Michelle heard him mumble in his sleep again and did what she usually did, quietly hush him and stroke his arm. But the mumbles grew louder, more aggressive. Again she tried to reassure him, tried to tell him that it was just a dream, that he was okay, that he wasn't there, but to no avail. Suddenly, in one swift motion, he sat up, grunting, and used one of his hands to push her down by the throat. Michelle spluttered, trying to push him away, trying to say his name, trying to wake him up.

"I told you I don't fucking know!" He roared, eyes opening.

The angry scowl on his face quickly faded when he found himself staring not at the people from his dream but, rather, at his terrified wife gasping for air. She used the relaxing of his grip as an opportunity to move his body weight off of her, still coughing a little. Tony panted nervously, horrifically realising what had just happened.

"It's fine." She took in another breath, trying to harden her voice. "You didn't hurt me. I know you didn't mean to. It's okay."

There was a red mark in the shape of a hand on her neck, and he started to feel sick.

He shook his head, looking incredibly pale as he ran to their ensuite, shutting the door behind him and locking it. Michelle followed him, knocking and calling out. She heard him vomit, heard him breathe shakily, heard him curse at himself.

"Tony, it's okay."

"No, it's not."

His mind continued to race. The image of the red mark still burned in his mind. He started to freak out and wonder whether this had happened before. She seemed far too prepared, almost used to it. Was she keeping it from him? Because she felt sorry for him, she was letting him hurt her?

"How many times has this happened before?"

She squeezed her eyes shut. "I…"

"Michelle." He said firmly.

She couldn't lie to him. "A….a couple of times. But you didn't wake up, and I got you to stop; it's not a big deal."

His eyes widened, voice even more worried. "Not a big deal? Michelle, I'm hurting you. That's not okay!"

"You didn't even know you were doing it. I know you would never hurt me, Tony-"

"Stop it! Stop treating me like-"

"Like what? Like you need help? Like you need someone to take care of you? I'm not doing this out of pity, I'm doing this because I love you, for God's sake." Her voice cracked. "Why can't you believe that? Why won't you just let me be here for you?"

"Because I don't deserve it!"

She felt a pang in her chest. Was that really how Tony still saw it? That it was all for pity, that he wasn't supposed to have survived, that he was supposed to have done the 'honourable' thing and ended his life before they could get his information out of him?

"You do," Michelle said, voice cracking a little. She slowly swung her head from side to side as tears slid down her face.

He opened up, and she went to reassure him again, but he simply brushed past her, ignoring every call of his name, and walked out of their bedroom towards the front of the house. Tony flung the door open, pushing past the FBI agents, and she felt frozen in place. A few seconds later, she heard the engine of a car start. Part of her wanted to chase after him, part of her wanted to hold him, wanted, no needed, to sit there and tell him exactly how she felt and that she would never think less of him for needing her. Michelle went to grab the phone but stopped herself. She didn't want to talk to him without seeing him. For now, she would give him space. As she sunk to the floor, she felt a clutch in her chest when she thought about the fact that he was probably crying too.

The more time passed, the more she started to spiral about where he could have gone and what could have happened. She terrified herself with thoughts of him getting into an accident or worse, getting himself into a perfect target zone for Wilson's people. She also had to admit that somewhere in her mind, she was also worrying about him going far enough to set off the alert in the tracking chip and scaring him even more with the reality of their situation. One of the FBI agents asked her if they should start sending out people looking for him, but she knew that would likely make him feel worse. At some point, she couldn't take it anymore, so she picked up her phone and called Jack, hoping maybe he'd gone to his house to talk.

He picked up before the second ring could even finish.

"P-Please tell me he's with you." She asked worriedly.

"Yeah…" He replied, hearing her sigh through the phone. "Tony's here, Michelle."

"Is he okay?"

Jack looked over to where Tony was sitting on his couch, looking down into his lap with clasped hands. He'd knocked on his door saying he needed to talk, and Jack had let him in. Tony had told him about what had happened, and he'd tried his best to comfort him. But he knew that what Tony needed most of all was Michelle's reassurance, which, of course, he knew she was giving, but Tony needed to be receptive to it.

"He's fine. He just…wanted to talk."

Michelle could understand that. She was just grateful that Tony had decided to talk to someone about it instead of doing something he might regret.

"I-I'll be there soon if that's okay. If you're still talking to him, I can wait."

"No, no, it's fine. Come down."

As Jack hung up, he turned to face Tony again.

"You scared the shit out of her." He said plainly.

Tony sighed, shaking his head.

Jack had somewhat been anticipating this, knowing that Tony hadn't been settling in very well to being home. Michelle had done all she could to try and ease Tony's worries, even at her own expense, but he knew the truth now.

Michelle stood on her toes to move the box on top of the cupboard. Her shirt lifted slightly, and Jack noticed a large bruise on her waist. She quickly pulled the fabric back down over it as though wanting to make sure he couldn't see it. But it was too late. He grabbed her hand, moving the shirt back up and further to show the expanse of purple skin.

"I fell." She said, without making eye contact.

He moved to face her, pushing her back against the wall. "Did he do this to you?"

"Y-Yes, but you don't understand-"

Jack shook his head, hardening his voice and forcing her to look at him. "Michelle, I know Tony's been through hell, but that does not give him the excuse to-"

She hushed him. "He didn't know."

"What?" He said, furrowing his brow.

Michelle sighed. "He was asleep. He had a nightmare, and he hit me while he was moving around. But I didn't wake him, because he's barely slept in days, and it would break his heart.' She sniffled, sounding incredibly upset. "So he doesn't know, and I'd like to keep it that way. I'm already worried he's hiding how he feels and what he needs, I don't need to make it worse."

"Okay…" Jack let out a breath. "Okay. But please promise me that if he does — and I'm not saying that he would — but if he does hurt you intentionally, you'll tell me."

She was horrified by the mere thought but understood his concern. "I promise."

Within a few minutes, Michelle arrived at his front door, knocking quietly. Jack moved aside as he opened up, and in two short steps, she crossed the room, hugging Tony tightly where he stood. When she pulled back, she saw that his eyes were bloodshot, as expected. There was so much shame, so much sorrow coming from him.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled into her shoulder.

"Let's just go home, okay?" She whispered.

Tony nodded.

Thanking Jack once again, they did as she said, driving their own cars back into their garage. Silently, they walked back into their bedroom. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking away from her. She sat cross-legged in front of him.

"Can you please look at me, sweetheart?" She beseeched gently.

"I-I told myself I would never be like this. I never wanted to be one of those guys that uses what they've been through as an excuse to treat their wives like shit. I can't be that Michelle, I can't do that to you-"

"Sweetheart, that's not what this is," Michelle said softly, thumbing at his cheek. "The fact that you're so upset about it is proof that you're not like that. You'll never be like that, okay? I promise."

Tony trapped her hand against his cheek, sighing as he leaned into it.

"Look at me." She said, taking his other cheek in her hand. He didn't budge. Gently, she pivoted his face. "Look at me." She repeated until his eyes eventually met hers."I love you with all of my heart, no matter what." The words came out slowly, intentionally.

He said nothing for a while and still tried to keep his head turned away from her. "You shouldn't have to keep doing this. You deserve better than this. Not some pathetic husband who's too much of a coward to talk to you, who you have to take care of all the time, who you're worried sick about twenty-four seven."

She let out a breath, trying not to let her frustration show. She hated the way he beat himself up like this. She understood why, but it just hurt her so much to hear him talk about himself like that.

"If it were the other way around…would you think I was weak? Would you let me say those things about myself? You wouldn't, would you?"

His shoulders lifted slightly.

"So stop."

"It's…different."

"Why?"

Michelle watched his jaw twitch, watched him try to articulate himself. "It just is. You didn't sign up for this. It's not fair."

"Do you honestly think I see it that way?"

He said nothing.

Slowly, she moved her hand to the top of his head, running her fingers through his hair until she reached the back of his neck. "Because I'll tell you what I see. I see a man who's been through far too much pain and suffering, more than any one person should ever have to go through, and for reasons I can't fully understand, he's hurting himself more, he's punishing himself for something that wasn't his fault."

She felt tears well in her eyes and blinked them away.

"I see a man who's trying so hard every single day to heal, to move on, and he thinks I don't see it, but I do, honest to God, I do. But more than anything," Michelle took a shuddering breath, tilting his head up, so he couldn't keep looking away from her. "I see the man I love, the man I married, and I can see that he's hurt, and all I want to do is take care of him like I promised I would. And I want him to understand that there is no deadline on that, that he can take as long as he needs to heal, and that I will never love him any less because of it."

He looked at her for what felt like forever before his lips met hers softly. She helped him take off his sweater, revealing his bare, scarred chest and back. Kneeling on the bed, she met his eyes in the mirror. He sighed as she kissed his neck, splaying her hands across his stomach. Michelle took the time to kiss the marks, both new and old, on his shoulders and the middle of his back, making her movements distinct. She moved to his front, continuing to press her lips to each scar, sucking softly and tracing the longer ones with her tongue.

He was already on the verge of tears again, shaking his head. Tony pulled her up towards him and buried his face in the crook of her neck, breathing unsteadily. She sniffled, letting him lean against her, telling him again and again that it was okay, that she loved him, that she could never leave him, that she wasn't scared of him, that she loved him.

Michelle just prayed that he would believe her.