A/N After a very long hiatus, I am back. I also still love reviews. Enjoy!

Eighteen Hours

1:27pm

The room was empty, save for a few thousand dollars worth of medical equipment in one corner. She sat up on the exam table, legs crossed beneath her and tapping tiredly at her keyboard. There was nothing left to do anymore. Saunders was no longer a problem and they were mere minutes away from acquiring the final courier. It would all be over and she would have to wait.

Sunny Macer had returned for a few minutes and said a quick hello before going back to the field. She was helping Nicole Duncan coordinate the quarantine zones and supervising the medical workers. She removed the hood of her Hazmat suit and they'd spoken briefly through a phone before she'd excused herself again and got back to work. It would take days for everything to be sorted on their end.

When Sunny left she felt alone again. Being in isolation was...well, isolating. She wanted to be home or with her husband or someone - anyone. Anyone who wasn't sick or getting sick or on the brink of...

She just wanted to be home.

13 hours to go.

4:53pm

He hadn't slept in 36 hours and just over a day ago he'd been shot...but he came to see her anyway. His face appeared in front of the glass, eyes heavy and cheeks ashen. His hair was a mess and his shirt was rumpled in a way that looked beyond saving.

He picked up the phone and his eyes locked on hers.

"Hey," he breathed.

Her vision flooded with fresh tears, but she maintained her composure.

"Hey."

"How ya doin in here?"

"I'm okay. Just ready to go home."

He nodded carefully, fingers reaching out to brush the glass beside her cheek.

"How much longer are they keepin you here?"

She cleared her throat. "I have to stay until 3am."

"I'll come get you..."

"No no, you need to rest. They said they can take me home."

"I don't want someone else to take you home. I want to take you home."

She smiled tiredly, tears spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them.

"I'll be there soon," she cleared her throat quickly. "You should get some rest."

He looked like he might protest, eyes locking with hers. Instead he agreed quietly, his own eyes watering a little.

"Okay."

"I'll see you in a few hours," she murmured into the receiver. They both hesitated before finally hanging up. He was reluctant to leave her, but he listened (for once) and soon she was alone again.

10 hours to go.

9:19pm

She hadn't planned on breaking down in practically hysterical sobs until she was in her own house with her husband. Every modicum of composure she possessed was being used to get her through this quarantine. But she was tired and she was so, so sad for the agents they'd lost and the people in that hotel...When she got a chance to watch the news feed it all came flooding back and she just couldn't contain herself anymore.

She crumpled up bonelessly in a heap on a chair and sobbed without restraint. She had no energy left to control herself. When the tears finally stopped it was because she was exhausted and for a few minutes she might've even dosed off. She couldn't really remember. Her neck and back were sore when she got up again and she looked around to see if anything else had changed. The news story was over (for now) and she turned on something mindless to distract herself. Not that that was really possible right now.

She just really wanted to go home.

5 hours to go.

12:04am

Sunny Macer came back at midnight.

"Hey Michelle," she smiled tiredly. "How are you holding up?"

Michelle looked up weakly and shrugged.

"I'm okay, I guess," she crossed the room towards the glass and studied Macer's expression.

"Is it contained?"

Macer nodded heavily. "The last of the victims have passed. They refused the capsules offered."

A lump welled in Michelle's throat and she nodded back, lost for words.

"In a few hours we can release you. I have a transport ready to take you home."

"Thank you," she murmured quietly.

"Do you want me to wait and make sure..."

"No...no, of course not. You should go home and get some rest. I'll be fine."

Sunny's lips pursed and she nodded tightly, before leaving the observation gallery.

3 hours to go.

3:00am

The NHS worker handed her a bag of clothes Tony had brought for her when he'd stopped by. She thanked them and disappeared into the bathroom to change. It wasn't much, though she was grateful to have something to wear besides hospital scrubs. She felt like enough of a freak right now as it was.

Even 18 hours later it was hard to believe she had survived. It was hard to process that she was one of three that had survived...one of three that had an immunity to the virus. What right did she have, really? She'd watched entire families - with young children - succumb to the effects, and led seven other agents to their deaths and she'd come out unscathed? How was that right? Where was the justice in that?

Pulling her jacket on, she glanced at her weary reflection in the mirror. She wouldn't sleep tonight. She felt like she might not sleep ever again.

Outside of the bathroom, the same NHS worker was there to escort her to the parking lot. She didn't catch their name. They did, however, return her belongings that had been sterilized, including her gun and her badge, and led her to the parking garage.

Her obnoxiously stubborn husband was there to meet her when she stepped outside in the cool, night air. He stood there in jeans and a leather jacket, leaning back against his car, arms folded loosely around himself. She couldn't will herself to be angry. She was too tired for that.

And she'd never been this happy to have his arms around her.

Not on their first date, not the first morning they woke up in bed together, not on her wedding day, never. His hands had never felt better sliding up and down her back and caressing her almost reverently.

She'd never loved him this much either, she thought.

"I told you I could get a ride," she whispered, not even a flit of annoyance behind her words. He exhaled shakily, burying his face into her shoulder as a hand nestled into her hair. Her own fingers slide through his, thumbing his neck and biting back tears.

"I wasn't sleeping anyway," he said simply. She was glad he rationalized it that way, telling her the truth would've probably cost her the last reign she held on her emotions again.

"Let's go home, baby," he breathed the endearment quietly, even though no one else was in earshot. She'd never been one for endearments outside of the bedroom, but with him other moments seemed intimate enough to exchange them.

She nodded tightly, pulling back just a little and letting him guide her into the car. They both wanted to say things but neither seemed to find the energy. Instead they rode home silently, clasping each others hands and staring at the road ahead of them.

When she stepped in the front door he offered to make her some tea, but she declined, heading upstairs to shower and change into clothes to sleep in. She settled on his t-shirt because it still smelled like him and it seemed to calm her.

Upon exiting the bathroom she saw him, passed out in the centre of their bed, holding an arm out as if waiting for her. She slid in beside him and cuddled close, needing to feel him against her tonight, even if she couldn't sleep.

Eighteen hours ago she'd miraculously escaped a death sentence inside the Chandler Plaza Hotel and now she was home.

With him.

And despite everything, that was good.