Chapter XIV

Sasha opened her tired eyes. Dawning her environment. She had to move. Anything to get out of the bed she was bound to for weeks now. Her body was extremely sore. It mattered not to Sasha if she had been aching. She felt herself going crazy. She needed to move. Rehabilitation wasn't enough to motivate her along her journey to recovery.

Sasha yearned for independency. Simplicity fell upon her complex mind. Knowing well all she wanted was a decent shower. The ultimate form of relaxation. Anything to get out of her insanity breaking. Stumbling out of bed, Sasha desperately crawled out of bed with excruciating pain. Tears swelled in her eyes. Rolling onto the ground, Sasha adjusted herself into an army crawl. Knowing that her Master Bathroom had been just behind the door.

Climbing into her bathtub, Sasha turned on her shower's faucet enduring the ice cold electric shocks until welcoming warmth engrossed her physically body. She continued to shiver until both her body and environment had become comfortable temperature. With no strength to spare, Sasha's mind and body had melted, leaning the farthest back as space permitted.

Droplets of water had soaked Sasha's hair and skin. All of it becoming a welcoming relief. Even if it had been a small action of independence and scenery. With all her disappointments, Sasha had knew being home was show of progress. No more blood transfusions, oxygen masks or bed sores from laying in that damn hospital bed.

Everything had varied within her range of time. The doctors assured that she would make a full recovery. That her strength would return. On the surface it all seemed like a small incontinence. On the flip side, Sasha was doped up on several medications. Aiding in her healing process. The events of the Vercetti Dinner Party now long gone. She felt like a burden if not entirely useless to herself and her benefactor: Michael.

Curling herself into a ball, Sasha had reflected upon her actions. The seconds that could have cost her life while Tommy had been caught in the line of fire. He had a bullet-proof vest unknown to her prior knowledge. All that she could process when gunshots broke out was to protect her family. Was to protect her Grandfather. The terror behind his often cold and distant eyes meeting with hers haunted Sasha's nightmares. Something she just couldn't allow herself to sake.

What if Tommy had been in her position? There was no doubt that he would have sacrificed himself in a similar matter if it meant protecting his family.

Traumatic images flashed through Sasha's mind and eyes as she closed them tight. She could still hear the screams of their party guests. She could still hear Tommy calling out her name. Everything blurred together. White flashes of images consumed her. Sasha could still feel Michael cradling her in his arms. Instructing her to keep breathing. To keep fighting. The finalization of those minutes until she awoke in Paleto Bay's Care Center.

Feeling sick and nauseated, Sasha wrapped her right arm around her body. Through her fingertips she could feel the burning wounds of the now faint gunshots. Guilt had entered her thought process in waves. What of John Marston's Legacy? The very heirlooms Lance entrusted her with were now gone. Anger boiled through her blood. She bore complete responsibility. Aldrick was to pay. She wanted his head.

"Sasha!" The call of Michael's voice echoed from her Master Bedroom. Her eyes shot open, grounding her back into reality. "Fuck!" His voice first being distant. "Don't you dare tell me that-" Entering the Master Bathroom, his then panicked body language relaxed just enough to change his personality.

Having heard the running shower, Michael's head dropped. His hands still leaning into the door open door. Sasha reciprocated his stress, giving a weak attempt at a genuine smile. "Still here, Michael."

"Don't... scare me like that." Michael responded, kneeling next to her on the floor near the bathtub. "How are you feeling? Are you doing okay?" He asked softly, keeping his voice to a whisper while moving a wet strand of hair out of Sasha's face.

There been a long drawn sigh from Sasha. "Yeah. I'm... I'm just tired."

That lie didn't phase Michael. "Like I haven't heard that from you before, sweetheart." He kissed her forehead, leading into her face. "By now that just sounds like an excuse at this point."

Sasha reached for Michael's right hand, guiding him to her chest wound. Rubbing his fingers across her bare skin. It was the very gunshot wound that would have taken her life if Michael wasn't quick on his feet. "I owe you more than my very life to you, Mr. DeSanta." His face showing visible torment. Bearing the same memories of that fateful night. "Where would I be without you?" Michael swallowed the lump in the back of his throat. Knowing they had been echoes of exact words.

Leaning into his face, Sasha locked her lips with Michael. Giving him a long overdue kiss. There had been a small, satisfied moan from her. "So that's what Michael DeSanta tastes like." Sasha whispered, nuzzling his face and desiring more. Michael permitted this, having then restrained himself from forcing himself on her. Several delayed kisses were shared between them.

All of which were abruptly ended. Sasha had wrenched in great pain. Her sides reminding her that she had still been covered in a few stitches. "What? What's wrong? Did I hurt you?" Michael questioned with Sasha doing her best not to scream.

Tears in her eyes, Sasha denied Michael's worry. "No! NO! It's not your fault!"

Michael had cradled Sasha's head in his left hand, reaching for the shower's faucet to turn it off. "If you don't take better care of yourself. You could reopen your stitches. Better yet-"

"Wait. Don't." Sasha begged. "It's been enough I've been bed-ridden. Just for a little while longer. Please."

"Sash-"

Sasha's left hand had gripped on Michael's collar opposite to her. His sleeve now semi-drenched. "Just awhile longer."

Michael held his breath in anticipation, having then loudly taking her consideration. "Okay. Fine. Whatever."

Dropping his arms, Michael rose to his feet to slip off his jacket suit and stripped off his shirt from having it become further soaked. Getting them to dry. He had then slumped back down next to Sasha, who had leaned on the edge of the bathtub, leaning into her arms.

"Thank you, Michael." Sasha responded, smiling the best she could. "I appreciate it."

Michael scoffed at Sasha's request, bobbing his head to the left. "You're not always going to get your way you know, Mrs. Vercetti." He spoke with a slight of sarcasm.

Sasha lifted her head, caressing Michael's cheek and butterfly kissing his nose. Her left hand grabbing his right, massaging his knuckles. "I was still serious about my last statement. All things considered. I would have died if it wasn't for you. You saved me. I feel... Well I know I'm completely dedicated to you by now."

"Amuse me here for just a moment, darling. In all agreed terms of the given universe. That makes us even." Michael felt like he drank poison resonating with those words. "Once Aldrick is finished. I can't say where anything will lead after that..."

"There would be no point wondering about the "what ifs", Michael. You already gained an all access pass to the Vercetti Family. Especially after the night of the party. You're already in Tommy's favor. What else more could you ask for?"

"I suppose having a get out of jail free card from your family isn't too bad." Michael commented. Appearing less than satisfied with such a desired result. "Even if Tommy is a little up-tight... I wouldn't mind working for him."

Thoughts and ramblings occupied him. All of them had stopped the moment Michael no longer felt Sasha's soft touch. She no longer had eye contact with him. Collapsing into what had been the last of her physical strength. Her time was up. Raising to his feet, Michael had turned off the shower head.

Grabbing the nearest dry towel, he wrapped Sasha's body. Lifting her out of the bathtub, she had buried herself into him. Becoming reliant upon Michael's strength. "I feel very shallow depending on you. Every moment I grow weaker."

"Sasha. Enough. You've become too harsh on yourself."

"I don't deserve you. I never deserved you."

Michael knew better than to bite into Sasha's self loathing. Draping her right arm around his neck and lifting her into his arms. Departing her Master Bathroom and entering her bedroom, Michael had placed Sasha on her bed. Returning to grab another towel, he had briskly dried her wet hair.

Grasping for the towel in her hair. Sasha gave a small gesture of gratitude. "Thanks."

Searching her wardrobe, Michael acquired some soft pajamas. She had assisted into the sleeves and bottoms. There had been little else Michael reflected upon. Tucking her legs under the comforter, Sasha had settled into her bed. Burying her head into the pillow.

Kissing Sasha's forehead, Michael stalled himself for a moment. "You should get some rest, Sash. Tomorrow is another day."

"Michael. Please wait. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to... Forgive me. I need you. Please don't leave." Phrase after phrase her exhausted voice repeated. Hoping to sway his mind.

"Sasha..." Michael spoke, hearing his voice trail.

Michael's heart had throbbed. Knowing subconsciously he couldn't deny Sasha's siren call. Memories of Sasha's blood staining his hands had burned into the back of his mind. He knew well that Sasha could have been lost. Still knowing his obligations, Michael had slipped off his shoes, settling himself next to her under the blankets.

Throwing away any and all advice Tommy gave to Michael, he took Sasha into his own arms, having her lay comfortably into his chest. Stroking her hair, he relaxed. Michael had taken full residence with Sasha. Caressing her. "I promised I would protect you. So that's what I will continue to promise. To protect you by all means. I shall not leave your side until I know your strength has returned to you." He had distinctly vowed, waiting until Sasha herself had fallen sleep before he peacefully joined her.