"Hey, Elle. Wake up." Tony's voice broke into the darkness and I was suddenly jolted back into the real world.

My eyes opened and I saw my dark, mysterious Tony looking down at me, his eyes full of vulnerability and concern. He looked so worried and scared, which scared me. Tony was supposed to be strong and confident.

"Hey," I whispered, smiling faintly up at him. "I'm glad you're back. I was dreaming about you."

Tony smiled and then bit his bottom lip, an adorable habit he had. "What'd you dream about me?" he wanted to know.

"I was dreaming about the day you told me you loved me and how you made me burn the toast." We both laughed a little, but the motion hurt my arm and I gasped mid-chuckle.

"Take it easy," Tony advised me. "We don't have anything for the pain. Sorry."

I shook my head. "It's cool. I just need to be still, I think. Do you have any water? I'm really thirsty."

Tony got me a bottle of water and, after helping me sit up, he handed it to me. "We are going to leave soon to get Henry Taylor back. You can stay here, or you can come along for the ride."

I shook my head, holding his hand tightly in mine. "I don't ever want to be separated from you. Never again."

He smiled again and I felt my eyes filling with tears for some odd reason. Suddenly, I threw my arm around his neck and buried my face on his shoulder.

In ten minutes, we were all in the back of the van, driving towards the apartment where Dubaku had held me hostage. Hopefully, Henry Taylor was still there. I highly doubted it, however. If he was, though, Jack and Tony would get him out.

As we rode, I leaned my head against Tony's shoulder wearily. Although everything that had happened since he came back into my life just a few short hours ago had been stressful and somewhat painful, I was glad he was back. He was mine. Tony was mine.

"What exactly are we going to do?" I asked.

"We're going to get Mr. Taylor back," Agent Walker replied, leaning her head back against the van.

"Yes, but I meant do we have a plan about how we're going to that?" I pressed. Plans were a part of my life. I liked to know what the plan was at all times.

"I'm not sure. Jack knows," she told me, wincing and touching the bandage on her neck.

"Are you okay?" I wanted to know, concerned. She looked somewhat pale. Of course, I probably didn't look like a million bucks either.

Jack, in the front seat with Mr. Buchanan, looked back sharply. "Renee? Are you feeling okay?"

"Yeah, I'm good. My neck is just sore and I've got a headache. I'll be fine," she assured him, looking at him intently. Then, she looked at me. "Jack shot me earlier today."

"After everything else that's happened today, I can't say I'm surprised!" I remarked dryly.

As I felt Tony's strong arm around my shoulders, holding me tight against his warm body, my mind drifted back to another memory I had of him—of us…together.

FLASHBACK:

I opened my apartment door one night, having just come back from a study group meeting at the campus library. After locking the door behind me, I dropped my bag in one of the kitchen chairs and then walked into the kitchen to grab a drink from the fridge.

The apartment was so quiet that I decided to turn the TV on for noise. When I walked into the living room, a terrifying sight met my eyes. Tony was lying on the floor, unconscious, and covered in blood.

"Tony!" I screamed, dropping my drink. The dark brown liquid gushed out onto the carpet, but I didn't care. "Baby?" I gasped, kneeling by his side and feeling his wrist for a pulse.

It was there, and strong, but the blood had come from somewhere. "Tony," I sobbed. "Please wake up!"

He groaned and his eyelids fluttered open. "What the hell?" he mumbled.

"Tony, what happened?" I demanded to know, so relieved at seeing him awake that I could barely contain my joy.

"I…got into a fight. I didn't know where else to go."

I nodded. "Are you hurt?" I knew he was lying to me. His knuckles weren't busted and I could plainly see the gun underneath his jacket.

"Yeah, but not bad. A bull—I got cut with a knife. I need to clean the wound."

"Let's get to the bathroom," I suggested.

I cleaned the wound according to Tony's precise directions. I wasn't so blonde that I couldn't see that it was a gunshot wound. My guess was that the bullet had grazed his side, but I was only judging by what I'd learned watching CSI reruns. Somehow, I instinctively knew that he was lying to me, but I wasn't sure why.

I turned to put away the First Aid kit, but Tony caught my arm gently. "Elle," he said hesitantly. " I wish I could tell you everything, but I can't. It's for your own good. I'm trying to protect you."

I nodded. " You promise that you'd tell me if you could? Truly?'

"I swear." He stared directly into my eyes and I could see that he was being honest with me.

"I love you," I whispered, pressing my forehead against his.

"I love you, too." He pulled me close and kissed my lips lightly.

END FLASHBACK

Please give me some good ideas on how to kill off Henry Taylor. Also, heads up—the next episode may not be so much about Elle and Tony.