Well, it's time for another chapter. Hope you guys are having a good summer but still have time to read and review :-). My life is getting busier by the day. I hope to be able to keep up the updates, at least at the rate they're coming now, but if it takes a little longer, please do understand. It's just the life of a PhD student.
Anyway, here's chapter 21. Hope you enjoy. Thanks to everyone who's still here & reading :). You are my reason for writing.
Day 50
Twisting and turning,
The night keeps me yearning
I'm burning alive
Sometimes it wasn't easy to fall asleep alone; but sometimes it was just as hard to fall asleep together. Tony and Michelle were first-hand witnesses to that fact.
"I'm turning in." she had told him around midnight that night while he was channel-surfing in the living room.
"Yeah." he'd replied without really caring too much or looking up from the TV.
Michelle went upstairs and five minutes later she was lying in their bed. Exhausted from yet another long day at the office that ended with a pointless argument at home, she fell asleep as soon as her head hit the pillow.
When all sounds from the bedroom upstairs had seized, Tony waited another five minutes, then switched off the TV and, with a sigh, stood from the couch.
He fetched the vodka bottle from the cabinet and took it to the kitchen where he poured himself a shot in a water glass. "Keep me dreamless. And thoughtless." he told the glass and downed the drink. Then he rinsed the glass well and put it in the dishwasher. The bottle went back to where it belonged and Tony to the downstairs bathroom. He came out a little while later, his face still humid from the cold water he'd splashed on his face to help him keep awake, like he usually did these days. Of course, he'd pretend to sleep, so Michelle wouldn't bug him; he'd count her breaths, the passing cars outside, whatever it took. Sleeping just wasn't much fun these days.
Slowly, he dragged himself up the stairs; he was in no rush to lie down. Before opening the bedroom door, he pulled his t-shirt over his head and unbuttoned his denims. Inside the bedroom, he undressed, tossing the clothes to a chair.
Dressed only in a pair of boxers, his muscular body and proudly worn sixpack faintly illuminated by the shimmering light that seeped in through the blinds, strong arms bent so that his hands rested on his hips, Tony stood by Michelle's side of the bed for a few moments, making sure she was asleep, before he cautiously climbed into the bed and turned his telltale breath away from her. He lay on his side and blankly stared at the seconds ticking away on the alarm clock on his nightstand, but not even half a minute later, Michelle turned and he felt her cuddle against him, her arm finding its way to his chest. Tony didn't move though he would have wanted to: her touch felt intruding rather than soothing, but he didn't want to risk waking her up.
He sighed to himself. When did things become this difficult? Earlier that night, she'd tried to question him about things he wasn't willing to disclose, but he was getting used to it by now. He just told her to get the hell off his back. And she did, surprisingly quickly. Thankfully, it seemed to become easier by the day to get Michelle to back off. And when she eventually did, he made sure to keep his distance. Just like he had done tonight.
Tony would never know how or when he'd given in to his own exhaustion, but at some point that night, he was sleeping.
--
As Tony's nightmares became more frequent, Michelle's sleep became lighter. And now, her husband was bathed in sweat again, shifting restlessly on the bed and mumbling to himself. The mattress vibrated from the movement of his arms and legs. The vibrations literally shook Michelle from her sleep. It took her a little while to realize she was awake, and then another moment to understand Tony was dreaming again. She couldn't help a little annoyance and discomfort surface for a second, but then pushed them aside. The twitching of Tony's body was intensifying and she resolved, I have to wake him up.
She sat up slightly in the bed and switched on the nightstand lamp.
"Tony." she called, but he didn't react. "Wake up, honey, it's over." she said soothingly, knowing it was the only way to calm his troubled mind. "Wake up."
Then she touched his left shoulder gently with her right hand. "It's ok, Tony, wake up."
Tony surely hadn't heard her, much less realized who was talking to him, because he, without hesitation, reflexively grabbed her wrist in a firm grip, causing her to gasp in surprise. She tried to free her arm but his grip on her remained firm, as if he was trying to fend off death itself.
"Get off of me, you bastard." he muttered.
Michelle's wrist pulsated hard under Tony's fingers, or maybe it was his pulse superimposing itself on her own. But her arm was beginning to hurt and he wouldn't let go. She pushed the momentary alarm to the back of her mind and calmly tried to pry open his fist with her left hand. But all it did was make him tighten his grip around her more. Eventually, she gave up trying, and again, urged him to wake up, this time in a slightly desperate voice. Then she glanced helplessly at the open window for a second, keeping quiet just that long.
And at that moment, Tony grabbed both her hands. "Back off!" he muttered and forcefully pushed them and Michelle away.
Michelle's back hit the head of the bed and her left arm the edge of the nightstand. Ouch. Ignoring the acute pain from the hit, she didn't cry out but just closed her eyes and then rubbed her now free but achy wrists for a moment. At least he'd let go of her. She looked at her arm; the red prints from Tony's fingers were disappearing but there would be a bruise on her arm. He didn't do it on purpose, she reminded herself. She was looking at Tony again; he was still dreaming.
Wake him up.
How?
His legs were twitching. Talk to him. Keep talking. And get out of the way.
She rolled off the bed, went to the door, found the light switch and turned the lights on. She called Tony's name again. He didn't react. She couldn't stand to watch him suffer like this, she would have shaken him awake but something was holding her back, by the door, away from the bed. With a resignating sigh, she reluctantly admitted to herself that she simply didn't dare move.
Great, so what am I going to do now?
Just wake him up.
Yeah. Easy. And avoid a blow in the process.
She closed her eyes for a second, as if plucking up courage, then opened them again. She took one long breath and two steps towards the bed. "Tony. Tony, sweetheart, it's over. It's over, wake up. It's just a dream, honey. None of it is real. It's okay."
Her voice was soothing and now she thought that Tony was responding to her voice because his movements seemed to become less violent.
Good. Come on.
"You're dreaming. Wake up." she cooed. "Wake up, honey."
The room was completely silent and quiet for a moment as Michelle waited for him to open his eyes. She then came another step closer to the bed. Come on.
Suddenly, Tony lashed out to his right, toward the sound her movement had caused, forcefully hitting the nightstand and sending the digital alarm clock flying to the floor. Though Michelle reflexively jumped out of the way, the clock landed at her feet.
"Oh, son of a bitch." Tony swore, opening his eyes, blinking against the light. He sat up, cradling the obviously hurting hand on his chest, rubbing it and moving each finger.
At that, Michelle let out a long breath and brought a smile on her weary face. A minute later, still somewhat squinting against the light, Tony raised his head towards her, a questioning look on his face.
"'Chelle, what are you do-" he started but cut himself short. Hanging his head, he let out a sigh and his shoulders sagged.
Then Michelle took those final steps to the bed, sat on it and gently led a hand up Tony's side. He winced at her touch but she slid her arm around him anyway; it traveled up his back and came to rest on his shoulder blade. Then Tony closed his eyes. Michelle managed to smile with relief and whispered, kissing his shoulder. "Welcome back."
Under her hand, where it was touching Tony's back, Michelle felt goose bumps form on Tony's skin. Soon, he recoiled away and stared at the floor. She watched him grow distant and knew he was going back inside his head, to whatever he still remembered of his dream. Subconsciously, she rubbed her wrist. Would he realize he'd grabbed her? As if he'd read her thoughts, Tony turned his head to face her and found her eyes with a dread-filled look. He didn't touch her, but he swallowed hard, glanced away, and then his eyes fixed on hers and stayed there.
"Sweetheart," he almost choked at the word and had to swallow hard. "Did I…." .He paused again. "Did I hurt you?"
Michelle glanced down to her left, avoiding Tony's stare. Was it okay to lie under the circumstances? She hated lying to him but made a quick decision. She sighed, then looked at his face again. Actually, her eyes stopped rising when they reached his mouth; staring at his lips, she replied quietly, "No."
Tony seemed to hold his breath. He didn't move a muscle or stop looking at her. That's when she knew he hadn't bought it. He knew she'd lied. But she'd only done it to take a bit of his guilt away; she hoped he realized that, too.
He never commented, though; he just gave a slight nod and a quiet, "All right."
Then he turned to sit on the edge of the bed, lowered his bare feet onto the thick carpet, rested his hands against the edge of the mattress and stared at his knees.
Michelle sighed and put a hand on his shoulder again. I'm sorry, honey.
Tony didn't cringe at her touch this time, but turned his head only enough to look at her from the mere corner of his eye. And in that moment, she saw he'd made a decision. And just a second later, he, quite abruptly, stood up. Rubbing his face with his right palm and then placing both his hands on his hips, he uttered,
"Look, uhm.." Now he was staring at the floor, "I think it's better for both of us if I sleep downstairs from now on."
At first, Michelle didn't reply. She couldn't even formulate a response in her mind. Tony gazed at her with determination written all over his face. There was no anger in his eyes, but resolve and sadness were evident. He stood there as if waiting for her to react, and it took her close to thirty seconds to protest.
"What? No." she uttered, standing up from the bed and stepping up to Tony. Sliding her hands up his flanks and to his shoulders, she added, "Stay here. You don't have to do this."
Damn it, Tony, we're married. Let me help you.
Tony pressed his lips together, the little flesh there was on his chin grew round and Michelle understood. It was his alternative to crying. The only time he did this was when he was hurting but wasn't willing to admit it. It looked like he took a couple of seconds to process her desperate plea, though she couldn't be sure, but then his brow furrowed and his right thumb gently caressed her left cheek before he simply nodded,
"Yes, I do. It's better for both of us."
He took Michelle's hands into his own and moved them off his shoulders, squeezing them ever so slightly. Letting go of them, he gave Michelle one last long look. Finally, with a sigh, he snatched his clothes from the chair he'd thrown them onto, opened the bedroom door and went downstairs. He paused by the door of the guest room, but then as if repulsed by it, got dressed and headed out into the hallway. He slipped his feet into a pair of sneakers, grabbed his house keys and left the house, letting the front door fall shut behind him.
--
Michelle watched Tony's figure disappear behind the bedroom door, feeling helpless and resigned. She wanted to call him back, but refrained. Why is he doing this? the thought rang out in her mind. But he was already gone before she could ask.
The sound of footsteps on the wooden stairs slowly faded away. Arguing would have been useless. Once his mind was made up, some higher power alone could make him turn back, and Michelle learned long ago she didn't have any godlike powers, not over Tony. So, she dropped back onto the bed and sighed, burying her head in her hands.
Is it because I lied?
Don't be such a child, Michelle. He knows you lied to protect him.
Lying to someone else, fine. But it doesn't justify blatantly lying to his face, does it.
Oh but you've done it before.
Only at work. And only if I had to.
She moved over to Tony's side of the king-sized bed, set his pillow against the bed's wooden head and leaned on it, then pulled her knees up to bury them under the cover a moment later. The sheets felt odd. Without consciously realizing it, she shifted so that her feet found the last oasis of warmth that Tony's body had left underneath the cover, just as she heard Tony slam the front door shut.
He's running away again.
Can you blame him?
Am I driving him away?
She clutched the cover with both hands and pulled it closer. It was as if the slightly rough tip of his thumb was still on her smooth cheek, as if his eyes were still projecting guilt and pain onto her face, as if his warm breath was still tickling her nose. But he wasn't there.
He saw he'd scared me. He thinks he's a danger. He's moving downstairs to protect me.
Or the nightmare could have been just the right excuse at the right time.
At first, she was about to quickly ban that last thought. It was hard to imagine he would consciously look for reasons to stay away from her. Yet it was indeed not the most far-fetched explanation. He had been shutting her out for weeks, refusing to talk. Sleeping in separate beds would make it easier for him to detach himself from her.
Remembering numerous other times when Tony had fled the scene after an unwelcome discussion, Michelle couldn't help but wonder,
Where is he going now?
Directly after prison, the answer would have been wherever he could find any booze at a given time. Between Tony's latest stay in a hospital and now, Michelle didn't know.
Is he drinking again? He promised me he wouldn't... But it's possible... He's hidden things from me before.
Michelle took a deep breath and turned to lie on her back, her body stretching from one side of the bed to the other. She silently stared at the ceiling above her; stripes of light coming through the blinds danced on the almost black background of the painted concrete.
Does he even still love me? How much does he care?...
If she hadn't been feeling so helpless, she might not have continued thinking about this. But Tony's behavior wasn't exactly proving her wrong and she couldn't be blind to that fact.
It was difficult to believe that the Tony that had stormed out of the house now was the same man who'd filled her apartment with flowers when he proposed to her, who'd insisted on driving to her place at 3 a.m. on a Sunday night just because she'd forgotten to bring her favorite lipstick with her to his apartment and he didn't want her to resort to a different one for the day, that he was the man who'd always defended her, from the day they first met. The day Tony drugged Chappelle and Michelle was outside CTU, helping Jack retrieve crucial evidence, Tony spoke about taking all the blame and consequences of what they did as if it were the most natural thing to do. He would face treason if necessary but keep her out of it. Clearly, he'd been thinking about it and had made up his mind but she told him, "I won't let you lie for me." making it clear that whatever happened, they were in it together.
Still, protecting her was Tony's primal instinct, the instinct that eventually got him sent to prison and opened the gate to the downhill road on which they seemed to be traveling right now. The past was in the past; the present was hazy. Though she wanted to believe that Tony's love for her couldn't have died, that he still had love for her in his heart, Michelle couldn't ignore how much has changed, how much Tony had changed. Despite her own undying love for him, she eventually admitted to herself that the Tony that had chosen to move downstairs was not the Tony she'd married: he was a different man now. A man whose world was shrinking too much and too fast to allow another person in.
--
An hour later, the front door opened and closed again and Michelle, who had somehow drifted into a light doze, woke up at the sound.
He's back.
She slowly got up from the bed. Outside the bedroom, she stood at the top of the staircase and watched Tony throw the sneakers off his feet. He glanced at her but almost instantly looked away guiltily. While he was fumbling with his keys and threw them on the sideboard, Michelle walked down the stairs and joined him there.
Somewhat cautiously, she put a hand on Tony's back, whispering, "How are you doing?"
"I'm fine." Tony replied, taking two steps into the living room.
Yeah, right, Michelle thought, but knew she would get no other answer out of him. She followed him and Tony stopped, turning to her with a theatrically loud sigh and a frustrated look on his face.
"I was starting to get worried..." she tried, her voice calm. "Where have you been?"
"Out."
Michelle approached him at an arm's length and gently squeezed his shoulders, as if about to massage them to help him relax. "Out, where?" she asked softly, despite knowing he wouldn't tell her, but as she stood there with him, closer than he'd allowed her to be lately, she sharpened her sense of smell.
Tony stepped away. "Just out, all right? Please, just leave it be."
His breath was clean. At least he wasn't drinking. "All right." she agreed.
He nodded briefly and then headed towards the guest bedroom to his right. "Thank you." he mumbled on the way.
"Tony."
At the door, he turned around.
"I know you won't talk to me about what's eating you up. But maybe you should talk to someone."
Tony scoffed. "What, you're gonna send me to the shrink now? Is that what you want?" His tone was somewhat defensive but the sharpness and energy he usually added to it were missing. He almost sounded resigned.
Michelle folded her arms at her chest. "I didn't say that. Just find someone to talk to. Why are you so afraid to get help?"
Tony didn't reply. Instead, he glared at her for a few more seconds, then sighed, stepped into his bedroom and closed the door behind him
Day 53Across the border they turn water into wine
Some say it's the devil's blood they're squeezing from the vine
Some say it's a savior in these desperate times
For me it helps me to forget that we're just born to die.
Michael Cook, the owner and CEO of Cook IT Solutions, was sitting in his glass-enclosed office above the main floor of his company. His clean-shaven brown face contrasted against the pale yellow shirt and purple tie he wore, and he was looking at Tony, who was sitting opposite Michael, clad in a black shirt and jeans. The expression on Michael's face was serious, though not angry, but his voice was demanding answers.
"Tony, we almost lost a year's worth of data. How could this happen?"
Tony's hands rested calmly in his lap, though he would have liked to grab the stapler or the hole puncher from Michael's desk and throw it down onto the main floor, straight through the glass, preferably aiming it at Robin's head. Still, looking Michael in the eye, he lied, "I don't know, Mr. Cook. Most likely a glitch in the software."
His boss leaned forward in the chair. "The software that you tested last week, right?"
"Yes, sir." Except it wasn't there when I was testing it.
Michael Cook took a pencil in his right hand and tapped its end on the index finger of his left hand. "So, what happened between then and now?"
Tony shrugged. "I honestly don't know, Mr. Cook. Maybe the code got altered somehow during implementation. I'll look into it."
"Do that." Michael nodded. "But you do realize that if Nathan Connor hadn't made redundant backups on the external server, this would have been disastrous, right?"
Tony didn't reply but pressed his toes firmly against the soles of his shoes and thus against the floor until they almost hurt. The neutral expression on his face, however, remained unchanged. Nathan, that bastard. They intentionally screwed up the code to set me up and make me take the fall.
Michael Cook set the pencil aside and took a long breath, leaning forward in the chair and towards Tony. "Tony, can I speak frankly to you?"
"Please do, Sir."
"Tony... I am not a bastard. I don't fire people for making one mistake. And I believe in second chances." He paused. "I gave you this job because I believed that you would be an asset to us. I still believe that. Now, we didn't lose any data and I know you will find the glitch, whatever it is, and fix it. So I'm willing to overlook this. But do try to avoid running incomplete tests in the future."
It wasn't incomplete. They're setting me up. Tony thought again.
"All right?"
"Yes, sir. Thank you."
This had happened mere six hours ago, right before Tony was about to head home from work. Now, around midnight, alone in the bed downstairs, the anger and thirst for retaliation came back to him. Michelle was already in bed, and hopefully sleeping. Or not. In any case, he hadn't heard from her in half an hour. The window to the street was open, someone's trash was stinking up the fresh air and a cat was meowing close by. Tony ignored it. He had more important problems to deal with.
First those moronic assignments, then that little punk tries to have a piece of me and now they're planting mistakes to show how incompetent I am. Assholes. he thought, staring at the ceiling.
What do they know about me? Essentially nothing, how could they? They know what was in the press or online, that's it. High profile case. Lots of coverage. Not like you get treason in the paper every day. he mused, bitter. Robin. That asshole. What the hell do they know? They've never been in that situation where they would have to make the choice. Except maybe, maybe Robin. Though I doubt it. Injury, my ass. If he were a decent NCO, he'd know that there's more to people than meets the eye. He's an idiot, that's all he is. He must have been dishonorably discharged.
Yeah but he's got them all working for him. And against you. his private devil intruded.
It just goes to show how easy it is to manipulate people if you find the right words to say.
"Son of a bitch!" Tony quietly muttered and, suddenly becoming aware of his parched throat, got out of bed to get himself a glass of water. His thoughts kept revolving around the same thing. I've taken their scorn long enough. If they use my past against me, there has to be some dirt on them too. He scratched his forehead in frustration and strode to the kitchen. Yeah, but how to get to it? It's not like I have clearance and access to government files anymore.
On his way to the kitchen, his gaze fell on Michelle's laptop case on the floor by the front door and his mind instantly reminded him, You don't… but Michelle does.
Tony didn't stop by the computer but switched on the light in the kitchen and filled a glass with water. No, I can't do that. If they catch me…
No one will know, it's Michelle's laptop, isn't it? the devil on his shoulder assured him. You need ammo against these bastards. Get back at them. You have the means right there.
Tony took a swig from the glass. I don't know her password.
Oh, come on. You've done it with Ragen's computer. You have a Master's in computer science and you know CTU's systems. And she's your wife, you'll figure it out, can't be that hard.
He set the empty glass down next to the sink and started to walk back to his bedroom, but stopped by the laptop case, staring at it.
Go on, no one will know…
After a moment's hesitation, he opened the case, grabbed the laptop and sat on the couch, switching the computer on. The temptation was simply too hard to resist. He was able to pass Michelle's computer password somewhat easily, then opened a wireless network connection to Division's server and set about figuring out that password. It was not going to be easy. But then he remembered a piece of software he'd programmed a long time ago, during his first months at CTU. He had wanted to test just how easy it would be to hack into the network, crack the passwords. It had taken time, but he'd done it. Over the years, it had become somewhat of an ongoing side project to him, an exercise in programming, just so it wouldn't begin to rust. No-one knew about this project of his, and he never ran it but every time CTU put new security measures in place, Tony played around with his program until he'd cracked them. Then he waited for the next security upgrade. He'd always run the program and simulations on an isolated machine, disconnected from the network, so that his game wouldn't open vulnerabilities to the outside world, and also so that he could stay under the radar. He would of course be able to explain away what he was doing, but avoiding detection was preferable. Though he'd used it to test CTU's security, he knew that with a couple modifications, he'd get into Division's systems, too. The underlying protocols were the same.
Setting the laptop on the glass table in front of him for a minute, he rushed to the study and fetched the disc, then inserted it into the drive and started the program, which greeted him and informed him it had built a secure environment and was now ready for a task. "Crack it." Tony told it and gave it a command. The program responded and Tony interacted with it again. Another success. He continued.
He was tapping away on the keyboard, and finally the program began to work on the combinatorial part of the task. "Come on, let me in." he said to the software. A short time later, four of eight digits were already cracked and he was so focused on the random combinations the downloaded program was running that he didn't hear the door to the master bedroom open or soft footsteps in the hallway. Nor did he notice Michelle come down the stairs and stop three feet behind him, looking over his shoulder. It was her voice that yanked him out of his thoughts.
"Tony?"
He froze and cursed inwardly, Oh, son of a bitch, shutting his eyes tightly for a moment.
"What are you doing?"
"Nothing." he answered gruffly, not daring to turn towards her but slowly motioning to close the laptop.
"That's the server to Division you're trying to access." she stated, moving to his side so she could look at him. Her tone was composed and firm, but Tony knew her better than that. She was alarmed. Clearly. Nevertheless, she kept her words clear and her voice steady as she dryly remarked, "You're after classified intel."
Great. You let her catch you red-handed. Tony kicked himself for not being more careful. Rule number one: never sit with your back to the door. Damn. Just then, the computer produced a beep, happily announcing the password had been cracked.
Michelle paused for a moment, then added, "Tony, you don't just hack into my computer and tell me it's nothing."
Slowly, he closed the laptop, set it on the glass table in front of him and stood, scratching his face. Yeah I know I hacked into your computer. I had no choice. But the dumbest thing was to let you catch me. he thought to himself and took a couple of steps away from Michelle.
Michelle now circled fully around the couch, stepped up to Tony and held him by the elbow. "Tony, stop. Sit down."
She'll follow you around anyway until she's had her say. Pulling his arm from her grip he glared at her but eventually sat down. "What?"
With a sigh, Michelle sat down in the chair next to the couch. She glanced at the laptop, then again at Tony. "What were you doing there? Tell me what you were looking for."
Better just keep quiet and let her say what she says. You royally screwed up this time. Again. Tony just looked away from her, unable to meet her eye. What am I supposed to say? There's nothing I can say. What's done is done.
"Have you done this before?" she pressed on. "Or is tonight the first time?"
He sighed and again scratched his cheek, then quietly admitted, "It's the first time." You probably wouldn't have caught me if it wasn't.
Relief washed over her face, betraying her emotions for just a second, but then she sat up straight in the chair again. "What were you trying to find?"
Nothing that I could tell you about. He didn't reply.
She tried one more time. "Is something happening at work? Does that have anything to do with this?"
Still nothing.
"Are you in some kind of trouble?"
Probably more than you could possibly understand. But it's none of your business.
"I don't believe this." she uttered and gave him a frustrated look. "Tony, do you have any idea what consequences this could have?" Tony frowned and rolled his eyes at her words but she continued, "If Division finds out, they will take this to District. This isn't just going to go away. They will put you in jail and Jack won't be able to get you-"
"You think I don't know that?" he spat, interrupting her. "You think I don't know the consequences? Well, I do!" Better than you or Jack or anyone else.
Ten seconds of silence followed, in which Michelle breathed in deeply, then put a hand down on Tony's arm, looking into his eyes pleadingly. "There has to be a reason you're willing to risk prison again-"
Tony stood, glaring at her angrily. "The reason for this has nothing to do with you! Back off, Michelle!"
When he stood, Michelle followed suit. "I don't think that your trying to break into a secure server through my computer and my account, looking for information you have no clearance for has nothing to do with me. If nothing else, I'm the one who's going to have to cover for you if they find out! The least you could do is tell me what I'm covering. There has to be something. I don't think it's because you miss your old job and the access you used to have."
Michelle's last statement stabbed Tony more than he was willing to admit. He wanted to forget CTU the best he could since he knew he could never have it back. The last thing he craved for was power and she seemed to be implying exactly that. She understood nothing. But she acted as if she knew everything. His eyes narrowed and he stretched his body to use every inch of his height to underline his decisiveness and mask his hurt.
"Then turn me in." he snarled at her. "If you're so worried about covering your back. That way it's just me on the line and not you. Like the last time."
Suddenly, Michelle's palm smacked Tony's cheek but she seemed just as surprised by that slap as Tony. Her eyes widened for a second and then she stepped back, pain and regret instantly visible in her expression.
At first, Tony glared at her until the shock in his eyes was replaced by contempt. It took only a second or two. He couldn't prevent his cheek from stinging and turning hot but damned if he'd touch it.
She swallowed hard. "Tony..." she whispered apologetically and reached out to him again, tentatively touching his shoulder with her other hand, the one hand that hadn't slapped him.
Oh, so now you're sorry. Tony scoffed, and now that he'd recovered from the surprise, he just turned away from her, shaking off her hand from his shoulder. Trying to take back the damage, are you. You can't.
He heard her sigh heavily and ten seconds later she must have turned away. He heard her pick up the laptop from the glass table. Yeah, don't trust me with it. I could try again.
Slowly, she walked up the stairs to the bedroom and left him alone. It was then he finally dared breathe. He scratched his burning cheek, ran both his hands through his hair, interlocked his fingers on his neck, and rested his head on his hands for a few moments. She slapped me. He grinned bitterly. Well, I deserved it.
Damn it, Almeida. Not only didn't you find out anything, but you let her catch you.
He scratched his forehead in frustration. Everything I touch goes bad.
Hesitantly, he glanced upstairs at the closed door to the master bedroom, then towards the cedar wood cabinet that hid the cure; even if only temporary, it would still be a relief. He strode to the cabinet and took the Vat69 out. He walked the full bottle back to the couch, opened it along the way, sat down and began to drink from it. Michelle's face stared at him from the photos on the walls everywhere around the room but he ignored it. He drank. One gulp, two, three, four, he didn't care how much. Tonight, he needed it and he wasn't going to stop.
He was still drinking when Michelle showed up in the hallway. She headed towards the staircase, but stopped at the first step and looked down at him. Disappointment and guilt written all over her face, she watched him gulp down the whiskey for a few seconds, then turned back and returned to the bedroom, shutting the door behind her quietly. Ten minutes and more than half a bottle later, Tony's body, no longer used to the alcohol, had enough and he passed out. At the same time, Michelle, alone in the bedroom, began to cry.
p.s. The lyrics are from "Hearts Breaking Even" & "Dry County", both songs by Bon Jovi. I just had to include them since they're so fitting.