It was well after midnight by the time Jack and the FBI cleaned up and reassigned new agents to the house. Once everything was set, she and Tony got into bed, facing away from each other. They'd barely interacted over the last few hours. What was there to say?

"By the way…" Michelle said, her voice hoarse. "Did Jack tell you where he moved your painkillers?"

"Yeah."

While Michelle hoped she wouldn't be tempted to use them again, it helped to know that even if she wanted to, she would have to search hard enough for them that by the time she found them, she probably would have talked herself out of it.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked quietly. "That you were using? I…I would have hidden my medication earlier if I'd known."

"Because I didn't want to worry you, and I didn't think it would be a problem." She shrugged. "I would never let my weakness interfere with taking care of you."

"Michelle, it's not a weakness-" He said gently, but she was already at her limit.

"N-Not now. Please. I can't do this now."

"Okay…" He said, barely above a whisper, letting them both sleep.

The next few days practically went by in silence. There was an unbearable tension between them. They needed to talk about it, but it seemed neither knew how to make the first move, how to approach it. Michelle felt like if she started talking, she wouldn't stop and that the pain from all those years without him would override his valid fear and insecurities. She didn't want to make this about her. At the same time, how was it not about her? Her actions had scared him. They needed to talk about it. But she didn't regret what she did. If God forbid, something like that happened again, she wouldn't hold back. In fact, she wasn't sure if she could in such a situation. Her desire to protect him was so deep it overrode every sane instinct she had.

And she had the feeling that that was the precise thing that was scaring Tony. Not just seeing her do it once, but knowing that he might have to see her do something like that again.

He woke up in the middle of the third night, panting and drenched in sweat. She was already awake, having heard him toss and turn fretfully. Without even thinking, she reached out to touch his arm, but he pulled away, sitting up and placing his feet on the side of the floor with his back to her. It upset her, but it at least meant he couldn't see that she was on the verge of tears.

"Another bad dream?" She asked for the sake of conversation, feeling like the least she could do was talk to him.

Tony didn't respond, and Michelle noticed he was gripping the sheets beneath his fingers tightly. He didn't turn around to look at her, his shoulders were hunched, and she knew not to touch him again. It had been a while since he had reacted this viscerally. Every nightmare was different. Each one presented its own reactions, sometimes anger, sometimes a desperate need to feel safe, sometimes shame, sometimes a need for space. But through each and every one, he would try his hardest to communicate what he needed, and she would ask him questions to try and understand. Tony had never iced her out like this before. Sometimes he was a little dissociated for a moment. But he had never consciously ignored her like this except the time when he had hurt her in his sleep and woken up.

"What was it, Tony? T-Talk to me. Please."

Again, he didn't answer her question, which worried her further. Usually, the nightmare was a twisted version of a memory from when he was held captive. From both his explanations and the FBI, she had come to learn the names and faces of a few, what each one had tended to do to him. Sometimes it was the night he was beaten up and drugged at the prison, the night that had started everything. But whatever it was, Tony usually told her, and she used that to help reassure him that whoever had been hurting him in his dreams was either dead or incarcerated.

So why wasn't he talking to her this time?

It then dawned on her that his silence could only mean that whoever had hurt him in his dream was someone she couldn't reassure him about.

"I-It was me, wasn't it?" She asked in a small voice. "You dreamt that I hurt you the way Wilson's people did."

He sniffled and tipped his head forward in acknowledgement slightly. There was nothing more she wanted to do than hug him and tell him a thousand times over that she would sooner die than hurt him on purpose. But she resisted that urge because she knew that that wasn't what he needed right now. It was a sign that they couldn't put off talking about the other night, which she knew was a conversation that would inevitably lead to her explaining what exactly she'd done in the eight years they'd spent apart. Right now though, they couldn't have that conversation. Right now, she needed to respect what he wanted. And she would do just that.

Michelle got up, fighting back her tears and trying to sound understanding.

"I'll…I'll go sleep on the couch, okay?"

Judging by the fact that he made no move to stop her, she knew it was what he wanted, even if he couldn't bear to utter it aloud. She unfolded the sofa bed with shaking hands, hating the thought of him being alone when he was like this. But when she got under the blanket, curling into a ball, she realised just how much she hated it too. It had been a long time since she'd slept alone, and while they were in the same house, while if she concentrated enough, she could hear him breathing in the other room, she still felt lonely. Michelle placed a hand over her mouth to stifle her cries, hoping that he wouldn't hear them, hoping that he wouldn't think he was wrong to feel the way he was.

Because the fact was, she didn't blame him at all.

She eventually fell asleep, waking to the sound and smell of him cooking breakfast sometime mid-morning. Before she could even decide whether to say anything, he walked over to where she was sitting, passing her a plate of pancakes. She looked at him, trying to gauge his expression, and noticed he looked quite tired. But despite everything he had been kind enough to make her breakfast, so hopefully, he was at least feeling somewhat better. Michelle realised she must have been staring at him for quite some time because he just chuckled.

"What?"

"I don't know." She said flatly. "I'm the one who caused all of this, but you're the one making me breakfast in bed."

The corners of his lips upturned slightly.

"Did you sleep okay?"

She lifted a shoulder, astounded that he was bothering to ask about her when he had no need to. "Not really. I was too busy worrying about you."

Ever since the attack on their house, Michelle had felt an intense need to give Tony more details than usual. Not that she generally made a habit of keeping things from him, but the fact was, everything she had done in the time when he was gone was a huge secret. So the least she could do was be open and honest about the other things where possible.

"I'm okay, Michelle. It was a dream." Tony said unconvincingly.

"Can we talk about it?"

He shook his head, leaving silence between them. She decided not to push it now if he didn't want to. But she would find a time to bring it up later because it wouldn't be good for either of them if they continued to ignore it.

"You…you've been so good to me," Tony said suddenly, his voice reverent. "You've been so patient. So kind. You've made me feel safe and given me so much hope despite everything that's happened to me." He found her hand with his and squeezed it. "I don't think there's anybody else I love and trust in this world more than you. And even though what happened the other day was…a lot, i-it doesn't change that. I just…I need you to know that."

"I love you too. All I want for you is to be safe. That's the only thing I care about."

His lips met hers softly, and she swiped at a tear on his cheek.

"I might…I might see if my therapist has any free sessions today."

She nodded. "That sounds like a good idea."

He kissed her forehead before getting up to grab his phone. Judging by how he sounded and the relieved look on his face, it seemed as though he could book himself an appointment. Michelle spent the rest of the day on the phone with Renee, who gave her updates and information about the investigation. As she had believed, Lyons had been working alone. Jack had personally interrogated him, and there hadn't been any indication of the attack being part of a bigger plan. When Tony returned, they distracted themselves with errands and chores until they decided to order pizza for dinner. The air had cleared a little between them but things still felt uneasy.

Michelle got ready for bed early that night, finding she was far too tired to think clearly about how she wanted to approach the conversation anymore. He did similarly and went back into the bedroom. She assumed that his stance was unchanged and settled into the sofa bed again. However, a couple of hours later, to her surprise, but not her displeasure, she felt Tony slide in next to her.

"I can't sleep without you anymore." He mumbled into her ear.

She pulled him closer and let this moment of comfort between them give her hope that they would get through this.