A/N: It's finally ready to begin: my version of what happened to Michelle from the end of S3 up until just before S4. I'm kicking things off with a prologue, but please note that it is really not indicative of the chapters to come, most noticeably in that the rest of the story is written in the third person. I simply felt that this needed to be written as a prelude to the story to come. The first chapter will be up shortly. Feedback would be much appreciated.

Prologue

"I just tried to see Tony. Security said you're denying me access?"

"He's a prisoner, Michelle."

"I'm his wife! He did what he did to save my life."

"I'm aware of that. And because of that, he's being charged with treason."

More incredulous than anything else, I respond, "Treaso—Brad, look, I know that he broke protocol by taking Jane Saunders out of CTU, but he never would have given her up…"

"Michelle—"

"… and because of him, we were able to catch Saunders."

He rises. "We had Saunders two hours ago. And Tony let him escape." I can feel shock and dismay displaying themselves prominently in my features; I am far too tired and taken aback to mask my emotions. For once at a loss for words, I stare numbly at Brad.

"No one told you?" he asks with some kind of perverse satisfaction, "We had Saunders trapped in a building downtown. We were ready to drop the net," he says angrily, "And Tony pulled units out of position so Saunders could get away."

I look down and shake my head in disbelief; I am unable to believe that my Tony, my hero, could do something so irresponsible. I will the tears not to fall. "Brad, it was an impossible choice," I almost whisper, and even to me the words sound false, even to me it is clear that I don't believe the words I am saying for one moment.

"No, it wasn't," he says decisively, returning to his seat. "Tony has a sworn duty to protect the people of this country. Putting your life was treasonous. And he's going to prison for it."

"Brad," I say weakly, still too stunned and too disgusted with Tony to have any real argument, but nonetheless trying to stand up for my husband.

"I want you to put yourself in his place, Michelle. If you would have made the same call, you should resign right now."

He smirks at me, and I stare back, powerless to make my mouth form the words that my mind and heart are screaming at me. Of course I wouldn't have done that! I could never, ever live with myself if I was responsible for the deaths of millions many people. No matter who it is, one person is never more important than all those lives.

I stand stoically in a tech room, monitoring feed and overseeing subordinates when Tony walks in. I turn and stare at him, anguish heavy on my face. Tony turns to the techs, saying "Could you give us a minute, please?" They oblige without hesitation; CTU is loyal to Tony and loyal to me.

Slowly, he turns to face me. I find myself almost unable to meet his eyes. I am simply too scared about the situation he's in. The situation we're in. "What's going on?" I ask softy, fully aware that the tears are audible in my voice.

"I'm back in custody," he tells me resignedly, " Hammond's taking me down to Federal." He tries to keep the fear and heaviness from his voice, but we both know how badly he's failing.

I can feel the tears forming behind my eyes. I am unable to reconcile myself to the thought that Tony, my Tony, Tony who's risked his life more times than I can count, all for the sake of the country—the idea that he's being taken to prison, even if he did make one really horrible decision.

"No. No, they can't do this. Not after everything you've accomplished today." Not even if you did something not even I'm sure I can ever forgive you for. But it's stillwrong; I know how wrong this is. It's wrong.

And on a more selfish level, I can't stand the thought of Tony being taken away from me. Even more than that, I recoil from the thought of Tony suffering the horrors of prison. It's unthinkable that they could do that to him after all he's sacrificed for the country. And he has; he's given everything to the job and gotten nothing in return. I try to blink back the tears.

He looks at me, clearly hurting, but tenderly nonetheless. "Michelle," he murmurs, moving close to me, "I put your well-being above the country's." Stop reminding me why I should be slapping you right now. "Nothing anybody can say will ever change that fact." I look away and try not to break down just yet. I can't look at him right now. I can't see in his eyes how real this is; I can't let myself remember that he's done this, and the repercussions are going to be very, very real.

"But they can't—they can't put you in prison," I insist. I know that they can, but what I really mean is that they can't put him in prison with any ethical justification. He's given up too much for them. I meet his eyes again as I search for reassurance—reassurance that I know I will not see—that maybe, just maybe, this won't happen. But I've been in this field too long to think that just because things are horribly, horribly wrong doesn't mean that they don't happen, and doesn't mean that they're not supported by the government.

But, in response to my words, he nods vigorously. "Yes they can," he says shattering the dream world I'd woven in those few seconds. I shake my head, unable to accept the harsh, cruel reality, swallowing back tears. "And they will, for a long time, believe me."

I find myself once again unable to meet his eyes as I say, "Tony, don't talk like this!" As long as you say it, it can't be true. Don't say it. Don't make it real. The words are spoken. It's done. It's real. Damn you for making it real!

"Tony, don't talk like this, I—"

"Michelle…" he whispers, cutting me off."

"I can't—"

"Michelle…"

"I won't give up on you." No matter how much I resent what you did, and no matter how wrong it is. It's even more wrong for them to put you in prison after all the good you've done for them. You're still my Tony, and you're still right.It's not fairfor them to do this when you're still right.

"Michelle, don't do this."

"I can't—" He cuts me off by pulling me in, and kissing me hard. Shaking, I kiss him back, desperate to feel his lips on mind, desperate for his touch, and desperate for assurance that he's still with me, however briefly. His touch, even now, manages to comfort me. I clasp him to me, feeling his body against mine,

Too soon, he breaks the kiss and steps back. But then he cups my now tear-stained face in his hands. I don't know when, exactly, I started to let the tears fall.

"Baby, you're alive." His voice cracks, "And nobody else got hurt because of what I did. And that's more than I'd hoped for. I can live with that," he says, his voice shaking now, and his confidence more miserably false-sounding than before, "Even in prison."

A guard comes in. "Tony," he calls, emotionlessly, as though to remind me just how pathetically emotional I am, "It's time." He steps in and reaches for Tony. I give his arm one last squeeze, and hold onto him tight before I know I have to let go.

Tony pulls away and leaves, looking at me over his shoulder with such a mixture of hurt, love, and regret, that I actually hear a shattering sound. I am awoken rudely to reality as I hear the door close and I stand there, crying.