Author's Note: Welcome to my new story Sound. If you haven't read my story Safe yet, you should probably go do that first if you want to know how we got to here. Sound will be a little different than Safe in a couple ways. Less action and suspense, more relationship angst and exploration of psyche. It shall be rated M for some sexual stuff (I try to only involve sex when it enhances the plot, it is a large part of the story here). Paige's views are going to slip in a little more often then in Safe, so it may seem kind of disjointed. Overall, put up with me as an author and we should have a damn good time. If you don't want to strangle both Paige and Mike (and me) by then end of this story, I haven't done it right.

I sincerely thank you all for the wonderfully kind reviews and messages. It's lovely being part of the little Graceland fan community on here.

"Scream for me, Princess."

And Paige does.

She screams so loud and long her throat burns almost as much as the knife that they are using to slowly carve letters deep in her skin. She didn't want to give them this satisfaction, but as the knife is drug deeply into her leg her screams fill the air as she's helpless but to obey their command.

"That's right. Keep screaming. Scream for your little boyfriend..." Paige can barely comprehend the words through the pain. She doesn't know who or what he's talking about, all she knows is the pain. "...Because I know he's going to scream when he finds what's left of you. Scream his name."

"MIKE!" Paige screams the first name that comes to mind. She screams until the pain overtakes her in a swirl of red and black and she passes out.

Paige wakes up with a start, her heart pounding in her chest. The dream is still vivid in her mind. Not a dream; a living memory that she relives each time she closes her eyes. However unlike all those times she woke up in the cold warehouse to more torture, this time she wakes up to white fluffy sheets. She's in her own bed at Graceland.

The sheets are cool against her skin, but she can feel the warmth of a body radiating from behind her. A large arm, heavy with muscle, is wrapped protectively around her hip, his finger's loosely brushed over the scar she'd been dreaming about seconds before.

She snuggles back against his sleeping chest, trying to envelope herself even tighter in his arms. Even in his sleep, he pulls her closer in an instinctive hug as if he's trying to calm her. She looks around the familiar bright walls of her room and pushes the horrible memories back into their box in her mind where they belong. She won't think of it right now. She's safe in her own room on a beautiful morning, cozily curled up with Mike. He hasn't even done his usual wake up early to go running routine. This is how lazy Sundays should be.

Here in her room, without the overwhelming hospital smell of sanitizers and death, his scent surrounds her. She smiles and breathes in deeply, closing her eyes. Something about Mike's smell is extremely comforting to Paige. He smells like clean laundry, gunpowder, and something else she can't place but that's indefinably Mike.

Here in his arms, she allows herself to slip back into a light, dreamless, sleep.

Mike groggily wakes up in a comfortable bed, his face buried in a braid of gold hair. He's normally a rather light sleeper, but last night he slept like a rock. He doesn't think he has ever slept so soundly. Paige's bed is like sleeping on a grapefruit scented cloud of silk. It's far more comfortable than his own sparse bedding down the hall.

He had meant to return to his own bed last night when they got her home from the hospital, he really had. But it was late, and he put Paige to bed. He laid down with her just in case she needed anything. He was planning on going to his own bed right after she fell asleep. Looking at the current situation, that apparently did not happen.

It is amazing what having a real bed instead of a hospital cot with two people in it will do. The fact Paige is no longer hooked up to wires helps also, and Mike realizes he is fully spooning Paige. His larger body is completely wrapped around hers, every inch of them touching. He worries about her injuries, but the soft rise and fall of her chest pressed against his doesn't indicate any pain.

He doesn't know how late they slept, and doesn't want to move for fear of waking her. As he glances over his shoulder for her alarm clock, he realizes he has a bigger problem.

It's morning.

It's morning and Paige is tucked with her backside firmly pressed against his crotch. He tries to withdraw his arm slowly, to sneak away, but she sleepily mutters an unconscious objection and scoots further back into him, her ass wiggling against him making him even harder, if possible.

Her hair is in his face and smells like grapefruit and flowers. He realizes overnight his hand has migrated dangerously close to her breast, and every breath she takes it teasingly brushes against his fingertips.

"Morning." She mumbles, and Mike holds his breath, hoping there's some way she doesn't feel him pressed hard against her.

"Morning." He says his cheeks coloring.

"Good dreams?" She teases, rubbing her ass purposefully back against his morning wood, and he groans. She definitely noticed.

"It's just the morning." He defends, trying to pull away from her, but she holds onto his arm keeping him pressed to her.

"Mmmm… I'm still impressed." She murmers in a flirty voice, and she has got to stop rubbing her ass against him.

"I should go shower." Mike says shyly, not making eye contact with her as she looks back over her shoulder at him with heavily lidded green eyes.

"Can I join you?" She purrs.

Mike shuts his eyes tight. She doesn't know what she's doing to him. Images of her naked in the shower flash through his mind.

...Her on her knees in front of him, as the hot water drips down his back...

...The way her cries of passion would echo in the acoustics of the small shower even as he swallows them from her lips...

...Her breasts pressed up against the glass as he fucks her from behind…

He's disgusting for thinking of her like this right now. After all she's been through, the injuries, the violations, she's still trusted him to be in her bed, and what does he do? Imagines fucking her like some porn star.

She's not helping these images as she rolls over, wrapping her limbs around him, rocking her body close to his and burying her head into his neck, purring like a kitten. Mike squeezes his eyes tight at the feel of her hips against his, his erection caught between their stomachs and the feel of her breath on his neck.

"Do you always sleep in so many clothes?" She teases, bringing her hand down to pull lightly at his jeans.

"I'm sorry… I wasn't planning on falling asleep here last night. I should have gone to my bed. You probably want some privacy." Mike keeps his eyes trained above her head. If he looks down at those sleepy eyes staring up at him, he'll do something they'll both regret.

"No… I'm glad you stayed. You make a good comfort blanket." She buries her head in his chest, inhaling deeply. Mike bites his lip as the motion causes her hips to rock against his once again.

"Sorry, I probably smell. I should get that shower." Mike says, untangling himself from her and rolling away quickly. He makes sure to stand up facing away from her, so she can't see how hard he is under his jeans.

"You smell fine Mike. Come back to bed." Paige insists.

"I can't stay in bed. I shouldn't have slept as late as I did. Things to do." Mike tries to will his erection to go down, as he babbles to her with his back still facing her. "You need to take your meds and eat. I'll go grab those for you and breakfast. I'm just going to hop in the shower first and then I'll be right back. I promise."

"Fine." Paige huffs, seeming pissed at him for some reason. She's probably in pain. He really should go get her meds and breakfast first, but he needs to take care of his issue first.

"I'll be quick." He tries to assure her, and with as hard as he is right now he has no doubt he will be.

"Whatever. Don't use up all the hot water." She mumbles, rolling away from him in a pout. She's definitely pissed, Mike thinks. He wants to take care of her, but he's so aroused he will be useless to her until he gets things fixed first. There's no way in hell he could handle helping her shower in his current condition. He doesn't trust himself enough. She didn't need him lusting over her right now. He just needed to support her.

"Look, I can go get Charlie to help if you want a shower." Mike says, wanting to attend to Paige's needs, and hating himself for making her mad at him for putting his own immediate physical need ahead of hers.

"Whatever. Go." Paige mutters into her pillow.

Mike slips out the door uncomfortably, kicking himself mentally. Mike can't believe they've only been home a day and he's upset her already. As soon as he grabs his shower he's going to make it up to her by fixing her the best breakfast imaginable. Or possibly letting someone who can actually cook make her breakfast. Or ordering out. Either way, his only goal this weekend will be making Paige smile again.