside, she certainly wasn't a hospital staff member.

A surge of energy coursed through Michelle, and she fired again, the bullet hitting the woman’s chest this time. To be sure, she fired again and again, the blood spraying across the wall behind her and onto Tony. His heart rate skyrocketed before settling back down to how it was before. 

Jack and an FBI agent burst through the door, looking at the scene in shock. The agent paled when he looked at her, and she started to shake, the gun falling beside her. Michelle sank to the ground in a torrent of shocked tears.

“Michelle, what happened?” Jack moved over, kneeling down in front of her.

Her eyes didn’t seem to leave the woman as though ensuring she was dead.

He shook her shoulders, just a little, to jolt her out of the state she was in.

“S-She tried to kill him. I-I swear. I’m not crazy.”

The sheer fear on her face meant he knew she was telling the truth. They checked the ID, finding it was fabricated. The woman’s name had been Cara Bowden, an associate of Alan Wilson. 

That day, Michelle had promised never to let her guard down again.

Not when it came to him.

She had barely walked back into their bedroom before he mumbled something abruptly. He did it again, louder, and she could tell he was distressed. 

“Hey…” Michelle said softly, putting the gun’s safety on and placing it on the side table before slowly crawling across the bed.

He sat upright in a flash, screaming and gasping hoarsely. His chest was heaving, he was sweating, and his eyes were wet with tears.

Kneeling in front of him, she repeated his name a few more times, trying to get him to gain awareness of where he was. His gaze met hers. He still couldn’t get ahold of his breathing. It was too rapid, too shaky for him to manage.

“Deep breaths, you’re with me, you’re okay…” She whispered, holding his arms and feeling them tremble.

It took him several minutes, but eventually, he settled. Tears stung her eyes. It still scared and upset her so much to watch him react so viscerally. He blinked his eyes open, and the terror there made her heart ache.

“Okay?” Michelle thumbed at his cheek, trying to keep her expression level.

He nodded weakly before lying back down. Michelle got into bed, rolling to face him while still giving him some breathing room. 

What Michelle had said to him the first day they had come home was still stuck in Tony's mind. It was hard for him to let his guard down. It was hard for him to show so much vulnerability, to admit that he was terrified. It wasn’t that she had ever expected him to be some kind of full-time protector in their relationship, but he was used to putting her needs over his. It simply came with falling in love with her, not that he just wanted to keep her safe, but that it was his responsibility. Now, it was the other way around and he didn’t know how to handle it. He didn’t know how to feel. There was still so much remnant shame from the years of torture. There were still so many voices inside of him saying he was weak, worthless, pathetic. But, at this moment, he let her voice ring clear over the others. He let her words echo in his mind. She had told him to let go. She had told him to let her take care of him. He might be out of the hospital, out of a situation that required more intense, professional care, but that didn’t mean he didn’t need to be taken care of.

So slowly, he inched over, pressing his face into the crook of her neck. His arms gripped her waist tightly as though making sure he wasn’t alone, that she was real, that she wasn’t going to disappear. Michelle could feel that his heart was still racing. He let out a muffled sob, and she could feel dampness forming on her skin. 

“I-It just wouldn’t stop.” He choked.

“I’m here…” She sniffled. “It’s over now, I’m here…”

Moving up the bed, she let him be nestled in her arms, let him cry out whatever he needed to right now. Her hands made small circles on his scarred back, and to her relief, he fell back asleep not long after, not tensing like usual.

It had taken a while to get to this point. The first time she’d seen the extent of the scars on his back had been by accident and given the first indication of just how horribly Wilson’s people had treated him.

She returned to his room, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed facing away. The back of the hospital gown was translucent under the downlights, and she covered her mouth with her hand as she saw the series of thick, puckered marks on his back. She had barely seen the wounds on his front since most of them had been covered by bandages, but she was yet to see these. They covered every inch of him from what she could see, with a handful of patches of pale skin between them. A lump formed in her throat, and she felt a familiar, intense urge to hunt down every single person who had ever laid a hand on him and make them suffer. But lately, that urge was often replaced with a desire to protect Tony, to take care of him, to be there for him, and revel in the fact that he was here beside her.

Michelle took a couple of steps forward, and the scars looked even more painful up close.

“Oh my God, sweetheart.” She whispered. 

His hand went to cover where he could feel the cold air on his exposed skin. She tentatively reached out to rub his back, realising that he was probably upset about her seeing them and wanted to comfort him. Michelle gasped when he grabbed her wrist, and his shoulders rolled forward to avoid her touching him.

“Don’t.” He tried to sound firm, but his voice broke even as he uttered that simple word. Michelle saw his body start to shake. “Just…just don’t. Please.”

“Okay…okay….” She said, moving her hand away and walking in front of him. “I’m so sorry.” 

Kneeling down, she pressed her forehead against his. 

“You are the bravest person that I’ve ever known. I’m proud of you.” Michelle said quietly, leaning into him. “I’m so, so, proud of you.”

Michelle didn’t sleep the rest of the night, simply holding him and willing him to be okay, to feel safe. It was a habit she’d formed, just silently watching him while he slept. After all, it wasn't like she did. She was always either on guard or having nightmares of her own that she desperately tried to keep quiet. Usually, it was the moment she found him, except in her dreams, he didn’t wake up. Sometimes, it was worse. 

She turned around to deliver the final blow, not feeling a shred of remorse. Having done all of this enough times now, it didn’t bother her the way it used to. As the knife drove into his chest, to her horror, the man’s face contorted into Tony’s, the screams suddenly familiar.

“No…no…no!” Michelle screamed, waking up with a jolt.

He took her in his arms, hushing her. The noise had startled him, but seeing her so distraught had overridden his own panic. “It’s okay, Michelle.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-” She hiccuped.

“I know you didn’t mean to wake me. It’s okay, sweetheart.”

Michelle cried harder into his chest, gripping the fabric of his shirt.

That wasn’t what she meant, but he wouldn’t know. 

It only reminded her that she needed to tell him soon before her guilt ate her alive.

In the morning, neither of them opted to move for a while, instead just looking into each other’s eyes, grounding themselves in each other’s presence.

“Thank you…” Tony said softly. “I-I didn’t realise how much I needed that. W-What you said the other day, I…I really needed to hear that too. I need you.” His voice fell to a mumble. She strained a little to hear him, even though he was just inches away. “I just…I hate that you have to take care of me like this. I hate that I’m doing this to you.”

She shook her head, sniffling, pressing her lips to his forehead. “You’re not ‘doing’ anything to me. I don’t care about any of that, Tony. To me…it’s a blessing that I get to wake up next to you, that I can hear you breathing, and that you’re by my side. So if it means a little more love and care, then that’s fine by me.”

Tony lifted a shoulder, but Michelle felt him smile against her as he tugged her closer. 

“I love you.” He mumbled.

“I love you too.”

Michelle heard him mumble in his sleep again and did what she usually did, quietly hush him and stroke his arm. But the mumbles grew louder, more aggressive. Again she tried to reassure him, tried to tell him that it was just a dream, that he was okay, that he wasn’t there, but to no avail. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he sat up, grunting, and used one of his hands to push her down by the throat. Michelle spluttered, trying to push him away, trying to say his name, trying to wake him up.

“I told you I don’t fucking know!” He roared, eyes opening.

The angry scowl on his face quickly faded when he found himself staring not at the people from his dream but, rather, at his terrified wife gasping for air. She used the relaxing of his grip as an opportunity to move his body weight off of her, still coughing a little. Tony panted nervously, horrifically realising what had just happened.

“It’s fine.” She took in another breath, trying to harden her voice. “You didn’t hurt me. I know you didn’t mean to. It’s okay.”

There was a red mark in the shape of a hand on her neck, and he started to feel sick.

He shook his head, looking incredibly pale as he ran to their ensuite, shutting the door behind him and locking it. Michelle followed him, knocking and calling out. She heard him vomit, heard him breathe shakily, heard him curse at himself.

“Tony, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.”

His mind continued to race. The image of the red mark still burned in his mind. He started to freak out and wonder whether this had happened before. She seemed far too prepared, almost used to it. Was she keeping it from him? Because she felt sorry for him, she was letting him hurt her?

“How many times has this happened before?”

She squeezed her eyes shut. “I…” 

“Michelle.” He said firmly.

She couldn't lie to him. “A….a couple of times. But you didn’t wake up, and I got you to stop; it’s not a big deal.”

His eyes widened, voice even more worried. “Not a big deal? Michelle, I’m hurting you. That’s not okay!”

“You didn’t even know you were doing it. I know you would never hurt me, Tony-”

“Stop it! Stop treating me like-“

“Like what? Like you need help? Like you need someone to take care of you? I’m not doing this out of pity, I’m doing this because I love you, for God’s sake.” Her voice cracked. “Why can’t you believe that? Why won’t you just let me be here for you?“

“Because I don’t deserve it!” 

She felt a pang in her chest. Was that really how Tony still saw it? That it was all for pity, that he wasn’t supposed to have survived, that he was supposed to have done the ‘honourable’ thing and ended his life before they could get his information out of him?

"You do," Michelle said, voice cracking a little. She slowly swung her head from side to side as tears slid down her face. 

He opened up, and she went to reassure him again, but he simply brushed past her, ignoring every call of his name, and walked out of their bedroom towards the front of the house. Tony flung the door open, pushing past the FBI agents, and she felt frozen in place. A few seconds later, she heard the engine of a car start. Part of her wanted to chase after him, part of her wanted to hold him, wanted, no needed, to sit there and tell him exactly how she felt and that she would never think less of him for needing her. Michelle went to grab the phone but stopped herself. She didn't want to talk to him without seeing him. For now, she would give him space. As she sunk to the floor, she felt a clutch in her chest when she thought about the fact that he was probably crying too.

The more time passed, the more she started to spiral about where he could have gone and what could have happened. She terrified herself with thoughts of him getting into an accident or worse, getting himself into a perfect target zone for Wilson’s people. She also had to admit that somewhere in her mind, she was also worrying about him going far enough to set off the alert in the tracking chip and scaring him even more with the reality of their situation. One of the FBI agents asked her if they should start sending out people looking for him, but she knew that would likely make him feel worse. At some point, she couldn’t take it anymore, so she picked up her phone and called Jack, hoping maybe he'd gone to his house to talk. 

He picked up before the second ring could even finish.

“P-Please tell me he’s with you.” She asked worriedly.

“Yeah…” He replied, hearing her sigh through the phone. “Tony’s here, Michelle.”

“Is he okay?”

Jack looked over to where Tony was sitting on his couch, looking down into his lap with clasped hands. He’d knocked on his door saying he needed to talk, and Jack had let him in. Tony had told him about what had happened, and he’d tried his best to comfort him. But he knew that what Tony needed most of all was Michelle’s reassurance, which, of course, he knew she was giving, but Tony needed to be receptive to it. 

“He’s fine. He just…wanted to talk.”

Michelle could understand that. She was just grateful that Tony had decided to talk to someone about it instead of doing something he might regret.

“I-I’ll be there soon if that’s okay. If you’re still talking to him, I can wait.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Come down.”

As Jack hung up, he turned to face Tony again.

“You scared the shit out of her.” He said plainly. 

Tony sighed, shaking his head.

Jack had somewhat been anticipating this, knowing that Tony hadn’t been settling in very well to being home. Michelle had done all she could to try and ease Tony’s worries, even at her own expense, but he knew the truth now.

Michelle stood on her toes to move the box on top of the cupboard. Her shirt lifted slightly, and Jack noticed a large bruise on her waist. She quickly pulled the fabric back down over it as though wanting to make sure he couldn't see it. But it was too late. He grabbed her hand, moving the shirt back up and further to show the expanse of purple skin.

“I fell.” She said, without making eye contact.

He moved to face her, pushing her back against the wall. “Did he do this to you?”

“Y-Yes, but you don’t understand-”

Jack shook his head, hardening his voice and forcing her to look at him. “Michelle, I know Tony’s been through hell, but that does not give him the excuse to-”

She hushed him. “He didn’t know.”

“What?” He said, furrowing his brow.

Michelle sighed. “He was asleep. He had a nightmare, and he hit me while he was moving around. But I didn’t wake him, because he’s barely slept in days, and it would break his heart.’ She sniffled, sounding incredibly upset. “So he doesn’t know, and I’d like to keep it that way. I’m already worried he’s hiding how he feels and what he needs, I don’t need to make it worse.”

“Okay…” Jack let out a breath. “Okay. But please promise me that if he does — and I’m not saying that he would — but if he does hurt you intentionally, you’ll tell me.”

She was horrified by the mere thought but understood his concern. “I promise.”

Within a few minutes, Michelle arrived at his front door, knocking quietly. Jack moved aside as he opened up, and in two short steps, she crossed the room, hugging Tony tightly where he stood. When she pulled back, she saw that his eyes were bloodshot, as expected. There was so much shame, so much sorrow coming from him.

“I’m sorry.” He mumbled into her shoulder.

“Let’s just go home, okay?” She whispered.

Tony nodded.

Thanking Jack once again, they did as she said, driving their own cars back into their garage. Silently, they walked back into their bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking away from her. She sat cross-legged in front of him.

“Can you please look at me, sweetheart?” She beseeched gently.

“I-I told myself I would never be like this. I never wanted to be one of those guys that uses what they’ve been through as an excuse to treat their wives like shit. I can’t be that Michelle, I can’t do that to you-”

“Sweetheart, that’s not what this is,” Michelle said softly, thumbing at his cheek. “The fact that you’re so upset about it is proof that you’re not like that. You’ll never be like that, okay? I promise.”

Tony trapped her hand against his cheek, sighing as he leaned into it.

“Look at me.” She said, taking his other cheek in her hand. He didn’t budge. Gently, she pivoted his face. “Look at me.” She repeated until his eyes eventually met hers.“I love you with all of my heart, no matter what.” The words came out slowly, intentionally.

He said nothing for a while and still tried to keep his head turned away from her. “You shouldn’t have to keep doing this. You deserve better than this. Not some pathetic husband who’s too much of a coward to talk to you, who you have to take care of all the time, who you’re worried sick about twenty-four seven.”

She let out a breath, trying not to let her frustration show. She hated the way he beat himself up like this. She understood why, but it just hurt her so much to hear him talk about himself like that.

“If it were the other way around…would you think I was weak? Would you let me say those things about myself? You wouldn’t, would you?”

His shoulders lifted slightly.

“So stop.”

“It’s…different.”

“Why?”

Michelle watched his jaw twitch, watched him try to articulate himself. “It just is. You didn’t sign up for this. It’s not fair.”

“Do you honestly think I see it that way?”

He said nothing.

Slowly, she moved her hand to the top of his head, running her fingers through his hair until she reached the back of his neck. “Because I’ll tell you what I see. I see a man who’s been through far too much pain and suffering, more than any one person should ever have to go through, and for reasons I can’t fully understand, he’s hurting himself more, he’s punishing himself for something that wasn’t his fault.” 

She felt tears well in her eyes and blinked them away. 

“I see a man who’s trying so hard every single day to heal, to move on, and he thinks I don’t see it, but I do, honest to God, I do. But more than anything,” Michelle took a shuddering breath, tilting his head up, so he couldn’t keep looking away from her. “I see the man I love, the man I married, and I can see that he’s hurt, and all I want to do is take care of him like I promised I would. And I want him to understand that there is no deadline on that, that he can take as long as he needs to heal, and that I will never love him any less because of it.”

He looked at her for what felt like forever before his lips met hers softly. She helped him take off his sweater, revealing his bare, scarred chest and back. Kneeling on the bed, she met his eyes in the mirror. He sighed as she kissed his neck, splaying her hands across his stomach. Michelle took the time to kiss the marks, both new and old, on his shoulders and the middle of his back, making her movements distinct. She moved to his front, continuing to press her lips to each scar, sucking softly and tracing the longer ones with her tongue. 

He was already on the verge of tears again, shaking his head. Tony pulled her up towards him and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing unsteadily. She sniffled, letting him lean against her, telling him again and again that it was okay, that she loved him, that she could never leave him, that she wasn’t scared of him, that she loved him. 

Michelle just prayed that he would believe her.

Jack stood at the doorway, groceries in hand. He barely knocked once before Michelle opened the door, gratitude evident on her face. They’d been in their new place for nearly two months now, still waiting for some kind of update that things were settling, that Alan Wilson’s people were being found. There wasn’t much of a change, they were still sifting through the mountains of evidence from over the years, but there hadn’t been any activity of concern.

“Hey…” She said quietly, quickly ushering Jack in. It was late. Tony was already asleep by the looks of it. Together, they put the food away, and Jack informed her that the FBI’s investigation was proceeding well. It didn’t take long for him to notice how exhausted she looked. There were staples in their cupboard, but Jack knew that Michelle had spent all her time and energy making sure Tony was okay and very little on herself. He told her to sit down, made her a cup of tea and a sandwich, and then joined her. She hardly took a bite before swiftly getting up and walking around the house almost robotically, checking doors and windows, checking that he was still asleep.

Gently, he guided her back to the table, making sure she finished the food or at least ate most of it.

“How is he?”

Michelle bit her lip before slumping her shoulders and looking to their room. “Scared.” She sighed. “Terrified. Tony…Tony still wakes up screaming in the middle of the night. He’s paranoid about everything. A-And I can’t blame him. I am too. I just try not to show it in front of him because if he realises I’m just as worried, it’ll destroy him.”

His face softened.

“T-They broke him, Jack.” She took in a shuddering breath. “I...I thought being home would be good for him. But he doesn’t seem to be doing any better. I-I’ve never seen him so afraid before. He’s on his feet. He’s okay in that sense, but…” She sniffled. “It’s like he’s not even himself. I…I just don’t know what to do anymore. He’s shutting me out. I feel so useless, like no matter what I do or say, I’m making things worse.” Michelle put a hand over her mouth to stifle the sob that escaped her. Her body was shaking as though she’d been keeping it all in, so desperate to talk to somebody about it or even just to say it aloud, but unable to because she didn’t want him to know how she felt.

“Oh, Michelle…” He passed her the box of tissues nearby, grabbing one of her hands on the table.

“A-And he still doesn’t really know why we’re here. He knows it’s for his protection, but he doesn’t know anything about me.” Her voice cracked and tears started to stream down her face. “He doesn’t know what I’ve done. He doesn’t have a clue. And I don’t know how I’m going to tell him.”

Jack sighed. The fierce defiance she’d had when he’d first reunited with her had dissipated completely. It wasn’t that Michelle regretted what she had done. She wasn’t the kind of person to go back on her principles and ignore that it had been for the greater good. But Tony’s judgement and opinion of her behaviour was something she’d never had to face until now, something she’d never thought she’d have to face.

“You’ll know when the right time is to tell him.”

She shrugged. “The longer I keep it, the worse it’ll be. The last thing I want to do is to give Tony a reason not to trust me. He’s already so insecure about everything else.”’

It was one of those nights where both of them were lying wide awake, simply listening to the sounds of their breathing. Despite how much they’d been told they were safe here, they were both still far too wired with apprehension and distrust to truly let themselves relax.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted.

Michelle sat up on one elbow to look at him, furrowing her brow. “Sorry? For what?”

When he turned to face her, she saw his desolate expression. “The…the day I went to prison, I was so bad to you.” He took in a shuddering breath, his voice shaking. “I had kept the Salazar op from you. I-I kept biting your head off even though you were trying to help, then you went to the hotel, and then…everything happened, and I never-”

It bewildered her that he still thought about that day in so much detail. She could barely remember the tension from that day simply because it’d been replaced with a much stronger association of fear. So to think that he still held the memory so strongly made her wonder what else he was agonising over deep down.

“Sweetheart, don’t. It’s okay.” She caressed his cheek with her hand, shaking her head. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does matter.” He implored. “I…I remember promising myself that when you got the chance to visit me in prison, I would apologise to you. A-And I never let go of that.”

She pulled him closer, hating that he’d carried guilt over that day for so long, almost in disbelief that he still chose to focus on that now when far worse things had happened to him since.

“I-I thought I deserved everything that happened to me after that.”

Michelle hushed him. “You didn’t deserve any of it. You’re a good person with a good heart, Tony. All that matters is that you’re here.” She said, kissing his forehead. “Okay?”

Jack didn’t know what to say to that, simply because he didn’t know how Tony would feel. Maybe Jack knew the old Tony, but not this one. Not the Tony who’d been beaten and tortured relentlessly for eight years and reduced to a shell of his former self. His attitude towards violence may have changed completely. Did he wish revenge or equal treatment on the people who’d done this to him? Or had it changed him to be kinder, softer, to not want that kind of pain on anyone? It wasn’t exactly a casual conversation topic. Even in the hospital, it had been hard for Tony to speak. The FBI had had to debrief him in several instalments, either because he was too exhausted to talk for long periods or because he didn’t remember, couldn’t remember without trembling and shutting down.

Michelle stood and walked over to his room once again. Her face screwed up in pain.

“He’s going to hate me…” She whispered gravely. “He’s going to think I’m no better than them. He’s going to hate me…”

Jack turned her to face him, letting her cries be muffled by his shoulder. He hushed her slowly, moving her back to the couch so they wouldn’t wake him.

“He’ll never want to look me in the eye again. H-He’s going to leave me.” She said fearfully. “A-And I’ll lose him forever because I’ll have to go to prison.”

“Maybe you don’t know how exactly he’ll react, but what I know is that Tony could never hate you. You’ve been apart for eight years, Michelle. You’re both grieving, you're both in pain, you're both just trying to make sense of the world.” Jack let out a breath. “He might not get it at first. Maybe he’ll be upset, maybe he’ll be confused. But the fact that he loves you means he’s going to try and understand. He’s going to try and see things from your point of view. You’re one of the only people he trusts right now, and regardless of what he finds out, I don’t think he can afford to push you away. Because the fact is he needs you, and he knows that.”

“I hope you’re right…”

They sat there in silence for a while, listening to the sounds of their breathing, just trying to find some peace, but it wasn’t long before she pulled away from his grip, doing her routine check again. Jack grabbed her arm as she stood up, stilling it. She furrowed her brow when she looked back at him.

“You need to sleep. You can’t expect to keep having the energy to care for him without taking care of yourself too. Let me spend a few nights. I’ll keep watch. You just stay with him.”

Michelle wobbled a little on her feet and ran a tired hand over her face before conceding and thanking him. She told him a few things like where the other FBI agents usually checked, what the alarm codes were, where some spare rounds and guns were kept, should he need them. But, to Jack’s relief, she was okay to let him protect them. The incident at the hospital came to mind. It had shaken her to her very core and amplified the existing desire to protect Tony tenfold. Jack took some of the blame for that, so to be here for them now meant everything to him.

He watched her settle into bed next to him. Tony shuffled over, mumbling something quiet, but she was quick to tell him to go back to sleep. Jack felt a clutch in his chest as Tony moved to be enveloped by Michelle’s arms, both of their eyes shutting within seconds.

Over the rest of the night and well into the morning, he kept watch, not letting anything distract him, knowing that two people he cared about dearly were relying on him to do this.

And for the first time in eight years, Jack felt the guilt he had held over Tony’s imprisonment and everything that had come as a result ease in his chest.

The two beams of light from the front of the car illuminated the street as they pulled up to the house. Tony’s hand rested on her thigh as she parked on the curb. She squeezed it lightly before moving to unlock the doors. Michelle took in the fact that he was smiling and couldn’t help but smile back. They had gone out for dinner for the first time since being placed in Witness Protection, and it had served as a nostalgic reminder to both of them of how simple things used to be. As they walked to the door, she noticed how quiet it was. More than usual. Immediately, she started trying to deduce why. She didn’t want to assume the worst. And both of them felt so happy right now, so she didn’t want to kill it with her over-worrying.

But her smile quickly faded when she became aware of the absence of the two guards that usually stood around the front of the house.

She placed her hand on Tony’s waist to stop him from walking further.

"Stay here," Michelle muttered before grabbing her gun and flashlight.

When he didn’t respond, she turned to look at him, seeing a familiar look of anxiety on his face.

“T-They’re probably at the back. Just let me check.” She said in an attempt to reassure him.

“Michelle, I’m-”

“Get back in the car, and lock the doors,” Michelle said with a hardened voice. 

Tony obliged silently. She moved along the siding of the house to find the gate ajar, and one agent collapsed in the bushes. He was bleeding from his head. Bending down, she could hear him take laboured breaths. Michelle helped him up.

“What happened?”

“It…” He puffed. “It was Lyons. T-There were too many of them.”

Her eyes widened. Marshall Lyons was one of Wilson’s associates. He hadn’t been involved significantly in Tony’s torture, so he’d gotten off with a light sentence. But that certainly didn’t mean he couldn't promote himself to do what Wilson had started, or worse, want to silence Tony in case he had anything more incriminating to share. Arrests were still being made. Every new piece of information Tony remembered often had dire consequences for those even remotely connected to Wilson. It helped the case tremendously but didn’t make them feel any safer.

“Where’d he go?” She asked, pulling at his shirt to keep him awake.

“T-Towards the back.”

Michelle quickly helped him to staunch the bleeding on his head by passing him her jacket. She then slid his radio out from his back pocket to notify the FBI, keeping her voice quiet. 

She walked closer to the corner that led into the backyard, finding the grass littered with bodies of FBI agents and mercenaries alike. Most of them looked like they had been garrotted or stabbed. This was a professional job. Michelle paused, peeking around the corner to find Lyons trying to work at the back door lock. It was heavily reinforced. There was no way he would be able to do it. But it was clear his goal was to lie in wait for them.

“Freeze,” Michelle called, raising her gun with the flashlight crossed over it. “Hands up. Now.”

He moved to draw his weapon, but she was quicker, firing at his hip, just below the outline of the kevlar vest underneath his clothes. Lyons cried out in pain, collapsing to the ground. Michelle walked over to him, kicking his gun away. She yanked him up by the shirt and slammed his head against the wall.

“Who sent you?” She demanded.

Lyons said nothing, so she dug her knee into where she had shot him. He howled.

“Who the hell sent you?”

“N-Nobody. Nobody!”

Michelle shoved the gun's muzzle under his chin, forcing him to tilt his head up.

“If you are keeping something from me, and you don’t think I’ll find a way to make you talk, you are very mistaken.” She gritted through her teeth, slowly pressing into his wound again. “Believe me when I say that shooting you again is the nicest thing I can do.”

“I-I mean it. I swear!” He yelped. “I just wanted to make sure he didn’t connect me to anything else.”

“Just you?”

He nodded fervidly. 

“You sure?” Michelle pushed on his wound one last time, keeping the gun directed at his chin.

“Just me. It was just me.”

She squeezed her eyes shut when she felt a flashlight shine straight into her face. The beam was unsteady as though its owner's hand was trembling.

“Michelle?” A painfully recognisable voice called from beside her. 

Turning to face him, she saw Tony staring directly at her with some mix of disgust and confusion, his chest heaving. Michelle wondered how long he had been standing there and felt her stomach sink. Regardless of what he had heard, she was scowling whilst holding a man at gunpoint and had blood all over her. All the colour had drained from his face. He looked terrified, and she instinctively went to walk forward to comfort him, letting Lyons drop beside her. But to her worry, he took a step back, and the fear on his face only seemed to grow. 

“Tony...”

He bolted around the corner, and by the time she caught up with him, she heard tyres screech as he drove away. She called out to him, apologising and begging him to come back. Her knees were ready to give out. But it was too late. Michelle had let Tony see a side of her that she had promised herself he would never see. He would never look her in the eye again. He'd looked concerned when she'd practically ordered him back to the car before. But what she just saw was downright horror in his expression. Michelle was sure she would never be able to erase it from her memory.

There was no going back now. 

Nothing would ever be the same between them again. 

Because how would she ever be able to comfort him again when she had become the very thing he was afraid of? 

When Jack arrived he realised, with worry, that he was the first one there. Renee had called him about an alert regarding Tony and Michelle's house. But given their respective distances, it did make sense. He saw no sign of either of them and felt his heart race. Their car wasn’t at the curb, so he wondered if they were even home. That couldn’t be right, though. Renee had said Michelle had contacted the FBI about some kind of ambush.

“D-Dessler secured the hostile and went inside.” One agent called, sitting against the siding and pressing something to his head.

Jack raced towards him.

“Where’s Tony?”

He shrugged slightly. “He…he left.”

His brow furrowed. Left?

This made no sense to him. They rarely spent time apart these days. And especially not if they were in danger. Jack opened the front door of the house, calling out for them. He could hear someone crying quietly and mumbling in frustration. The kitchen was the only area where the light was on. Jack felt a horrific sense of deja vu as he entered the kitchen to find Michelle sitting against the cabinet with her knees to her chest, a bottle of pills next to her, and the cupboards in disarray.

“Hey…hey…no, no, no, Michelle. Don’t do this.” He said, frantically bending down in front of her.

Her hands shook so much that she couldn’t open the child-proof lock on the container. Maybe it wasn't too late. Judging by the label, they were Tony’s painkillers. He pried the bottle from her hands, and she feebly tried to reach for it.

“You haven’t taken any.” He uttered.

She let out a sob, shaking her head.

Jack felt a clutch of relief for her. But he knew whatever had driven her to do this was hurting her. And he knew, without a doubt, it was to do with Tony.

“What happened?”

“H-He saw me.” 

“Who? Who saw you?”

Michelle took in a shuddering breath, speaking brokenly. “T-Tony saw me hurt the man who came after us. I-I scared him, Jack. And now he’s gone.”

He sighed, wondering where Tony could be. At the same time, the FBI could track him when they got here. They would need Michelle's help. So for both of their sakes, he had to be there for Michelle. 

“Tell me how long it’s been.”

Her bottom lip was wobbling.

“I’ve been where you are, and to this day, I know exactly how long it’s been since I’ve shot up.” He said gently. “So tell me how long it’s been for you since you’ve done this.”

“Six…” She took in a breath. “Nearly six years.”

“You know Chloe would be so proud of you for that. But if I give you these now, she'll be upset with both of us.” He teared up himself now. The more he looked at Michelle, the more he saw that time of his life when he was so deeply pained by what he’d done that numbing himself had been his only escape. And he knew how far Michelle had come from that place. He didn’t want her to go back. He smiled wetly. “She’ll come all the way from LA to kick your ass and tell you you're better than this, so don’t make her.”

She laughed weakly through her tears. Michelle reached for the container one last time, and he stilled, not resisting, giving her a chance to take it. Her fingers were trembling, her breathing sharp and fast. He watched her muster her courage and ultimately make the decision. She didn’t want them. She knew better than that. And he was so happy for her. 

“Okay…” Michelle breathed, moving her hand away. He picked up the bottle and put it on the kitchen counter. Jack then bent down again to hug her.

“You did the right thing.” He said earnestly, feeling her hands grip him tightly. “You made the right choice.”

Sirens sounded now, and Jack heard familiar voices yell out. Footsteps echoed throughout the house, and Renee walked into the kitchen where they were, her face full of concern.

“Where’s Almeida?”

Jack pulled back a little to face Renee. The question was likely directed at Michelle, but she didn’t respond, so Renee made eye contact with him. 

“He drove off as soon as the attack happened.”

“What? Why didn’t they go together?”

Michelle let out a whimper, and Renee’s expression softened. 

“I’ll…” Jack said. “I’ll explain. Just give us a minute.”

He picked Michelle up and carried her over to the couch. She sat with her elbows on her knees, still visibly quivering. Jack grabbed a blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders. He also passed her a box of tissues, kneeling before her and wiping a tear from her eye.

“We’ll find him, Michelle.” He said softly.

Jack walked back over to where Renee was and began to explain what had happened, or at least, what he could infer had happened. She went to call out a search within a ten-mile radius, but before she could do so they heard Tony calling out for Michelle, to their immense relief. Michelle’s head perked up, and relief mixed in with the shame on her face. From his understanding, she hadn’t told Tony anything about what she had done while he was considered dead. And she deserved to be able to do that the way she wanted. Jack ran out the front door, stopping Tony in his tracks. 

“Where is she? Is she okay?” He asked, trying to push past him.

“Tony, just wait-”

“Michelle!” He called again, and Jack stood directly in front of him.

Tony looked at him both confused and concerned.

“What’s going on? Why won’t you let me see her?”

He let out a breath. He would have to tell him something, but he would spare the gory details where possible. Jack couldn’t lie to him, one, because he just couldn’t, and two, because he knew Tony was paranoid about who he could trust, and he was one of the few people he did without fail. He wouldn’t dare break it.

“She just came close to breaking six years of sobriety, Tony. She needs a minute.” Jack said quietly, so nobody else would hear them.

Tony gaped at him.

“S…Sobriety?”

Placing a hand on his shoulder, he directed him to the sidewalk.

“What…what are you saying, Jack?”

“It’s not my place to tell you the details. But what you need to understand is that Michelle was in a very dark place while you were gone. And even though I understand you ran off just now because you were scared, for Michelle, that is her worst nightmare. Not losing you, but you being afraid of her.” 

Tony gave him a bewildered look. “What do you mean?”

He sighed. “Again, it’s not my place. But you need to understand how serious this is. When you were touch-and-go in the hospital, she thought about using again but went to the counsellor and asked me to keep an eye on her. And she pulled through. But this time, she was close, Tony. Very close.”

He ran a hand through his hair, looking immensely guilty and cursing under his breath.

“She’s been through a lot. And she made a lot of good out of it all. But she’s been hurting for a long time. She still is. And she’ll explain it to you when she’s ready. But right now, she needs you.”

“I…I was just trying to go see you. I didn’t want to upset Michelle more by reacting badly in front of her, but you were already gone.”

“The best thing you can do right now is to show her that you’re okay and that you’re not scared. Even if you still are.”

“O-Okay.” He nodded in understanding. “Okay.”

Jack led Tony back into the living room where Michelle was sitting. Renee was next to her on the couch, comforting her.

“Sweetheart?” 

She looked up at Tony and didn’t take her eyes off him as he sat down cross-legged in front of her and let her collapse into his arms. Michelle apologised croakily, and he said he was sorry too.

“You were just trying to protect me.” He murmured as she cried. “I know that’s all you were trying to do.”

Renee moved away to where Jack stood to give them some privacy.

“We’ll double the protection on the house, just in case. They’ve stabilised Lyons, but from what it sounds like, he was just trying to cover his ass, so hopefully…” She bit her lip. “Hopefully this doesn’t happen again.”

“Keep me updated,” Jack said.

She nodded. “I will.” Briefly, she turned her head to look at where Tony and Michelle were. “She’s going to have to tell him everything now.”

“Yeah.” He agreed. “Let’s just hope he thinks before he acts when she does.”

It was well after midnight by the time Jack and the FBI cleaned up and reassigned new agents to the house. Once everything was set, she and Tony got into bed, facing away from each other. They'd barely interacted over the last few hours. What was there to say?

“By the way…” Michelle said, her voice hoarse. “Did Jack tell you where he moved your painkillers?”

“Yeah.”

While Michelle hoped she wouldn’t be tempted to use them again, it helped to know that even if she wanted to, she would have to search hard enough for them that by the time she found them, she probably would have talked herself out of it.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked quietly. “That you were using? I…I would have hidden my medication earlier if I’d known.”

“Because I didn’t want to worry you, and I didn’t think it would be a problem.” She shrugged. “I would never let my weakness interfere with taking care of you.”

“Michelle, it’s not a weakness-“ He said gently, but she was already at her limit.

“N-Not now. Please. I can’t do this now.”

“Okay…” He said, barely above a whisper, letting them both sleep.

The next few days practically went by in silence. There was an unbearable tension between them. They needed to talk about it, but it seemed neither knew how to make the first move, how to approach it. Michelle felt like if she started talking, she wouldn’t stop and that the pain from all those years without him would override his valid fear and insecurities. She didn’t want to make this about her. At the same time, how was it not about her? Her actions had scared him. They needed to talk about it. But she didn’t regret what she did. If God forbid, something like that happened again, she wouldn’t hold back. In fact, she wasn’t sure if she could in such a situation. Her desire to protect him was so deep it overrode every sane instinct she had.

And she had the feeling that that was the precise thing that was scaring Tony. Not just seeing her do it once, but knowing that he might have to see her do something like that again.

He woke up in the middle of the third night, panting and drenched in sweat. She was already awake, having heard him toss and turn fretfully. Without even thinking, she reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away, sitting up and placing his feet on the side of the floor with his back to her. It upset her, but it at least meant he couldn’t see that she was on the verge of tears.

“Another bad dream?” She asked for the sake of conversation, feeling like the least she could do was talk to him.

Tony didn’t respond, and Michelle noticed he was gripping the sheets beneath his fingers tightly. He didn't turn around to look at her, his shoulders were hunched, and she knew not to touch him again. It had been a while since he had reacted this viscerally. Every nightmare was different. Each one presented its own reactions, sometimes anger, sometimes a desperate need to feel safe, sometimes shame, sometimes a need for space. But through each and every one, he would try his hardest to communicate what he needed, and she would ask him questions to try and understand. Tony had never iced her out like this before. Sometimes he was a little dissociated for a moment. But he had never consciously ignored her like this except the time when he had hurt her in his sleep and woken up.

“What was it, Tony? T-Talk to me. Please.”

Again, he didn’t answer her question, which worried her further. Usually, the nightmare was a twisted version of a memory from when he was held captive. From both his explanations and the FBI, she had come to learn the names and faces of a few, what each one had tended to do to him. Sometimes it was the night he was beaten up and drugged at the prison, the night that had started everything. But whatever it was, Tony usually told her, and she used that to help reassure him that whoever had been hurting him in his dreams was either dead or incarcerated.

So why wasn’t he talking to her this time?

It then dawned on her that his silence could only mean that whoever had hurt him in his dream was someone she couldn’t reassure him about.

“I-It was me, wasn’t it?” She asked in a small voice. “You dreamt that I hurt you the way Wilson’s people did.”

He sniffled and tipped his head forward in acknowledgement slightly. There was nothing more she wanted to do than hug him and tell him a thousand times over that she would sooner die than hurt him on purpose. But she resisted that urge because she knew that that wasn’t what he needed right now. It was a sign that they couldn’t put off talking about the other night, which she knew was a conversation that would inevitably lead to her explaining what exactly she’d done in the eight years they’d spent apart. Right now though, they couldn’t have that conversation. Right now, she needed to respect what he wanted. And she would do just that.

Michelle got up, fighting back her tears and trying to sound understanding.

“I’ll…I’ll go sleep on the couch, okay?”

Judging by the fact that he made no move to stop her, she knew it was what he wanted, even if he couldn’t bear to utter it aloud. She unfolded the sofa bed with shaking hands, hating the thought of him being alone when he was like this. But when she got under the blanket, curling into a ball, she realised just how much she hated it too. It had been a long time since she’d slept alone, and while they were in the same house, while if she concentrated enough, she could hear him breathing in the other room, she still felt lonely. Michelle placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, hoping that he wouldn’t hear them, hoping that he wouldn’t think he was wrong to feel the way he was.

Because the fact was, she didn’t blame him at all.

She eventually fell asleep, waking to the sound and smell of him cooking breakfast sometime mid-morning. Before she could even decide whether to say anything, he walked over to where she was sitting, passing her a plate of pancakes. She looked at him, trying to gauge his expression, and noticed he looked quite tired. But despite everything he had been kind enough to make her breakfast, so hopefully, he was at least feeling somewhat better. Michelle realised she must have been staring at him for quite some time because he just chuckled.

“What?”

“I don’t know.” She said flatly. “I’m the one who caused all of this, but you’re the one making me breakfast in bed.”

The corners of his lips upturned slightly.

“Did you sleep okay?”

She lifted a shoulder, astounded that he was bothering to ask about her when he had no need to. “Not really. I was too busy worrying about you.”

Ever since the attack on their house, Michelle had felt an intense need to give Tony more details than usual. Not that she generally made a habit of keeping things from him, but the fact was, everything she had done in the time when he was gone was a huge secret. So the least she could do was be open and honest about the other things where possible. 

“I’m okay, Michelle. It was a dream.” Tony said unconvincingly.

“Can we talk about it?”

He shook his head, leaving silence between them. She decided not to push it now if he didn't want to. But she would find a time to bring it up later because it wouldn't be good for either of them if they continued to ignore it.

“You…you’ve been so good to me,” Tony said suddenly, his voice reverent. “You’ve been so patient. So kind. You’ve made me feel safe and given me so much hope despite everything that’s happened to me.” He found her hand with his and squeezed it. “I don’t think there’s anybody else I love and trust in this world more than you. And even though what happened the other day was…a lot, i-it doesn’t change that. I just…I need you to know that.”

“I love you too. All I want for you is to be safe. That’s the only thing I care about.”

His lips met hers softly, and she swiped at a tear on his cheek.

“I might…I might see if my therapist has any free sessions today.”

She nodded. “That sounds like a good idea.”

He kissed her forehead before getting up to grab his phone. Judging by how he sounded and the relieved look on his face, it seemed as though he could book himself an appointment. Michelle spent the rest of the day on the phone with Renee, who gave her updates and information about the investigation. As she had believed, Lyons had been working alone. Jack had personally interrogated him, and there hadn’t been any indication of the attack being part of a bigger plan. When Tony returned, they distracted themselves with errands and chores until they decided to order pizza for dinner. The air had cleared a little between them but things still felt uneasy.

Michelle got ready for bed early that night, finding she was far too tired to think clearly about how she wanted to approach the conversation anymore. He did similarly and went back into the bedroom. She assumed that his stance was unchanged and settled into the sofa bed again. However, a couple of hours later, to her surprise, but not her displeasure, she felt Tony slide in next to her.

“I can’t sleep without you anymore.” He mumbled into her ear.

She pulled him closer and let this moment of comfort between them give her hope that they would get through this.

Michelle woke up sometime early the next morning, finding that the weather had grown quite warm. So much so that the heat of their bare bodies under a thin blanket sufficed for comfort. She took her shirt off, realising that she was slightly apprehensive about him seeing all the new tattoos on her body. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen some of them before. But the new ones were very representative of her time away from him. He would likely ask, but Michelle knew that that conversation thread would ultimately lead to the events of the years they spent apart rising to the surface. She knew it was inevitable, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t terrified. She didn’t know where to begin. In an interrogation room in front of strangers, it didn’t matter. None of it mattered back then because Tony was gone. The only person she had ever been concerned about being judged by was Tony, and now he was here, now it was very much possible that he could and would.

She laid back down, letting him tug her closer and spent the rest of the night lying awake, watching the sunlight creep through their living room windows, feeling his breaths on her skin. Her thoughts continued to spiral downwards, to the point where she was mentally preparing herself for a life in prison because she couldn’t see an outcome where he didn’t leave her and despise her for keeping everything from him. And what broke her heart most of all in that vision was not prison, but the thought of him becoming more distrustful of everything and shutting more people out of his life. The thought of him suffering alone again.

“This is new…” He suddenly murmured against her back, pressing his lips to her shoulder. He grazed across the large phoenix, and she squeezed her eyes shut. It reminded her in many ways of the first time he’d seen her tattoos or at least the ones that weren’t on display.

Michelle felt his hands peel her shirt off as she leaned against the wall while her own cupped his face, pulling his mouth to hers. His eyes looked down across her exposed skin, and he stilled.

“What?” She said breathlessly, furrowing her brow.

Tony smirked, his thumbs brushing over the floral design on her sternum. It was an array of vine leaves and flowers that gradually crept around her sides and towards her stomach. “Nothing, I…just didn’t expect this. It’s beautiful.” There was so much genuine appreciation and fascination in his voice. It made her blush. She’d had them for years. Most days, she forgot they were there. But hearing him talk about them made all the memories come back again. Kneeling, he started to kiss down her body, tracing the patterns with his tongue. She sighed, closing her eyes.

He continued to move downwards, hands slowly creeping around her waist, touching more and more of her skin. She couldn’t let him do this. They hadn’t been intimate since they’d been reunited. Michelle didn’t feel right letting it happen under such a false pretence. She couldn’t let him do something that symbolised such adoration and devotion to her whilst thinking she was the same person he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Even if the other day had already proved that that wasn’t true, she couldn’t take hiding from him anymore.

Tony needed to know.

And there was no time to do it but now.

“N-No. Stop. Please.” She said quietly.

Immediately he pulled back, turning her face to look at him, both surprised and worried to see her on the verge of tears.

“What’s wrong?”

She took a deep breath, mustering the courage to look him in the eyes. “We need to talk about it, Tony.”

“I told you that I understood and that I just needed time-”

“No.” Michelle huffed. “That’s just it. You don’t understand.”

“What do you mean?”

So many thoughts and emotions were flooding her mind, but she couldn’t get a single word out, instead just letting his eyes roam her face with concern. He helped her up gently, pivoting so she was sat in his lap as he leaned against the couch.

“Michelle, what’s going on?” He thumbed at her cheek.

“Y-You and I both know that what happened the other day was not the first time I’ve done something like that. And I know Jack told you what I nearly did after.” She let out a breath. “So now I need to talk to you. I-I need to explain some things to you. About what I’ve done. About who I’ve become. B-Because all this time you’ve sat there thinking that I’m still the same person I was before we were apart, but I’m not anymore.”

Her heart broke at seeing such innocent confusion on his face. She couldn’t take the tightness in her chest, the tension, the overwhelming fear about how he would react. She just had to tell him. When she went to open her mouth, a broken noise came out instead. Her hands shook as she buried her head between them. Immediately, he outstretched his arms, taking her in.

“Hey…hey…whatever it is, you can tell me. You know that.”

Michelle shook her head. “N-Not this.”

It took her several more tries before she could tell him, several more shameful sobs, several more moments of him telling her it was okay, that he just wanted her to say it, that he couldn’t stand to see her so upset. Finally, she took in a deep, even breath, continuing to look down into her lap, not bearing to meet his gaze.

“It…It started when I went undercover.” Michelle gulped. “A-After you were gone, I threw myself into work. It was the only thing that kept me distracted from the pain. I did anything and everything that was on the table, no matter how dangerous. I-I hoped each mission would be my last, that I could somehow die with honour.”

He tucked a hair behind her ear.

“I had to get close to a former FBI agent. One who’d become corrupt and used his information for the wrong reasons. I-I pretended that I was angry at the government, that I believed they killed you. And it worked at first. I got information from him that I could pass on to CTU. But it wasn’t enough. I knew there was more to it and didn’t want to give up.” She sniffled. “I-I slept with him. I protected him. I did everything for him. And even though I knew it was for the sake of the greater good, I felt so, so guilty. I couldn’t believe I’d found it in myself to do that when I’d only lost you a few months before. So when…” She wiped under her eye. “So when I saw the coke, and he offered it, I didn’t refuse.”

She laughed bitterly.

“I remember wondering before that day how much pain Jack could have been in to make him need to find a way to numb it. I-I just couldn't fathom it. But at that time, I understood exactly why. I knew it wasn't the right way to deal with my grief. B-But I didn’t care. I didn’t care about anything anymore. Serving my country was all I had left. And when CTU raided his warehouse and put him away, I felt like it had all been worth it.”

“Michelle, you were undercover,” Tony said with understanding. “If that meant you had to go a little rogue and not play everything by-the-book one hundred per cent of the time, then that’s okay. You did what you had to do. Things aren’t always black and white-”

“N-No. Don’t try and…dismiss it." She didn't want his pity. She didn't deserve it. "D-Don’t try and act like you understand because this isn’t even the worst of it.”

Tony furrowed his brow.

“I didn’t…I didn’t give CTU everything. I let one of Gaeta's associates get away because she gave me…she gave me information about the people who’d ‘killed’ you. Somehow she had more of the details than what was on file. She had personal information about their lawyers and their families, things that would usually stay confidential. She told me all I had to do was say the word, and she would take care of them.”

Tony’s hand brushed against her cheek, reminding Michelle he was still there, even though she wouldn't dare look up at him. 

“I didn’t want her to. Revenge wasn’t what I wanted. Those people were in prison. It didn’t seem necessary. When I got back…I was forced to transfer to Division. I found out that Jack knew about it and didn’t tell me because he wanted me out of the field. He was right to believe that. I was a mess. I didn’t even go to rehab. I just did whatever I could get my hands on and made sure I could still do my job even if I was numbed out of my brain. But it was all I had left, and I was furious, so when I moved to Seattle I stopped talking to him.” She pursed her lips. “I stopped talking to a lot of people except Chloe. We bonded over the fact that we were sick and tired of watching people get away with doing these horrible things. Half of the time, I would see reports that instead of throwing these people in jail, CTU would just make some deal with them because they had information, and then they’d get a light sentence or even walk.”

He hummed in assent.

“The final straw was when one of the people that killed you got out on parole. I-I couldn’t take it anymore. I’d worked at CTU to try and make the world a better place. I thought I was doing the right thing, b-but everywhere I looked, the wrong things were still happening, and I couldn’t stop them. And all of a sudden…I realised I believed every word I’d told Gaeta and his crew.” 

“I’m calling in that favour.” She said harshly, so full of anger, so full of hatred, craning her neck to make sure nobody saw her on the phone. “I let you go when CTU busted Gaeta. Now it’s your turn to do something for me.”

“Ah, I think I know what this is about. Has Special Agent Michelle Dessler really stooped this low?” There was such an audacious tone to her voice. It didn’t make Michelle feel any better. Her conscience was already screaming at her that this went against every principle she had. “I can have him shot down the minute he walks out the front doors of that prison.”

It sounded so perfect, so easy, letting someone else do the dirty work for her, letting justice be delivered. But this could backfire easily. Mandy wasn’t loyal to anyone. She only did what served her interests. And having this kind of information on a CTU agent would be valuable. Also, considering this was one of the men who had beaten her husband to death, Michelle realised that shooting him wouldn't satisfy her. It scared her a little. She never thought she’d be the kind of person to hire an assassin, let alone critique the methods she chose. But being undercover had forced her into situations that channelled parts of her she didn’t know existed. It had been worth it. It had also been the first time she’d realised that sometimes sinking to that level was the only way to get justice delivered. 

So Michelle realised she didn’t want Mandy to kill him.

And not just kill but make him suffer, make him die in pain the way Tony had, and make him give up whatever information he might have on the other prisoners. Although, eyebrows would certainly be raised at his murder, and Michelle would be a suspect. They could only rule her out if she had a strong alibi.

And what better alibi than being dead?

“I don’t want you to kill him.” She hardened her voice, knowing there was no going back now. “I want you to make me disappear so I can.”

Her breathing shortened up. “So I set up a fake suicide. I made the world, our friends, our family, people who care about us, think I was dead. And I went after him. Then it didn’t feel like enough, so I killed his lawyer. I…I became so aware of every injustice I’d ever seen, and I made it my mission to make things right. There were just so many people who were getting away with horrible, horrible crimes and I couldn’t let them live, I couldn’t let them keep doing it. And when I found out that Alan Wilson was behind so much of it, including, no, especially, your death, I knew I wouldn’t be able to move on until he was stopped.”

The mention of Wilson’s name made something click. He remembered being told that he had been killed during his arrest. Tony had assumed an FBI agent or cop had shot him when he’d tried to resist. He remembered how relieved he’d felt that the man who’d torn him away from Michelle and made them both suffer would never have a chance to do it again. But after what had happened the other day with Lyons and what Michelle was saying now, he realised that maybe his assumption had been wrong.

He felt the heaviness of his words as they left his mouth. “You…you killed Wilson didn’t you?” 

“I-I had to. He killed you. He let criminals g-get away with terrible things, and I know that it doesn’t make me any better than them but-“

“Michelle, the fact that you’re so worked up, just shows that you have a heart. It just shows that you're human. I still remember when you told me you shot the guy at the hotel, how much it scared you. This isn’t any different. Just because you weren’t working under an agency doesn’t mean you weren’t trying to do a good deed.”

“No.” She said firmly, still somehow feeling as though she was deceiving him. Like she was manipulating him. “Because I didn’t just ‘kill’ them, Tony. I didn’t just shoot them and move on.”

The finality of her actions hit her now. At this moment, the stench of blood became unbearable. Looking at her hands, her clothes, and his body, there wasn’t a single unstained spot. She knew how to clean it up. She had come prepared, but seeing it all in front of her was a different story. The person she’d been when she’d tortured him felt like a stranger to her. The part of her that kept pushing, kept asking for information until she got it. Now that he was dead, Michelle was confused. She thought she’d feel good, feel satisfied. It did a little. Now she wouldn’t have to worry about trying to find some way to get him incarcerated again. If Tony was here, she couldn’t possibly imagine how horrified he would be at her actions.

But he wasn’t.

That’s what she had to keep telling herself.

Tony wasn’t here, and he never would be.

A crease formed in his brow as he tried to understand.

She wiped under her eyes. “I beat them, I cut them, I did whatever it took to get the information I needed out of them, and then I left them to die in pain. Everything that Wilson’s people did to you, everything that’s made you so terrified, everything that makes you still wake up in a cold sweat is exactly what I did to each and every one of the people I killed.” Her jaw twitched, hating herself for what she was about to say because she knew it was true. “And if you’re wondering whether I would have kept asking Lyons for more information if you hadn’t shown up, the answer is yes.”

He made a small ‘o’ with his mouth.

“I am a monster, Tony. You should hate me. You shouldn’t forgive me for anything. If you knew how I left Wilson’s body, you wouldn’t dare look at me the same.”

Despite how roughly she tried to speak, despite how much she tried to convey how despicable she was, she was struggling to maintain what little composure remained, and actively crying. She had fought her tears as hard as she could. She didn’t want him to feel sorry for her. She didn’t want him to show sympathy and be understanding when he had every right to be upset at her, to detest her. But ultimately, she didn’t resist when he pulled her into his arms, rubbing small circles on her back and kissing the top of her head.

“God, you’ve been through so much, sweetheart.” He whispered.

“B-But so have you.” She implored. “Stop pretending that it doesn’t bother you, Tony. I-I don’t need you taking care of me, that wasn’t the point-”

He shook his head, pulling back and speaking softly. “Yes, you do. I’m here for you too. All you need to do is let me.” 

The echo of her words from the first day they’d arrived at the house made her chest hurt. She squeezed him back tighter.

“I…look, I don’t know what to say. I know I’m going to have to think a lot about this, and I know more questions will come up, not because I want to judge, but because I want to understand what you’ve been through so I can help you. Even if it’s not easy for me to process, that’s all I want to do for you.” He ran a hand through her hair. “You’ve helped me deal with my past. Let me help you deal with yours now. And at the end of the day, it doesn’t change the fact that I love you. Nothing can change that.”

“I love you too.” She said brokenly, allowing all of the relief to flood through her, finally feeling like she was free.

She didn’t have to hide from him anymore.

And she promised herself she never would again.

It was a lot to take in. Tony couldn’t deny that. In fact, he wasn’t even sure he could fathom it. Michelle roughed Lyons up the other day but hadn't intended to kill him. Or at least not in front of him. He didn’t think she could do such a thing. Although torture and punishment scared him far more than death ever could, so he was less bothered by that than he'd initially thought. But at the same time, she wasn’t the kind of person to exaggerate or be dramatic. He knew everything she had said was the honest truth. And he was sure when it finally sunk in that it would indeed scare him. Possibly more than it had the other night. He didn’t want it to though. That’s why he was trying to suppress every instinctive reaction and question, in fear of upsetting her more or misinterpreting something.

It was why he was sitting outside on the porch at some ungodly hour, slowly sipping a cup of coffee. The birds chirped from afar, with the wind whistling through the trees. A couple of days had passed since the morning she told him everything. But unlike before, when there had been a changed, apprehensive atmosphere between them, this time, something had lightened. There wasn't a sense of traction every time one of them went to speak. When she smiled, she did it without restraint, without the underlying feeling of guilt she had been carrying for far too long. And he was happier too. Happier knowing that they were working through something huge, and doing it well, or at least, not terribly.

A little while later, she came outside too. Michelle tightened her robe upon feeling the breeze before sitting next to him warily.

“I tried to put myself in your position. I thought about what I would do. I thought about how much we’ve suffered, how much we’ve lost, how much pain we’ve been in.” He met her eyes. “And I don’t think I would have done anything very differently.”

“You don’t know that.”

He shrugged. “I wouldn’t say that. I remember when I thought that Saunders was going to kill you…I remember thinking about everything I’d do. I told myself I’d kill him. I told myself I’d kill his daughter. I told myself I’d hunt down and kill everybody he was connected to.”

“But you didn’t mean it. You didn’t actually put it into practice.”

“While I don’t know what exactly I would have done if I’d lost you that day, the point is I don’t have to. I have you now. We can protect each other.” Tony’s arm slid around her bicep, pulling her closer towards him. “In whatever way we have to. Even if it’s confronting, I’d rather be scared than be without you.”

Her hand covered his.

“And more than anything…I’m tired of talking about the past. We’ve both been through hell. It’s changed us. So I think all we need to do now is move forward. Bad things happened to us. We reacted in the only way we thought we could, but now we’re here. We’re together again. Just like how I don’t regret what I did to save you, what made me go to prison in the first place. If I had the chance to do it all over again, I would save you, each and every time.”

Her bottom lip wobbled.

“And maybe you wouldn’t have.” He seemed to know what she was already thinking. “If it was a choice between me and millions of innocent people, maybe you would choose the people, and I get that. That’s…why you did all of this, right? To protect people, to keep them safe, because you couldn’t trust the government to do it. It doesn’t make either of us ‘bad’ or ‘wrong’. It just makes us different. There’s no need for either of us to feel shame or regret because at the end of the day...” He sighed. “We were put through things that no person should have to face. We never could have predicted this, and we never could have known a ‘better’ way of doing any of this. Okay? All we need to focus on now is starting over.”

She let out a shaky breath before nodding and resting her head on his shoulder. 

“It’s a miracle, you know?”

Michelle tilted to look at him.

“That somehow, after everything we’ve been through, we’re still here. You were immune to that virus. Saunders didn’t kill you. The criminals you went after didn’t kill you. I somehow held out for eight years of torture. Any one of those things not happening would have meant never seeing each other again. So the fact that we’ve survived…has to mean something.”

“Look, I know you think you’re processing this and believe me, I’m so grateful that you’re giving me the chance. But if…if you want to leave me because of any of this…I won’t stop you.” 

“What?”

“You have every right.” Tears welled in her eyes. “This is going to hit deeper the more you think about it, and if you don’t want to sleep next to someone who tortured and killed people in cold blood, you shouldn’t have to.” 

He shook his head. “Michelle, I…that never even crossed my mind. Yes, this is something for us to work through, but I would never leave you over it. I...I’ve spent all these years missing you, hoping you were alive, hoping Wilson's people had lied to me, and you think I would give up just because we aren’t quite the same people we were ten years ago?”

She was clearly still so taken aback by how understanding he was being. She couldn’t find the words to rebut, to insist that she deserved him leaving her. 

“I’m so sorry that I’ve kept all of this from you for so long, but I only did it because I knew you’d be all alone if I wasn’t there for you while you were recovering. I…I never wanted to hide from you. I was just so scared that if I let you push me away, you wouldn’t have anybody there for you the way I was.” Michelle cleared her throat to harden her voice, but it made no difference. “I’ve thought about whether I regret doing any of what I did. And I…I don’t. I regret pushing Jack and everybody else away and not letting them be there for me. But I know that if Chloe and I hadn’t done what we had, w-we never would have looked into Alan Wilson and…” She wiped under her eye. “W-We might never have found you.”

“You did things for the right reason.” He said emphatically. “And that’s what matters.”

“I guess. All this time, I told myself it was for some greater cause, but…” Michelle chewed the inside of her lip. “Sometimes I still ask myself whether it was really for justice or because of you and the baby…”

He had been rubbing her shoulder with his thumb but suddenly stopped.

“Wait.” Tony looked down at her. “‘Baby’?”

Her eyes squeezed shut, but she stayed strong at this moment, no longer feeling like hiding from him was an option.

“I-I was pregnant when they took you from me,” Michelle said in a very small voice, confirming his suspicion. “N-not very far along. Doctor Macer had told me in the hospital that day. I…I never got the chance to tell you. I didn’t want to do it on the phone. I wanted to do it in person. Then…then you got arrested, and I had to wait until they let me visit you.” She let out a sob of disbelief. “I-I was relieved, you know? I figured it wouldn’t be so bad whether the sentence was one year, twenty years, or a lifetime because I would always have a part of you with me. B-But then you were gone, a-and I was so upset, and I…I lost it.”

Tony gave her a sympathetic look, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I-It’s my fault. It’s all my fault, if I had just-“

His arms wrapped around her fiercely as she cried into his chest. “No, it’s not.” He kissed the top of her head. “I could never, ever, blame you for something like that. I love you, Michelle, with all of my heart, and no matter what’s happened these last few years, that is something that hasn’t changed. I can’t even imagine how hard that was to go through alone. You keep telling me I’ve been strong, but so have you. To have gone through that and still had the energy to fight back, to do something about it, it’s so powerful, Michelle.”

“T-Thank you.” She whispered. “I love you too. I love you so much.”

He held her for a long time, but eventually, they moved back into their room, both seemingly wanting to continue what he started the other morning. She fell against the bed, and he peeled her robe off her. He hovered over Michelle, now trying to look at the tattoo of the bird and flowers trailing from shoulder to bicep. It surprised him more and more just how much of her skin was now inked. It had been a long time, he supposed. But he knew Michelle. He knew that there was meaning behind each and every one. The flowers on her sternum had been there for as long as he’d known her. She'd gotten the tattoo on her calf when she got her full field certification at CTU. It was the first one he’d witnessed her get.

Suddenly, he furrowed his brow, looking at the small German Shepherd on her other forearm.

“Is that the dog?”

She giggled a little. “I missed him. I had to leave him with my brother when I moved to Seattle.”

He held her hand up, noticing the small ankh below her thumb. The slight smile in her expression dissipated.

“Tell me about this one…” He said softly.

“I-I got that a few days after the hotel. Because of the guy I shot.” She looked away. “Seems a little stupid now. I…I wanted to get it removed, but I never had the chance.” 

“I think it’s a reminder that no matter what you tell yourself, you’re not a bad person.” He brushed over it with his thumb before bringing it to his lips to kiss it. “You never would have gotten that if you were. And I’m sure if you really didn’t care, you would have made time to remove it. I don’t want you to keep saying stuff like this, alright?”

Michelle made a noise of assent. His mouth fell to her chest, and she sighed. She could see in his eyes just how much he loved her and how much he was trying to show her that no matter how much had changed, no matter how long it had been, the spark between them had never disappeared. He cupped her thigh, noticing the beautiful flock of black birds from mid-thigh to her hipbone. The sword tattoo on her calf was still there. It was slightly more detailed now, with an added date in Roman numerals at the bottom. It was from several years ago. She sensed him still around the area, knowing what he was likely about to ask.

“It was the day I was revived. The day I started doing things for myself.”

He nodded and continued to kiss every inch of her he could see. His body had changed too. She knew he hated the scars. She'd spent every day helping him try to rub salve on them so they wouldn’t be so prominent. But she hated that he felt that way about himself more. Of course, she hadn’t exactly had the highest self-esteem since their reunion either, but she wanted him to feel good about himself, just as he’d made her. Pulling him up towards her, she pressed her own lips to his chest, suckling lightly at each puckered line and mark. He moaned as her arms slid up his back.

They made love tenderly, not feeling the pressures of time, just letting themselves become re-familiarised, letting themselves enjoy a moment of intimacy, letting it heal them in its own way. And through the tearful aftermath, the clinging grips and touches, the whispers of “I love you”, Michelle felt for the first time since they’d reunited that having a future with Tony was no longer intangible.

“God, I never used to think our old street was that loud, but since we’ve been here…” She sighed. “I've realised just how nice it is to have peace and quiet sometimes. I’ll admit, it feels a little lonely and isolated, but still…”

He hummed in assent as he took a sip of his coffee. They sat on the porch outside while they ate breakfast. It was almost strange not having the sound of car horns and engines within their daily soundscape. The air was also crisp and clean, not weighed down with smog like in Los Angeles. Having a change of scenery had been incredibly healing for the both of them, with nothing to remind them of their darkest days. They had had more talks, usually ending in teary apologies for little things and big things alike. Neither of them had the energy to keep it all in anymore. No matter how much they loved and cherished having each other, some things were still hard. Tony would try to push through therapy, still try and deny he needed help, that he was getting over it, but Michelle knew that simply wasn’t the case, that it might not be the case for a long time.

“There’s something I read the other day in the pamphlets the therapist gave me.” She pulled them out from the pocket of her jacket. “I think it might actually be good for both of us.” 

“Yeah?”

“A dog.”

“I mean, we’ve got plenty of people guarding the house. A dog would be nice, but do we really need it?”

Michelle cleared her throat. “No, I meant like a…therapy dog. One that’s trained to help calm you down if you’re having an attack, one that’s trained to get your medication, one that’s trained to do things that normally only I can help you with. What if I’m not here and something happens?”

He shrugged with one shoulder. She knew he still had a lot of shame about his condition. Some days she felt like she was begging him to stop being so hard on himself, to stop expecting things to go back to normal, that some things had changed permanently, and that that was okay. 

“Lots of people in different situations use them. Having one doesn’t make you ‘weak’ or ‘broken’. I want it for us, not just for you.” 

Tony didn’t meet her eye, and she bit her lip, looking at him with concern. She could keep pressing him, make him admit how he felt, but that wouldn’t get them anywhere. Both of them knew it. They were tired of this conversation. She wanted to take care of him. She wanted to be there for him. She didn’t want him to feel alone. But he implored that sometimes it was too much, that he could handle some things on his own, that she shouldn’t worry so much. Michelle just couldn’t trust whether he was telling the truth because she knew it wasn’t so much that he could handle some things, and it was more like he would force himself to. She did admit she had been overbearing and realised that space was good for both of them, as crazy as it sounded having been apart for so long.

But it was his treatment, his recovery. So Michelle decided maybe she should let him decide on his own.

“Please, just think about this,” Michelle said as she set the pamphlets beside him and went back inside.

He walked into the kitchen a little while later, his footsteps so quiet he startled her when she turned around to find him standing there, pamphlets in hand.

“I’ll…I’ll give it a try. There’s a trial program, where you can have one for a little while and decide if it works for you.” Tony let out a soft laugh. “I do miss having a dog around, I admit that. Getting a bit of exercise by walking it can’t hurt either..”

She smiled, moving forward to hug him. “Thank you. Y-You know that all I want is to keep both of us safe and to do what’s best for us.”

Tony’s lips pressed against her hair. “I know you do. A lot of this is me being insecure. I know it’s stupid. I-I’m just having a hard time admitting that I won't be able to do all the things I used to. Or at least…that I might need help with them."

Michelle’s arms squeezed him tighter. “I understand that it’s hard accepting that things won't be the same. But I’m with you every step of the way, no matter what. That’s all we have to remember. That we have each other.”

They held each other for a while, wordlessly communicating that each of them knew what the other wanted, that they respected each other, and that they loved each other. Tony looked at the clock when he finally did pull away.

“Do you want to go to the place today? I think they’ve just opened.”

“Yeah…” She nodded. “We’ll go.”

They returned a few hours later with several boxes of supplies and a fidgeting black labrador named Wrigley in the back seat. Michelle’s heart had melted at Tony's smile when they'd seen the playpen of dogs available. They could have him for a few weeks, and if they were happy, they would simply have to sign a few more forms to keep him. When they got home, Michelle insisted on packing everything away, wanting him to spend some time with the dog. She had to make a few trips to the car, getting glimpses of Tony playing with Wrigley along the way. When she had first heard of the idea, she had thought it was undeniably perfect. Not something invasive or ‘clinical’, but just a small lifestyle change. Michelle really hoped he would feel the same too.

She cursed under her breath when the wind slammed the door shut. He hated it. Sudden, loud noises. They’d figured it out in the early days at the hospital. Every time Wilson’s people had left the room after torturing him, they’d always slam the door, frustrated by the fight he would put up. But even as Tony’s energy to resist had faded over time, they would do it anyway. So his brain had come to associate those noises with pain, with fear, with horrific suspense about what they might do to him next. Since being home, Michelle had tried her hardest to make sure she was careful around the house, not carelessly slamming cupboard doors and making sure she kept her voice level when she spoke to him. But the disadvantage of living somewhere so open-plan and close to nature was that the wind was often loud and effective at making blinds shake or shutting doors around the house even if nobody was there.

As always, he tensed at the noise, trying to focus on his breathing, trying to calm down. Tony clenched his fists, shut his eyes, and he could tell that it likely wouldn't be one of those times when the attack would pass. Wrigley noticed this, moving to nuzzle Tony’s thigh, persevering even as Tony tried to move away. As he put his head between his knees, he felt the dog press its face against his own, its soft whines of concern. It seemed desperate to keep in contact with him, to ground him, and Tony slowly realised that that was exactly what was stopping him from panicking completely, from viscerally remembering everything. With a trembling hand, he reached out, bringing the dog closer to him, stroking its fur, reminding himself that things would be okay, that he wasn’t back there, that he would never be back there.

When Michelle ran back from the driveway to find the dog protectively pressed against Tony, but more importantly, to see Tony on the verge of fading out of a panic attack and not surrendering deeper into one, she felt her eyes water. Warily, she moved a little closer to the two of them, waiting for Tony to sit up and open his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry. I should have shut the door when I went back to the car.”

“N-No, it’s okay. He….he kept me here.” He said hoarsely, but she could still tell how surprised he was. “I thought I would go back there, I thought I’d lose it and not know where I was, think that I was trapped again, but…” Tony looked down at the dog, cracking a small smile, and Michelle could see how emotional he’d gotten too. “This time I was able to fight it.”

She sighed with relief, letting a tear roll down her face. He wasn’t angry, he wasn’t chastising himself, he was hopeful, almost. As if some of the light behind his eyes that she hadn’t seen in a very long time, possibly wondering if it would ever return, had come back. That maybe this would work, that having a dog, a companion that intuitively knew when things weren’t okay, by his side was the right thing. Standing up, the dog darted between their legs as he hugged her.

“You can say ‘I told you so’ now. We’re keeping him, I’m sure.”

Michelle laughed through her nose, kissing his cheek.

Michelle woke up gasping for air but quickly clamped her hand over her mouth to avoid waking him. There had been enough nightmares by now for her to be able to stop herself from screaming so she wouldn’t make any noise. But when she realised that the spot next to her in the bed was empty, her breaths started to shake. Standing and grabbing the gun from the bedside with trembling legs, she called out his name, checking the bathroom, checking every other room of the house but instead found herself alone. She couldn't find the dog either. Her heart started to race, and she tried to calm herself down with a few deep breaths. Walking out to the street, she asked one of the FBI agents if she’d seen him. The agent said he’d apparently gone for a walk. Michelle knew he liked doing that to clear his head. Sometimes she went with him, while other times she let him have his space, but it was usually during the day, not at four in the morning. To her relief, she saw a note written in a familiar scrawl on their kitchen counter that she must have missed on her first search.

“Gone to Jack’s. Taken Wrigley.”

Sighing with relief, she let herself fall back asleep for a bit. She trusted that he was okay. She knew she was a little overprotective at times, so something like this was important for her to let go of some of that.

When she woke up, the sun was shining brightly through the windows. He wasn’t beside her, but she could hear the pattering of the dog’s footsteps and could smell what she guessed was bacon and eggs, as well as freshly brewed coffee. Quietly, she padded into the kitchen. Her heart melted at the smile on his face when he turned around to tell her good morning.

“When did you get back?”

“An hour or so ago, I would have let you know, but you were sleeping, so I didn’t want to wake you.”

Michelle nodded. “It’s okay.”

They sat at the table, enjoying the peace and quiet. She observed him for a moment. She could tell he was somewhat content like he’d gotten something off his chest.

“Did talking to Jack help?”

“Yeah. It did. I just…I want to make sure I don’t say the wrong thing when we talk about what you told me the other day.” 

She smiled appreciatively at his consideration. It meant the world to her that he was trying so hard to be accepting and understanding when she wouldn't have blamed him for running away and never looking back.

Tony cleared his throat. “Can I just ask you one thing?”

“Anything,” Michelle replied.

“Did you enjoy it?”

She furrowed her brow.

“When you…when you got information out of those people, did you enjoy it?”

Michelle was quick to harden her voice. “N-No. Never.” 

It made her wonder just how sadistic Wilson's people were. The idea that they hadn't just tortured him to make the most of Tony's information but also because they somehow derived pleasure from seeing him suffer sent a chill down her spine.

Tony let out a breath. “Then that’s all I needed to hear. I-I didn’t think you would have, but I just needed to hear you say it.”

“Of course. If…if there’s anything else you want to know about, ask, and I’ll tell you. I don’t want to hide any of this from you anymore.”

He looked up to meet her gaze, seeing nothing but honesty there. But he knew she was hiding something. Or at least, he knew there were some things she hadn’t told him yet.

“Jack…Jack told me about the deal you made with Taylor.”

She froze, immediately wondering what aspect of the deal he was referring to. Jack knew about the tracking chips. Was Tony offended by that? Would this be the thing that breaks them? Because she let the government track him without his consent after everything they’d been through, after all the betrayal, after all the corruption?

“You would have let me leave you even if it meant life in prison?” He asked but quickly held up his hands. “I-I’m not saying that I would have, but…you were seriously willing to go to prison just to make sure I’d be happy?”

She shrugged with a small smile, feeling relieved by the total lack of resentment in his voice. “You did the same for me.”

Tony laughed through his nose. “I did, didn’t I.” 

Lifting her hand, she placed it on the table. He covered it with his own.

“I’m…I’m sorry for not telling you. I’ve been talking about being open and that was still a huge thing to keep secret. The…the only reason I didn’t want to tell you wasn’t because I was afraid of going to jail. I didn’t want to tell you only so that your decision to stay with me wouldn't be influenced by you not wanting me to go to jail. You don’t deserve to have me holding you back.”

As he thought back to that time in his life, she watched his expression fade. “Look, Michelle, I might not have been in prison for very long, but I was there long enough to know that it’s somewhere I never want you to be. Even if we weren’t together, even if things were to change, and believe me, I don’t want them to, I would protect you from that. And more than anything, I defend what you did because I know you didn’t do it for satisfaction, or money, or for power. You did it because you saw a problem and took it into your own hands. That’s why you don’t deserve to go to jail. Not just because I love you, not just because I want to protect you, but because I know you’re a good person.”

Feeling tears well in her eyes, she got up in one quick motion to press his lips to hers. He wrapped a hand around her waist, holding her to him. She threw both of her arms over his shoulders.

“I love you.” She whispered.

Her thumb caressed his cheek. He pressed his forehead against hers.

“I love you too. I…I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Well, the good thing is…” She said with a slight smirk. “We don’t have to think about that anymore. All we need to think about is being there for each other while we heal. Both of us, okay?”

He nodded after a beat. “Okay.”

One Year Later

She woke to find his mouth resting atop the curve of her stomach, hands gently meandering around her waist. It had become something of a habit, one that reminded her how protective he was and how her presence grounded him so much. It was a reminder for him that he was somewhere safe now, that their family was the only thing important now. The pregnancy hadn’t exactly been expected, and it had been overwhelming to even think about raising a child together when they were still doing so much healing themselves. It had seemed so sudden, not necessarily that they didn’t eventually want kids together again, but that they hadn’t expected to be making that decision so soon.

He heard quiet crying on the other side of the bathroom door and knocked gently.

“Sweetheart?”

She looked up at the door, tears blurring her vision. 

After calling her name a few more times, he tried his hand at the doorknob, realising it was unlocked. He found her sitting on the tiles, hugging her knees to her chest, and gripping something tightly in her hand.

“Hey…” He said softly, crouching down beside her. Michelle didn’t meet his eyes as she passed the object over to him. 

Tony silently examined the positive pregnancy test. 

“I…I don’t know what to do. I want this. I want this so badly with you. But I can't even feel that part of me because the rest of me is so scared of putting ourselves and this baby in danger.” She stifled another sob. “I-I don’t know if I can do this, but I want to. I want us to have our family, I want us to have the life we always wanted together. B-But…” 

He took her in his arms, feeling moisture settle on his shoulder. “If it were a decade ago, I would have said ‘yes’ in a heartbeat. But right now…I-I don’t know either. If there was a guarantee we’d be safe, it’d be different.”

“Even if we were…I…with everything I’ve done, I don’t think I have the right to be a parent.”

When he tilted his head at her, he saw how ashamed she looked and pursed his lips, tucking a hair behind her ear. “We’ve done a lot of healing, you and I. And we’re going to keep healing. It wouldn’t be easy, but even in a perfect life, parenting is never simple. There’ll be things we disagree on, and we’ll have to find a way to let our kid have a life without wrapping them in bubble wrap. But we wouldn’t be alone. We have Jack. And maybe we’ll have our families soon too.”

“W-What are you saying?”

“I’m saying that.” He let out a breath. “If we ever get the news that nobody’s coming after us, that we’re safe, there’s nothing that would make me happier than having children with you. That’s never changed, Michelle. We’ve both been through hell and back, we deserve to be happy and have another chance at the life we wanted. And there is nobody I trust more than you to keep our family safe.”

“You mean it?” She whispered.

He nodded. “Yeah.”

“I wish we knew what was going on. I…I don’t want us to get our hopes about something that might not ever happen.”

“We have a bit of time, right? Until…until we have to decide if we want to keep it.”

“Y-Yeah…”

Tony clasped her hand in his. “If it doesn’t happen, it doesn’t happen, but if it does…then we’ll figure it out together. I…I want to do this with you Michelle.”

Michelle looked up at him, smiling weakly. “I do too.”

However, by some miracle, on the day they had to decide whether or not to keep the pregnancy, the FBI had finally been able to close the investigation on Alan Wilson and his associates. They would still be hunting down some information and loose ends. But from what they’d gathered, there was no reason for anybody to believe that a plan to hurt either of them was afoot since most of Wilson's associates were either dead or incarcerated. Staying in Witness Protection would be ideal, just in case, but they didn’t have to hide away entirely, they could make contact with their loved ones, and they’d still have some agents keeping watch from afar. So with that incredibly relieving and liberating news, they’d decided to keep the baby, the two of them feeling both able and more than willing to commit to parenthood. Or rather, babies. She was having twins, a boy and a girl, by the looks of it. And despite all the anxiety around that, they couldn’t be happier. They were safe, they were healing, things were going to be okay.

They’d worked to renovate the house they were living in, and while Michelle still occasionally took some private consulting work, Tony had decided that he still wanted to find a new calling in life. When he’d told Michelle one day he wanted to take a short course to become a qualified counsellor, she hadn’t been able to contain her pride for him. He was taking all of the heartache they’d been through and channelling it into not only healing their family but also other people.

He kissed the top of her belly again, indicating that he was awake, and she stroked a faint scar on his shoulder with her thumb, tracing up to his neck. Tony moved up, meeting her mouth with his. They faced each other on their sides, simply listening to each other breathe, their gazes loving. Again, her thumbs found themselves lightly tracing the scars on his chest. He frowned a little, looking down at her hands. To her, they just represented the fact that he was strong, that he’d fought, that he’d endured. But to him, they just represented a past he so desperately wanted to move on from. Although now with his new career focus, he’d been disliking them less and less.

“I thought of something. I know you’re trying to work on liking, or at least, not hating them as much. What if you covered it up?”

His brow knitted at the slightly sly smile she was giving. When he realised what she was hinting at, he let out a small laugh. “You mean like…a tattoo?”

Michelle shrugged. “I don’t know. I know you never really wanted them for yourself, just thought it might be something nice. Give you something different to look at every day.”

To her surprise, he seemed to be genuinely contemplating this. “I mean…I actually don’t mind the idea. And I’m sure it can’t hurt that much, given what I’ve been through." 

That was unfortunately likely true, she supposed.

"But I wouldn’t even know what to get.” His eyes roamed down her body with appreciation. The way he looked at her still never failed to make her blush.

“I think you’ve got some inspiration in front of you…” She murmured, leaning in to kiss him again. He smiled against her, taking the excuse to slide his hands over her body, peering over her shoulder at the phoenix.

“As much as I love yours, I know they’re personal to you. I don’t want to take that away from you.”

He was being so respectful, so understanding of why she had them, how they served almost as a journal of her life. But he was such a huge part of her life. It only made sense to share that with him. And Michelle figured she had just the right one in mind. It could be small to start with, but easy to expand if he ever wanted to.

She brought his hand to her hip.

“The birds?”

Michelle nodded. “Freedom. I got them when I made it out on my own, but I think you deserve something to commemorate yours too.”

He squeezed her thigh, as though approving.

“I want five of them. One for you, one for me, two for the kids, and one for Wrigley.”

Her hand slipped to cover his.

“Sounds like a plan. Then I’ll get five more too, once I’ve had the kids. Maybe in a different colour, so I remember which ones they are. I think it’s perfect.”

Tony cupped the back of her neck, pulling her head towards his so their lips could touch.

“I love you so much.”

“I love you too.”