Danielle lay in her cell the next night, feeling utterly like shit. How could she face him now? After she'd told Michael how she felt, he'd held her close for the rest of the night. She'd loved it and desperately desired more, but her stupid fear was still getting in the way. She'd confided as much to both Joanne and Dr Stark in tears the next day, who'd both said the same thing. "You can't let Adam ruin your life; you have to live Danielle. You're still alive, so you have to try and live it. Of course, it'll take some time, but that's why you're here and we're here to help you."

She knew they were right but a small part of her still tried to fight it. She wanted to tell Michael everything about the dream she'd had about him, not just his killing Jefferson, the other part too. But she couldn't. For the second time when out in the yard, she didn't try to cross his line. She knew it would come across as cruel, but she was afraid of being rejected all over again. 'Plus, why would Michael Myers even care? He was a cold-blooded killer.' She had to remember that. 'He had no reason to care.'

On the fourth day after he'd held her, Joanne guided her out into the yard as usual, and she took her usual walk with her cane, alone. For the second time she accidentally stepped across Myers' yellow line, and again only realised it when he grabbed her, and once more pushed her up against the concrete block. This time though, she could almost feel his fury. Fear clamped down on her heart. 'Not another angry man, not another angry man,' the mantra running through her head over and over again. Please… somehow, he must've sensed her fear because he loosened his grip on her a little. But he made no move to hold her or even hold her hand, which told Danielle he wasn't happy at all. What was worse, she was pretty sure she knew why.

"Michael…" She started but he briefly touched her arm and she understood. He didn't want to hear it. He pushed a piece of paper into her hand and then she heard the clinking of his chains as he stepped away from her. Danielle walked back to Joanne, blinking back tears. When they reached the cells later, Michael made no move to approach her, walking straight to his cell. Joanne guided Danielle towards hers.

"Can you wait just a second please?" Danielle quietly asked her, who nodded. Danielle pulled the door almost closed then turned to Joanne and handed her the piece of paper. "Michael gave me this just now in the yard," she said quietly on the verge of tears. "Please can you read it to me? I know it's not going to be good… He's furious with me Joanne and I think I know why…"

"Because you've avoided him again?" She asked. Danielle couldn't help it. She collapsed into Joanne's arms once more, sobbing uncontrollably. Joanne held her for a moment before pushing her softly to the bed and opening the letter. She was a silent while she read it and then she began to speak.

Danielle, stop playing games with me. You are seriously testing my patience. While I totally understand why you are afraid, has it not occurred to you that I, too, have never felt anything like this before? Like I've heard you say numerous times, 'but he's a killer.' You want to be close to me one moment then avoid me the next is not exactly pleasing to me. What are you afraid of? Are you afraid I'll do what he did to you? Or is it yourself that you're afraid of? Afraid to trust me because of him? I understand both angles, on this you need to believe and trust me. I do. But I will not take any more mixed signals from you. I know it scares you and I get it, but how can I show you what you want from me if you don't let me? I won't lie to you Danielle; you've hurt me by doing as you have. Just think over what I have written, and I will come to you in a couple of days. Do not try to talk to me. Make up your mind, Danielle. Trust, or don't. But this is your last chance. Once you've decided there's no turning back.

M.

Danielle felt her heart turn to ice. Damn she'd deserved that and was surprised he hadn't written it in a much worse way. He could've and she knew it. But he was trying to be gentle, while at the same time getting his point across. Danielle felt like a total bitch, even more than she had before he'd given her the letter. She pressed her face into her pillow and let the tears fall as soon as Joanne closed and locked the door.

Danielle hardly slept that night. When the breakfast buzzer sounded, she was once again ready for it. Feeling like the biggest bitch ever, she headed out of her cell with Joanne and towards the dining room. Michael was right. She shouldn't treat him like that. That in itself was a form of abuse, just like what Adam had done to her. She felt like she was no better than him. She could see the mixed signals she was inadvertently giving him, and it wasn't fair to him. He had every right to be angry, hurt even. "I think I love you," she'd said. So now she had to show him she trusted him. God knew she'd tried to deny it for long enough, but now that she'd told him, she had to prove it and constantly running from him was not the way to do so. If he let her have that last chance that was.

She debated walking across his line, so she did, softly calling his name. She heard the clink of chains which meant he was there, but he didn't make any move to come close her. He was still angry. Blinking away tears, Danielle stepped away. God, she hated herself right now. What kind of woman was she? He wasn't Adam, even though he made Adam look like a saint, but he wasn't Adam. He hadn't subjected Danielle to the living hell her life had been for the last year, so how could she do this to him? In fact, he'd been nothing but kind and gentle towards her. A killer. The irony didn't escape her. But shit she needed him. This served her right. She wanted to be in his arms so bad it hurt. She re-joined Joanne who softly squeezed her arm, seeing the pain etched on face her now falling tears.

Danielle had shown the letter to Dr Stark the day after she'd received it and Dr Stark had sighed, softly squeezing her arm.

"Danielle, Danielle." She'd said and Danielle had simply said, "I know, I'm a bitch."

"While I wouldn't use those exact words," Dr Stark said. "You must remember that he's not Adam. Don't say he's a killer, we all know that. But between you and him it can't play a part. You can't let it Danielle if you want to explore the closeness you and he appear to have found. Killer, whatever. He's still a man. You are seeing a side of him that no one else has, so for you to keep running from him, I won't lie to you, is a little unfair, maybe even a little selfish. 'You close to me one moment and avoiding me the next is not pleasing me,' he says. That's not a threat to your life Danielle, that's the words of a hurting man. He obviously feels something for you and like I told you when you first told me, you should try to explore it. But running from him will not help you and may not help in your recovery either. Mr. Myers could be a key in helping your healing, but you need to do some of the work yourself too."

Danielle stood in the yard, trying desperately not to cry. All she wanted to do was to curl up into a ball and cry. She didn't want to move again. "Can I go back in please?" She asked Joanne. The doctors had decided when she first arrived that the design of Smith's Grove, deliberately designed to confuse patients if they tried to escape, would mean Danielle wouldn't have a chance of finding her way back, so she would always be guided.

"Sure," Joanne said, beginning to guide her back in. Danielle hated not having her independence, but sincerely hoped that once she was out of here, if she was ever out of here that was, she could get at least some of it back.

They had almost reached the doors, when Danielle tripped over something and hit the hard concrete, hitting the back of her head. She immediately felt dazed, and groggy. She tried to stand, but her legs were shaking too badly. What the hell had she fallen over?

"You son of a bitch," she heard someone shout, then the loud clanking of chains. "Let him," she heard another man's voice say. It sounded like, Dr Loomis? Again, Danielle tried to stand up but was still shaking too badly. She felt the warm trickle of blood running down the back of her neck.

"Fuck, that was great," said the nastily familiar voice she now had no trouble in recognising. Jefferson. She could hear guards wrestling with him. "I had to do it; I've wanted to do that since she got here. Stupid blind bitch! If she'd just given in and let me fuck her, I wouldn't have done it. Doesn't even like a man paying her tits a compliment. She deserved it."

That was when Danielle felt gentle arms around her as someone knelt at her side and heard the clink of chains. "Michael?" She breathed. "Sir?" The word had just slipped out before she'd realised it. Had the guards unchained him from his block so he could help her? She felt his other arm come around her, holding her tightly before his soft, warm hand raised her head and she felt someone kneel on her other side. Joanne. "Just having a look sweetheart," the guard said. "Do you want a stretcher? Are you ok to walk?"

"I… I don't know," Danielle said truthfully, tears streaming down her face. "What… What happened?"

"Jefferson deliberately stuck out his foot," said a voice. It was Dr Loomis. Danielle could hear his open contempt. "I'm so sorry Danielle. Are you ok?"

"It's not that bad of a cut," Joanne said. "We just need to bandage it. Do you want to try to walk or…"?

But Joanne got no further because Myers stood then and slowly lifted Danielle up into his arms, so he could carry her. It was only then she realised, with shock, that they'd removed his chains so he could do.

"Sir, I'm so sorry," she sobbed against his shoulder as he carried her into the building. "Every word you said in that letter I deserved! God, I'm as bad as Adam but in a different way! You didn't deserve that! It's not your fault I'm scared. You didn't do what Adam did to me! You've been just the opposite, showing me nothing but kindness and care and I treat you like that? Sir, I'm so sorry! I don't deserve you to do t…"

Michael tightened his arms around her as he carried her into his cell. "Sir," Danielle begged. "Don't do this just because of what happened. If you're still angry with me I…" Again, he stopped her by slowly laying her down on his bed. Joanne entered the cell, holding a first aid kit, and began to clean and bandage the cut. Danielle let out a cry of pain, Michael's hand took hers.

"Sorry sweetheart," Joanne soothed. "Nearly done."

It felt like forever to Danielle, but finally Joanne was finished, and the door was closed and locked. Danielle knew it was time for the truth. All of it.

"Sir," she started but Myers squeezed her hand in his. When Danielle tried again by saying "Sir", He once more stopped her with a squeeze, and it was then that she understood. He was telling her not to call him "Sir."

"Well, if you squeeze my hand every time I do, then I'll keep doing it," Danielle gave him a small grin. He just pulled her close. Danielle took a deep breath. This was it.

"Michael Myers, I'm so sorry! I…" Again, he squeezed her hand. Taking another deep breath, she started to speak.

"Mr. Myers, my…"

Myers squeezed her hand again, stopping her. She raised an eyebrow. "Michael?" The killer squeezed her hand again and Danielle couldn't help the affection which swelled inside her at this very small but kind gesture.

"Michael," she started again and felt his arm tighten. "My name is Danielle Hayward; I've been totally blind since birth and I'm here because I tried to hang myself following my ex-boyfriend, Adam Dawson, abusing me for the last two years. He raped, controlled, assaulted, and basically treated me like shit. His philosophy in life is that women only live to serve men, make their dinner, have sex with them, and so on. I had absolutely no control of my own life, money, who I spoke to, friends, you name it." Slowly she raised her face. "That huge scar?" She touched her right cheek. "I got that when Adam slashed my face with a knife while he was raping me because I was talking to another man, even though the man was my tutor."

Michael made no response except to squeeze her hand again, holding her close. "Thanks for caring about me," Danielle said quietly. "I really appreciate it. I know what you almost did to Jefferson, I hope that wasn't on my account. He's a sexual predator, but I'm used to them by now Sir…" She took a breath. "Michael."

He squeezed her hand again and Danielle felt her heart swell to the point it would burst. A cold-blooded killer was acknowledging the fact that she'd corrected herself from calling him Sir and the effort it'd taken? She could hardly believe it. As a result, it wasn't long before her eyes were drooping, pure exhaustion taking over.