CHAPTER 4: A Familiar Evil
"John, for the last time, would you not call me that?" said Phoebe in annoyance.
Michael was stunned into shocked silence. Who was this guy, and what gave him the right to call HIS wife 'honey'?
The man said, "I'm sorry. You know I only say it because I care about you."
"That still doesn't give you the right..." started Phoebe.
At this point, Michael decided he'd had enough. "Excuse me for interrupting, but would somebody mind telling me WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?"
Michael's outburst made everyone in the room jump. Phoebe mentally smacked herself for not preparing him for John. She said, "Sorry, baby, I completely forgot to tell you. After your accident, the Elders decided to assign a second Whitelighter to the house. They thought having one sister with a toddler and a second one pregnant would leave us vulnerable, so they sent John down."
"Ok, I could see that. However, why is it that he decides it's ok to call you 'honey'?"
"Excuse me for showing a little compassion," said John. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for her that she couldn't use magic to heal you?"
Michael sighed and calmed down. "I'm sorry I shouted like that. I guess I'm still in shock from this whole mess. How about we start over?" Michael smiled and stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Michael."
"John Bryant," said the Whitelighter, shaking Michael's hand. As they touched, Michael felt a chill run up his spine. Something about this guy felt slightly off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. At that point, Michael noticed something else that seemed out of place. "Where's Paige?"
"Oh, don't worry. She's at home watching Wyatt," explained Piper.
"Good, I just wanted to make sure," said Michael. "Now, would somebody mind getting the doctor? I would really like to get out of this hospital gown."
****
That evening, Piper cooked up a feast that would have rivaled anything she ever cooked at Quake. Michael was hungrier than he'd ever been. Considering that technically he hadn't eaten ANYTHING in two years, it wasn't surprising. The only one who wasn't there was John, who had been summoned as soon as they got back to the Manor.
Later on, after they were completely stuffed with the sumptuous dinner, the two Halliwell wives and their husbands sat together enjoying a nice roaring fire. Phoebe snuggled close with Michael. After sleeping alone for two years, it was doubtful he would be out of her presence very often, not that Michael was complaining.
As a result, Phoebe desperately wanted to make love with Michael. She started rubbing her leg against his and nibbled on his earlobe. She was rewarded with a soft moan from her husband. She shifted position to sit in his lap.
"I need you, Michael," she said. The sentence was a husky demand. Phoebe leaned forward and began to kiss him. Her hands traveled under his shirt and explored his hard muscles. Two years of nonuse had not diminished his strength in the slightest. She started to kiss his neck, and Michael knew that they couldn't stay downstairs much longer before they lost control.
"Excuse us," he said quickly, and Michael immediately orbed them up to their bedroom. Once there, Phoebe pushed herself off of Michael and grinned wickedly at him. "What's that look for?" he asked curiously.
"I just thought you might like to know I'm not wearing anything under this dress," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Is that a fact?" said Michael, pulled her to him again.
"I think we should rectify that," Phoebe purred in his ear, rubbing against him.
Michael fell on the bed, pulling Phoebe down on top of him. They spent the rest of the night making love.
****
Michael woke to the sound of arguing coming from downstairs. He quickly recognized the voices to be Phoebe's and John's.
He sighed in annoyance as he dressed. Ever since he'd come back over a month ago, Michael had gotten the feeling that John was definitely not pleased with his presence at the Manor. He did a good job of keeping to himself. However, John seemed to have finally reached the breaking point on whatever his particular issue with Michael was.
"Are you ungrateful or something?" Michael heard John say as he descended the staircase.
"No, I'm very grateful that you were here," said Phoebe. "I'd be dead from that warlock's attack if you hadn't healed me."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is that I'm married and I love my husband more than anything," said Phoebe. "Therefore, there is no US, got it?"
"You're telling me that you love a half demon freak over me?" John spat defiantly.
"That wasn't very nice."
John jumped; he hadn't noticed Michael on the staircase. "I don't get this. I've spent more time with her than you ever have. I gave her comfort, and she seemed grateful at the time. Now all of a sudden, I have to leave?"
"Your services will no longer be required," Michael said coldly as he came into the living room. "I have the Whitelighter healing touch, so you don't need to be here anymore." Michael turned to walk into the kitchen.
"Fine," said John angrily. Turning to Phoebe, he said, "Enjoy your freak, you bitch." Suddenly, John was slammed against the wall. Michael had reacted with supernatural speed to John's vile words and grabbed him by the throat.
"Don't you EVER call her that again," he snarled. He released the Whitelighter and started to walk to his wife.
"That's right, Phoebe, walk away with your freak," said John. Michael still didn't turn around. "Give me a call when you decide you need a good fuck."
Michael roared in rage. In two seconds he had pinned John against the wall again, but this time he started to crush his throat. Michael could feel the burning rage growing stronger and stronger within him. He hadn't felt this way since he'd faced Damien. Michael looked into the Whitelighter's eyes and watched the life drain out of them. To his surprise, Michael found himself enjoying it.
At that moment, the rational part of his mind pushed through, although it did nothing to suppress his anger. 'I'm ENJOYING choking him? What the hell is the matter with me?' he thought.
It was at that moment that he caught sight of his hand.
His skin was now dark red instead of its normal tan color.
He released the Whitelighter and ran to the mirror...and nearly fainted upon seeing his reflection. The face staring back at him was full of hate. The black eyes seemed devoid of any trace of humanity. Examining the black tribal tattoos etched into his face, Michael suddenly realized what had happened, and the implications were more than he could bear.
He noticed that Phoebe was standing behind him and she had placed a hand on his shoulder. The love emanating from her touch was so strong that he instantly transformed back to his normal self.
Fear instantly gripped him. "Baby, are you ok?" he heard Phoebe say.
"Am I ok?" he repeated incredulously. "AM I OK?!? I just turned into a DEMON for God's sake! NO, Phoebe, I'm not ok!" He backed away from her, fearing that he would hurt her.
"Michael, wait," she said. "I just want to help."
"No, Phoebe, I don't want you near me now, not until I know what this means." Michael ran upstairs to the attic.
Phoebe turned on John in anger. "See what you did?"
"Yes, I just proved my point! He's an evil freak!" shouted John.
Phoebe slapped him very, VERY hard across the face. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she screamed at him. Stunned, John orbed out.
Phoebe ran up the stairs to the attic. She found Michael standing in front of the Book of Shadows in complete shock. She walked around behind him...and froze.
It wasn't until she'd taken a good look at the page he was looking at that she realized that his demonic form was not just similar.
Michael's demonic form was Belthazor.
****
Michael orbed to his family estate. Phoebe had wanted to go with him, but Michael insisted that she stay with her sisters, who were still in shock over the whole thing. Michael had known that tapping into his dark side when he faced Damien would have consequences, but this was just too much for him to handle.
Michael found his mother sitting at the piano. "Mom, we need to talk."
Veraline sighed and walked over to her son. "I know. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to, but I guess it was inevitable." They sat down on a couch. "Coming as close as you did to killing Damien with that fireball stirred the evil within you and brought it closer to the surface. I had hoped that in time the effects of that would subside, but the coma changed all of that."
"That's what I figured," said Michael. "There's still one thing that's bugging me, though. Why is it that my demonic form is Belthazor?"
Veraline sighed again. He deserved to know the truth. She looked into his eyes and said, "Because Cole's mother and I were sisters."
****
A month passed.
It had been quite a shock for Michael to learn that he was Cole's cousin. Controlling Belthazor would be difficult, but Phoebe was hopeful. Michael's case was different than Cole's. Michael had been raised as a good witch; thus, his good nature had overpowered Belthazor before he could kill John.
In the meantime, Michael had finally settled back into his life. Veraline had stepped in while Michael was in the coma and had handled all his affairs at the company so that he'd be ready to step back in. Tom was growing nicely, as was Wyatt. Paige and Glen had gotten back together and were dating exclusively.
On this particular Saturday, Phoebe had been quite exhausted by the events of the week. Michael decided to take Tom to visit his mother at the estate. Paige, Piper, and Leo took Wyatt to Golden Gate Park for the afternoon. Since Phoebe had been so tired, she had elected to stay home.
She spent most of the afternoon dozing on the couch, flicking between TV channels. It was only due to her exhaustion that she didn't sense the hand reaching from behind her that grabbed her throat.
John lifted her clear off the couch and threw her on the floor. Dazed, Phoebe looked up just in time to receive a blow to her jaw. Blood trickled down her mouth from her split lip. "John, what..." she started.
"I'm going to show you how I feel about being rejected for a half demon freak, you filthy bitch," he said. He pinned her to the ground with his body and began to unzip his pants.
"Don't, please don't..." Phoebe begged.
"Shut up!" he snarled, smacking her across the face. "I'm going to fuck you so bad you'll wish you were dead."
"No, oh God, no, no, please...MICHAEL!" John muffled her mouth with his after that outburst as he started to rip her clothing.
****
Tom was happy. His grandmother's embrace was so warm that he couldn't help but coo to her and giggle.
Michael smiled. It was nice to see his mother in this setting again. Tom brought back memories of his own childhood.
Suddenly, Michael felt as though someone had squeezed his heart with a vice.
The sound of Phoebe screaming entered his mind.
Then he saw a vision of her that made him so sick he nearly vomited.
"Oh, my God..." He orbed out without another word.
Tom started to cry. Even the one-year old knew something was deadly wrong.
****
Michael orbed in to a sight that nearly killed him.
Phoebe lay on the floor hugging her knees to her face. She was bloodied, bruised, and battered. Her clothing was ripped.
"Baby, who did this to you?" he asked in a carefully controlled voice.
"J - John," she stuttered as she began to sob.
Michael knelt next to her and held her close. Her body was shaking with fear and trauma. He felt her tense in his embrace, and he grew angry. She was afraid, even in his arms.
The son of a bitch was going to pay.
Michael quickly healed Phoebe's wounds. He kissed her once, gently, on the forehead. Then he said quietly, "Leo."
The Whitelighter orbed in. "Michael, what...oh, God," he said as he caught sight of Phoebe.
"Stay with her," said Michael coldly. "I have some business to attend to."
Before Leo could say another world, Michael flamed out.
****
John sat on a bench in a deserted part of Golden Gate Park. He was very pleased with himself at the moment. No one rejected him for a demon freak and had a happy life afterward. He hoped that Phoebe would never recover, and as a result, never be able to make love to Michael.
"You son of a bitch."
Michael had flamed in so silently that John hadn't even heard him until he spoke.
"How could you do it?" he asked in disbelief. "You're a Whitelighter, a force of good. How could you rape Phoebe?" He was shaking in anger. Belthazor was now just beneath the surface, begging to be set loose, but Michael wasn't ready to let him out just yet.
"Simple, I wanted revenge," said John, sneering at him. "I doubt she'll ever let you fuck her again. And even if she does, every time she'll remember what I did to her. Every time you fuck her, you'll know that I was there, too. Have a nice sex life, Michael."
Michael couldn't take it anymore. He screamed and morphed into Belthazor. Within seconds he'd shoved John against a tree and held him there.
"You realize that by raping Phoebe, you allowed your inner evil to envelop you," said Michael/Belthazor in a deep demonic voice. "As such, you'll likely burn in hell. Allow me to send you there, you FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" With that, Michael punched into John's body and ripped his heart out. He threw John's body into the air and incinerated him with a fireball. Michael reared his head back and screamed in agony and pain.
****
Michael orbed back to a silent, sad Manor.
By this time, everyone had returned. Phoebe had her head buried against Piper's shoulder; her body shook with sobs. Paige sat on the other side of Phoebe, rubbing her sister's back. Glen had come by and was holding Tom. Leo was holding Wyatt.
Glen immediately walked over to Michael. "You can hold him if you want."
"That's ok, Glen," said Michael, patting the other man's shoulder. He leaned over to kiss his sleeping son's head, and then walked over toward Phoebe.
Paige got up from the couch and wrapped Michael in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," she said. Michael held her for a minute, and then released her to go sit where she'd been.
As Michael started to rub Phoebe's back, she winced at first, then turned away from Piper and buried her head against his neck. She cried her heart out in his arms, allowing the nightmare of the rape to pour out of her soul.
Michael didn't know how long he held Phoebe in his arms like that, nor did he care. He realized for the first time how fragile his wife really was. It would take her a long time to heal from this, but Michael was prepared and ready to help. His love for her would be her strength.
No matter how long it took, he would make sure that nothing ever hurt Phoebe again, even at the cost of his own life.
THE END
"John, for the last time, would you not call me that?" said Phoebe in annoyance.
Michael was stunned into shocked silence. Who was this guy, and what gave him the right to call HIS wife 'honey'?
The man said, "I'm sorry. You know I only say it because I care about you."
"That still doesn't give you the right..." started Phoebe.
At this point, Michael decided he'd had enough. "Excuse me for interrupting, but would somebody mind telling me WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?"
Michael's outburst made everyone in the room jump. Phoebe mentally smacked herself for not preparing him for John. She said, "Sorry, baby, I completely forgot to tell you. After your accident, the Elders decided to assign a second Whitelighter to the house. They thought having one sister with a toddler and a second one pregnant would leave us vulnerable, so they sent John down."
"Ok, I could see that. However, why is it that he decides it's ok to call you 'honey'?"
"Excuse me for showing a little compassion," said John. "Do you have any idea how hard it was for her that she couldn't use magic to heal you?"
Michael sighed and calmed down. "I'm sorry I shouted like that. I guess I'm still in shock from this whole mess. How about we start over?" Michael smiled and stuck out his hand. "Hi, I'm Michael."
"John Bryant," said the Whitelighter, shaking Michael's hand. As they touched, Michael felt a chill run up his spine. Something about this guy felt slightly off, but he couldn't put his finger on it. At that point, Michael noticed something else that seemed out of place. "Where's Paige?"
"Oh, don't worry. She's at home watching Wyatt," explained Piper.
"Good, I just wanted to make sure," said Michael. "Now, would somebody mind getting the doctor? I would really like to get out of this hospital gown."
****
That evening, Piper cooked up a feast that would have rivaled anything she ever cooked at Quake. Michael was hungrier than he'd ever been. Considering that technically he hadn't eaten ANYTHING in two years, it wasn't surprising. The only one who wasn't there was John, who had been summoned as soon as they got back to the Manor.
Later on, after they were completely stuffed with the sumptuous dinner, the two Halliwell wives and their husbands sat together enjoying a nice roaring fire. Phoebe snuggled close with Michael. After sleeping alone for two years, it was doubtful he would be out of her presence very often, not that Michael was complaining.
As a result, Phoebe desperately wanted to make love with Michael. She started rubbing her leg against his and nibbled on his earlobe. She was rewarded with a soft moan from her husband. She shifted position to sit in his lap.
"I need you, Michael," she said. The sentence was a husky demand. Phoebe leaned forward and began to kiss him. Her hands traveled under his shirt and explored his hard muscles. Two years of nonuse had not diminished his strength in the slightest. She started to kiss his neck, and Michael knew that they couldn't stay downstairs much longer before they lost control.
"Excuse us," he said quickly, and Michael immediately orbed them up to their bedroom. Once there, Phoebe pushed herself off of Michael and grinned wickedly at him. "What's that look for?" he asked curiously.
"I just thought you might like to know I'm not wearing anything under this dress," she said, matter-of-factly.
"Is that a fact?" said Michael, pulled her to him again.
"I think we should rectify that," Phoebe purred in his ear, rubbing against him.
Michael fell on the bed, pulling Phoebe down on top of him. They spent the rest of the night making love.
****
Michael woke to the sound of arguing coming from downstairs. He quickly recognized the voices to be Phoebe's and John's.
He sighed in annoyance as he dressed. Ever since he'd come back over a month ago, Michael had gotten the feeling that John was definitely not pleased with his presence at the Manor. He did a good job of keeping to himself. However, John seemed to have finally reached the breaking point on whatever his particular issue with Michael was.
"Are you ungrateful or something?" Michael heard John say as he descended the staircase.
"No, I'm very grateful that you were here," said Phoebe. "I'd be dead from that warlock's attack if you hadn't healed me."
"Then what's the problem?"
"The problem is that I'm married and I love my husband more than anything," said Phoebe. "Therefore, there is no US, got it?"
"You're telling me that you love a half demon freak over me?" John spat defiantly.
"That wasn't very nice."
John jumped; he hadn't noticed Michael on the staircase. "I don't get this. I've spent more time with her than you ever have. I gave her comfort, and she seemed grateful at the time. Now all of a sudden, I have to leave?"
"Your services will no longer be required," Michael said coldly as he came into the living room. "I have the Whitelighter healing touch, so you don't need to be here anymore." Michael turned to walk into the kitchen.
"Fine," said John angrily. Turning to Phoebe, he said, "Enjoy your freak, you bitch." Suddenly, John was slammed against the wall. Michael had reacted with supernatural speed to John's vile words and grabbed him by the throat.
"Don't you EVER call her that again," he snarled. He released the Whitelighter and started to walk to his wife.
"That's right, Phoebe, walk away with your freak," said John. Michael still didn't turn around. "Give me a call when you decide you need a good fuck."
Michael roared in rage. In two seconds he had pinned John against the wall again, but this time he started to crush his throat. Michael could feel the burning rage growing stronger and stronger within him. He hadn't felt this way since he'd faced Damien. Michael looked into the Whitelighter's eyes and watched the life drain out of them. To his surprise, Michael found himself enjoying it.
At that moment, the rational part of his mind pushed through, although it did nothing to suppress his anger. 'I'm ENJOYING choking him? What the hell is the matter with me?' he thought.
It was at that moment that he caught sight of his hand.
His skin was now dark red instead of its normal tan color.
He released the Whitelighter and ran to the mirror...and nearly fainted upon seeing his reflection. The face staring back at him was full of hate. The black eyes seemed devoid of any trace of humanity. Examining the black tribal tattoos etched into his face, Michael suddenly realized what had happened, and the implications were more than he could bear.
He noticed that Phoebe was standing behind him and she had placed a hand on his shoulder. The love emanating from her touch was so strong that he instantly transformed back to his normal self.
Fear instantly gripped him. "Baby, are you ok?" he heard Phoebe say.
"Am I ok?" he repeated incredulously. "AM I OK?!? I just turned into a DEMON for God's sake! NO, Phoebe, I'm not ok!" He backed away from her, fearing that he would hurt her.
"Michael, wait," she said. "I just want to help."
"No, Phoebe, I don't want you near me now, not until I know what this means." Michael ran upstairs to the attic.
Phoebe turned on John in anger. "See what you did?"
"Yes, I just proved my point! He's an evil freak!" shouted John.
Phoebe slapped him very, VERY hard across the face. "GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" she screamed at him. Stunned, John orbed out.
Phoebe ran up the stairs to the attic. She found Michael standing in front of the Book of Shadows in complete shock. She walked around behind him...and froze.
It wasn't until she'd taken a good look at the page he was looking at that she realized that his demonic form was not just similar.
Michael's demonic form was Belthazor.
****
Michael orbed to his family estate. Phoebe had wanted to go with him, but Michael insisted that she stay with her sisters, who were still in shock over the whole thing. Michael had known that tapping into his dark side when he faced Damien would have consequences, but this was just too much for him to handle.
Michael found his mother sitting at the piano. "Mom, we need to talk."
Veraline sighed and walked over to her son. "I know. I was hoping that I wouldn't have to, but I guess it was inevitable." They sat down on a couch. "Coming as close as you did to killing Damien with that fireball stirred the evil within you and brought it closer to the surface. I had hoped that in time the effects of that would subside, but the coma changed all of that."
"That's what I figured," said Michael. "There's still one thing that's bugging me, though. Why is it that my demonic form is Belthazor?"
Veraline sighed again. He deserved to know the truth. She looked into his eyes and said, "Because Cole's mother and I were sisters."
****
A month passed.
It had been quite a shock for Michael to learn that he was Cole's cousin. Controlling Belthazor would be difficult, but Phoebe was hopeful. Michael's case was different than Cole's. Michael had been raised as a good witch; thus, his good nature had overpowered Belthazor before he could kill John.
In the meantime, Michael had finally settled back into his life. Veraline had stepped in while Michael was in the coma and had handled all his affairs at the company so that he'd be ready to step back in. Tom was growing nicely, as was Wyatt. Paige and Glen had gotten back together and were dating exclusively.
On this particular Saturday, Phoebe had been quite exhausted by the events of the week. Michael decided to take Tom to visit his mother at the estate. Paige, Piper, and Leo took Wyatt to Golden Gate Park for the afternoon. Since Phoebe had been so tired, she had elected to stay home.
She spent most of the afternoon dozing on the couch, flicking between TV channels. It was only due to her exhaustion that she didn't sense the hand reaching from behind her that grabbed her throat.
John lifted her clear off the couch and threw her on the floor. Dazed, Phoebe looked up just in time to receive a blow to her jaw. Blood trickled down her mouth from her split lip. "John, what..." she started.
"I'm going to show you how I feel about being rejected for a half demon freak, you filthy bitch," he said. He pinned her to the ground with his body and began to unzip his pants.
"Don't, please don't..." Phoebe begged.
"Shut up!" he snarled, smacking her across the face. "I'm going to fuck you so bad you'll wish you were dead."
"No, oh God, no, no, please...MICHAEL!" John muffled her mouth with his after that outburst as he started to rip her clothing.
****
Tom was happy. His grandmother's embrace was so warm that he couldn't help but coo to her and giggle.
Michael smiled. It was nice to see his mother in this setting again. Tom brought back memories of his own childhood.
Suddenly, Michael felt as though someone had squeezed his heart with a vice.
The sound of Phoebe screaming entered his mind.
Then he saw a vision of her that made him so sick he nearly vomited.
"Oh, my God..." He orbed out without another word.
Tom started to cry. Even the one-year old knew something was deadly wrong.
****
Michael orbed in to a sight that nearly killed him.
Phoebe lay on the floor hugging her knees to her face. She was bloodied, bruised, and battered. Her clothing was ripped.
"Baby, who did this to you?" he asked in a carefully controlled voice.
"J - John," she stuttered as she began to sob.
Michael knelt next to her and held her close. Her body was shaking with fear and trauma. He felt her tense in his embrace, and he grew angry. She was afraid, even in his arms.
The son of a bitch was going to pay.
Michael quickly healed Phoebe's wounds. He kissed her once, gently, on the forehead. Then he said quietly, "Leo."
The Whitelighter orbed in. "Michael, what...oh, God," he said as he caught sight of Phoebe.
"Stay with her," said Michael coldly. "I have some business to attend to."
Before Leo could say another world, Michael flamed out.
****
John sat on a bench in a deserted part of Golden Gate Park. He was very pleased with himself at the moment. No one rejected him for a demon freak and had a happy life afterward. He hoped that Phoebe would never recover, and as a result, never be able to make love to Michael.
"You son of a bitch."
Michael had flamed in so silently that John hadn't even heard him until he spoke.
"How could you do it?" he asked in disbelief. "You're a Whitelighter, a force of good. How could you rape Phoebe?" He was shaking in anger. Belthazor was now just beneath the surface, begging to be set loose, but Michael wasn't ready to let him out just yet.
"Simple, I wanted revenge," said John, sneering at him. "I doubt she'll ever let you fuck her again. And even if she does, every time she'll remember what I did to her. Every time you fuck her, you'll know that I was there, too. Have a nice sex life, Michael."
Michael couldn't take it anymore. He screamed and morphed into Belthazor. Within seconds he'd shoved John against a tree and held him there.
"You realize that by raping Phoebe, you allowed your inner evil to envelop you," said Michael/Belthazor in a deep demonic voice. "As such, you'll likely burn in hell. Allow me to send you there, you FUCKING SON OF A BITCH!" With that, Michael punched into John's body and ripped his heart out. He threw John's body into the air and incinerated him with a fireball. Michael reared his head back and screamed in agony and pain.
****
Michael orbed back to a silent, sad Manor.
By this time, everyone had returned. Phoebe had her head buried against Piper's shoulder; her body shook with sobs. Paige sat on the other side of Phoebe, rubbing her sister's back. Glen had come by and was holding Tom. Leo was holding Wyatt.
Glen immediately walked over to Michael. "You can hold him if you want."
"That's ok, Glen," said Michael, patting the other man's shoulder. He leaned over to kiss his sleeping son's head, and then walked over toward Phoebe.
Paige got up from the couch and wrapped Michael in a tight hug. "I'm so sorry," she said. Michael held her for a minute, and then released her to go sit where she'd been.
As Michael started to rub Phoebe's back, she winced at first, then turned away from Piper and buried her head against his neck. She cried her heart out in his arms, allowing the nightmare of the rape to pour out of her soul.
Michael didn't know how long he held Phoebe in his arms like that, nor did he care. He realized for the first time how fragile his wife really was. It would take her a long time to heal from this, but Michael was prepared and ready to help. His love for her would be her strength.
No matter how long it took, he would make sure that nothing ever hurt Phoebe again, even at the cost of his own life.
THE END