Disclaimer: I do not own any of the characters affiliated with 24.

A/N: Hey guys! Okay so I've had this written for a while and it's kind of been a working progress when I was lacking ideas for my other story. I was going to wait until that was finished before posting this but I guess I'm getting kind of impatient and I would really like to hear your opinions on this. It's my first serious attempt at angst so let me know what you think. Inspiration for this was sparked when I watched the end of Season 3 one weekend and I just had to get something down. Your thoughts/critiques are greatly appreciated as I'm not sure how well this turned out…I hope you like it! (PS: I do have a few other short chapters ready to be added on if anyone is interested, if not I shall simply get back to work on my other story!)…

T/M of course…

Tainted

Breathing was an effort now, as Michelle lay alone in her bed that night, and every night as she had since Tony was sent to prison. Every spasm of her diaphragm seemed to cause a painful knot to form in her chest.

Everything caused pain these days. Getting up in the morning and dressing for work as good as killed her each and every time; for Tony was not around to beg for her to come back to bed with him, or wrap his arms around her while she poured her coffee and leaned over the sink, reading the paper. And at work, while she went through the motions of her new job, she knew Tony's eyes weren't on her, watching her. That he wasn't sitting a few meters away, grinning to himself while Michelle tried to focus. He hadn't been able to do that for a long time. Coming home at night to a dinner of cold cereal or leftover pizza did not hold the same appeal it had the last time she was alone; that had been by choice though... Dinners, now, were when Tony was cooking, throwing in a few well placed comments about Michelle's meager abilities.

Sweetheart, if you promise not to cook I will take you with me anywhere.

Tony had chuckled a he said this, as he always did at mention of her cooking. And she loved him for it. Loved him for accepting her, for understanding her, for cherishing her, but most importantly, for loving her back.

But breathing, well, that was the most painful of all. For breathing was something that couldn't be avoided, that couldn't be ignored. And as Michelle lay on her back, staring at the uneven ceiling of the room, breathing was all there was. It consumed her, surrounded her, even suffocated her. It forced sobs up from the pit of her stomach to the back of her throat where she'd already exhausted every attempt to try to hold them at bay. No matter how long her days were, how badly she worked herself to the bone, she could never sleep at night. For her breaths should not have been the only ones in the room. But they were…and the notion just about destroyed her every time.

She rolled over and checked the alarm clock. The red numbers blinked incessantly, as if trying to emphasize how late it really was, and how long ago she should've fallen asleep. They did this every day, the numbers. They were all that existed to remind her of what she should be doing, that time passed whether Michelle could deal with it or not, and that she had to live her life even though Tony should be there, living it with her.

I should be there with you…

Everything in existence seemed to taunt Michelle with memories of Tony, as if the world was relishing in her torment. A simple flower on the side of the road brought about a flood of memories, and most of the time Michelle had no idea where they came from. A flower shouldn't have that kind of power over her; it was just a flower after all. It shouldn't make life more difficult than it already was, flowers were supposed to be simple, delicate, pleasant. But for Michelle, everything was tainted; numbers, flowers, and even breathing.

Michelle wondered how much she had really changed. Everyone told her she wasn't herself anymore. She was cold, emotionless, indifferent. The seemingly accusatory comment had elicited a rather harsh one of her own: Really, what the hell did you expect to happen?

It was Jack who had received this retort. He'd called a few days ago, checking up on her. CTU, it seemed, was finally pulling itself together after all that had been ruined with the Cordilla Virus outbreak. Erin Driscoll was director now, and Jack had been removed from his position. Jack was suffering just as much, if not more than Michelle was after that day, and she felt the need to take out her anger on him. For, in her mind, it was he who had let Tony down, he who had not managed to persuade a pardon out of President Palmer. Palmer would be leaving office in a few months, time was running out.

Michelle did not ask Jack how the whole thing was going, she knew if there was anything to report he would tell her. And despite herself, she knew Jack was trying, that he didn't need reminding of the numbers counting down on the clock with each passing day. If anyone understood the significance of those numbers, it was Jack. He didn't need reminding… he just needed for Michelle to have a little patience.

Tainted, everything was tainted; her life, her livelihood, her loves, her fears, her friendships, her…heart. It had all been tainted by that day. Death would have almost been preferred and it sickened Michelle to even think that. For the reason she was alive was the same reason for her polluted existence. It was the reason she couldn't stand to be in her own skin anymore. It was her fault this was all happening, that Tony was locked away in a cold jail cell, sick, hurt, and god knows what else. She was the reason he'd lost his job, his freedom, everything. It was all because of her.

These thoughts had eaten away at her for months now. Especially since she'd transferred to Seattle…she'd abandoned him because she couldn't deal with it. And yet Tony's reassurances kept playing in her head, they were the only reason she hadn't given up on everything entirely.

Baby you're alive…I can live with that, even in prison.

Tears stung Michelle's eyes as she thought back to the moment when Tony had spoken those words to her. There was no doubt in her mind that he meant them with nothing but genuine sincerity. He was in prison…for her…and he was okay with that. The least Michelle could do was be grateful. It didn't matter how she felt about the matter, if she'd rather herself have been carried out of the Chandler Plaza Hotel in a body bag, or dumped in a ditch somewhere by Saunders men. Tony wanted her alive, happy, living her life. She could do that for him. She could find a way to forgive herself for being the reason he was in jail since that was what he wanted her to do. For him, she could do it.

I can't believe I almost lost you.

It was selfish. Michelle was selfish. Part of the reason the thought of Tony in jail was eating away at her was because she wanted him there, with her. Cuddled up against her, fingers entwined in her hair, not needing to ask what was bother her for he would already know. He always knew. Instead he would whisper words of comfort to her, kissing her neck and ear lobe every now and then, because of the simple fact that he could. An arm would remain securely wrapped around her, alleviating any reservations or fears she might have. Because Tony was there, and somehow, no matter what was tormenting her, that thought made everything okay. He loved her, regardless of what she did or didn't do, said or didn't say, whether she faced a problem head-on or collapsed in his arms uninhibitedly at the end of the day. He was there to pick up the pieces. To hold her while she sobbed, or coax a few tears out of her when she was fighting to hold back. He let her know it was okay to show a little weakness in front of him, she always had. She felt safe with him, always remained convinced that he would never judge her based on what upset her. It could be anything; a death, a day from hell, or a broken nail. Even if he couldn't understand it himself, Tony would remain by her side.

I trust you with my life…

Now she needed him more than ever. This time it was the worst type of ache she'd ever experienced, it was heartbreak. Every one seemed to be able to grasp some idea of what she might be going through, but no one could do what Tony did. No one could really make her feel like it would all work out, that she would be okay, survive this. No one else loved her like that, that much, and no one ever would.

Michelle realized she was sobbing into her pillow now; her mind was clouded as though she was falling into nothing but complete and utter oblivion. And there was no one there to catch her. She was alone. Racked with the grief as every memory, touch, sensation coursed through her body like a bolt of lightening through metal.

And, as suddenly as they'd started, the sobs stopped, and one coherent thought remained in Michelle's mind that somehow made everything seem that much more bearable. Tony's voice resonated through her, penetrating Michelle to the very depths of her soul… and offering her the lifeline she needed to survive the night…every night…

Hey…I love you.