So, here's the next part... please REVIEW!!! i really like them and they really do encourage me to continue!! Thanks! :)

Everywhere I looked there was blood, death and decay. People with painful skin blemishes, dying, moaning, screaming in agony as they were slowly tortured to death. Endless worrying, fear, pain and pity. A woman screaming that she wasn't infected, loudly pleading that if she cried hard enough, the unimaginable wouldn't be true. An old couple holding hands as they bled from the nose and wore faces of utmost pain, pushing through the pain to be able to be to live together for as long as possible. Gael suffering. Gael dead. Tony in the hotel, holding his neck, collapsing, dying.

"No," I cried, opening my eyes to the bedroom.

I was crying so hard; I turned over to feel that Tony was next to me. He was slowly breathing up and down. I continued to sob uncontrollably, the images of agonizing death still haunting my thoughts, filling my head, unable to vanish them. Not wanting to wake Tony, I crawled out of bed, stumbling slightly into the bathroom. I bent down and turned on the water, splashing it onto my face and putting my mouth under the water to drink out of the faucet. I tasted tears mixed in with the water and sank onto the tile floor, leaning against the bathtub, curling up into a ball. 'Tony's alive; he's okay,' I had to say over and over to myself. As tears ran down my damp face I spread my legs out in front of me and laid my head on the porcelain tub. But as the thought of Tony on the operating table, shooting and killing the man at the hotel and his wife's reaction, grief, and blame, and then Gael asking me to tell his wife and kids that he loved them, I choked up and began sobbing out loud again, wrapping my arms around my knees, tears streaming down my face and chin as I grabbed my chest, the physical effects of my crying taking a toll on me. As I sobbed harder, I reached over and threw up into the toilet. I leaned on the side of the bathtub, crouched in front of the toilet, feeling so physically ill that I wasn't sure if I was going to be sick again or not. I was hot, flushed and overheated. I felt nauseous, dizzy and weak. I felt as though the pain was overcoming me, making it difficult to breathe at all. I blinked and felt my long wet eyelashes hit my face. I put my head back and tried to swallow through my pain.

"Michelle," said Tony softly, walking into the bathroom in his boxers, squinting at the brightness of the bathroom light.

I had closed the door to the bathroom so as not to wake him. I looked up at him, face shining with tears, and saw the devastation and caring in his eyes. He sank down to the floor and wrapped me in his arms. This didn't help me stop crying, but in the reverse, made me cry harder. I thought of all the times I had almost lost him, all the times I had been terrified I would never see him again. I pulled away from him as I threw up again, the thought of never seeing him again, of all the things that could've happened to him, overwhelming me. He held my hair back, next standing up and filling a cup with water, sinking back onto the ground and handing it to me. He wrapped his arms around me again. I took the water thankfully and once I cleaned up my mouth, I settled back into his arms, sobbing in near hysterics. He kissed the top of my head, cuddling his face into my curls.

"Sweetheart its gonna be okay," he whispered softly.

"God I almost lost you," I sobbed, slipping down him and now hiding my face in his chest.

"I know, I know," he said in a soothing voice, "I almost lost you too. But we're both still here, and we're both alive. We survived, and we can still be together forever."

"Oh I love you," I said in a clearer, breathy voice, my crying becoming silent.

I put my hand on his face and with clear desperation, kissed him. He kissed me back, putting his hand on my free one and the other on my face. I pulled back and leaned my head onto his. He reached over with the hand on my face and wiped underneath my eyes.

"You are never going to lose me," he said firmly, jaw set and eyes resolute.

My lip quivered as I looked at him. A couple strands of my hair were in front of my face, and with a softened expression he gently brushed them away from my face, tucking a few curls behind my ear and smiling softly at me.

"No," I said, finally finding my voice, "I never am. And you will never lose me. You're my world Tony."

Tears streamed down my face as flashes of that day continued to prance across my mind. But the one image that stood the strongest, the one that was able to help me control my grief, was the image of Tony, right in front of me, still there, still loving me, still mine.

"And you're my world Michelle," he said, lowering his lips to mine and kissing me so softly that when he pulled back slightly, the only thing that reassured me that it had happening was the lingering tingle on my lips and the shiver that ran down my spine, the shiver I got every time I felt his lips touch mine, the one that I knew had something to do with how deep my love for him ran.

It was engraved in every bone of my body.