Slowly, noises and colors begin to return to me. I can remember nothing- nothing at all- from the past few hours. An explosion and then-

"Michelle" I say, my voice weak and hoarse to my own ears. I see her in my mind, her face, her lifeless body in my arms, but I can not –will not- accept it. The love of my life, the one woman that I have confided in, have given part of my soul to, is not dead. It is a thought that I am incapable of thinking.

A familiar voice whispers back to me, thick with emotion. "Tony, I'm sorry." Jack doesn't say any more. He doesn't have to. He has said enough. I know now that Michelle, my beautiful wife, is dead. No words can convey the emotion that passes through me now. My love for her remains immeasurable and with her dies my lust for life, my need to continue living. I am nothing without her. I do not feel my own pain. Only the pain of losing Michelle.

"No" I manage to gasp, looking at Jack. Tears flood my eyes, and I can tell that Jack finds it difficult to break the news to me. He must know how I am feeling right now, if anyone. He, like me, sacrificed his wife for the job. For the good of the country.

I wasn't even on the job, I internally shout to myself. Nor was Michelle. We didn't want this. This was not supposed to happen. Not now, not ever…

I find my mind drifting away to last week, when Michelle confided that she was ready to have a family, ready to have children. I had been surprised at the proposal, but I was ready. I wanted to have little Dessler-Almeidas around the house. I liked kids. More than that, it would have been something special that both Michelle and I would have treasured and cared for. Our legacy. That will never happen now, I realize. Next, I notice that Jack is talking to me.

"Tony?" he says, peering at me, "Tony, are you alright?"

I just had brain surgery, Jack, and my wife is dead. What do you think?

"Fine." I manage, "I'm fine Jack."

He looks at me, clearly unconvinced. His face betrays him, as does the nervous twitching of his hands. Jack Bauer, the ultimate machine, is having trouble talking to me, his friend. Were the situation not so depressing, as it was, to me, it would have been almost comical; the way Jack was handling himself. Like a rookie.

"Tony," he says, "Do you want to be briefed?"

I look at him. No, I don't want to be briefed. I want nothing more to do with CTU or any of its counterparts. I made that decision long ago. Michelle and I made that decision. CTU is, in essence, what killed my wife. But Jack is offering me the opportunity to find out who murdered my wife…

"Yes" I decide, "Please tell me what's going on."

Jack explains to me everything that has happened in the past eight hours. The hostage situation, Walt Cummings, the man in the yellow tie, the nerve gas, the mall… everything. Finding no reason to comment, I stare at him: accepting, absorbing. Michelle's death was part of a much larger conspiracy. It is probably considered a harmless casualty after all the people at the mall. To most people. Not to me. Not to Jack.

I nod, showing to Jack that I am still paying close attention.

"Tony," he says, "You can stay here if you want. You can go home, even. But we could really use you in there. You've got experience, that nobody else has got-"

He uses the same term Michelle did, that I have experience nobody else does. Her last words. I cut him off, choosing to focus on his first statement.

"Home?" I ask, focusing on his second statement, "Home to what? To the unmade bed that Michelle and I slept in last night? To her coffee cup that's still on the kitchen counter?" To a life I will never be able to have again, I think to myself, but it remains unspoken. Jack understands. He is quiet for a moment, waiting for me to continue. I am wasting his time, I know, and there is a crisis at hand. Michelle's last wish was for us to help CTU.

"Yeah, Jack." I say finally. "I'll come. Let me get changed."

He nods, grateful to my accepting. It is difficult for me, he knows, but I will do it.

"Great, Tony." He gets up as he speaks. "Uh, Kim's here now… so I'm going to go talk to her, okay? You get dressed, and I'll meet you on the floor. Chloe will get you set up."

"Yeah" I answer. "Say hello to Kim for me."

Jack smiles. Over the past few years, I have developed a sort of surrogate-godfather relationship with Kim, and Jack understands.

"I will" he assures me.

He leaves, exiting through the door in which he came. I can not help but notice that Jack has left his gun on the table. I reach for it. I would be so easy, so easy now that I have nothing left. No life to return to. No future to look forward to. I would join Michelle… I lift the gun up to my head. I want to end it all. I want to make the pain go away.

Shaking, I drop the gun, sobs escaping involuntarily from my lips. I was unable to proceed. I am still needed on the floor. Perhaps when the threat is terminated, I will re-configure my options. Perhaps I will end my life then. In any case, I am needed on the floor. Though my soul is dead, my experience and my mind remain.

I am lost in a world that was once all too familiar to me.