Knight Rider
Remember The Knight
Epilogue
Part XII
By Ldydeb
The sun was beginning to rise on the warm November day. The hospital bed creaked under Michael's large muscular frame. He tried to move, tried to turn over. He lay on his stomach, his arm attached to a silver steel pole by plastic IV tubes. An oxygen mask was lightly strapped to his face helping him breathe.
Michael felt drained of all feeling except for physical pain and sorrow. He had been dreaming. Selena was bound inside KITT, her face filled with terror, her tears. Again he saw his friend explode surrounded with black smoke. His eyes opened to find Bonnie curled up in a hospital recliner asleep. He felt a soft feminine hand brush his forehead. The hand belonged to a young nurse. She smiled, "Welcome to County Medical, Mr. Knight. Please do not try to move. You don't want to rip open the stitched in your back."
Bonnie's eyes opened. She sat up and asked, relief and worry liberally evident in her voice, "He's awake."
Michael groggily replied, "Bonnie? Selena? KITT?"
Bonnie leaned forward, her hand on his shoulder, "Just get well, Michael. KITT will be waiting for you."
What? Michael thought, had he heard correctly?
Bonnie observed Michael's face, saw the question. She smiled down at him, "Yes, Michael, KITT is still alive. So please just concentrate on getting better."
Michael swallowed, a difficult thing when force to lie on his stomach. He demanded, "And Selena? Is she…where?"
Bonnie took a deep breath and answered, "You know need to know that now, Michael."
Michael asked, "Why, how bad is it, Bonnie?"
Bonnie answered, "Luckily not as bas as it could have been, Michael. Lennox punctured your lung and you didn't help matters when you fought him."
Michael's raspy voice was harsh, "Is he dead?"
Bonnie replied, "No. He's recovering from your stab wound in prison infirmary. That is where he will spend the rest of his life. His lawyer had no choice but to plead guilty and thro Lennox on the mercy of the court. It was the only way to keep his client from death row."
Michael spat venomously, "That's where he should be. What about Judson?"
A familiar voice was heard behind his head. The formal Bostonian accented voice informed, "He has escaped, Michael. I am sorry."
Bonnie nodded to the nurse before Michael returned to dangerous subjects. The nurse came forward, a syringe in her hand. She said, "That is enough for now, Mr. Knight. You need to rest." She sent medicine into Michael's body and soon he floated away drifting back to his dreams.
Weeks later Michael sat in his apartment on Foundation property. His physical recuperation had been slow hampered by a depression that would be much harder to heal. He looked down at his dinner. There were large pieces of freshly fried fish with potatoes and onions. His mind pulled him backward in time. Emerald eyes laughing at him, while her lush lips dipped from a crystal wine glass. His cheeks heated from the tears coming freely down again. His heart wanted to die in his chest, to rid itself from its pain. Unable to eat, Michael pushed his plate away. Even though the hour was early, he decided to seek the safety of his bed. On his nightstand lay the medicines that he still needed to heal. The last one to go down was to help him sleep. That one he took two of wanting to hide from the world in his dreams. He lay back against his pillows, staring at the ceiling until the drug took over his consciousness and plunged him into a deep sleep.
Sometime during the night Michael floated to the bungalow by the lake. He found his way up the stairs to the master suite at the end of the hall. There his moon lit angel waited; her arms reaching for him. She knelt in the center of the canopied bed surrounded by sheer, shimmering panels making her ethereal. His heartbeat quickened, his body moving on its own toward her. He spoke, "You're dead."
She smiled, "For you, My Knight, for Christmas…For tonight, I am A live! Love me before I disappear."
The Angel pulled him to her tenderly, tasting his lips with hers. Her lips moved like tissue over his cheeks, soaking up his love for her in his tears. Her tears made love to his as nose touched nose, cheek caressed cheek. Michael fiercely grabbed her arms welding her into him. They were pressed against each other on their knees. Michael was desperate to keep her with him; desperate to make love to her as slow as possible knowing she'd be gone with their climax. He took her off her knees, pushing her under him on the bed. Their kisses never ceased; a rhythm building with each passing moment.
Michael rose up over her, pinning her between his kneeling legs. His hands inched their way over her skin, his eyes memorizing every curve, every blemish, every mole. He felt her raise her hips in invitation as his fingertips brushed her breasts. He bent over, flicking his tongue over the center, teasing them to beg for more. When he was gratified that one had been generously paid attention to, he moved to the other. Sighs of pure joy reached his ears, as did the words of his angel's love.
His body was becoming a live with a heady sensation. The Angel's hands found he secret place and began to work their magic, lovingly and longingly. His passion rose up a degree, he leaned over to kiss the breasts he'd been prodding to become alive. His labored breath tickled her skin and he watched waves of goose-flesh" pass down her body, little hairs rising up for him to tingle more. He heard her urge him to make love to her. But he was not ready. He wanted to keep her with him as long as he could.
The Angel would not be satisfied with that. She quickly flipped him to his back. Her mouth blazed a trail of fire from his throat to his thighs. He kept contact with her, caressing her back, pulling her lips to his while her hands worshipped him. Again he tasted her tears, joined in her bittersweet sorrow. He begged, "Don't leave, Moon lit Angel."
The moon lit angel responded, "I must my love. You are dreaming. In the morning the dream will end and I will be gone." She bent her head to his lips and begged, "So Love me, Knight! Love me hard, while we still have time." The she kissed him.
He felt her valiant efforts to hold back the urgent violence of her passion. He felt her legs entwine in his and then straddle him until he was buried inside her. She did not move, only rose to sit, pulling his hands to her hips. He guided her, then held her against him as he rocked his hips up into her hard. He watched her stretch in satisfaction trying to pull pack from the tension he was building inside her. Her green eyes stared deeply into his, her approaching crest locking her against him. When she couldn't take anymore, she lay hard against h him, now rocking her hips trying to find the right rhythm to the music they were creating.
Michael's hands trapped her head, his fingers becoming tied by her silky tresses. He forced her down, claiming her mouth in a desperate plea of love, to hold on, to stay with him. He didn't want to stop the ride. He wanted to stay in the dream. But his body betrayed him sending waves of his desire into the body of his Moon-lit Angel.
He held her until both fell back to earth. His heart overflowed with tears with the feel of his Angel's body shaking with her own tears. She was whispering her love, begging his forgiveness. He tried to speak, but she again kissed him to silence. She buried herself against his shoulder, seeking his comforting arms, his security, and his love.
The alarm clock on his dresser blared with the incoming morning light. Michael shot up in h is bed, looking for his moon lit Angel. He called out for her, touched the side of the bed he swore he felt her in for most of the night. He was puzzled finding himself nude. The pajama shorts and t-shirt he usually wore thrown to the floor by the bed – in the exact spot his Angel threw them. The bed was filled with her scent mingled with his.
In sadness, he drew the pillow to his face; relishing her feeling her tears' remnants. He added new tears wondering how he could possibly have such a realistic, vivid dream. Her voice murmured in his brain, "It's Love, Knight!"
Michael decided he could not put off going back to work any longer. He believed his grief was driving him to make his dreams real. He needed to fight monsters again to escape fighting the memories of his Selena. Yet, as h e held the pillow, felt her presence still surrounding him, he knew trying to escape was not truly what he wanted. Like the pillow, he would hold her memory against him, seeking it when he needed to. Wit that thought Michael drifted back to sleep.
Later that morning, Michael entered the warehouse's garage. As he passed by Selena's golf-cart, he fought the urge to touch it…as if touching it he would by touching her. He approached KITT's by, greeting, "How are you KIT?"
KITT's sensor lights immediately roamed the area, his driver side door opening. He greeted, "I am doing better than you are, Michael. Are you sure you are ready to work? My sensors tell me the wound in your back in not quite healed yet."
Michael's lips formed a thin line of determined resignation, "I'm ready, KITT. I need to get out of here." Michael climbed inside the driver's seat. He was immediately aware the something was wrong. He expected to find a whole new panel of instruments, new equipment to replace the one's destroyed by the explosion. The only part that was new was the passenger seat, the seat held the aroma of new leather and there were no scratches or worn places.
His brain needed to confirm what he was seeing, his eyes traveled to the center of the steering column. Immediately his mind brought back Selena attacking while they drove to San Francisco. He felt himself smile at the memory, recalling every detail, including KITT's as stance in going to automatic mode. Michael looked again at the center consol where Bonnie had placed the device that monitored persons The Foundation were protecting – specifically the two marked Tina and Jasmine. As he expected their heartbeats were strong, their life signs recording them still living in San Francisco as Michael hit the button to bring them up. The his hand traced the initials that had been stained by bright purple nail polish – Selena's nail polish. Another puzzle for Michael. He demanded, "KITT. I thought you exploded, Buddy. I thought…"
KITT remained silent, only the sound of his monitoring systems getting louder in Michael's ears.
If KITT was not destroyed, Michael thought, then… He pushed the button for Selena's life signs. Immediately her heartbeat pounded within KITT's cockpit. Michael was frantic. He again demanded, "KITT, what happened to Selena? Where is she?"
KITT repeated what the FLAG database reported, "Michael, Selena Kirk is listed as dead."
Michael demanded, "Then why is your monitor deafening me with her heart beat?"
KITT remarked flatly, "That information is not available to you, Michael."
Michael ordered, "KITT, access FLAG Data base."
KITT's computer screen displayed the main page to FLAG'S Website. KITT requested, "I need your password, Michael."
Michael spoke, "ML112sk3. The same one it's been since Selena put in the protocol!"
KITT informed, "Access accepted, Michael."
Michael requested, "Show me the file on Selena, KITT."
After several long silent minutes, KITT responded, "I am sorry, Michael. I cannot show you that information."
Michael argued, "KIT! Get me that file."
KITT replied, "Michael, FLAG security protocol will not let me show you Selena's file. You do not have proper access to that classified file."
"What do you mean classified! How can a dead woman's file be classified?" Michael knew what it meant and for the first time, he uttered, "You are a bastard, Devon!'
KITT responded, "Do you need help, Michael?"
Harshly, Michael answered, "No, KITT, you have done enough already! Thank you." His voice contained traces of rage and betrayal. He climbed out of the driver's seat of the Tran Am unable to control what he was feeling or what he might say. Turning away from his friend, his partner, he said, "Be ready to go in an hour, KITT!"