A/N: Hello all. Okay, here is the re-written Chapter 11. I had some issues I found after I published it and had to pull the chapter until I fixed it.

A quick shout out to Ashley and Madison, new readers of mine. Ashley gets the gold star for long, very lengthy reviews (or questions...) for every single chapter she read. And that's a lot of chapters, lol!

Chapter Eleven: Haunting

'Cause you are not alone

And I am there with you

And we'll get lost together

Until the light comes pouring through

~ Lost by Michael Buble

Shana had been moved out of ICU fifteen hours after she had come out of surgery. She is still being highly monitored by the hospital staff, mostly from fear of the wrath of Christian Grey, myself and the eventual wrath of Shana Grey Cross. Every test says she is doing well, that most of the drugs had been purged from her body and should leave very little to worry about in the long run. Something I am sure would please me to hear if only she would wake up.

Since being found she has been rarely conscious. She has responded to little stimulation at all. The most I have noticed has been the flutter of her eyelids, as if she is asleep. The doctors have said that this could happen, a result from the trauma she has gone through, a way of escaping everything until she feels safe. The longer she is unresponsive the more worried I become. How can I not? How can anyone not be worried? For her to lie there, so still, so quiet... so not like her? Can she hear us? Does she hear the muffle of words her father says to her? The restraint in her mother's voice as she tries to ensure everyone that this is "normal" and is "expected" and that "when she is ready she will open her eyes and not a minute before"? Does she hear me? Does she know that I am here?

It is the end of the day now and visiting hours are officially over. Her family had all been here, spent some time with her and with each other, comforting each other and encouraging one and all that she never gives up so we can't either. It's something I refuse to even consider. She will wake up. She will be fine after the debacle in surgery. She will come out stronger and better for the battles she has fought.

For now, though, I stand here quietly, in the darkened corner of her room watching her sleep. I tell myself that one of the reasons she hasn't awakened yet is because of the pain medication she has been given (and that has been double checked by the guard). Every hour I consider requesting that they stop giving it to her. Allow her to feel the pain if only to help her claw her way out of the darkness... But then I berate myself for being a coward and selfish. I could never inflict pain on her. Not ever again. She needs this time to heal and feel safe (or so her mother says) so I have to allow her that. I have to allow the doctors and nurses to come in and monitor, check, and administer everything she needs. I have to allow it, despite my selfish desires.

A yawn escapes me as I remove my jacket and drape it over the chair near the window and pick up a duffle bag Taylor had dropped off earlier. I used the restroom, and changed into the packed pajamas. Not what I would have worn at home (which would have been nothing at all, or a pair of boxers, depending on my wife...) but a pair of worn grey sweat pants and black tee shirt. After all, it's not like there is privacy in the room, what with the intrusions every four hours or the guards still at the door.

I had considered for half a moment to have the guard in the room take up his position outside with the other guard at the door. I had half considered it because as soon as the thought had formed a hundred voices raised up in my mind, yelling at me with high pitched, screeching noises that he's here for her protection and he had to remain here. Not that he would have listened to me. After all, he wasn't on my payroll. Not anymore.

I left the light on in the restroom, partially closing the door. For now it would do as a nightlight, and hopefully the nurses wouldn't have to turn on the overhead light when they came in again to check on her. I assured myself that was a good, reasonable excuse, but the real reason was that I wanted to see Shana. Watch her as she slept. I wanted more then that, of course. I wanted to curl up with her, wrap my arms around her and feel the heat of her body next to mine. My mind, some primitive part of it, kept trying to tell me that she would only be safe wrapped in my arms. It was a truth that I wanted to believe. Believe deep down to the very core of me.

She had been moved back into her "hospital suite" with the larger bed so that I could lay with her, but I couldn't. She was still surrounded by wires and tubes and to be honest, I was afraid of what would happen if I had another nightmare. I didn't want to even think about what damage another nightmare of mine could cause to her, what would happen to all of those tubes and wires and alarms. I could never live with myself if I caused her anymore pain.

I pulled a chair up to her bed, this time on her left side so I could hold her hand. I wrapped my fingers lightly around hers and brought them to my lips. I inhaled deeply as I kissed her delicate fingers. She carried the smell of surgery and the hospital on her skin. I didn't care. She was here. She was alive and she was safe. I rubbed her fingers along my jaw, wincing at the thought that I should have shaved and then a smile came to me. She liked my morning stubble. I rubbed her fingers again and then noticed for the first time that her wedding rings were gone.

Of course they're gone, I thought, closing my eyes and kissing where they used to rest. Stolen and hawked by now. I reached over to the table where my cell had been recharging. I quickly scrolled through the list of contacts and sent a call out.

"Mr. Cross? Uh, sir! What can I do for you?" The voice on the other end was confused, but not sleepy.

"I'm sorry it's so late Bertram." Bertram was a long time employee of Tiffany's and has for many years helped me with my purchases and alerted me to items that I may be interested in. Mostly they were items for family members until recently.

"Not at all! Not at all! What can I do for you?" I smiled, glad to know that service, good service, can still be bought.

"I need to replace Shana's wedding rings."

"Shana's wedding... oh! Yes! Of course! How is she? We've all been praying for her and for you." It tugged my heart to hear his words even if the thought had been bought with years of service.

"Thank you. She is... healing." What else could I say?

"Do you want exact duplicates? They were one-of-a-kinds..."

"Yes, exact. I don't want her to ever have to remember they were missing." I paused and glanced at her bare hand before reaching for it. I hated letting go of her now, missing her fingers in mine. "When they are ready, call Taylor."

"Of course, Mr. Cross."

"Goodnight Bertram."

"Uh... Goodnight Mr. Cross." With the call done, I could now relax with Shana.

My Sleeping Beauty.

I kissed her naked fingers again, sighing into them. To be able to hold them, caress them, sigh into them... I can finally begin to erase the fear that had settled in my heart. My heart had been so... cold and empty. All those years since we had been together... I had been so angry, so... hateful. Even against her. But then, somehow, after we had tried to out gun each other on financial opportunities, somehow, when I would win, it never filled my empty heart. What had dripped into the cavernous abyss of my heart was the battles. The struggle to win, to say checkmate. Every time I did there was something, some feeling. Some vague feeling that neither satisfied nor punished.

I am brilliant, smart to a point of awe, but for some reason it seemed to take a long time to figure out why I had felt something odd each and every time we fought for control over something. I eventually realized that when we battled that it was for a chance. A small chance. A chance that I could spend time with her even though I hadn't been invited to. I spent millions of dollars on subterfuge, using the information to determine which product or company she would go after next. Wherever she went, whatever she was buying, I wanted it too. Yes, obviously I had become a thorn in her side (okay, maybe a whole thorn bush jammed into her side...) but the fact was that I was there.

I was there.

I was there, at her side then just like I am here now.

I kissed her fingers again and then placed a soft kiss in the center of her palm. I kept it there, wishing beyond wishes that she could feel it. It's comforting, but it's just not right. I want to feel her fingers caress my cheeks. I want to feel her love wrap around me as she gazes at me. I want to feel her warmth pressed against mine. Hell! I'd even settle for her fingers tapping angrily as she growls at me from across the room. I want to know the feeling again as her fingers wrap around me as I pulse and throb in her-

Stop that! Put that on the back burner you selfish asshole! She may be here but she's hurt and unconscious! And who the fuck knows! She may never want you like that again!

I closed my eyes unable to even face the possibility of that truth. My conscience was right though. She is hurt and unconscious and that is the priority.

I leaned over from the chair to her bed and laid my head down on the mattress and then gently rested her hand, palm down, on my head. I thought that maybe, if I did that, her fingers would move, telling her body to wake up enough so she could run her fingers through my hair.

She didn't move.

"Shana, I love you." My words echoed in the stillness of the room. It seemed wrong to say those words. No, that's not right. It doesn't seem... odd, I guess, to say those four little words. It's the lack of response from her that makes it odd. I am not certain what I should say, or could say that would make it seem more natural. Then I remembered what she had been forced to listen to during her days of captivity. Those repetitive lies that were drilled into her. I don't want to think about those words, those lies. I don't want to even consider the possibility that there was a chance, no matter how microscopic it may be, that she would believe them for even a fraction of a second.

"I love you and I am here. I won't leave you. I won't give up on you. You are safe." My mantra for her. While she fights to heal and return to me I will say these words until she believes them. Until she believes in us. I don't want her to ever have a single doubt about us.

I said them all night until sleep over took me, dragging me into the land of dreams.

It was dark and cold and I could hear thunder crackle in the air. I was alone and afraid. Not for myself, no. I was afraid for Shana. She was here, somewhere. I just didn't know where. I have to find her. I have to help her. I told her she was safe and that I was here, but now... I don't know if either is true.

I tried to run down the dark, moist corridors of this nightmarish maze, but my feet were like lead. I tried to call out to her, but I couldn't hear my own voice. I tried to listen, but I couldn't hear anything. I struggled to move forward and saw that there was a door in front of me. Only a few yards away. It took everything I had to get close enough to the door to open it, and when I did, she wasn't there.

Corinne was.

"Gideon! There you are! Where have you been? We have to choose a venue! It's getting so late, and your waffling-" I turned away, the door slamming closed on her words. I didn't want to know why she was here, or why she thought we were still engaged. That had ended so long ago and I was married now. Wasn't I? Or was that a dream?

"Gideon!" I turned to find another door that was opened, Corinne standing there again, dressed in white. She was grinning as if she had won some huge prize and in the pit of my stomach I knew that I was that prize. I felt sick and... dirty. I wasn't a prize, a reward. I wasn't to be won or lost at the throw of some universal dice. And, I wasn't hers. "What do you think?" I turned away, the door closing as I left. I faced down a long, dark corridor and had no idea where I was. But more importantly, where was Shana? Why can I only find Corinne?

"Gi-de-on!" Corinne's voice sang out loudly from three doors in front of me. "Choose the right door and live happily ever after." Three doors... All the same. Is Shana behind one? Middle? Right? I raised my hand but couldn't feel the knob as I reached to open the door on the right. I heard Corinne shriek as the door opened.

Shana wasn't there, but neither was Corinne. A small rush of relief ran through me to have found not Corinne, but Ava. A woman I once loved but who was now a good friend.

"Gideon, ignore her. Follow your heart. She knows you are here and that you love her." I heard Ava's voice in my head more then in my ears and felt comforted by her warm smile. "Try again." She waved her arm in the air, indicating I should try another of the doors as another crack of thunder rattled through the air. I turned away from Ava and tried the left door. I knew that Corinne was behind the middle door. She was always too obvious. Her shouts of curses thundered around me as I reached for the door handle. I knew I had chosen right. Shana would be here.

The door didn't want to open no matter how hard I pulled on it. I called for Ava to help me, but she was no longer there. I pulled and struggled with all my might to pry the door open enough to squeeze past it, and when I did, Shana wasn't there. Corinne was. Only this time it was a Corinne I didn't know. Older, worn out and... hateful. I wasn't certain it was Corinne at first. She had been so young, lively and... happy in the past. But the woman before me... time had not treated her well.

"Why Gideon?" I couldn't speak, the words frozen in my throat. I didn't know what she was asking about. "Why what" is what I would have asked, had I been able to. "Why couldn't you love me? Why did you have to destroy all that we were?" I couldn't answer her. It didn't matter. She didn't matter. Only Shana mattered and I still hadn't found her. I ran from Corinne, the storm bearing down on me as I ran looking for her. I tried to call out to her, but the thunder overruled what little sound I could make.

"Gideon." I ran harder, forcing my legs to move despite the fact that they didn't want to co-operate. "Gideon." I knew Corinne was chasing me, calling me. I didn't care. I had to find Shana. She is here, somewhere. I just have to-

"Gideon!" I bolted up, falling to the floor, completely disoriented as my mind tried to tell me it had been a dream. A... nightmare. Not a nightmare like the past. Just a... different kind of nightmare. "Shit! Are you okay?" I looked up and saw Mia, concerned etched over her features as she tried to help me get to my feet. I waved her off with a chuckle.

"Give me a few minutes. My legs are asleep." She nodded, her worries relaxing as I rubbed at my face, trying to remove the last of the dream. I heard another faint rumble of thunder from my dreams and turned to look at the windows. The drapes were partially closed but it was clear that the sun was out and shining. Mia walked over to the small stereo that housed an iPod and turned the volume of the recorded rain down.

Mia pulled the curtains aside allowing the golden light of the day to pour in. She stood there solemnly, her mind drifting further then her eyes on the view... "Shana... Has she reacted at all? With the rain?"

I shook my head as I made my way up from the floor, my legs still tingling from falling asleep. I walked over to Mia and pulled her into a hug. "We have to give her time."

Her hug became a bit more fierce before she let go of me and then I saw her pull out the handkerchief I had given her before. She clutched it tightly after dabbing at her eyes and the act seemed so natural I knew that she hasn't let the small cloth leave her side since I gave it to her. "Thank you," she whispered, dabbing once more at the corner of her eye. "I didn't mean to wake you..."

"Trust me, I'm glad you did." I walked back over to Shana's bedside but she hadn't moved an inch during the night. "How is Luke doing?"

She turned away from me again, setting her gaze back out the window. I watched as her body stiffened while she employed the "Grey Facade Of Steel". I was very familiar with the motion, having seen Shana do it countless times before. I walked up to her and set my hands on her shoulders. They were so tense they felt like granite beneath her skin.

"He's getting worse, I think. He... I don't know..."

"He what, Mia?"

"He wants me to leave," I had to strain to hear her whisper. "He insists he isn't any good for me. That... he's..." She sniffled a deep sob before she continued. "He says he's not worth it. That he's... worthless..."

She cried into her handkerchief, her shoulders shuddering from the deep pain in her heart. I turned her around and wrapped my arms around her tightly. I know I whispered things to her, but I couldn't be certain that they even passed my lips. She reminded me so much of Ireland. I could never deal well with Ireland's tears and now I found myself feeling the same way when Mia, a woman as strong as her sister and as vulnerable as mine, let the world see her tears.

"We'll get him help, Mia. I promise we wont let him slip through the cracks. He helped save Shana. I owe him. I may forever owe him. I know what I am going to say next is going to sound... stupid, but... just go with it, okay?" She nodded into my shoulder. "Don't let it get to you. We'll figure something out. I promise."

After a few minutes Mia found her strength again and stepped out of our hug. She dabbed at her fallen tears and I excused myself to use the restroom, leaving her with her sister. I was brushing my teeth when Mia knocked on the bathroom door.

"You have a message," she said, her small hand reaching through a crack in the door. She had opened it only wide enough to admit her hand and my phone, and quickly closed it when I took it from her. I read the message. It was short and to the point: "The gym." The number was unfamiliar but the message wasn't.

"Mia, I have to run out for a bit... will you...?"

"Yep, I can stay all day if you need me to." I thanked her and leaned over Shana. I kissed her forehead, feeling a familiar release of tension recede from her brow as I did so. I whispered to her that Mia was here and that I loved her and would return soon. Then I headed out, but promised Mia I wouldn't be gone all day and hoped that I was right.

"The gym" was a neutral location in the heart of Brooklyn. At one point in the building's history it had been used as a slaughter house, a speak-easy, a warehouse and now that the neighborhood was in revitalization mode, it is a gym. It still had the bones of a sturdy beast, the bricks still showed as if they were handmade, the majority of them being original to the building. Graffiti has been scrubbed off or painted over, newer, brighter lights lit up the parking lot next to the building and there was even security on patrol at night. A few years ago the building was only for the gym, but the facility only occupies two of the five stories. The upper three levels have been converted into lofts that are mostly used now as art studios.

I entered the first floor of the building and headed to the freight elevator that is used as the main lift for the entire building. Inserting a key into the slot below the floor buttons, I activated the elevator to take me to a level that has no button. A floor that "doesn't exist" if one were looking for it.

The lift stopped with a slightly muffled clang a few minutes later and I raised the gates to exit. I walked down a short hallway and came to an abrupt end. There were two small storage rooms off this hall way, one on either side of me, but I was headed for neither. Instead I pushed on the sconce that was centered on the wall I was facing and the wall and sconce swung back away from me. I stepped forward and closed the wall behind me.

"You look like shit, Cross," Christian said, his arms crossed in front of his chest as he leaned against the wall nearest me.

"I just hope I look better then you," I replied, holding my hand out to him. He shook it and nodded for me to follow him. "What's up?"

"How is she?"

"She is still not awake." He nodded, saying nothing more until we entered a small, darkened room that was lit by computer screens and one desk lamp.

"Marcus found something that you have to know about. It's a lead but it may be coincidence and nothing more." I looked at Christian for a moment before turning to Marcus. If it was not a lead, Christian wouldn't have called me like he had.

Marcus Willowby was known as Zeus in his circle, and he was rather infamous. He was wanted in eight countries and banished from twelve others for "computer crimes". He has recently taken a leave of absence from his current employer and "volunteered" his time to help Shana. I was not eager to allow him to help, not knowing him personally until Taylor approached me about him. There were three things Taylor said that made me accept Marcus: Welch hates him. He is the second best in the world in anything dealing with computers. Shana taught him everything he knows. I wanted to know why Welch hates the man, but that can wait. Right now, if he's good, and apparently he's brilliant, we need him on our team. A team no one knows about.

"What have you got?" Marcus looked up at me and grinned.

"It's going to take a bit to confirm anything, but Shana's systems and Welch's, and all the others... they weren't hacked." He leaned back in his chair, resting his hands behind his head as he let his words sink in. I had a hard time trying to understand what he said. After all, how did it all "go down" if the systems weren't hacked?

"They had to have been," I argued. He shook his head at me, his grin widening. "Get that fucking smirk off your face and explain then."

"They weren't hacked. Well, not the way you think of hacking." He leaned forward and typed a few keys on a keyboard and behind him a schematic appeared on the wall. "All the systems were designed by Shana. Every bit, every byte. All the parts were created by companies around the globe and put together by another company before being delivered to their destinations. Now, this is unusual because in many cases, all computers are built as are all their parts, in one company. Maybe not all in the same facility, but you understand what I mean." I nodded, still a bit awestruck that Shana had been the "designer" of the systems. Apparently there were still things about her I still had to learn. Or hope that one day she would trust me enough to tell me all her secrets.

"So... If they weren't hacked, what did happen to them?"

"They were built with an access key, or some would call it a back door. One Shana did not put into the design." The schematic on the wall turned and zoomed into what I could assume was a "chip"? and zoomed further into it until I felt like I was peering into another world. Either way, it was all Greek to me.

"You are telling me that somehow, someone, what? Replaced parts in all these computers that Shana had designed?" Marcus shook his head. "Then explain it to me!" I heard my voice echo off the banks of computers that surrounded us and tried to tamp down on my temper.

"No, they didn't "replace" them, they installed them. The parts are original to the computers I have already checked. They look and act exactly as Shana had designed them, but hidden within was an additional set of programs." He went on to explain things, schematics pulling up and switching back and forth on the wall behind him but I couldn't follow what he was telling me. I should have. I could have. I wasn't following him because he was being to technical. No. That's not why. I was not able to follow him because of something else he had said.

All of her systems, everyone she had designed, they had been built compromised. Someone, a long time ago, had decided to target Shana. Someone's been sitting, waiting quietly in the dark until it was the right time to strike. Who could she have pissed off that long ago? Who could have had the money to have afforded this? To have planned this? Why? What the hell could she have done that could have fueled this kind of fire of hate and vengeance?

I turned away from Marcus, leaving him to drone on and on as my mind tried to grasp this new concept that this had been planned. Not just planned, but... stewing, simmering, waiting for just the right moment to come to a boil so that everything she worked for could be at risk along with her security and her life.

"This would have taken a good chunk of cash," Christian said as he walked up besides me. I nodded, the thoughts still spinning in my head. "It's not Elena. She never had that kind of cash or patience."

"Who else knows?"

"Just the three of us." I looked up into his darkened eyes. "Not even Taylor," he said, answering my unasked question.

"So... what do we do now?" God I hope he had an idea because I was empty right now.

"What we've been doing. Remain enemies, use burners, and plan without technology."

"Old School," I grumbled.

"Old School," he agreed. He looked at his watch and then back at me. "You have to get back to her. I'll be by in about three hours." I nodded and we shook hands again before I entered back into the lift.

Before the door closed I studied the man that was the brother of the woman I loved. "Did you know? About her computer skills, I mean?"

"No. Taylor told me, but only after Marcus contacted him."

"Why would she not tell us something like that?" He shrugged and it made my mind wonder.

"Look, I know what you're thinking and you can't. Not about this and not now." I looked back at him and watched as he ground his teeth in thought, the muscles in his cheek twitching with the effort. "There is a lot in Shana's life that has happened or that she has done that I can't judge her for. She kept us in the dark for ten years to protect us. Was she just protecting us from Elena, despite my continued... "friendship" with the bitch? Or was there more? Did something follow her? Is it why she turned down your proposal the first time? To protect you as well? For whatever reasons she has for not telling us everything, you have to admit there are things you haven't told her as well." I nodded though at the moment I couldn't think of a single thing I haven't told her. "Follow the plan. I have her doctor flying in tomorrow. He will get set up at the house. As soon as she's able to leave the hospital, get her there."

"Thanks Grey."

He tilted his head to me. "You're welcome, Cross." He turned and headed back towards the wall that was a door and I headed back up to the world above to be with my Sleeping Beauty.