![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
July 16 - Evening
May. 20th, 2007 07:11 pmIt hurts to see Chris so distraught. So hopeless.
So much like me
After the brief meeting, she's stopped by Nadia, who asks if she's noticed anyone using an exorbitant amount of system resources.
Michelle lies and says no, but when she gets back to her workstation she gives a silent apology and shuts down the search.
With Chris away at Division and everyone focusing on the possibility of more nukes out there, and intel points to at least one more, Michelle again wonders if they missed something with the Palmer assassination. Jack was set up and the only conclusion he reached was that there was no link. Their attention's been elsewhere, but Michelle has a hard time accepting that it was a separate attack and not connected to the series of bombings or the nuclear bomb that went off in Valencia.
Or what happened in China
Even Jack seems too willing to accept this conclusion. Although he's also been reluctant to investigate his abduction for reasons she understands but does not support.
And in the back of her mind is the thought that whoever's responsible for China is also responsible for Tony's death.
Making a decision, Michelle waits until everyone's engrossed in their work and closes the list of suspects she's been researching and double checking. She opens the link to the W drive and after a few moments of searching she finds the archive of Palmer's files.
Some items, mostly related to images and physical evidence had been accessed recently. The files on his computer, however, had been quickly searched and discarded. It's a complete shot in the dark, but Michelle's more than familiar with encryption and security. Tony once told her about how the best way to hide important information was in a plain sight. "They look right over the information that doesn't belong," he'd smiled, "now that doesn't mean you should start going through my files." She'd teasingly went for his computer and he'd grabbed her from behind and she'd laughed and then relaxed against his chest -- she mentally shakes herself, before opening up Palmer's documents. She still feels Tony's arms around her and she tries to will him away from her consciousness. She knows it's a losing battle, but usually she doesn't imagine he's with her. At least not anymore.
She starts opening up documents, going carefully through each page, but finding nothing. She is starting to wonder if there's anything to find, if maybe she's invented connections that don't exist, when she opens the latest draft of Palmer's press conference notes. The file's encrypted, which is unusual, but these are private thoughts. She opens up CTU's decryption program and a few commands later is granted access to the file.
After going through so many of his speeches, she's struck all over again by how much they lost a few days ago, and how deeply she admired him.
No, no time for sorrow, stop it, Michelle.
While scanning one of his later points, she sees a string of letters and numbers that doesn't seem to connect to anything around them. Her heart beats a little quicker as she re-reads to make sure she's right. "NDP-48102004D" she mouths, the code having no meaning to her. But it's an obvious code. And a possible link.
She runs it through a database of every known acronym or abbreviation but nothing makes sense.This was important and it had to mean something.
She has to tell someone, but needs to be careful. She spots Jack making his way to the situation room. "Jack!" she calls out, trying to get his attention.
An Interlude
Mar. 10th, 2007 12:55 amMichelle had to get out of the house before she went stir crazy. Standing in a maternity shop with her mom, she's noticing the changes that the last few days have brought about - the saleswoman is skittish, watching the other customers and the street outside.
"What about this one?"
"Mom, I'm not a beach ball yet. I don't think I need anything for a few weeks, at least."
Linda gives a long suffering sigh and puts the pants back on the rack. "We don't know what the future holds. Have you heard anything?"
Only a few pedestrians pass by the window.
"There's nothing to hear," she says, focusing on an exceptionally ugly shirt.
"Chelle -- " And she knows that's the beginning of another conversation she doesn't want to have.
In the distance, Michelle hears the low rumble of a bus.
Everything happens in an instant.
She's picking up another blouse.
Muffled staccato shout.
Man running past them, his coat close to his body.
A police officer yelling at him to stop and drawing his weapon.
Screaming, this time from the scattered pedestrians and before Michelle can reach the door, gunshots.
Her hand goes to her waist out of habit and she looks over at her mom, who is very still and pale, her hand gripping one of the hangers.
The saleswoman is hiding under the counter and Michelle puts her hands on her mom's shoulders.
"Mom?" She's trying to get her to hear her voice, to know that they're okay, but part of her is assessing the situation and she's not sure what just happened.
She looks over at the saleswoman again, who is slowly beginning to stand, and makes a decision. I have to see what the hell is going on
"Mom?" She moves to hold onto her hands and gently leads her to a nearby chair. Gunshots aren't part of her mom's life. And it's even been a while since Michelle herself has heard one.
"Chelle, what - " Her mom's voice is almost frail.
"I'm going to go see what happened. I'll be right back, I promise." She has no badge, and they'll look oddly at a pregnant woman asking questions, but right now she doesn't care.
Michelle opens the door and steps outside, hearing loud voices and sirens coming closer.
A cop is hitting the dark-skinned man on the ground, screaming that he won't succeed this time, and blood is seeping into the concrete sidewalk. His partner is calling in the incident, saying that the man was a terror suspect.
Michelle edges closer.
Another officer steps in front of them, blocking her view. "Ma'am, for your own safety please go back to behind the line - " His mirrored shades reflect the sun and his head's angled down, as if wondering if she too is a danger.
The cop beating the man roughly shakes him and empties the man's backpack, running his hand over the items. His partner curses. Michelle can't see what he found, but the cop without the blood stained hands is checking the man's pulse.
She's unable to look away from the blood pooling into the street, and she thought she'd never have to see a scene like this ever again.
The one with mirrored shades gets a call and the ambulance arrives.
You were supposed to protect him! That woman's voice forever echoes in her mind.
Some of the other people begin clapping and Michelle lifts her hands to join them, but instead turns away.
Ghost in this house
Jan. 18th, 2007 10:52 pmMichelle hasn't seen Jack since the bar. She's gotten updated status reports from Chris - a cold way to think about a friend's well being, but it's easier to treat this as an investigation.
Her attempts at tracking information back to the source have hit one dead end after another. According to the evidence, a little birdie told the Chinese about Jack still being alive. She called the Toronto police, using her old CTU credentials, and asked the head officer numerous questions about the crime scene and the storage of evidence. She ran a check on her own phones to see if they were being tapped, went through her systems, but she was running out of ideas.
She stifles a yawn. Dr. Banks said being tired is normal and besides, she is still recovering from an emotional experience. When it came time during the prenatal exam to give the father's history, she almost broke down when she realized she didn't know if Tony's family ever had certain diseases and she couldn't believe she didn't ask Alex or Maria those questions before the visit. Her voice trembled as she said she'd have to get back to her on some information. Dr. Banks said a blood test would determine pregnancy and Michelle glanced up at her and told her that she knows she's pregnant and there's no way she's wrong.
The rest of the visit went normally and Michelle watched her blood fill small glass tubes and thought about how she was bleeding for two.
In the waiting area, her mom sat reading Worth and when she saw her daughter she put aside the magazine and walked over to her. Over the last few weeks, Michelle's observed that her mom's started turning Tony into a larger than life figure and using him as a surefire way to keep her from doing anything even slightly dangerous. At the same time, her mom's dislike toward Jack has only grown and Michelle's stopped giving her updates.
In a way she's trapped. Some feelings and things she can never tell anyone - she can't talk to Chris about her jealousy and she can't talk to her mom because she'll only feed her hate and she can't talk to any of her old friends because the circumstances of Tony's death are secret and even if they weren't, she's not sure what she'd say. Some mornings she misses Tony so much she can barely breathe and other times she thinks maybe today will be a good day - but then she'll spot something that reminds her of him and have to force herself to move. She still feels him with her, still expects that she'll wake up and feel his hand against hers, hear him in the shower, have him hand her coffee in the morning - so many little things she took for granted when they were first married, cherished when they were brought back together, and now miss like a sixth sense.
And she knows Jack must have been surprised when she called and asked him if he would help her get Tony's clothes ready for donation. Her mom's been mentioning it casually and more than that she knows living with his memory so strongly around her doesn't help anyone - especially herself and when she's further into her pregnancy she won't be able to lift as much and after the baby arrives it'll be difficult to find the time or energy.
There's a knock at the door and she knows he's arrived.
You're the only song I want to hear
Nov. 11th, 2006 08:35 pmMichelle regards herself in the mirror.
If she didn't know, she couldn't tell.
She's almost disappointed in herself for turning to the side and eying her profile. She won't grab a pillow and stuff it under her shirt and pants just to see what she'll look like in a few months. Time, as far as she's concerned, has no meaning.
Every day she gets up and eats and forces herself to do exercise. Sometimes she doesn't taste the food but she knows that she has to stay healthy for the baby and she won't live - can't live - with the guilt of killing their child because she thought only of herself. What she wants no longer matters. Pregnancy means no alcohol, no drugs, no wild living and the only thing she takes are vitamins. Every morning she X's out another day on the calendar and tries to remember all the reasons why she can't follow Tony into the dark.
At night, it's harder, wiping away tears as she looks at pictures, touching the one that Tony kept in his wallet even after they were divorced. She wants to believe that he knows and is happy for her. But she fears that he's watching and jealous of the people around her.
She closes her eyes and imagines Tony's arms around her, his chest against her back, his lips near her ear.
"Michelle, my belle -- " He sings softly, teasingly, knowing her reaction to the song. The nickname was sweet the first time she heard it, but a lot of men she met thought they were very original in referring to the song. Tony used to sing it in Spanish to her, his fingertips stroking her shoulder, her side, her hair and she'd close her eyes, falling back to sleep. They discovered that after the remarriage, when she'd be jumpy from nightmares and only his voice tied her to reality. Sometimes she had to remind him he was with her, too. She woke up alone now, shaken by nightmares that were more memory than fantasy. She couldn't stop imagining Tony's last moments and maybe the worst part were her own screams as the gunshot went off and they kept pulling her away from his body.
But she went to lunch with her mom and running with Chris and could pretend that things were getting better because it was only at night that she heard Tony's voice and only when she was alone that she talked to him.
"I found at least four flaws in their security measures," she told him, relating her work of yesterday, not surprised at the silence in response.
She knew he wasn't there but there was nothing wrong with pretending, was there?
She rests her hand on her abdomen, knowing that she is never truly alone now.
"I'll only be like this until you're born, I promise."
Tears slip down her face, and she holds herself tightly, breathing through the breakdown.
She looks up at the mirror again, wishing she could close her eyes and have him be behind her, for God to make an exception just this once.
Milliways changed so much.
Hope is a poor substitute for rationality.
Still Falling
Sep. 23rd, 2006 10:35 pmShe took another sip of the glass of water in her hand and fought a wave of nausea.
At first she wasn't hungry but lately it seemed she couldn't eat because her stomach was mourning too.
Frustrated, she wiped away tears and took a breath. Her slippers made soft noises on the living room floor and outside she saw that night had fallen.
The world had lost its light. Her chest ached with loss and it was hard to remember why she had to go on.
I understand, sweetheart, now I understand.
At least when she went away, there was a sliver of hope, but this was final.
Everyone tried to comfort her, not understanding that she'd lost her motivation, that this blow she couldn't handle. But she pretended, she even visited some clients but it was all just going through the motions. A wall had been erected between her and reality, she stood safely behind the layers and didn't intend to ever let anyone in again. She fought irrational anger and tried not to blame her friends.
I needed you too much, Tony, and I don't know what to do. I wish I went with you.
She still imagined him there, sometimes catching a flash of him in her peripheral vision, feeling a phantom hand touching her face, hearing his voice with her eyes opened or closed. He always thought she was so much stronger, that she could survive his death, that without him she'd be fine. Until that moment that the car blew up, she'd thought he was right, but then she knew that her need for him was physical and deep and that losing him would break something inside of her.
She was right.
Intellectually, she knew that the nausea was her body's physical sign of emotional pain, but she'd started having dreams where Tony turned into a giant bowl of ice cream which talked to her and she woke up horrified that she was disappointed she didn't get to take a bite.
It had been weeks since she'd gotten a decent night's sleep and beyond her grief she felt weak and tired and was having trouble getting warm.
Her plans for the future were gone.
She pushed open the door to her bedroom, surprised when she heard noise, shocked when she realized that she'd made it back to the bar.
Her expression lightened and she smiled, barely keeping herself from running to Bar and hugging her.
Every dark haired man in the bar could be her Tony, every voice sounded like his - but she knew none of them were, none of them made her breath catch or her heart race.
First, she ran to their apartment, pushing open the door and refusing to let the dusty air or closed windows bring her down. He could be living somewhere else, he could be outside --
She didn't care how she looked, dressed in pajama shorts and Tony's sweater and her hair a frizzy cloud around her face. Her search was quick but methodical, each door could lead to Tony, he could be around any corner, he could just be waiting for her, waiting...waiting...
Outside, it was getting a little cool, but she didn't notice as she hurried to their tree, forcing herself to slow down and walk when she got close enough. She could hear her pulse in her ears and whispered his name.
In a fairy tale, his face would slowly appear, his hands reaching out for her, and he'd hold her close.
The spot in front of Tony's tree was empty.
He wasn't there. He wasn't in Milliways. He was gone.
And to dust we return
Sep. 5th, 2006 07:07 pmA reading from the Book of Wisdom
The souls of the just are in the hand of God
and no torment shall touch them.
They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead;
and their passing away was thought an affliction
and their going forth from us, utter destruction.
But they are in peace.
For if before men, indeed they be punished,
yet is their hope full of immortality;
Chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed,
because God tried them,
and found them worthy of himself.
As gold in the furnace, he proved them,
and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself.
In the time of their visitation they shall shine,
and shall dart about as sparks through stubble;
They shall judge nations and rule over peoples,
and the LORD shall be their King forever.
Those who trust in him shall understand truth,
and the faithful shall abide with him in love:
Because grace and mercy are with his holy ones,
and his care is with his elect.
All Souls Mortuary
Long Beach, CA
Michelle feels like a fraud. After the last prayers, the flag still clutched in her hands, she excused herself from the worried and concerned glances from friends and strangers and walked outside. She wished for a cigarette, suddenly remembering Tony standing in the room and smoking. Even now she can see the smoke billowing out of his mouth and the casual way he held the cigarette. She thought she remembered seeing a cigarette in her handbag, one she used very infrequently, and she went to the car, searching through her pocket book, barely feeling the rain hitting her exposed legs. All she finds is a few old ticket stubs and some money, but not what she needs. Arm resting against the headrest, she swallows a sob, trying to tell herself the hardest part is over. She leaves the flag on the back seat, later she'll worry about a case and protection, but now she can barely stand to look at it.
When she comes back inside, her hair's wet from the run to the car and the tears slipping down her face are indistinguishable from rain drops. Before re-entering the reception room, she leans her hands against the wall and tries to center herself.
At least it's over.
She listened to eulogies from people who didn't know Tony at all and her own speech was short and not nearly enough. She couldn't put him into words, her major accomplishment was making it through without her voice cracking. At home, she might have shattered into pieces, but in public, she was determined to be stoic.
Most of the funeral she spent staring at the white flowers on Tony's casket. They reminded her of the lilies that Elaine grew, the ones she held when he put the ring back on her finger, the one she still kept pressed in a book. The ones she hopes he'll give her again when she finds her way back to Milliways.
If she had her way, she'd have had a small funeral, maybe even just a ceremony. But, her mom had been in charge of planning and one of the few things she approved of when it came to Tony was his faith. She felt he would have wanted a Catholic funeral. Tony's siblings agreed. Michelle felt a small spark of hate for Alex as he talked about Tony, when she thought of how much pain he caused his brother, how he never accepted they were different. And the man Tony considered like a brother, his best man, the man he died saving, was almost unrecognizable. If Jack hadn't been standing with Chris, Kim, and Chase, Michelle would have mistaken him for someone older. He looked sad. No, more than that, beaten. Even through her sorrow, she felt guilty for avoiding him.
But what was there to say? Talking would only hurt both of them. Hearing him apologize would be hard to take and anything she tried to tell him he'd never believe. Jack already thought he was responsible for most of the tragedies in their world. It would only end in frustration and pain.
As she opens the door, a low murmur greets her, people looking at her expectantly.
I'm the center of attention
She really wants a cigarette.
And although she'd felt ill earlier, she picks up a piece of cheesecake and begins to eat, finding that if she stands and nods, people tend to ask fewer questions and move onto someone who is more open to conversation. At first every vow of sympathy during the wake had brought her to tears but now she remembers some of the comments Tony made about people in the room. Her mom's dressed in black, her hand touching Alan's arm and Danny tries to be the protective big brother she no longer needs. Her dad keeps trying to block her from view and Amy pats her hand as if to remind her she's not alone.
I'm lying to all of you and you'll never know
For Michelle, this amount of closeness and support is like a straight jacket getting tighter, but she's already missed her chance to escape.
The only man she wants next to her, the only voice she wants to hear, the only hands she wants holding hers, never will again - unless she can find the door and he has to be there -- for a moment she forgets where she is, imagines she can feel his breath against her cheek and she reaches out her hand to touch his face but it's all gone and she snaps back to reality when her fork hits the ground.
"Michelle?"
A man's voice. Bill. He's handing her another fork, and what she wants to do is run back outside, get in a car and drive off.
Even Chloe's pretending not to watch her movements.
"It slipped away," she says, accepting the fork and taking another bite of cake.
Bill nods. He must know she means more than the fork.
You're not Tony.
"You don't have to be strong, Michelle." He says softly.
He said those same words before and that time she'd held onto him tight.
But he's wrong, because if she breaks again now, she'll never come back. She can't let everyone see her fall. Her pain is private.
"Tony's dead, Bill. What else can I be?" She puts down the plate and willingly walks back into her family's smothering embrace.
OOM: Confession
Aug. 23rd, 2006 02:10 pmEarlier, she'd called President Palmer, trying not to break down for those few minutes. Hearing the former President giving his condolences was almost more than she could take - she managed to tell him they had to get Tony back and hung up, hugging herself, feeling nauseous. Her husband dead and all their good intentions destroyed. An easy conversation compared to the ones she had with Alex and Maria. Alex had demanded an answer, had wanted to know why he was dead and she couldn't tell him, could barely speak.
Maria had sobbed into the phone, begging for it to be a lie and then offered to come and stay and help. Michelle told her it was okay, that it would be okay, anything she could think of to get off the phone. All they had were questions and she can never tell the truth. Distantly, she hears her mom on the phone and smells food which only makes her feel more ill. A small voice tells her that she should ask about - should care about - the others that didn't -- Her thoughts of anyone other than Tony feel far off.
Which only makes her feel guilty and then angry for feeling guilty, and then crushed. Tony's dead and thinking of anything else is impossible. Even the state of two of her best friends, one of whom Tony died to save and --
She turns onto her back and looks up at the ceiling, hearing footsteps on the stairs.
Her mom knocks lightly and pushes open the door.
"Are you hungry?"
"No," she turns back on her side, looks back at the dresser - the gun - and it's hard to remember why she's fighting.
"Chelle, talk to me." Her voice is closer now and she tries to sound sympathetic. She sits on the edge of the mattress, near her daughter's waist, forcing Michelle to turn the other way.
"Mom, please."
"Michelle."
Even now, she can't disobey, and she turns to face her. Her mom's blond hair is back in a ponytail like Martha Logan sometimes wears when she's trying to look casual. Michelle's mom loves Logan.
"What?" Her voice's rough and throat tight.
"I've been calling people all day - "
"I didn't ask you to," she says softly. She sounds ungrateful. She doesn't care.
"They ask when the funeral will be - when the viewing - "
"Mom - stop," she's trying not to scream.
"Who did Antonio go to save? I need some answers, Chelle. You've kept me out long enough." Her mom's voice is harsh but she gently rubs her arm.
She moistens her lips and presses her face into the pillow. "I can't tell you." But I want to. I want to tell someone and it will never make sense and we've committed a crime but there was no other choice.
"Alan knows an excellent grief counselor." She reaches for the phone that Michelle's tossed on the other side of the bed.
Quicker than she should be able to move, Michelle's hand wraps around her mom's wrist and she sits up on her knees, gazing at her mom with a kind of wild intensity.
"Don't call Alan. You can't call Alan. He can't know. No one can know. Not Bill, not Alan, not anyone in government."
"Michelle, you're not making any sense -- " Her mom tries to pull away, unable to hide her sudden fear.
"Mom, Tony and I - we did something and if anyone finds out - anyone - a lot of people could be in trouble." She lets go and her mom sits back a little. She's gone into lawyer mode.
"What have you been doing, Michelle?" Her tone's cold.
"Last year I went to the funeral of a friend who wasn't really dead. He was --Jack -- they were going to kill him and we had no choice, couldn't just let him die not - not after -- " She looks down at her chipped nail polish, takes a breath, forces herself to continue. "A few weeks ago, we found out that he had been captured and had to try to save him, and Tony - he - he knew that - but he didn't - and he's alive but Tony - Tony - " She leans forward, her hands pressing into her stomach.
Her mom's expression softens and she touches her shoulder. "I think you'd better tell me everything."
Leaving out the bar and in the sketchiest way possible, Michelle haltingly tells her mom about April 2010 and why they helped a fugitive escape justice.
OOM: The Aftermath
Aug. 20th, 2006 02:51 amDarkness I Feel Like Letting Go
Michelle cleaned until ammonia stung her eyes and her fingers hurt from scrubbing. She knew it was nothing compared to what was happening to Chris, to Chase, to Jack, to --
Four days. Four days without word except for some more footage Chloe sent and she's stopped herself from watching it on a loop. She tried to get to China, but the flights were too expensive and she knew that she would only get herself killed. Chloe sent an encrypted email, telling her that they were trying again. She doesn't believe in God, but she prayed.
Now, she sits at the computer, watches normal network traffic, and waits.
I should call Bill. I should tell him. Can't do this on our own -- It's the same thought that's been plaguing her for weeks. But she can't tell him what's going on without breaking Jack's cover and opening herself up to a lot of unanswerable questions. No, they have to do this alone.
A beep from the system in front of her. Something is lighting up every applicable spy satellite. An urgent memo from Division reports an explosion in northwest China and her heart's in her throat as the graph spikes.
She slips her earpiece on and dials Chloe's number.
"Chloe, they're onto you -- "
"Doesn't matter, they're out," a long pause. "Michelle, Tony, he didn't - "
She digs her nails into her palm, feeling tears slip down her face and tasting salt. She thought she'd be unable to cry.
"No. Not -- "
"I'm so sorry."
Michelle doesn't hear those words, clicking off the connection, covering her face with her hands and when she opens her eyes, it's like the world has changed.
The program flashes at her and Michelle ignores it.
No mistake, no last minute phone call, no pardons, there's just footage from days ago - a body wrapped in a tarp --
("It's over. It's...it's finally over."
She feels guilty when she thinks of all the dead but oh god it's over.
He wraps his arms around her and pulls her close into a hug, rocking her gently. "Yeah, it's over.")
Screen going blurry, she reaches out and traces the monitor - the tarp - her --
("But I'm your wife," she whispers. And realizes what she just said.
"And I'm your husband. I should've...I should've told you. And I shouldn't have pushed you away. I should've worked harder to keep you, and I didn't. I failed then. I don't want to fail now." He pauses. "Besides, you're, ah, not my wife now. At least not yet."
She pulls back to look at him and touches his face, "Not yet?" she breathes, as if afraid to say it too loud.
"I think you'd need to marry me beforehand."
He pauses, bites his lip and looks down. He can't believe he's about to say this. After all that's happened, after the way he's behaved, he doesn't deserve to ask this of her but--damnit it was the one thing he wanted most day in and day out and why not ask now?
"...would you?"
When he says the words it feels like something inside of her melts.
Together, the way they should be...the way they would be if life hadn't thrown them a few huge obstacles.
"Nothing in the world would make me happier." She grins, can't help it, even after his confession and the knowledge of what happened because...he's hers and she's his.)
In a violent movement, she stands, the chair falling over onto its side, she glares at the monitor and swipes , pushing it over the edge of the table. The LCD screen doesn't crack, the flat panel holding onto life by its connection cord , swinging slightly from the force of her action. She takes a shuddering breath, stumbling backward, until she reaches the door frame and she leans her forehead against the wood, gasping for air.
"Tony," she whimpers.
Pressing her hand against her stomach, she struggles to stay standing, all warmth's slipped away and goosebumps prickle her skin.
Didn't get to say goodbye. Say I love you. Say wait for me
Milliways.
("Wherever I go after I die...I hope it's with you."
She leans her head against his shoulder and closes her eyes, "I do too, sweetheart."
He closes his eyes, takes a breath. He's not really sure where he's going. Doesn't know if it's heaven or hell, purgatory or the bar. And even though this is contrary to everything he's been taught about the afterlife, he knows he wouldn't mind suffering if it meant he could be with Michelle forever. Losing her once was hell and purgatory enough for him.
He wraps his arms around her, squeezing her. "I love you."
"I love you. So much," she breathes. He's holding her tightly but she's hugging back almost as hard.
"You're my home," she whispers)
She runs out the room and up the stairs. Her hand trembles as she opens the door, but she finds only their - her - bedroom.
"No," she whispers, trying another door, which leads to the guest room -- perfect for our first child and Tony wanted to decorate it because he was so sure that we'd be successful --
She squeezes her eyes shut, but Milliways doesn't appear.
Every door in the house opens to the next room. No matter how many times she tries.
One other way. She opens the bedroom door - sheets don't smell like him anymore, never will again
In her drawer is her old gun and she rummages through her shirts until she finds it. Hard to remember reasons for living - hard to think beyond the feel of his breath against the nape of her neck and the sound of his laughter and if she'd only gone with him - if only he hadn't gone at all. But, couldn't do that, would have never been able to look at him without thinking of how they let Jack die.
Trapped and made a choice, a sacrifice, but they were supposed to have their happily ever after. Sweetheart, why aren't you here, you should be here --
(She slides her arms around him and rests her cheek against his arm. "It's okay to need me."
He, in turn, wraps his arms around her, resting his cheek against her hair. He simply nods, and closes his eyes.
He does need her. More than anything.
"Because I need you," she says in a soft voice.)
She grasps the gun in her hands, holds it against her chest and sways, reaching out and sinking down to the floor, still cradling it.
Please. Please I just want to say goodbye. I just want to see him again. I need to see him again
(But she looks up at her husband, at the man she loves more than anyone else, and hopes that they don't have to journey through that door for a long, long time.
He hoped that God, in His mercy, would let them leave together. To the clearing. To heaven.
To wherever they were going to spend eternity together.)
The phone rings and she can pull the trigger or talk.
Another breath.
"Chelle, it's your mother. A Chloe O'Brien called me, she said that something happened to Tony." A sigh. "Chelle, pick up the phone."
She hugs the gun tighter, but she already knows she's going to put it away.
"Chelle, I'm grabbing my keys and I'm coming over." In the background, she can hear her step-dad Alan whispering, "Lindy, is something wrong?"
She leans forward, holding the gun in her right hand, grabbing the phone with her left, and her voice trembles as she answers.
"Mom? It's over."
"Chelle?"
"Had to save him and couldn't....and Tony, he - he didn't make it..."
"Didn't -- ?"
"He's dead mom, he's gone, he's not coming back and I - " I've lost everything
"I'll be right over."
"Don't bring Alan." Only a few people have seen her this way and even in this state she knows she doesn't want Alan to be one of them.
"Okay, whatever you want," Her mother's voice tries to be soothing.
I want Tony, I want to go back in time and ask Bill and CTU for help, I want --
("I can call you my lover,"
"That sounds so...exotic. Can't I just be your boyfriend?"
"Can't you just be my Tony?"
"I can be your Tony as long as you can be my Michelle." )
"Please hurry," she barely recognizes her voice.
[ooc: Huge thanks to Karen and Bridget for beta. Also, Sarah Mclachlan for inspiration and some lyrics.]
Kiss today goodbye
Aug. 7th, 2006 12:57 pmLos Angeles, CA
March 4, 2012
One final command and Michelle pulls back from the computer and breathes a sigh of relief. The back door to CTU's network still works. Her computer is successfully connected to the CTU subnet. If anything Chris, Chloe, and Tony do gets to the wrong people, she'll know. And be able to warn them. She's not worried about getting caught - out of all of them, her role is the safest. It isn't her choice - she wants to be infiltrating with Tony and Chris - but someone has to stay behind and monitor CTU.
Chris. She remembers when Chris came to visit and Michelle, usually not a very physically affectionate person, hugged her tightly and tried to think of something helpful to say. She'd only been able to whisper, "We'll get him back."
But looking at the computerized plans and the maps of the location, she wonders if that's a lie. Even if they find him, the Chinese are gifted interrogators. If they've had him this long - Jack could be alive, but if they pushed him past the breaking point, he might be too far gone to save. She closes her eyes and tries to push the thought away, but it remains. No one else will entertain their worst fears coming true - but Michelle's seen worst case scenarios play out in front of her eyes. She's seen the infected bleeding and screaming, sobbing children holding onto their parents, the bloody nose that meant the end was near, and been one of the few to survive. Tony had hope, but she'd been prepared to die.
She climbs upstairs to their bedroom, pausing at the door and nudging it open. Tony closes his cell and takes a breath. His back is to her.
"What did Palmer say?"
He picks up an item and puts it in the suitcase. "His thoughts and prayers will be with us. I'd feel a lot better about this mission if some of Jack's old Delta buddies were accompanying us."
"Except they all think he's dead." She leans against the door frame and watches him.
"Yeah," he sighs, "Chris'll get reinforcements from Milliways. Magic beats Delta Force. Jack's captors won't know what hit 'em." He throws a shirt into the suitcase with a little more effort than necessary.
He sounds so confident. So sure that everything will work out. She's envious of his strength for a moment.
She walks up behind him and places her hand on his shoulder. "Tony, what if he's - they might have had no reason to keep him alive."
His back tenses and he breathes sharply. He turns to face her, his hand capturing her cheek. "Baby, if anyone could survive -- "
"It's Jack. I know. But what if you get there and - " she forces herself to stop talking. "Someone had to say it," she looks up at the man she loves more than anyone in the world.
He leans down and kisses her, she wraps her arms around him and grabs onto his shirt. He pulls back, breathing a little heavier and lifts her chin slightly to look her in the eyes.
"I've had the same doubts, Michelle. But if he's alive and we do nothing..." He wants her to assuage his fears and she can't.
"This wasn't supposed to happen! Our job was to make sure this wouldn't happen. How could we have - " She leans against his chest and breathes slowly, trying to wait out the tears.
"Sweetheart, you can't blame yourself. It happened, now we have to deal with it."
Michelle nods and Tony, considering the conversation finished, steps back and continues packing.
I want to go with you. I'm terrified of letting you go alone. Losing you is the one fear I won't face.
"There's something else, Tony. Even if he is alive...you know what they do to their own people, let alone foreign government agents."
His gaze is troubled. "Yeah, I do."
She nods and takes a breath, pushing forward. "And if they broke him, if they made him talk, he wouldn't want to live."
"Michelle - "
"Tony, I know it's- "
He shakes his head. "This is Jack we're talking about, Michelle. And he's more than just a nameless agent. He's our friend."
"You think I don't know that?" She whispers. Tony doesn't need to spell out how much he means to both of them. "No one else will let him go. As his friend...if there's nothing left to save..." But she's horrified by her own thoughts. And she knows she couldn't pull the trigger.
Tony wraps his arms around her again, but this time she can feel the tension in his muscles. "It's alright. I know you're worried. But we're going to get him out."
We should have kept this from happening and he's spent years of his life away from his family and if this was all inevitable anyway why did we bother lying and how could this have happened and why did we wait so long and how much are they hurting him and why do you have to go and I'm so afraid to let you go so far away and I'm worried for you, for him, for Chris - oh God, Chris, I know what it's like to have someone you love be missing...
Instead of talking, she presses her lips against his, her hands touching his face and she wants to feel every inch of him. She has to hold him one last time before he leaves.
"Now?" He sounds slightly amused, but his arm reaches back to clear the bed, pushing things aside so that he can pull them both down.
As his fingers slide under her shirt and she slips her hands into his sweat pants, she tries to stop thinking and just react.
"Now," she breathes against his neck.
-------------
Afterward and later, they're lying in bed together, their breathing returning to normal. She presses her lips against his jaw and rests her head near his shoulder. Absently, he twirls a curl around his finger.
"I'd feel better if you were at my side."
"Someone has to stay behind and monitor CTU and make sure you get out of the country with no problems. We also have some clients, remember? And hopefully...when this is all over, we'll have our friend back in more ways than one." She's practiced this answer.
He looks over at her, "Yeah. It's just gonna be....I'll miss you."
"I'll see you soon," she promises, leaning up to kiss him.
He holds her for a few moments. "You comin' down to say goodbye?"
"I think that'll make this harder." Her voice is softer and slower than usual.
Tony nods, gazing at her, stroking his hand down her cheek. "I get that." He raises her hand to his mouth, gently kissing the back before squeezing it and moving it off his chest. "I can't miss the plane."
"I put all of the information by the door. Palmer must have called in some favors to get those visas."
"They can't trace back to him - right?"
"I used to do this for a living, remember?"
"How could I forget?" He kisses her forehead and slides out of bed.
"Tony?"
"Yeah?" He's putting back on his clothes.
"Be careful."
He laughs slightly and slips his concealed weapons permit into his pocket.
"If I don't hear from you in a week, I'm following you."
"Sweetheart, if you don't hear from me for a few days...it's already too late."
She closes her mouth and tries not to let her tears fall.
"I refuse to accept that, Tony." She sits up, tilting her head back to look at him.
He sits on the edge of the bed and holds her hand. "Baby, if we get separated...I'll be waiting for you at the bar. But it's not going to happen."
She nods, swallowing and smiling at herself. "You'll be home soon."
"I'll be home soon."
OOM: Meeting with a client
Feb. 18th, 2006 10:25 pmMichelle types some commands on the computer and a prompt comes up. She inserts the CD, loads it, and waits for it to work. A few minutes later and she has her answer.
"Your firewall is inadequate and your encryption is a joke," she tells the man standing behind her.
Ian Dales sighs, "How much of my data's vulnerable?" He's involved in taxes, which means his systems have a lot of sensitive information.
"All of it. Luckily, no one's tried to hack in yet," she says, turning to face him. Ian's in his mid-30s with short dark hair, brown eyes, glasses, and the look of an athlete that's started to spend more time sitting than moving.
"Whatever you need to do, you have my permission."
She smiles, "Thank you, Ian. We'll have someone over later today to install the new encryption program."
"You can't do it now?" He sounds a little worried. He glances at the screen.
She smiles apologetically, "I'm late for another appointment, but I think you'll be happy with the way the work turns out." She's really late to meet Tony for lunch, but these days that is something that needs to be scheduled.
"I trust you, Michelle. You and Tony." He says sincerely. Ian's wife, Erica, was one of Michelle's friends from college.
Michelle pauses in the middle of standing, blinking to stop her thoughts. For a moment he almost sounded like someone else.
"I appreciate that, Ian." She says finally, gathering the CD and equipment and placing them in her bag.
"Can't be too careful these days. Did you hear about the terrorist attack that was stopped in Toronto?"
"Terrorist strikes are stopped every day, Ian." She says with some authority.
"Yeah, but this one almost happened...fluke accident that it was prevented," he shakes his head. "The world's a dangerous place. Felt a little safer when I knew that at least one competent person was trying to keep us safe," he gives her a pointed look.
She feels guilty about leaving all over again, turning back to the computer so that he won't see her reaction.
She's silent for a few moments. "Can I use your restroom before I go?"
"Sure, it's right through those doors and to the left."
She takes the smaller bag with her when she leaves. She has to take her temperature, she hopes it's almost at the right point because the lunch date is really less about lunch and more about trying to make a baby.
But where she winds up looks nothing like a bathroom.
OOM: Packing Up
Jan. 28th, 2006 03:11 pmHer mother never really did accept her choice. But, it was her decision and every morning that she woke up in Tony's arms, she thanked whatever was out there for their second chance. Her mom would come around. Or she wouldn't.
But, this place held too many memories - long nights of insomnia, tears, doubt...she wanted to move somewhere else, start over with new things. A fresh start, of sorts, although it was an unspoken understanding that they needed to stay near LA.
Her hands deftly wrap a picture frame in white paper and put it gently into the open box. She looks at one, taken at their first wedding. Tony, her, and her dad.
It would be easy to sneak up on her.
Back in apartment
Dec. 3rd, 2005 09:48 pmMichelle isn't going to the bar today. She was okay yesterday, but for some reason she's having trouble getting out of bed right now. She feels that he's missing.
She doesn't plan on moving today, but the knock on her door makes her stand up, throw on a robe and walk out to the hallway.
She runs a hand over her hair and wipes under her eyes, hoping that she doesn't look as terrible as she feels. Then, she opens the door.
In the apartment
Dec. 3rd, 2005 12:19 pmShe doesn't expect Tony to walk into the apartment, she understands that this isn't something she can solve or investigate, if he disappeared the way that Gil said he did, he is beyond her right now.
Out of all the ways she thought she could lose him, she never thought anything like this could happen, that she'd wake up, spend a few hours with him and then...he'd be gone.
He's not gone, he's just disappeared, he'll come back, don't let yourself even think about that possibility
She reaches for the book he was reading, a sci-fi novel about multiple worlds, and she runs her fingers over the raised letters. You're stronger than this, a book isn't going to break you, he's only been gone an hour or so, pull yourself together, Michelle. You have to tell people, you can't just sit here quietly trying not to throw up from worry. Proactive, be proactive, not reactive.
As she puts aside the book, she notices her laptop computer and pulls it closer to her. After a few minutes she has a note written, but she'll have to go into the bedroom to get the printer. She stands and walks down the hall, when she opens the door to the bedroom she sees the long sleeved Cubs shirt that Tony took off this morning and tossed on the bed.
You're stronger than this, it's just a shirt.
But she can't stop herself from pulling off her sweater and slipping his shirt over her head.
He's coming home, you're being maudlin, stop it.
She breathes in and out and puts back on her sweater, it's too cold for just one layer. The printer's nearby and she grabs it, leaving the room before the urge to lie down becomes impossible to resist.
He'll come back.
Putting a note on the board is the cowardly way to handle this, but she doesn't want to see anyone's reaction to the news, because that would make it inescapable. Now, he's just missing, just misplaced...and he'll come back. There is no other possible outcome.
AU!Michelle Background
Nov. 16th, 2005 05:57 pmWhen Michelle was seventeen, her mother died of cancer, and she was left to fend for herself. Geoffrey Cook, a director on her step-father's last movie, was very nice to her and she saw a way to use that to her advantage. Seducing him wasn't difficult and he loved her because she wasn't just trying to get into his movies. Behind the scenes, she was a fierce negotiator and believed strongly in his vision. Michelle Dessler Randall Cook might have worn bikinis and gone out to all the right parties but if anyone tried to screw her husband over, they answered to her.
When Geoffrey Cook had a massive stroke, Michelle had the DNR papers and cried as they pulled the plug. Geoffrey would not have wanted to live that way, she said to the press.
At the time, Cook was in the middle of a picture for Jack Bauer's production company and Anthony Almeida was instrumental in making sure that she wouldn't be sued for breach of contract. They also became fast friends and when Michelle realized that her nest egg wasn't going to last and Tony could offer her much more, she accepted his proposal.
Michelle uses her ditzy appearance to her advantage and may play up the act a little, especially around Anthony and his friends, but she's hiding a calculating mind that is always focused on her goals. Anthony, for his part, doesn't care about her relationships as long as they stay out of the press and Michelle is very good at keeping things quiet. All her close friends call her Chelles and occasionally Michie.
She's an observer to all the on-set tension, but she never expected to fall in love during a negotiation.
Placeholder for Tony-Michelle
Oct. 27th, 2005 03:12 pmShe's smiling because she's heard that Ryan's back. She's also waiting for Tony.
Anniversary
Sep. 20th, 2005 04:18 pmSeptember 19. September 20. Michelle's wedding on the 18th made it easy to forget the pain the next day held. She wakes up in the middle of the night from a nightmare she can barely remember but she tastes copper. Tony is sleeping soundly and she slips out of bed, not wanting to wake him.
She makes her way into the bathroom to rinse out her mouth and the sight of her blood in the sink almost makes her scream. It takes a moment for her to realize she must have bitten the inside of her cheek.
Just a nightmare, just a nightmare, just an anniversary, nothing can hurt me now...
Two years ago on this date, her world crumbled. She looks down at the ring on her finger and rubs her thumb over the simple band.
The names of people who died in the hotel come back to her and she doesn't try to stop them. Her therapist said that this is healthy.
Remember the dead and the losses but don't let it become the focus of your life
I'm not infected, don't put me in there with them...I don't want to harm you...Don't move...You killed him! You were supposed to protect him/us/them. This pill is like going to sleep.
She takes a deep breath and shakily lets it out.
Killed in the line of duty, you killed him, couldn't stop it, should have gotten him much earlier, have to let Saunders re-capture me. Killed in the line of duty.
When she thinks she can move without breaking she goes back into the bedroom and sits in the reading chair. She curls up and looks at Tony sleeping, his image blurring in front of her.
It was an impossible choice.
