Call Me By My (Real) Name

The last thing Renee remembered was falling, the patters of shards of glass scattering around her. She remembered the acute pain in her chest, gasping for air as though it had all been sucked out of her. Then she’d been lifted, swung around. Jack. Jack was the one who’d held her. Renee could still see his terrified expression, and feel herself clinging to the adrenaline-fuelled warmth of his body. She remembered choking on the blood spilling from her mouth, spraying a little on Jack’s face as he’d sat her up. The pain had grown exponentially in that short trip from the hotel to the hospital. There’d been another sharp pain, one in her arm that time, and then darkness.

Her body felt numb when she woke up, limbs sluggish and heavy. Based on the lights, the beeping, and the faint yet distinct smell of Lysol, Renee concluded she was still in the hospital. Craning her head as much as possible, she observed her surroundings. There was a woman wearing a suit, maybe in her late fifties, seated across the bed, holding a manilla folder and smiling at her. A nurse was beside her bed. He adjusted the IV drip and then promptly left. But Jack Bauer, the last person she remembered seeing, was not in the room.

Renee attempted to speak, but found herself gasping and spluttering instead. The woman shook her head endearingly, walking over to elevate the hospital bed and hold a cup of water to Renee’s lips.

“You’ve been out for five months, give yourself a minute.”

Not trusting the stranger before her and not liking the loss of her speech, Renee pursed her lips, breathing deeply as she focused on regaining feeling in the rest of her body, the coolness of the water sliding down her parched throat. The woman sat on the edge of the bed, Renee now noticing more of her features. Mousey brown hair, streaked with grey, mono-lidded hazel eyes, and lipstick the colour of sun-kissed apricots.

“Renee, you’ve been placed in Witness Protection on behalf of Ethan Kanin. The evidence that the Russians were involved in Omar Hassan’s assassination was creating tension between our government and theirs. Everybody else was willing to let your death be the peacemaking factor, but after all the service you’d given, Ethan couldn’t bear the injustice. So after you were shot in the chest by a Russian sniper, the nurses were paid off to drug you so an autopsy could be performed, before placing you in a coma to recover, and airlifting you to Philly. ”  

Her forehead creased. There were still so many questions. She still didn’t even know whether to believe this woman.

“I’m Special Agent Maya Valle, by the way. I’m from one of the FBI units around here. You can trust me.” Clearly, Renee’s unchanged expression meant she didn’t. Agent Valle let out a chuckle, flashing her badge. “I figured that wouldn’t mean anything to you.” She rested the manilla file on the small bedside table. “All the details are in the file for you to read later, but for now, here’s what you need to know. Your name is Natalia Coleman, you work at the head office of Delphi Electricity as a consultant, and you live in a comfortable two-bedroom house just fifteen minutes away in the humble town of Rosedale.” She made a commiserating face. “It’s the only way to guarantee your safety and keep tensions at bay.”

She so desperately wanted to protest, to press for more information. But her body’s physical condition meant that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Renee recalled the handful of times she’d been in charge of debriefing people on their new Witness Protection identities. There’d been objects thrown, curses shouted, tears shed. Not everyone is willing to abandon everything they’ve ever known, even for their own safety. She almost wanted to laugh now at how the tables had turned. To the rest of the world, Renee Walker was dead. But Natalia Coleman wasn’t as keen to forget about her.

Now feeling more confident in her ability to move, Renee yanked the syringe from her wrist, not daring to wince visibly, and swung her legs over the other side of the bed, storming to the bathroom. Agent Valle followed closely behind her, knowing that a woman who’d only been nourished by an IV for several months was the perfect candidate for a fainting spell. Looking at her reflection, Renee let out a small gasp. Her skin was greyish, freckles barely noticeable. They’d cut her hair into soft curls, well above her shoulders, and dyed it, probably bleached it, honey blonde. She was skinnier, cheekbones protruding more than they used to. Gingerly, she ran her fingers through her short locks.

“The red hair was too distinct on you, honey. You know how it is.” Agent Valle sighed. “You’ve got about two weeks, less time than we normally give since you used to be FBI, it shouldn’t be too difficult. Medically you’re fine, we’ll keep you at a hotel, get some meat back on you, and then take you out to Rosedale.”

Renee was still too stunned to respond. She wanted to ask about Jack but realised that even if she did, it wouldn’t change the fact that she’d probably never see him again. Before she could even debate the fine points of that in her brain, the agent had left, softly shutting the door to the room behind her.

She stared at herself for a while, pulling the hospital gown to find the remnants of a round, pinkish scar just inches away from her heart. Readjusting the gown she stared into her green eyes, the only part of her appearance that still looked familiar. “Natalia.” She spoke. “Your name is Natalia Coleman. Renee Walker is gone. Renee Walker is dead.” It was a hoarse whisper, but Renee continued to repeat it until it meant something to her. Her mouth grew dry quickly. Walking back to the bed, she sipped tepid water from the plastic cup, before sitting back on the edge of the bed, and burying her face in her hands.

The receptionist of the firm was full of energy as he showed her around. Renee could detect hints of a Texan accent in his voice. It was a normal office, really. Couple of water coolers, a kitchenette, decently sized and spaced cubicles for two. The type of job Renee had sworn to her fresh-out-of-college self that she’d never end up in. But clearly Natalia Coleman was okay with the mundanities of a nine-to-five and a small town like Rosedale. The calmness and routine aspect of suburbia was just what Natalia needed after working her ass off at a larger firm in the big city of New York. That plus the divorce. According to her file, that was included to deter her from suitors, at least for now. Natalia needed time to settle and safely establish her identity. She needed to check her house for bugs religiously, watch her back like there was a bright, red target on it, and most importantly, ensure that every story, every tale she told was consistent and organic. Nothing Renee hadn’t done before. But when she’d gone undercover in the past, the identity had been temporary. A few weeks, a few months, whatever the case, it had had a timeframe. 

Now, ‘Natalia Coleman’ was permanent. 

Just as his enthusiasm was driving Renee to dig her nails into her palm, he finished the tour at her cubicle, much to her relief.

“This is where you’ll be working, just next to Denise here, she’ll teach you how to use the system. If you need anything, you know where to find me!” His voice trailed off as he walked away.

The woman’s voice was calm, comforting almost. “He’s a bit much, I know, but he’s a good kid.”

She swivelled in the chair to reveal herself. Denise was maybe a little older than her. Straight, dark hair fell to her shoulders. She wore a crisp, white shirt, a black pencil skirt, and pumps. Typical office attire. Her skin was slightly tanned, nails short and neat. Thin-framed, round glasses emphasised the softness in her face. Her eyes were a deep brown, full of inquisition as she looked at Renee with a warm smile. But a heaviness settled in Renee’s gut when she came face to face with her. Concealing her concern about her body’s reaction with an equally enthused smile, Renee greeted her colleague. The heaviness wasn’t bad, she concluded. There was no chill running down her spine, no increase in heart rate, no panicky thoughts forming in her brain. This wasn’t a fight or flight response, that much was true. But there was something about this woman that was familiar, yet out of place. Renee didn’t think she’d ever met this woman, but knew somehow that she’d seen her before. However, Renee realised that that wasn’t important right now, because if she stared any longer, her ‘fly-under-the-radar’ goal would soon dissipate.

Denise raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong?”

“No, no, it’s fine. You just look familiar.” She looked at the floor shaking her head. “It doesn’t make any sense, just threw me for a bit, that’s all.” Renee attempted a laugh.

To her reassurance, Denise brushed it off and smoothly proceeded to showing her how to use the computer. It took every ounce of patience in Renee to pretend to not know how to use a very basic computer and telephone system. Even though she’d never worked as an analyst at the FBI, her computer skills were still well above average. She couldn’t look too prepared, that would draw suspicion. But she had to look qualified enough. Capable. The rest of the day went about as well as she expected it to. Time flowed slowly but not painstakingly. The coffee machine in the kitchenette had a decent array of blends. Her workload was reasonable, yet still large enough to keep her motivated. However Renee dreaded the day, the day she knew would come rather soon, when she’d grow bored of it, and feel so miserable and powerless knowing that there was very little she could do to change it.

Closing the front door behind her with a groan, Renee hung her work tote over the hook and removed her coat. She’d stopped at a small deli on the way home to top up the cupboard of necessities the FBI had provided. Renee put together a small bowl of mac and cheese and sat herself in front of the desktop. As the computer made humble beeps, she blew a little on the pasta to cool it down. Immediately, muscle memory kicked in, her fingers lightly tapping away the URL of the FBI staff login page. When she realised what she was doing, she pushed herself back from the desk, staring at her hands like they were autonomous. Although though her credentials had been long since removed after she was fired, Renee still knew there were other ways of logging in that Janis had showed her once upon a time. She’d used it to check up on Alan Wilson’s cabal in the year and a half following her discharge. What she wouldn’t give to talk to Janis right now. She’d been kind enough to check in on her, sometimes giving her updates about classified cases she’d been a part of. Of course Renee had lied, had said she was doing well and thanked her for the information. It was easy to fake happiness and general okay-ness over the phone.

Come to think of it, she didn’t even know Denise’s surname. Renee wondered if Denise was even her real name. If she had somehow seen this woman before, it would have been work-related. Maybe she was a former suspect, or some other key person thrown into Witness Protection as well. That would made the most sense, logically. But the genuine kindness the woman exuded seemed to indicate more of a connection. Not just a face on a screen, but a face of significance, of worth. So Renee formed a routine. By day, she’d make idle chitchat with Denise, mentally noting the information she was learning about her. By night, she’d scour the basic, civilian-accessible pages of the internet, looking for matches, records, news articles, any kind of image or description that would satisfy her.

The heat had been cranked up in the office, enough to make Denise roll her sleeves up. As Renee pivoted to grab something from the filing cabinet, she caught sight of her forearms. They were covered in thick, dull, burn scars. 

“It was a house fire.” She said coldly, without looking away from the computer.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare, they just look so painful.” Renee became flushed, returning to her desk.

Denise let out a sigh, before speaking again, the softness returning to her voice. “It’s not your fault, don’t worry about it.”

She hadn’t been optimistic to start with, but now Renee’s search was looking hopeless. After looking through the limited scope of information available about the FBI, CIA, DOJ, Homeland Security, NSA, and ATF, there was only one major agency left: CTU. If Renee couldn’t find any information looking at CTU records, then she would have to spend the rest of her life in agony, wondering if she was truly delusional or if the woman who she shared an office cubicle with had just hidden her tracks incredibly well. There was a decent gap of time between records for the reinstated CTU units and the original. Given her age and that she’d been working at Delphi for a number of years (apparently), if Denise was a CTU agent in her past life, she would have been an agent before the disbandment. Furthermore, CTU was still considered relatively ‘recent’ compared to the other government divisions. Taking this into account, she was pleased when the time filter revealed only around twelve year’s worth of information, as opposed to the twenty plus she’d had with the others. However, twelve years still covered a reasonable number of incidents. The tiny digital clock in the corner told Renee it was just past eleven. It was only Wednesday, she still had to work the rest of the week. But Renee also knew that she would be too restless to sleep. So press on she did.

Maybe it was her subconscious brain guiding her, but somehow Renee had added ‘Jack Bauer’ to her search terms. She’d found images of his youthful, happy face, and couldn’t help but grin like a schoolgirl. Then there was a gap, a shift, his photos more stern, more aloof. Eventually she’d gotten towards the end of her search, recalling that he’d also worked for the Department of Defence briefly, only coming in to CTU for some temporary consulting. One of his final CTU-related appearances was at Tony Almeida’s treason sentencing as a witness. Clicking the article, she scrolled through, not bothering to read the details. It wasn’t like she didn't know the outcome. Seven months. Maximum security. No bail. No appeal. More than anything she just wanted to see the photos. Half had been taken on the streets, the subjects cowering away in frustration and pain. She remembered now. The press had been on this trial like vultures. Yawning, she ran a hand through her hair, still feeling a slight surprise at the short period of time needed to trace each curl from root to end. Renee’s yawn was cut off midway, her hand halting, buried in her scalp. 

…Agent Michelle Dessler, wife of the accused…

Feeling her breath hitch in her throat, Renee enlarged the image. The woman pictured was petite, with dark, curly hair pinned back in a ponytail. Her mouth was slightly pouted, indicating discomfort. The angle it was taken at only showed one of her eyes, brown and rounded. Nearly every physical feature Renee had noted about Denise was present in Michelle, save for the burn scars. In this photo, her arms were mildly tanned and smooth. Needing more to fully confirm, to fully convince herself that that her hunt had been fruitful, Renee returned to the search engine, now prepared to comb through every last article about Michelle Dessler. She felt memories resurface. Memories of sitting in her office at the FBI, slightly delirious with exhaustion, much like she was now, poring through her file from beginning to end. There were several commendations from District, CTU, and later, Division. A skilled agent for certain. Like most other employees of national security, her social presence was rather limited. After all, when you knew the ugly side of the internet, you knew to stay far away if you could help it. Adrenaline continued to trail through Renee’s fingertips, before stopping abruptly, as she found herself reading Michelle’s eight year old obituary in the Los Angeles Times. She’d reached the end. Paralleling her thoughts now with her thoughts at the time she’d first investigated the agent, Renee recalled one crucial detail that cemented her theory once and for all.

Michelle had been killed by a car bomb. 

A car bomb that resulted in two fiery explosions: the initial blast, and subsequent blowing of the gas tank. 

“It was a house fire.” 

Or maybe she’d been shoved into Witness Protection like Renee had? Perhaps she’d been resourceful enough to falsify her own identity? It certainly fit her profile.

But nonetheless, Renee was now certain that the woman who been sitting across from her every day was Michelle Dessler. 

Renee couldn’t just confront her about it. Of course she couldn’t. She didn’t want to scare her, after all, Renee didn’t want to risk her safety, nor did she have any reason to. Really she just wanted answers. Michelle had been the final piece of the puzzle for a lot of the unexplained twists and changes in Tony’s behaviour that day. Renee just wanted to talk to her, get to know her. After all, if they were going to work together, presumably until one of them decided to retire, why couldn’t they extend that relationship further, and genuinely so?

Denise had already left, Renee taking her solitude as an opportunity to approach the bright-eyed receptionist she’d come to know as Roy.

“Hey, Roy?”

“Ye-es?” He was shoving his things into his bag, yet still politely took the time to make eye contact with her.

“Is there an employee address book? I wanted to surprise Denise with a little thank-you present for helping me settle in.”

His eyes lit up. “Oh, that sounds lovely! It’s actually built in to the employee directory. Here.” Roy tapped away quickly, whizzing through the file tree until he reached ‘Denise Perri’. Renee thanked him, scrawling the address down on a sticky note. She stopped at the grocery store on the way home, picking up her dinner, along with a bottle of wine and a hamper of various dried fruits, crackers, and cheeses. Looking up the address on her computer, she was pleased to find it was fifteen minutes from her place on foot. 

Just after seven o’clock on Friday, Renee stood and knocked on Denise’s front door. She heard faint barking, recalling that it was recommended to people in Witness Protection that they have pets as companions, rather than risk their past lives becoming known in a romantic relationship. She’d contemplated it herself, and was meaning to take a trip to the pound. The sound of gentle footsteps accompanied by the pattering of four paws on hardwood floors became louder. Denise was still in her work uniform, sans heels, appearing surprised but not visibly displeased to see her. Instinctively, Renee raised the hamper as a white-furred Akita popped out between Denise’s legs, nearly toppling her as it did so. Darting around Renee, presumably to inspect the intruder to its home, the dog wasn’t relentlessly clawing at her or scratching. It seemed as though it approved of her.

“Leo!” She scolded, whistling. The dog retreated with a whine. “Sorry, he can get jumpy with strangers. Didn’t seem to mind you too much though.”

Renee giggled at the tickling sensation of his fur on her legs. “No, no, he’s cute, it’s okay.”

“What brings you here, Natalia?” There were fearful undertones in her voice, and for valid reason. “I’m not upset or anything, I just didn’t think I’d told you where I lived.” She tried to pass off a nervous laugh.

“I wanted to give you something, just because you’ve been so helpful at work over the last few weeks.” Renee handed the basket over. “I didn’t, uh, stalk you or anything. I asked Roy for your address from the company book, hope you don’t mind.”

Denise relaxed her posture a little, much to Renee’s relief. “That makes sense, thank you, this was really thoughtful. Come in, it’s freezing out here.” She opened the door wider, allowing Renee to step past the dog, before shutting it, the wind harshening its closure.  The house was cozy, with plenty of natural, wooden accents. A burgundy sofa sat on one side of a dark coffee table, angled slightly towards a small television. Paintings complementing the aesthetic adorned the walls. Most of them were reasonably abstract, save for a few of Leo. Maybe she’d painted them herself?

“Do you want a drink? Coffee, tea, anything?” She called from the kitchen.

“I’ll just take a glass of water, I’m fine, thank you.” Renee stopped her musing of Denise’s décor, and followed her into the kitchen, past a small hallway table with a drawer, chewing the inside of her cheek.

There was a pause, as the tap struggled a little to fill up the glass. She took a deep breath. “I know who you are.” Renee said, evenly. “Who you really are.”

Denise made a confused expression, much the way she had when Renee had knocked on the door. “Well that’s a bit forward, we’ve only worked together for a month.” She rested the glass on the bench top. Cool, calm, collected. Exactly the reaction Renee had expected. She had predicted that Denise, or Michelle rather, wouldn’t break a sweat until all the details came out. Until Renee made it perfectly clear just how much she knew about her. 

She hummed, amused. “I know your name isn’t Denise.” Renee took another breath. “It’s Michelle. Michelle Dessler. You were a high-ranking federal agent for the Counter Terrorist Unit, until you unwillingly fell victim to a huge conspiracy and had no choice but to reinvent yourself.” Renee surveyed her for any sign of panic, a flinch, a shudder, a something. But still she kept her cool.

“Is this about what you said when you first met me? I really do think you’re mistaking me for someone else.”

Renee looked her in the eyes. “No mistake. I just want to know the truth, that’s all.”

Denise turned away, now pretending to be interested in packing away various items from the hamper. “You should go, Natalia. Thank you for the gift, really. But you should go now.”

Natalia Coleman might be the type to walk away from something potentially dangerous. Might be the type to give up. But Renee Walker isn’t. “The night before former President David Palmer was assassinated, somebody paid by a member of Charles Logan’s administration planted a bomb in your car. The next day, you got up, and the bomb went off, changing the course of you and your husband’s lives forever. That was how you got those scars, not a house fire.” The cupboard obscured her face, Renee couldn’t tell how much progress she’d made. A good concealment tactic she noted though.

“Whatever happened to this Michelle Dessler sounds horrible, and if you knew her, I’m sorry. But I’m not her, really, I think you’re confused. And I think you’ve overstayed your welcome.”

Renee followed Denise, still with her back turned, down the hallway back to the front door.

“You were pregnant.”

She froze.

“Not many people knew, really, you were only a few months along. The passenger side door crushed your womb, caused you to miscarry, but saved most of your other vital organs. He would have been about seven today.”

In one fluid motion, Denise shoved Renee against the wall, the commotion causing Leo to growl. Her slim stature clearly still had some strength behind it, as her small hand was planted firmly against Renee’s chest, just below her throat. A tear had formed at the corner of her right eye. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but nobody has called me by that name in nearly eight years, so don’t underestimate how far I’ll go to keep it that way.” She whispered harshly through gritted teeth. “You don’t know me at all.”

Renee wrapped her hand around Michelle’s wrist, a subtle sign that she could just as easily take her down. “You’re right. I don’t know you. Not really. I know what I saw in your file though. You have a relentless sense of duty. You’re objective. You always do the right thing, no matter what.” They didn’t break eye contact. “And I know the reason you keep glancing over to the hallway table is because that’s where your gun is. Probably a Glock, standard issue, smaller than what you used to use. It’s a good spot by the way, not too close to the door, but not too far either.” Michelle tightened her grip. “I know, because that’s where I keep mine.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is- was” She rolled her eyes “Renee Walker. I was with the FBI. I’m not here to out you, or to hurt you, and I don’t resent you because of your husband’s actions. I figured this all out based on my own memories and archived public records, you’re not in any danger, believe me.”

A crease formed in Michelle’s forehead. “Why was the FBI interested in me?” Her voice was less angry, the worried nuances in her body language more prominent.

Renee sighed. “They weren’t really interested in you, per se. It was just necessary to look into you as part of the larger investigation of Tony Almeida. Your Tony Almeida. That’s why we brought in Jack Bauer as well.”

There was a thud as her body became flush with the wall again, Leo continuing to bark.

“That’s not possible. You’re lying.” The anger had returned, her defence heightened.

She narrowed her eyes.  “W-what do you mean? I have no reason to lie to you, Michelle, I’m telling the truth!”

The suspended tear rolled down Michelle’s cheek. “Because Tony Almeida’s dead, and Jack Bauer’s a fugitive.”

Suddenly, Renee realised what was going on. What was going through her head. The FBI had taken special care to not have Tony’s name mentioned in any media releases at the time. Nobody had wanted the public panicking that former agents were suddenly turning against them. Especially since that wasn’t his first treason rodeo. And if Michelle was smart, which she definitely was, she would have made no effort to look into classified government files from her civilian, potentially vulnerable, Witness Protection home.  As far as she knew, Tony was dead. But while part of her brain processed that, understood that, used that to gain Michelle’s perspective, the other part of her brain was ringing alarm bells. Jack Bauer, a fugitive? Renee racked her brain trying to find a reason. Having a five month memory lapse certainly didn’t help.

“What do you mean Jack’s a fugitive?”

Now Michelle squinted at her. “He’s been on the run for nearly half a year. Something about murdering a bunch of Russian diplomats. It was all over the news, you didn’t know?”

Cogs turned in Renee’s brain, recalling what Agent Valle had told her. The shooter was Russian. Renee Walker’s shooter was Russian. Jack could only have snapped because of her. And come to think of it, when she’d looked through Jack’s public records, the time filter had been applied, so recent news wouldn’t have been visible. 

She observed Renee’s expression sadden, feeling a little sympathy knowing that if at least part of what this woman was telling her was true, then obviously she had some connection to Jack. And finding out someone you care about is a fugitive is no easy thing to deal with. Lord knows Michelle could relate. Finding out the lengths Tony had gone to save her from Saunders was pretty confronting. Conflicting too. Part of her was honoured, felt so loved by him, knowing how far he would go for her and her alone. The other part of her was so worried, so scared about the consequences, and his hidden capabilities. How far he would be willing to go if something worse happened. But there was no time to reminisce about the past. Renee Walker, or so she claimed, was insisting Tony Almeida was alive. And after mourning him for nearly eight years, Michelle damn well deserved to know the truth.

“I can give you the details later, but right now, what’s this about Tony being alive?” There was a hint of solace in her voice, very much the persona she’d portrayed when presenting herself as Denise. The same voice began to shake with confusion, with betrayal and realisation. “They told me when I woke up at Witness Protection that they weren’t able to get to him in time, that Christopher Henderson had killed him. It was all part of David Palmer’s plan to try and save us-“

“Us?”

Michelle shook her head. “Me, Tony, and Chloe O’Brian, because we were the only ones who knew Jack was alive. Palmer had written a letter to Martha Logan instructing her to get Witness Protection to intervene. He knew they were going to try and kill us, so he wanted us to be safe with new identities rather than risk failing to intercept the hits in time. And now you’re telling me that was a lie?”

“There were more conspirators that Palmer didn’t know about, they were the ones who revived Tony after Henderson tried to kill him.” Renee squeezed her eyes shut. “Michelle he’s…Tony’s in prison. For life this time.” The shock of that revelation caused Michelle to fully release her hold on Renee. Tentatively, Renee pushed Michelle’s hand away, brushing over it a little with her thumb. “Look. Clearly, we both have questions for each other, so let’s just sit down and talk about them.” She met the other woman’s eyes again, so determined a few seconds ago, but now so, so lost. “I’m basically in the same boat myself. By no choice of my own, I had my death faked, and woke up in Witness Protection almost half a year later. Honestly, all I want to do is talk.” Renee shrugged. “There’s something a little surreal about reading someone’s autopsy cover to cover and then coming to her house to give her a gift basket. And if we’re really in such similar situations, I don’t see why we can’t be there for each other.”

One bottle of wine later, specifically, the bottle of pinot noir that Renee had brought over, they’d come to an understanding. A horrified, but accepted and believed understanding.

“It’s pretty insane I know, how far he took things that day.” Renee could tell Michelle was still so heartbroken. To find out her husband was not only alive but also a very different person had to be hard to process.

She let out a dark chuckle. “Honestly, I’m not surprised. Considering how far he went when he thought I’d been kidnapped, I don’t blame him for losing it after thinking that me and our son were dead. Doesn’t make the guilt any easier though. That was a huge part of our divorce, not only was he pushing me away, but I was angry at him for how guilty he made me feel because deep down we both knew I wouldn’t have done the same for him. Which was true.”

“It was the difference in priorities. Neither of you were right or wrong. You chose duty, he chose you. And that created a rift.” Renee noted.

“God, the problems that come with two agents dating each other. I used to get so pissed when I’d talk to other friends, and they complained about their husbands fucking snoring or something like that.” There was a slight hiccup as Michelle grumbled.

Renee laughed, probably more than she would if she were sober. “Honestly, the best relationship I had while I was an FBI agent was with a cop. He knew enough about the industry, but he was too far away to be affected in the same way.”

“What happened between you guys?”

She traced patterns on the rim of her empty wine glass with her finger. “We were serious. Probably would have gotten married. But then I went undercover with Red Square and…I was too broken when I got back, and at some point he couldn’t cope anymore.  Funnily enough, the duty thing came up for us too, in a way. We argued over how long I went under for. Andrew had begged me to get myself out as soon as things went south, but I put up with it so we could get more information on them. Nobody else would ever get that close to Red Square, I did what I had to do.” Renee sighed. “But he just didn’t get it, so I don’t blame him for leaving me.” Her voice trailed off. 

“And again, both sides are valid. He wanted to protect you, you wanted to do your job.” 

Renee nodded in agreement. 

“That’s why Jack and I worked so well, I think, more than he and Tony did sometimes. We had the same priorities. Although he was a lot quicker to jump the gun and break the law than I was. And he was different when it came to Kim, I imagine I would have gone down the same path if I’d become a mother.” 

Renee suspired. “God, we picked the crazy ones, didn’t we?”

“All we wanted as little girls was a knight in shining armour to save us, but I think we were better off saving ourselves.” She divided the remaining wine between the two glasses. 

“I’ll drink to that.” They clinked, swirling the dark liquid before consuming it, the alcohol continuing to warm their bodies.

Renee sat forward, gently petting Leo, who’d fallen asleep at her feet. Michelle smiled, her dog’s amiability further reassuring her that Renee was trustworthy. She’d bought him as a guard dog after all.

“Would you take him back if you could? If he somehow got out of prison and found out you were alive?”

The appalled expression on her face seemed to indicate otherwise. “God no. The things you’ve just told me, I guarantee you he still wouldn’t regret any of it, he’d just make it about our son, or find some other excuse to justify it. As far as I know, the old Tony, the Tony Almeida I fell in love with, is dead. And even if he managed to get Alan Wilson arrested, look what his actions did to you!” She gestured to Renee. “A well-trained, clearly capable, and determined FBI agent, and because of what he did, your career was destroyed.”

Renee pressed her lips into a thin line, looking down shyly. “That was only part of why I lost it. I think another part of it was because I was angry for you, not just about you. I looked through your entire file, I knew what a respectable agent you were, but because Tony’s justification for everything that day was you and your baby, he took you down with him. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, or what Tony did in your name after.” 

Michelle took a good look at the younger woman, seeing the anguish in her green eyes. Clearly after all this time, it was still such a painful memory for her. Gratefully, her warm hand gripped Renee’s on the table. “You fought for me, and you didn’t even know me.” Renee looked up. “And for that, I thank you.” 

“I wish it didn’t have to come to this. You must be so lonely.”

Michelle shrugged. “I’ll admit, this isn’t exactly the life I wanted, but I’m happy, or at least happy enough. Work isn’t terrible, I’ve got my painting, I’ve got Leo, and well, now I have you too. Besides, I did it for Jack, even if it didn’t work out in the end, I don’t regret helping him, and I never will.”

Renee smiled before glancing at the clock. Explaining the past eight years of their lives had been rather time-consuming. “I should get going, Michelle, but this was nice. I don’t think I’ve felt this comfortable since I got to Rosedale.”

They made it back to the front door, stumbling a little. She hadn’t drunk this much in a while. Renee wondered if she’d make it home without a concussion, but concluded that she’d probably be fine. Michelle rested her hand on her shoulder, causing her guest to turn and face her. “I want to thank you for tonight as well. You definitely scared me at first, I mean ‘Denise Perri’ is the third identity I’ve gone through, you can’t exactly blame me, but thank you. You have no idea how nice it is to talk freely for once and not have to second-guess and cross-check everything I say, or analyse everything you say for hidden connotations or codes.”

Squeezing her hand in return, Renee smiled. “I agree. Nice to just be Renee and Michelle, not Natalia and Denise, for a couple of hours at least. So…I’ll see you at work on Monday?”

Michelle rolled her eyes a little, as she was reminded of their aliases. “Yeah. See you then.”

“What about this one? Natalia?” Michelle was laughing as the German shepherd licked her hand.

They’d spent all of Saturday morning at the pound looking for a dog for Renee to adopt. They knew which breeds would make good guard dogs, so it was simply a matter of preference. Michelle had to resist the urge to bring home ten more, Renee practically dragging her by the hand down the aisle. All of the dogs were so cheerful, so happy to receive affection, any one of them would prove an excellent serotonin booster for a woman destined to live the rest of her life alone. 

But Renee wasn’t drawn to the mastiff that kept ramming the cage door with its snout, desperate to escape for a game of fetch. Nor was she drawn to the bull terrier that seemed to always appear smiling. 

Michelle walked over to where Renee had sat, crosslegged, looking into the cage with her. It was a blue heeler with bloodshot eyes, visible malnutrition, and an aura of pure misery. Renee’s lips were pouted, her green eyes pitiful, fingers lightly grasping the metal of the cage. She placed her hand tenderly between Renee’s shoulder blades.

The slightly nasal voice of one of the volunteers sounded behind them. “Poor thing. Found her on the side of the street, owners had beaten the shit out of her,

He’d been drinking again. She knew it normally made him violent, but never this much before.

…broken ribs… 

Renee felt Vladimir’s boot make contact with her side, again and again. She howled, curling up into a ball to protect herself. 

…wrung her out by the neck…

He reached down, pinning her with his weight, wrapping his rough hands around her throat.

… you name it, she’s copped it….” 

She cried out as he entered her forcefully, pounding away relentlessly, yanking her hair until she was sure it would fall out of her scalp.

The volunteer sighed. “She doesn’t even have a name. But with a lot of love and care, she’ll make an excellent protector.”

Jack took her in his arms, wincing a little at his wound, but not sacrificing his grip on her, devotedly reassuring her.

Renee bit her lip to fight back tears. “I’ll take her.” She said hoarsely. “Whatever she needs to be healthy and strong again, I’ll do it.”

As the cage door opened, the dog moved towards her, hesitantly. It was so weakened, it trembled and nearly collapsed in the short distance to the aisle. Tentatively, Renee began to stroke the dog’s back. The grey fur was slightly matted, she took care to avoid the stitched areas. It crawled into her lap, settling there. Somehow, there was an unspoken bond between them already established. The bond of mutual suffering, of mutual pain, and heartache. The animal trusted her, trusted Renee to be gentle, to be loving.

As Michelle drove home, she felt her heartstrings tug, looking in the rear-view mirror. Renee had craned her neck in what had to be the most uncomfortable position possible, staring into the crate where the dog lay, whimpering a little. 

“Thought of a name yet?”

Renee looked up, taken out of her trance. “Stitch, I think.” She looked more assured as she looked at her new companion once again. “Yeah. Stitch.”

Michelle smiled “If only my dog had been a girl, I could have named her Lilo. But Leo’s close enough, right?”

They laughed as Michelle pulled up to Renee’s house, helping her to unload all the necessary care items they’d bought, before waving as she drove home.

And as Renee looked into the crate one last time before heading to bed, observing the rise and fall of the sleeping dog’s chest, she couldn’t help but fall in love all over again. Something about her just felt right. 

She woke to a dark room, a stormy sky, and a whining dog. 

Already on edge from the randomness of the bouts of thunder, Renee was a little unsteady as she came to the hallway where the crate sat. Bending down, the dog was shaking like a leaf. Opening the door with a gentle creak, she called the dog’s name. To her woe, it retreated into the corner, attempting to protect itself. Determined to establish a good relationship with her new companion, Renee continued to coo, encouraging the dog to come towards her.

Thunder cracked again, startling Renee, but prompting Stitch to run towards her. The dog nearly toppled her from her unstable kneel. She took the opportunity to hold the dog in her arms and stand, moving with caution to the bedroom. With one hand, using the other to hold the bleating dog to her chest, she grabbed a blanket, swaddling Stitch. Sitting back in the hallway, her legs outstretched, Renee hushed the dog over and over. Stitch’s dark eyes and fur contrasted the soft baby blue of the blanket, gazing up at Renee helplessly.

“You don’t like storms? It’s okay, I don’t either.” She caressed the fur again, trying to tense every muscle in her body to keep still when thunder roared again. “I used to…

Thunder crashed overhead when Vladimir stumbled into the room, an esurient look in his eyes.

…but not anymore.”

Renee sat and held Stitch until light crept through the curtains. The creature squirmed a little in her lap, lightly scratching at her thighs. She allowed her to move from her lap, choosing to find interest in the stuffed penguin she’d bought for her instead. Giving Stitch one last pet for good measure, Renee stood, admiring the vulnerability of the animal, feeling a wave of affection wash over her again. “I’m going to take care of you, and make you all better.” She whispered, her voice breaking a little. “I promise.”

For two people who worked next to each other five days a week, one would think they’d run out of things to talk about. But for Renee and Michelle, that simply wasn’t the case. The things they talked about at work were mundane, inconspicuous. If someone were to eavesdrop, there would be nothing there to question. Their communications of care were unspoken, but they were there. It was the way Michelle knew to simply turn off the news when Russian-American tensions came up. It was the way Renee knew to brush her hand against Michelle’s under the table when yet another coworker announced their pregnancy or gushed about their children. But once a week, usually on a Friday, they’d peel their metaphorical masks off and talk about the things that had brought them into each other’s lives. There were still so many things to reconcile, moreso for Michelle than Renee. They’d still check for bugs or listening devices each and every time, because there was an establishment that what they were doing could potentially cost them everything. But in the comfort of their homes, there was openness, safety, solace.

After Renee had explained most of the details that first night she’d confronted her in her home, Michelle had instantly felt so much gratitude towards Renee. For the first time so many years, Renee had given Michelle a reason to not think about her past life in fear. A reason to remember her true self, and the battles she’d endured. At some point though, she couldn’t pinpoint when, the feelings of affection had deepened. Michelle became afraid that if Renee were to disappear from her life, a very real possibility since her identity was still so new and potentially unstable, she wouldn’t be able to live in solitude again. Renee Walker was the only connection to her past life, one she’d sworn to sever, but now couldn’t bear the thought of parting with. 

Renee too had grown fond of the woman and her support. She’d admired her since the days when Michelle Dessler was only a name on a piece of paper to her. Michelle had suffered so much yet soldiered on, and Renee aspired to have that kind of resilience. Wonder Woman was Renee’s hero growing up, even from then, she’d known she’d wanted to grow up strong, independent, a fighter. That Wonder Woman ideology had never left her, forming such a large part of her motivation in training at the FBI. Going into Witness Protection, Renee had dreaded spending the rest of her life alone. After all, she’d been pulled away from Jack, and part of her still grieved knowing he was hiding out god-knows-where, believing she was dead. But now Michelle’s presence had given her hope that it didn’t have to be the end of Renee Walker. That she would never have to fully bury her past life.

The discussions about their histories always had a tendency to take a dark turn. Neither of them ever meant to, but things always seemed to end up that way. An heartfelt, occasionally wine-fuelled confessional of their innermost thoughts. Things they should have done. Things they shouldn’t have done. Things that still haunt them. Being this analytical, this critical, of actions they were powerless to change was very much in their nature, and yet another reminder of their similarities. 

Somehow they’d ended up talking about Alan Wilson again. She claimed that she’d worked through it, that it was just something of the past she accepted had happened. But Michelle could see the disgust, the loathing in Renee’s eyes as she described every last thing she did to him. It was therapeutic though, for both of them. Renee bringing everything out in the open, Michelle coming to terms with the fact that one of the main conspirators behind the whirlwind of tragedy that had spun into her life had been punished, more cruelly than she’d probably envisioned, but nonetheless punished. 

“I-I don’t even remember when I stopped, they’d dragged me out of there kicking and screaming, then I think someone must have sedated me.” She murmured, shamefully. “I’m crazy. I’m fucking crazy.”

Michelle couldn’t take it anymore. The way Renee had flagellated herself for snapping, it was killing her. What she did wasn’t right, but when one works in that industry, sometimes the things you do, just aren’t. Michelle had come to terms with that over the years. There were still missions that plagued her mind. Missions where her calls and decisions had cost the lives of others. Sometimes fellow agents. But more painfully, sometimes innocent civilians. However, Renee, with her slightly shorter experience, and still being in the process of adjusting to the permanency of her new life, hadn’t found a way to forgive herself quite yet. 

She didn’t know what possessed her at that moment to be so forthright, but Michelle knew better than anybody that life was too short not to take risks sometimes. Michelle leaned in to kiss Renee gently, placing a hand on her knee to stabilise herself. Renee didn’t reciprocate at first, but then did so cautiously, with a sense of unfamiliarity. Her lips lightly grazed Michelle’s, before opening her eyes, and pulling away, not daring to look at the disappointment she knew would be painted on her face.

“I-I should go.”

“Wait! Don’t, please. I’m sorry, Renee, I didn’t-“ Michelle pleaded.

But Renee had already opened the front door, walking onto the dark street. Frantically, Michelle ran behind her, nearly tripping over a sleeping Leo in the progress.

“We can just forget about it, okay? Please, Re-! Please!” She cursed under her breath for nearly daring to shout her name.

To Michelle’s consolation, Renee stopped, still not facing her, but she’d stopped. “I-I’m sorry. I just…” 

“Just what?”

Renee turned around, her green eyes teary. “I don’t want to lose you.” She blurted.

Michelle furrowed her brow. “Lose me? Wha-, Natalia, listen.”

“N-no.” She closed the distance between them, her heart aching at Michelle’s pained expression. “It’s not about that. I-I want this too.”

“You do?” Michelle whispered back.

Renee gave a small nod. “I’m just afraid that if we take things further,  and it doesn’t work out, then…then I’ll lose you completely.” Renee cupped Michelle’s cheek. “And I can’t do that.” She took a shuddering breath. “I-I had prepared myself to be alone the rest of my life in Rosedale, and I was okay with that. But then I found you, an-and I was so overjoyed I couldn’t believe it. I keep thinking it’s too good to be true, that one day I’ll wake up and be all alone again. That’s why it scares me so much.”

Her hands shook as she gripped Renee’s biceps. “Don’t you see?” She whispered. “What we have here, what we are to each other, is the only link to our past. We can never lose each other, Renee. No matter what happens, this, this bond is what keeps us together. You will never lose me, okay? It’s a risk that we’re even doing this, the smart thing to do would be to keep our distance, to make sure that Renee Walker and Michelle Dessler stay buried forever. But the fact that we’re taking it? It means that there’s something between us that’s worth keeping. And if we’re brave enough to risk our lives, then we’re brave enough to take a chance by doing this. Even if we never do it again, it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”

This time Renee initiated the kiss, holding Michelle’s face, full of emotion, full of devotion. She could feel Michelle’s relief against her as she leaned in, the two of them breaking apart just long enough to return inside and shut the door. All that could be heard were their shallow exhales, and the sound of Leo pacing around in response to the noise, before settling down again. Renee gently pushed her back against the wall, running her hands down Michelle’s sides. They battled for control, passion consuming them, each needing to assure the other how much they wanted this. Michelle walked her back towards the couch until her legs were tangled amongst Renee’s, their chests resting against each other.

“You ever done this before?” Renee purred, trailing her hands down Michelle’s back.

She snickered. “Not in a long time. You?”

“No…” Renee replied, shyly.

Michelle pulled back, ever-so-slightly. “We’ll take it easy then, okay?” Renee’s eyes indicated trust, indicated appreciation, the level of affection radiating from her prompting Michelle to lean down again, tangling her fingers amongst the short curls. Her hands found themselves under Renee’s shirt, gently caressing her and finding the clasp of her bra. Renee arched her back a little so she could give Michelle access. She groaned a little as Renee pressed against her.

“God, Michelle…”

A flirtatious laugh escaped her. “Keep saying that…keep saying my name.” She mumbled into Renee’s mouth, sucking on her bottom lip a little.

Renee returned the banter with a hum. “Only if you promise to say mine.”

Michelle continued to tease Renee, moving her thumbs in small circles, Renee tenderly feeling the bumps and raised flesh of her scarred abdomen under her shirt.

Bucking a little when Michelle changed pace, Renee snorted as she nearly pushed her off the relatively narrow sofa. Clearly, going to the gym over the last few months to rebuild her strength had paid off. “Should we move this to the bedroom?”

“Yeah…” She replied, breathlessly.

Taking her by the hand into the small, dimly lit bedroom, Michelle undressed herself as Renee sat on the edge of the bed following suit. The scars on Renee’s body were fewer, more distinct, but she hated them nonetheless. However, seeing Michelle avoid looking into her own reflection, seeing the detestation in her expression, made Renee’s heart twinge. Wordlessly, she communicated her appreciation of her beauty, tracing delicate patterns over the dullish, marred skin of her breasts and waist with quivering fingertips, causing Michelle to look down sheepishly, a slight blush on her face, before she covered Renee’s body with her own, just as before. 

Slowly, with intermittent looks at Renee’s exhilarated face just to sanely reassure herself that both of them wanted this, Michelle kissed down her body. She noticed the thin, jagged mark on Renee’s wrist. The raised ring just below her right breast. With her honey-blonde hair splayed across the pillow, Michelle could also see the puckered discolouration on Renee’s neck, right under her ear. Making a consoling face, she pressed her lips to them, giving Renee a glassy look. Renee simply tipped her head back, softly exhaling.

Michelle worked her way between Renee’s thighs, at a pace that was slightly taunting, evident by the way Renee wrapped her calves around her, tightly, not wanting her to stop, not wanting to let her go. It was one finger, then two, constantly changing rhythm, changing rate, keeping her guessing. Powered by desire and Renee’s whines, she stroked her faster, applying more pressure. Stars crept into the corners of Renee’s vision when Michelle ducked her head further and continued the motions with her tongue. Eventually, Renee came with a cry of Michelle’s name so full of worship it nearly lead to the other woman’s own undoing.

Filled with need, filled with overwhelming passion, Michelle retreated back up to kiss Renee deeply. “Not bad for an eight year dry spell, huh?” She asked, playfully, as Renee’s lips parted, her ecstasy-fuelled, slightly manic laugh, indicating agreement.

Renee’s fingers wandered downwards, gesticulating with a sense of newness as Michelle pushed into her, encouraging her motions. They collapsed to their sides, as Renee continued to please her slowly, Michelle whimpering not to stop when Renee had managed to find the spot that made her knees buckle. She dug her nails into Renee’s back, who simply continued to persuade her, whispering in her ear, emphasising every part of her name. When Michelle came, she wasn’t surprised to find herself brought to tears, shaking a little as she breathed into the crook of Renee’s neck, before coming back up to kiss her again. They clung to each other for a while, mapping their hands over each other’s bodies, not daring to break contact, almost as a confirmation that they, that this was real. That they weren’t alone.

Michelle watched Renee rest, curled into her, feeling the collective, still rapid beats of their hearts. For the first time in eight years, she felt genuinely connected to another human being, and was so overwhelmed with indebtedness that she’d been given a second chance at life. 

And for the first time since Jack cradled her in his arms half a year ago, Renee felt as though her life wasn’t over, and now was content with what it had come to.

When they were together there were no lies, no secrets. 

No aliases, no fear. 

They were themselves. 

She flipped the sheets off of her so violently, they made a whipping sound. Her screams were blood-curdling. The woman gasped for air, coughing a few times, with eyes wide open as she sat herself upright. The rate of her heart was still hurried. So as not to startle her, Michelle had simply propped herself on one elbow, waiting for Renee to fully wake before attempting to comfort her. When the other woman’s breathing became calmer and more paced, she brushed her thumb over her pale, planted hand.

“Nightmares? I used to get them a lot too.”

Renee nodded slightly, before flopping down on her back, closing her eyes. “Sorry, I just…” She sighed. 

“It was from when you were undercover, wasn’t it?” Michelle asked softly.

She watched Renee’s eyes squeeze shut. “How did you…?”

“You were screaming in Russian, sweetheart…”

Renee turned back to face the window, curling up, wrapping her arms around herself, as though to shut out the world. As much as she wanted to just hold Renee, squeeze all the pain and hurt out of her, Michelle knew she needed space right now, that much was clear.

“Do you want me to rest my hand on your waist? Just so you know I’m here?” The back of Renee’s head made a downwards motion, as she grabbed Michelle’s hand and rested it in the dip of her side. A few moments later, Renee’s entire body began to palpitate, a small snivel leaving her. Repeatedly, Michelle hushed her, emphasising the contact between their bodies.

“You’re with me, it’s okay.” She rubbed her body soothingly. “It’s okay, sweetie. He can’t hurt you anymore. You’re safe.”

Renee continued to cry, hugging her knees in tighter, sniffling. “Did they ever go away for you?” She asked, hushed. 

Tiredly, Michelle ran her free hand over her face, into her scalp. “I actually think they stopped after the, uh, after the bomb. The doctors had told me the trauma I received to my skull caused some brain damage, so maybe that’s why.”

Worried, Renee twisted her neck to face her. “Brain damage?”

Michelle shook her head, pressing one hand into Renee’s abdomen slightly tighter, and using the other to brush a stray curl from Renee’s face. “Nothing serious. It just means my sleep is of a lesser quality, so I dream less and feel tired a lot. Also, some of my long-term memories are a little hazy. That’s part of why I paint, to help me keep things fresh in my mind. But it’s fine, don’t worry.”

Turning around again with a worried scowl, Renee adjusted herself a little, before settling back into a familiar deep breathing pattern.

When she woke, Michelle’s hand was still there, idly making repeated motions. Pivoting, Renee turned to face her. “How long have you been up?” Her voice was still cracked.

“I don’t even know if I slept. I waited until you fell back asleep, next thing I know, the sun’s coming up and I’m still watching you.” She looked at her endearingly.

Renee closed her eyes, smiling. “Creep.” She murmured, drawing closer to cover Michelle’s mouth with her own.

Renee mouthed at the scars slowly, sucking lightly at each unique, puckered mark on Michelle’s stomach. Her chest was still heaving slightly. Michelle ran her hands through Renee’s hair, feeling her own breaths even out. She tugged slightly, causing Renee to look up, confused.

“You don’t…have to do that, you know.” She mumbled, almost embarrassed.

“Do what?”

Michelle gave a weak shrug. “I don’t know…romanticise them? You don’t have to try and make me feel better about them or anything, I’m used to it, it’s okay.” Her voice fell glumly. “They’re always just going to be a hideous reminder of what happened.”

Propping up onto her elbows, Renee looked at Michelle closely. She offered an endearing smile, full of admiration and love. “I get that it’s hard for you. But sometimes I just wish you’d see yourself the way I do.” Her voice was full of reverence.

“What do you mean?”

Out of habit, Renee began to lightly trace the scars with her fingers. “They’re a reminder of what happened, obviously. But they’re so much more than that. They’re your battle scars. They’re a reminder that you survived, Michelle. That you’re strong, and brave, and that you don’t give up, and…they’re a reminder of all the reasons I love you I guess.”

The other woman was silent. Worry began to set into Renee’s eyes. She hadn’t even realised she’d used the word. Was it too soon? Were they going to break things off for safety after all? Was ‘love’ something exclusively reserved by Michelle for Tony? Gazing up at her, Renee was surprised to see Michelle’s eyes were moist. But not in a sad way. No, Michelle looked honoured.

“You love me?” She whispered so quietly, so fearfully almost, if Renee was any further away she wouldn’t have heard it.

“Yes. I do. I love you, Michelle.” Saying it again only reaffirmed its conviction and definition in Renee’s mind. She leant further forward, cupping Michelle’s face with her hands. “I know what we’re doing is dangerous. But I don’t care if someone comes after either of us, because we’ll be there for each other if they do.”

“Plus the dogs.” Michelle quirked a brow.

Renee giggled. “Yes. Plus the dogs. The point is, like you said to me that day, you’re worth it.”

A smile formed on her face. “Well I love you too, Renee.” Her blue eyes lit up as Michelle began to gush. “I love everything about you. I love being with you. I love you because I actually feel like myself when I’m with you, something I never thought I’d feel again. And I love you even more knowing you feel the same way.”

Tilting forward, she kissed the other woman tenderly. Renee’s lips were already so soft and full from the way she’d kissed down Michelle’s body earlier. Grabbing a hold in Michelle’s hair, Renee sat herself up to straddle her. Warmth and arousal emerged within them once more, hands creeping lower over smooth skin.

Renee let out a breath between kisses, looking into the woman’s dark brown eyes. “So you love me too, huh?” She quipped.

Michelle moved to kiss below her earlobe, before whispering huskily. “Let me show you how much.”

“Congratulations, Melissa! Number four, right? I swear I can still remember the day you’d brought in little Amelia all swaddled up!”

The woman nodded eagerly, as her colleagues crowded in the break room to see the seemingly infinite number of photos of her newborn child.

Renee could tell Michelle was tense, a bittersweet, glassy quality in her eyes. Walking over to where she stood by the coffee machine, Renee rested a hand on her shoulder.

“You okay?”

She wiped under her nose. not meeting her concerned gaze. Taking her by the hand, Renee pulled her into a nearby supply closet, carefully and quietly closing the door. Wrapping her arms around Michelle, she could feel dampness as she buried her face in the crook of Renee’s neck. Michelle’s hands were warm, squeezing Renee’s back tightly.

“You wanna talk about it?” Renee whispered.

Michelle shook her head, tilting in the direction of the security camera. She was right, it wasn’t a good idea to bring up their past lives at work. Not when they had no idea who was watching. So they stood like that for a moment, listening to the sound of each other’s breaths, the gentle hum of the air-conditioning unit, the distant chatter. When they returned to work, Renee couldn’t help but keep glancing over at Michelle, knowing she was struggling to hold in the overwhelming grief inside of her. Shortly after, she heard Michelle get up, and sign out, mentioning a headache to their boss along the way. Renee pursed her lips, typing faster, knowing that their boss would be lenient enough to allow her to leave early if she met today’s deadlines.

Renee’s face was painted with worry before she even stepped through Michelle’s door. They’d recently given each other the spare keys to their respective homes. As she announced her arrival, her voice trailed off, surprised to find Michelle sitting on the edge of the couch. Leo, who was sat in her lap, promptly ran to Renee to greet her. She gave him a quick pet, not taking her eyes off of Michelle, who sat despondently, a box of tissues at her side. Simply, Renee gave Michelle a crooked, sympathetic smile, laid on the couch, and pulled her into her arms. Pressing her face into Renee’s chest, she sobbed, raggedly. Gently, she laced her fingers through her hair, smoothing out the straight strands. “Why couldn’t I just have one? Some people get four beautiful children, and I can’t even have one?” Her voice croaked with the intensity of her cries. “Why did I have to lose him, Renee?” The next question was barely above a whisper. “Why’d they take my little boy?”

She didn’t fight the tears that had formed in the corners of her eyes, opting to hold Michelle tighter. “He would have been beautiful, Michelle…you didn’t deserve that. Not after everything else you’d been through.”

“He was supposed to represent me and Tony’s new life together, our new life away from CTU, away from all the things that had caused us so much pain. But just like that he was gone.” Both of Renee’s hands found themselves wrapping Michelle’s waist, understanding the depth of her emotions more and more. “A-and I’ll never have that opportunity again. Having kids was always sort of an after-thought for me, I could never think about juggling work and kids at the same time, not at CTU at least. But now that I’m away from all of it? Now that I’ve had a glimpse and lost it? I want it more than anything.”

Renee hummed softly in agreement, listening to her outpour.

“I still remember standing outside the sperm donor clinic in Rosedale. It was only a few months before I met you. I thought I’d finally prepared myself enough emotionally, I thought I could do it.” Michelle took a deep breath. “But then I remembered the times I’d had to run for my life.” She swallowed, Renee feeling the rumble against her solar plexus. “I remembered when they broke into my first place in Savannah and threatened me at gunpoint. Then I remembered being surrounded on the street in Charlottesville, Leo had had to claw one of them off of me, that’s why he’s got that little bald patch on his back leg, they sliced him so damn deep.” Renee glanced at the animal, seeing what she was referring to. “If something were to happen again, and if something were to happen to that child I couldn’t live with myself. And even if they were safe, there will always be people who know who I really am. If that child found out that I’d lied to them their whole lives…I-I couldn’t live with that either.”

“It’s not fair. It’s fucked up, and it’s horrible. And I’m so sorry you have to live with this kind of pain.” Her voice wavered.

She wept louder, feeling another wave of grief wash over her. “I just wish I could get over it emotionally, leave it all behind so I can focus on my life now. Focus on you, focus on being happy with the life I have, not the life I wanted. But I’m scared. I’m scared Renee, because each day I know I forget more and more of my past. It shouldn’t be this complicated. If I’m trying to live my new life without endangering myself or anybody else by focusing on the old, then I should let myself forget.” Michelle sniffled again, her voice breaking. “Is it so wrong that I don’t want to? Is it so wrong that I want to hold onto whatever small piece I have of him left?”

“No! No, Michelle…it’s not wrong. The only way most people survive Witness Protection is by holding on to their memories. But if you can’t even do that…then you deserve whatever you need to be happy.” Her body trembled in Renee’s arms. “None of this was your choice, or your fault. And based on the way you speak about him, I don’t think you’ll forget. You might forget the little things, but I don’t think your heart will let your brain forget something so important. Something you’re so attached to.”

Michelle lifted her head, mascara staining her face and Renee’s blouse. “You think so?” 

“I know so. Because I’ll be there for you.” Renee swiped at her streaked cheek. “And I also know you would have been an incredible mother. I even see it in the way you take care of Leo. It sounds ridiculous but…he’s family to you. And the way he protects you is proof of that.”

The corners of her mouth upturned as Michelle looked into her eyes reverently. She shrugged against her. “For the longest time, he was all I had, the only source of affection in my life. That and…well, he doesn’t have to taste my cooking.” 

They both laughed, Renee feeling relieved to know Michelle was feeling at least a little better. “Speaking of…” She glanced at the clock. “Probably time to feed him, huh? Us too?”

Michelle nodded, giving Renee a nuzzle before standing, and helping her off the couch.

Later, after dinner, they were sat on the couch, resting, as a sitcom played on a low volume in the background. Renee had her head in Michelle’s lap, who was playing with her hair, taking each curl, stretching it out, and watching it spring back. She giggled. “What is it with you and my hair?” 

She smiled down at her. “I don’t know, I think I just miss mine.” Mentally, Renee recalled the older photos of Michelle she’d seen. Her impossibly curly hair was a feature of nearly all of them. 

“Grow it out then, I know it was a discerning feature, but it’s been long enough. Besides,” her voice deepened, “it was sexy on you.”

Michelle exhaled, smirking at her. “I wish I could, but between the heat damage from the bomb and the chemical straightening they forced me to do, I don’t think it’ll ever look the same. So, sorry, but this is about all the sexy you’re going to get.” She emphasised her point, tugging at her contrastingly undeviating locks.

Renee frowned a little. They continued to watch television for a while longer until Michelle tapped at Renee’s cheek to wake her. It was too late for her to go home. They tended to alternate staying at each other’s houses, although they usually slept at Renee’s more because Stitch was still adjusting.

Rubbing her eyes, they went to the bedroom, languidly preparing to go to bed. Makeup was wiped off, teeth were brushed, showers were taken. Michelle yawned as she lay next to Renee.

“Thank you for today…thank you for understanding.” She spoke appreciatively.

“Of course…that’s what I’m here for.”

Michelle’s smile was still evident in the darkness of the bedroom, as she pulled Renee closer to her, listening to the thud of her heart as she fell asleep.

“If Leo can do it, so can you!”

Renee had been sitting for what felt like forever on the small stool behind Michelle’s easel. She’d had to maintain the same position for nearly an hour while Michelle painted. 

The first time Renee saw Michelle’s studio, she could tell how much emotion was poured into her work. How much of her soul, of her life, her memories could be lifted simply from the choices of colours, of textures, of depth. So when Michelle asked if she could paint her, Renee knew it was a sign that she was a significant part of her life. So how could she possibly refuse?

 “You gave him treats! And I thought the point of you painting me was an exercise for your memory, so remind me again why I’m still sitting here?”

She couldn’t help but laugh. “I need to get the general structure first, then I’ll do the rest from my mind later. Just a couple more minutes, okay?”

Through her complaining, Renee had adjusted her position. Michelle narrowed her eyes at her, getting up and manoeuvring Renee’s hands to their original positions as though she were a Barbie. In the process, the wooden legs of the seat wobbled. Quickly, Renee stuck her arms out to grab Michelle. However, they both found themselves on the drop-sheet coated floor, Renee on her back, Michelle splayed on top of her.

“You okay?” Renee laughed, slightly muffled by Michelle’s chest over her face.

“Yeah…you?” She blew a strand of hair from her mouth, looking down at a seemingly fine Renee. Upon doing this, a playful smile formed. “Take your shirt off. And your bra.”

Renee flashed her a confused look. “Why?”

Standing with a groan, Michelle smoothed out the colourfully stained, baggy t-shirt she was wearing as a dress, grabbing the paints from the small workstation, and returning to the floor. Reading the labels on one of the pots, she nodded with approval. “I want to try something…” Her voice was deeper as her dark eyes looked down at Renee’s.

Too intrigued and frankly, too aroused, to refuse, Renee did as Michelle had asked.

“When I said I wanted to paint you…I didn’t realise I had options for the canvas.”

Before she could understand what was going on, Renee sucked in a breath as something cool dripped onto her chest. Tilting her head forward, she noticed a splash of red, followed by some dots of yellow, and of white. She shivered as the soft paintbrush glided down her body in a smooth trail. It pushed up to her throat, before running down just before her jeans.

“Feel good?” Michelle hovered over her. “It’s not toxic or anything, I checked.”

She nodded as the process repeated. The brush strokes spread side to side, presumably mixing the colours into some kind of sunset-like swirl. Renee tried and failed to keep her body still as the new drops of paint settled on one of her pectorals. Using a slightly smaller and more pointed brush, Michelle drew small waves, following the natural swoop of her breasts. She squirmed as it made contact with her nipple. The combination of the cool, contrasting liquid and Michelle’s concentrated expression was causing her breaths to quicken. Renee didn’t know how much more of this she could take. A small moan escaped her as Michelle made matching patterns on the other side.

Michelle continued, moving up to her shoulders, down her arms, and across her abdomen, before finally moving painfully slow at her sides.

A tickling sensation came across Renee as the smooth brush swept up her right, into the dip of her waist, and back out.“You’re killing me…” She breathed. Michelle simply laughed in return, a flush spreading across her own cheeks.

Several painfully slow minutes later, Michelle retreated, examining Renee with satisfaction. “Beautiful…” Grabbing a small mirror, she leaned it downwards so Renee could see.

Beautiful was right. From her collarbone, along her arms, and right down to her hipbones, not a single patch of skin was left untouched. Deep reds and pinks at the top, reminiscent of her natural hair sleekly transitioned to more vibrant oranges and cheerful yellows moving further down. Tiny black birds were dotted in various spots, including her scars. The entirety of her upper body had been transformed into a mesmerising, impossibly fiery sunset. Her mouth opened a little in awe, causing Michelle to look away, bashfully. 

Placing the mirror down, she straddled Renee once more. “So you like it?”

“It’s incredible, Michelle.”

“Well, having you as my muse certainly helped.”

Renee ran her hands down Michelle’s bare thighs. “So you’re finished now, right?”

She nodded, slightly unclear at the undertones in Renee’s voice.

“Good.” Sitting up, Michelle yelped as Renee pulled her further into her lap. A hand found itself entangled in her hair, the other wrapping around her waist, fingers creeping lower to grab at her ass. She sucked at her neck, grabbing Michelle tightly. “You know how hard it’s been for me to lie there with you looking at me like that?”

Michelle lightly raked her nails up Renee’s bare back, leaning in, grinning uncontrollably. Renee’s hands slid under Michelle’s shirt, feeling the now more familiar bumps and edges of her skin. They settled into a rhythm, Michelle rocking and grinding herself against Renee, keening at the friction emphasised by the thin cotton of her panties. While Michelle tentatively tried to avoid the detailed areas of the paint, Renee could barely keep her hands off her, leaving red-orange finger prints everywhere she went. The colouring on Renee’s body had smudged and streaked slightly with perspiration and with contact. Renee cupped Michelle’s breasts through her now even more stained t-shirt, leaning in to kiss her. Immediately however, she pulled back coughing and scowling. 

“I think I just got paint in my mouth.”

With an equally disgusted expression, Michelle spat a small, pink droplet onto the floor. “And in mine.” She coughed a few times as well, still panting and sweating. “Let’s just finish this in the shower, shall we?”

Renee swiped her finger down Michelle’s nose, leaving a yellow streak there, before giggling, and agreeing.

Michelle kicked her pair of heels off as soon as they walked through the door. Renee locked up behind them, before turning the lights in the living room on.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” 

As Renee walked off, Michelle made herself comfortable on the couch, avoiding a half-asleep Stitch. She grinned, noting how much better the dog was looking compared to when Renee had first brought her home. The bald patches of fur had grown back, bruises had faded, separation anxiety had waned. Hearing Renee’s return, Michelle fished a stuffed animal from under her, and tossed it to the floor, prompting Stitch to move so Renee could sit. 

There was an uneasy look on her face. It had been Michelle’s birthday, and up until now, Renee had been practically giddy with joy in making sure the day was pleasant. She’d surprised her with flowers in the morning. Their colleagues had bought a nice cake, Roy’s idea, of course. They’d left work early to go for dinner at an expensive restaurant. But what Renee held in her hands now, the actual gift element of the day, seemed to be causing her some anxiety.

Sitting beside her, Renee passed the unmarked envelope over. There was a funny look on Michelle’s face. 

“J-just open it.”

Neatly breaking the seal, she found two post-cards inside. Placing one in front of the other, a pang hit Michelle’s chest. Her voice quivered as she spoke. “This…this is…”

Renee nodded. “Your last sonogram. I figured you, uh, probably didn’t have a copy of it to look at anymore.” Concern arose in Michelle’s eyes. “D-don’t worry, I went through the Witness Protection contacts, your medical records had been transferred over already, anyway. And any mention of Tony has been changed to some John Doe, it’s all been taken care of.”

Looking a little more relieved, Michelle tenderly ran her thumb over the scan. She moved the second card in front of the first now, letting out a small gasp.

It was still the same scan, but no longer flat and greyscale. The image in front of her now was a brighter sepia, showed more of baby’s features. Michelle could see the shape of the baby’s nose, his eyes, his mouth, the curl of his gradually forming tiny fists, and more. 

Renee watched Michelle’s mouth open as if to say something, yet no words fell out.

“Apparently, if they have the original data, there’s a lab in Atlanta that can convert older 2D sonograms into the newer 3D ones. Seeing as your records were secure under your new name, I-I thought I’d go the extra mile. I-I know you were saying you wanted to move on from the past, but…I also know you miss him. A-and I just thought if you were to have a little piece of him, a little reminder of him then…that would make it easier.”

Michelle still hadn’t said a word.

“I-I’m sorry if this was too muc-“

“It’s perfect, Renee.” Her voice was small, but Renee could detect it was happy. Michelle’s bottom lip trembled slightly. “I love it, thank you.”

Seeing the bittersweet appreciation on her face was enough to make Renee’s own eyes water. Before she could even reply, Michelle had thrown her arms around her, pressing tightly. Her hair tickled Renee’s arm as she rested her head. The sniffles that left both of them evolved into tears.

“I’m glad you like it. God, I was so worried you wouldn’t.”

Pulling back slightly, Michelle shook her head. “No, no, you’re right. Part of the reason it’s been so hard all these years is because I’ve had nothing to look at to grieve over. No pictures of Tony, and none of him. The one mental image of the ultrasound was the first thing I ever tried painting, because I was scared to lose that memory the most. But now with this, I don’t have to worry about that. Thank you, again.” Immediately, she returned her gaze down to the three-dimensional image. She let out a small laugh in awe, examining all the details of him. Having shoved her own shoes off now, Renee reclined on the couch, spooning Michelle into her so they could both see the photo.

“I think he’s got your nose.” Her finger traced over the glossy card. “And your eyes.” She moved her fingers higher.

“You think so?”

Renee tilted her head down, comparing. “Yeah. I think so.”

“He looks a little angry, don’t you think?” 

Renee laughed. “What?”

Michelle’s fingers joined Renee’s. “Look how he’s squeezing his eyes shut and scrunching his forehead. That’s all Tony, I think.”

She laughed again. “Probably. Would have had quite the temper I imagine.”

“I don’t doubt that.” Michelle’s sigh was a little sad now. “I-I still can’t believe I’m actually seeing him. I mean it’s hard knowing this is all I’ll ever have, but it’s not making me as sad as I thought.”

They continued to lie like that, hypothesising the child’s features, personality, behaviour, a mixture of tears and humour, eventually falling asleep on the couch, with Michelle’s back pressed into Renee’s chest, and the two photographs clutched safely in Michelle’s grip.

“You coming to bed?” Michelle yawned, walking into the dark study. Stark whiteness from the monitor illuminated the freckles on Renee’s face. When she didn’t respond, Michelle came over and rested her chin on Renee’s bony shoulder, observing what was on the screen. It was a search engine, seeking the most recent news on Jack Bauer. Other than a brief mention of him in an article from several months ago, there was nothing new. 

“I want to find him. I can’t bear the thought of him sitting there thinking I’m dead.” Her voice was timid. 

Michelle sighed, stepping back. “Even if we find him, for Jack to discover you’re alive would be so overwhelmi-”

“There’s Kim and Chloe to think about too.”

“As sad as it sounds, I do think Kim is used to being without him, she’s strong. As for Chloe, well…it breaks my heart to think of her in jail, but that was her decision Renee. Just like what Jack did was his.” She cleared her throat, hardening her voice.  “And you have to remember we were placed into Witness Protection for a reason. If something were to happen, if the Russians came after you, or worse made an attack on the United States, it would destroy him, Renee. I think he just needs peace.” She let the words hang ominously, before speaking thickly. “And it would destroy me too. Y-you have to understand, I don’t have much left, Renee. Losing you would… if it wasn’t for that, you know I’d be behind you every step of the way. I care about him too.”

Renee had turned to face her, biting her lip, seeing Michelle press her mouth into a thin line. “Then I’ll do it alone.”

Her eyes widened. “I-I won’t let you do that either.”

She looked confused. “I’m capab-“

“If Tony finds out somehow that you’re miraculously alive after being pronounced dead in a hospital, then I wouldn’t put it past him to figure out that I am too. Now that I know everything he’s done, the last thing I would ever want is for him to come looking for me, or for you. I-it terrifies me, Renee. Please, I need you to understand that I’m at risk too.”

The look on her Renee’s face was understanding, yet hesitant. “As angry as he tried to make himself look, the way he acted that day was out of pain and heartbreak and nothing more. I could see it in his eyes. He’d be a little confused, but-”

Michelle vehemently shook her head. “I-it doesn’t matter why he did what he did, the point is he did. Tony’s not a part of my life anymore, you are.” She came forward to drape her arms over her. “We have to accept there’s nothing we can do, and that really, we shouldn’t do anything.” The next part came out as a sad whisper. “But it’s hard not to miss them, I know.”

Renee ran her hands through her hair, standing from the chair, pushing it away. “No, Michelle, you don’t know! You know that Tony’s in jail, I don’t know where Jack is, or what he’s done, or if he’s even still alive!” She yelled. “It’s so hard not knowing.” Her voice broke a little. “It’s so fucking hard.”

Michelle enveloped her into her arms, rubbing her back as she sobbed. “Renee…”

“And then I feel like such an idiot even complaining to you! Because I’m worried about someone I met for a few days. Days! You’ve known him for years!” Her voice had jumped an octave.

“Look, I wasn’t there when you met him, but based on what you’ve told me, and what he’s done, the bond you two share is special. It’s significant. He wouldn’t have done any of the things he did if it wasn’t for the fact that he loved you. Of course you’re going to worry about him.” Michelle spoke firmly, nostalgia wavering through. “You don’t have closure, I do. That alone makes a huge difference.”

Leaning back from the hug, Renee sat down again, resting her chin in her hands, spinning the chair to the side. “Still…you’re the one who should be losing it, you lost your husband, your baby, you had your whole, perfect life in front of you, and you lost it all.” 

The standing woman took a deep breath, placing her hands on her hips. “You’re right. And I still do sometimes, it still hurts, Renee, you saw me that time after Melissa had her baby.” She laughed, weakly. “And it’s not just her. Every time I see a family with kids, there’s a voice in my head that reminds me, that nags at me, ‘that should be you’, or ‘that’s what you deserved’.” Michelle paused. “And it’s true. There is a part of me that wishes I could go back in time, wishes I could see what my kids with Tony would have looked like, wishes we had the nice, quiet house in the hills that we’d moved to, wishes it’d all worked out.”

She knelt down, pivoting Renee’s swivel chair to face her, looking into her eyes. “But then I look at you, and I look at the dogs, and all the other good things I have, and you know what happens?” Michelle lifted a hand to thumb Renee’s teary cheek. “That little voice in my head shuts up. Because I remember that all I need in life is to be happy. And with you, I am. Every time I look at you, I forget about all of that. I remember that I’ve got a wonderful life, a safe life. And I remember that I’ve got you, Renee. We’re in this together, okay?”

The corner of Renee’s mouth turned up, leaning slightly into Michelle’s touch. “I love you.” She whispered. “So much.”

Placing a hand on the chair to stabilise herself, Michelle came up to kiss Renee softly. “I love you too.”

Six Months Later

“Stop feeding her bacon, then she’ll be too fat to move!” 

Renee blushed as Michelle spotted her feeding Stitch straight from the sizzling pan. She had no idea Michelle had even woken, her sock-covered feet dead-silent on the floorboards. Even after the vet had declared the animal to be of healthy weight, that hadn’t stopped Renee from spoiling her. What could she say? She loved the damn thing.

“Morning.” Renee pecked her on the cheek, aa Michelle snaked her hands around her waist, pressing herself against the warmth of her back.

Renee moved a little, side-stepping Leo and Stitch who’d now both made their way into the kitchen, plating the bacon, along with the eggs and toast.

Michelle released her hold, and poured the coffee, as they sat together at the table, smiling as the dogs beckoned for attention. “Can’t believe I went half my adult life without the joys of a lazy Saturday morning breakfast.” She murmured, taking a sip.

“Tell me about it, I don’t think I could give this up again, ever.” Renee scratched Leo under the ears, while Stitch made a figure-eight around Michelle’s legs. “We taking them to the park today?”

She nodded. “We’ll go there, and then I need to pick up a few more supplies. I want to get started on that little family portrait of ours.”

“Sounds good. I’m sure it’ll be beautiful, just like the rest of them.” Renee pointed to one of Michelle’s latest pieces hanging on the wall.

“Oh come on, they’re not that good.”

“Please, anything I’ve ever tried to paint looks no better than the chalk drawings the kid across the street makes on the sidewalk.”

She laughed at that. “True…” Michelle murmured, the side of her mouth curling a little. “I think your hands have much better practical applications.”

“We’re not going to be getting out of here early, are we?”

Michelle looked at her, a sultry shine to her eyes. “Nope.”

Twenty-Seven Years Later

“There’s someone here for you.”

Confused, Tony stood, guided by the guard to the communal visitor’s room. He hadn’t been visited by anybody in quite some time. Upon seeing the woman seated on the other side of the table, he almost turned around to protest, thinking the guard had directed him in the wrong direction. But looking past the woman’s white, gently curled hair and pale, freckled skin, Tony realised that the pair of green eyes staring back at her belonged to no other than Renee Walker. A woman he thought had died many years ago.

Sitting across from her, he opened his mouth to speak, only for the woman to cut him off. “My name is Natalia. Natalia Coleman.” She directed her gaze into his, a silent communication that despite him knowing her true identity, he had better play along regardless. 

Mentally, she calculated that he’d be in his mid-seventies now, certainly apparent by the grey in his short-cut hair and stubble. His face hung heavily, scars and lines well-pronounced. It seemed he’d kept up the use of the gym, for he still had a considerable amount of muscle on him. Looking at his eyes, quite possibly the only thing that hadn’t changed, she noted they were scanning inquisitively, probably to study her too.

“What brings you here?”

She took a deep breath. “I need to tell you something. It isn’t easy for me to say, but, uh, I guess I’ll just have to.” Renee gulped. “She…Michelle never died. There…there was an intervention, she was placed in Witness Protection.”

To her bewilderment, he barely reacted. “I know.” He said thickly. “Chloe told me…a little over ten years ago.”

“Why didn’t you-”

He shook his head. “She never told me where, or with who.”

“What?” Tony narrowed his eyes at her.

“I’m guessing Witness Protection, her hair was different, maybe some facial reconstruction surgery, it took me a minute to know for sure. But it’s true. I saw her.”

He clenched his fists, anger and confusion sweeping over him. “You mean to tell me, all these years, all this fucking time, she’s been alive?” The chains jangled in protest. “And nobody knew about it?”

Chloe sighed, waving away the guard who ran towards them at the sound of the commotion. “Well obviously the goal was to hide her and keep her safe, and it’s worked. She’s happy, Tony. So leave her alone.” Her tone was firm, commanding. “I just wanted you to know that, but don’t make me regret coming here.”

“Where is she? Where did you find her?”

She shook her head. “I’m not telling you that.”

“Where. Is. She? She’s my wife, Chloe.” The tears were starting to roll now, hot with fury. “I have a right to know where she is. Even if you don’t tell me, I’ll get the fuck out of here, I’ll find her, you watch me.”

An eye-roll was her response to his threat. “Okay, Tony, say you decide to ignore everything I’ve said and go find Michelle, then what? She’s not stupid, she’s not just going to take you back without wondering where you’ve been. Do you really think you have the balls to own up to that? Are you honestly telling me you could look her in the eyes and tell her you brought down two commercial planes and god-knows what else in her name?”

“I was under cov-“

“Not for all of it.” She replied, bitterly, pausing, allowing her point to sink in, before saddening her expression. “I-I wanted to scream it from the rooftops, Tony! I wanted to tell someone so badly that ‘Hey, look! After all the terrible stuff that’s happened to us, someone actually made it out okay!’ But I didn’t.” Her voice shook a little now. “I’ve got nothing left, Tony, my family’s dead, Jack’s gone, I can barely look Kim in the eyes. I wanted to go up to Michelle and hug her so badly, I wanted my fucking friend back. But I didn’t do anything, and you know why?”

Tony’s face fell a little in sympathy. He hadn’t known she’d lost her family.

“Because I care about her safety, and her wellbeing, more. I knew that I could not possibly risk interfering with her new identity, her new life. No matter how much I love and care about Michelle, if me coming back into her life meant that she would be in danger, I couldn’t live with myself.” Chloe stared directly into his eyes now. “And I think you couldn’t either.”

His face dropped a little, still in shock, in anger, in loss. Chloe stood, prepared to leave. “So for the love of God, Tony, let her be. If you really love Michelle, and I know you do, then you know that letting her go is what’s best for her.”

As she nodded to the guard for the door, he called out to her.

Her head turned to find him still looking down. “Just…one more thing.” His voice was soft, already sounding disheartened, on the verge of breaking. Clearly what she had said had had an effect on him. “There wasn’t a kid with her, was there?”

She formed a thin line with her lips, subtly gauging what he was getting at, realising the bomb’s detonation had still managed to cause some destruction after all. “No, I’m sorry. All I could tell is that she was happy and that was enough for me…I hope that’s enough for you too.”

Renee nodded in understanding.

“I take it something similar happened to you? Last I heard, Renee Walker was killed by a Russian sniper.” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah.” She closed her eyes. “But anyway, that’s not…that’s not the only thing I came to tell you.”

A pit formed at the bottom of Tony’s stomach. He had a horrible feeling he knew what was coming, despite calculating that Michelle would barely be pushing seventy. Renee’s voice was tight as she spoke. “She, uh, she passed away a few weeks ago. Had a stroke, took her to the hospital, and…” Her voice trailed.

“Did she suffer?” He didn’t meet her eyes.

“N-no.” Renee shook her head. “It was peaceful.”

He leaned forward. “You were with her when it happened?” 

She couldn’t determine the connotations of that. “I was. But not just then. I, um…” Renee struggled to find a way of explaining what had happened in those first few weeks upon awakening as Natalia Coleman. So she didn’t bother.  “I loved her, Tony, more than…more than anything. I loved Michelle with all of my heart. And she loved me.”

From the emotion in her voice, Tony began to comprehend exactly what Renee was referring to. Additionally, she moved her left hand closer to him, so he could see the ring she’d sworn to never remove. He paused, looking at the object. Tony brushed it with his calloused thumb over, and over, as if holding on to the last piece of Michelle he had. He tried to visualise her meticulously picking it out, the cool, smooth sensation of her skin as she slid it onto Renee’s finger. He tried to remember their own wedding day, when she had done the same to him. 

“So she was happy? Despite everything, despite losing our…she was able to spend the rest of her life, her life together with you, happy?”

Tearfully, Renee nodded.

“Then that’s okay.” He said softly, almost sounding relieved. “As long as she was happy, and she was loved. That’s all that’s ever mattered to me.” 

She narrowed her eyes at him, almost waiting for his fist to slam into the table or for him to scream manically. But he seemed content, somehow.

Tony laughed weakly through his nose. “You’re surprised, aren’t you?”

Startled, Renee gave a small shrug. “Thought you’d be a little more upset with me, that’s all.” She mumbled.

“I was, when Chloe told me.” His voice was serious, indicative that her intuition was not unfounded. “Really. I was planning on breaking out and looking for her. But well…you know Chloe, she kicked my ass. She put me in my place. Made me realise that not only would I be putting her in danger, but also that I would have to face her and come clean with everything that I did. And I knew that I couldn’t do that. So I did nothing. I realised the best thing was to let her go.”

“I’m sorry, Tony.” She looked up to see that his eyes were welling with moisture, just as hers were. “What happened to you both was…” Renee sighed.

He pressed his lips together, looking down at the scratched metal table. “I’m sorry too, not just for her, but for Jack as well. I know he meant a lot to you.” His voice was shaking, much the way hers was.

Brushing a tear as it attempted to roll down her cheek, Renee dipped her head in acknowledgement. It had been several years since she’d finally received closure on his whereabouts. Finding out he’d been captured by the Russians was not easy to accept, but the relief at knowing he was at least still alive had surmounted the pain of knowing his fate.

“Did…did Michelle ever find out about me?”

Renee cleared her throat. “She did.”

“Oh…” He looked ashamed.

“I know she never stopped loving you though. More than anything, she was disappointed, but I don’t think deep down she could ever bring herself to hate you entirely.”

The two of them then sat silently, not knowing what else to say to each other. Both of them had deeply loved the same woman, and now that woman was gone. One of them had already grieved her in the past, so the sinking feeling forming in his gut was unwelcome, but familiar. He wouldn’t take too long to adjust. The other however, had spent the entirety of her reborn life with her, and was now feeling so, so adrift, wondering how to spend the remainder of it. She finally had to accept the loneliness she was doomed to from the start. It had been years since both of the dogs had passed, and with age, the two of them had known starting all over again with a new pet wasn’t going to be worth it. She was now well and truly, alone.

As the guard motioned that their time was up, Renee stood from the table, sniffling. She whipped her head around when Tony’s rough hand gripped hers on the table. “Thank you for taking care of her.” He whispered brokenly, still looking away.

“Of course.” Renee whispered back after a beat, equally as shattered, barely managing to suppress her own tears before she left the building. 

When she did, she immediately clasped a hand over her mouth, to stifle the loud sob that escaped her, as she fell to her knees.