Michael sat back in a chair in Devon's office. He ached from head to toe. The bruises on his face burning into his skull. And he was hungry; a realisation he'd just come to, but he wasn't sure if he could manage to keep anything down.

"Here," Bonnie's soft voice over his shoulder and sudden appearance of a glass started Michael violently. Almost knocking the glass out of her hand, she miraculously managed not to spill any. "Sorry," She apologised quickly moving away.

Afraid that she'd leave, he grasped her wrist. "No, it's me. I'm just a bit jumpy."

Bonnie raised an eyebrow, "a bit?"

Michael tried to see the humour in it and failed miserably. "I'm sorry, Bon, but I just can't....."

She held up a hand to quiet him, to let him know he had no need to explain himself. Making sure Michael knew where she was, she placed the glass of water on a nearby table then moved behind him. "Do you have a headache?" He nodded stiffly in front of her. "Then relax against me." Placing her hands on either side of his head just behind his ears, she eased him back to her.

Michael's eyes closed of their own accord as he felt his head pillowed against the softness of her breasts. Her hands began a slow massage from behind his ears, to the top of his head, to his temples - where she lingered trying to ease his discomfort without hitting any bruised areas. Then down to his shoulders and neck. he sighed under her attentions, feeling a large part of the tension that had been eating at him dissolve. Things were a long way from being resolved, but his family was standing beside him on this. It had been his greatest fear that they would blame him, or be revolted by what he had done. Instead Devon had been hovering, deeply concerned, Kitt had absolved him of everything - in the way only Kitt ever could and now Bonnie was taking care of him.

"Thank you," he whispered afraid she'd stop. Her hands moved to his neck, kneading just under his jawline where the large muscles flexed from shoulder to ear. "Thanks for the dogtags. I don't know where I'd be without those."

Bonnie chuckled softly, "You're welcome. I wanted to make sure you had a fail safe for when you got in trouble."

"When?" he joked softly, finally feeling comfortable enough to do so.

"When," she confirmed with her own smile. "I've been around you and Kitt for long enough to know you will attract trouble at some point." She moved to his closed eyes, softly circling two fingers over each lid. He hummed in appreciation. Her smile disappeared as she took the time to really look at him and account all his injuries. She was used to seeing bruises on his arms and face, but this was beyond cruelty. His throat was bruised severely, almost black from where someone had obviously tried to strangle him. He had a jagged gash that was now taped up across the right side of his face; even the tape couldn't hide the bright red and blackish yellow from the infection that had set in from whatever piece of scrap metal they had used on him. His lips were swollen and split in a few places, both cheek bones were black and blue with a sickly yellowish tinge highlighting them. Just above his left temple was a goose egg so swollen it had broken open and bled. They must have knocked him silly with that blow. He had switched to a button down shirt and left two buttons open at the neck. From her above perspective she could see some of the welts on his chest from the whip they had used on him. His hands lay palms up in his lap - both bandaged, both sliced almost to the bone from the lash. He had obviously used his hands to protect his face. She remembered them roll him in, seeing the blood covered seat inside the car and felt grossly sick. There was a part of her that wondered how he could lean back in the chair without causing himself agony. Another part of her realised that there would be no relief for the constant pain - only variations in intensity. At this point, considering his relaxed state, either the chair had cushioning in just the right places, or her massage was well worth any other discomforts.

She wanted to believe he was enjoying her touch.

Devon stood back from the doorway watching the interaction in his office. From his angle behind and slightly off to the side, he could clearly see the two without being in their direct line of sight. He'd never felt such deep fury as he had the previous night. Two doctors, plus himself had attempted to remove Michael's unconscious body from the car - only to be met with violent, and unexpected resistance. Only Kitt's voice, talking to his only partially aware partner had calmed him to a point where they could lift him onto the gurney. At that point, Kitt had given his report. Though, thinking back, the blood, the torn clothes, wounded face had been all that Devon had focused on - not the possible reasons for Michael's defensive reactions.

To see them like this was an enormous relief. He'd known men that had been raped - granted, Michael had prevented that occurrence by the skin of his teeth - but his initial reactions to being touched that morning were a long way from the responses he was witnessing now. His hopes rose in regard to Michael's speedy recovery. As well as towards the interactions of the two presently immersed in themselves before him.

A small smile touched the older man's lips. They did not see it yet - he was sure. He'd been around long enough to know the signs, the small changes that occurred in the beginning that would lead them down an all too familiar road for him. He prayed to whoever, or whatever might be listening to help them, to give them what they both longed for and deserved.

"I know you're back there, Devon. I can hear you breathing." Michael's voice held definite humour.

"I didn't wish to intrude." He admitted honestly.

"You wouldn't." Bonnie responded. She felt comfortable with Devon seeing this side of her, of her blossoming relationship with the man in front of her. She changed the massage slightly, to more of a caress.

Michael heaved a sigh, fear creeping up on him as the silence in the room extended. "Let's hear it,." he asked flatly.