Who Will Make Me Fight? Drag Me Out Alive?

Bobby had already turned the lights off, and his hand was on the doorknob. He was ready to go home, eat a rather late dinner and get some sleep. He hadn't left the office today since he'd been busy researching to aid his colleagues' cases, helping them write statements, and acting as their sounding board. They weren't due in court for a few days, but these cases had proven to be quite tricky. Bobby cursed as the phone rang. It was outside office hours now. They could leave a message, and Lucy would get back to them in the morning. But at the same time… who called for legal advice at this time of the night? It couldn't be a friend or relative; they would have called him or Lindsay personally. 

Somehow, he felt the need to answer.

“Donnell, Young, Dole and Frutt.”

“Is this Robert Donnell?” The voice was male, unfamiliar.

“Yes? Look, it’s after hours, so just tell me your name and come by-”

“I’m in Los Angeles, not Boston. I need you to come to me."

Bobby went to tell him they didn't do this kind of thing, taking cases interstate, due to the firm being broke, but the man continued to speak.

"I don’t care how much it costs because I need your firm to take this case.”

He furrowed his brow, leaning against the desk. Well, if he was offering to pay...

“Why are you calling a Boston law firm about a case in LA?”

“Because nobody here will take it. And from what I’ve heard, you guys are good.” He hardened his voice. “Please, just hear me out. You’re my last hope, and we’re running out of time.”

Bobby sighed. “Okay, mister…”

“Bauer. Jack Bauer.”

“How can we help?”

“A… a friend of mine." He sighed. "She’s set to be executed in sixty days, but it isn't right. She shouldn’t even be in prison in the first place, let alone on death row.” He took in a breath. “I… I need you to take her appeal so she can be free and have her life back.”

Bobby could hear the desperate sense of urgency in Jack’s voice. It served as a reminder of why he was a lawyer. He very rarely turned down cases, again, mainly due to their financial situation but also because he believed that everyone, everyone, deserved a right to a good defence, no matter if they had or hadn't done what they'd been accused of. So he had to know more. He had to help.

“What’s your friend’s name?”

“Michelle Dessler.”

Three Days Earlier

Jack could barely keep his eyes open. Fayed was dead, they had all the suitcase nukes, and they had found Audrey, so why did Bill still look so upset? He asked Jack to follow him to the office, shutting the door behind them as he sat. He sighed, sitting and leaning against the desk. 

“What’s going on, Bill?”

“It’s about Michelle.”

He felt a pit form in his stomach. The last time he saw Michelle, she was being dragged away in handcuffs. 

Michelle had followed Henderson as he’d tried to escape, managing to corner him in one of the server rooms. Jack had just caught up, standing near the open doorway. He gasped, finding Michelle in front of Henderson, a gun pointed at his chest. Henderson’s hands were raised, a smug smile on his face.

“You won’t do it.” He sneered.

She flicked the safety off. Her hand was trembling. Jack couldn’t see her face, but he hoped to God that she was doubting herself. He understood her pain. He was just as furious and wrought with grief as she was. He’d lost three close friends, friends he’d trusted with his life, in a matter of hours. And the only person left was suffering even more. Part of him begged himself to say nothing, to let her pull the trigger, let satisfaction come over him to distract him from his pain, even if only for a moment. If it wasn’t for the fact that Henderson was the only solid lead they currently had on the location of the Sentox, he probably would. 

But that was just it.

Henderson was all they had, their only chance of stopping more Sentox from being released. CTU was stretched thin; Edgar had found some possible connections but nothing concrete. And they were running out of time. They needed Henderson’s information, no matter what it cost. Even if they had to let him go free, Jack vowed he would kill him himself. 

He knew Michelle felt the same. But he also knew that all she saw before her eyes right now was the man who killed her child, her husband, the man who saved her husband from a life in prison, and a close friend. She also blamed herself. Once they’d heard the news that Palmer had been killed, that Chloe had been too, Tony had been the one to get her keys and go to the car. Her car. Unfortunately, she hadn’t clicked in time to realise that those attacks hadn’t been coincidental, running out only in time to watch him die and have the blast blow her back so hard she’d lost the only child she and her husband would ever have. She still replayed the morning in her mind, cursing herself for not moving just a moment earlier.

“Don’t do this.”

She took in a heaving breath. “Jack, this is my fault. Let me at least do what he would have done for me.”

“Michelle, Tony doesn’t want you to do this, and you know it.”

“But he’s not here, Jack.” She replied, her words heavy with emotion.

Everything seemed to happen all at once. Jack swore Henderson moved, but in the blink of an eye, two gunshots rang out, and Henderson was on the floor, a pool of blood forming beneath him.

“No!” Jack yelled.

Security ran past Jack into the room. Michelle’s knees wobbled as she lowered onto them, interlacing her hands behind her head as instructed. A few of them attempted CPR on Henderson but found their efforts futile.

Which meant the only person who currently knew where the Sentox was, was dead.

And it was crystal clear who was responsible.

But Bill had promised to take care of that, informing Jack that he needed to focus on finding another lead for the Sentox because that had been the day’s priority.

There was a haggard expression on Bill's face now, and Jack started to suspect that he hadn’t been able to keep his promise.

“I thought you said you’d take care of it. Where is she?”

He looked away in shame. “She’s set to be executed in sixty days.”

“What?”

“There were eight more Sentox attacks, four before the Chinese took you and four after. You were there. We were at a loss. We didn’t have enough evidence to pin Logan, and nobody else could tell us where the canisters were. The government needed someone to blame, so they blamed Michelle. They charged her with treason and first-degree murder.”

His heart sank. This couldn’t be right.

“Didn’t she get a lawyer to defend her in court?”

“It was a case against the US government, Jack. You think anybody wanted to touch that?” There was a sense of bitterness in his voice, and Jack realised how guilty he probably felt. “The state gave her a trainee. He was fresh out of law school and could probably barely get someone out of a speeding fine.”

Jack shook his head in disbelief. “Can’t she appeal? Say the lawyer was incompetent?”

“We can appeal now that you’re here. You were a key witness missing from the first trial.” Bill let out a breath. “But Michelle doesn’t care, Jack. She’s convinced the most anybody can do for her is get her a life sentence, and she doesn’t want that. The way she sees it, death would be a blessing.”

“Where is she being detained? I need to see her.” He said worriedly.

“She hasn’t accepted visitors in over a year, Jack. She’s shut down and accepted her fate. Even her father, her brother, Tony’s family, have all tried, but she keeps refusing. But that’s where you come in.”

He furrowed his brow. “Me?”

“Maybe she’ll see you, if only to say goodbye. But if you can find some lawyers to take her appeal, you can save her.” He hardened his voice. “You can go with them. You can convince her to try just one last time. I don’t care how much they charge, I’ll chip in. It was my CTU, it was my fault Henderson got out.”

Jack’s mouth fell agape. “How am I supposed to find lawyers willing to take this?”

Bill moved behind the desk to his computer, motioning for Jack to follow. “I’ve spent every spare moment looking up lawyers across the country. I have a list of firms that have successfully managed to get clients off of death row. You can start there. We’ve already ruled out everybody in California, Nevada, and Arizona. Offer them a first-class ticket here for all I care. We need to save her.”

He was trying so hard to mask the fear in his voice with conviction. And Jack felt the same fear build inside of him. This wasn’t right. For as long as Jack had known her, Michelle had always been objective, always focused on doing the right thing no matter what. But because she'd slipped up and allowed her emotions cloud her judgement once, just once, she was about to pay for it with her life. Michelle didn’t deserve that, nor did she deserve a lifetime of prison. She deserved a second chance. She deserved the opportunity to rebuild her life, to find something that makes her happy, to find a way to keep living despite the pain and heartache inside.

Because right now, she was simply taking the first excuse for giving up and running with it.

“Why don’t we just go with guilt by insanity?” Jimmy offered. “We’ve used that for grieving widows before.”

Bobby pondered this, then shook his head. “But the security footage shows Dessler talking to Bauer. I listened to it, and she wasn’t incoherent, so I don’t know if we can pull that off. It might also impact her chance of employment if we claim she was unstable.”  

Jack sighed. They’d been at it for hours, drinking coffee after coffee in the hotel room the firm was staying in. Ellenor, Lucy, and Rebecca had been left to manage the other cases in Massachusetts, so it was just Bobby, Eugene, Jimmy, and Lindsay in LA. Jack brought over all the case information, including the details from Michelle’s initial trial. It hadn’t taken long for them to realise that the defence had been pathetic, which, to Jack’s relief, meant they were confident they could request an appeal. 

But still, this was no easy case. 

Especially when another jail sentence wasn’t really an option; Michelle had already been in prison for nearly two years. Jack knew that if she had to do it any longer, it wouldn't help her feel like her life wasn’t over and that she still had something to live for. He just hoped this firm could pull it off. They were set to request to visit Michelle in a matter of days, so they had to be able to bring her tangible proof that she could get out.

“It boils down to two things.” Bobby started. “We have to prove her innocence for treason. That’s the more serious charge they can execute her for. Getting her off for that is non-negotiable. As for the murder charge, the fact was she shot him, so we can only hope to reduce the sentence. If it gets down even to second-degree murder, that leaves a shorter jail time, and then death will be off the table altogether.”

“How much shorter?” Jack asked.

“If we get the minimum, California law says fifteen years.”

His eyes widened. “That’s too long.”

“We can maybe negotiate down to community service or a bit of both. Dessler's a former government agent with a clean record behind her, so the judge will be more likely to be sympathetic.”

Jack nodded, feeling more relieved. There was a plan. There was hope. Considering Palmer had helped whittle Tony’s treason sentence down to seven months, hopefully, with all the circumstances surrounding the case, Michelle wouldn’t have to be in jail for too long either. At this moment, Jack wished more than ever that David Palmer was still alive; even without his presidential status, he would have been of great help.

“Unless…” Lindsay spoke. 

“Unless?” Jack turned to look at her.

“If we tug at the jury’s heartstrings, maybe we could get her off both charges. Think about it. She lost three people, including her husband, and miscarried within hours. And from what I’ve read of her file, there’s more where that came from.”

Eugene made a hesitant face, speaking with a warning tone. “We can try, but we don’t know this judge. If we go too far, we risk being charged with jury tampering. But considering what has happened to her, maybe a sympathetic jury is something we can pull off. We can’t rely on it, though.”

“So we’ll stick with the original plan, but maybe try and go for an emotional closing statement. I can look into the treason charge," Bobby turned to her, "Lindsay, why don’t you take the murder charge?”

She agreed.

They continued to work over the following hours. While he hadn’t formally studied law since graduate school, Jack was still happy to make himself useful by bringing up past CTU cases and the finer nuances that came with investigations at CTU compared to lower-level criminal offences.

“Wait, I think I have something.” Jimmy piped up. “I’m looking back through Tony’s treason charge, and the whole basis was that he was an agent, so he wasn't supposed to put Michelle's life over the country, right?”

“Right,” Jack said.

“Well… Michelle wasn’t an active agent anymore, right? She wasn’t working at CTU?”

Bobby furrowed his brow. “What are you trying to say?”

“I’m trying to say that her ‘definition’ of duty would be that of a civilian, just like you or me. But going through the transcript for her case, the prosecutor went on and on about how ‘she was a former agent, she served this country, she should have known better’. They put the idea in the jury’s head that it was her job to put everybody else above her husband, even though, by this point, she wasn’t working for the government. It wasn’t her job to make sure Henderson gave CTU the information. For all we know, someone else knew about and could have stopped those gas attacks.” He hardened his voice. “If we can find reasonable doubt that Henderson wasn’t the only person who knew where the gas was, some associate who had access to his computer, then the burden falls to the government. Am I wrong, Jack?”

He took a minute to think about this. “No, you’re right. Michelle wasn't reactivated as an agent when she came to CTU that day. I’ll admit she probably figured out what was happening more than a typical civilian would have. But still, there’s no concrete evidence to suggest she knew that Henderson was all we had. We found associates of his later through his computer. I can get Bill to look through it and redact the details that can’t be shown in court.”

“Alright, that sounds good. Lindsay, how are you going with the murder charge?” Eugene asked. She’d had her face buried in what looked like past murder cases they’d taken. Lindsay raised a finger before nodding and looking up.

“I think I know how we can drop from first-degree to second-degree murder, maybe even voluntary manslaughter.”

Bobby’s eyes widened. “Voluntary manslaughter is a minimum of three years. That’s a fifth of what she could serve.”

Lindsay turned to Jack. “Jack, Michelle would know how to handle a gun, right?”

He furrowed his brow. “Yes. All agents do.”

“So if she wanted to shoot to kill, she could. Especially given that Henderson wasn’t standing too far from her.”

Jack shrugged. “Easily.”

“But the fact was she didn’t. She shot Henderson's neck and then his shoulder. The autopsy said he died from blood loss because she happened to hit the brachial artery. If she wanted to kill him… she would have shot him in the head, point-blank.”

“So the fact that she didn’t…”

Lindsay nodded. “Means she had no intention to kill, only to harm, so add in the fact that he’d been taunting her, that the situation was emotional...”

“Then it’s a crime of passion,” Bobby concluded.

“Exactly.”

He sighed. “This sounds like it could work. But we’ll need to prepare Michelle since she'll have to testify, as will you, Jack, and possibly Buchanan.” Bobby picked up some of the previous trial transcripts on Jimmy's desk. “Based on the first trial, the prosecution will probably bring in a psychologist to try and dispute the ‘passion’ part. They’ll call a ballistics expert or coroner to verify the gunshots and how they were fired. You'll need to be prepared for whatever they throw at you. The prosecution can bring up anything and everything to destroy your credibility.”

“So let me get this straight,” Jack said, looking more hopeful but still confused and overwhelmed by the information. “We’re going to get her off treason by maintaining that she was no longer an agent, but then get her off murder by reminding the court that she used to be?”

“Pretty much,” Eugene confirmed.

As they continued to iron out details, Jack started to believe there was a light at the end of the tunnel for Michelle, that they could fix this, that they could give her her life back.

He just hoped Michelle would be able to see it, too.

The three of them had been waiting in the holding room for a while now; Bill had said Michelle was vehemently denying visitors, so it made sense. Jack had no intention of leaving, though. Eugene had already successfully scored an appeal, but by the sounds of it, one of the chiefs of Division had fought very insistently to keep Michelle exactly where she was. Jack knew it would be difficult: getting Michelle to go through with the retrial. They would have to make it abundantly clear that everything could go to shit but confidently emphasise there was a chance it wouldn’t. More than that, he had to promise Michelle an opportunity would be there for her when she got out. Bill was currently talking with every agency under the sun to try and see if anybody would be willing to take her, provided she was found not guilty. Michelle's love for Tony would not be something she could replace or try to move on from. But that didn’t mean she couldn’t have a fulfilling life by doing work that fuelled her. Jack knew their decision to leave CTU had been mainly made by Tony, not that he thought she seemed resentful, but he knew that if it wasn’t for him, she would have stayed. So if she could do this, work in a career that drove her, even if it maybe meant being set back a few security clearances, that would be something.

The door to the holding room opened with a creak. The orange jumpsuit was so bright against the dimness of the dull walls. The chains on her wrists and ankles rattled against the hard floor. Her hair was cut bluntly at her shoulders, her forearms and face were pallid, and her expression was weary. Jack fought back tears as he met her eyes. Memories came back from when he had to visit Tony for the first time all those years ago. Jack remembered how hard it had been seeing him look so defeated, so distant. But something in Tony had lit up when Michelle walked into that room. Michelle wouldn’t have that luxury now, but still, there was surprise in her expression.

“Jack?” She said with a slight rasp.

He moved forward as the guard stepped aside to let her in front. She hugged him, sniffling.

“I didn’t think it was actually you. I-I thought Bill was using a fake name to try and get me to see him.” Her arms suddenly squeezed tighter. “Are… are you okay? How did you get out of China?”

“It’s a long story, but I’m fine.” He said, pulling back a little. He noticed a faded scar at her temple. “Right now, I’m worried about you.” 

Michelle leaned to one side to look at Bobby and Lindsay behind him.

“Who… ?”

“They’re lawyers to take your appeal,” Jack answered.

Something in her expression changed. She stepped back from Jack, shaking her head. “N-No. I don’t want to hear it. Please. You need to leave. All of you.”

“Michelle, I know what you’re thinking, but it doesn’t have to be this way. Hear them out, please. You can’t just give up-”

“I am not spending the rest of my life in jail-” She said firmly.

“It won’t be-”

“Please, Jack, just listen to me.” Michelle insisted. “It’s easier this way. Don’t you understand? I can’t do this. Why do you think I haven’t let anyone visit me? It's so I can die without thinking about how much I’m hurting the people who care about me. Don’t take that away from me.”

He wanted to disagree with her, but he understood. The pain of losing someone you love, or in this case, multiple people. It was unbearable on its own, let alone in prison when she couldn’t even be with those she had left so they could grieve together.

“Five minutes. Just five minutes.” Jack asked. “Let them talk you through it.”

Bobby and Lindsay proceeded to explain their strategy, what she could expect the second time around, and what the possible outcomes were. Michelle simply sat there, taking in the information, asking the occasional clarifying question. She couldn’t get her hopes up. No matter how earnest and convincing these lawyers sounded, she wouldn't delude herself with any aspirations of freedom. By the sounds of it, they could get her a reduced sentence, maybe even house arrest. But ‘reduced’ could mean anything from a few years -- which, given that it had been nearly two already and she was at her wit’s end, already sounded agonising -- up to something in the double-digits. Her life would well and truly be over if she was in prison for that long. The thought of that reminded her why she never wanted to appeal and just wanted to let what was already set in place happen.

“Even if I'm found not guilty, what am I supposed to do, Jack? I had a husband who went to prison, remember? He couldn’t get a job anywhere with those charges behind him.”

“Bill is working on getting you something.”

She tutted. “They won’t do it. They’d rather keep me here to pin the blame for the attacks. If I get out, and God forbid, if I end up working for the government, my life will be a living hell, Jack. They’ll scapegoat me the first chance they have.”

He sighed. 

“Look, Ms. Dessler.” Bobby started. “The entire crux of our argument is that you shouldn’t have had the blame put on you in the first place because CTU could have done more. Our other colleagues are trying to secure reasonable doubt of that. If we win the jury over with this argument, then you won't face disrespect when you get out.”

Jack noticed the fear in her expression. And it wasn’t just fear over the plan failing, on her being found ‘guilty’ again. It was the fear of actually facing her grief, her life, finding meaning again. She sat there deep in thought, probably trying to analyse every angle, think about the logistics of each situation, and, if Jack was being optimistic, which he rarely was, maybe she was trying to think of ways to help the lawyers.

There was a notepad and pen next to Lindsay. Michelle leaned over a little, pulling it towards her. She wrote something down, discreetly holding it up to Jack, Bobby, and Lindsay.

No mics?

“Yes, you can speak freely,” Bobby answered.

Michelle nodded. “I will go through with the retrial on one condition.” She turned towards Jack. “You’re not going to like it, but I need you to understand I refuse to do this otherwise.”

“Anything.” He said.

She took in a deep breath, her voice serious. “If I end up with a life sentence, or even just… a long one, long enough to the point where I won’t be able to have a meaningful life when I get out… I want you to…” Michelle looked away. “I want you to let me die.”

Jack tilted his head at her. “Oh, Michelle…"

Bobby and Lindsay looked between themselves uncomfortably.

“Every time I close my eyes, it happens all over again. Hearing Edgar on the phone telling me that Chloe was dead, Tony going out, me trying to stop him and being too late. And it feels just as real as it did back then, each and every time.” Her voice was rife with emotion, the pain she was feeling prominently conveyed through her voice. “I can’t keep living in agony like this. If I end up back here, I’m not going to be able to hold on much longer. So, if it does happen, I want to die with dignity. And I want it to be quick.” Her voice wavered upon seeing how upset he was at the mere thought. “Which means you’re going to give me whatever you can get your hands on to make that happen.”

He raised his voice to mask the pain behind it. “Michelle, I’m not losing you too-”

“No.” Michelle looked him in the eyes. “Promise me you’ll do that. I would do it for you if it was the other way around. If I could have given you that release in China, I would have.”

“I stayed alive in China so I wouldn’t die for nothing-”

“And I’m telling you that if you don’t get me out, I will have nothing.” She said bitterly. “You remember what I did in the hotel, so you know that if you asked me to do this, I would respect your choice. But if you don’t swear to do what I'm asking, then this conversation is over. And I know you won’t lie to me.”

Jack knew she wasn't speaking half-heartedly to make him not pursue this. Logically, he could completely understand her. But his heart ached at the idea of losing her as well. If she hadn't gone to jail, he would have been there for her; he would have helped her move on and get her life back. The reality was, though, that she had. They had to work with the situation they were given. And he had faith in the firm to get her out of it. It had to be done this way. He could break her out without trouble, but he couldn't sentence her to a life on the run, life as a fugitive. He was going to give her the choice; he was going to give her the freedom she deserved.

“I give you my word.” Jack finally agreed, the tone of his voice even. “If this doesn’t work out, I will let you end your life with dignity.”

“Thank you.” She said, looking into his expression to find it steady, to find no tell, no tic to indicate that he was lying.

“Then let’s get you out of here.”

Michelle looked up as the door to the meeting room opened. Lindsay walked in, holding a bag of clothes. They wanted to give the jury the best possible impression of Michelle, and they knew from past cases that a stark orange jumpsuit wouldn’t help.

“Sorry if they’re not quite right. I guessed you’d be about my size.”

She shook her head, seemingly pleased by the mere thought of wearing something different. “They're fine, thank you.”

She proceeded to get changed, and when she turned around, Lindsay felt like she was looking at a different person. It had been so hard for her to connect the images of Michelle from her file with how she looked now. She'd appeared so courageous and strong in everything she did, in stark comparison to how defeated she'd looked in the prison uniform.

“We’ve got about ten minutes before court starts so we can go over a few things again. Bobby’s running over his closing with Eugene and Jimmy in the other room. I think Jack wanted to help them.”

Michelle nodded, taking a seat across from her.

“Just remember that they could bring up anything and try and spin it. Old CTU cases -- that is, the declassified ones -- Tony’s treason sentence, probably your divorce.” Michelle grimaced a little. “But stick with the truth, no matter what. Don’t give unnecessary details if you feel like they won’t help. And if you need to cry, it’s okay. It’s important that the jury realises just how much you’ve lost.”

“It was hard enough testifying for Tony’s trial all those years ago, I hated every second of it.” She said worriedly. “I just felt like everybody was staring at me, trying to make me feel guilty for what he’d done.”

“It’s not easy.” Lindsay agreed. “But the fact is, it’s your story, so if you tell it right, the jury will be on your side.”

There was a nervous look in her eyes as she stared into her lap. Lindsay realised it was the first time Michelle had shown that much emotion. Yes, she'd been angry when Jack had come to see her, but it was clear now that that had been a mask for her fear.

“Hey,” She said, causing her to lift her head and face her. “If you can do all the things I saw in your file, then you can do this.”

They continued to run through the expected questions until Michelle felt more and more confident in her response. But afterwards, Michelle just needed a moment to breathe, take in what was about to happen, and let it sink in that this was the day that could change everything for the worse or the better. She noticed Lindsay seemed to be looking through things as well. Bobby would be the first chair, but Lindsay would be next to him to make sure he stayed on track and didn’t forget anything. Lindsay didn’t seem anxious, understandably not wanting to give her, their client, the impression that she was, but Michelle noticed she was fiddling almost habitually with her wedding band.

“How long have you and Bobby been married?” Michelle asked.

“How did you know we were?…”

“The rings. That and the way you two look at each other.” She laughed through her nose. “I guess you could say working at CTU has made me observant.”

Her finger stopped moving the ring, and the corners of her mouth turned up a little. “We just celebrated our first anniversary.”

Michelle nodded, a slightly nostalgic look in her eyes. “Do you guys find it okay working together?”

She shrugged. “Most of the time. We had to keep it secret for a long time. I just worried about having to prove myself, you know? I didn’t want the others to think Bobby was giving me any special treatment.”

“I understand. It was the same with us, too. I dealt with a lot of scrutiny when Tony made me his second-in-command. But they all shut up eventually.” She sighed. “It’s good in a lot of ways, spending time with each other, stressing about the same things together, always being able to understand. In our case… if one of us got hurt in the field, the other knew about it straight away and was first to the hospital. We did work together well. It helps when you know someone like that. We always knew what the other was thinking even before they said it.”

“Of course, when you disagree on something…it often ends up being a work argument and a home argument.”

“Yeah.” Michelle agreed. “Had plenty of those. The last one I remember having was…” Her face fell. “The day he went to prison, actually. He’d kept all the details of Jack being undercover hidden from me. It was a high-profile mission, so I understood it from that perspective. I think it just… scared me. The idea that he could hide something like that from me and I wouldn't suspect a thing. Of course, we never got the chance to discuss it. I went to the site of the outbreak, then one thing led to another, and…” She wiped under her eyes.

“When I read all that for the first time…” Lindsay said earnestly. “I couldn’t believe it. It didn’t sound real. It was just one horrible thing after another. I’m… I’m so sorry for what you’ve had to go through. But I promise you we’re going to do everything we can. You don’t deserve any more suffering.”

“Thank you.” She replied, pressing her lips into a thin line before looking up. “I hope you and Bobby never have to choose between your job and each other the way we did.”

“Me too,” Lindsay said quietly. The fact that Tony and Michelle had both been forced to choose between their jobs and each other was a terrifying wake-up call for Lindsay. It was too easy to picture the situation with Bobby and herself. She had to wonder what choice he would make, what choice she would make. Would she ever be able to put a client’s well-being above his? Would he do the same?

Suddenly, the door opened, and they turned to find Jack and Bobby standing there.

“It’s time,” Bobby said.

Lindsay was first out the door, Bobby guiding her with a hand on her lower back. Jack outstretched his hand to Michelle, and in that moment, she pulled him in tightly for a hug, the fear overtaking her completely.

“Jack…” She whispered. “Please get me out of there.”

He squeezed her back, the words echoing in his mind, threatening to haunt him forever, which told him one thing and one thing only.

They had to win.

The prosecutor, Adam Kimble, had gone straight in with the questions, bringing up details of the day, making her testify about what had happened and picking apart every excruciating detail. Jack didn’t usually like lawyers, having mainly been on the wrong side of them when a few confidential CTU cases had been leaked. He’d had to justify this and testify to that, being oh so careful not to implicate himself or anybody else for any crimes. The investigation following Teri’s death came to mind, too. All that attention on him, the judgement, the debating over what he could have, what he should have figured out. So when Kimble had entered the courtroom, when Jack first laid eyes on him, he had tried to gauge his character and see what kind of lawyer he was. He'd wanted to see if he could do something to assuage the fear that they weren’t going to free Michelle. But when Kimble had flashed a slight sneer, a pit formed in Jack’s stomach.

Right now, the delivery of Michelle’s testimony reminded Jack of an interrogation. It was the relentless way he continued to press her but not too much, not ever going far enough to allow Bobby to raise an objection, just far enough to stress her out. But Michelle was strong. She kept a stern face; there was a fight within her. It relieved Jack to see that she was just as determined as he was. With time, with every subsequent painful question, that fight slowly started to fade, but not visibly. But the more Kimble brought up Tony, the more he brought up their past, the more it felt like he was trying to suffocate her with memories and pain.

“I can’t help but find this whole situation a little ironic. Your husband went for treason because he wanted to save your life. He nominated to put your life over hundreds of innocent people. Then he dies, and you decide to do the same thing. You saw it fit to take revenge-”

“It wasn’t like that.” Michelle defended.

He smirked. “See, you say that. You claim it had nothing to do with that, but surely you were at least a little angry at the government?” His tone was condescending, talking down to her like he’d already guaranteed she’d be guilty. “After all those years of duty, of service, to sit there and be told the man who murdered your husband, your friends, your unborn child.”

Bobby had had enough. He knew this game. Kimble wanted to make her snap, make her angry, so the jury had something to picture. He aimed to portray her as an angry, hysterical woman who cared only about her husband. “Objection! She was there. She knows what happened.”

“Sustained.” The judge replied. “Mr. Kimble, get to the point.”

“Why did you leave CTU, Ms. Dessler?”

“It was a mutual decision between my husband and I.”

“So you left CTU because of Tony. I’m surprised. Given your record, you were easily on track to work through the ranks, maybe even end up at Langley. It seems he had a lot of influence on you.”

Michelle furrowed her brow. What was he getting at?

“Did you perhaps resent him for it? Feel guilty like maybe if you’d stayed at CTU, you could have prevented the Sentox attacks?”

“I don’t regret my decision,” Michelle said. “I’d worked for the government for over a decade. There were plenty of capable agents to take my place.”

“So what exactly was going through your mind when you went after Henderson?”

Michelle huffed. “I wasn’t ‘going after’ him. He was using the vulnerable state of CTU to his advantage so he could escape. I had to stop him, but I had no intention of killing him.”

“Then why did you take the weapon from the security guard already chasing him?”

She shrugged. “I knew we were approaching a fork in the room structure. I was protecting myself. I didn’t know whether he’d taken a weapon with him or just ran.”

“Fine then. Your instinct took over. You found him. You had him cornered at gunpoint. Then why’d you shoot him?”

She was growing frustrated, her nails digging into the wood of the witness stand. “It was the heat of the moment. I was upset. I’d only just managed to catch up with him. I was thinking about the Sentox-”

“Oh! So you did acknowledge the attacks. In which case, you actively chose to think about revenge-”

“No!” Michelle shouted, feeling tears well in the corners of her eyes. “It wasn’t like that! For a split second, I was just angry. I was upset. But I had no intention of killing him. If I had known CTU had no other information, I wouldn’t have-”

“See, I don’t believe that. You’re a smart woman and a former federal agent. I think you damn well knew that Henderson was the only lead.”

“That’s not!-”

Kimble raised his voice. “You were worried they were going to let him go. You took your opportunity, you gladly took the gun off the security guard, and you went for the kill-”

“Objection!” Bobby roared. “He’s badgering my client!”

“Sustained!”

“No further questions,” Kimble said coolly. He’d done what he needed to do. Make Michelle look emotional, make her look volatile, and plant the idea in the jury’s head that she was capable of scheming for revenge.

Her heart was thundering in her chest. This was exactly how Tony’s trial had gone. When she’d tried to make her point, the prosecutor had cut her off at every opportunity. He'd set out to ensure whatever chance she had of helping Tony’s case was quashed.

“So, Ms. Dessler. Do you agree your husband shouldn’t have prioritised you by letting Saunders go?”

What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Yes, she agreed, from a logical standpoint. But if she said as much, she would be condemning him. She would be siding with the prosecution. If she said no, her own integrity would be destroyed, and she would simply sound like the selfish, emotional wife the media was already depicting. She was damned either way. Her head started to swim with thoughts of possible outcomes. She didn’t know what to think, let alone what to say. There was too much going on in her head. She remembered what Tony’s lawyer had told her to do if she was feeling stuck like she didn’t know what to say without worrying about incriminating either of them further.

“Answer the question!” He barked.

“I…” Michelle struggled to get ahold of her breathing. She gripped the edge of the stand, trying to stabilise herself and keep her composure. She couldn’t do this. She felt like a coward, like a fool, just as she had when Saunders had taken her. But right now, there was no other option.“I plead the fifth.” 

Out of the corner of her blurred vision, she saw the sympathetic but still slightly disappointed look Tony gave her, an image that she knew would be ingrained in her mind forever.

She felt the room start to spin. Every breath she took got caught in her throat. She realised that not eating this morning because of her nerves had been a bad idea. Jimmy yelled at Kimble from the gallery. Michelle recognised this as a panic attack; she hadn't had one in years. The judge banged his gavel, calling for order and a five-minute recess. The last thing she heard before passing out was Jack worriedly calling her name.

Michelle came to in what looked like a small sick bay. There was something cold and wet against the side of her head. Gingerly, she felt the slight bump there, under the ice pack. As her vision cleared, she noticed Eugene and Lindsay sitting beside her. She groaned a little, the harsh downlight shining directly into her eyes.

“Feeling okay?” Lindsay asked.

Michelle nodded slowly. She furrowed her brow as she peered around. “Where’s…?”

“Jack’s testifying now,” Eugene answered. “Usually, they like having the defendant in there, but given the circumstance was medical, the judge let Bobby keep going. And Jack was the whole reason we got an appeal anyway, so the judge didn’t want to delay the proceedings any further. We wanted to try and undo some of the damage before the jury could think about it too much. ”

Her head fell back against the pillow, her eyes squeezing shut. The memories of testifying started coming back to her. “I fucked it up.” She whispered. 

“No.” Lindsay said firmly. “He was way out of line. Anybody could see that. You didn’t say anything to incriminate yourself. This is just part of the battle.”

She shook her head, turning to face her. “But I didn’t defend myself either.”

Lindsay grabbed her hand. “That’s not your job, it's ours.”

Michelle met her eyes, offering her a small smile. “Where’s Jimmy?”

“In contempt.” Eugene rolled his eyes. “He couldn’t keep his mouth shut and called Kimble a bunch of names. All of which he deserved. But don’t worry. Not the first time one of us has ended up there.”

“Or the last, I’m sure,” Lindsay added.

A bailiff opened the door with a creak. “Ms. Dessler, you’re due for your cross-examination.”

“We’ll be out in a minute.”

Slowly, Michelle sat up, drinking from the glass of water beside her, before standing and straightening her skirt. 

“It’ll be okay,” Lindsay said reassuringly. “Bobby won't press you for information or force you to answer quickly. Now, this is just about your perspective. He'll only ask what we’ve practised. You can do this.”

Still, there was a sense of fear in her expression. Being on the witness stand was no easy task, especially given that her previous experience had been at such high stakes. And Lindsay had to do everything in her power to help assuage that, to help Michelle be in control when she testified. She had to help her fight. There’d been a change since they’d first met. Initially, Michelle had been blasé, not caring about the plan, just objecting strongly to cutting a deal that would make her more miserable. She'd only gone along for the sake of the people fighting for her: Jack, Bill, and her family. But, as the trial had drawn closer, as they’d found more and more hope that they could win this, a fire within Michelle had slowly grown. Now, Lindsay knew there was no doubt Michelle wanted to go for a ‘not guilty’, no doubt that she wanted to fight for her freedom, no doubt that she knew she deserved it. 

They just had to make sure the jury saw it that way, too.

“Lindsay, why don’t you take the cross?” Eugene suggested. “I think it’ll be easier for Michelle since you’ve practised more together.” 

Eugene had noticed since their first meeting that Lindsay had been the best at getting Michelle to open up. Out of the four of them, Lindsay was the only one with whom Michelle had somewhat let her walls down. And while every lawyer knew to never let themselves get too emotionally invested in a client, Eugene knew that Lindsay saw herself in Michelle, saw the similarities, the fact that she had grappled with the balance between her career and her husband, and that just hit too close to home for her. Eugene knew they had to take advantage of that connection since Michelle had few supporters left. Bill was in the gallery, but she’d drawn the line at her brother and father. She’d insisted that she just couldn’t face them or let them throw her off. Right now, they were simply reminders of the other important person in her life she’d lost, her mother. They’d thankfully respected that, but still, Michelle needed someone to be vulnerable around, someone who understood her but wasn’t so intricately involved in the case that they dredged up painful memories for her.

“Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.” She met Michelle’s eyes, finding confirmation there. “Bobby’s mostly been using my notes anyway.”

As they walked back in and court resumed, Michelle tried to focus on her breathing, focus on herself, not on Kimble or anybody in the gallery. She just had to pretend they were in the holding room again and that it was only her and the lawyers, that it was simply a recount of what had happened. Simply an affirmation of her innocence. Michelle watched Lindsay and Bobby quietly exchange notes, noticed the little glances they gave each other, the way Bobby mouthed 'good luck' to her, the other communication between them in a wordless language only they could understand. It made her heart twinge, reminding her so much of the way she and Tony used to work together so effectively. She had to remind herself that if she got out... Tony still wouldn’t be there. He wasn’t waiting and working at CTU for her like she had been for him. Seeing Lindsay and Bobby reminded her now more than ever that Tony was gone. 

But, she fought back the tears welling in the corner of her eyes because now the judge had banged his gavel, and the gallery was silent.

“Ms. Dessler, I think we should start by clearing a few details about how this all took place. The victim was in the medical ward with you. How did he escape?”

“He was faking unconsciousness. When the doctor came near him, he attacked him, then ran off.”

Lindsay nodded. “And you followed him? Can you explain why you did that?”

She shrugged. “Instinct, I think. I knew what Henderson had done and that he had information about the Sentox attacks. I didn’t want him to get away. I… I wanted to help.”

“And you made this clear, right? After all, the security guard Henderson had disarmed gave you his gun. He wouldn’t have done that if he thought you were unstable.”

“I had a feeling I knew where he was going," Michelle explained. "I knew the structure of CTU inside and out, including any hidden or alternate pathways.”

“So what happened when you caught up with him?”

Michelle shifted in her seat a little. “I drew my weapon since I didn’t know if he’d armed himself. Then…” Her eyes closed as she took in a breath. “Then I started to process everything that had happened. It hit me who this man was and what he had done. I…” She tried to take a breath again, but it got caught in her throat.

“Take your time,” Lindsay said calmly. “I know this must be incredibly difficult for you.”

“I was upset. I started to think about how the reason I would never see my husband, never hold my son, never see two people I care very much about again, the reason hundreds of people were dead, was him.” Her voice was heavy with emotion, with the grief and pain weighing down her soul. “But I didn’t want to kill him. I never wanted to kill him. I just wanted justice to be served. I didn’t mean what I said to Jack. I knew I could never go through with it. But the next thing I knew, my finger slipped and…” She shook her head, disappointed in herself. “If I’d known he was the only lead CTU had, I…”

“But, really, nobody could have known that, right? Just because CTU couldn't find a lead in time for the remaining canisters to be released... that doesn't mean a lead didn’t exist.” She cleared her throat. 

This was it. This was the evidence that would make it abundantly clear that Michelle had not committed treason and disgraced her country because more could have been done to prevent the eight other Sentox attacks. 

“I have here security camera footage of a man named Richard Ester, who was seen leaving the Sunrise Hills Mall just minutes before the Sentox was released that day. He also worked at Omicron International. There was increased email correspondence between him and the victim in the days leading up to the attack. Clearly, Ester knew something about these attacks.” Lindsay hardened her voice. “Meaning that even though my client may have prevented further interrogation of Henderson, it was still possible for CTU to have prevented the release of more Sentox. So she is not to blame.” She turned to face the gallery. “Michelle Dessler is not the cause of these attacks.”

Kimble had been silent throughout, not able to dispute what Michelle had said so far nor able to criticise Lindsay’s cross-examination. It had been a good sign; it indicated that the people were listening to her, maybe even siding with her. After all, if the prosecution couldn’t find fault with what she was saying, why should they? But when Lindsay heard Kimble object, with a jarring, almost mean voice, it shattered the rising hope within her, Michelle, Bobby, Jack and everybody else fighting for Michelle’s freedom.

“You tell a good story, Ms. Dole. But that’s just it, a story.”

Lindsay’s jaw twitched as she whipped her head around and saw the sneer Kimble was flashing her.

“What do you mean?”

“Because Richard Ester was found dead twelve hours after that security camera footage. This means CTU couldn’t have questioned him about the remaining canisters. In which case… your client did, in fact, kill the only lead on the Sentox attacks.” He turned to face the jury. “Don’t let this attorney fool you with her sob story. Ms. Dessler still committed murder. Thousands more innocent people because all she could think about was her personal gain.”

Whatever sense of ease Michelle had just been starting to feel had dissipated. All that hard work, the articulation of her speech, the critical order in which Lindsay had asked the questions: none of it mattered now. There was no solid evidence. Their case was merely a sympathetic one. And the jury couldn’t use that to make their decision. 

“This is unfair surprise.” Bobby stood from his chair, shouting. “We were never informed of this in discovery.”

“Withdraw your statement, Kimble. This is not admissible as evidence." The judge agreed. "And I’ll see you in chambers next recess.”

People started murmuring in the gallery, initially quiet, but quickly grew louder, chaotic, doubtful. They didn’t know what to make of this mess. But as it stood, Kimble had the evidence and the facts. Even if they technically weren't supposed to use it to influence their decision as it wasn't permissible evidence, it would still be part of their subconscious thought process. All Bobby and Lindsay had was a plea for the jury to understand and have a heart. Lindsay looked at Michelle, no longer able to hide her worry. Bobby and Eugene shared a glance before desperately trying to search through their notes and see if they had anything that could salvage their case. But as the people continued to chatter and debate amongst themselves, no matter how much the judge called for order, they too felt panic set in.

“I can prove that Christopher Henderson wasn’t the only person with information about the Sentox attacks.” A voice abruptly sounded from the gallery. The woman was a little shaky but still strong enough to cause all to fall silent.

Jack's eyes widened as he turned to the woman standing at the back of the gallery. Voices began to murmur again, but the judge silenced them with his gavel.

“Ma’am, state your name for the court.” She asked firmly.

She cleared her throat. “My name is Miriam. Miriam Henderson. I’m the wife of the victim.” 

Against both the defence and prosecution's wishes, the judge only gave them a five-minute recess to prepare themselves. He wanted to waste no time having Miriam sworn in as a witness. There had been enough delays as it was. He was growing tired of the proceedings, so he wanted both sides to wrap things up. Once it was in the jury's hands, it could take hours, days, or even weeks to deliberate. But the judge only needed to be there for the verdict, so as far as he was concerned, he just wanted to get to the closing statements.

“Ms. Henderson, on the record, please repeat what you stated from the gallery,” Kimble asked sternly.

“I said…” She gulped, feeling his eyes, along with those of everybody else in the room, bore into her. “I said I can prove somebody other than Christopher Henderson could have given CTU information about the Sentox attacks.”

“Why didn’t you speak up earlier?” He raised his voice. “Ms. Henderson, you realise you are admitting to an obstruction of justice.”

She huffed. “Y-Yes. I’m aware of that-”

Kimble slammed his hand on the desk. “Then who was this mystery person? Are you protecting them? Is that why-”

“It was me!” Miriam shouted, causing a few people in the gallery to gasp. “I… I knew about the attacks before they happened.”

“So, you’re an accomplice?”

Miriam shook her head vehemently. “N-No. Not at all. I was repulsed by what he did. I just… I didn’t know for sure what he was planning until it was too late. And by then, I was too scared. I was too scared to come forward if it meant being labelled an accomplice.” She looked over at Michelle, who tilted her head slightly in confusion. They had never met or spoken to each other; they likely only knew each other as names on paper. “But not anymore. Because Ms. Dessler shouldn’t be punished for something I was too naive to stop.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that I shouldn't have given my husband the benefit of the doubt. The night before the attacks started… I… I had heard him talking on the phone. I usually never paid much attention to his work. But Christopher had been locking himself in his office as soon as he came home. He had been acting different and very... secretive. I tried to ask him about it, but he had also been agitated, snapping at me for no reason. He kept telling me he was just stressed and that it was none of my business.” She grimaced, looking away from Kimble. “At some point… I happened to be tidying something up in the office while he was out. I… started looking through the recent files on his computer. There were blueprints for a canister. I saw descriptions of what looked like reports of a clinical trial. The symptoms of the test subjects being described were horrific. It made no sense. I couldn’t understand why he would be interested in this sort of thing or how it could be related to his work.” Her lips pressed into a thin line. “But by the time the next day came around, when I saw the news, when Jack Bauer came to have him arrested, I slowly started to realise just how involved he was.”

Kimble sighed, shaking his head, seeming at a total loss. The realisation that every argument he’d made about Michelle being the sole cause for the attacks was slowly falling apart slowly crept across his face. He did a good job hiding it, but Bobby could tell he was sweating bullets. He, too, was deep in thought. While he had initially been angry that Miriam had withheld such vital information, and more importantly, information that supported their case, upon seeing how afraid she had been to come forward, how much guilt she had been carrying, it had suddenly made him realise that they still had a shot at a 'not guilty'. There was now somebody else to blame. However, Bobby didn't want to condemn Miriam so harshly; he was already thinking about assigning someone else from the firm or looking for a California lawyer to take her case. After all, if Michelle was found innocent, double jeopardy meant nobody could use her in Miriam’s trial. But in any case, there was hope.

“So why didn’t you come forward initially?”

“I told you… I was afraid. I-I had wanted to tell the FBI. They had already been asking me questions about Henderson, but once I heard that Michelle had been given the death penalty, I... I lied and told them I had had no idea what he'd been up to." She wiped a tear away, looking incredibly ashamed. "But the guilt has been eating away at me ever since." She implored. "I haven't slept peacefully at all over these last two years. I distanced myself from everybody I knew. I have felt nothing but selfish and cowardly. All I could think about was how Michelle was suffering so much, how she was braver than I could ever be, and yet, was being punished for it. I... Even if I had the chance to do this over, I don't think I ever would have had the courage to face my husband and try to stop him." She took a breath. "So when I found out about the retrial, I… I knew I had to suck it up and say something. I knew it was the only thing I could do to make this right.”

Again, Miriam looked over at Michelle, who simply stared back in disbelief, her mouth slightly agape. Jack was behind her, looking equally as incredulous. Bobby, Eugene, and Lindsay were quietly talking together, trying to think of more specific details they could get out of Miriam, anything else to help push their case over the finish line.

Kimble nodded. “Ms. Henderson, you understand you are confessing to obstruction of justice and treason against the United States of America. You knowingly possessed information about an instance of domestic terrorism and failed to provide this information to the relevant authorities.”

“Yes." She gulped. "I understand.”

He let out a long exhale. “No further questions.”

“Does the defence have anything to add?” The judge asked. “If not, Ms. Henderson will be taken into custody.”

The lawyers looked at each other, confirming they had what they needed and there was no need to argue further.

“No, Your Honour,” Bobby stated. “The defence rests its case.”

Despite having lost a huge point of argument over Michelle’s treason charge, Kimble still delivered a strong closer. He made it clear that at the end of the day, the jury had to decide whether Michelle betrayed this country and whether she committed murder. He reminded the jury that the bullets that killed Henderson had come from a gun that Michelle had held in her hand, and fired. There was no room for debate about that. She shot Christopher Henderson, and he died as a result. Kimble warned them not to fall for any sympathetic story Bobby might try and weave, that they had to make this decision based on logic and facts alone, not emotion. Many lives had been lost, many American lives across the country in eight distinct, gruesome releases of Sentox. All because of the death of Christopher Henderson. The jury could not forget that.

But still, Bobby could turn it around and make sure the jury understood exactly what had gone down so they could see Michelle for who she truly was. Kimble had portrayed her as selfish, impulsive, and ignorant of her duties. But that simply was not true. Furthermore, there was no longer a ‘sole’ person who could have given information about the attacks. Miriam’s testimony was there for them to use. He felt no guilt in exploiting that because, at the end of the day, it was his job to save his client, and he had to use everything at his disposal to do so. The consequences would be dire if he didn’t. It wasn’t often he defended clients on death row, so it made it all the more important that he did everything he could.

Bobby stood, releasing a breath, and moving closer to where the jury was.

“Two years ago, my client awoke to the news of David Palmer's assassination. He was beloved by many Americans, but to my client, he was also the man who helped free her husband from a prison sentence he didn’t deserve. Just a few minutes later, she received a call informing her that one of her friends, Chloe O’Brian, who had also served this country alongside her, had been murdered. And before she could even process the shock of that, before she could even step outside, the bomb that had been planted in her car detonated. It killed her husband instantly, and her own injuries were severe enough to induce miscarriage.”

Michelle fought back tears as Bobby started to speak with such solemnity. She could still remember each moment so clearly, with vivid images and soundscapes that would haunt her forever. Jack could, too. The phone call Michelle had attempted to make to him to tell him about Chloe cut off so abruptly by the sound of glass shattering. The churning sense of foreboding that had followed. It made it painfully apparent to each of them that with everything they’d both been through the last two years, they really hadn’t processed it and faced their grief. But when he placed his hand over hers and met her eyes, Jack silently communicated that if she walked out of here today a free person, he would be there for her. When she squeezed it back, he knew she would do the same.

“All of this was orchestrated by a man named Christopher Henderson.” Bobby hardened his voice. “A man who took advantage of his intimate knowledge of government defence departments to inflict destruction on not just my client but also this country. He attacked this country in twelve separate instances. We all remember hearing about them. We all remember seeing the images of bodies upon bodies being carried out of buildings on the news. I’m sure we all wish those attacks could have been prevented. And the fact is they could have. Not just by one person, as the prosecution has argued, but multiple.”

Miriam Henderson had already been escorted from the room, so at least neither Michelle nor Jack would have to look at her while Bobby condemned her. They had no words for what she had done. On one hand, she had given strong evidence to affirm Michelle’s innocence, but at what cost? Michelle didn’t like the idea of Miriam going to jail for simply suspecting something was up with her husband but not saying anything about it. It made sense why she’d taken so long to come forward. That being said, it also wasn’t fair that Michelle had suffered unnecessarily in the meantime.

“Yes, my client shot Christopher Henderson. He was a source of information about the Sentox attacks. But had his wife simply reported her suspicions to the authorities, they could have been stopped in time. Mind you, she could have easily done so. After all, her husband was once the director of CTU Los Angeles, so it’s unlikely she wouldn’t have a connection, a friend, a trusted person to go to. Or at least some of them.” He pointed at Kimble. “The prosecution has chastised my client for not knowing better. He took advantage of the fact that Ms. Dessler was once a federal agent and used that to hold her to higher standards. People of the jury, let me remind you that she was not an active agent, so she was not obligated to find a lead for the Sentox attacks. Yet, because she is a good person, she pushed against her own pain to chase him down and ensure he didn’t get away.”

There was a clutch in Michelle’s chest as Bobby spoke about her, what she deserved, what was right, and what was wrong. She'd felt undeserving of wishing for her freedom because part of her had felt so guilty for what had happened because of Henderson’s death. But now she truly felt she could let that go, that she was wrong to think that of herself.

“She came face-to-face with the man who took everything away from her. She had a gun in her hands, pointed at the ready. Had Ms. Dessler truly wanted to kill Henderson, had she truly wanted to get revenge, she would not have hesitated. She would have fired once into the victim’s skull." He shook his head." But that’s not what happened. Her finger slipped. Her hand trembled. My client was conflicted because murder was not her intention. She was understandably emotional. She was in a position that did not allow her to make rational decisions because her heart was screaming at her, telling her that the man responsible for all of her pain and suffering was standing right there with nothing but a smug grin on his face.”

The conviction in Bobby’s voice made Michelle feel things were looking up. The jury was unreadable, but she felt moved by his words. She was convinced that a second chance did exist, that Bill was right, that some part of the government would let her return to active status. Because that was the only way she could see herself making something of the remainder of her life. She could surround herself with the people she cared about and who cared about her and hold them tight, but at the same time, not let that stop her from doing anything and everything she had to do to protect this country, to make sure what happened to her never happened to anybody else.

“Maybe you still feel like all of this is wrong. Maybe you still feel like my client should pay for what happened. But my client doesn't need to die or spend more time in jail to do so. Let her be of use. Let her work for CTU, or the FBI or whatever department of the government defence sector she wishes so she can make it up to you this way.” His voice fell to a harsh whisper. “Let Ms. Dessler do what she does best as an upstanding agent, to atone for her mistake. But let me finish with this as a reminder. All this was, was a mistake made in the heat of the moment. A decision made by her heart and not by her mind.”

Silence followed the end of the closing statement, as expected. Bobby sat back in his seat, and the judge called for the jury to leave so they could deliberate matters. They returned to their allocated meeting room next to the courtroom, where they’d been before the trial. It was well into the afternoon by this point.

“How long does this usually take?” Jack asked. From his experience, the only trial he had seen in detail was Tony’s all those years ago. That, and Nina’s, but he’d blocked most of that out. The jury had taken several hours. It was something that had been so agonising to wait around for. He had a feeling today would be no different. 

Eugene shrugged. “There’s no telling. Some cases take no more than ten minutes. Others, usually ones like these… could take a few hours. Days, even. They might bring you back to prison while we wait, Michelle.”

Michelle bit her lip. She didn’t want to go back. For the first time in so long, she actually felt hopeful that something good could come out of this. She wasn’t going to wait in her cell. She was going to stay here as long as she could to be with the people who all wanted the same outcome.

“We can hold out,” Lindsay said. “None of us are going anywhere. We’re staying here until they force you to leave.”

Sighing, she thanked her.

Exhaustion was rife within all of them. The longest part of the journey was over now. Bobby, Lindsay, and Eugene had fought with everything they’d had against Kimble, against all the evidence thrown at them. 

Now, all they had to do was wait.

As they suspected, it was well into the night when the bailiff knocked on the door and informed them that the jury had returned with their verdict. 

Jimmy thanked him. By this point, he had been released from the holding cell at the back of the court, having been issued a hefty fine for his contempt charge. It wasn’t like Boston, where they at least knew the local law enforcement and bailiffs well enough to be able to negotiate their way out of things like this. Eugene had made it clear the money to pay the fine would be coming out of Jimmy’s pocket, not the firm’s. Jimmy had argued the trip hadn’t cost them a penny since Bill had paid for their flights and accommodation, so the firm could afford to. Their brief argument had made for some form of entertainment at least. Bill had also popped in while they were waiting to confirm that, if all went well, she would have a job waiting for her at CTU, much to her relief.  

The rest of the time was spent quietly sitting there, listening to the sounds of each other’s breathing, eating snack after snack from the vending machine in the hallway, or at least trying to (nobody had much of an appetite). There was nothing to discuss and certainly nothing about the trial. There was no going back now. It was done.

But the calm, patient contentment within Michelle dissipated upon hearing the bailiff’s words. Everything had been leading up to this. The moment of truth, the moment that absolutely terrified her, was upon them.

They walked back to find no more daylight from the windows in the courtroom before taking their seats at the defence bench. The judge and all of the jury members looked exhausted. Those who’d remained in the gallery did as well. One of the women from the jury stood, giving a folded piece of paper to the judge, who simply nodded. His expression was understandably neutral.

“Madam Foreperson, has the jury reached its verdict?” He asked.

“We have.” She confirmed, looking at him before looking at the prosecution and then the defence.

Jack attempted to read her gaze for any kind of tell but found his efforts futile. No amount of CTU training could help them now. Right now, all that mattered was the decision these twelve strangers had made; they could only hope it had been made from the right place.

“The defendant will please rise.” 

Michelle’s knees wobbled as she stood. She felt her heart hammer away in her chest, felt every attempt at an inhale catch in her throat. Her hands shook on the table. Jack clasped it in his, meeting her eyes and seeing nothing but fear. He didn’t bother trying to hide his. He was scared, too. Lindsay took the other, knowing she needed all the support she could get right now, knowing now was not a time she could afford to feel alone. The members of the defence simply looked between them, silently acknowledging the emotions building within them.

“What say you, Madam Foreperson?”

“In the matter of Commonwealth versus Michelle Dessler, on the count of treason against the United States of America, we find the defendant, Michelle Dessler… not guilty.”

Jack let out a breath involuntarily. That was one charge. That was the thing that was going to kill her. She was going to make it out of this alive. But still, he couldn’t let himself be relieved yet because he had to know whether she’d be given the chance to make up for the time lost.

“On the count of murder in the first degree, we find the defendant, Michelle Dessler… not guilty.”

Another stifled sigh left him, another sign of a positive outcome.

“On the count of murder in the second degree, we find the defendant, Michelle Dessler… not guilty.”

“Members of the jury, this court thanks you for your service, which is now concluded. This matter is adjourned. The defendant is free to go.”

Michelle let out all the air in her lungs, the words of the judge sounding far away. She didn’t know if she’d heard it correctly, too fixated on holding herself together. But as Jack took her in his arms, as she heard him whisper ‘thank God’ in her ear, relief began to flood her body. It was an unfamiliar but not unwelcome sensation. There was hope, there was joy, there was relief. It was all over now. As she processed the news and fully understood the meaning of the foreperson’s words, she squeezed Jack back tighter. 

Pulling back and turning to face Lindsay, she looked equally pleased, as did the other lawyers.

“Thank you… all of you… thank you for taking my case.” She said, still in disbelief, with tears welling in her eyes.

“You’re welcome,” Bobby said earnestly. “I’m glad we could help.”

“It’s a shame, uh… I hate to bring it up.” Jimmy started. “But this whole thing makes me wonder whether we could have done the same for your husband and made sure he never gone to jail either.”

She sighed. “I’m sure you could have.” The words weren’t just empty; they turned around a nearly impossible case for her and gave the court what was necessary for her to walk free. They could have easily done the same for Tony. It was scary to think that just one choice could affect so many things. If Tony hadn't gone to prison... things could have been very different. Most critically, she would like to think they would both be alive today, perhaps with the children they wanted. She was deeply grateful Jack had found this firm and that she hadn’t been stubborn enough to turn them away. If only she’d known to go with them for Tony’s case. 

“For now, though, congratulations on your freedom,” Lindsay said.

Eugene met her eyes. “After everything you’ve been through, you deserve it, Michelle.” 

They proceeded to sign themselves out of court and fill out the final paperwork. There was something so surreal about seeing in writing that she was innocent. Michelle remembered how much it had affected Tony when he had been released, but only now did she truly understand. When the final nuances were over, they stepped outside, and Michelle took a moment to inhale the fresh air outside the courthouse. She admired the night sky; it was something she hadn’t seen in its entirety for over two years. It hit her that there would be no more handcuffs placed on her wrists, no more orange jumpsuit, and no more days of despair.

She had her life back. She was free.

It didn’t surprise him that she was quiet on the drive home. Jack knew that to even just see the sun peak over the horizon, to see familiar sights and streets, to see cars moving and bright lights, was a lot for her to take in. So he didn’t probe her.

After all the court proceedings were well and truly over, and the jail signed her out, returning the few belongings she’d come in with, it'd ended up being early morning. Michelle’s father and brother were already at her house waiting. As it turned out, her father had continued to maintain and pay the mortgage on her and Tony’s house, his belief that she would one day be able to return so strong, even as the execution date had drawn nearer. Her brother had also taken care of their dog, a German shepherd named Major; he had been an anniversary gift to her from Tony. Her brother had done so before when she’d moved to Seattle after Tony had gone to prison. But before she could start what was sure to be a lengthy process of settling into regular life again, Michelle knew there was something she needed to do first.

“Can you… can you take me somewhere first?” She asked quietly.

“Anything,” Jack said earnestly. He was still processing the whole situation himself. It had only been about a week since he’d returned from China. So much had happened, so much had almost happened. But things were okay now.

Michelle took in a deep breath. “The… the cemetery. I want to see him. Chloe, too.”

She sounded unsure of herself, scared of the implications of that. It wouldn’t be easy, especially given how much she was already processing. Jack didn’t want her to rush into dealing with the grief, which he knew all too well was a painful, often slow, experience. He wanted her to have today to be happy that she was free.

“Are you sure you want to do this today?” 

“I need to.” She whispered, meeting his eyes.

He nodded. He understood why. Michelle had never even been able to go to the funerals. It would be the first physical reminder of their deaths she would have to process. Him, too. After all, he’d missed out on just as much as she had. Bill had already given him the locations of their plots at CTU, knowing he would want them. 

Frankly, Jack didn’t know if he was ready to go today either. But maybe if they did it together, it wouldn’t be as hard as he thought.

Michelle said nothing as he turned off the main road to a side street that led to the cemetery. She felt as anxious as she had in the moments before the verdict was announced, heart beating rapidly, hands clammy, stomach lurching. She started to doubt whether she could do it, contemplating whether she should just cling to her happiness and relief.

As he parked the car, he simply clasped his hand over hers on the console. “It’s going to be okay.”

She bit her lip, desperately trying to believe his words.

“Chloe…” Michelle said so softly he almost couldn’t hear it. “I want to see Chloe first.”

So, he obliged. Jack already felt tears prick the back of his eyes as he read where her name was engraved. He could see Michelle was shaking, trying to fight her own emotions, the realisation of the permanency of the situation coursing through her. But Jack knew from his own experience that holding it in wouldn't do anything except make the ache in her chest grow. Gently, he placed a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to face him.

“It should have been me first. It should have been-” Michelle gasped, her breathing hiccupy.

“No.” He said as firmly as he could but instead found his voice breaking. “It wasn’t your fault, Michelle. It shouldn’t have been anyone.”

She started to cry as he embraced her. Michelle felt Jack’s tears land on her shoulder.

“You’re going to make her proud.” He whispered. Of all the possible jobs Bill had managed to secure, Michelle was signed to fill Chloe’s position at CTU Los Angeles. She was more than capable of doing it and didn't have to re-establish her networks this way. Even then, if she had been found innocent, it wouldn’t be difficult to work her way up in her career again.

It had felt like a sign to her when Bill had told her. A sign that maybe she wasn’t meant to die, that she deserved the ‘not guilty’ and had more to live for than she had initially decided for herself. Still, it wouldn't be easy. She’d been out of action as a civilian for over two years, as an agent even longer. But she was determined to give her all to CTU, make her career the focus of her life as she gradually tried to heal and maybe make space for love, for something else more personal, over time. The thought of that scared her more than anything: trying to find it in herself to connect with someone or something, knowing it could all be taken away in the blink of an eye. She had already loved and lost so much. For now, though, CTU would be enough. Her sense of duty would give her strength.

When they eventually left Chloe’s grave and made it to Tony’s, Jack wasn’t surprised when she broke down almost immediately. She buried her face in his chest, sobbing loudly, a stark, pained sound against the otherwise empty cemetery. He rubbed his hand over her back in small circles, and Michelle gripped the fabric of his shirt fiercely. No amount of words would comfort her when she was feeling the loss, the grief more intensely now than ever before. He knew that. So he simply let his own tears keep falling, too.

The sky was brighter as they left. By this point, neither of them had slept in over twenty-four hours, and that was assuming she’d slept the night before her trial, which Jack doubted. He knew right now she just needed to rest. She had her whole life ahead of her to understand, to figure out what she needed, what would be the same, what would be different, what would be hard, and what would be easy.

When they arrived at her home, the dog almost bowled her over, causing a slight smile to return to her face. Jack watched from afar as Michelle’s family greeted her. He heard her apologise to them both. Her father said it was okay, that he was just so grateful he’d be able to be there for her and that he hadn't lost his daughter to something so horrific. Michelle’s brother said similarly and affirmed he would help her with whatever she needed.

Entering the house was hard. Seeing everything so clean, so still, so quiet, with no sign of anybody else living there. Her father had preserved it well, kept it looking the way it did before that horrible morning. The photos were still there, and a few dog toys were scattered on the floor. There were no more shards of broken glass. There was no stench of burning metal and gas, no blazing inferno outside the front window. Tony’s car had been moved into the driveway, where hers had once been. She didn’t say anything. She took deep breaths and willed them not to shake. She had no energy left to react right now.

“Just get some rest, Michelle,” Jack said. “We’ll come back in a little while, okay?”

She nodded, thanking them all once again as they left.

Michelle noticed a thick CTU document on the living room table, which she deduced was the official job offer from Bill. Going into the bathroom, she took the shirt and skirt off that she’d been wearing since the trial yesterday, not wanting to wear either item ever again. When she got in the shower, she relished the hot water, decent pressure, and privacy, which she’d sorely missed. When she got out, Major trailed her, nipping at her feet as she walked to the bedroom. Again, nothing had been disturbed or moved; it was exactly how she’d left it. Michelle had never slept alone in this house before. This was the house they’d bought after getting back together; it had symbolised their new beginning. Now, it would have to be her new beginning. But as hard as she knew it would be, she was determined to make something of it, to try. Because, at the end of the day, that was all she had left to do. To try.

A memory came back to her. A memory of clutching her mother’s scarves as she slept and wearing her perfume after she’d passed away to make her feel as though she was still with her. Moving to the chest of drawers where his clothes were kept, she took one of Tony's Cubs sweatshirts and held it to her nose, taking in the faint smell that remained. She pulled her head and arms through the sweatshirt and then found one of her old pairs of pyjama pants to match. 

Pulling back the covers, she settled into her side of the bed, sighing as she looked over to find nobody on the other side. Major whined, his snout on the edge of the bed. She patted the space on the sheet beside her, and he jumped up. He licked her face, and she snickered. The dog moved back slightly, tilting his head at her. She simply stared back, scratching under his chin. Major then curled up next to her; it was like he could sense her fatigue and vulnerability. Michelle let out a long breath, pulling him closer to her.

“It’s just you and me now, but it’s going to be okay.” She whispered, kissing between his ears. “We’re going to be okay.”

Michelle woke with a start to the sound of high-pitched barking. Major was inches away from her face, nuzzling her repeatedly. She mumbled something, trying to pull away. Her brow furrowed as her vision cleared, and she came to fully.

The dog had… shrunk?

This made no sense. He wagged his tail and looked at her expectantly. Right now, she was staring at a puppy. But when she went to bed last night, he’d taken up nearly all of Tony’s side.

Speaking of.

It was about eight in the morning when Jack had taken her back home after the cemetery. Glancing at the clock, it was about seven, the sunlight shining through the window. She swore she’d shut the curtains. And more than that, she certainly hadn’t felt like she’d slept nearly twenty-four hours. Maybe the clock was just wrong. After all, the date seemed to be off as well. She didn't expect her dad and brother to have taken care of such a small detail like that. But still, as a very small Major fidgeted in her lap while she sat up, something deep down told her there was nothing wrong with the clock. 

As she looked around her, Michelle realised that something else, something much more significant, was off. The room itself. This was not the bedroom she’d fallen asleep in last night. But it wasn’t unfamiliar to her. In fact, as she thought more and more carefully, she realised this was somewhere she’d been before, nearly five years ago, before she and Tony had divorced. Right now, she was in their old bedroom. Again, Michelle found an explanation in her mind; she was dreaming or going crazy. After all, it accounted for Major being so little as well. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to find her surroundings different when she woke. Nothing. Michelle pinched herself just to see if it would do something, perhaps magically transport her back to where she was supposed to be. Still, nothing.

Feeling uneasy, she stood and took familiar steps towards the bathroom to splash some water on her face. Michelle gasped when she met her reflection in the mirror. She looked… good. Way too good for someone who had been in prison for two years. While she hadn’t seen her reflection all that often in prison, she knew her hair had grown incredibly unruly and coarse. Michelle also knew there had been grey peeking through her roots, a perfectly natural sign of ageing. But right now, her hair was longer, fuller, shinier, like she’d been taking care of it the way she used to. The bags under her eyes were lighter and less noticeable. Her skin seemed to have more of a glow to it. 

Younger. She looked younger.

By this point, Michelle believed she was deluding herself and creating some fantasy in her mind. Maybe she had been executed after all, and everything that had happened was a dramatic imagining. But again, she knew that couldn’t be right. If she thought back to it, the moment of the verdict yesterday still sent a chill down her spine. Seeing Tony and Chloe’s graves had felt so real, so raw, it couldn’t have just been a vision, a thought. As Michelle continued to stare at herself, feeling her skin and hair and leaning in closer, she noticed one thing in particular that was missing. A scar on her temple from a piece of glass that had cut her when her car had exploded. It was the smallest scar on her body, but it was the only one she couldn't ignore or cover with clothing. Her eyes immediately went to it every time she caught a glimpse of herself. It wasn’t particularly noticeable to the naked eye, only if someone stood quite close to her. Again, she had to wonder whether she was simply so unadjusted to being home, to a non-uniform environment, that she was hallucinating.

There was something else she could check, though. A much larger trace of what had happened and driven her life to turmoil. Slowly, she lifted the Cubs sweater. If she was just seeing things, she should still find the array of burn scars on her chest and stomach. It was something she avoided at all costs, something she hated seeing because it made her feel permanently marred. All these years, they'd taunted her by conveying she would never be the same again; she would never move past what had happened. But seeing it now would make her awfully relieved that at least one thing hadn’t changed.

Upon finding her fair, smooth skin, Michelle let out a piercing scream, quickly moving her hand to her mouth, letting the hem of the top fall again. In the other room, Major barked back in response, running to the doorway. No different to when she’d testified, she felt herself lose control of her breathing. She looked down at her body, just in case the mirror was somehow lying to her. Nope, they were definitely not there. When she faced her reflection again, she whimpered, desperately examining herself and trying to snap herself out of what she still believed was some hallucination. But nothing changed.

“What the hell?…” She breathed.

If the scars weren’t there, then it couldn’t have happened. The car bomb never went off. But that would be insane. It would imply so many things. That Tony was alive, first and foremost. Maybe Chloe and Palmer, too. Was she still pregnant? She hadn't been in this house, but at this rate, anything was possible. But the only way for this to make sense was if she’d travelled back in time or woken up in some bizarre parallel universe. She couldn’t even believe these were the logical conclusions she was coming to. This was the stuff of fiction. Movies, TV shows, books, things that weren’t her reality. The other question was, if Tony was alive, something she refused to let herself hope was true until she knew it for sure, then where was he?

Walking out towards the hallway, she found her planner right where she used to keep it. The year wasn't current; it was five years ago, already confirming one of her outlandish theories. It also likely meant that she wasn't pregnant. But if he was alive... if he was alive, then that was all they needed. If they had another chance... As she turned the page to where the bookmark was, the date didn’t stick out to her initially. There was a single event written down: ‘Visit’. It seemed almost random. But as Michelle flicked through the neighbouring pages, the date from two weeks prior stuck out to her. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking her head.

The Cordilla virus outbreak was two weeks ago. He’d been shot two weeks ago. She’d been kidnapped two weeks ago.

He’d gone to prison two weeks ago. 

She yelped a little when the doorbell rang. Pacing over and looking through the peephole, she found Jack standing there. Why was he here?

Not particularly worried about the state of her appearance right now, she opened it.

“Sorry, I know I'm a little early. I wanted to try and get down there before traffic got too crazy.”

At a loss for words, Michelle gave him a confused look. He furrowed his brow.

“We were going to go to the prison today? So you could see Tony?”

Michelle recalled the calendar entry. 'Visit'. As in visit him.

He was alive.

“Y-Yeah, sorry. I'm a little all over the place today.” She took a breath. “Give me ten minutes.”

He nodded, giving her a sympathetic look. “It’s okay, I understand. Take as long as you need.”

She shut the door behind her, realising there wasn't time to sit here hypothesising what had changed. All she could do to confirm that that horrific tragedy hadn’t happened was see it for herself. She quickly freshened up and got dressed, even thinking of getting some food and water for the dog. It didn't take her as long as she thought; the more she moved around the house, the more she remembered. Michelle then locked up and got in the car with Jack. She was so lost in thought as they drove off, unable to bring herself to speak.

“Chloe and Palmer are willing to help by testifying. I’ve got some legal options for you and Tony to look at today.”

She hummed in understanding, trying to suppress the smile forming as she realised they both had to be alive.

When they made it through security, Michelle could feel her heart race, ready to burst from her chest. As they entered the small holding room, she found Tony sitting there. They locked her eyes, and she felt her heart stop. Michelle wasted no time striding over to embrace him. She was shaking, tears streaming from her eyes, desperately mapping over his body with his hands. He kissed her temple, holding her tight, or, at least, as tightly as he could with his hands cuffed. When she pulled back, he looked almost surprised at how viscerally she was reacting. Of course, he'd probably expected her to be upset and a little overwhelmed but likely hadn't expected to see sheer disbelief.

“Hey… hey, I’m here. It’s okay.” He said softly.

Shaking her head, she leaned into him again, a muffled sob escaping her. He was really alive. He was really here. And so was she.

Eventually, she and Jack sat facing him, her eyes still not leaving him, still not entirely trusting this was real.

“I’ve gotten the recommendations from DOJ for the lawyers,” Jack said, placing some documents on the table. “Some are more expensive than others, some have more specific experience, but there are options for you both to discuss.”

More of her rationality started to return to her as she became more present in her reality, and Jack went through the profiles of the various law firms. She remembered having this conversation. They were here now to talk about preparations for Tony’s trial. The trial that, while still ended in an okay compromise, was ultimately a failure. He had been found guilty and sentenced to prison. It had been a shorter sentence than anticipated, but prison nonetheless. When he’d gotten out, there’d been a shift in their relationship, which resulted in a painful divorce. They’d gotten back together by sheer fate, left CTU, and then, one morning, the world had fallen from under them. Michelle realised it had all been a cruel domino effect. They'd drifted apart because he’d gone to jail. CTU and the hell that came with it had then brought them back together, only to tear them apart once more.

So, living this sense of deja vu -- except, no, it wasn’t deja vu, because she had been here before, she had heard this conversation -- it hit Michelle that she was the only one who could stop it. If they could get Tony a ‘not guilty’ verdict, they could leave CTU for good then and there. They could find something else together. But if they let themselves choose from the DOJ-endorsed options in front of them, then that wouldn't happen. They would have the same outcome. And, somehow, Michelle didn’t think she would get another chance to try to fix it.

“No.” Michelle blurted, cutting Jack off just as he mentioned the name of the firm she remembered they’d picked the first time.

Tony furrowed his brow. “What?”

“W-We can’t… we can’t use the DOJ lawyers.”

“Why?” Jack asked. “They’re our best shot of dealing with this because they've taken similar high-profile cases.” 

Fervidly, she shook her head. “I’m telling you there’s a better option. I just… please, I… I have a really bad feeling about this.” 

Her voice wavered, and Tony seemed to notice how anxious she was, to her relief.

“If you want to look elsewhere, that’s fine, sweetheart,” Tony said softly. “I know you feel like you have to do everything you can, but don’t take this all on yourself, okay?” 

She took in a deep breath. If the DOJ lawyers weren’t the answer, then who was? It didn’t take Michelle long to recall what had just transpired, or at least, only for her. She’d gotten a ‘not guilty’ verdict for treason and murder. All thanks to a certain law firm in Massachusetts.

“I-I have one in mind. They’re interstate. We’ll probably have to pay to fly them over, but… they’re good. Really good. Just… just trust me on this, okay?”

Jack looked sceptical. “Who are they?”

“They're called Donnell, Young, Dole, and Frutt.”