Echoes

Tony lay alone on a cold bed, with nothing but a few layers of cheap foam between himself and a piece of hard, unforgiving metal. He would never get used to sleeping like this, no matter how long he was stuck in this cell... He was too accustomed to having Michelle's body tucked in snugly against his, warming him from the inside out.

It was his favorite time of day, the minutes they shared together just before falling asleep. As she was starting to doze, Tony would pinch her, causing a squeal to escape her lips. Michelle would roll on top of him, a leg on either side and kiss him, with a big smile on her face, the kind he could feel in the kiss.

But tonight, and for the past two months, Tony had felt nothing of the sort while he slept, unless he felt it in his dreams. Michelle was often the focus of his dreams. Scarier than the fact that he might spend the better part of his life inside the concrete walls that contained him, was the fact that Michelle could get hurt, and he wouldn't be around to protect her anymore. She needed someone to protect her; Tony had come far too close to losing her too many times to leave it up to fate.

Don't let them do this…don't let them do this...

It was a horrible loop that he had caught himself up in. He was in jail because he refused to let Saunders kill his wife, not when he could protect her. Protocol, obligations, all of that had been dismissed in a heartbeat when he saw Michelle... When he saw her pale, wide eyed and afraid…

In all his life Tony couldn't remember ever being happier than when he was when they were together. Each day he would think himself incapable of loving her more, and somehow she'd say something, or do something and Tony would see how possible it really was. How badly it tore him up inside when he realized there was a chance he might not get to experience that anymore.

The past three years have been the best years of my life.

There were so many things Tony loved about Michelle that words were usually inadequate when it came to expressing it. A lump rose in his throat every time he imagined loosing her, watching her suffer, watching her as anything less than completely happy. He loved that she would smile for him, laugh for him, and even force him to do the same, even after a day from hell...He loved the way her curls sprung out in defiance of their restraining clip, tempting Tony to brush them out of her face; always falling in front of her eyes the instant he removed his hand, allowing him to do it again. He loved that Michelle would stick up to him, to everyone, that she had principles, believed in something. Whatever the cause, whatever the results, Michelle stood by it, even if everyone else disagreed…

I did what I thought was right, I still believe that. And I won't let you lie for me.

He was in prison because he had saved Michelle; that was what everyone told him. But in truth, Michelle had saved him. Saved him from a life of loneliness and isolation…drawn him out from the shell he'd sunk into, afraid to trust anyone intimately again.

And she'd done it with such ease, with such beautiful elegance. She'd done it, simply, by loving him. By trusting him without expecting anything in return…by smiling at him and holding him tightly against her chest, stroking his hair at night when he couldn't sleep, when the day had just been too much. She'd cracked the shell when no one else could and because of that he found himself loving her more than words could ever express. Stopping Saunders from hurting Michelle had never even come close to being a choice. He was indebted towards her. Indebted, for the rest of his life to keep Michelle safe, anything else was too unbearable to even imagine.

Tony wondered what Michelle was doing now, if she was alright. He hoped to God she was alright. He hoped to God that she was happy, that she found some way to put all of this behind her. He didn't want her to be dwelling on him, on his misery, even though he was convinced beyond any reasonable doubt that she was. Beyond any reasonable doubt…those were the words that had convicted him. That had put him between a rock and a hard place. That had isolated him from the woman that caused his heart to break a little bit more each night he spent without her. Those words were causing his heart to gradually erode away, until eventually the remnants would dissociate completely into his blood stream, leaving him with nothing but an empty cavity in his chest, and an excruciatingly painful void that should be filled with love. Love for his wife, his country, his…life.

Nothing but echoes. Echoes of Michelle's presence, of his previous life, of how unbelievably happy he'd been since the day of the bomb. Echoes were all they were. Echoes that resonated off every surface in the room, in his body…never quite distinguishable but always there…Taunting, teasing, moving to the next location just as Tony got close enough to feeling some facade of happiness because of them.

I'm okay…I'm not infected…

No, he knew Michelle wasn't happy. He'd seen her a month ago, when she'd returned home from Seattle with only one intent in mind. A guard had escorted him out into the visitor's area. Michelle had been seated at the table, her hair straggly and unkempt, her eyes puffy and raw from all the tears that had passed through them in such a short period of time. She looked tired, like she hadn't been sleeping, and Tony had struggled to remind himself that she probably wasn't. That he knew her well enough to know she was probably lying awake every night sick with worry about him.

You scared the hell out of me…

Michelle had rose when she saw him enter the room, where an array of different prisoners were clinging to loved ones, sobbing hysterically, or conversing in low voices with lawyers. Some people were in there for murder, drug dealing, rape, battery, a whole slew of different transgressions. Tony was in there because of the woman in front of him. Wearing a look of such silent desperation that he honestly believed he might drop dead right on the spot for being unable to soothe her to sleep, for being the cause of all that was hurting her so much.

When he had finally reached Michelle her eyes had searched him carefully, looking for new cuts or bruises or skin abrasions that had formed since her last visit. Luckily, Tony had managed to hide those well. He didn't need to add to her list of worries. Besides, it pained him too much to see the look she got on her face when she found his new injuries…he could no longer numb himself to everything when she looked at him like that…

Satisfied, Michelle had hugged him closely gasping for breath, while Tony remained afraid to hold on too tightly in case the reality of the whole thing might slip away. A tear-stained cheek had been pressed against his, it was cold. Michelle was so cold these days. He wished he could warm her up somehow…

With the hug finally broken they sat down across from each other and Tony spoke the words he'd ran through his mind a thousand times before their meeting:

"You can't keep doing this to yourself Michelle…"

"There's still a chance we'll hear from President Palmer…" her voice was raspy.

"The chances aren't great sweetheart – you know that."

"I won't give up yet."

I can't…I won't give up on you…I can't…

Michelle had reached out a hand, stroking his cheek delicately with her fingers. Her other hand was still laced in Tony's.

When her hand reached his jaw Tony turned his mouth and kissed the inside of Michelle's palm. A few tears fell down her face and she closed her eyes in defiance. Tony knew what she was doing, for he was doing the same thing. Trying to imagine they were somewhere else…That they were at the kitchen table instead of in the middle of maximum-security prison; where the guards were shooting them dirty looks for what could only be construed as "daring to show emotion"…Where the other prisoner's would most like joke about it behind his back when they heard his wife came to visit him…For they dared not breathe a word about her to Tony's face anymore, not after the last time one of them had done so…

The last time had been Tony's second day in prison. A guard had spat something at him, insinuating the reason Tony was locked up, and one of the other prisoner's had decided to bait him with it.

That bitch of yours is probably fucking every guy under the sun Almeida, they always are…and you're in here because you –

The prisoner had never finished his sentence. He was on the ground being beaten to a pulp the second Tony had crossed the room. Tony would pay, later, he knew, but he didn't care.

And so now, no one breathed a word about Michelle to Tony…Tony would not let anyone in that room make him feel guilty for kissing his wife…

As each night wore on Tony couldn't help but question his decisions. Not about saving Michelle, never about saving Michelle. He questioned why he had let himself get so close to someone again, why he had risked it…for now it was not only him that suffering because of his indiscretions…but his wife. The person he cared about more than anything...If Tony hadn't asked her out officially after the bomb, if Tony hadn't made love to her at the end of their second date - hadn't lost any form of cognizant thought the instant she touched him…if Tony hadn't asked her to marry him…she would be fine. She would not be alone tonight and he would not be in prison, alone maybe...but not in prison.

It would be miserable, he would hate himself, hate who he was without her…but Michelle would be okay, she wouldn't know any better and isn't that what all of this boiled down to? Making sure Michelle was okay?

I'll go anywhere with you…

Michelle didn't want that though…never wished for that, (though she feared he might)... She'd told him…she just missed him. Being with someone else was unimaginable to her for she only wanted him…nothing else mattered.

Tony felt a familiar prickling sensation in the corner of his own eyes and he lay in bed, knowing there was no point in trying to fall asleep any longer. The first rays of dawn had arrived and were peaking over the courtyard to the prison. Another night ended…another night without Michelle. And somehow, totally uncharacteristic for Tony, he found he could be optimistic about this. For one more night without Michelle, meant he was one night closer to seeing her again. He could do this; he could make it through this for Michelle. She was willing to stick by him for as long as it took and because of that, he could get through this for her. As long as he had something to cling to, something that made everything seem a little bit easier…

And he did have that, and it encapsulated Michelle perfectly. The circumstances under which the words had been spoken, the emotion in her voice when she'd said them. He knew Michelle meant them and because of that, they were enough to make the hardest things seem easier…They always were, and always would be, enough…

I love you so much.