Gail screamed when Michael touched her.

She was strapped on the gurney in Psych Rehab. She struggled furiously against the restraints, trying to escape the hand he had laid so lightly and softly against her cheek.

"Please!! Don't!! Please, Madeleine, I can't do this..."

"O.K., Michael," Madeleine said. "That's enough."

Michael stepped back from the bed, his eyes grim. He had been ordered to Psych Rehab to help with the therapy for a recruit. It had only been a month since the rape. Not all of her bruises had healed, let alone the emotional wounds.

I hate this almost as much as she does, he thought.

Madeleine released Gail from the restraints. The girl curled up in the fetal position, covering her face with her hands. She struggled to regain her breath.

"It's called Aversion Therapy," said Madeleine soothingly. "We'll gradually expose you to, what is for you, frightening stimuli." She paused to smile at her. "It will be done, a little at a time, until you are able to adjust to it..."

Gail wiped her eyes and sat up. "I know what it is, Madeleine. I understand the concept--HERE," she said, pointing to her forehead, "....intellectually, but my guts and my instincts don't care about theories...."

She took a deep breath. "Please, I'll co-operate with the therapists. I want to get past this. I want to heal, but not like this..."

Madeleine paused thoughtfully before answering her. "I'll consider trying something else for tomorrow."

"Thank you," Gail said in relief.

Michael moved to the door, also relieved that his part in things was at an end.

Madeleine's voice stopped his retreat. "No, Michael, the session isn't over." He looked up, questioning. "Stay with her twenty more minutes, then you can leave."

Michael's eyes widened slightly in puzzlement, but he only nodded and said, "Of course."

Madeleine left. Michael turned to look at Gail. She backed away from him on the bed, sitting as far away as she could.

"It's O.K., I won't touch you again. I'm not going to hurt you..." He said softly.

She nodded, and exhaled the breath she was holding. "I know.." She relaxed a little and looked up at him. "Michael, what's going on? What kind of game are they playing with me?"

"It's Aversion Therapy..." He began.

She cut him off. "Aversion Therapy is ...reductionist. It's linear, as Birkoff would say. Do 'A', and the patient will do 'B'." Gail shook her head. "It's too simplistic. She KNOWS everyone is more complicated than that...."

Michael knew she was right. Madeleine's methods were never straight-forward and simple. Nothing in Section One was. Michael looked away from her, uncomfortable.

"I'm sorry, Michael. I guess this must be as humiliating for you as it is for me." She smiled slightly, then suddenly laughed.

"What's so funny?" He said.

"I was thinking you probably haven't encountered many women with an AVERSION to you very often." She grinned.

Michael smiled. "Maybe there were a few..."

"Yeah, right."

"What therapies do you think would help you, then?" Michael asked.

"Why don't they just let me talk to Beth,or one of the other counselors here? Or do something not so threatening?" She paused. "It's not you. It's feeling so powerless and out of control that I can't deal with, not the touching, actually..."

"I feel much better now."

Gail saw that he was smiling at her. She giggled. "Michael, I didn't know you had such a good sense of humor. Most men wouldn't admit that their egos can be damaged..."

Michael lowered his head. Damage. He knew about that. Since Nikita had been lost to him. Since he had made one last attempt to keep her alive. It wasn't his ego that was wounded, but his heart, his soul, his guts, his instincts....

"I did this to you, Michael. I'm sorry. DAMN it," Gail said suddenly.

"What? Did what to me?"

"I've been wondering why Madeleine involved you today, and not one of the therapists. And the only thing I can think of was..." She paused.

"Yes?"

She hung her head, embarrassed. "Madeleine asked me once what I most dearly wanted, above anything else. So, I didn't tell her the truth, that I wanted a family, a real family, free from Section One. I didn't give her a serious answer."

Gail looked up at him and continued. "I said something flippant about all I really wanted was just one night with you, except I wouldn't DARE try anything because Nikita would kick my butt..."

Emotions tore at him, pulling in two different directions. Pain at the mention of Nikita's name, and a thrill of sweetness at this reminder that Nikita had cared for him.

"I'm sorry," Gail said, her eyes sympathetic. He didn't know if she meant for involving him, or for the loss of Nikita.

"It's O.K. It's not your fault."

"It's not yours, either," she said meaningfully, putting her hand briefly on his shoulder. Section One was at fault, she thought. For her rape, for Nikita's death, for everything.

The door opened and Madeleine appeared. "Your twenty minutes is up." She looked at them standing together. "I see you've made some progress."

Gail dropped her hand from Michael's shoulder. "We'll continue this tomorrow. Same time, Michael," said Madeleine.

He nodded at both of the women and left. Madeleine smiled and followed him out.

Gail shivered. The last thing anyone wanted, she thought, was for Madeleine to smile at them.

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

"We'll have your therapy in here," said Madeleine, ushering Gail into the room.

Gail gasped. The gurney was there in the center of the room; this time she was not the one strapped to it. There was someone already there.

It was Michael.

Restraints circled his wrists and feet. Another strap lay across his neck. All were pulled so tight that he was unable to move, or even struggle. He was naked to the waist.

Madeleine smiled at them both.

Gail looked from one to the other in confusion and shock. "What's going on, Madeleine? Why are you doing this to him?"

"I told you we would try a new approach today. This time you won't be helpless or at anyone's mercy. This time you'll be commanding things."

Madeleine urged Gail toward the gurney, pulling her by the hand. "It's O.K." she said. "You can touch him. You can do anything you want with him."

Madeleine took Gail's hand and laid it on the hard muscles of Michael's abdomen, holding it there. "Feel him. Use him. I know you want to."

Gail trembled, the hand touching Michael shaking.

She sobbed. Madeleine pressed Gail's hand down more firmly. "He's totally under your control. You're the one with power here. Enjoy him."

Madeleine released Gail's hand and walked to the door. "I'll be back later," she said, smiling.

Madeleine left, leaving Gail staring wide-eyed at her helpless captive.

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

Gail looked into Michael's eyes and moved her hand up to touch his face. "God, Michael, are you O.K.?"

"Yes," he said stoically. He had his orders and he was going to follow them. "It's all right. Go ahead and do whatever you want...."

"NO! NO, it's not all right! SCREW that!" Gail started working in the buckle of the strap around his neck first, then moved to free his hands. He winced as the blood returned to them, flowing painfully past his wrists into his fingers. She freed his feet and helped him sit up.

Sitting next to him on the cot, she took one of his hands in both of hers, massaging it. Gail shed a tear, this time in anger.

"That sick BITCH! Does she think my being raped turned me into some kind of rapist, too?"

She jumped down from the gurney and paced in front of him. "No, that's not it, is it?" She stopped and looked at Michael. "You told her about what I said about being powerless, about being helpless, didn't you? And this is the sick way she used it..."

"No, I didn't tell her anything, Gail." Michael got down from the gurney and leaned against it, his legs still unsteady beneath him. "It seems an obvious reversal of what happened yesterday.."

She sighed and looked at him. "You're right," she said. "I believe you. How funny, though, for Madeleine to deal in the obvious. I'm surprised at her....surprised that she could be so blatant. She's usually more subtle than this..."

Michael watched her. "You still have the power now, if you want. You still have control."

He dropped the arms he had crossed across his chest to his sides, taking a stance of vunerability in front of her. He knew Madeleine's orders still stood, whether Gail had released him from the restraints or not.

Gail stared at him, her jaw gaping.

"Michael, no, no..." She went to him and hugged him briefly. Stepping back, she said, "No, I'm not going to hurt you..." Then she laughed. "Now, why does that sound familiar?"

"Deja vu, perhaps?" Michael smiled.

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

Gail continued to pace, again growing serious. "Madeleine is wrong about this. Control, power-- that's what rape is about, not sex, and certainly not love..."

Michael was surprised. Love was not a word or a concept that was mentioned much in Section One. He looked at her and asked, "Love?"

She returned his look, then shaking her head, replied, "No, I'm not in love with you, Michael---sorry to crush you this way. I left that to Nikita. But Madeleine may think I am." She paused, then said earnestly,"Love isn't about power trips....except to Madeleine, maybe it is. And that's why she's playing this game with us."

Love and power trips. Hadn't that been what had torn Nikita and him apart? thought Michael. The power trips had driven her away, the manipulations of Section One, the lies..... He had never wanted to hurt her. He loved her. He knew that now. Did Nikita know that? Was she alive somewhere, knowing that he loved her?

"We can't let them win, Michael. We can't let them do this to us..."

"Do what?"

"They want me to vent my anger on you.."

"It's O.K.. You can if you want to. I told you..." His voice held despair and resignation.

Gail was near tears. "I know I CAN, Michael. I can degrade you like I was degraded, I could hurt you, humliate you., but spilling my pain onto you will only increase the damage; it won't heal anything. It's not the solution..."

Michael felt in total accord with her. He realized he could understand what she felt. Raped, angry, cheated, used.... He wanted his own vengance on Section One, wanted to turn his rage on them for what they did to Nikita.

"What is the solution? How are you going to deal with the pain?" Michael asked, hoping she might have an answer for him, too.

She sighed. "Vent it somehow, channel it into doing something positive, using the energy of it in a different direction than more violence. I don't know exactly how, I just know I can't let the anger overpower the love; I can't let the pain destroy me..."

She looked at him, and he saw that the tears she had held back til now had spilled over her eyes to her cheek. She knew that Michael would understand. She knew he had his own struggle with anger and pain. He, too, had been devastatingly wounded.

Gail walked over to him and put her hand on his arm. "Michael," she said softly, " we've got to hang onto our souls, otherwise they win..."

Both moved at the same time to embrace the other. Gail and Michael held each other, both giving and receiving support and comfort.

"No," he said. "We won't let them win."

Gail smiled and kissed him lightly on the cleft in his chin, just as Madeleine opened the door. "Well, I see our new therapy worked." She smiled. It had worked beautifully, she gloated inwardly, having watched them on her monitor in her office for the past hour.

The patient she had really been worried about was Michael. "Thank you for your help, Michael," she said. It was a dismissal.

Michael nodded to Madeleine and then smiled at Gail. He said nothing, but his eyes conveyed his thanks.

Walking down the hall to his office, her words echoed in his mind, strengthening him, dispelling some of his pain. Hang in. Hold on. Hold on to the love.

Michael quickened his pace. Let me try to contact Nikita again, he thought.

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