saiyuki123: Thanks for the kind review. In all honesty I hadn't put much thought in a time placement, but I did come up with one. I know it's sometime before Proven Guilty and Dead Beat, and maybe before Death Masks, but somewhere after the third or fourth book. Lets just say it's a story between the books. Like I said I don't have a real time placement for this one. I'll think about it a little more though.

Harry: lengthy explanation
Me: (Sweat drop)
Michael: Wouldn't it be easier to say it's an Alternate Universe.
Me: I'll think about it.

PGNPXI: Thanks for the encouragement.

baeryl: (sing-song voice) 'I'll never tell. I'll never tell.' (Hehe) I've been up late. Thanks for the review.

Chapter 2:

When someone has been unconscious for any period of time the first thing that comes to mind normally is: What happened and what time is it? My line of questioning was slightly different. It was all summed up in one question, and it's not 'what time is it.'

Pain exploded somewhere inside dragging me out of the oblivion I had been enjoying. My head felt like some psycho had taken a butcher knife to it. A throbbing went straight through the muscle and to the bone that didn't hurt quite as much. Oh, who am I kidding everything hurt, and the first thing I wanted to know was where the pain killers were. Slowly I opened my eyes.

The room was dark. No lights were on, the curtains were closed, and I could only tell it was daylight because of the sun illuminating them from behind, and peeking under the window between where the two curtains met. As my eyes adjusted to the lack of light (for which I was grateful for) I could clearly make out boxes and clothing scraps stacked high in the spaces between crowded book shelves. I know this room, I know I do. I just can't wrap my aching head around the information. Thinking was quickly beginning to hurt.

I gave up trying to think, and let my mind drift. It's a trick I taught myself to ease headaches and ignore small pains. Let the muscles in my face and head slacken and close my eyes. Don't think, don't worry. Just relax. Sink down into the mattress at your back and burrow a little further under the covers. That last one wasn't one of my smarter ideas. Pain shot through me in an instant. So I covered the first few steps again leaving out the part about the burrowing under the covers. Soon I was asleep the pain in my back and head eased into dulled ache in the back of my mind.

When I awoke a second time I found the pain in my back had disappeared, but the trolls were still pounding away in my brain. Something had woken me up this time. I searched the room as best I could without moving my head too much. I could hear someone shuffling around the room. Out of the corner of my eye I saw him. A big man in a plaid top and blue jeans.

"Michael." My voice was raspy from disuse.

"Oh good you're awake." Michael opened the curtains in the guest room.

The sunlight hurt my eyes and I made my discomfort known.

"Aaa. Michael the curtains. Shut the curtains!"

Wide eyed Michael did as I said. The curtains quickly shut, but that didn't stop the pain lacing through my head. I gritted my teeth and covered my eyes trying to ease the pain behind them. I felt a cool hand on my arm that didn't leave until I let my arm drop back to the mattress. Beside me I could hear the scrapping of a chair against the floor.

I opened my eyes slowly and the pain ebbed away.

"Can you sit up?" asked Michael his voice calm and soothing to my ears.

I sat up, it was slow and a dull ache from my back flared to life, but it wasn't quite as bad as my head. Michael adjusted the pillows behind me to a more comfortable position. He waited till I was comfortable before handing me a cold glass of water and some pain pills. I studied the pills for a moment before popping them into my mouth and chugging down the water.

"How do you feel?" I could hear the concern in his voice as I handed the glass back.

I laughed "My head feels like its exploding; I swear I can feel my brain leaking out my ears. It feels like that time I had the Flu."

Michael smiled, "I remember that. Has any one told you what a terror you are when you're sick."

I shook my head. Big mistake, the pain intensified. "No I take that back, this is worse than that."

I had meant it as a joke to get Michael to ease up a little. He looked so serious sitting there I was beginning to wonder if I had missed something. I suspect Charity isn't happy with me being here. She doesn't like me much, and if Michael wasn't a good friend she probably would have thrown me out the moment I woke up. Assuming she would have let me stay that long.

"What happened?" I asked, my hand back to rubbing my eyes.

"That's what I'd like to know." Michael looked at his hands folded in his lap, "You fell and wouldn't get back up. When I got to you and saw your ears were bleeding and for some reason you were in a lot of pain. I honestly thought you would die for a moment."

I suppressed laughing, "You thought something like that would kill me."

"You didn't see how bad you looked."

I had nothing to say to that so we sat in comfortable silence. Well it was more like I watched as Michael worried, and I knew something was weighing on the Knights mind. We are old friends he relies on me sometimes, and in return I do the same, in due time he will tell me what weighs so heavily on him. Of course that doesn't mean I couldn't guess.

"Charity's not happy is she?" it was statement versus a question.

"She understands." was all he said.

That statement hit home. There must have been an argument over it. Which was unusual I have never heard Michael yell, but I knew something must have happened and tempers were raised? I felt bad about causing waves between them, and I mean really bad. I had to get out before I caused too much trouble.

"I'm sorry."

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Michael nod solemnly. Down the hall I heard a baby cry. The sound was muffled by the closed door, but it was an unmistakable sound.

"Someone's up." I said trying to steer the conversation away.

Michael looked at the door he was trying hard not turn on his family. I felt like a real jerk coming between them. The baby kept crying. I don't know which one it was I think there are two maybe three kids around that age. In all honesty it wouldn't surprise me if he had a fourth hidden away somewhere. The man had more kids than should be allowed under one roof. I often wonder if he kept having kids to prolong empty nest syndrome.

"It's little Harry."

"Think he's hungry?"

Michael listened to the cries for a moment trying to decide what the newest baby in the family wanted, "Nope, Diaper."

I tried my best to make a sour face, "Eww."

Michael nodded a smile beginning to tug at the corners of his mouth. Yep, that's Michael for you the only man I know who can look at his kids and forget everything that happened in a bad day.

"I'll be back in a moment."

I leaned back against the bed. "Take your time."

Michael left and I put my plan into action. He wouldn't be too long, the man could work wonders with kids. When I stood up dizziness took hold and I almost feel back onto the bed. I waited it out and moved gently to the door.

Peeking out I could see Michael's shadow coming from the baby's room, along with some hiccups and soft gurgling sounds. Michael talked to his son in a quiet tone, I couldn't hear what he said and I wasn't sticking around long enough to find out.

I tiptoed out the guest room and quietly went down the stairs. All the while I took stock of who was where. My senses were tuned on high and picked up everything in the downstairs: I could smell food cooking in the kitchen, a couple other kids in the living room watching T.V. I carefully maneuvered around trying to avoid being seen. The door was just a little ways away, if I could just make it.

Slam!

The front door opened and a couple of boys ran through. The door banged against the wall as they charged through. Good thing Michael's a carpenter. Charity left the kitchen to lecture the boys on proper ways to come into the house. I could hear the anger in her voice. I stepped through the still opened door before they realized it had been left open and went on my way back home.

I wanted to stay longer, at least until the migraines went away. The massive powers of Faith that surrounded Michael had worked to keep the pain at bay and the pain pills helped too. I wonder now if he knew that. I had never been much of a religious man, not that I don't believe in God, after all I had proof that there was something to it. It's just that I feel God gets too much trouble from me to want to deal with me. Can't say I blame him I wouldn't want a trouble maker like me hanging around in heaven all day. That's probably why I survive so much; God wants to delay the headache I'd cause when I die. That thought made me laugh. If Michael were here he'd probably scald me for thinking like that.

I made it walking to the nearest gas station with a pay phone at the intersection leading to the Carpenter house. Now if only I had correct change. I patted myself down trying to feel through the cloth into my pockets for change. To my annoyance I didn't have any change, but I did have a dollar.

My head was starting to really hurt now, and things were starting to get fuzzy around the edges. The pain relievers were starting towear off. I took the crumpled bill and had it changed. It was dark by the time I could call a taxi company to pick me up, so I waited inside. I know this is suppose to be the good part of Chicago, where the upper curst of middle class lived and thrived, but that didn't mean something nasty wasn't lying in wait in the dark. So I'm a little paranoid, but if you've seen half the stuff I'd seen you would be moving a little on the cautious side too.

At last my taxi arrived. I gave him directions to my apartment, and soon I was home.

"That'll be 35.60." He said as we pulled in front of the building.

I pulled out a wad of bills to pay the cabbie. I stared at the bills trying to remember how exactly the money system worked. A cold spike of sudden pain shot through my skull, it disappeared as quickly as it started, but still it hurt like hell.

"Hey buddy, you alright. You don't look so hot."

"So I've been told." I mumbled.

I handed the man a couple of twenties. "Keep the change."

"Hee, sure. Thanks a lot Mac."

I slid out of the cab and stumbled up to the front door. I must have really looked bad because he decided to try again.

"Hey, you sure you shouldn't go to a hospital or nothin'."

"Yes, I'm fine" I yelled back not even bothering to turn around and look at him.

Thinking was actually hurting. I pressed the heal of my hand against my eyes in a vain attempted to ease the pressure. But it didn't matter because I was finally home. After all home is where the heart is, isn't that what they say.

When I opened the door I see Mister, my thirty pound dog sized cat, bounding towards me for a quick greeting and leaving. The cat may as well have been a steamroller as he wrapped himself around my leg in hello. My already unsteady legs wobbled and collapsed, I stumbled backwards and into the wall behind me. This didn't faze Mister in the slightest. He just licked my face and went on his way. I resisted the urge to take a swing at him as he scampered off to do whatever it is that monster cat does.

I didn't bother turning the lights on when I went inside, didn't bother lighting the candles, only the fire place. Even then it was only because I was really cold. Keep in mind it takes concentration to use magic of any kind. It's not so much the words one uses as it is the image you have of what you want it to do. I regretted now, my head was pounding harder than I thought possible. I am beginning to believe that my brain really is trying to escape. I tried anyway. Soon a fire started feeding on the logs in the fireplace and in return warming the room. Now that I look back I realize how close I came to starting fire in the middle of my living room. Good thing I'm familiar with the spell.

I made my way to the kitchen cabinet in search for the pain killers I had stored there only to find that I had forgotten to pick up more at the grocery store. Maybe I should have stayed at Michael's house at least then I'd have headache relievers. In despair and disappointment I banged my head against the cabinet door. Then I did it again, and again, and again.

For those of you who have ever done this with a headache have found, as I have, that repeatedly banging ones head again a wall (or in this case a cabinet) will notice that this does not actually hurt, but rather eases the pain considerably. Assuming you don't stop of course, then you begin to regret it. I probably would have kept going until I busted my skull wide open or once again entered the sweet oblivion of unconsciousness, if it weren't for the blasted ringing making it worse.

Slowly I began to realize that it was my phone ringing. Finding my way through the living room I found the phone.

I stared at it stupidly for a couple of seconds. 'Huh, and here I thought it was all in my head.' These were my thoughts before I decided that the phone ringing and my head ringing was really getting to me. I decided to be nice and instead of ripping the phone from the wall I picked it up with plans to tell off the one calling me.

"What is it?" I growled at whoever was on the other end.

"Harry." It was Michael, "Thank God I found you."

"Michael.." I growled again. I don't know why I did, I just felt like it.

"Harry are you alright?" Worry in Michael's voice increased

I sighed 'Well he's only looking out for me.' "Everything's fine Michael. I just came home."

"Are you sure? You still don't look well maybe you should come back."

"No, Michael I'll be fine here."

"Harry if this is about Charity…" He whispered into the phone now

"It's not about Charity." My headache was increasing, I was beginning to feel sick, and being annoyed was only making it worse. A groan of pain escaped my lips before I could do anything to stop it.

"Harry, are you sure you're alright?"

I tried to keep any sign of pain from my voice, "Hells Bells Michael, I'm telling you I'm fine!" I slammed the phone down.

This was too much, something was really wrong, I don't know what, but the pain was too much to be a normal anything. My head wanted to explode. I needed to release the pressure from what ever was causing it. Beneath my apartment is a basement, (well more like a cellar beneath my basement apartment.) In the basement I had a decent sized lab filled with all sorts of doodads and concoctions, and a talking skull named Bob. I was bound to have something that would work.

I found my way to the hidden door leading to the basement and went down. I knew this room like the back of my hand, under normal circumstances I could navigate through here blindfolded. These were not normal circumstances. I stumbled over a trashcan and banged my knee into one of the long tables where I worked.

"Harry what's going on? You interrupted my sleep." Came a disembodied voice.

Two flame-like eyes appeared inside the human skull sitting one of the four large bookshelves lining the wall.

I tried to ignore it. I couldn't deal with Bob's acting like an all knowing s.o.b. Well okay, he's close to all knowing he had been around long enough to earn that title, but right now I didn't want to be bothered.

"Harry are you alright? You look like your sick."

"I'm fine Bob." I snarled in the skulls direction as I rummaged through various drawers searching for ingredients for a pain relieving potion I had made time and time again. It was a potion I knew by heart.

"You don't look fine to me."

This time I banged my hip against the corner of a second table. For those who have done this you know how sharp the pain can be, for those who haven't, Lucky you. This is when my stomach decided it had had enough. I reached the garbage bin in the nick of time to loose everything and then some. Fortunately it wasn't much, unfortunately my stomach still wanted to expel something, so it settled for a little yellowish stomach acid. After what seemed like forever my stomach decided it was done.

"Feel better?" asked Bob

"Actually I do a little." This wasn't a lie; I did feel somewhat better than a few moments ago. My headache wasn't as bad and my stomach, though still tender, was a little better. It would be wise to make the potion now while I could see properly.

"Lets see now. Where did put that… Oh there it is." I picked up a beaker of a murky white liquid and began pouring other liquids into the glass.

Bob choose this moment to speak up from the sidelines. "Um…Harry should you mixing those together like that?"

I ignored him. I had to hurry my headache was coming back and from the feel of things it was returning with a vengeance. I could see my motions becoming more vigorous, and rushed. Fortunately this potion requires little in way of magic and concentration. It was a lot like mixing Pepto-Bismol, Aspirin, Excedrin, and a couple other things. A few sleep aids here, some melting bakers chocolate for smoothness and sweet flavor. That last one had to be added with care, too much could cancel out the affects of the others and make a rotten concoction that tasted a lot like sour chocolate milk.

"Uh, Harry. You really should be paying more attention to what you're pouring in there." Bob's was growing more nervous.

Still I didn't listen, like I said it was returning with a vengeance and the pain was gaining ground. I could feel it in my bones. All I had to do was worm up the potion, that won't take long. I set it on the fire and watched for smoke to boil over the top. When it did I quickly removed the beaker and tried to gulp it down. It burned my throat I could feel it, but hopefully when the potion took affect it would drown out that pain as well.

Assuming it worked of course. Too bad, I should have listened to Bob.

When the steamy liquid hit my stomach the pain became too much. I couldn't begin to describe what it felt like. I dropped the potion; the glass shattered on impact and the liquid inside was lost. Smoke flew up and the pain became too much for me to handle. I screamed in agony.

The trapdoor flew open releasing the air and smoke trapped inside. I briefly remember seeing a white light before I passed out from the pain.

A/N: Well, what do you think?

(Cricket chirps in audience)

Oookay. Sorry about the wait. I just couldn't get things to flow right in some spots. But hopefully they're fixed now.

Review me Pwease. (Puppy-dog eyes.)