--Don't own Micah, Lacey, Garrett, Angela, or Danny. I own Gabe and Edith. ...sorry this has taken so long. I've been kind of preoccupied lately -- as I'm sure a lot of you have. Good luck to all and God bless America.--

I wish that I could cry
Fall upon my knees
Find a way to lie
'Bout a home I'll never see
--
from Superman by Five For Fighting

Gabe was in the room in mere seconds.
"Micah?" she cried, dropping to her knees in front of him. "Micah, sweetheart, what's wrong?" His chest hitched; Micah glanced up to make sure they weren't behind her. When it was confirmed, he buried his face in his hands again.
"It's -- it's noth-- nothing--" He sobbed hard, and it made his ribs ache. Gabe slid her arms around him, hugging him tightly to her chest.
"Calm down," she whispered, and ran her hand soothingly over Micah's hair. "Calm down, calm down. Take a deep breath. It's all right."
"N-n-no it's n-n-n--" His words kept getting caught in his throat. Frustrated and frightened and utterly worn out, Micah felt his self control snap in half. He lost it completely and felt the uncontrollable sobs spill from his mouth, making his chest twist painfully with the effort. The memories just kept coming back-- Lacey squirming in fear of the knife against her throat; Angela bound on the bed of cornstalks; Garrett impaling Mordechai with a spear; Danny standing in dumb silence while the blades ate away at Micah's legs.
"Oh, sweetheart," Gabe murmured, her own voice thick with tears. She pressed his face to her shoulder and continued to run her fingers through his hair. "Sweetheart, I had no idea this would upset you so much--" Micah didn't respond. The sobs hadn't subsided yet, and all he wanted to do was disappear into the comfort of her arms. Gabe was still talking. "--so sorry, I had no idea... I promise, it's going to be all right--"
"Should we come back later?" The voice at the door startled them both. Micah didn't even bother to look up; his throat contracted in another painful sob and he buried his face further into the soft fabric of Gabe's shirt.
"No," she said thinly, voice shaking -- and this time it wasn't with tears, it was quite obviously anger that made her voice tremble. "No, I do not think you should 'come back later'. I think you should leave right now and think twice before ever setting foot on my property again." The tone of Gabe's voice made Micah's sobs lessen just a little. The anger behind her words -- pure and black and terribly real -- was frightening. He didn't think he'd ever heard Gabe so mad.
"Miss Sterling," Garrett said patiently, "we really don't want to bother you--"
"Then leave!" Gabe cried, not even turning away from Micah to yell at the intruder. Angela's voice, soft and careful, came from behind the doorway.
"Come on, John." A pause. "We'd better get going."
"But--"
"Out," Gabe ordered, and directed her next words to Micah. "I'm so sorry, honey. I had no idea they would do this to you. I'm so sorry." Micah's sobs had died down to dry shudders, but he couldn't seem to keep still.
"N-n-not your f-f-fault," he whispered. There was silence. He guessed the others had left. Gabe placed her palm on his back and moved it in a slow, soothing circle.
"Sh." Gently, she pressed her lips to the area right below his ear. "Sweetheart. Sweetheart. Oh, Micah, I'm so sorry..." Micah shuddered hard. He had never let himself go so far -- not even when he had nightmares of the most horrible kind -- and now felt awful for making Gabe feel so guilty. But the sudden, total shock of seeing them here... He hadn't thought it would be so frightening. Micah shuddered again and moved as close to Gabe as he could get. She seemed the one comforting thing in this whole personal hell.
"I'm fine now," he said softly, pressing his forehead firmly to her shoulder. "Really. Just f--" Micah shuddered hard and had to start over. "Mm. Just fine." Gabe was silent for one long moment. She rocked him carefully back and forth, hands moving over his back in an effort to relieve the tension.
"Are you sure?" She kissed the area below his ear again, gentle and tender. "Sweetheart. Are you sure?"
(No, the only thing I'm sure of is that everything was fine until that bastard wrote an article about me.)
"Positive," he mumbled, but moved even closer, despite what he had just said. Gabe didn't seem to mind. She ran her fingers through his hair carefully and whispered in his ear.
"Do you want me to move you to the bed so you can lay down? Maybe sleep would do you good."
"No," Micah said softly, then reconsidered. "Wait -- yes, please." Another hard shudder went through his body; he winced. "Ow."
"All right." Gabe slid her arms around him and pulled Micah slowly from the chair, setting him carefully on the bed. He fell back tiredly against the pillow. Smiling weakly, she smoothed Micah's hair with her palm. "Feeling better? Because I just feel so bad for--"
"Gabe." He took her free hand gently and laced their fingers together. "It's not your fault. I'm just a little... surprised. I'll be fine."
(Understatement of the year, eh?)
Gabe brought their laced fingers to her lips and kissed them lightly.
"Do you want me to stay with you?" Part of him immediately clambered, "YES!", but another part of him protested.
(Sure. Have her stay. Be weak and sickly forever, then. Are you or aren't you a man, for Christ's sake?! You've seen death and destruction, and four average people can send you into a screaming fit. Sad, isn't it?)
Part of his mind cried feebly, yelling that he needed Gabe now, but the cynic in his head won the battle.
"No, thank you," he whispered, averting his eyes. There was a short, surprised pause.
"Are you sure?" she murmured, and stroked his hand lightly with her thumb. Micah nodded.
"Positive." He hesitated, then offered a very weak smile. "I think I'm going to get some of that sleep you suggested." Gabe paused again.
"All right... if you're sure." She released his hand and stood.
"I'm sure." Micah stared solemnly up at her. Gabe began for the door, then leaned over him instead.
"I love you," she murmured, and pressed her lips gently to his. Micah kissed back as best he could. When he pulled away, he smiled experimentally.
"I love you too," he mumbled, and the words made him feel a little better. Gabe stroked his hair tenderly, then headed for the door.
"Sleep well, Micah." She switched off the light and took the doorknob in her hand. "Sleep well."

He awoke from frightening dreams of familiar voices and faces to the sound of a telephone ringing. Micah squinted against the sunlight of late afternoon. He didn't know how long he'd slept, and frankly, he didn't want to. The phone rang again, loud and insistent, and Micah's eyes dropped to the cordless on the nightstand.
"Gabe," he mumbled to the air, rubbing at his face with a palm. The phone rang for a third time. With a sleepy groan, Micah picked up the cordless and jabbed the talk button. He opened his mouth to say hello, but Gabe had just picked it up.
"Hello," she asked, and it sounded worn out, weary.
"Miss Sterling," began a deep voice that hurried on, "Please, don't hang up. Hear me out."
(Garrett.)
Micah's fingers tightened around the phone. He listened hard.
"Mr. Garrett." Gabe's voice was tight and angry. "I believe I made myself quite clear--"
"Please, Miss Sterling, I have a favor to ask of you. If you'll just--"
"Favor?!" she cried, her tone high and cracked. "You nearly sent poor Micah into a nervous breakdown, and now you want a favor?" Micah gripped the phone even tighter and pressed his ear hard to the reciever.
"Please, Miss Sterling. I am a reporter at Newsweek, and my editor would like me to write a follow-up story on Mr. Balding." There was a short pause.
"I still have not been told how you and Micah know each other," Gabe said thinly. Garrett took in a slow breath.
"It's a long story. One I would be happy to tell you, but first -- let me ask you the favor." Another pause. Micah felt his breath quicken a little, but he managed to stay quiet enough to remain unnoticed.
"Go on." Gabe sounded defeated. "I'm waiting."
"My editor would like me and my family to travel to a town called Hemmingford for a little while, and she wants Micah there too." There was a sharp sucking in of breath; Garrett hurried on. "It won't be long, Miss Sterling, just a week or so--"
"I'm afraid you'll have to talk to Micah," Gabe said stiffly. "Until then, I advise you don't--" Micah found his voice at last.
"No, Gabe, I'm here." He was embarrassed to hear his words shake a little. "I'm on the extension in my bedroom."
"Micah," she murmured. "When did you wake up?" She hurried on before he could answer. "Mr. Garrett wants to ask you something." There was an uncomfortable pause.
"Um..." Garrett paused, then spoke quickly. "Micah, I'm doing a follow-up story on--"
"I heard," Micah muttered.
"Oh. Anyway, would you mind a week-long vacation in Hemmingford? Just to take a few interviews, maybe a news report--"
"Some vacation." Micah rubbed at his eyes wearily. "It's not exactly something I'd jump at the opportunity for, Mr. Garrett." Garrett paused.
"You'd be free to bring your family. Miss Sterling and Ms. Hoffman would be welcome to come with you." Gabe was silent. Micah cleared his throat a little.
(I don't want to go)
"This is a very difficult decision, Mr. Garrett," he said evenly.
(difficult my ass I don't want to go)
"I understand that, Micah. And I'm not forcing you into anything." Micah gripped the phone hard. He knew he didn't want to go, but if he didn't... it would just be running away from his past. He'd done that enough lately.
(but I don't want to go please don't make me go)
"...but this is a very important piece," Garrett was still saying, "and I would really appreciate your help." Micah's throat tightened painfully; his eyes stung with hot new tears. He was glad Gabe could only hear him, not see him.
"Sort of like I owe it to you, don't I?" Micah asked drily. It was the unspoken thought -- Garrett coughed slightly to break the awkward silence.
"I didn't say that."
"Oh, but you were thinking it." Micah smirked, but the tears were still fresh in his eyes and threatening to spill. In all truthfulness, it scared the hell out of him to think about going back... there. "Gabe," he said quietly, the edge to his tone softening. "What do you think?"
"I think," she said, voice closer and louder than he had expected, "that you look like you need to do this." Micah glanced up -- Gabe was in the doorway, the other cordless phone forgotten in her hand. Embarrassed, he raked the back of his hand over his eyes.
"I don't--"
"If you don't want to go, Micah," she murmured, sitting beside him on the bed, "then don't go. But if you think this will stop the -- the nightmares and the memories, you should go." Gabe lifted a hand and lightly touched his cheek, where a teardrop had fallen unheeded. "You should go, Micah," she said softly. Micah swallowed hard, forcing the painful lump back into his stomach.
(but I don't want to go)
"I'll go," he whispered to Garrett. Gabe smiled, somewhat sadly, and lifted the reciever of her phone to her ear.
"When are we leaving, Mr. Garrett?"
"I'd like to leave tomorrow at nine a.m., if you don't mind," Garrett said, sounding relieved.
"I'll call the hospital tomorrow and see if Edith and I can get a week off." Gabe ran her free hand soothingly over Micah's hair, the mournful smile still on her lips.
"Yes, Miss Sterling. Call me if you have any questions. My hotel number is 555-1726. And Micah--" His attention was drawn back to the tinny voice on the phone. "--thank you very much for your cooperation. We'll do our best to make this situation... as casual as possible."
"Yes, Mr. Garrett," Micah said quietly. Without a goodbye, the phone clicked; Garrett was gone. Micah and Gabe hung up in silence. There was a long, awkward pause.
"Would you like to tell me what happened?" Gabe asked softly, stroking his hair tenderly. Micah felt more hot tears escape his eyes and stream down his cheeks.
"No," he croaked, his voice cracking. "No, Gabe, I can't tell you, not yet--" She pulled him to her chest and hugged him hard.
"All right." She rocked him back and forth carefully. "All right, not yet. But later? Later you will tell me what's wrong?" Micah pressed his face into her shirt, embarrassment making his face hot.
"Later," he confirmed shakily, and bit back a quiet sob.
"All right," Gabe repeated. She kissed the top of his head gently. "Now calm down, honey. Oh, God, please calm down. Just stop crying... I can't stand it when you cry." The tone of her voice only made the rush of tears stronger; Micah felt horrible for making Gabe sad. He tried to hide his tears -- the sound of it, at least.
"Sorry." He felt arms slowly wrap around him.
"Oh, don't be sorry. Just feel better, sweetheart. Because everything's going to be fine." Gabe pressed another soft kiss to his hair and hugged him soothingly. "Everything's going to be fine." But everything wasn't going to be fine.

Because they were going to Hemmingford.

Micah wheeled slowly out of his room, glancing about. His tears had finally subsided, so when his face was no longer puffy and sore, he decided it was time to come out of the hole. Gabe was in the living room, watching TV with her head propped dejectedly up on her hand. When she spotted him, her face broke into a tentative smile.
"Feeling better?" she murmured. Micah wheeled towards her, situating the chair between the couch and the coffee table.
"A little," he admitted, and smiled. Gabe stroked his shoulder lovingly.
"I don't want you to cry anymore." She leaned over to give him a brief hug. "I don't want you to cry anymore, so please don't." Micah turned the short hug into a long one, wrapping his arms tightly around her.
"I won't," he said softly, and pressed a light kiss against the side of her head. "And thank you for putting up with me, Gabe." She laughed quietly in his ear and pulled back slightly.
"Putting up with you? Because, you know, it's such a chore to be around one as sexy as Micah Balding." He flushed a little and leaned back into his chair.
"You're so funny." Gabe paused, then smiled broadly.
"You're blushing," she pointed out, biting her lip to hide the grin. Micah blinked in surprise and rubbed at his cheek.
"I am not."
"You are too!" Gabe giggled quietly. "It's okay. I rather like that shade of pink on you." He felt his face burning a little more, but he couldn't hold back a smile.
"I'll blush lavender if you want me to," Micah said softly. She laughed again and leaned forward, pressing a light kiss against his forehead.
"That's not necessary." Gabe opened her mouth to say something when the phone rang.
"I'll get it," he said quickly, and wheeled towards the phone on the wall. Micah stretched a bit to grab it, but managed. "Hello?" he said, feeling cheerful for the first time in a long time.
"Is this Micah Balding?" murmured a girl's voice. Micah blinked in surprise and raised his eyebrows.
"Um... yes, it is. May I ask who's--"
"No, you may not, because you know who it is." The voice wasn't soft anymore; it was fast and harsh with an edge that made Micah uncomfortable.
"I'm afraid I don't," he said slowly.
"Oh, you know who I am. You almost killed me, you little bastard."
("Danny, get me out of here! ...you little bastard!")
"Lacey?" Micah whispered, and caught Gabe looking at him from the living room. He turned the wheelchair so she couldn't see his face. "Lacey, listen, you have to let me explain--"
"Oh. You've got an explanation. Well, by all means!" Lacey's voice was cold and dripped sarcasm. "This ought to be a doozy." Micah grasped for words.
("SHE IS THE FIRST TO BE SACRIFICED!")
"Lacey, I thought Garrett explained--"
"Explained what, Micah?" Lacey demanded. "You're wondering if he gave me a good excuse for why you held a knife to my throat and nearly had my boyfriend chop me to pieces?"
"Lacey," Micah said, trying to be patient. "Please--"
"Or what about a reason for why you killed the only family I had left? Or maybe he told me why it was perfectly okay for you to turn an entire town into a living Hell!" Micah pressed the receiver harder to his ear as if it would help get his point across.
"Lacey--"
"Yes, Micah!" she screeched, voice tinny and distant. "Yes, he told me why! And it was the shittiest excuse I'd ever heard!"
"Lacey," he said again, insistent. "Please, Lacey, it's the truth! I was--"
"Possessed?" She was nearly screaming now. "Is that what you want me to believe, Micah? That you were possessed?!" He started to protest, desperate and panicked -- and then he stopped. It hadn't been his fault. It hadn't been his choice to be possessed, nor had it been his choice to kill. So there was no reason to be sorry. No reason to be begging for forgiveness.
"You know what, Lacey?" Micah said coolly. "Screw you." There was a short, shocked silence -- and then Lacey recovered.
"I just want to warn you to stay away from me on this trip, Micah," she hissed.
"It'll be my pleasure." Micah sneered at the reciever and hung it up harshly. Gabe spoke from behind, voice soft and careful.
"Who was that?" He turned the wheelchair slowly and watched her for one long moment. Then, at last, he smiled experimentally.
"Don't worry about it." Micah wheeled slowly towards her and took her hand, being infintely gentle. "I've just decided that I'm not going to cry anymore over this trip." Gabe still looked worried; she watched him intently as he wheeled past her and into the living room.
"Micah," she murmured.
"What's on TV tonight?" he asked complacently. And the matter had been dropped. There were no more phone calls after that.