Just as I had suspected and feared, I got no sleep at all. Every time I checked the clock, it seemed that only minutes or an hour at the very most had passed. At one point I heard Michael head to the bathroom and was it me, or was he trying to be quiet? Don't waste your time, I wanted to say to him. I'm already awake and won't be sleeping either! A short while later, Michael came out and returned to his bed. Then there was silence once more. Or perhaps not entirely silent. Because that was when I heard it. DRIP! DRIP!

The panic threatened to overtake me, and I was off my airbed so fast, I wasn't even aware I'd moved. I realised I was almost running to the bathroom screen. I don't know whether Michael thought I was sick or something, but he didn't follow me at first. I scrambled through, almost hitting my head on the screen, and felt desperately for the sink. I had to stop that tap, I had to!

At the sound of the rhythmic dripping, the memories came crashing and flooding back. Clive, his gun, that freezing bathroom… now I really did think I was going to throw up. I tried to grab the tap's handle, but my hands were shaking too badly. It was only then I realised there were tears sliding down my face. Then a guard spoke in my ear, without a doorbell sound. "Zoe, are you ok?"

How the fuck was I supposed to answer that? No, I've got PTSD and when I hear a dripping tap, I remember an office massacre I survived? My brother came in with a gun and killed all but 4 of us? Of course, I couldn't tell them that! No one knew that! My therapist knew I'd survived a shooting, but even she doesn't know it was my brother, or about my childhood.

Then was when I was yanked out of my terrible memories, at the feel of a hand on my shoulder. It was only when I did, I realised how badly I was shaking. Was it one of the guards? I was holding on to the sink as tightly as I could to avoid falling to the floor. My knees were so week I didn't think they'd support me. It took me a few seconds, then I understood. It was Michael's hand on my shoulder.

Was that why the guard hadn't spoken again? They were watching the cameras to see what happened? Surprisingly gently, Michael tried to pull me back from the sink, but I couldn't let go of it.

"I… I can't," I said, my voice coming out as a squeak. "T… the tap…"

Michael continued to try and pull me back and I knew he'd be too strong for me to resist, so I eventually stopped trying and let go of the sink. Michael stepped in front of me and twisted the tap again. Thank fuck, the dripping stopped. But I still couldn't stop shaking. Still with his hand on my shoulder, Michael guided me from the bathroom. That was when I got my second shock. Because Michael led me forward, before he lifted me up and I braced myself to be thrown again, but I was slowly laid on his own bed. God it was comfortable. Far more so than the air one. Michael then lay down beside me. There was plenty of room for both of us. My heart was still thumping madly, and I was fighting off a panic attack. I groped for my bag and took out my tablets, swallowing one as quickly as I could, but spilling water all over me in my haste. That was the moment Michael took my free hand and held it, and I found myself squeezing it as hard as I could. Right then, the hand of a cold blooded silent masked killer was my anchor. The thing which would stop me succumbing to the panic completely. Still holding my hand, Michael eased me back against the pillows. God that'd been terrifying. I also knew there was no way I could come off the tablets. Not yet. Not after a dripping tap had almost driven me over the edge. Would have if not for Michael Myers. The irony did not escape me of this. Neither did I expect what happened, or how grateful I would be, when Michael held my hand for the rest of the night.


Just as Sartain had promised, when the guards appeared to escort us to breakfast, none of them said anything about what they'd seen on the cameras the night before. That said they could be different guards on duty now who wouldn't have seen it, but I was glad for this either way. I felt exhausted. I was right and only got minimal sleep. Michael holding my hand finally calmed me enough to close my eyes, but it was only for 2 hours at most.

When we were led out of the cell, Michael once again chained, I felt him take my hand yet again, the other side of the guard who was guiding me. Once again, the guards said nothing. They were true professionals I realised with a rush of gratitude. I knew I'd be able to talk to them if I wanted to, but right then I was still trying to get a grip of my own thought process and emotions.

It's a handhold! I shouted at myself. Not a marriage proposal! Don't overreact, it probably means nothing. But you probably must tell him now Z, you owe him that after last night.

After breakfast, we once again went out into the exercise yard. Michael continued to hold my hand as we stepped over his warning line. My guard remained with me, but Michael didn't release my hand then either. But I couldn't talk to him, not out here, not in front of patients and guards. But later? Could I, do it? Would I be brave enough?

I found myself thinking of the very reason I'd come here in the first place. A chance for revenge, to ask Michael Myers for his help. But I'd never dreamed this would happen, that a serial killer would hold my hand. Let me sleep beside him last night instead of my airbed. When Dr Sartain approached and touched my arm, I was terrified for a second, he was going to mention what'd happened last night. But true to his word, he didn't. Or at least, not right then he didn't. Maybe in private later he might.

"Are you ok Zoe?" He asked simply.

I gave him a shaky smile but nodded. I was beyond doubt that he knew, of course he would. Something as big as that from Myers would not escape his notice. He'd either seen it himself, or one of his guards had told him. Either way, he knew.


A little later, we went back in to the cell. I took a short break, reading a book to try and calm myself down. But as I did so, I made up my mind. I knew I'd have to tell Michael at least some of the truth. I was so pathetically grateful to him for his simple yet huge actions (to me at least) the night before. So I eventually put my iPod down and considered my words. How on earth would I phrase this?

Finally as night drew in, Michael walked slowly towards me. I managed a small smile at him. God I was tired, yet sleep felt about as far away as Mars right now. I was afraid this would be yet another sleepless night. Michael took my hand, pulled me to my feet and once again to his bed. This time, I took my clothes off. It was hot. Michael lay down beside me, having removed his shirt. I took a deep breath, and started to speak as he pulled the covers over us.

"Michael, I'm really sorry about last night. A dripping tap is…" I hesitated again. Fuck this was going to be so hard. Michael Myers may be just about to know more than my therapist ever would. "I have severe PTSD and a dripping tap is one of the sounds that triggers it. 2 months ago, I… I survived an office massacre. Someone entered the office I work in with a gun and killed 6 of my colleagues. I and 3 others survived. I hid in the bathroom just before they started shooting and one of the taps was dripping. So ever since…" I trailed off.

I could hardly believe what happened then. Michael's strong arm came around me and I was pulled to his side. My mouth opened in shock and surprise. My heart was hammering and I knew Michael would feel it. Sure enough, his hand rested against my back and started rhythmically stroking it. Slowly but surely, my heartbeat slowed down.

"Thanks," I said quietly, my voice shaking a little. "Sorry. It's just… I thought you deserved to know the truth after I went nuts on you after hearing a dripping tap!" Was it my imagination, or had Michael's arm just tightened around me?

"I heard him walking around outside," I continued. "The shooter. He was looking for victims. I don't know if he knew I was in the bathroom though, but he didn't enter if he did. The problem was," the words came out before I could even consider stopping them. "He is my brother."

There was silence. I could hardly believe I'd just told someone the truth. I had been speaking very low, I didn't want the guards to hear a word of this. I couldn't believe how much weight seemed to have come off my shoulders, had just been lifted from me. Was that all I'd had to do? Tell someone? I had no idea it'd be the man I just have told! I took a breath and thought it'd be a struggle to keep talking, but the words came tumbling out suddenly. As if someone had just pulled a plug out of me.

"I didn't have the best childhood. My older brother Clive got in to crime. Drugs, burglary. Our parents died when we were both young, I was 6, him 10. Dad's sister came to look after us, and her boyfriend Roy was an absolute bastard. He got Clive in to crime and made him who he is now. Clive hates me, one reason being because I'm blind I think. Although on the day before he murdered 6 people, he told me the floor was being relayed in my office so not to go in. He'd also phoned my colleagues and told them I was unwell so wouldn't be in. To this day I don't know why. Was he trying to save me? Did he know what he was about to do? I've asked myself so many questions, why he targeted my office for one. The police think it was because it was the closest place with lots of people in. It was very close to where I was living now. I hadn't seen him for years before the shooting. He must've tracked me down. The call the day before was out of the blue, like totally. I didn't believe him of course, so I went in. My colleagues all kept asking me if I felt better and I didn't understand why. They told me someone had called the office that morning saying I was unwell and wouldn't be there. I also wondered if it was because he didn't want me to turn him in.

But then I didn't even know he had a gun. Of course I didn't. How would I? I hadn't seen him for years as I just said. Clive managed to run before the police caught him, escaping through a side entrance. The police are keeping me up to date, they're conducting a country-wide man hunt. Might even go worldwide depending on where the hell he is! I only know it was him because why else would he have called me about the office floor the day before the shooting? The police agree. Apparently they've also arrested Roy in case he's connected to it, but…" I trailed off. This was such a fucked up mess.

Clive never offered me affection," I thought and only realised when Michael's other arm came around me that I'd said it aloud. But I didn't care, I couldn't. It was too late. He knew most of it now.

"Nothing sexual ever happened," I said. "Neither Roy or Clive did anything like that. But they'd neglect me, hide things so I couldn't find them, minimal food and drink. They'd go out and lock me in the house and I'm certain Clive hid my key as I never found it. Either that or Anne stole it. I guess I'll never know. Now, I knew this was it. Did I tell him why I was here? What I was hoping for? Michael hadn't released me and I only then became aware my head was resting against his chest. I immediately made to move it and apologise, but Michael's hand rested on the back of my head as I did so, pushing it back in to its previous position. Slowly, I moved my mouth up so it was against his left ear.

"That's the other reason why I'm here," I whispered. "I've always wanted to meet you, that's the first and I'm suffering from dreadful anger against Clive. I… I want revenge. I want him killed. So I had a stupid idea… but I knew it would never happen. Then suddenly, this incredible opportunity comes up. I understand what Dr Sartain is trying to do, but I can't lie, I was also desperate to use it for… well my own reasons. But I never thought I'd be able to tell you all this. I mean, what? I'd just say Mr. Myers, please can you kill my big brother who's a murderer and responsible for an office massacre? Even to my own ears I knew how that would sound. Am I hoping for you to get out so you can enact revenge for me because I can't? Find Clive and kill him before the police find him? Fuck! Even if he's given the death penalty he'll be on death-row for fucking years before he faces the needle! So fucking unfair! What about the survivors? Families of the dead?"

Again, I stopped myself. You're only talking to another killer, I thought. But that still didn't stop me from continuing. I'd started now, I had to get this out. "He'll get the right to appeal, even if he's found guilty! He fucking shot 6 innocent people for fuck's sake! Shit! I…"

Now, Michael pushed my head to his shoulder. I felt my face touch his neck and made to move it, but again he didn't allow me to. Tomorrow would be day 4 of my initial week; would I stay longer? I couldn't lie, a huge part of me sincerely wanted to. There was more I was desperate to say, if I could find the courage that was. That might take days on its own! As I finally closed my eyes still in Michael's embrace, I decided I'd ask Dr Sartain if I could. I'd tell him we were making good progress. Although he'd see that from the cameras. But that was the point. He'd see it. He wouldn't have heard a word I'd said. I knew there were microphones around, so I'd whispered the whole thing in to Michael's ear. It was such a relief someone else knew my whole secret, knew the whole thing. Just as he'd held my hand the night before, this time he didn't let go of me for the rest of the night.

I had no idea what would happen now, how the rest of the "experiment" would go or if Myers would even get out of Smith's Grove, but I had made more progress myself in the last 3 days than Sartain could ever have imagined. I had to stop myself analysing how I felt about where I was. Scared, uncertain sure. But also… What? Happy? I put on my iPod and lay still. Myers didn't remove his arm from me for the rest of that night, except when one or the other of us needed to move behind the screen. I didn't put up a fight of course. I could tell myself this was because I didn't want to die, but that wasn't it? of course it wasn't. I'd just told Michael Myers the whole truth. At the very least, he was now the one person who knew absolutely everything. Eventually, Michael pulled me up, so my head was back on his shoulder. My mouth fell open in surprise, and I couldn't stop the soft gasp when the killer held my head in place with a gentle hand. I didn't expect to fall asleep this way, or for my head to still be on his shoulder the next morning.


It was now day 4, and I found myself not even wanting to consider day 7. I realised I didn't want this to end. Not anymore, but it had nothing to do with the money. Money be damned, actually. It was to do with my heart. Ok so I'd achieved what I'd wanted to by telling Myers about Clive and that terrible day, but did I really intend to tell him this next part? That I think I love him? In truth, I hadn't even thought about it, not before now. It'd always seemed like an impossibility, considering the fact I hadn't even been expecting to be able to tell him about that day before dying. The fact I'd survived alone was one thing, the fact he now knew more than even my therapist did another, but this last part? I honestly didn't think I could say that.

Myers may have held me last night, but I obviously wasn't going to assume anything, not with this man. Sure I'd thought about it, but only at the very back of my mind. Clive and the shooting had been my first priority, if I'd survived. Those first 2 I'd succeeded in, but the third and final? Was this a possibly literally fatal mistake?


When the guard turned up to escort Michael out into the yard, I shook my head at him. I wanted time to think about my next move. Speak? Keep quiet? The killer didn't try to make me come with him, just allowed the guard to shackle him and left. I was grateful he was allowing me the privacy it was clear I needed. A few minutes later, there was the soft ding in my earpiece.

"Zoe, its Dr Sartain. How are you?"

I was surprised the doctor himself was speaking to me over my earpiece, but then I thought of everything that'd happened last night and realised why. Of course he'd speak to me. He'd seen Michael Myers holding my hand and then me close for God's sake!

"Yes thanks," I said, looking up towards where I was sure one of the cameras was and waved slightly.

"Hi, I saw that," Dr Sartain said and I could tell by his voice he was smiling. "I liked what I saw last night, I'm not going to discuss it unless you want to, suffice it to say that was big progress. We didn't turn up the audio of course, we wouldn't breach your privacy with whatever you were saying to Michael. We saw you whispering in his ear." Was it my imagination, or was the doctor's tone now a little playful and teasing? I felt my face burn red.

"Got me," I admitted. "I really don't want to talk about it if that's ok Dr Sartain? I… yes I had a reason for coming here, my own reasons, nothing to do with money. I wanted to talk to Mr. Myers about something."

"I figured as much," the doctor said softly. "I take it from what we saw last night you've managed to do so? Good for you, Zoe."

"Thanks," I said, my voice a little shaky once more. "To tell you the truth Dr Sartain, I'm not sure how I'm still alive to have done so."

The doctor actually chuckled quietly in my ear. "You've obviously got through to him in a way even you didn't anticipate, that is surely a good thing though. Yes?"

"Well yes," I admitted. "Although God knows how I did it! I'm not even sure what I did!"

"I guess only Michael himself knows that," Dr Sartain said. "But what matters is you did so."

"Is that why you gave me a week with the option of longer in case it was needed?" I asked.

"Indeed," the doctor agreed.

"It's looking like I might need longer isn't it? It's only day 4 now and…" I trailed off. Did I really want to tell the doctor this? I knew I couldn't tell him about Clive, but how I felt for Michael? Could I tell him this?" But I didn't need to. From Dr Sartain's next words, I was certain he knew, or had at least guessed the truth.

"Indeed it is. I don't think you're done talking to Michael as yet, I say give it a try, just remember everything I told you. You'll be perfectly safe. Good luck, Zoe."

Oh he knew alright. I felt myself blushing and couldn't stop it this time.

"Thanks," I muttered, and from Dr Sartain's second chuckle, I knew he knew. There would be no point in denying it, even if I wanted to, which I didn't, couldn't.

"Do you need anything?" Dr Sartain asked.

"Can I have some tea please? Milk 2 sugars?"

"Of course you can, coming right up." There was a quiet click and the line went dead.


Once Dr Sartain hung up, I lay back on my airbed and put on my iPod. I wasn't going to lie on Michael's bed when he wasn't here, that didn't feel right to me. My head felt like a roundabout, spinning on an endless loop. Ok so I'd made huge progress the night before in telling Michael about Clive, but this? This was a whole new ball game and a totally different conversation. Michael, I think I'm in love with you? Yeah, that would be easy! What if it angered Michael and I did end up in danger after all, guards or no guards? Was it really worth the risk? Then there was the question of why. What exactly was it about Michael Myers which made me feel this way about him? He was a silent, masked killer for goodness sake. It wasn't like he's your average Mr. nice guy who you'd meet on the street and ask for a coffee. He never spoke, had no emotion, and…

That made my thoughts stop dead. No emotion? Hmm. was that still the case? After last night, the way he'd held me close, not to mention holding my hand the night before and pulling me back from the sink when the dripping tap set my PTSD off? That didn't look like a lack of emotion to me. Maybe Dr Sartain was right? Had I got through to Michael in a way even he didn't fully understand yet? Why else would the killer have done what he had? I sighed. What if he was just luring me into a false sense of security before… but no? That didn't make sense either. I knew all too well that wasn't Michael's M.O. If he saw a victim, he killed them after hunting and stalking them. He didn't take time over it, make them think he was a nice guy, no. He just struck straight off the bat. So luring me into a false sense of security made no sense at all. Surely if he was going to kill me, I'd be dead by now, right? Unless he was just using me as an escape out of Smith's Grove? Would he maybe track then kill me after his release? Was I just making myself look even more vulnerable and letting him play me for a fool? Was telling him the other reason really the best idea?

I took a sip of the scolding tea the guard had just brought me, stood up and sat down at the bolted down desk with it. "Fuck," I breathed, exhaling slowly. What the hell was I supposed to do? "Fuck."

I knew it was too late to take back what I'd already told Michael, but would telling him the rest make it worse? Mind you, if I was already on his killing radar, I couldn't make it any worse could I? I'd be dead anyway whatever I said. Should I just leave it unsaid? But there was part of me which couldn't do that. I'd got this far hadn't I? Why not finish it off? I could feel the start of a he ache building behind my eyes and pulled out some painkillers. I knew I had to stop thinking, if only for a while. I rubbed a shaking hand across my face and rested my elbows on the desk and head on my arms. One thing was for sure though. I couldn't do anything until Michael got back. At least that gave me some time.

I was grateful to the guards for not speaking in my earpiece, asking me if I was ok, leaving me to my private thoughts. I needed it. I knew I could call them if I wanted to talk, Rachael had said as much, but this wasn't something I felt happy or comfortable talking about. If I was going to talk to anyone it would be Michael and Michael only, at least for now. If he did get out of Smith's Grove and decided to come after and kill me, whether I told him this or not wouldn't make any difference. At last I stood up again and headed back to my airbed and to my surprise, drifted off to sleep.


I woke with a start when the door slammed shut behind Michael upon his return. For a second I was confused, not even sure where I was. I'd been thinking so much, I'd fallen asleep and still felt mentally exhausted. It was then I heard Michael's calm, steady breathing at my side. I only realised he'd reached down to me when I felt his warm hand on my shoulder. I gave him a faint smile.

"Hi Mr. Myers," I said, holding back a yawn. "Sorry, I'm just seriously tired. Mentally more than anything else. I also took my strong painkillers for a headache and they must've knocked me out."

Michael tightened his grip and helped me to my feet, guiding me over to his own bed.

"I'm ok," I said quickly. "You don't have to…" Michael stopped me by squeezing my shoulder, before lifting me back onto his bed. I couldn't deny it felt amazingly comfortable. Michael then handed me my water bottle. This time I smiled at him. "Thanks," I said. He then lay down at my side once more and took my hand again. I felt my heartrate pick up. Should I? Could I? Maybe I should wait until later? But that was just procrastinating and I knew it. This was as good a time as any.

"Mr. Myers," I began. "Can…" I was stopped as the killer squeezed my hand. I raised a mental eyebrow. "What?" I asked quietly. He squeezed it again.

"Are…" I hesitated. "Are you asking me not to call you Mr. Myers?" The killer squeezed my hand again. "Michael?" I said tremulously. The killer squeezed it again and this time stroked the back of my hand with his thumb. That told me I was right. "Thank you, Michael."

Again, I took a deep breath. Stop it Zoe! I shouted at myself. If you're going to do it, just do it! "Michael, what I told you last night… um, isn't everything. I also have something else I wanted to tell you. Do… do you mind? May I?"

I could hardly believe what happened then. Michael released my hand and both his arms came around me, pulling me back to his chest where I'd been last night, my head back on his shoulder. Would it still be there after he knew? I didn't want to think about that! Would I even be alive after he knew? No, I didn't want to think about that either!

"What I told you last night about Clive, it… it wasn't everything. I came here for more than one reason Michael." Michael squeezed me to him. "I wanted to meet you for another reason, but I… I don't know how to tell you this, or even if I should. I don't know how you'll react, or…" I took a breath. Careful Zoe, I said to myself. Be very careful. "Or even why I… I need to say this," I finished lamely. Why I feel this way about you was what I'd really wanted to say, but I wasn't ready for that, not yet.

"Michael, I've studied your case for the last 2 years even before what… what happened with Clive 2 months ago. I know as much about you as I could get hold of. Don't ask me why, but something about you has fascinated me. I really wanted to meet you simply for this reason. I'd have asked to do so even before Clive. There's… there's something about you I can't get enough of. Is it your silence? Lack of remorse? Danger? Shit Michael I don't know! But I… damn it! I'm obsessed with you, maybe even…"

WO! I mentally shouted at myself. STOP! But I knew I couldn't, it was too late for that now. I'd gone too far to stop or even go back. Turning back was not an option for me now.

"I think I'm in love with you," I said so quietly I hardly even heard it myself. Michael didn't move, but his arms tightened around me.

"I know it's not something you… you probably know a lot about, feelings, love, but Michael it's there, right in my heart for you, and I can't and don't want to do anything about it. This has nothing to do with Clive, on that you have to believe me. My feelings for you and… desire about Clive are 2 totally different things. On that, please trust me? Because it's true. Like I said, I wanted to meet you way before Clive… did what he did."

There was a brief second of silence, before Myers lowered his head and took my lips with his. It was a hard, commanding and not exactly tender kiss. But oh God it felt so good. I couldn't stop the slight moan which left my mouth. Myers placed one hand against my shoulder, effectively stopping me from moving as he kissed me more intensely. I don't think I could've moved even without this. My whole body had gone weak under the killer's kiss. Eventually he forced my mouth to open under his as our tongues began to fight for dominance. I knew who would win, of course I did and it wouldn't be me. I had never been kissed like this in my life. Finally Myers wrapped both arms around me once more and continued to kiss me. For the second night in a row, I fell asleep with my head on Michael Myers' shoulder.


I was sure the next morning would be awkward, but Sartain and the guards were as professional as he'd promised they would be. None of them even made a comment or mentioned what they'd seen between Myers and me last night. For that I was grateful. It would hurt to think about it too much. Sartain gently touched my shoulder and asked if I was ok, that was it.

"Are you wanting extra days?" He asked simply. All I could do was nod. "Yes," I said.