Thanks for reading…I am glad some of you like it…I realize this story is a lot darker then the actual show but I feel its more true to the characters and section as a whole. I wanted to make it more real, more of a prison of sorts…I wanted to create the kind of environment from which Michael's character would have come out of…hope you like and as always reviews are most welcomed, though this story is complete, I do welcome suggestions…

Chapter 4

This Life or the Next

Michael had come out of her office to find Jurgen standing a discreet distance away. Michael already feeling humiliated, used and bitter about what he had just done – and with whom could not bring himself to speak to him.

Jurgen seemed pained.

They locked eyes for a long moment and then he began to walk towards Michael, but Michael not wanting to deal with the situation he had just found himself unwillingly thrust into, dropped his eyes.

He turned and walked the opposite way, praying that Jurgen would not follow.

Jurgen paused, hung back and stared at Michael's retreating figure, noticed, with heartsick pain how Michael's shoulders now slumped ever so slightly with shame.

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Michael went back to his quarters and threw himself down upon his bed and laid there for a moment, thinking – remembering, his life before – when he had a sense of purpose, when he had believed in something.

It hadn't been easy when after his 2nd semester at the University; he received a call from his father's attorney to inform him that his parents had died in a car accident.

He was horrified by the news and terrified that Danielle, his sister and sixteen at the time had been with them.

She had not, she had been at a friends house… she was frantic with grief.

He left school in a hurry to go home and bury his parents, to be with Danielle. It was then he learned through his father's attorney that he and Danielle were left virtually penniless. It had been a blow to say the least but he had made it, somehow he had continued on – took care of his sister and managed to keep on at school.

Then he met Rene and things changed…

"It is all rot, pigs…what do they know about suffering, what do you know about it…rich man's son?"

Rene had changed his perspective, made him see the world in a different light.

He had changed him, made him strong…he would not lose his strength, his pride.

They would not win!

They would not get to him.

There was a sharp knock on his door, he knew who it was but he didn't want to talk – certainly not to Jurgen, their relationship had been strained at best since their heated discussion.

He got up slowly and went to the door, opened it.

Jurgen stood there; He pulled from his heavy coat a bottle of bourbon.

He held it up as a peace offering.

"You okay?" he asked and Michael realized that he was concerned, troubled even.

Michael let him in and nodding, looked to the bottle.

"What's that for?"

"Thought you could use it," he said as he handed it over to Michael, who shook his head, declining it.

"No thank you," he said and Jurgen shrugging his shoulders took a nice healthy slug for himself.

He was unsure of what to say, so he started slow.

"Michael… I am your superior that is a fact but I also want to be your friend, you can talk to me…"

"There is nothing to talk about," Michael said stubbornly.

He went back to his bed, sat down and looked away from Jurgen who stood before him, watching him.

Jurgen took another gulp from the bottle and placed it down on the table.

He came over to the bed, Michael looked up – waiting to see what he would do.

Jurgen was looking at him again with that same expression that always made him uneasy, especially now – after he knew with certainty that he was at their mercy.

He was there puppet and they would do with him what they liked.

"Can I sit?" Jurgen asked politely.

Michael looked up, caught his eye.

" I would rather you didn't," he said coolly and Jurgen nodded, went back to the table and took another sip.

His back was turned to Michael.

"If I told you I was sorry, would you believe me?"

His voice was low, seeped with bitterness.

Michael stood, went over to Jurgen and took the bottle from his hands, holding Jurgen's gaze, he took a long deliberate swallow of the fiery liquor.

He handed it back to Jurgen; his eyes so intense, so frighteningly bright.

They looked as if they had been light from within, they were eyes that Jurgen knew would haunt him the rest of his life.

He was sure that Michael could sense, feel his agitation, his pain – his heart was beating so hard, so fast.

"Yes," Michael told him, " I would believe you."

"Then I am sorry, truly – you are all I – I dreamed of as a pupil… you are gifted in so many ways, you give me hope," he paused, realizing how pathetic he sounded.

"You do not deserve this life," he finally added and Michael was looking at him curiously.

He was studying him and Jurgen felt uneasy.

He knew that Michael was always in control of himself, of any situation .

He was unbreakable and yet, Jurgen knew that inside Michael was in pain, seethed in bitterness and anger.

He took another sip, trying to calm himself but he was slowly realizing that he was doing nothing but getting drunk.

He had to go – why had he come, what had he hoped to accomplish?

"I deserve to burn in hell, in this life or the next, nothing more," Michael said quietly from his side and Jurgen heard but did not see his tears.

"That is not true," Jurgen said in a heated whisper.

Michael knew what Jurgen had to say, what he wanted to reveal to him and Michael knew that this was something; he could not give him, ever.

He would do what he had to do for section but he would not manipulate the one person he had left, who he truly respected.

He knew he could use Jurgen's feelings for him to his advantage but he would not prostitute himself for his own purpose.

That would be the last of his humanity and they could not take that from him.

They couldn't break him that easily.

"You should go…" Michael said cautiously.

Jurgen reached forward and gently touched Michael's face, trailed a finger down the length of his jaw.

Michael caught his hand and bringing it back down, he released it.

His eyes never left Jurgen's face.

"Don't."

It was one word but it was enough to bring Jurgen back to himself.

He blinked and then seemed embarrassed by his display of such blatant emotion. "Forgive me," he said and Michael nodded.

"Never ask that of me, please…"

It was the please that nearly brought Jurgen to the end of his tether.

He wanted to cry, he wanted to punch his fist through the very walls but what he wanted most of all was Michael in his arms, in his life…

"Alright," he said, wanting to say more but he couldn't.

He was terrified at that moment, he felt as if he would explode from frustration and desire, pain and loss.

If this was love then it was the most brutal feeling Jurgen had ever experienced.

It seemed capable of killing him.

He stepped away from Michael, the bottle clasped in his hand, his eyes distant and far away.

He went to the door but Michael did not follow.

"Goodnight," Jurgen said as he let himself out.

"Goodnight," Michael said quietly.

Jurgen did not look back as the door closed behind him.