BTWs, name inspired by the Muse song, Apocalypse Please. I was trying to think of a name and this song came to mind. I listened to it and it seemed to fit pretty well.

Okay so... I've come to realize that there really are not very many decent Legion fanfics out there and I felt like there needed to be another one. I know that I haven't completed my other ones yet, but I promise I'm working on them. :P Writers block! Anyhoo, this WILL be graphic, so if your little virgin eyes and ears can't stand it, I advise you now to turn back and not bother reading any further. I think Michael is a sexy bitch and this story will be written as such. :3 This will be written following a similar story line as the movie, only stretched out over more time, a few changes of course. Enhancements, really. :] I hope you all will enjoy!

Name: Adelaide Lewis

Age: 23

Height: 5' 10"

Size: Little thick, large chest, strong arms and legs

Eyes: Blue/blue-green

Hair: Shoulder length, wispy, red/auburn

Adelaide hit the ground hard and let out a pathetic cry. Lip bleeding, head pounding, eyes full of tears of pain, rage, helplessness, she glared up at her attacker. He was tall, broad shoulders, thick neck. He was dressed rather well, but he smelled strongly of whiskey. He was sneering down at her, getting his rocks off at the quiver of her lip and the terrified look on her face. She could hardly believe this was happening to her. Not fifteen minutes ago Addy had been on her way home from the bus station. Admittedly, she didn't live on the best side of town. Just a few blocks from her apartment the streets were lined with strip joints and skeezy clubs and bars. That must've been where this sick fuck had come from. As soon as she saw him staggering down the street alarms in her head went off. Unfortunately for her he seemed impervious to her pepper spray and uppercut. And he could take a shot to the balls like no man she'd ever encountered. All those self-defense classes seemed so meaningless to her now. So here she was, head swimming, clinging desperately to coherent thought. She heard the sound of him unbuckling his belt and closed her eyes, praying someone would help her.

"Take off your clothes," he slurred gruffly.

She glared up at him again and spat, "Fuck you, asshole."

She felt around in the dark for something – anything – to use as a weapon. She could've yelled with joy when she felt a metal bar. If no one else would aid her pleas for help, she'd have to handle this herself. She shouldn't have expected anything. She'd learned through her life that you should never depend on anyone but yourself.

He laughed at her and said darkly, "Wrong answer."

The second he moved, Addy grabbed the pipe and swung it at his knees with all her might. He shouted angrily and fell to the ground. There was a loud explosion and a hail of gunshots nearby, but for the moment it was the least of her worries. She pushed herself to her feet and ran from the dark alley to the street. A police car; there were cops! She heard her attacker swear loudly in the alley and come after her.

"Help!" she screamed. "Please! Help me!"

There was a gunshot and her steps faltered. She looked down at her right shoulder, hand fluttering to the growing red stain below her collarbone. The pain was excruciating, but she couldn't find her voice to make a noise. All she could do was collapse to her knees, trying to remember how to breathe. So this was what it was like to be shot? She heard footsteps – two sets – and looked up with a dazed expression. Another man was standing a few feet in front of her. He was tall, blonde, broad chest. She hoped with everything in her that he wasn't another sicko.

"Please help me," she pleaded, eyes streaming. "Please… Please…"

"Fuck off," her attacker snapped. "This is none of your business."

She heard another gunshot and covered her ears. She was dead. He was going to rape her and shoot her in cold blood.

"Give me your hand."

Addy was surprised not to hear that drunken fuck ordering her to strip again. She looked up at the blond man, who was holding his hand out to her. She stared at him a moment longer before taking it. After he helped her to her feet, she looked over her shoulder. Her would-be rapist was crumpled in a heap on the sidewalk, a bullet in his forehead. The blond grabbed her suitcase, stretched her arm over his shoulder and helped her limp along.

"Thank you," Addy said quietly, taking a deep breath in an attempt to stop her tears.

The stranger opened the passenger door of the police cruiser and helped her in. She watched him as he walked around the front of the car. He didn't much look like a cop – zip up vest, tan trench coat… My God was he handsome though. His face was smooth shaven and he had crystal blue eyes. As he started the engine and peeled out, she tried not to stare. She glanced out the window as they drove off. Two cops lay on the ground dead. She frowned. So he wasn't a cop. Somehow she still felt like she was in good hands. She looked over at him, trying to figure out what it was. He had some kind of aura about him. It wasn't quite kindness and it wasn't foreboding. It was more of… righteousness… Or maybe even power. Something about him told her she'd be safe with him. Without knowing why, she trusted him unconditionally. As they sped through the city, all the lights began to go out. She felt a wave of panic as block by block they were thrown into smothering darkness. She took a deep breath and swallowed hard, trying not to flip out. She stared out the window with wide eyes while her hand searched for something to hold onto. She found the emergency brake between them and squeezed it tightly for reassurance. That all too familiar feeling of terror was seeping in around the edges of her senses. Something was out there in the darkness. Some force beyond her knowledge was at work. She shuddered and turned her head away. She'd been living a relatively normal life around her night terrors, insomnia and paranoia. Her nerves were so shot that even her cat running past or brushing up against her leg would send her jumping and screaming. She took a deep breath and shook her head.

"What's your name?" Addy asked quietly to take her mind off things.

He glanced over at her for a few seconds before he replied, "Michael." He had some kind of accent she couldn't identify. It sounded almost British. After a moment of silence, he spoke again, seemingly reading her mind. "I can't take you home. There's no time."

She frowned but simply nodded. She looked out the window one last time at the dark city blurring past. Did he have something to do with the growing feeling of unease that had been settling over her? Her gut instinct told her he would know what it was all about – he was somehow involved in whatever horrible things she was sensing. The night terrors had been increasing in frequency, each slowly becoming more grotesque than the last. Whatever was going to happen, it was big. As they reached the outskirts of town, Addy finally gathered up the courage to speak again.

"Something huge is happening," she muttered. "I can feel it…" She looked over at Michael, watching him closely. "I think you know why." He looked over at her for a long moment. His expression was blank but his eyes were intense. She had to avert her eyes.

"Why did you come with me? You could've run."

Addy was caught off guard by his questions. She shifted in her seat. She wasn't sure how she could explain it. She supposed that in all actuality she really didn't. It was just a feeling.

"I…" She paused, trying to formulate words. "I don't know," she finally mumbled, playing with one of her rings. Pulling her courage together, she looked back at him. Had he been watching her the whole time? "It's just a feeling, I guess. You've got this…energy… This aura… I can't tell what it is. It's too… intense for me to read. I just know it's telling me you wouldn't do anything to hurt me. And seeing as how you saved me from…" Addy paused, shuddering at the mere thought. "I trust my instincts. And I trust you. If I'm mislead, so be it." Addy tried her very best to hold his gaze, but folded after just a few seconds, looking down at her hands.

"I'm an angel," he finally replied. "God gave man everything and they cast him aside. He's tired of giving them chances to change." He looked over at her once more. "Your kind is going to be exterminated."

"E-Exterminated?" she squeaked in a whisper.

Addy stared at him blankly. It was all she could do. Exterminated? Angel? Maybe he was crazy after all. She never imagined in a million years she was sensing the apocalypse, more or less. She shook her head and blinked. He couldn't possibly be serious. A cold feeling settled in the pit of her stomach. It felt like she'd suddenly been filled with ice. The intensity in his expression, his eyes, told her he was dead serious. Her brain refused to absorb such an idea. This couldn't be real. It was ridiculous for her to just accept what he was saying as truth. Who was he to her? But the way he just kept looking at her, like he was the most honest man in existence… Those eyes were telling her that he had never once spoken a lie. She swallowed hard. Her mouth was suddenly very dry.

"You're not lying, are you?" she breathed. "You're serious?"

A little crease appeared between his eyebrows. He looked confused, maybe a bit offended. "On my honor, what I have told you is the truth."

"Is…" She bit her lip and looked at Michael. "Is that why you're here?"

He threw her a look – somewhere between sharp and… tender? It was hard to read. Addy just frowned and bit her lip again.

"Yes and no," he answered. "Not for the reason you think." She watched him expectantly, hoping he would elaborate further. In that moment, realization dawned on her. She was speaking again before she could stop herself.

"Where are your wings?" she blurted out. Immediately afterward, she bit her tongue. "I'm sorry. That was rude," she hastily added, face turning red. When he looked at her again, she could swear she saw a smile in his eyes.

"Don't apologize," he said, eyes returning to the road. "It is in your nature to be curious, but one thing at a time. I'm here to try to stop Him."

Addy adjusted her seating so she could face him. She had to know everything – the good, the bad, and the ugly. As long as this was happening, she would prepare herself as best as she could. Maybe this was all just a dream. After all, she was suffering from sleep deprivation. She could be hallucinating this entire thing. That seemed to be a much more likely explanation. Either way, she decided to go along with it.

"I don't agree with His decision," Michael continued. "I cannot. When He made man, I was the first to bow down and declare my love for them. I was taught only to love them. I cannot simply stop. I will do everything in my power to stop this."

She could only stare at him in wonder. The determination etched into his features, the power, confidence, and courage in his voice… Michael left her feeling very much as though she were indeed in the presence of an angel. Such conviction… Addy had never in her life heard anyone speak that way.

Michael looked over and flashed her the smallest of smiles. "And that, Adelaide, is why my wings are gone. To disobey His orders, I cut them off. I made myself mortal."

Addy just nodded and watched him. She took advantage of the silence to take in his appearance in detail. His blond hair was shaved short. He had a strong jaw line, angular features, pale skin. Heavy, long eyelashes surrounded his crystal blue eyes. He really was very handsome. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She quickly looked away, running her tongue over her lip ring as she thought. She blushed, trying to push away the hormone crazy section of her brain. He was an angel. He was beyond unattainable. Could he even…? She shook her head. She shouldn't even be wondering about such things. He was gorgeous. He was on a mission. He was untouchable. End of story. Why was that suddenly such a difficult concept to wrap her mind around? Speaking of which, her head was starting to feel a bit light and cottony. And why was her shirt clinging to her skin? She moved her arm and, at the sharp pain, looked down at herself. How had he managed to make her forget that she'd been shot? The pain that had been at bay crashed down on her like a ton of bricks. Addy gasped and pressed her left hand to her shoulder. Her shirt was nearly half soaked in blood. The burning sensation made her eyes water. Was the bullet still in her shoulder? She wasn't even going to live to try to survive the apocalypse if she kept losing blood at this rate!

Michael glanced over and said, "You're losing an alarming amount of blood, Adelaide." The heavy metallic scent was filling her nostrils, making her stomach turn. She squeezed her eyes shut in a vain attempt to push away the nausea. "I can leave you at the hospital, but I cannot stay," he continued.

Addy's eyes snapped open and she blurted out, "No! I want to stay with you!" She blushed at her outburst, somehow retaining enough blood to fill her face. "Sorry," she muttered. "I didn't mean to shout. The idea startled me…"

Michael looked at her a moment longer before returning his gaze to the road. "You don't know what you're asking for. You cannot."

"But it just seems… right." Addy muttered sheepishly. "I don't always listen to what my heart is trying to tell me and I usually regret it. This… I can't pass this up. There's something I have to do wherever it is that you're going. I know that if I don't follow my instincts on this one I'll be kicking myself in the ass for the rest of my life. However short it may be..." Listening to herself, Addy wished her voice didn't quiver with uncertainty. She lacked the conviction that seemingly came so easily to Michael. She must've sounded ridiculous – childish even. She frowned. "I'm not sure that came out quite right," she said thoughtfully, more to herself than to him. "Sounded a little selfish. I mean it's entirely up to you whether or not I come with you." Now she was just rambling. Was it the blood loss making her so nervous and incoherent? Something told her it was more likely the result of the gorgeous man seated so calmly by her side. She was secretly praying that he wouldn't kick her out.

"I understand," he replied. Addy looked at him in both surprise and relief. Despite her pain and the situation in which she had just placed herself, she smiled.

"You're not going to make me leave?" she asked. If he had second thoughts she wanted to at least be near the city. Michael frowned as though he didn't understand the question. Although he didn't take his eyes off the road, Addy felt as though he were staring her down with a questioning gaze.

"I would not make you do anything you did not want to," he replied simply. The tone of his voice suggested that he thought this should be obvious.

She smiled and leaned her forehead against the cool window. "Good to know, Michael," she mumbled groggily.

Suddenly she was very sleepy - overwhelmingly so, in fact. She could hardly stand to hold her head up. By the time Michael glanced over at her, Addy was unconscious, head drooping against her shoulder and the window. She was breathing still, though harder than seemed normal. He decided for the time being it would be best to let her rest.

Addy woke with a start, suddenly jarred from her dreamless sleep. For a moment she couldn't remember where she was. Had that man taken her? She blinked twice and let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting. She was… in a hotel? On top of that, she was lying on her back shirtless. A wave of panic crashed down on her. She made to sit up, but a searing pain shot through her shoulder and down her arm. She yelled through clenched teeth. Looking down at the bloody mess, her stomach did a flip. Looking to the nightstand, she spotted a pile of bloodied towels, upon which was placed several bullet fragments. She was starting to hyperventilate. A moment later Michael came around the wall from what Addy presumed was the bathroom. She immediately calmed, her memory flooding back. Michael stopped to look at her, a frown on his face. He was no longer wearing his coat – or his shirt for that matter. He was covered with tattoos. They were all very intricate – what appeared to be writing.

"You seem alarmed," he stated, coming to sit beside her on the bed. "Are you alright?"

Addy took a deep breath and nodded. "Just… couldn't think for a minute…"

He nodded and gently pressed a warm washcloth to her still bleeding shoulder. She bit her lip and tried not to stare at him. Instead she focused on the ceiling, making patterns out of the bumps in the paint.

"I hope you do not mind," Michael started. "I found a first aid kit in your suitcase. I extracted the bullet from your shoulder. The shot was clean. It hit nothing vital. You're lucky."

Addy glanced over at him feeling quite naked. His brow was furrowed, eyes focused on her wound. No one had ever seen her shirtless – no man, at least. She blushed at the situation; his fingertips brushing across her bare skin, the dim lights behind him seemingly making him glow…

"You are blushing." Shit. He'd noticed… "Why?" he continued, pausing a moment in his threading of the needle.

How was she supposed to explain physical attraction to an angel? Did they… feel that way? Surely they didn't have sex… Do they get married? She was at a loss for words.

"It's just…" She couldn't just say it. She just met the man for God's sake. Ironic choice of words…"I just feel a little exposed. It's nothing."

He blanched. Was that normal for angels? "Of course, my sincerest apologies. How inconsiderate."

"No, no, it's fine. Go ahead and… finish."

She kicked herself mentally. Real smooth. What on Earth was the matter with her? She'd known him a few short hours and already she could hardly control her own thoughts. The needle pierced her skin and she gasped. She'd never had stitches before. It was like getting something pierced, only the pain was sharper and repetitive. Michael stopped to glance and her and she just nodded for him to continue. Addy bit her tongue and closed her eyes. With at least 6 piercings she should be used to the pain. He was finished sooner than she thought he'd be. She exhaled slowly and he dabbed at her shoulder once more with the warm towel. Just a few minutes later she was sitting with her back against the headboard, fiddling with the tape on her bandage. Michael was in the bathroom once more. She could hear water running. Did he intend to take a shower with the door open? Before Addy had any more time to consider the matter (or explore the thought of peeking), he emerged. He tousled his hair shaking the water from it. She watched him as he carefully placed her things back into her suitcase, trying to figure out his tattoos. Arms, chest, neck… they were all covered with intricate designs. They were unlike anything she had ever seen. She bit her lip, wondering what they meant. So strange… being in this predicament, that is. Addy laid back on a bed, some boy waltzing around half naked… she supposed she had pictured a moment quite similar to this but… well perhaps not under the circumstances.

She picked up the remote and showed it to him. "Do you mind?"

He shook his head. She turned he volume down to barely audible. It didn't matter what was on. When he looked at her questionably, she just smiled.

"I like having some kind of noise in the background. The silence is smothering sometimes," she explained.

Michael nodded again and sauntered across the room to turn the light off. That's when she saw them – the poorly stitched gashes across his back. How had she not seen them sooner?

"Oh my God!" Addy gasped, leaping off the bed. She ran her fingers gently across the un-mangled spot between his shoulders. The skin around his stitches was taut and an angry shade of red. She shook her head. This was ridiculous. "Please lie down. I have to clean these. Don't they hurt?"

His tensed posture relaxed and he turned to face her. He was a bit taller than she had originally thought. "Only a little," he said calmly. Why did he always have to look so intense? It was like his gaze was… smoldering… She wondered fleetingly if he was even aware that he was doing it.

"Humor me. Please?"

Michael smiled faintly and flopped down on his stomach across the mattress. Addy got a clean towel and ran it under some cool water. She happened to catch a glimpse of herself in the mirror and had to stop what she was doing. She touched her face, as though she had to make sure it was really her own reflection. Her left eye was bruised, the swelling just beginning to go down. Her bottom lip had been split open on the left side, but had already scabbed over. Michael must have cleaned her face off as well. She still looked a hot mess though. She shook her head and went to sit beside Michael. He grabbed a fistful of blanket when she placed the towel across his shoulders, but otherwise gave no indication that he was in pain. She allowed him to adjust to the temperature before she began to carefully clean away the dried blood. A few minutes passed in silence before she could bring herself to say something.

"Thank you for taking care of me Michael," she said quietly. "For saving me, really. Fate worse than death…"

"You are welcome," he replied. "I have seen much violence in your world. If I could easily stop it, I would never allow such a thing to happen to you."

There was a brief pause in which Addy bit her lip thoughtfully.

"Michael, can I ask you something?"

"Of course."

She took a deep breath. She'd often wondered… "Did… Did God make us this cruel or is it just… us? Have we become some kind of defect?"

He was silent a long moment. She immediately blushed, thinking he wasn't going to answer. Had she said something wrong?

"Sorry," she quickly mumbled. "Just… You don't have to answer…"

She had finished and Michael sat up to face her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking and it bothered her. He didn't smile, but his gaze was soft.

"Your apologies are unnecessary and come far too often," he said, reaching out to tuck her hair behind her ear.

She chuckled nervously. "Just habit, I suppose. Seems like I've always been apologizing for one thing or another."

This time Addy could see his expression shift to curiosity. He was looking at her so intensely. His eyes were smoldering again.

"Adelaide, may I ask you a question?" he asked quietly. She was still a little dazed. All she could do was nod. "Why do you mar your beautiful face with metal?" he reached out to brush his fingertips past her eyebrow and then across her lips, tweaking the hoop in her septum.

She was frozen, her face on fire. His gesture as well as his inquiry caught her off guard. She smiled nervously, trying to calm her racing heart.

"I…" She had to clear her throat to speak properly. "I don't know. I always thought it looked cool. Figured I'd see how it turned out. I thought it looked okay on me…" Immediately self-conscious, she wondered if it looked bad.

Seeing that he may have worded it poorly, he quickly corrected himself. "Of course, Adelaide. You will always be beautiful." Addy blushed again and scooted back so Michael could sit up. "To answer your question… Humans were not always like this. When they were first made, there was no war… no crime… no callousness or hatred. It is, as you explained, a defect. God wishes to correct His mistake."

There was a moment of silence in which she frowned and bit her lip. She tried not to look too disturbed. He was still watching her. Michael leaned across her, his face directly in front of hers. She held her breath, drawn out of her thoughts, afraid to ruin this moment. It would be so easy to just close the distance. Damn him…

"Since meeting you Adelaide I cannot help but wonder…" he said quietly, eyes probing hers.

"Wonder what?" Addy asked in a barely audible squeak. She should do it; just lean forwards a couple of inches. Would he be offended?

"Why… if He has grown so intolerable of your species... would He have spent so much time making you so perfect?"

Addy's stomach erupted with butterflies. No one had ever said anything like that to her before. He was an angel, yes? And angels didn't lie… but why would he think that of her? He'd known her for less than a day. Then he smiled faintly, seemingly reading her mind once more.

"I've known you since before you were born," he whispered. "I was quite fond of watching you play when you were a child. There was always something different about you. So often it was that you had my attention, I would sometimes spend days watching the intimate workings of your life. I lost sight of you some time ago in the chaos of things. I didn't recognize you right away, but I can sense it in your soul. Much has changed. You've matured greatly."

She couldn't readily decide if that sounded creepy or sweet. Before she had a moment to speak, Michael leaned in and kissed her forehead.

"Rest now. We leave in 5 hours."

And with that he switched off the lamp and lay down beside her. She exhaled slowly and sat there a moment longer in stunned silence. She turned off the television and carefully squirmed her way under the covers, trying not to think about Michael's body just a few inches away from hers.

Michael stared at the wall deep in thought until the sound of Addy's breathing slowed. Why had he said all those things to her? Undoubtedly they were true, but suddenly he felt… Was it embarrassment? Why he should feel thus was greatly puzzling to him. This mortal body had brought with it mortal emotions. Addy groaned and stirred in her sleep. Michael rolled over to face her. She looked peaceful. She was dreaming. He watched for a long while, wondering what thoughts crossed her mind in dreamland. A moment later she muttered something unintelligible and scooted closer to him. She let out a long sigh and nestled herself against his chest.

He froze to allow her to settle once more. Seemingly content, her body relaxed. He continued to lie still, deep in thought once more. Addy's body was warm against his bare chest. She had forgotten to put a clean shirt on. Michael cautiously wrapped his arm around her and closed his eyes, leaning his cheek on top of her head. Her skin was soft. He found his fingertips gently caressing her back. She smelled pleasant, sweet. He sighed heavily and bit his tongue, forcing his hands to be still. She was giving him impure thoughts. Was this normal for humans? He'd never felt anything of the sort and was uncertain what it meant. It was physical, but it was also something much deeper than that. Something in her soul perhaps? It felt… unnatural… but undeniably it was a pleasing feeling. Michael opened his eyes and glanced at the clock. Had that much time passed? Addy twitched and muttered again. He could feel her entire body tense. Most of what she was saying was too slurred to understand, but he could pick apart little bits of it. Her eyelids were fluttering wildly. She must be having a nightmare.

"Get back… Don't take… crazy… Shoot…Take the baby… Run… Run… Michael… Michael!"

Without warning, Addy shot up straight, calling his name in alarm. She was panting heavily, both hands pressed firmly against her sternum. She stared a moment at the wall ahead of her, not really seeing the surrounding room. Michael sat up and she jumped, looking at him but still not seeing as the remnants of her dream world faded. He touched her face and she closed her eyes, a tear or two trailing down her cheeks.

"You are safe," he said reassuringly. "Come. It is not yet time to leave."

She simply nodded and lay back down beside him. Addy clung to him tightly, still in a daze. He could feel her body quivering. She was crying still. Michael wrapped her in his arms in a comforting embrace. Addy stared at his chest, eyes full to the brim. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath to calm her nerves. Michael gently stroked her hair, twirling strands of it between his fingers. She found the gesture soothing. She could see it all so vividly – her dream, her nightmare. She could still feel the fear shaking her to her very core, hear the others voices, feel the sword pierce her chest… Is that what was going to happen? She absentmindedly traced Michael's sternum with her fingertips. His body was warm against hers. It helped ease away her worry.

"Michael?" she said quietly.

"Yes?" he replied.

"I had a dream. You were in it. We were… in the desert, I think. It was very hot. Everything was so chaotic. There were all these people… but they weren't people. They were… distorted, pale… eyes pitch black and empty. It was all so real… I think I died… Is that really going to happen? My dreams have been getting increasingly violent… realistic…"

"I could not say," Michael muttered, rubbing her back. "What I can assure you of is that I will do everything in my power to protect you. Cast away your fears and rest your troubled mind. You need not worry."

That was all Addy needed to hear. She immediately relaxed and nuzzled closer to Michael. She wondered if that ability was an angel thing or if it was just him. She listened calmly to his heartbeat, the rhythm a familiar sound.

"Thank you Michael," she whispered, already drifting back to sleep. He was like Jasper Cullen. He radiated calm and collected. And charm. He oozed charm and he probably didn't even realize it. Gah! She was thinking those bad thoughts about him again. Off limits, off limits, off limits!

"What are you thinking about?" Michael asked in her ear. His breath was hot on her neck. It sent a shiver down her spine. He must've noticed because he pulled back to look at her.

"Do you have a fever? Your body is warm but you have goosebumps."

Addy blushed furiously. How the hell was she supposed to explain that? He wouldn't understand it anyway, would he? He was so innocent sometimes. He was completely oblivious to the nature of human attraction…

"No, I'm… fine," she said bashfully. "Just a cold chill is all."

Michael nodded and allowed her to hide her face against his chest once more. "You had this look on your face – like you were having a conversation in your head."

She smiled and tried not to giggle. "It was nothing really. I was just thinking."

"What about, if you don't mind my prying?"

Addy blanched, quickly trying to think up a quick white lie. "Uh…"

He chuckled. "Forgive me. I am, as always, a bit too frank I fear."

"No, no, it's fine. I was… thinking about you." And his seductiveness. And those things he'd said. Was he driving her stupid on purpose?

"Yes… I imagine I'm as much of an enigma to you as you are to me."

Good. He hadn't thought into the meaning behind that. His body relaxed and he rested his cheek on top of her head once more. His hands returned to absentmindedly stroking her back. Addy closed her eyes and tried to force herself back to sleep.

Addy groaned groggily and rubbed her eyes. What had woken her? She opened her eyes and jumped, startled. Michael was lying on his side, head propped up on his hand.

He smiled and said quietly, "My apologies. I didn't mean to frighten you."

His other hand was presently twirling a strand of her hair, which he stared at transfixed for a moment. She bit her bottom lip as she watched him, holding back her smile. Why did he seem so fascinated? She'd never understand the way his mind worked. She hated to disturb his thoughts, but he woke her for a reason.

"Is it time to leave?" she finally asked.

Coming out of his reverie, Michael simply nodded. She was dying to know what he was thinking. Addy stretched and rolled out of bed. She blushed furiously wished she had something to cover herself with. She hadn't put a shirt on last night. How had she forgotten? Michael was still lying on the bed, fully dressed, waiting patiently. He looked relaxed in posture, but his eyebrows were knit together. He was either thinking again or confused about something. Maybe both? Good gravy, was he staring at her boobs? She turned away, embarrassed beyond all reason, and quickly grabbed clean clothes before rushing to the bathroom. She cleaned herself off with a washcloth and managed to stick her head in the shower briefly. She didn't want to mess with the bandage on her shoulder. Normally she wouldn't care how she looked, but she spent an extra moment making sure she looked okay. Tattered light blue jeans, dark gray loose t-shirt depicting "love" over and over again in different languages, eyeliner… Addy decided she didn't look half bad. She returned to an empty room. Only her bag remained sitting on the made bed. Before she had time to panic, the door opened. Relief flooded her mind and she shoved everything back in her bag. Michael looked at her for a moment from across the room. Addy ran her fingers through her hair self-consciously. Why was he looking at her like that? He crossed to the bed and picked up her things, nodding his head toward the door for her to go first. Once back on the road, Addy stared out the window with a frown. The sun wasn't up yet, but she still had no idea where they were. They weren't on a highway, of that much she was certain. They were driving down a country road surrounded by trees. Whether it was the immense darkness beyond the trees or because it was so unfamiliar she didn't know, but she suddenly felt very uneasy. The air was thick with some malevolent energy. She made sure her seatbelt was on right and locked her door.

Michael glanced at her, seemingly sensing her discomfort. "Is everything all right?"

Addy closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. "I think so. It's just… something feels off. It's really overwhelming. It's almost like danger is in the air. I can't describe it. It's very dark, almost angry. Can you feel it?"

He suddenly slammed on the brakes. She braced herself and looked at him sharply, but he wasn't even looking at her. He was staring straight ahead out of the windshield. She followed his gaze and her heart stopped. Ahead of them in the road, a figure was standing just outside the boundaries of the headlights. She could only see his bottom half.

"Michael…" she said warily. Her heart was racing. She worried it might burst free of her ribcage. He reached down under her seat, never taking his eyes off the man in the road.

"Take this," he said, handing her a shotgun.

"Michael…" The terror was like a palpable pressure building in her chest. It was smothering her. It felt as though she were about to break down into tears. She had to take a series of deep breaths to come to her senses.

"It's already loaded. Don't let him out of your sight."

As soon as Michael looked away, the figure in the road started toward the car. The closer he got, the more clearly she could see him. He was quite tall, largely built, dressed in flannel and blue jeans. He looked like a lumberjack. The headlights fell upon his bearded face and Addy felt her heart sputter frantically. His skin seemed to be an ashy gray. His eyes were pitch black, blank, empty. He looked… dead… She'd seen that look before. It was in her nightmare last night. Pure terror shot through her veins. It took her a moment to realize Michael had left the vehicle.

"Get out of the car," she heard him order.

The command was powerful and she didn't dare disobey. She stumbled out of the passenger seat after a moment of struggling with her seatbelt. Michael was digging around in the trunk. What the hell was he looking for at a time like this? He was ¾ of the way to the car already!

"Shoot him, Adelaide," Michael said. Again there was no suggestion in his tone. "Aim for the head."

"Michael, I've never fired a gun before! I don't have very good aim!"

"Adelaide, relax. You can."

She whimpered and raised the shotgun, hands shaking. How were you supposed to aim? One eye or two? She opened both eyes and shot. She missed, hitting the ground beside him. The kick back jammed the butt of the gun into her shoulder. She hissed and groaned, but bit back the pain, cocked the gun, and took aim again. She pulled the trigger again. She saw where it struck him in the chest, but he barely flinched. She cocked the gun once more, but that was it. There were only two shots. He was upon them.