Author's note: So I thought of this a while back, it was supposed to be fluffy but it turned itself into angst. It came out different then what was originally planned, but I think for the better. Also, I can't convince myself I'm any good at "angst" so I hope not to disappoint. This is very much a Michelle centered story.
I'm really nervous about this one so let me know what you think.
Disclaimer: I do not own 24 or any of its characters.
Michelle had gone home early that day, the mission had taken it's tole on her. She had executed perfectly, apprehended the suspects, only to have half her team die in the explosion they didn't see coming.
They were gone, friends, people she'd worked with. She couldn't wrap her mind around it, so she laid herself down on the couch, and put in the saddest movie she could find.
It was the perfect vice. She could let her emotions be exposed, without having to contemplate the real pain weighing on her heart. She could cry deceptive tears for the sad couple on the screen, and let her own agony be drained whilst falling asleep to the rhythm of tortured souls.
She only barely heard him come through the door, and knew immediately he would pick up on what she was trying to do. Tony hated when she did this, he despised seeing her cry, but more that she would internalize. He wanted her to let him carry the burdens with her.
On days like this she didn't want to be touched, to be comforted. She wanted only to feel, so she surprised herself by grabbing him before he could lift her into his arms, and carry her to bed.
She was kissing him now, not with tenderness or affection, but with complete raw emotion. Hurt, lust, anger, pain, love, flowed through her as she pulled his body to hers.
He could feel the fire in her heart.
He tried to be gentle and compassionate as he caressed her breasts underneath her shirt, but Michelle wouldn't have it. She took his hands down between her legs, willing him to feel her, to take her.
He scooped her up and walked them to the bedroom, but not before he was smashed into a wall, his shirt practically being torn apart in the process. She pushed him back onto the bed, and forced herself inside him quickly, not slowly and achingly like when they made love.
She whimpered and eyes became glossy, she was close. But tonight she wasn't burying her face in his neck, as if pleading for his help. This time fingers dug deep into his flesh, and anger eroded her angelic face.
Michelle knew it was damaging, these vices she used to block the real pain, but she knew she could do it, because she trusted him. She knew in a few moments he would stop this, take her in his arms and let her come apart, help her to feel the real hurt inside of her.
And he did just that.
He couldn't take it anymore, she needed him. He flipped them over and pinned her arms. She struggled at first, but he held firm. He saw a look of pain in her eyes that shook him to the core. He leaned down and kissed her with the slow, oozing tenderness that he always did when making love to her. He could feel her starting to relax, but her mind was too wrapped up in pain to completely give in.
He pushed himself up onto his elbows, slowly and soothingly moving in and out. Her whole body became putty in his arms. She could feel it, the warm rush of painful pleasure only he could bring.
"Just let me love you" he whispered.
She began to cry. She gave herself to him, gave him her suffering so he could relieve it.
Tony held her while she talked away her pain, brushing her hair and occasionally kissing her forehead. He could feel her breathing become even, and knew she had fallen into a hellish sleep. He would watch her all night; take away the nightmares when she couldn't.
He looked at his beautiful wife and smiled, her spirit was remarkable, and he was just glad to share it with her.