Now all my hours are trances;
and all my nightly dreams
are where the dark eye glances
and where thy footstep gleams....
E.A. Poe

Michael shifted restlessly in bed. It had been hours since he first attempted to get some much-needed sleep. The last Mission he had been on lasted four days and short of a few hours most of it had been spent awake and active throughout. Exhaustion hit immediately upon return but debriefing had still to occur.....reports to be made. He literally dragged himself home, stripping off pieces of clothing discarded haphazardly throughout his apartment en route to the bedroom. His usual ritual of a nice hot shower followed by a glass of cabernet before retiring was waylaid by an urgent need to either lay down or fall down. That was hours ago.....restless tossing and turning caused frustration....the gentle fluffing of pillows transforming into a closed fisted beating of the defenseless down. Exasperated he finally flung himself onto his back, arm lying across his eyes, willing himself to relax.

Gradually tense muscles began to loosen as breathing began its descent to a slow even pace. Eyelids became weighted as the beginnings of slumber made its entrance. Balancing precariously between the fine line of conscious and unconscious came the vague sensation of a sudden chill. The thought of reaching down to pull the covers onto him entered his mind but the heavy relaxed feeling in his limbs prevented any movement. He felt as if he were drifting......feeling strangely at ease with this unusual sensation. Peace.....He felt it envelope him almost to the point of euphoria. Balancing on the outskirts of his awareness was an odor, not unpleasant but indiscernible. A slightly electric feeling overcame him as the hairs on his body stood upright......skin rippling with bumps in reaction to the now freezing atmosphere. A sound permeated the air and suddenly he became uneasy....it was an ugly menacing sound......one that immediately dissolved the euphoric feeling. He struggled to awaken in response to an abrupt insight of foreboding. As if in answer to this struggle he felt a weight pushing down on his chest, forcefully holding him from his attempted ascent. His heart raced, forcing blood to his temples....a pounding echo reverberating to the tune of its beat. Now freezing temperatures caused rapid breaths intertwined with a forceful shudder. The weight became heavier......now holding limbs firmly to the mattress and the once somewhat pleasant odor took on an acrid pungent smell that burned his nasal passages. Forcing his eyes open only heightened the anxiety, as there was nothing there.......nothing concrete for his mind to grasp onto. His breaths escaped him in visible puffs of steam....warm air meeting cold. Glancing at his limbs he found them unrestrained.....Used all of his strength to move but one hand....seeing the muscles flex in his forearm, fingers curling into a fist.....yet unable to free them from the unseen grip. The smell became stronger causing a wave of nausea so strong he felt the bile rise up into his throat. The horrific sound groaned through his ears....a wail he was sure came from the depths of hell. Frozen in terror his heart nearly stopped when the phone rang.......

Immediately the pressure lifted from his limbs......the odor fading, leaving no remnants. The atmosphere returned to soothing warmth and the only sound breaking the silence was the ringing of the phone. Taking a deep breath to grab hold of his faculties he picked up the receiver......"I'm on my way" was all he could manage.

Shakily he made his way to the bathroom and adjusted the water temperature on the shower. A sudden wave of nausea overcame him and this time unable to push it down went to his knees, retching into the porcelain bowl. After what seemed like an eternity he rose to splash water on his face, catching his image in the mirror. He stared into the green eyes reflected there and saw something.....something he had never seen there before.......fear.

***********

A shadow darker than the shadow of the night
...the heart of a conquering darkness.
Joseph Conrad

Briefing had been in its infant stages when Michael walked in. With a brief nod to Operations he quickly took his seat, aware of the many eyes that stared at him in surprise.......that one or the other had at least once been late for a briefing was understood.....Michael on the other hand was always the first to arrive.

Nikita, who more often than not was the greatest perpetrator of tardiness, stared at Michael immediately taking in the fatigue he tried hard to camouflage. She noted the dark hollows beneath his eyes and the almost gray tone to his usually healthy complexion. Without realizing it she shook her head and gave a subtle smirk...knowing full well that Michael could and would push himself beyond the limits of a normal human being. Her silent musings came to an abrupt halt when Operation's voice continued with Intel for the upcoming mission.

**************

The briefing had come to an end, the mission a relatively simple one that probably wouldn't have required Michael's being called in on the direct heels of the previous mission, except for the fact that the meet was to take place with someone who spoke only French. Nikita was actually looking forward to this particular mission. She loved to sit and hear Michael's beautiful voice speak in his native tongue....to hear him speak English with a French lilt was sexy....to hear him speak French nearly drove her over the edge. With this thought in mind and a broad smile on her face she ran directly into the object of her contemplation.

"Michael" she stammered. She felt the heat of her blushing face.....*relax girl*...she thought..*he can't read minds* Gathering control she continued...."You look exhausted."

Rather than his usual response he surprised her with..." I guess I am, haven't gotten much sleep lately." That said he continued walking to his office, leaving a mildly surprised Nikita in his wake.

**************

The mission as expected was a relatively simple one. Michael finished up working on his computer, sinking back into his chair. His entire body felt the weighted effects of exhaustion ....the prime directive now being whether he could muster up enough energy to bring himself home. The beckoning of his soft bed was his motivation and with a grunt he rose from the chair to answer its call.

He entered the apartment, once again forgoing his usual pre-sleep ritual for the instant gratification of slumber. He lay back sighing deeply, letting his body unwind naturally.

The combination of the soft breeze through an open window and the crisp cool sheet caressing bare skin setting the stage for sensation's slide into oblivion.....All thoughts fading away..............

He could feel it......gentle fingers gliding up his arms, across his chest. Soothing sounds blended melodically with the now sensual caress, the stirrings of arousal gently pulling him to the boundaries of consciousness. Eyes fluttered open, his mind slowly making the transition from the blissful void of sleep. His gaze wandered sluggishly over the shadow-crowded room, years of training enabling him to assess his environment while staving off the pull of slumber. Having given himself the all clear he tossed onto his side, pulling the pillow sideways to support his head while hugging it to his chest. With a deep sigh relaxation settled in quickly and once again sleep claimed him.

With a start he awoke.....heart pounding in his chest....... breathing deep and rapid. Accustomed to waking this way on the heels of one of his nightmares, he lay still waiting for the symptoms of terror to fade away............they didn't..........

The smell......he remembered it from the night before......again introduced as a not unpleasant aroma. His mind immediately made the connection.......knowing enough now not to be fooled into this languid state of euphoria. He sat up quickly; looking around the room despite his own screaming thoughts that no one was there. The temperature of the room plunged causing him to shiver uncontrollably. His senses were accosted by the now acrid odor.......the eerie shrill penetrating his head. With sudden force he was slammed back down onto the mattress; the shock of the physical assault causing a sharp intake of breath. Any attempt at movement was now futile; limbs pinned by unseen hands. His hands curled into the sheets, fingers clenched into fists grabbing for some control. A feather light sensation made a trail around his neck......slowly becoming more pronounced........gripping now. Panting for breath as the hold around his neck closed ever tighter.....aware only of the pounding in his chest. His limbs jerked in violent spasms, lack of oxygen causing muscles to contract rigidly. He stared at the ceiling the haze of blackness dancing before his eyes, a sudden sense of peace filtering in as the battle became lost. Fleeting thoughts entered his delirium....the last conscious one being *and so it ends*.

*************

I need, therefore I imagine
Carlos Fuentes

A cool breeze wafted through the window bringing with it the early morning sounds of the various birds starting their day. Michael stirred in response, at first leisurely as the rise to consciousness was gentle. The fog of slumber lifted swiftly as memories of his night terror flooded him.......attempts to rationalize immediately winning out to label the experience a nightmare. Being a frequent visitor to the black depths of despair and horror accompanied with sleep, he shrugged off the uneasy feeling and headed to the shower.

The steady stream of water relaxed sore muscles as he stood there letting it pour over his head and body, open to its therapeutic effects. Thoughts of his nightmare tugged repeatedly as he tried to categorize neatly where this recent experience would fit into the reality of his life. Often his nightmares were inner reflections of a recent occurrence...more often than not though; they were a reminder of the horrors of his past.

Unable to find any pieces to fit conveniently into his own psychological puzzle, he shrugged away the thoughts preparing himself to meet his day at Section. Stepping out of the shower, drying off quickly, he faced the bathroom mirror now covered with steam. He wiped the steam from the mirror and taking razor in hand prepared his shave......eyes widening at the reflection in the glass. A slightly tremulous hand raised to trace the tender outline of the band of bruises encircling his neck.

***************

Arriving at Section and reverting to mission mode helped clear his mind. Feeling more like himself he arrived at Birkoff's station to oversee the latest Sim's. He came upon the light banter between Nikita and Birkoff, letting a slight smile erupt to encourage their continuance, all too aware of the sudden wave of rigidity his presence often provoked. Responding to his smile Birkoff was the first to speak....... "Hey Michael....whoa......you look like you could use about a week's sleep." This produced another smile from Michael..... this one observed by Nikita to be totally forced. She smiled at the exchange while at the same time taking in Michael's appearance. Birkoff's assessment had been on target. The usually bright green eyes had dulled to a somber gray......lids heavier than normal. Smudges of dark circles beneath them were enhanced alarmingly by the ashen hue of his skin. The black collar of his turtleneck sweater stood in sharp contrast to his pale complexion. Her thoughts to voice her opinion that he was pushing himself and needed to get some rest were interrupted by Madeline's entrance........

Madeline handed a disk to Birkoff explaining briefly the assignment that would be of higher priority than the one he was currently involved in. Then, as quickly as she had arrived she turned to leave, stopping only to state softly over her shoulder....."Michael....I would like to see you in my office."

Three sets of eyes watched Madeline's departure....... Birkoff's reflecting that once again he was being overworked.......Nikita's sarcastically emanating *hello to you too Madeline*. Michael's gaze, unnoticed by all, shone with pure dread.

***************

Madeline had no sooner seated herself behind her desk than the hiss of the powered doors opened.

"You wanted to see me." Michael stated from the doorway, noticeably hesitant to enter fully Madeline's lair.

"Yes Michael.....please have a seat." She smiled.

She stared at the young man, noting that his intentions were to remain standing, and with continued silence she conveyed that their conversation would not begin until he did as she bade. With a sigh Michael glided smoothly into the chair opposite Madeline. He immediately realized this meeting was not mission related, or Section related for that matter, and the feeling of apprehension enveloped him. Madeline had spent years chipping away at his psyche and much to her dismay more often than not all attempts had essentially failed. Only Michael knew that in all actuality Madeline had often hit home. He managed to appear unaffected by her probing, but the truth of the matter was that frequently he had felt bruised by their encounters......often obsessively ruminating for days on end her observations of his psychological make-up. He was content keeping everything bottled up inside......had managed to split himself off from his dark half and the fact that this other side of him often emerged in his dreams was something he had learned to cope with. That was of course until now........

Madeline observed Michael's obvious discomfort "Michael....it appears you are having some problems sleeping." His lack of response went unnoticed as she continued.... "Are the nightmare's increasing?"

Michael thought about her question and for once was able to answer it truthfully...."No."

"Michael.....I want to help you. Obviously you are no where near fit for field duty....you're exhausted. She paused here, not looking for a response, simply taking the time to assess her accuracy of the statement. "We can discuss this here or we can head over to Med Lab......Your choice." She sat quietly waiting for his answer....... sure that she would win this particular battle of the wills knowing his aversion to MedLab. Michael opened his mouth in the beginnings of speech, closed it again to gather his thoughts before speaking..... Madeline smiled in anticipation of her small victory.....the smile fading quickly at Michael's words......

"Madeline.......what do you know of the supernatural?"

************

Madeline didn't answer right away.......actually couldn't. Genuinely stunned at Michael's question, she stared a bit perplexed, and then quickly gained her unflappable composure ....... "Why do you ask?"

"It's not important." Michael whispered.

Knowing Michael as well as she did, Madeline was not about to let him simply drop the subject......... "Is this something you would like to talk about?"

Michael sat perfectly still, eyes cast downward in what could have been taken as the opportunity to gather his thoughts. Madeline knew better, however, and smiled to herself at his attempt to once again block any emotion from her view. His continued silence did not deter her from the issue at hand and she waited patiently for him to speak.

"The nightmares are not the usual ones." He spoke softly. His gaze rose to meet Madeline's and he took note of the brief element of surprise written on her face.

He actually was a bit surprised himself......he wanted......no needed......to talk to someone about this. That these were not his usual nightmares was an understatement......and he would have kept this inside had it not been for the fact that his nighttime turmoil had progressed with physical characteristics.

"In what way are they different?" Madeline asked.

Michael sighed deeply... unable to find the words.....

Madeline watched his struggle with sympathy...... opening up to someone about one's personal intricacies was a difficult task for anyone...... for Michael it was virtually impossible. Noting again his fatigue she thought best that they continue after he got some much-needed rest..... "Michael, we can talk again later.... right now I want you to get some sleep." She reached into her drawer pulling out the slim black case that Michael had become too familiar with...... "No dreams...... I promise." She rose from her chair and walked around to Michael....... lifting his arm from the chair indicating he should follow. Heading toward the couch he briefly thought to argue with her then relented. With gentle persuasion Madeline pressed down on his shoulders...... first he sat and then lay down into its soft contours. He watched as she withdrew the prepared syringe, tied the rubber tubing around his biceps, and injected the serum. He felt the warmth flow through his veins, accepted the instant relaxation of his muscles. Lids closed with the sudden weight and just before the blackness claimed him slightly parted lips murmured.... "No dreams."

Madeline watched his slide into oblivion, remaining there until she was sure deep sleep had been obtained. She had been there for him during some of his more trying times.....The loss of Simone....his son...... though never really considered herself help. Michael had essentially dealt with these losses in his own way......... Madeline simply observing his repression. She had never considered his emotional repair a healthy one...... knew that his chronic nightmares were a manifestation of his conscious mind's inability to deal with the hardships. The human part of her longed to truly help him....to bring forth his fractured psyche and re-assemble the pieces..... The Section Operative, however, would not allow this....... Emotional health not necessarily being a prerequisite for the job...... and Michael did the job well. She stared down at the sleeping young man and wondered if his walls were finally crumbling to the point of non-repair.......

She rose from Michael's side and headed back to her desk. Tapping into her computer's database she immediately began her search for information....... Two topics would be researched....... "Paranormal Processes" and "Abnormal Psychology."

Looking up from her monitor she once again observed Michael as he slept.......... With a measure of guilt she wondered if the true demise of the man he once was had made its entrance..

************

Madeline worked diligently at her monitor, gathering as much information as was available with regard to repression. She had only half-heartedly scanned the data with regard to the supernatural......a genuine smile planted on her face in reading what she considered to be pure nonsense. That Michael had even broached the subject at first surprised her and then after rendering some thought she had become concerned. Michael was one of the most logical men she had ever met......if it wasn't in front of him it didn't exist. It had never even crossed her mind that he would be open to material that was in all actuality a mere hypothesis. He had mentioned that his nightmares had changed and she would probe for more information, but the concern remained......

Repression..... she was sure that this again was the real problem. She read the screen in front of her and coming across one particular entry she paused to re-read and absorb a rather brief explanation that described Michael

Repression:
It can lead to an overwhelming feeling of tension and fatigue,
because a great deal of an individual's energy is required to
accomplish and maintain the expulsion of thoughts and feelings
from conscious awareness.......

She had really known all along that this was what was happening with Michael, but he had always managed to function well and deal with the night terrors that beset him in stages. He would have periods where the nightmares were frequent and intense and then would go in lengthy spans where they would stop. When they had first begun, after the loss of Simone and his son, it was a perfectly normal reaction. As the years went by they gradually lessened and often would stop completely. Suddenly they would arrive in full force and it was at those times when Madeline would analyze current missions and observe, looking for something that would have provoked their recurrence. There never was anything specific to warrant the resurrection of these night terrors and more concerning was that they erupted with such ferocity.

She always knew when they were back. Michael would be even more withdrawn than he usually was; his eyes held no gleam. His posture emanated exhaustion and though he always managed to do the job well the fervent energy was lost.

Hearing the slight stirrings of the sleeping man on the couch broke her line of thought. She shut her monitor and sat back in her chair, giving him time to rise from the drug induced sleep.

Michael rose slowly to a seated position. He gazed about his surroundings, still a bit dazed and eyes settling on Madeline brought immediate awareness. She smiled softly and allowed him to be the first to speak.

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"About four hours....... still not nearly enough but it's a start." She stated.

He rose from the couch, a tinge of embarrassment flushing his cheeks. In retrospect he felt he had betrayed his own facade of the totally resolute man. The simple thought that he had actually hit upon the subject of the supernatural flustered him, not to mention how easily he had rendered himself to Madeline's magic sleep potion......and now here he was..... waking up on the couch in her office...... *merde*

Madeline absorbed the various flashes of emotions on his face, the last one being his blank stare, the mask brought forth too quickly. She sighed with the realization that there would be little if any information pulled from him now. Unfortunately, she would once again have to wait until his defenses were shaken.

She watched as he straightened his jacket and with a soft "thank you" he left.

Michael strode down the hall, relieved that Madeline had let him leave without a continuation of their conversation. Having had the benefit of a deep, dreamless sleep he felt more like himself and now managed to shrug off with confidence the horrible nightmares of the previous nights. Unconsciously he brought his hand up to his neck, telling himself that the bruises there were actually part of the nightmare...... not really there. He lightly palpated the area and feeling sore beneath his touch confirmed that he could not realistically deny their existence. A slight wave of anxiety rose in answer to his final deduction....... that he himself had caused the bruising. The simplest human instinct, self-preservation, was suddenly threatened...... for his new found enemy was a formidable one...... one that could essentially destroy the fragile threads that held him together. With a shudder crawling up his spine he prepared to do battle with himself.

************

Holy men tell us life is a mystery.
They embrace that concept happily
But some mysteries bite and bark
and come to get you in the dark.
_The Book Of Counted Sorrows-

With a token of apprehension Michael entered his apartment. Things at Section were relatively quiet and he had already remained there well past the completion of his work. The sleep he had had was not totally restorative, the after effects of the medication leaving him somewhat weak. Not ready to attempt slumber he proceeded to pour a glass of wine and turn on the stereo. Now ensconced in the comfortable leather chair that remembered his form he lay his head back willing away the twinges of trepidation. Bringing forth his inner strength he managed to dismiss all thoughts, anxiety fading away. The combination of the soft melody drifting from the stereo and the wine lulled him into gradual tranquility and sleep soon followed.

Although the soft contours of the chair provided comfort he awoke two hours later stiff from remaining in the same position. He rose; stretching limbs, and walked to the stereo to power it off. Remembering the empty wineglass he returned to the small table beside the chair, retrieved it and headed to the kitchen.

It began......

The temperature plummeted, accompanied instantly by the odor, which came this time in its vile form.....No gentle transition. He froze in place trying desperately to calm rapid breathing, each breath drawing in the putrid aroma, magnifying the nausea with each inhalation. The sound began softly as if from a far away place......increasing in volume and pitch.....growing grotesque and horrifying as it grew closer. His rational mind argued that he was dreaming, trapped in a nightmare, and that all would be ok........but his fear did not lessen. His heart beat with a pounding ferocity, pumping blood too quickly, head throbbing with the pulsating rush. Green eyes blazed in mixture of confusion and terror. He felt it.......unseen hands grasping his shoulders forcing him back into the wall.....the wineglass he held toppling to the floor....vaguely aware of its crash upon impact. The sound of the glass breaking brought with it a return to reality and he ceased the struggle. He succumbed to the hands that held him against the wall and remained still.......fought to bring up the shields that would protect him.....using the same technique he had unfortunately used too often during torture sessions.......and he waited.

The room quieted, the horrendous wailing fading......then gone. He felt release from the hold that pressed him into the wall. Gradually his breathing slowed, the fear lessening. He stood unmoving, eyes shifting through the darkness to take in the familiar surroundings. The odor wafted through the air, still there yet not as strong. A shiver ran through his spine......his body's first indication of the cold temperature of the room.

It was working.......the shields he had built to suppress emotions he didn't want to deal with...or couldn't....had been his savior once again. Releasing himself from the wall he took a step.......a step which led him directly into the forceful grip of his unseen nemesis. As if his weight was meaningless he felt himself lift from the ground, feet dangling in mid air........abruptly thrown like a rag doll......landing with traumatic force onto the edge of the coffee table.....rolling to the floor. He lay there stunned......breathing quick short breaths in answer to the pain screaming through his ribcage. Curling into a protective ball he lay there, aware only of the pain....and his own shaky voice whispering a desperate plea........*Michael.....Wake up.....Please wake up*.........

************

"What may I ask is going on?" Operations huffed. He felt his anger rise but quelled its eruption when taking in Madeline's expression. She smiled softly yet he could see a deep-seated concern in troubled brown eyes. He sighed .....taking a deep breath he changed his tactics..... "Madeline......is there something going on with Michael that I should know about?"

"He's on his way in now." She avoided the question.

"Yes......over an hour late.......and the fact that he looks like hell lately hasn't gone by me." Operations stated.

Madeline didn't acknowledge his observation immediately. She knew him well. In the past....when Michael's *episodes* had emerged....Operations had avoided the whole situation. He depended on Madeline's expertise in the realm of psychology when it came to interrogations and such.....but when it was used in a clinical fashion....to help someone such as Michael....she knew to him it was really just mumbo-jumbo. His disappointment in Michael was profound on these occasions and during these times he would virtually ignore the younger man and rarely if ever asked Madeline any questions with regard to treatment or prognosis.

Her reverie was stunted when Michael walked into the room....

He walked in slowly......posture hunched forward. His skin glistened with sweat making the ashen color all the more pronounced. His breathing was audibly ragged, short gasps accompanied by a shudder that shook his entire frame. Glassy green eyes met briefly with Operations and then shifted to Madeline. There within their depths she saw a mixture of pain and fear........

Madeline rushed to his side, grabbing his arm to lend support and was mildly surprised that he allowed it........leaned into it in fact...... and then in a jagged whisper he said the words that emanated sheer hopelessness..... "You can't help me this time Madeline."

Operations stood perfectly still, secretly horrified that before him stood his protege, his planned successor, unraveling before his very eyes. This initial thought faded, however, when he saw Michael's eyes flutter with impending unconsciousness. He rushed to help Madeline aid in his support, arriving just short of Michael's descent to the floor. Turning back toward his desk to press the intercom demanding help from Med Lab, he watched as Madeline cradled Michael's inanimate form and his previous regard of the Operative transformed to concern for a friend.

************

But is there really something far more horrible
than ever could resolve itself into reality,
and is it that something which terrifies me so?
Katherine Mansfield

Michael awoke to the bright lights and sterile decor of Med Lab. He closed his eyes against the glare and slowly brought his hand to rest gently over the throbbing ache of his ribs. Sensing her presence he turned his head on the pillow and opened his eyes.....as was expected he came face to face with Madeline. Not one to mince words she went straight to the point..... "You have three fractured ribs..... would you mind telling me how this came about?"

He didn't answer.

Undaunted Madeline continued....... "The bruising around your neck appears to be a bit older than this recent injury." This she said as she lightly traced the mentioned area, taking note of the now yellowish tinge representing healing. "Would you care to elaborate?"

Again, Michael maintained his silence.

She turned to leave....... "Get some rest....... when you are released from Med Lab you will report to my office." She continued to walk from the room then hesitated. She turned back to face him briefly...."We WILL talk then." and then she left.

Michael closed his eyes. Ordinarily the mere thought of facing Madeline's psychological probing would set him into a tailspin of dread. Long ago he had come to the conclusion that the best way to handle emotions that wreaked havoc with his conscious mind was to seal them off in a hidden place. In his opinion this was a satisfactory solution. Oh, he knew that people viewed him as cold and calculating.....had even overheard several people in Section refer to him as a machine...... so be it. He had in effect shielded those around him from his dark half........protected them as well as himself. Now.......things had twisted out of his control.......his dark half breaking through the barriers. If he were the one to suffer this confrontation then he would face the consequences....... but God help anyone who got in the way.

He would speak with Madeline......but in his heart he felt the time had come to end the suffering of his walk through life......and face the abyss of torment he knew waited for him in death.

************

Once again Michael had left Med Lab against medical advice. Lying there with tormenting thoughts had provoked him leaving even sooner than he had felt was appropriate. Moving slowly through the halls of Section en route to his meeting with Madeline he was acutely aware of the eyes that followed him. All wondered what non-mission event had landed him in Med Lab......no one would ask......except of course for Nikita. He saw her determined approach and braced himself for a conversation he was not ready to have.

"How are you feeling?" Her lips curved in an obviously forced smile, concern written all over her face.

She stared at him with raised eyebrows, daring him to use his standard *I'm fine* knowing full well she could tell that was not the case.

He altered his response..... "I've been better."

She waited; giving him the benefit of expounding on his current condition and how it came about...... then caught herself.....after all, this was Michael she was talking to. With a slight roll of her eyes she continued .... "How were you injured Michael?"

Taking a deep breath, and then immediately regretting it for the pain it caused his ribs, he simply said.... "It's a long story."

Nikita looped her hand through Michael's arm "I have time."

This brought a soft smile to his face. He looked into her bright blue eyes and felt a sense of comfort. She stood there representing all that he wasn't and he silently chastised himself for not allowing a part of her in......... wondering if even a small part of her compassion and light would be effective in vanquishing a significant portion of his inner demons. But he couldn't risk that his darkness wouldn't extinguish her light..... "Unfortunately I don't.... I'm on my way to Madeline's office." He gently ran his fingers over her hand that still sat on his arm and walked away.

"Michael." She called out.

He stopped and looked back at her, seeing all her emotions......fear, concern, caring....shine through her eyes. He wanted to go to her, hold her, be held by her and in that moment all other thoughts faded....... "Can I come by tonight?"

She smiled.... "I'll see you tonight."

He continued on his trek to see Madeline. A sudden wave of guilt washed over him with the knowledge that he would bring Nikita into this, that she could possibly see a part of him that could destroy them both. His eyes shone with tears threatening to fall......he needed her now more than ever. Standing outside Madeline's door he punched in the code and just before entering whispered.... "I'm sorry Nikita."

*************

Ah! what is not a dream by day
To him whose eyes are cast
On things around him with a ray
Turned back upon the past?
E.A. Poe

"Ok, let's talk about your interpretation." It was becoming difficult for Madeline to maintain her profession-detached demeanor. It had been two grueling hours, one of the most frustrating and non-enlightening sessions she had ever been privy to. She stared at Michael as he sat, posture flowing with inflexibility, personification of a statue.....unmoving... isolated. But his eyes......his eyes betrayed him.....for in their green depths she could see beyond his indifference. Without words Michael had responded to some of her dialogue. When questioning the subject matter of the nightmares she had witnessed a glimpse of fear dissolving quickly into confusion. Broaching the sensitive topic of Simone and his son she had seen anger and sadness. It was, however, when she mentioned the very word that had escaped his own lips two days before that Michael had conveyed sheer terror. The supernatural.

"Michael, you had broached the topic of the supernatural the other day......why?"

She observed his posture slacken considerably, his hands worrying together in an almost frantic fashion.

A significant portion of a successful psychotherapy session was the clinician's ability to observe. This was Madeline's forte. She didn't push.......gave him ample time to assimilate her questions. The main goal was to restore to his awareness the important thoughts and feelings that he had to put out of his conscious mind. When this has been achieved he would be in a position to adapt more effectively and give up the symptoms through which he attempted to resolve his conflicts. In Michael's case, unfortunately, there never really was an attempt to resolve these conflicts....... Repression was his coping strategy. The symptoms now had obviously evolved into a self-castigation of a truly physical nature. She was concerned....yes.... but professional intrigue was getting the better of her. She did so love a challenge.

Michael finally spoke....softly. He was obviously in pain......pain from the physical trauma melding with emotional pain. His words were detailed and few, describing in short matter of fact sentences what would have taken the average person a considerable amount of time to portray. He spoke of the odor, the sounds, the feeling of total helplessness in a struggle that did not have the feel of the dream world. He spoke of what terrified him the most......that it felt real.....that he was awake.....and that he was alone. Initially grasping for an outside entity.......a being he could wage a fight against, had led him to the absurd notion of the supernatural. The truly logical side of him had squelched this obvious reaching as soon as the words had left his mouth days ago.

He ended his concise repertoire.... "Section has taught me to fight....to manipulate....to deceive. It has taught me to be the man you see before you now. But, it failed to show me how to accept that man. Someone once said "the real Michael would disgust me I'm sure."........He paused here......"they were right......you know"......his eyes cast down to the floor and he whispered again..."they were right."

*************

Loneliness can dominate and reach within the soul,
To cover up the unshed tears and keep within its hold,
The joys of death, the aches of life, and beauties go unclaimed,
By all who are afraid and weak, to loneliness is chained.
Chris Costner

A physically and emotionally drained Michael arrived at Nikita's apartment. He stood in the shadow cast by a single street light needing to rest, to gather what was left of his strength to continue on. His skin glistened with perspiration, ragged breathing belaying the short distance he had walked. He told himself that the pain in his side was what delayed him going forth.......knew though that it wasn't the only reason. He had just left his session with Madeline.........he was tired.....he was confused.....he felt battered.....and the last thing in the world he wanted to do right now was talk. He hesitated.....looking up at the balcony... Part of him wanted nothing more than to go straight to Nikita, fulfilling a need that ached deep inside......the other part of him wanting to seal himself off from her.......from everyone.....from himself.

So, there he stood in the shadows making his decision.......a decision that one way or the other could hold dire consequences.

He wasn't ready......didn't know if he ever would be. The decision made he turned and walked away.

*****************

He wasn't surprised that he had ended up back at Section. This was who he was......where he belonged. Section was a place that ripped the heart and soul from its inhabitants....evil in so many ways....and the simple fact that he found solace there confirmed that they were one in the same. He sat in the soft leather chair in his office, overcome by fatigue......and he slept.

Soft gentle hands roamed over his face.......passing smoothly to shoulders and chest. Michael's moan in response to the sensuality of the touch brought him up from the depths of slumber. He opened his eyes, immediately scanning his surroundings, relaxing considerably when he realized where he was. He leaned back into the chair and closed his eyes..........sleep would not come.....not this time.......

He sensed its presence even before it made itself known. His skin crawled, a sensation that worked its way up to his head....tingling his neck. His mind denied it.......not here....not in Section, but the denial was falsified as the odor impregnated the air. His head swam with the grotesque aroma.......one he now recognized as the smell of death. He gripped the arms of the chair, hands going white with the pressure. His gasping breath escaped in visible puffs of steam when meeting the freezing temperature. The sound soon followed........not as loud yet somehow more terrifying. He felt himself in the grip of strong limbs.......encircling his chest......suffocating him with the pressure. Already fractured ribs pressed inward.......a blinding pain ripping through him. He felt himself entering darkness........wanted to go there but for a rapid knock on the door. Reality hit like a slap in the face......bringing him from the clutches of oblivion. The office was silent.......everything returning to normal.......yet the lingering presence still engulfed him....he could feel it.

The rapping on his door was louder this time.......the door opening without invitation as Birkoff stepped into the room.

Michael stared in horror at the young man.......knowing.....feeling that the evil was still there.....lurking. He jumped from his chair rushing to Birkoff......wanting nothing more than for the young man to not be there......to be safe. He felt his voice rise up in his throat......heard himself screaming.....NOOOOOOOOOO............made it to within inches of the startled young man only to watch in horror as his small frame was slammed into the wall, falling like a rag doll to the floor below.

Michael kneeled beside Birkoff gathering his limp form into his arms. Tracks of tears made their way down his face. His worst fear had been realized.......someone else had been hurt because of him.......by him.

It was time to vanquish the enemy.......the only way he knew......the way he had been trained. He now considered himself acceptable collateral.

************

Birkoff woke in answer to the light slap on his face......one on each side for good measure. He opened his eyes, looking around amused.... "So this is Med Lab." He groaned....and smiling slightly he thought *no wonder Michael doesn't like it*. His eyes grew wide......Michael.....

Seeing that Birkoff was thinking clearly and watching his face transform into a grimace of dismay Madeline went directly to the point. "Birkoff...what happened?"

He reached up to rub the ache in the back of his head. He was confused.....had witnessed Michael in a fit of rage.....but why.......why would Michael attack him? He looked up at Madeline and noticed that she was not of her usual calm demeanor......in fact....if he didn't know better he would actually say she looked a bit frantic.

Despite what Michael had just done to him he still felt a measure of betrayal when he answered her question. "Michael attacked me."

"Birkoff......I need you to tell me exactly what happened.....every detail...it's important" She urged.

Birkoff gave a full description.....reliving it with each word. Madeline listened quietly allowing him to finish......."Birkoff, did you actually see Michael's hands on you?"

"What?" Birkoff was startled by her question.

"Think......you said you saw him come toward you.......said that you felt yourself thrown into the wall......Did you actually see Michael push you?"

Birkoff thought long and hard......yet couldn't understand why her questioning had led down this path. He had told her.....it was just he and Michael in the room....told her all that he remembered. As far as he was concerned anything else was a moot point.

He sighed.... "No."

Madeline gave no reaction. She gently gripped his arm "Get some rest."

Birkoff watched her rush out of the room. He never really understood how some of the minds in Section worked and he wasn't about to try to figure it out now. He closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep.

******************

Madeline clicked off her intercom......her orders had been given through secretive channels. As each team leader was given their instructions she could almost hear the questioning in their tone. Michael was to be found and secured at all costs. He was to be considered dangerous only to himself.....any measure short of cancellation should be utilized.

She knew exactly what Michael's solution would be. Often during the process of extinguishing a diseased organism the host was sacrificed.....Section itself frequently worked upon this theory.....she knew it.....and so did Michael.

Uncharacteristically she began to pace. She was worried.....worried that Michael would succeed in his private mission. The fact remained that the operatives could find him before it was too late.......and her worry increased with the realization that if that happened she honestly didn't know if she could help him. She wondered sadly if she shouldn't just let him handle this in his own way.

*****************************

He waited.........

He had entered his apartment.....walking through the darkened rooms....no need for light. Each step brought shards of pain vibrating through his entire torso. His whole body glistened with sweat, soaking the hair at the nape of his neck. It was impossible to breathe......each effort causing a resonating gurgle. Navigating the few stairs to his lofted bedroom had proven to be a feat not easily accomplished. He stumbled......going down on the first step. He lay there unable to stop himself from moaning with the added agony.

Dragging himself up he leaned heavily against the wall, sliding his body along its smooth support to rise up the final steps. Making it into the room he went straight to the bed....sitting gently....slowly......knowing any additional movement would surely be his undoing. He lay back into the soft comforter giving himself a minute before attempting to pull himself up to sitting......finally coming to lean against the headboard. Still fully clothed he reached into his jacket, removing his weapon. He chambered it with a full clip and then let his arm fall back to the mattress.....weapon still in hand. He felt his strength wane......fought with everything he had the darkness which seduced him. He was a man with a mission. Whether or not the evil he carried with him like a deadly cloak was an outside entity or a part of himself didn't matter.......for truly they were one. He would send it back to hell where it belonged........where they belonged. He raised the gun, bringing it to his mouth......and just before letting his lips close around the barrel he whispered "Come and get me you bastard."

************

Michael closed his eyes......willing all thoughts away.....offering himself......encouraging his foe to make its entrance. It came.

Slowly.

He sensed its presence long before the telltale signs.....could feel it within his core. Closer.......it had to get closer. The air chilled slightly, arriving hand in hand with the foul stench of decay. In spite of himself he was afraid.......knowing that now there would be no reprieve for he was about to enter eternity with the devil by his side.

Something wasn't right. The atmosphere although chilled had not plunged to the freezing depths as before......the odor not as heavy. The eerie wail was softer, as if from a distance. It was waiting.....

Through the silence fine tuned senses heard the distinct sound of footfall. His eyes shifted in the direction of the sound. All signs of his unearthly intruder were gone.......replaced by an intruder of a different nature. He repositioned his weapon in front of him.....taking aim at the empty doorway. His aim didn't waver even as he recognized the two operatives invading his room. They stopped short.......

"GET OUT".....he hissed.

"Michael........ put the gun down......we're not going to hurt you."

"I said get out.........NOW." His arm shook with the weight of the gun......already depleted strength fading further still. He knew there wasn't much time.....could feel that he would succumb to his injuries soon.

The operatives had split from each other.......Michael's gun swinging from one to the other.......hand noticeably trembling. He wouldn't shoot........couldn't......they knew it. One of the operatives lunged onto the bed, twisting the gun from his hand...... the force of his weight crushing into Michael's chest. Securing the gun he lifted off of him....stunned when Michael slumped sideways into the pillows. Both were breathing heavy.

The operative handed the gun to his partner and turned back to Michael....... he could see that he was in pain, but he also saw fear and resignation. Seeing these intense emotions in Michael's eyes touched him..............."Don't worry Michael.....you're safe now."

Before sliding into oblivion he whispered back...."Now no one is safe."

************

"Welcome Back"....Bleary eyes focused on the source of the voice. Madeline simply smiled.

Michael's only response was to close his eyes briefly, open them again and stare back. Madeline was actually quite pleased to see that despite all that had happened, his ability to revert back to his cold demeanor was still there. This was Michael.....silent...yet saying so much. He was angry.....She could see the brief flashes of spark in his eyes.

"You shouldn't have interfered." He stated bitterly

"Your solution was unacceptable." She retorted

Michael closed his eyes. He had to think. His mind went over in detail the events of that night...*which night?... he hadn't asked how long he had been in Med Lab* He remembered the presence being there.....keeping itself distanced. Why? He couldn't be sure whether it had sensed the impending invasion of the operatives........ or worse......had known what his intentions were. It didn't matter now.......his plan would no longer work....it knew. He shifted his weight in the bed aware for the first time of the restraints holding his limbs.

"These are not necessary." He pulled abruptly on the leather constraints.

"For now they stay." Madeline answered.

"How long?" He asked

"That is yet to be determined." She replied.

Michael shook his head ..... "How long have I been here?"

Madeline smiled at her incorrect interpretation of his question...... sometimes he caught her off guard..... "Two days."

He sighed...... "Keeping me here isn't going to change anything."

"You don't know that." She stated softly.

Michael turned his eyes from Madeline's gaze. The conversation was exhausting him. Madeline and he were too much alike.....well controlled. Both had excelled in expressing their thoughts with minimal words, or shading them entirely with no words at all. For her it appeared to be her true make-up, always the observer..... For him it was pure effort. There were times he wanted to voice his thoughts and feelings......always struggling to suppress them.......frequently a task not easily accomplished. He was drained....physically and emotionally........and knowing he would lose the battle he lowered his shields.

Never turning to meet her gaze he began..... "Madeline..... there comes a time when all men must face the consequences of their actions. Going back over the hurts dealt to me.......talking about my losses.....that's not what this is all about.....it wont work.....Not this time. This isn't about the broken man....the one who loved and lost......its about penance. All that I have done has been locked inside for too long....." He paused here, his voice hitching in his throat. His eyes welled with tears......he let them fall.....it didn't matter. "The burden has gotten too heavy."........He turned to face her, the tears flowing freely now...... "Can you understand that Madeline? Every man has a dark side, but its balanced by the good.......I've lost that balance.....there are no longer two halves......the dark side has won......its all that's left of me."

Madeline stood quietly listening.........she understood.

Michael pulled at the restraints again "Please Madeline."

Without a word Madeline released the leather straps holding his wrists.....and brushing away the dampness that tracked down her face she turned and walked away.

************

The inner soul cannot be read,
By just any man,
But by faith alone in those we love,
And those who understand
-Chris Costner-

He headed home.......or at least that is where his mind led him.......his heart had different ideas.......

Nikita heard the distinctive rap on the door. She had visited him in Med Lab.....and even though he was unconscious during her visit she could still see the suffering in his face. His forehead was furrowed in stress......his eyes although closed had fluttered consistently.......seeing something that was his alone to see. She headed toward the door preparing herself for the encounter. She wasn't going to take his silence. She would not accept his evasiveness. No, this time things would be different.......He was going to emote if it killed both of them.

She opened the door ready for battle................

One look. That was all it took. One look into his eyes and she knew all of her emotional preparations were for naught. He didn't need for her to be Madeline......didn't need to be probed for answers to questions that would in effect shatter what was left of him. What he needed was there in his eyes......... a plea for something even he didn't understand. He needed a friend.

No words were spoken. Gently she took his hand and led him up the stairs to her bedroom. Michael stood there beside the bed as if in a trance........not aware of Nikita's removing his jacket or urging him with slight pressure on his shoulders to sit. She left him sitting there as she went to the night stand, lighting three small candles which gave a soothing glow to the room. Returning back to the bed she knelt beside Michael removing his shoes. She cringed at the soft groan of pain escaping his lips as she gently pushed him down into the mattress. His eyes closed briefly in response to the sharp jabbing ache and she stood over him, waiting for the pain to alleviate. Slowly his eyes opened, green orbs that reflected defeat......shining with pools of tears. He rolled onto his side, slightly trembling arms wrapping around himself in an attempt to provide his own haven of security.

Nikita felt as if her heart was being torn from her chest. With freely flowing tears she joined Michael on the bed, forming her body around his. She wrapped her arms around him tightly. She didn't know what was happening......couldn't fathom what had caused this man who personified all that was strength to shatter before her very eyes. Right now it didn't matter....

"I'm here for you Michael." She whispered.

She felt his hand engulf hers......heard his soft voice filled with anguish...."Be careful Nikita.....Please....Be prepared to protect yourself."

She stiffened slightly......his warning filled with doom. "Protect myself from what?"

"From me."

She held him tighter........trying desperately to absorb some of the anguish that tortured him........something she knew he could not share........... "I'm not afraid."

***********

He rose from the embrace of slumber. He didn't want to wake.....his sleep deeper than it had been in a very long time. He fought it.....his groggy mind resisting the persistent tug of wakefulness. Losing the battle his eyes fluttered open. His gaze wandered over the darkened surroundings trying desperately to acclimate himself. Shaking off the fog still clouding his mind the disorientation lifted. He remembered. He turned his head to take in the sleeping form lying on the opposite side of the bed....blonde hair fanning out over the pillow.....features even more angelic in sleep. He remembered how tightly she had held him.....remembered feeling secure in her arms. Her warmth.....not just of body but of soul....had wrapped around him. He struggled.....trying desperately for some of that warmth to flow past his barriers.....to find a home somewhere within himself. Whether he succeeded or not he didn't know. What he did know was that he had fallen asleep with a lightness of heart that he hadn't felt in a very long time.

Slowly, mindful not to wake the pain in his ribs, he inched himself closer to the sleeping Nikita. He needed to touch her.....wanted to wrap himself around her and feel again the salvation of her soul.

He had forgotten.......

His body stiffened, accompanied by a sharp intake of breath.......searing pain jabbing through him like a knife. It had arrived......no waiting this time.....his senses reeling with the attack. The temperature plunged to depths lower than he had experienced before. The odor was more acrid causing waves of nausea. His own physical response was suffocating.....already shallow breathing coming in desperate gasps. His head pounded with the sound of his heartbeat.....now arrhythmic in frantic gallops....... His mind screamed "NOT HERE".......Please dear God....."NOT NOW."

Then he felt it.......a grip pulling him toward the edge of the bed.....growing stronger as the gap between he and Nikita grew. In panic he struggled.......his mind reeling with worry that his evil companion would strike out once again at an innocent.

No sound......he hadn't noticed before. He couldn't think.......attempts at reason remaining beyond his grasp. He was losing the battle......his whole body gliding over the smooth sheets......slowly.....inch by inch.....toward the edge of the bed.......grip getting stronger....the fight harder. He turned his head; one last look at his sleeping angel before hell swallowed him.......

Gazing at her peaceful form brought a flood of understanding....... There was no sound because darkness did not want to waken the light. The grip grew stronger, pulling him not toward anything...but away.....away from Nikita. He fought harder......reaching out to touch her hand lying softly on her pillow. He couldn't reach.....the distance increasing......fighting harder....his whole body shaking in physical agony. The strain was overwhelming.

Coming to terms with defeat he closed his eyes..... thoughts reaching out to embrace the goodness that was Nikita. His mind dared to block out all the evil to concentrate on the good....he was ready to die but something in him suddenly sensed an urgency to reach out and take part of that goodness with him. His trembling hand once again extended to make contact with the physical embodiment of an untouched soul.

With a different strength he fought again.......bridging the gap slowly. As he grew closer the entity weakened.....the fight becoming easier. Fingertips touched lightly the delicate hand resting on the pillow and all that was darkness fled into the night.

He brought himself closer to Nikita folding her into his arms. He knew now that there was really only one true way to rise above the darkness. This time Nikita had provided the essence of light.......but he would have to find it somewhere within himself. He sighed deeply wondering if it was too late.

For now he had won the battle.............

For now.

************

She woke; arms wrapped around her pillow.......the persistent ring of the telephone causing her temples to ache. She reached out to grab the phone...eyes still closed...knocking various items sitting innocently on the nightstand to the floor.....*shit* ........... "Yes?"

"Josephine."

Startled by the feminine voice she stammered....."I'll be right there."

Her gaze went to the now unoccupied side of the bed, the impressions of his body still patterned in the sheets. Immediately the worry and the fear nagged at her. She had expected to wake up to find a sleeping Michael lying peacefully beside her.....thought that what she gave was what he needed. Fearing she had been tragically mistaken caused a sudden surge of guilt. Finding him gone would not have set her into quite a dither.....that was classic Michael....in obvious despair one minute.....effective operative the next. What worried her was Madeline's voice bringing her in.

Dressing frantically she shoved her hair into a haphazard ponytail and flew out the door.

*********************

Her uneasiness grew as she entered Madeline's office. Rather than finding the older woman seated at her monitor engrossed in work, she found her standing by the bonsai trees, staring at them as if waiting for an answer to some question she had asked. Her concentration was great and Nikita's entrance actually startled her. Both women were equally surprised at her reaction.

"Where's Michael?" Nikita asked. Her facial reactions and posture had already spoke of her anxious state.

Madeline didn't answer. She looked back at her arrangement of bonsai's. Nikita allowed her silence, sensing that she was trying to collect her thoughts. There was something very different about the woman's demeanor. Her indifference was gone, rather, there before her was a woman engulfed in concern.

She finally answered.... "Michael's gone."

Nikita froze...... "What do you mean *gone*?"

Madeline sighed deeply...... "I'm not sure myself......at this point both meanings could and may be correct." She slowly made her way over to the chair and sat wearily.

Nikita sat opposite Madeline......"Please....tell me what's going on. You called me for a reason.......I can't help if I'm kept in the dark. I saw Michael last night.....he came to my apartment looking as if he were ready to crumble."

Madeline interrupted..... "He was at your place last night?"

"Yes."

"How long was he there?" Madeline asked.

"I'm not sure.....He fell asleep after awhile and then I must have drifted off myself....next thing I knew you called me in. He was already gone when I woke up."

Madeline held a slight bit of hope at Nikita's statement. After releasing Michael from Med Lab she was certain that his next move would be to end his life. Stopping at Nikita's could mean two things...... that he was looking for help....or that he was in his own way saying good-bye. She wished fervently that it were not the latter.

"Nikita.....Michael left a message in my system." She walked over to her monitor and brought up the file. "Read this and then we'll talk."

Nikita sat in front of the monitor:

Madeline,
I cannot begin to fight this battle while in Section.
The evil that suffocates me now has thrived for too long.....has been
freed by all that I am lacking.
Consider me dangerous,
Do what you must.

Michael

Nikita clicked off the screen. "Tell me."

***********

Nikita sat quietly, intently listening to Madeline's description of Michael's sudden and intense emotional decline. She was horrified when Madeline described his self-inflicted physical injuries......tears running in tracks down her face. Her heart broke with the realization that he was truly a lost soul. Her thoughts went to that time during the war, when a battered and weak Michael had said the words that grabbed at her heart. Her anger and hurt at the realization that she was once again manipulated was unbearable. In reminiscing now she realized that if nothing else he had said one thing he really felt.... she could hear those words now...**"You're the only one of us who still has a soul." ** She never realized that Michael had thought so little of himself. Now, after seeing him last night, and then reading his note to Madeline, she saw that he was tormented by his own persecution. That he had been existing with this horrible sensory overload was beyond her comprehension. Michael saw in himself only depravity......and he had never been given the opportunity to prove otherwise.

She broke away from her thoughts "Madeline.....what do you think is happening to him?"

"I can't really say..... I have several theories but it would take extensive therapy for me to get to the heart of the problem. Michael appears to be displaying a psychotic depressive reaction. Frequently in severe cases this is accompanied by hallucinations, a state in which a person hears and/or sees things that do not exist in objective reality. In it's basic form the depressive reaction occurs as a reaction to a distressing circumstance.......in its psychotic stage it is more severe. Often an actual split from reality will occur and the patient will suffer delusions of guilt and sinfulness. The hallucinations take on the persona of the internal projections." She stopped here......taking time for Nikita to absorb the information, while at the same time trying to convince herself of the diagnosis.

Nikita choked back a sob.... "Can you help him?"

"There's no quick fix for something like this Nikita.......there's therapy, medication, and even quicker and somewhat more effective ECT."

"What's ECT?"

"Electroconvulsive therapy. The treatment consists of applying a rectified current to the temporal area of the brain until there is evidence of a grand mal seizure. After treatment there is a period of temporary confusion but most is recovered within 24 hours. If, however, additional treatments are required, the period of confusion increases. Usually this form of treatment is used in severe cases where medications and therapy would not be effective or in which the person's suicidal tendencies require immediate attention. It has also proven to be effective in breaking the pattern before delusions become firmly fixed." Again she paused. This time a lengthier silence ensued.

"Nikita......given the situation....there is no time for the conventional treatment....my recommendation would be ECT."

Anger stirred in Nikita, and unable to even attempt to control it she lashed out...."Given the situation?......You mean Section.......So what are you saying Madeline....You'll try a quick fix regardless of the turnout? No....of course....there isn't time to really HELP Michael......he's of no use to Section as he is now. So, you'll give it a good old collegiate try and if it doesn't work?.....Then what?.....He's canceled right?"

"The fact that he is renegade at this point puts him at immediate risk of cancellation. Michael knows that........So do you."

"So.....what do you want from me Madeline? Are you asking that I bring Michael in?"

"Yes"

"How can you ask me to do that? What he would face could destroy what is left of him. Hasn't he suffered enough already?" Nikita cried.

"What would you suggest as an alternative?......If Michael is found by Section he dies. At least I am offering him a chance......it may be slim....but it is still a chance."

"Ok Madeline.......I'll find him......but when I do I will make the decision."

"On whether or not to bring him in?"

"No.......whether or not I cancel him myself."

***********

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand-
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep-While I weep!
God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?
E.A Poe

He walked through the park, the fall air crisp against his face. The trees marked the end of autumn, their barren branches reaching out to the clear sky. Fallen leaves crunched beneath his feet, the sound his only companion.. The chilled breeze blew curls of auburn hair across pink tinged cheeks, the rosy color in sharp contrast to the otherwise pale skin. He wandered aimlessly, the beauty of the first signs of Winter's arrival unnoticed. To an unknowing observer he was a man at peace with himself, enjoying life and all it had to offer.

He didn't know how long he had been there. Didn't know why he had come. After leaving Nikita's he had gone off alone, no direction in mind, no destination planned. Most men would have gone in search of himself.....trying to find the pieces of their self-worth in an attempt to start life anew.....to experience life through reborn eyes......to love.....to find happiness. Michael searched for none of these things........no attempts made to resurrect what was never there. He survived primarily on pure intellect......emotions long buried....alive through skill and aptitude.....a machine. Now, the only aspect of the man who was Michael had ruptured beyond repair......his mind joining the crumbled refuse of what once could have been his soul.

He leaned back against a large oak tree, sliding down to sit beneath its whistling limbs. His arms wrapped around bent knees, pulling them into his chest.......the sudden ache in still tender ribs jarring him back to reality. It was then that he heard her approach........

Nikita maintained her distance for quite awhile.....had been watching him for over an hour. His pace had been slow, eyes never veering from the path directly in front of him. She wondered if Michael had ever in his life stopped to smell the roses. When he let himself slide to the ground at the base of the tree she had taken it as a surrender......that he found no reason to go on. She had hoped that Michael was using this time to pull himself together.....had thought that he would be himself again and leave the park having found what he was looking for. She was wrong. Seeing him sit in abdication brought her out from her lurking.

He watched her approach.....then cast eyes downward.

"Michael.....you ok?"

He lifted his eyes yet cast them away from her concerned expression...... "How did you know where to find me?"

She smiled.... "I remembered seeing you here once before....you were going to meet an informant. You looked like you enjoyed it here.......eating peanuts from a local vendor....walking...taking in the sites."

Michael answered her.....a soft yet haunting smile tugging at his features...... "I remember that day in the park." His smile immediately faded..... "She died because of me.....I used her for information and she paid with her life." He relived the moments before the explosion.....his reassurance.....his gentle kiss on her cheek before helping her into the car.....and then in the blink of an eye she was gone. Another innocent life snuffed out simply for having been unfortunate enough to have met him.

Nikita silently berated herself for having reminded him of the unfortunate tragedy....she had at first only remembered how at peace he had seemed while at the park that day. She knelt down beside him........ "Michael.......It wasn't your fault. You can't protect everybody."

"I know that Nikita.......but I can protect them from me." He whispered.

Nikita shifted herself to sit beside him. "I spoke with Madeline."

He turned to gaze at her.....saying nothing.

"Michael......I'm offering you my help." She paused here, grabbing hold of his hand..... "Do you want help Michael?"

Fear gripped her heart....she had meant what she said to Madeline....she would rather take his life than watch him suffer and then meet the same end. Part of her wanted to be selfish.....to keep him alive for herself.....but the part of her that truly loved him would let him go if that was the only way he would be at peace. She unknowingly held her breath awaiting his response.

"I've always fought for what I thought was right Nikita. In Section I have always believed that the means justified the end, that we fought for the greater good. I still adhere to this belief." A stray tear slipped from the corner of his eye..... "We extinguish the evil so that the good will survive.......we must do that again now."

Nikita wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand..... "You're not evil Michael."

He reached out and cupped her face, gently rubbing his thumb over the dampness on her cheek...... "They will come for me......Please.....be with me....help me end it here and now...just us."

"Michael." She reached out to brush the wind blown hair from his face. "Is death the only thing that will set you free?"

He didn't answer right away, stared out at the beauty of the park as if seeing it for the first time...... "I'll never be free Nikita."

He had given her the answer she had waited for.......had unknowingly helped her make the decision that she could not have made otherwise...... "I'll help you."

He reached into his jacket to withdraw his weapon. She gripped his arm...."No Michael....my way."

She reached into her pocket and withdrew the syringe. He gave up his arm freely, green eyes pooled with tears never leaving hers. She administered the injection, watching as the serum took effect. His eyes grew heavy and then fluttered closed, his body slumping forward. She sat holding his limp form, rocking him slowly, sobs wracking her entire frame.

"I'm sorry Michael."

***********

"You did the right thing Nikita."

"I hope so Madline."

The women stood beside the bed, gazing down at the sleeping man the bright lights of Med Lab illuminating the dark hollows beneath his eyes. Heavily sedated he lay perfectly still, deep slow breathing barely causing the rise and fall of his chest.

Nikita lifted his hand into hers.....the leather straps keeping his wrist secure to the mattress..... "I hardly think these are necessary right now."

Madeline gave no response to her statement...... "What made you decide to bring him in?"

"Death won't set him free." She whispered.

Madeline did not question her further......realizing she never would really know what went on between the two. All she knew was that Michael was back in Section....where he belonged.

We will begin treatment shortly. Before beginning the patient is given an I.V. muscle relaxant to spare them the contractions and the throat closure......seeing as he is currently sedated we will have to wait until he comes around.....using the remnants of the serum in place of the relaxants. When he is on the edge of consciousness is the best time to begin.

As if on cue a soft moan was heard from the bed. They observed his slow rise to consciousness eyes struggling to open, succeeding for a moment and then closing again.

Nikita gently smoothed his cheek..... "Michael, can you hear me?"

She waited with trepidation for his eyes to open, worried that her betrayal would shine in their depths. She had come close.....very close...... Reliving Michael's words stabbed at her heart. Everything he said led her to believe that death would be his only release.....that was until he spoke those last words. Michael's revelation of self-hatred was profound.....enlightening her as to the impetus for his actions. He believed that the only meaning to his life was as a harbinger of doom for the innocents who crossed his path. There were times she had actually thought that of him herself. She never realized that with every death......every demise labeled Acceptable Collateral......a piece of him went with them.

Still, knowing this, and for the first time really seeing that Michael was not an empty shell, she was ready to help him enter death's sweet release. His revelation that he would carry all the anguish into the afterlife was what stopped her from giving what he so desperately wanted. Since her arrival at Section she had seen brief glimpses of the good that was a part of him......a part he could not see himself. She would not let him go until she was sure he would take self-worth with him.

And so she waited for him to wake.....and if he saw in her betrayal, then so be it.....

His eyes opened again, in response to her voice. She watched as he struggled for clarity. He met her gaze; eyes at first filled with confusion then clearing with awareness. She did not see accusation in his stare......

"Michael" Madeline's voice startled Nikita from her reverie "We're tying to help.....do you understand?"

Still groggy his reply came as a strained whisper.... "No".....he sighed in resignation and looked into her warm brown eyes.... "but do what you must."

Madeline and Nikita both understood his reply. A simple *No* meaning so much. He couldn't understand their struggle to help him....didn't feel worthy of their efforts. He wasn't accepting their help....but rather resigned himself to the fact that it would be given.

Madeline signaled for the Medical Assistant who wheeled in a tray holding the various tools required for the ECT. The machine itself was wheeled beside the bed, perched ominously close to the unsuspecting patient. Madeline explained to Michael the procedure that was about to be performed. He listened quietly, the only response to Madeline's "shall we begin?" being a slight nod of his head.

Before beginning preparation Madeline glanced at Nikita..... "You don't have to stay....I'll call you when its done."

Nikita crossed her arms over her chest in defiance... "I'm not leaving."

Madeline smiled....she had expected as much.

Nikita watched with a mixture of curiosity and terror. Electrodes had been placed on Michael's temples, held with a Velcro strap across his forehead and around the back of his head. Adjustments were made to the ECT machine and then turning back to Michael, Madeline pulled down on his jaw and inserted what looked like a tongue depressor covered with gauze cross wise and then closed his mouth upon it. Michael remained impassive, the edge of the sedative still weighing him down.

"What's that for." Nikita asked.

"It protects the teeth......the muscles contract with force."

Sorry she asked, Nikita briefly looked away.

"Ok...we're all set.....I just have to adjust the frequency." She turned toward Nikita..... "You sure?"

Nikita nodded her head.... "I'm staying." She hadn't realized she still held Michael's hand until Madeline reached down to separate them.

Madeline turned, made the final adjustment and then powered on the switch.......

It was over quickly...... Michael's entire body tensed, arching up off the bed. His hands curled into fists, muscles rising in definition along his arms. His jaw clamped down on the makeshift bit, lifting toward the ceiling, revealing tightened cords in his neck. The green of his eyes traveled up and back, leaving visible only white. And in what felt like hours but was really only seconds Nikita watched as the completion brought about instant paralysis.....the once agitated muscles relaxing instantly.

Madeline gently removed the bit from his slackened jaw and then with obvious tenderness released the electrodes and its accompanying contraption. She traced her fingers along his forehead........unknowingly trying to smooth the furrows of pain that lingered beyond his slide to unconsciousness.

Nikita's voice trembled...... "What happens now?"

"He will sleep."

"And when he wakes?" Nikita urged.

Madeline's reply was of no comfort........ "I don't know."

************

Madeline entered Med Lab finding Nikita where she had left her 8 hours ago. She was propped in a chair beside Michael. Her head rested on the bed nestled in her arm and even in sleep she still held his hand. Madeline walked to the other side of the bed, not wanting to wake her.

She palpated the strong pulse in Michael's neck; the touch although slight brought him up from slumber. He opened his eyes..... Madeline quite pleased at the clarity in his gaze.

"How are you feeling?" She asked softly.

He thought about the answer to her question and realized he really couldn't say..... "Can I get some water?" His throat was parched and his voice croaked in hoarseness.

Nikita woke. She looked anxiously over at Michael, searching his face with purpose, looking for any sign that would tell her she had made the right choice. He turned his head slowly, meeting her gaze and Nikita's answer came in the form of something she hadn't seen from Michael in a very long time. He smiled. It was very small, a brief upward tug of the corner of his mouth....but a smile just the same. She could barely contain her elation.....but now was not the time to throw herself into his arms and kiss every part of that beautiful face......she hadn't done that before.....it would probably put him into shock if she tried it now. She noticed the bemused look on his face as he tried to decipher what she was thinking and couldn't hold down the slight blush that heated her cheeks.

Madeline returned with the water, holding it for him as he took several small sips.

Nikita began unfastening the restraint on his wrist. Madeline firmly grabbed her hand......"Not yet Nikita."

Madeline turned to Michael...... "We can't know the true success of the treatment until we have observed you for a few days. You will be released when it has been determined any additional treatments would be contraindicated."

Nikita gasped at the mere idea that he would be put through that again. She was about to state exactly what her thoughts were on the subject when she felt Michael's hand encompass hers as he answered Madeline.... "Of course."

*********************

She walked through the maze of hallways leading to Med Lab. It had been three days. During that time she had observed every action......every minor detail of Michael's behavior. He had essentially reverted back to his old self......once again answering her questions with a question.....quietly using one or two word phrases to express what he was thinking. He had patiently sat through her sessions......and she admired once again his stamina. She smiled at her thoughts.... *He's just as frustrating now as he ever was*

She was ready to release him from Med Lab but her uneasiness at his remarkable recovery remained. Nagging at her was the question of whether the ECT had helped or if Michael had handled this once again in the only way he knew how.....Repression. She decided she would watch him carefully.

Madeline glanced at Michael sitting up in the bed, taking note of the return of color to his complexion and the bright green of his eyes. She walked over, saying nothing, and systematically removed the restraints from his limbs....... "You can leave Med Lab......but you will remain at Section. When called upon you are clear for active duty......upon successful completion of your Mission you will be returned to full status."

She turned to leave, stopped and turned back..... "Michael..... One more thing."

He waited for her to speak. She appeared to be organizing whatever it is she wanted to say and Michael, all too familiar with the process of making few words count, gave her ample time to do so.

"Regarding the Birkoff incident.........Do you recall actual physical contact with him?"

Michael's reaction to her question was not nearly as emotional as Birkoff's response to the same question posed to him days ago..... "No."

"Thank you." She gave a smile that left Michael feeling unsettled. He realized why she had asked the question and couldn't help responding with one of his own..... "What did Birkoff say?"

"The same." Her answer was quick and to the point and immediately after responding she turned and walked away.

Michael sat and pondered Madeline's inquiry..... *don't go there Michael*

************

Close your eyes
Just feel and realize
It is real and not a dream
I'm in you and you're in me
It is time
To break the chains of life
If you follow you will see
What's beyond reality
Enigma

*****One Week Later******

Michael sat at his desk completing the report of the Mission. Everything had gone smoothly and he was pleased at his team's effectiveness. With his usual intense concentration back in form he almost missed the slight rap at his door.

"Yes?"

Nikita popped her head in "Got a minute?"

He saved the information on his screen and clicked off the monitor. He sat back in his chair giving her full attention and Nikita taking this as an invitation walked in and closed the door.

"I just wanted to see how you were doing. I know you've been on full status and the mission was successful......but that's not what I'm asking." She had in her introductory statement blocked any attempt from Michael to turn the query from himself personally.

He smiled......*she was getting better at manipulating him*.....

"I'm fine Nikita."

She smiled, her blue eyes sparkling..... "Good.....If you need anything.....You know where to find me." She turned to exit, opening the door, but was stopped by Michael's voice.....

"Nikita."

She met his gaze, seeing gratitude in their shining depths, saying more than his words ever could.

"Thank you."

She smiled brightly..... "Any time Michael"..... and walked away with a lighthearted contentment.

He watched her leave.....relieved when she was out of view. It was difficult now....more than it had ever been.....to keep his mask in place. There in the seclusion of his private domain he let it fall, and beneath it for no one to see was the look of the haunted.

*********Epilogue*********

Michael entered his apartment. He was exhausted yet took the time to once again perform his nighttime ritual. He showered first and then went to the kitchen to pour his glass of wine. Turning on the stereo he headed to his favorite chair and relaxed in its welcoming comfort. He lay his head back....enjoying the soft melody and the fine bouquet still strong on his palate.

He waited.........

For like every night before he would be visited once again by his new found companion. Its visits were less fierce......maybe sensing that he was willing to resurrect the tiny bit of good tucked deep inside...... but it came nonetheless. If he found the light within himself he was sure the darkness would go back to hiding......

If he found it.

He sighed...... Just one more thing to keep hidden.....Just one more thing to bear alone.

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