Fifteen minutes later, she had left the college and had successfully pulled her blue VW bug onto the road. The cops had arrived just seconds after she had reached her vehicle, but she wasn't surprised in the least bit when one of the squad cars pulled up in the parking lot, and two uniformed officers immediately got out to question who she was and what she was doing there. Thanks to her injuries, she had enough of an alibi for them to believe that she was the victum trapped in the fire, but despite their insistence for her to stay to let the medics check her out and tend to her wounds, she still refused. Her excuse was that she was tired and just wanted to go home, in addition to being able to take care of herself. They were hesitant but understood and let her go.

The other squad car had successfully caught up to Victor and James before they had a chance to leave, but much to her astonishment and infuriation, the officers didn't seem that suspicious of them. She had watched them for a few minutes from inside her car, but just as she suspected, the fact that his sorry ass had been injured seemed to make him less of a threat to them. At least at the moment. She wished she could have been up close to really find out what they were saying, and what they were going to do to him. Hadn't Courtney told them who had done this to her? Now that she thought about it, even if the cops did recognize the son of a bitch or if Courtney had clearly conveyed how much of a threat he was, they probably wouldn't suspect him of being responsible for all this. Aside from his injuries, who knows what kind of bullshit story he could feed them, and James would probably cover for him too.

It pissed her off that he might have gotten away, again, but in order to prevent him following her home, she had to leave the college before he did, leaving her to wonder whether he'd been let off the hook or taken back to the police station for questioning, maybe lock-up for the evening. Ha, yeah right, fat chance. That would be a miracle, if ever it happened. The evil bastard was just too damn good, too damn clever. He was sneaky and if he had managed to stay out of jail all these years, he probably had the power to keep it that way.

As the tears continued to stream down her cheeks, she reached into her back pocket and pulled out her cell, flipping it open and immediately dialing up Courtney. She wasn't surprised at the first words that left her friend's mouth after she'd picked up on the first ring.

"Oh my God, Amy! I'm so glad you're...you are okay, aren't you?"

She sighed wearily, sniffling softly. "Aside from being in a lot of pain, yeah, I'm okay. I'm alive at least, which was my goal anyway."

"In a lot of pain? Oh my God, how bad is it? What happened to you?"

"It's not that bad. I guess it could be worse. Everything in my body hurts. I feel like I've been hit with a ton of a bricks. My muscles ache, I've got bruises everywhere, I think my ankle is sprained, I've got two big cuts on my throat, and I've breathed in so much ash tonight, it's still hard for me to breathe."

Now it was Courtney's turn to sigh. "Oh my God. Well did you even stay to let them take care of you?"

"No."

"What? Okay girl, seriously, you need to go to the hospital. You sound terrible."

As much as she didn't want to admit it, Courtney was right. It was a lot harder to drive with a hurt ankle than she thought it was, but aside from the throbbing pain, she was able to manage. However, with all the other pain running through her body, she felt like she had been hit with a ton of bricks. "I can't. I don't want to. I just want to go back home and lie down."

"Why not? Look, you can't take care of yourself, and Zack's no doctor. He couldn't even take care of his goldfish a couple years ago. You need to go to the hospital. Just let them check you out. It couldn't hurt. I don't want you to die because of what that evil son of a bitch did to you. I almost lost you a few days ago, and I don't want to lose you again. Please, just go. I can meet you there in ten minutes. We'll go in together, it'll be okay. Come on, Amy, please go."

A few more tears rolled down her cheeks. The fact that Courtney cared so much about her warmed her heart. Aside from the little squabbles they got into every now and then over the stupidest things, she still seemed to treat her like the little sister she never had. Neither one of them had been born with a sister, but in a lot of ways, their friendship was a lot like the heartfelt sisterhood they both lacked. After a long hesitation, she finally gave in. "All right, I'll go. I'll meet you at...the community hospital downtown."

"The same one that Michael used to work at?"

Her heart constricted painfully in her chest at the mention of her ex-boyfriend's name. "Yeah...that one," she replied quietly.

"All right, I'll meet you outside the ER in ten minutes."

"Okay."

After exchanging good-byes, she flipped the cell closed and returned it to her back pocket, but not before changing her ringer settings. If Courtney called her back for some reason or another, she wanted to hear it was actually her calling and not someone else. Making a U-Turn in the middle of the street, she headed away from Zack's apartment and in the direction of the hospital. She didn't really want to go to the hospital, but what other choice did she have? Bringing one of her hands up to her face, she wiped the tears from her eyes with the knuckle of her index finger and sniffled softly. She stole a glance in the rearview mirror, and although she scowled back at her own ash smudged reflection, that wasn't what she was looking at. After a few seconds of checking her rearview and side mirrors, an allieviated sigh escaped her as she came to the conclusion that she wasn't being followed. There was no black Porsche in pursuit of her. Good, at least that evil asshole appeared to have learned his lesson, if only for the rest of the evening. Or what was left of it anyway being that it was nearing midnight.

In an effort to get her mind off of the previous events of the evening, she turned on her XM radio just below the dashboard. The Flight 26 channel was playing the Timbaland and One Republic collaboration song, "Apologize." After about thirty seconds, she started to sob and quickly found herself tuning to the Cinemagic station instead, which was playing an orchestrated segment of John William's score to Memoirs of a Geisha.

For the next few minutes, the tears continued to stream down her cheeks. She had to continuously wipe at her eyes since her tears kept blurring her vision and making it harder for her to drive. Driving with a hurt ankle was one thing, but she didn't need to get into an accident and get even more injured because of her emotional state. By the time she pulled into the hospital parking lot, she had successfully managed to compose herself and wasted no time in finding a parking near to the emergency room. She spotted Courtney's nightfire red hardtop mini cooper about one row away from the entrance, in a parking facing the street, and pulled into the vacant space two cars down to her right.

After putting her car in park and shutting off the engine, she flipped open the overhead mirror and finally took a look at her reflection head on. Her hair was a tangled mess, and even though her whole face was smudged with ash, her own tears had left thin trails behind on her cheeks, her naturally creamy skin barely peeking from beneath them. The blood from the cuts on her neck had dried up, but had left a couple trails of their own behind, running from the center of her neck to her collarbone. God, she was lucky she hadn't bled out in that classroom. Looking down at her hands, she noticed they too were covered in ash, and there were a few thin cuts and scrapes on the tops of them in addition to the purple bruises around her wrists. Her gaze fell to her lap and she started to cough as the stench of brimstone drifted up into nostrils, entering her lungs. Her whole body seemed to reak of it and her jeans even had a couple holes in them. More than likely from the shards of broken glass pricking her skin when she'd dove out of the window.

Feeling the tears threatening to fall from her eyes, she sucked in a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself but quickly found herself coughing again. The sheer task of taking in a breath seemed like an effort in itself. She had to get out of that car! She needed air. Now! Flipping the mirror closed, she opened the door and exited the vehicle. The fresh night air smelled so much better than it did in her car. Her nose caught a faint aroma of vanilla and roses drifting in the light breeze. After making certain she had locked her car, she shoved her keys back into her pocket--thanking God she had left them there since before she even arrived at her class--wrapped her arms around herself, and walked towards Courtney's car.

Almost immediately did her friend exit the car and dash towards her, concern written all over her face. "Amy!" She came to a halt suddenly, giving her the full once over. "Oh my God. Come here girl." She stepped forward, immediately pulling her into a loving hug. "Are you okay?"

Her arms willingly found their way around her friend, the sheer action alone warming her heart. After the night she'd had, she really needed it. Despite how hard she tried to prevent them, a few more tears managed to roll down her cheeks. "No," she whimpered. "Do I look okay?"

Courtney rubbed her back reassuringly. "It's okay, it's okay. You're going to be okay. We just need to get you inside so they can get you taken care of."

She nodded against her friend's shoulder, her eyes falling shut as she buried her face in her shoulder. "Okay."

"That son of a bitch. Did the cops even catch him?"

After a couple seconds, she gently pulled back and wiped the tears from her eyes. Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "I don't know. I didn't stay long enough to find out. I just wanted to get out of there before he followed me, but as hard as it is to believe, I don't think they seemed that suspicious of him or James."

Courtney blinked, her brows furrowing incriminatingly, "what?"

"Yeah. I was watching from my car and it seemed like that to me."

"Why not? That prick has suspicion written all over his arrogant, I'm-too-hot-for-the-world face."

"Because I kicked his ass, what I could of it anyway."

Courtney's eyes lit up, a smile suddenly tugging at the corners of her mouth. "You what?"

Despite her pain and all that had happened, a small smile still managed to appear on her face. "I said I kicked his ass. I gave him a black eye, possibly a broken nose and shoved my knee into his crotch a bunch of times."

Courtney's jaw went slack, a delightful giggle suddenly escaping her as she threw her arm around her neck. "Oh you go girl! Seriously, you have no idea how proud you've just made me!" She pulled her along as they started walking towards the emergency room entrance. "You finally gave that asshole what's coming to him and without my help, I might add. You are a rockstar."

"Or an ass kicking chick, like you wanted me to be."

"Definitely," she agreed with a chuckle, but glancing down at their feet, her featured suddenly turned grave. "Your ankle still hurts, huh?"

She nodded her head sadly, "yeah, and from all the running I did trying to get away from that asshole, it just made it worse. I'm hoping and praying that the cops found some reason to believe he was the one who started the fire, but as manipulative an asshole as he is, he could easily use the injuries I gave him to his advantage and I know he would. I'm hoping he'll wind up in jail tonight, but after what I saw...I really don't think that's going to happen."

Courtney sighed deeply, shaking her head in disbelief. "He will. One way or another. I've talked to my dad's friend at the police station, and he told me he's going to see what he can do. He'll pull some strings, start digging through old case files and stuff like that, and he'll get someone on his ass soon."

"Really?" She looked up at her friend, an ounce of hope filling her heart as they started up the narrow inclined walkway towards the emergency room doors.

"Damn straight."

In an effort to make herself look as presentable as she possibly could--which wasn't much right now--she combed her fingers a few times through her hair. "Well, if he can finally find some way to put that evil asshole behind bars, he'll be my hero."

The automatic doors of the emergency room parted and the two of them stepped inside the brightly lit building. Even with it being a Thursday night, the place was still bustling with activity. Doctors and nurses alike were darting from one direction to the other, shouting orders at one another while tending to sick and injured patients that were laid up on gurneys past the front receptionist's desk. Phones rang in continuous succession, patient monitors and machines beeped and hissed faintly off in the distance, tiny babies cried loudly in a chrous of wails and whines off to the left where the waiting room laid. The waiting room itself contained eight rows of wooden arm chairs with brown leather seats, adjoined back-to-back in a comfy, square and spacious area with decorative plants and abstract paintings hanging on the walls. For it being near midnight, sixty percent of the waiting area was already full with men, women and a few children.

"Damn, I didn't think it would be this busy," Courtney remarked, wrapping her arm around her shoulders and glancing down at her in concern. "If it'll help you walk, you can lean on me, girl. It's cool, I don't mind."

"Thanks, it would." Tossing her arm around Courtney's neck, she leaned towards her and continued walking forward, putting the weight on her good ankle as her friend led her up towards the front receptionist desk, though not really sure on what it was she was going to say. How could she explain what had just happened to her without throwing Victor into the mix? "I don't know what the hell I'm going to say." She whispered to her as they approached the desk.

"Just let me handle it, I got your back." She reassured her, turning her focus on the petite, twenty something, and blue-eyed blonde that stood behind the receptionist's desk answering the phones. The girl's hair was pulled up and held in place by what looked like chopsticks, and her ensemble could be considered more business-slutty, than casual. Waiting until the blonde got off the phone, Courtney greeted her with a short and simple, "hi."

The blonde raised her gaze at the sound of her voice. "Can I help you?" Her eyes darted from Courtney to her, a concerned scowl instantly appearing on her face, "are you okay, sweetie?"

Rather than answer her, she cast her gaze downward with a scowl, trying to take in a good breath of air, but her respirations were shallow. Why couldn't she just stay outside in the fresh air? Sure, the hospital might be air conditioned but what good would that do?

Courtney stole a glance over in her direction, "no, actually, she's not. I mean, you can see that, can't you? Look, my friend nearly escaped a burning building tonight and she got pretty banged up from it too. She needs to see a doctor right now."

"It's really hard for me to breathe," she added, knowing from experience that they would make it their top priority if that were the case.

The blonde nodded her head affirmatively before turning away from the desk, casting her eyes to the people around her, "okay, let me just get you a doctor--"

"Wait!"

Amy abruptly turned her head in her friend's direction, her brows furrowing inquisitively. Wait? Wait for what?

The blonde turned back around, gazing expectantly at Courtney. "Yes?"

"You wouldn't happen to know if Michael Brentwood still works here by any chance, would you? He's a doctor and he generally works down here in this department. Have you seen him around?"

The woman's brows furrowed questionably. "Michael Brentwood? I'm not sure. Why do you ask?"

Her eyes widened in astonishment. Quickly grabbing a hold of Courtney's arm, she leaned in to whisper in her ear. "What are you doing? I didn't come here to see Michael. I came here for help. I can't see Michael. Besides, it's been over three years, we don't even know if he--"

Courtney gasped, her eyes suddenly lighting up in recognition, "Michael!"

Amy's heart skipped a beat. Could it be? No, it was impossible, wasn't it? She couldn't honestly have seen...? Pushing down the huge lump that had formed in her throat, she slowly turned her head back to the receptionist, her own breath catching in her throat when saw who now stood behind the blonde. Michael. It really was Michael! In the flesh, and just as she remembered him.

He was clad in a brown shirt, black slacks, and his usual long white lab coat with a black stethoscope draped over his shoulders. His short wavy brown hair looked to be a couple inches shorter than it once was, but aside from that, he still looked like the same old Michael. He was still slim, with a moonlike and baby-face, round and wide hazel eyes, wide mouth with full pink lips and with that same tender smile upon his face. However, that smile quickly vanished once they locked eyes with one another, his brows instantly stitching together in the highly concerned expression that replaced it.

"I am so glad to see you." Courtney told him, just before glancing over in her direction. She looked like she was about to say something else, but before she got the chance, Michael dashed around the reception desk towards them.

"Oh my God. Amy, honey, what happened?" He brought his right hand to the side of her face, brushing some of the ash off of it with the pad of his thumb before scrutinizing the cuts on her throat. "Were you in some kind of a fire?"

She started to look down at her feet, if only to keep him from seeing the tears in her eyes, but Michael quickly lifted her chin back up, reassuring her that it was all right and insisting that she let him continue examining her wounds.

"Yeah, she was," Courtney replied softly. "Back at the college. There was a fire."

Amy shot her a look of warning, hoping to God she wouldn't mention Victor, or even the fact that she had an abusive and homicidal ex-boyfriend. There was no telling what Michael's reaction would be, and the last thing she wanted to get from him was a lecture.

"How big of a fire?" Michael inquired, taking both of her hands in his and examining the cuts there, letting the pad of his thumbs run gently over the tops of her hands. The action alone was enough to cause her heart to race.

"It was just in the one classroom," she interjected. "I managed to escape, but...obviously not unharmed." She sighed softly, her respirations growing increasingly more shallow as she stood there.

Quickly nodding his head in understanding, he slipped his arm around her waist and proceeded to lead her in the direction of an exam room, "all right, well let's get you checked out." He looked down at her in concern as she started walked alongside him, "you don't sound like you're breathing so good. Are you having trouble breathing, honey?"

Courtney fell in-step on the opposite side of her, looking over at the two of them with a scowl.

She gently nodded her head. "And my ankle hurts too. I don't know if its sprained or twisted or what, but it hurts."

Reaching out, he grabbed a fresh chart off of the adjoining reception desk, stealing a glance back down at her. "I imagine it does, I can see you're limping. If you need to lean on me, go right ahead, it's all right."

And that was just what she did. Well, for the remainder of the short trip to the exam room. After passing by the waiting area, a couple patients lying on gurneys, Michael opened the door to the second room on the left side of the hall. A small sign outside the door read: "Exam Two."

"Right in here, honey. Come on in. Let's get you up on the gurney."

She allowed him to lead her the rest of the way into the room, which contained two gurneys that sat along the right wall, each one positioned beside its own heart monitor. A gray granite countertop with a stainless steel sink, and matching laminate cupboards sat on the left side of the room. The walls were white and the floors were grey linolieum. There was already a overhead florescent light illuminating each gurney so there was no need to turn any lights on. Those lights combined illuminated the room with a warm glow. When they approached the gurney, Michael took the liberty of scooping her up into his arms and setting her on top of it. She gave him a small smile and was about ready to lie back, but when she saw him set the chart aside and take his stethoscope from behind his neck, she decided against it and let him do his job.

"All right, let me just get a quick listen to your lungs."

She nodded her head, sitting still and quietly as he proceeded to do so, taking a few deep breaths when he instructed her to do so. Courtney walked over to the gurney on the opposite side of the room and hopped up onto it, leaning back on her hands and watching the two of them quietly. A minute later, after Michael had listened to her heart in addition to her lungs, he told her she could lie down. She willingly obeyed him, sighing softly as soon as her head hit the comfy pillow and crossed her right ankle over her left.

"Well, your heart sounds good, but your breathing sounds a little shallow," he walked around to the left side of the gurney, pulled out a clear thin tube from beside an oxygen tank and turned back to her, slipping the tube into her nostrils, around her face and above her ears, "so what I'm going to do is put you on two liters of oxygen, just for a little while until you start breathing a little better."

"Okay," she nodded in understanding, watching him as he turned the knob on the tank and immediately felt the oxygen flowing up her nose and into her lungs.

He gave her a reassuring smile before returning to the opposite side of the gurney. "I'm just going to check your vitals and then we can get to your injuries." Taking the blood pressure cuff from the cart to his right, he proceeded to wrap it around her left arm and then attached a grey plastic clip to her index finger. Suddenly noticing the bruises around her wrist, he scowled. "Did you get these bruises during the fire tonight too?" He quickly turned his head to look down at her, his brows furrowing in concern.

She exchanged a look with Courtney before gently nodding her head. "Yeah, I must have smacked them against something." She didn't really think he would buy that lie, but telling him Victor had grabbed her in such a violent manner was not an option at the moment.

Michael's eyes shifted from her face to her wrist then back to her face. Sighing softly, he gently nodded his head and let it go, turning back to the machine beside her and pressing a button on it, the cuff suddenly tightening around her arm. While he waited for the machine to finish, he took her temperature.

"So, you're still working here, huh Doc?" Courtney spoke up suddenly. Amy let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in, thanking God her friend had decided to break the unsettling silence that had accumulated in the room.

He removed the thermometer from her mouth and glanced over at her friend with a soft smile and a nod. "That's right. I've been working here for over nine years now. Well, since my four year residency. I've thought about moving a few times, even practicing at a couple clinics here and there, but as long as I've been here, this place feels like home."

"Nine years, damn. I don't see how you do it. I could never stay in one place for too long. I've only been working at Virgin Megastore with my brother for three months now and I'm already getting a little restless."

"Only because Zack's your boss now," Amy interjected.

Courtney rolled her eyes, a light laugh escaping her. "Partly, but I swear, he drives me so crazy sometimes, I can't help but want to smack him over the head. Especially when we're at work, but since he's my boss, I have to learn to keep my hands to myself."

"I'm sure he means well," Michael reassured her, removing the cuff from Amy's arm, placing it back on the cart and picking up her chart to make a few notations. "I can see how it might be hard having your brother as your boss, but I don't think smacking him while you're at work would be such a good idea. You might get yourself fired."

"My brother? Firing me? From a job?" Courtney laughed. "Now I'd seriously have to lay the smack down on him hard if he did that."

Both she and Michael exchanged a laugh. "I'd so pay to see that," she remarked.

"Please, I'd never dream of charging you. It would be free."

After setting the chart down on the white laminate end table beside the bed, he turned and walked over to the foot of the gurney. "All right, which ankle hurts, honey?"

"My right one."

He pushed her pant leg up and removed her boot before he took her ankle in his hands, probing the skin with his fingers, putting light pressure at first. "Does that hurt?"

Her heart beat a little faster at his touch. It had been a long time since Michael had touched her like that, and as much as a part of her, deep inside, did miss Victor's intoxicating and arrousing touch, it was Michael's gentle touch that made her feel like she was the most fragile and precious thing in the world. She shook her head and then he increased the pressure, sending an ounce of pain throbbing up her leg. "Ow! Yes! That hurts."

Letting go of her ankle, he brought both of his hands up in surrender. "It's all right. Just try to relax." Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed softly. "All right, well, I don't think its broken, but we should probably take an X-Ray just to be on the safe side."

"Okay," she sighed wearily, "just as long as I don't have to spend the night here. The less time I have to stay in this God forsaking hospital, the better."

Michael shook his head, walked over to the back counter, retrieved an ice pack from the mini-fridge beneath it and returned to her, placing the cold compress down on her injured ankle. The initial coldness made her jump, but it did ease the pain. "You won't have to spend the night. Trust me, you should be out of here before morning. I don't necessarily think it will take more than two hours, but it all depends on how you're recovering and how long the results of your X-ray take to get back."

"That's a relief."

Turning on his heels, he returned to the counter, stealing a glance over his shoulder at her with a wry smile, "I remember how much you hate hospitals, honey. I wouldn't keep you here unless it were absolutely necessary. Your vitals are all normal. Aside from your difficulty breathing and your possibly sprained ankle, in my medical opinion, I think you're perfectly capable of walking out of here before morning." Turning his attention towards the counter, he began gathering some cleaning supplies in a large plastic carrying case. "I'm going to patch up the cuts on your neck and hands then I'll wheel you down to X-Ray."

"Oh!" She thrust her hips into the air in surprise at the feel of her own cell vibrating in her back pocket, vibrating and playing, much to her unanticipated horror, the Halloween theme. Her eyes darted in Courtney's direction as she reached her hand into her pocket and fished it out. Courtney met her gaze, shaking her head in disapproval, her eyes narrowed slightly in vexation, but definitely not vexation at her. No, vexation at the person, or rather demon calling her.

Holding the phone in her slightly trembling hands, she looked down at the caller ID, even if, technically, she didn't have to. A thumbnail sized picture of Victor stared back at her within the tiny square screen on top with his name above it. Despite her physical attraction to him, staring at that picture of him with that familiar cocky grin upon his face had her grinding her teeth together. Her fingers closed around the object in a tight fist, her blood boiling hot like fire. Her eyes shifted back to Courtney, who, mouthed the words, "don't answer it," following with another but adamant shake of her head.

"For someone who loves Halloween as much as you do, I'm not surprised you have that as your ringtone."

Amy abruptly turned her head at the sound of Michael's voice. He smiled softly as he approached her bedside, setting the plastic carrying case down on the table beside it and pulling up a stool to sit on. She exchanged a knowing look with Courtney, glanced at him and then cast her irritable gaze down at her cell. "Uh, yeah, I guess so."

The phone stopped ringing. Both she and Courtney sighed in relief. Lifting her hips, she returned the cell to her pocket, hoping to God the asshole wouldn't call again. If he knows what's good for him, he better not call again. What the hell was he doing? Using his one phone call from prison to call her? Even if he was, it was pretty pathetic of him to even try to reconcile things with her when she could give a shit less what he had to say. Let him rot, that was what he deserved. Rot in hell for eternity.

"How are you doing?" Michael asked, tenderness and concern filling his eyes. "Any better?"

She sighed deeply, gently nodding her head, but refusing to say anymore beyond that. Better? She would never be feeling better. Not until she had the reassurance that Victor was officially locked up for good.

His brows furrowed inquisitively. "Are you sure? You don't seem so..." His voice trailed off, a troubled scowl appearing on his face.

"I'm fine," she replied with a small smile. "Really, I'm fine, just tired. No, make that exhausted. It's been a long night. Just do whatever you need to do."

He was hesitant but nodded in understanding. "Okay." With a somewhat sad smile, he turned towards the carrying case beside him and began patching up the cuts on her neck, cleaning them first with a wet and soaped up washcloth and then disinfecting them with a q-tip dipped in hydrogen peroxide.

"These look a little deep. Luckily they don't look deep enough to require stitches so you don't have to worry."

She hissed painfully at the sting of the peroxide. "Good."

"Sorry. How did manage to cut yourself in the first place, Amy?"

Her eyes widened in surprise as she tried to formulate some kind of response. "Well, I..." She gasped, her hips jerking at the sudden sound of the Halloween theme and the vibration of her cell. Victor. Her heart fell as she finally came to one remorseful conclusion...he wasn't in prison. The son of a bitch was still roaming the night, as free as a bird, or in his case, a savage beast prowling the evergreens for a midnight snack. She shook her head in disbelief, pulling her cell phone out of her pocket for the second time and gripping it tightly in her hand, wanting desperately to throw it at the wall, or better yet, at Victor's head. From where she was, she heard Courtney mumble what sounded like the words "son of a bitch" under her breath.

"Are you going to answer it, honey?" Michael asked.

Stealing a glance over at Courtney, her friend shook her head as adamantly as before. Exhaling sharply, she shook her head without so much as glancing in his direction. "No." Answer it? Yeah hell she would. So he could what? Trace the call, come track her down and then kill her? No way. She had had enough drama for one night, thank you.

"Wrong number?"

She went to look down at her still ringing cell, but stopped suddenly, remembering that he was still tending to her cuts and instead, kept her gaze upon his face. "Something like that," she replied with a scowl.

He nodded his head as he turned back to grab a fresh q-tip and a tube of, what she could only assume was some type of medicated cream. After squeezing a small amount of the white cream on the end of the cotton swab, he turned back to face her, sighing softly. "Listen, I know that uh...we're not together anymore. I mean, I know I'm not your boyfriend, but I am still your friend. If there's something going on or if you just need someone to talk to, I'm here to listen, anytime."

Suddenly, and rather coincidentally so, the ringing stopped.

"Thanks." Her fingers relaxed against her cell as a soft sigh escaped her. Why the son of a bitch even bothered calling her was beyond her. Would he ever get it through his fucking head that they were over? "I really appreciate you saying that."

He smiled softly. "Of course."

After he applied the cream to both of her cuts, he finished by placing a large bandage over the area. He rose to his feet and crossed to the back counter to retrieve another washcloth soaked in soap and water. As he did that, she flipped open her cell, intent on turning it off and putting it away so he could continue to do his job. The moment she opened it, a dialogue box popped up on the screen, alerting her that she had one new text message waiting for her...from Victor.

Her heart started to pound. Should she look at it? More importantly, what would happen if she did? The saying still rang true, curiosity killed the cat, but either way she looked at it, her curiosity would kill her anyway. Her eyes darted in Courtney's direction. She gave her a skeptical look, almost as if she actually thought she was about to call the asshole. Ha! Yeah, right. Giving her a firm nod of her head, she took a deep breath--glad that she had the oxygen circulating through her lungs to help her do so--and pressed a button, the message instantly popping up onto the screen.

You can't avoid me forever, my sweet.

But come at me like that again

and I'll break your Goddamn legs off!

Her eyes narrowed irritably at the threat. Pushing down the huge lump that had formed in her throat, she shook her head in disbelief. Without giving it a second thought, she quickly typed the words: "eat shit and die, asshole" in response back to him and sent it off. There was no way he could trace her text message, right? As Michael returned to her bedside, she quickly flipped her cell closed and placed it on the gurney beside her hip.

When he sat back down on the stool, she gave him her hands. After giving her a reassuring smile, he began to disinfect her wounds. Her heart constricted in her chest at how gentle his touch was. She wished Victor could be that gentle with her, that he could learn to control his rage, his homicidal and violent tendencies towards her, towards all the other women he'd scarred for life. Maybe then he'd be more like Michael, or at least, more like the man she thought she was falling in love with. Looking down at her hands as he cared for them, a single tear managed to escape the corner of her eye. One glance over at Courtney and she could see her friend was just as melancholy as she was. With her brows furrowed slightly in concern and a deep scowl upon her full and pouty lips, the empathy on her face was clear.

A few minutes later, Michael was finished and asked her if she would sit up so he could listen to her breathing once more. She obeyed without hesitation, but froze suddenly at the sound of the Halloween theme.

"God! Again?" Courtney cried.

"Not again!" She cried, in unison with Courtney.

Michael paused in putting his stethoscope into his ears to look between the two of them, his brows instantly furrowing in bafflement before his gaze fell to the celluar on the gurney. He sighed softly, bringing his gaze back up to her face, his brows drawing together as a somber expression appeared on his face. "You should answer it." She shook her head. "Why? Are you trying to avoid someone?"

She fell silent, her gaze falling to her lap. Taking in a deep breath, her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug as she mustered up the courage to reply. "Kind of."

"I see. Well, if you're not going to answer it, why don't you turn it off, honey?"

Yeah, right, turn it off. Good idea. She picked it up, stared at it for a few long seconds and then put it back down beside her with a shrug. "I'll turn it off later." Truth be told, she couldn't turn it off without actually answering it. A few seconds of silence might not be enough for him to actually trace the call, but she wasn't about to take any chances.

A deep sigh escaped Michael. She scowled deeply, quickly apologizing to him. He assured her that it was fine. She didn't believe it was, but decided not to question him about it.

The ringing stopped and he proceeded to get back down to business. He listened to her lungs, urging her to take a few deep breaths, listened to her heart for a few seconds and then removed his stethoscope a moment later, placing it back behind his neck. Informing her that everything sounded good, he removed the tube from her nostrils and set it aside. She exchanged a look with him, sensing by the apprehension on his face that he wanted to say something, but was holding back for reasons she couldn't understand.

"So now what?" She asked softly.

He sighed softly as he turned to pick up the chart beside the bed and make a few notations on it. "Now, I'm going to make a few notes on your chart, have you change into a gown, and then go get you a wheelchair to wheel you down to X-Ray."

"A gown?"

"It's only for the time being, honey. Just until we get the X-Ray taken." Returning his pen to the breast pocket of his lab coat, he crossed the room to the back counter, opened up one of the cupboards above and pulled out a hospital gown. He returned to the gurney and handed it to her, informing her that she could leave her bra and underwear on underneath and that he'd be back in a few minutes. Giving him a nod of understanding, she and Courtney watched him as he turned and left the room.

No sooner after the door had shut behind him did she grab her cell and flip it open. She placed her thumb over the red button to shut it off but froze as another dialogue box popped up on the screen, alerting her she had a new message from Victor.

"Why does that prick keep calling you? What the hell does he want now?" Courtney asked.

She shook her head without so much as glancing in her direction. "I don't know. He sent me a text message earlier and now he's sending me another one. Just the same old threats, nothing new." Pressing the button to view the message, she sighed deeply, her heart stinging at the words on the screen.

The only one endanger of dying at the moment is you, baby.

"That son of a bitch. So I guess this means the scum bag's not in prison like we hoped he'd be."

"Guess not," she replied quietly before she began typing a response back to him.

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to get the bastard to leave me alone."

Courtney exhaled sharply. "Do you actually think he will?"

"No...but I don't know what else to do. The cops didn't arrest his ass tonight, obviously...all because of me beating his ass and making him look innocent."

"It's not fault. You did what you had to do, okay? Look, it doesn't mean that the cops won't arrest him on another night."

"Yeah, but by that time..." She swallowed hard, her bottom lip quivering with on coming tears. "I might be dead." She sent off her response to Victor's latest text message reading: I'm done talking to you. In fact, I'm done with you forever.

"Don't say that!" Hopping down off of the gurney, she strode across the room towards her as she finally turned her cell off and flipped it closed. "Just stop, all right? Listen, you're going to get through this."

"How?"

"I don't know. All I know is, you can't go back to that class. You can't even go back to valley. He'll find you there. You're going to have to drop the class."

"Yeah." She returned her cell to her back pocket, satisfied with the fact that she wouldn't have to hear anymore reprises of that creepy Halloween theme. "I kinda got that impression when my homicidal ex-boyfriend showed up tonight posing as my substitute teacher." And she made it clear with the sarcasm in her voice.

Courtney sighed deeply, dropping down onto the stool that Michael had been sitting on before and looking up at her with a fierce determination on her face. "Look, you're safe at Zack's place. Unless the bastard follows you, he has no way of knowing you're living there now. As long as you drop that class and get another job, it'll be a while before he even finds you."

"Well obviously I can't go back to Target." She pulled her shirt up over her head and set it behind her, but paused at slipping the gown on when she noticed the many bruises on her arms, from her wrists up to her shoulders. After exchanging a scowl with her friend, who, had clearly noticed them too, she slipped her arms through the gown. "I have to go in tomorrow, but maybe, if I explain my situation to my manager, as much as I really don't want to, they'll understand my reason for quitting."

"Giving them two weeks notice would be better, but we both know that's not an option."

"I know. I don't even know where or when I'm going to be able to get another job after this." Leaning forward, she removed the ice pack from her ankle and swung her legs over the side of the gurney.

"Hey, why don't you come work with me and Zack at Virgin?"

Her brows furrowed inquisitively. "You really think he would hire me? I mean, doesn't he have some other boss higher up in the food chain he has to answer to?" She removed her other boot before she slowly pushed herself off of the gurney, putting her weight on her good ankle as she proceeded to slip her jeans off.

"As far as I know, no, well, not right now anyway. And of course he'll hire you, how can you even ask that? You don't even need to put Target down as a reference. He knows you worked there. He knows all about your situation with that scumbag. He'll want you to be safe too."

She hopped up onto the gurney once more, forcing a small smile. "Okay. I'll have to change my hair. I've been thinking of going blonde and I'll definitely have to wear my sunglasses more often when I go out. If I had the money, I'd even buy a new car, but one thing at a time I guess."

A smirk crept across Courtney's face. "I think you'd look awesome as a blonde, at least in my opinion."

For the first time that night, a genuine smile appeared on her face. "Thanks, I do too."

"It's going to be so great working alongside my best gal pal! Hanging out in the food court on our lunch break, going shopping after we get off work, and joking around with Zack whenever we get the chance."

"It'll definitely be fun."

"Definitely. Oh, by the way, I brought you some extra clothes. They're in my car. I'll get them for you later."

She sighed softly, noticing Michael enter the room with a wheelchair out of the corner of her eye. "Oh thank God, I thought I was going to have to wear those nasty smelling clothes all night. Thank you."

Courtney nodded. "No problem."

"I guess this means you won't be needing those scrubs after all," Michael said with a wry smile.

"Scrubs?" Amy's nose wrinkled in disgust. "Uh, no thanks. I'd rather by stuck in my nasty smelling clothes than walk out of here in a pair of scrubs."

He nodded his head in regard. "Yeah, I figured that, but I guess it couldn't hurt to try." The smile on his face vanished instantly the moment his gaze fell upon her arms. His brows drew together in concern as he stepped around the wheelchair and stepped towards her, scrutinizing the bruises on her arms with gentle fingers. "Did you get these bruises in the fire tonight too, honey?"

She exchanged a look with Courtney, trying to formulate some kind of reply. "Uh, y-yeah. Yeah, I guess so." Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug.

"You guess so? You're not sure?"

Slowly lifting her chin to look up into his skeptical eyes, she shrugged once more. "I fell, when I climbed out the window to escape." Okay, it wasn't a total lie, but it wasn't the truth either. At the moment, it seemed to be the only thing that popped into her head. Her heart skipped a beat as his fingers ran up and down both of her arms in a gentle and affectionate caress, a caress that she could still recall him giving her back when they were together. Those nights when he would curl up in bed beside her and they would watch a romantic comedy together, or the less fortunate nights when she would be stuck in the hospital and he would stay with her until she fell asleep.

Pulling his hands away, he gently nodded, but from the slight furrow of his right brow and the skeptical look still in his gaze, she could tell he was having a hard time believing her. "Do they hurt? Maybe we should get a couple X-Rays of your arms, you know, just to be safe."

"No! Michael, really, I'm fine." She insisted. "They don't hurt. I'll be fine."

He exhaled sharply. "All right." Running his fingers through his hair, he turned on his heels and stepped towards the wheelchair. Placing his hand down on one of the arms of the chair, he glanced over in her direction. "Well hop in. Let's get that X-Ray."

She nodded, pushed herself off of the gurney and dropped down into the wheelchair. Courtney followed the two of them out into the hallway.

"Hey girl?" Courtney spoke.

Michael paused in pushing the wheelchair, both of them turning their heads in her direction. "Yeah?" She asked.

"You guys go on ahead. I'm going to go get those clothes. I'll meet you back in the exam room."

"Okay," she nodded in regard. And with that, Michael continued pushing her down the broad corridor towards X-Ray.

"Maybe you should tell him."

Amy pulled the light pink short-sleeved v-neck knit blouse on over her head, her brows furrowing inquisitively at Courtney as she pulled her hair out of the back. "Tell who what?"

"Michael. Maybe you should tell him about Victor."

Fourty minutes later, after Michael had taken her for the X-Ray, he left a nurse to wheel her back to the exam room, insisting that he had to disappear for a while to care for and check on a few other patients, at least until her results came back. A pang had shot through her heart and a disappointed sigh had escaped her when he told her, but she understood and let him go off to do his job. After all, it was what he did best.

"What?"

"He knows something's up, I can tell and I know for a fact that you noticed it too."

She quickly zipped up and buttoned the brown jeans, bent over to grab her boots and hopped up onto the gurney beside Courtney. "I did notice it, but I can't tell him! Are you kidding me?" She stared incredulously at her. "If he knew all the hell I've been put through, he'd worry ten times more about me than he used to, than he is right now. He'd be distracted day after day worrying about me that he might wind up making a mistake because of it. He could lose his job all because of me!"

Courtney sighed deeply, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "That's because he cares about you, girl. He still loves you. I know he does, I can see it in his eyes. Why not let him help you? Help us."

She rolled her eyes, pulling her pant leg up and starting to put her boots back on. "What are you saying? You can read people now?"

Courtney chuckled. "Maybe, but you gotta admit, I'm good."

Exhaling sharply, she shook her head. "Look, Court, I didn't even want to see Michael tonight, let alone have him be the doctor that takes care of me, and now you're telling me I should unload all my drama on him? I can't, I won't. He loves his job too much. God, he's practically married to it."

"Telling him is not going to make him lose his job."

"What if it does? You don't know that." She finished unzipping her boots and turned towards her friend, resting her left knee on the gurney and letting her other hang over the side. "When I tell Michael something like this, he gets so invested in my life, he wants to make everything better in any way that he can. I don't think he's the type to go after Victor and pick a fight with him, but still, getting him involved in this is too dangerous. We need to keep it just between the two of us."

"Three of us. You forgot about Zack."

"Okay, and Zack, but that's it. I just want to get this over with and get on with my life, or try to at least."

Courtney sighed. "Look, I don't want him to get hurt as much as you do, but what happens if the two of you to bump into each other some place else? He's bound to bring it up again and then what? You can't avoid it forever. You going to have to tell him eventually."

The sound of someone clearing their throat instantly drew their attention to the door.

Her eyes widened suddenly at the sight of Michael. He was standing there in the doorway, his left hand on the handle, the other holding a large golden colored envelope and a chart at his side. Pushing down the lump that had unexpectedly taken form in her throat, she started to wonder just how long he had been standing there. How much had he heard? She couldn't even process the thought.

"Sorry. Am I uh...interrupting something?" He asked with a sheepish and seemingly forced smile on his face.

She exchanged a look with Courtney, but couldn't seem to formulate any kind of reply.

"No," Courtney replied with a shrug and a smirk. "Just girl talk, Doc."

He glanced from Courtney to her and then back to Courtney, nodding his head in understanding, though from the somber expression on his face, she had a feeling he wasn't completely convinced. She didn't blame him. He'd probably heard enough as it was to confirm his suspicions that she was in fact keeping something from him. He turned to shut the door before stepping in front of a square box on the wall, just inside the door. "We got the results of your X-Rays back," he stole a glance over his shoulder at the two of them, before flipping a switch on the side of the box, pulling an X-Ray out of the envelope and placing it onto the illuminated surface. "There's no sign of a fracture of any kind so that's good, but judging by a slight tear in the fibers of your ligaments and how tender your ankle is, it looks like a sprained ankle."

She sighed softly. "I figured that."

Turning away from the lighted box, he looked over at her, his features still as somber as before. "It'll have to be wrapped up in some ace-wraps to immobilize and support it, but other than that, I'd say you're going to be just fine."

She exchanged a small smile with Courtney. "Thank God." Her smile quickly faded, realization hitting her, "but wait, how am I going to be able to drive home with my ankle, especially if its wrapped up?"

"I can give you a ride home," Courtney offered. "I can take your car and then just have Zack give me a ride back here so I can get mine."

"Okay. I guess we could do that." Meeting Michael's gaze once more, a scowl crossed her face. She could see there was something he wasn't saying or wanted to say. She wasn't sure which it was.

Setting the envelope and the chart down on the other gurney, he crossed his arms comfortably over his chest, fixing his gaze on Courtney. "Courtney, would you excuse us for a minute?"

Courtney exchanged a look with her. "Sure." Sliding down off of the gurney, she turned, mouthing the words, "tell him" at her before heading for the door. "I'll go get myself a snack or something from one of the vending machines."

"If you keep going left down this hall, turn left again, there's one past the stairwell to your right." Michael offered.

She paused at the door with a nod of her head. "Thanks."

"Of course."

A deep sigh escaped Amy as soon as the door shut behind her, leaving her in the awkward silence with Michael. She dug her fingernails into the sheet covering the thin padded matress beneath her, pushing down a lump that had taken form in her throat. "Is there something wrong...with me, besides my sprained ankle?" She asked softly. While she had her own assumptions about why he had asked to be alone with her, she didn't want to jump to any conclusions just yet. He might surprise her.

"What?" He crossed towards her, shaking his head and placing both of his hands on her upper arms, staring tenderly down into her face. "No, honey, of course not. I checked your vitals, patched up your cuts, you sound like you're breathing a little better. In my medical and professional opinion, you're good to go."

She let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding in and gently nodded. "Oh, okay..."

"That wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Yeah..." She looked anxiously down at her lap, noticing him drop down onto the stool beside the gurney out of the corner of her eye. "I didn't think so."

He rolled the stool across the floor until he was directly in front of her, and although her gaze was down, she could feel his gaze upon her, but it wasn't an unsettling and chilling one like that of Victor's. In fact, it was the opposite. It warmed her heart and had her stomach doing flip flops. She took a quick peek up at him, scowling when she saw the remorseful look in his eyes. "Amy, what's going on?"

"What do you mean?"

"I feel like you're keeping something from me. I know it's probably none of my business, but I'm worried about you. Ever since you showed up here, I get the feeling that something's bugging you. You were a little distant earlier and you've barely said anything to me since you got here." He sighed deeply. "I mean, I know you've been through a traumatic experience by nearly escaping a fire, but you seem like you've got a lot more on your mind."

"I know."

"Amy? Honey, look at me."

Exhaling sharply, she slowly lifted her chin to meet his eyes, the concern within those hazel eyes making her heart ache all over again, in much the same way it had when they had broken up. It was amazing that he could be so tender and so thoughtful of her after she'd walked out of his hectic life. "I'm looking."

He scooted a couple inches closer to her, placing his hands upon her knees and gazing intently up at her. "Talk to me. Tell me what's going on. I just want to help, all right?"

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest at his touch, but it didn't make it any less easier for her to unload this on him. "I can't tell you."

"Why not? You used to be able to tell me anything."

"Past tense, used to." She cringed, suddenly realizing how insensitive that sounded. "Sorry. I just...I don't want you to get hurt. What I'm dealing with, it's bigger than you think. I don't want to put you in danger because of it. It's my problem and I have to deal with it on my own."

His brows drew together inquisitively. "Danger? Amy, is someone after you?"

She fell silent, instantly averting her gaze downward. A lump formed in her throat as her heart began to pound faster in anxiety. Tears started to form behind her eyes. She bit down on her bottom lip, struggling to keep them at bay.

"The bruises on your arms, the cuts...you didn't get them in the fire, did you?"

"No." She replied, her voice no louder than a whisper as a single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Oh my God." He took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly, almost as if he were trying to curb his own anger. "Is this the same person that's been calling you all night?"

"Yeah."

"Who's after you? Who is it that's hurting you like this, honey? Is it your dad? An old friend of yours? Or is it a person you've never met before?"

"He's an..." She stopped suddenly, not so sure whether or not she had the courage to continue.

"A what?"

Quickly brushing the tear off her cheek, she sniffled softly even as more began to fall. "Ex-boyfriend. Just...recently turned ex-boyfriend. His name is Victor."

A few long seconds passed, but Michael didn't reply, which prompted her to finally lift her chin and look up at him, a dumbfounded expression on his face. "What?"

He blinked, his brows furrowing suddenly in thought. "Sorry, did you say Victor?"

She nodded slowly, though not really sure why he was looking at her like that. A troubled scowl crossed her face, a shiver dancing down her spine.

"What's his last name?"

"Bane. Why?"

His eyes widened in astonishment. "Victor Bane."

The bewilderment on her face grew as her heart pounded faster. "Yeah..." She exhaled sharply. "Why? Michael, what's wrong? Why are you looking at me like that?"

Running his fingers through his hair, he sighed deeply. "Because I happened to know a Victor Bane back in med school."

Her heart fell, her breath catching in her throat. Her eyes widened in surprise, as she opened her mouth to utter some kind of response, but nothing came out. Never, in her wildest dreams would she ever have expected Michael and Victor to cross paths with one another. They were like day and night, good and evil, the hero and the villian, the perfect gentlemen and her worst nightmare. She shook her head. "H-how?" Her voice was no louder than a whisper.

"We shared a couple classes together, during sophomore year."

"Did you...were you...?"

"Friends? No. Far from it actually. We might have said a couple words to each other in class, but other than crossing paths with him in the hall in-between classes, we kept our distances from each other, especially seeing as how we both had our differences, as I'm sure you can imagine."

"Yeah, I can imagine it."

Michael sighed in frustration, taking both of her hands in his and gazing deeply into her eyes. "Listen, Amy, I might not have gotten to know Victor on a personal level, but what I do know, what I've had time to learn about him, is that he's trouble. He's dangerous."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Yeah, I think I've pretty much figured that one out by now," she retorted sarcastically.

He scowled deeply, his brows drawing together considerably. "How long has this been going on between you two? How long has he been hurting you like this? A few days? A week? A month?"

"A few weeks. Three, four, maybe more. I don't know. I've kind of lost track." A couple more tears trickled down her cheeks as she felt him give both of her hands a gentle squeeze. She sniffled softly, her heart constricting in her chest when he brought one of his hands up to her face, gently wiping the tears away with his thumb. A memory of Victor doing the same thing flashed in her mind, but she quickly shut it out, knowing the recollection would only bring more tears and anger. "It's over though. I ended it and I'll never go back to the evil asshole again."

"That's a start, but honey, listen to me," he grasped her hand once again, giving it another squeeze, looking up at her, determination and sadness shining in his eyes, "you need to go to the police. You need to tell them what happened to you, and let them know that he's after you. If you don't, there's no telling what he might do."

"And what if they can't help? I mean, there's no evidence except the cuts and bruises on my body, and unless I have proof that he gave them to me, it's just my word against his. Plus, even if they did arrest him, he's this big huge porn director now, he's got enough money to probably bail his ass out."

"So file a restraining order."

"That won't help. I've heard about people who get those, but it won't prevent him from coming after me. He'll still do it, I know him, better than you do. I know how his sick mind works by now. Plus, he's got his very own partner-in-crime now, literally. Some British guy named James. It's no use. I'm screwed."

Michael sighed deeply with a shake of his head. "You're not. Don't think like that, all right? There's always another way. First thing's first, you need a safe place to stay."

"I have a place. I'm staying with Courtney's brother, Zack. I'm living in his apartment downtown, near Hollywood and Highland. I'm safe there, for now. There's no way he'll look for me there, unless he follows me home. Plus, I'm planning on quitting my job at Target so he doesn't look for me there either. I'll work with Zack and Courtney at the mall. I'm taking precautions, trust me. I'm okay for now."

He nodded, though the way his brows were furrowed in addition to the small wrinkles in his forehead, he was still concerned. "Good, that's good, but at the very least, I think you should file a report so at least they have his abuse on record. He might even have a criminal record already on file."

"Oh, I know he does." She exhaled sharply. "Ever since I met him, after everything he's put me through and everything I know he's capable of, I have a really bad feeling that he's probably raped and killed hundreds of other women before..." Her voice trailed off. Shit! She hadn't meant to dig that deep into the past, but somehow, the words had managed to come out. Too late to take them back now. Quickly averting her gaze downward, she sighed deeply.

Michael froze, staring dumbfoundedly at her. He blinked, his eyes searching her face for some sort of understanding. "Honey...did he rape you?"

"Sort of. It was more of an attempted rape. I was...it's complicated. I don't know how to explain it and I really don't want to."

"You got away."

"Not exactly. I was more...weak than anything. I just...I gave in."

"What?"

She groaned, pulling one of her hands back and wiping at her watery eyes. "I gave in, okay? I was attracted to him, to the part of him that I thought was good and charming and," she paused, taking in a deep breath for an extra boost of courage to utter the next words, "his body. It was his body and his looks that got me through that night, and it was the charming, affectionate nice guy 'act' he put on after that that kept me around so long."

Michael let go of her hands, sighed softly and rolled back a few inches on his stool.

A long and somewhat awkward silence passed between them.

Slowly raising her chin to look up at him, she noticed that he was staring woefully down at the floor, his brows furrowed in thought, almost as if the answers to the questions she knew he undoubtedly had on his mind would be found there. He rubbed his hands together, ran his fingers through his hair a couple times and exhaled sharply. She had never been good at reading people the way that Courtney or even Victor could, but if she had to guess, he wasn't pleased to hear this new information. Was he jealous? Possibly. Hurt? Maybe a little.

"I'm sorry Michael," she added softly. "I don't know what else to say except...I'm sorry."

Bringing his eyes back to her face, his deep scowl remained. "You weren't attracted to me like that?"

Her heart constricted in her chest, and for the second time that night, she wished she could have just kept her mouth shut altogether. "Of course I was attracted to you. You had a gentle heart, you were ten times more affectionate and gentle with me than he ever could be. If you're asking because you're thinking I didn't find you physically attractive, well you're wrong. I did. It wasn't just your personality, Michael. It was everything. The whole package."

Tears started to shine in his eyes as he reached out and took her right hand in his, giving it a soft squeeze. "I'm asking, because I'm trying to figure out what it was he gave you that I couldn't, what you saw in him that made you think you could trust him."

"It was an act. It was all an act. I know that now. I just wish, I'd known that then."

"Did you love him?"

She shook her head. "I thought...maybe for a minute or two. I don't know. I think it was more lust than love. If I was in love, it was with the better part of him. The part I thought was real." A few more tears trickled down her cheek as she gave his hand a squeeze, gazing down into his eyes. "I was in love with you. I've always been in love with you. After all, you were the Leo to my Piper, remember?" She feigned a small smile, referring to the whitelighter/witch couple from the hit WB drama series, Charmed.

He smirked, a tear escaping the corner of his eye as he gently nodded. "I remember. What happened between us, Amy? How did we get here?"

"It was your job. I couldn't..." She paused, holding back more tears that were threatening to fall from her eyes. "You were never around. You always had to run off to help someone, just like Leo. I know we tried making it work, but I couldn't do it anymore."

Michael looked regretfully down at their hands as the tears continued down his cheeks. "I'm sorry. My job is important to me but so were you. I guess I didn't manage my time very well. There were numerous times when I wish I could have been with you, but...I got wrapped up at work."

"I know. It's okay." Wiping the tears away from her cheeks with the back of her free hand, she tried painstakingly to get a handle on her emotions. God, how many more tears could she cry before she emotionally exhausted herself altogether? "Maybe we're better off just staying friends. That way neither one of us will have to get hurt again."

He wiped his own tears away with the knuckle of his index finger, gently nodding his head. "Yeah. Yeah, maybe..."

The sound of the door opening suddenly drew her attention. Courtney peeked her head in, mouthed something she didn't understand and then quietly let herself in just as Michael caught sight of her.

"Sorry, did I come back too soon?" She asked, holding a half eaten Snickers bar in her right hand.

Amy exchanged a look with Michael, sniffled softly and shook her head. "No, you didn't. It's okay."

Michael quickly wiped the tears from his eyes, took in a deep breath and then glanced over his shoulder at Courtney as she neared closer, her thin brows furrowing considerably. "Yeah, we were...just finishing up actually." Letting go of Amy's hand, he pushed himself up to his feet and started towards the counter, "I guess I should get that ankle wrapped up so you can get out of here, huh?"

She cringed, knowing he was just trying to cover up his feelings by going back to his job. After all, he'd done it numerous times before in the past. "Michael, it's okay. She knows, all about Victor and everything."

"He's the devil incarnate, how could I not know about him?" Courtney added with a roll of her eyes, glancing over in his direction, "it's cool, Doc. You don't have to be ashamed to cry in front of me. I appreciate guys who actually have feelings, unlike that cold hearted asshole."

Michael sighed woefully and turned back to face the two of them, smiling softly at Courtney. "Thank you, but I think I'm all right." He turned his attention back to her, nodding his head in understanding, "maybe that's the best thing, but if you ever need me, for any reason at all, I'll be here. If friendship is all that you can offer me, I'll take it, because you mean far too much to me to lose you completely. Even if you or Courtney needs a safe place to stay, my home and my heart is always open to you."

Amy's heart warmed at his choice of words, blinking back the tears in her eyes as Courtney crossed the room to where he was standing, threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a hug.

"Why can't there be more guys like you?" Courtney asked with a light laugh.

Not being able to resist the temptation, she slid off of the gurney and limped towards the two of them, wrapping her arms around both Michael and Courtney. Within seconds, it turned into a group hug as her friend and her former beau wrapped their own arms around her. Michael planted a kiss to the top of both of their heads. Suddenly, she felt whole. Being in the safety of both of their arms, she had not a care in the world. Nothing could hurt her. Not even Victor Bane.

Once she and Michael had both composed themselves, she returned to the gurney and he proceeded to wrap up her ankle. After that, all three of them said their good-byes and she and Courtney left the emergency room. Allowing Courtney to do the driving, she sat in the passenger's seat, staring down at the piece of paper Michael had given to her with his new address and phone number. He had made them both promise to take care of themselves and to keep him updated on the situation, and in turn, she had made her own promise to him. She promised she would make it up to him if he wound up losing his job because he couldn't think about anything else but her safety. He had taken it lightly, assuring her that he'd get by either way and insisting that he'd put her life before his in a heartbeat.

Reaching into the back pocket of her jeans, she pulled out her cell phone, flipped it open and turned it back on. A dialog box popped up immediately, alerting her that she had one new voicemail message waiting for her. Her blood ran cold, her heart sinking to the pit of her stomach. The phone shook in her suddenly trembling fingers. She swallowed hard, her thumb hovering over the "call" button.

"What are you doing?"

She jumped at the sound of Courtney's voice, her celluar slipping out of her fingers and falling to her feet. "Shit!" Leaning forward, she felt around on the floorboard to retrieve the object. "Nothing. I was just going to add Michael's new info to my phone."

"Oh. Okay..."

Grasping her phone tightly in her hand, she sat back in her seat, turning her head to look over at her friend and sighing wearily. "You don't believe me. All right, fine, I was going to do that, but now, it turns out I have a new voicemail."

"Voicemail?" Courtney scoffed. "I've only got one guess who it's from."

She exhaled sharply. "Yeah, me too." Fixing her eyes on the picture of her and Courtney she had set as her wallpaper, her thumb hovered once more over the "call" button, the dialog box still presenting her with the option of doing so or ignoring it. Her curiosity might kill her for the second time, but damn it, she couldn't stand it! Taking a deep breath, she quickly pressed her thumb down on the button and lifted the phone to her ear.

"Are you calling him? Don't call him, Amy! He'll trace the call!"

"I'm not calling him, Court! I'm calling my voicemail to hear what the asshole said."

Courtney fell quiet as she listened to the automated voice on the line for a few seconds. Then, the message began to play. Of course, who else would it be calling her at this hour of the night? Her heart started to pound as Victor's arrogant voice came over the phone.

"Oh Amy, Amy, Amy...my sweet and spunky little Amy. You've done a hell of a job pissing me off tonight, haven't you? While those little punches to my nose and eye might have made me want to rip your insides out, my injuries just so happened to come in handy with the cops. They didn't suspect me of a thing. Doesn't mean you won't pay for what you did to me tonight. You'll pay...eventually. Your actions won't go unpunished, I'll see to that. I don't see what you hope to accomplish by avoiding my calls. No matter how hard you try, you'll never get rid of me. I'm not giving up on us, baby. I'm not going away. Deny it all you want, but I know somewhere deep inside, you still love me. I can be good for you, sweetheart. You've seen it before and Goddamn it, I'm going to do whatever the hell it takes to make you see it again. In time, you'll see we're meant to be together, but if you continue to fight me and further piss me off, you're only going to be hurting yourself...and the people you love. Until we meet again...sweet dreams, my sweet."

The message ended, the automated voice immediately coming back on the line. Gently and slowly, she flipped her celluar closed as fresh hot tears streamed down her cheeks. She sniffled softly, leaned her head against the headrest and shut her eyes, pushing down a lump that had managed to form in her throat. Both her heart and her stomach clenched in pain, a melancholy and frightful pain that knocked the air right out of her lungs. Suddenly, she was wishing she still had that oxygen tube in her nose. She could sure use it.

"What's wrong? Are you okay? What did that prick say?"

She brought her hand up to her heart, sniffled and shook her head. "I don't know." Forcing herself to take a deep breath, she reached out and turned up the air conditioning in an effort to get some air into her lungs. "I don't know what to think to be honest. It sounded like a threat, but at the same time, it sounded like a promise."

"A promise? A promise to do what? Kill you? Kill me? Kill both of us?"

Sighing deeply, she shook her head once again. "No. Not to kill me. To be better for me. To possibly be a better person. I don't know. I don't understand half of what he says sometimes, but I do know he means about ninety percent of it."

"Be a better person?" Courtney scoffed. "What can he possibly do to become a better person? He doesn't even have a heart!"

She fell quiet, opening her eyes and turning to look out the window at the shimmering city lights, the colorful neon glow of display signs hanging behind dark store windows dancing off the glass as they passed by. Brushing a few tears off her cheeks, she sniffled, propped her elbow upon on the passenger's side door and leaned her cheek on her hand. "I thought he did," she mumbled to no one in particular but herself. "Maybe he still does...somewhere deep down."

"Amy! What the hell are you saying? Don't tell me you're actually considering giving that asshole another chance."

"I didn't say that. I just..." She ran her fingers through her hair, rubbing at her scalp. "I don't know. Maybe I just need some time to think about all this for a while. I just need some sleep. I'll be feeling better tomorrow." Hopefully.

"Think about what? What's there to think about? He nearly killed you tonight! If you give in to him, if you give him an ounce of your trust or even your time, he's going to take it for granted again and turn against you. You know that. We both know that."

"Maybe not. Maybe he'd actually keep his word."

"What? Amy! Come on, are you even listening to yourself right now?"

"Yes! I am listening to myself." Furiously wiping the tears from her eyes, she turned in her seat to face Courtney, giving her her undivided attention. "It might sound crazy, but I'm sick of running. I'm sick of being his victum. I'm sick of trying to save myself and you, no offense, and I'm sick of letting him scare me like this. I'm not sure whether I should be fearing for my life right now, or be thankful that he might actually be willing to change...for me."

"Okay, so what are you going to do?"

She brought her hands up to her head, rubbing at her temples and wincing as her head began to throb. A migraine was setting in, quickly. Reaching beneath the seat, she pulled the lever on the side and lowered it a few inches so she could try and rest. Folding her hands over her belly, she turned her head against the headrest to look back in her direction. "I don't know, but you know what? I don't care. If he really wants to change, if he's willing to do that for me, fine. He can go ahead and try, but he's never going to win me back until he learns how to geuninely love and respect me, the way a real man should. Until he shows me he has a real heart inside of him, there's no way in hell he'll ever regain my trust."

"Damn straight."

"I'm moving on with my life, whether he likes it or not."

"You really think this homicidal asshole can change?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. He sure can't change all the criminal things I know he's done before me, and he can't change the fact that he'll always be evil. They'll always be an evil side to him, even if he tries to suppress it to be better for me. I don't know what's going to happen. In fact, I don't even want to think about it anymore. I guess we'll just have to see."