Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

Nigel Manning was used to hearing the couple next door shouting at each other or more accurately, him shouting at her. He knew the guy from having lived next door to him for three years and really wished he didn't. His name was Adam Dawson, and it was clear that the man was a spiteful, misogynistic prick who got his kicks from openly degrading and abusing women. Nigel had lost count of the number of times he’d seen Dawson coming home with a different girl on his arm, only for her to leave around 2 to 3AM, proving Dawson wanted only to fuck them and then kick them out. Nigel had given several a lift home due to the time of night. It’d only made him hate Dawson even more. He didn’t care about women’s safety, just the sex. It was clear he regarded women purely as sex toys and he made no attempt to hide it. Nigel had even tried to call the police, but they’d told him what he’d known deep down was true, that didn’t stop him from trying though. Because Adam wasn’t breaking the law, there was nothing they could do unless he did.

Nigel had lived in the same house for five years with his wife Sophie who had died six months ago. Ever since the guy arrived, they had quickly discovered he was a Grade A prick. Sophie had shouted at him constantly to slow down while he would barrel down the street. He drove like a maniac, and they lived near a school. Did he want to kill a child? He'd totally ignored her, and Nigel knew why. Because she was a woman. So, he'd called the police and they had pulled Dawson over and warned him about his speed. For all the good it'd done.

Then Danielle had moved in with Dawson and Nigel's heart sank. A blind woman with an asshole like that? He wanted to warn her, but knew it wasn't his place. She didn't even know him and would probably see him as the nosy old neighbour from hell. He knew how abuse worked. She wouldn't believe or trust him. He assumed Dawson had met Danielle at college, and his dislike of the man deepened even further. She was vulnerable and of course the bastard knew it, easy prey. It made his heart ache.

Sophie had cared about Danielle too, describing her as the daughter they'd never had. She was always trying to talk to her, make her tea and help, but she was always so quiet. Both he and Sophie believed Adam Dawson was abusing her, but she never mentioned it. He'd had the impression Sophie was working up to asking her soon, but before she got the chance, she’d gotten sick and had to be hospitalized. Everything had changed when she’d died of cancer. Danielle had somehow found out and brought him some homemade meals. That night, he’d had to sit there and listen to the prick yelling at her for wasting ‘his’ money on food for that ‘old fucker next door.’ Adam hated him because of the driving thing figuring he'd called the police, and he hated Adam because of his downright barbaric treatment of women.

From then on, he and Danielle had talked. Her “boyfriend” was a self-employed contractor so while he was working, she would stop by nearly every day. Finally, she'd broken down and told him the truth. It turned out he'd been right all along. The bastard was controlling having taken her money, not letting her work, she had to stay at home and wait on him hand and foot. If Dawson knew she was talking to him he'd lose his mind. He'd tried to encourage her to call for help, but she'd just smiled and shaken her head sadly at him.

He'd seen her cooking and had to admire how quickly she'd learned all on her own. He'd heard Dawson shouting at her once for burning his dinner and had almost called the police for her, or at the very least banged on the door and told the guy to fuck himself. But he couldn't. He knew only too well the harm that would cause her. She would be the one in danger not him if he did that. So, he’d had to wait, much to his utter frustration.

He'd asked her recently why she hadn't left him. She'd given him that sad smile again and said, ‘he made me happy once.’ He’d asked how and she'd said he was once kind and made her feel special. That was when she'd told him of her love of whistling. How she knew when he himself was around because he always whistled when gardening or along with the radio and she heard him through their open windows in hot weather. He’d hugged her and she'd rested her head on his shoulder. She'd previously told him how her parents had abandoned her because she was blind. “I love you Nige,” she'd said then and he'd had to blink back tears, holding her as tightly as he could. “I love you too,” he'd said and meant it.

But tonight, Dawson had finally gone too far. He had always trusted his instincts and knew something bad was happening worse than usual. Watching through his living room window, he saw Danielle emerge from the house and head straight for the garage. That set off the first alarm bell. She was totally blind, and Dawson had dangerous power tools in there which he didn't want her getting hurt by.

He hurried out of his house and set off towards the garage, worry rising in him. What the hell was going on? Maybe the prick had sent her to get a tool for him, not caring if she got hurt? That as far as he was concerned was too far. Then he saw Dawson coming out of the house following behind her quietly. Anger spiked in his chest. The bastard was using her blindness against her and to his advantage. He was about to step forward and confront the spineless worm, when he saw her climb onto an old wooden chair then what she was holding in her hand. A long length of rope. Panic rose in his chest. He broke into a run, just as her so-called ‘boyfriend’ closed and locked the door. He put the key in his pocket and headed back towards the house as if he hadn't seen that she was even in there. The son of a bitch was even whistling! Cruel irony.

He raced back to his house and grabbed a sledgehammer and a large knife although he'd have to resist the urge to murder Dawson with it. As he ran back towards the garage next to his, Dawson came out of the house again carrying a vicious looking machete. He saw Nigel and stopped in his tracks. Nigel fought with everything he had to keep his mouth shut. He would see this bastard sent down but had to pretend he was none the wiser until the police arrived.

Now Dawson was standing in front of the door, half-heartedly hacking at it with the machete. But he knew they both knew it wouldn't work. He was just doing it for show. He was trying to block him from reaching the door. He tried not to hate anyone, but right then he did, and he wanted to strangle the bastard. I swear to God, he thought. If he doesn't move, I might just use this goddam knife on him after all!

“Out of the way!” He snapped at Dawson, raising the sledgehammer. “Unless you want this put through your fucking head!”

“I…” Adam stammered. “I'm trying to break down the door. I… I think she's…”

Yeah, which is why you locked it and put the key in your pocket, he thought with another stab of hatred. That's why you were fucking whistling as you walked away! You’re lying motherfucker. You want her to die.

Without saying anything further, he raised the sledgehammer and swung it right into the garage door, just as there was a loud crash inside. They knew Danielle had just jumped from the chair and didn't have to think too hard as to why. He smashed the sledgehammer against the door again. Once, twice. The door caved in, and he forced himself through. The sight that greeted him made him blink back tears. He'd been right. She was hanging by her neck, the chair now knocked over. Dawson was standing there frozen in shock, but he knew he was faking. He'd wanted this to happen which was why he'd locked the door. He even wondered if the machete was to finish the job if the rope didn't work. Bile rows in his throat. He didn't think, he just acted, almost on autopilot. He sprinted over, stood on the chair, and began cutting the rope as quickly as he could. Fortunately, the knife was sharp, and it didn't take long for him to cut the knot she'd tied to one of the wooden slats above her head.

Adam had already run back towards his house, but he knew he wouldn't call an ambulance or the police. Of course not, seeing as he'd locked the fucking door knowing she was inside. As he carefully lowered her to the ground, he noticed a deep cut running across her right cheek which was bleeding profusely. He also saw that her trousers were ripped. That goddamn bastard had raped her; he was certain of it.

Pulling out his phone he dialled 911 for the police and an ambulance. Within five minutes they were there. Danielle was loaded onto a stretcher. He had administered basic first aid as best as he could until the paramedics arrived. He'd made sure she was still breathing which she was. She appeared to be unconscious. Thank Christ he'd acted so fast. As the ambulance sped off, he gave the police his statement. He watched, with a feeling of immense satisfaction as Dawson was handcuffed and arrested. Hope they throw away the key, he thought savagely. That you rot in hell you abusive bastard!

When he got back to his house the tears finally did come. Danielle had lived there for the past and he’d taken her under his wing without planning to do so. He'd helped her out whenever she needed it but only if she asked him to. He knew how independent she was and wanted to be. She'd told him she'd met Dawson at college but had never talked about anything that was happening at home until last week. He was certain that more than once she'd wanted to and had come close to confiding in him, but she was clearly too afraid of Dawson. He could only hope now she was free of him for good. No one deserved to be with a man like that.

But if he could've read the thoughts of the man now sitting cuffed in the back of the cop car, he would've been terrified. She was far from free. The guy was already planning his revenge and how to make her suffer things he would never have believed.

…

One week later

Dr Samuel Loomis looked at the huge file in front of him with a heavy sigh, then leant back in his leather desk chair rubbing his eyes. This was certainly going to be a challenge. He knew as far as treating her he could do it; he'd been a psychiatrist for over twenty years but looking after her was going to be another matter. It meant he would lose one of the guards to her care whenever she was out of her cell. He hadn't read the whole file yet due to its size and only receiving it that morning, but he knew he'd have to put time aside for it before the next afternoon. A knock on the door startled him. It opened and his PA Andria Pearson entered. He'd worked with her for ten years. She was good, fast, and hardly ever made a mistake.

“I just got the call, your newest patient Danielle Hayward will be arriving tomorrow at 9AM Sam,” she said. “They're checking her over one more time at the hospital first.”

“Thanks Andi,” He smiled at her. She smiled back. She was a short woman, athletically built and with sharp, almost probing hazel eyes. Dr Loomis had often joked she should have his job. “I swear you can see right through people with that gaze,” he'd said more than once. “You should be a psychiatrist too.”

“No thanks,” she'd said with a laugh. “No to the job, but I'll definitely take the pay!”

“Do you want a coffee?”

“Please Andi,” she smiled at him again when he used her shortened name. “Thanks. As you can see, this'll keep me busy for a while.” She disappeared and was back within five minutes.

Shortly afterwards there was another knock on his door and Dr Gemma Stark entered, his second in command. “I did what you asked,” she said without preamble leaning against his desk. “I checked the cell list. The only one free in our ward is cell eight.”

“Cell…” Dr Loomis's mouth fell open in horror. “No, there's no way, we can't…”

“Do you have another suggestion?” Dr Stark looked at him levelly. “If we move anyone else it will completely disrupt their routine and you know what that could mean. They hate it. It would cause a full-on damn riot Sam!”

“We can't, not next door to Michael Myers! The guy's pure evil there's nothing left, how many times have I told you that? Putting a totally blind woman next door to him, a woman who's already attempted suicide? We might as well give her the rope again!”

“But he's not going to get the chance to touch her, is he?” She asked patiently. “You know that. She'll have to always have a guard with her anyway to guide her around the place and in the yard, Myers is always chained to that concrete block. Out and about to a guard. What are you so worried about? When they're in their cells the doors will be locked. She'll be perfectly safe. They're just next door to each other. What's the big problem? Any problem you see now will be far out shadowed if we end up with a riot on our hands and you know it.”

He sighed, knowing his junior consultant was right but that didn't mean he had to like it. In fact, he hated it. Of all the men Danielle could've been placed next door to, why him? Why Michael Myers?

“We will need to be incredibly careful, keep our eyes out for any trouble,” he said eventually. “A totally silent killer, do you have any idea how easily he could take advantage of someone who won't even know he's there until it's too late? It's not like she'll see him, is it?”

“Then we just have to make absolutely damn sure he never gets the chance to get close to her,” Dr Stark said. “I agree with you Sam. We will have to be very careful. But we have some of the best guards in the country working for us, we can trust them. They'll look after her. We need to trust our staff for this place to run smoothly.”

He bit his tongue. Who did she think she was to be telling him this? He had ten years of experience over her at least. She'd only arrived at Smith's Grove three years ago. He didn't appreciate being told what he already knew by a subordinate. Dr Stark must've seen something on his face because when she spoke this time her voice was softer, almost abashed.

“Sorry Sam, I know you know this and you're my boss, but there honestly is nowhere else we can put her. From what I've been told, she needs more security than one of the lower wards and it's the only empty cell on the high-level care ward. Even a cell number change could set some of those patients off. What else could I do? I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to tell you how to do your job boss.”

He sighed but was unable to stop a slight grin. “That's enough ‘boss’ from you Gemma. All right, I understand what you're saying. But as I said, we need to tell our guards to keep their eyes sharp whenever she's out of her cell. It's not just Myers either. There's lots of patients who… Well, you know.”

She nodded. “Yes, I do, and I hadn't overlooked that either. Please don't think I was considering Myers as the only risk. But he's certainly the biggest. There may be nothing left as you say, but I think Michael Myers is far from insane just as you do.”

He nodded grimly. “He certainly is. He's calculating, silent and dangerous.”

…

The secure van rolled up to Smith's Grove's gates and was buzzed through. A few minutes later, it reached the front doors of the Maximum-security unit, and an unrestrained young woman was guided out by two guards. Dr Loomis who was standing in the entrance noticed the lack of chains and felt relieved. If they hadn't felt the need to restrain her maybe she wouldn't present many challenges regarding giving them trouble. She was escorted through the doors which were quickly closed behind her. 19-year-old Danielle Hayward was tall for a woman at five-ten and very thin. He immediately felt sympathetic. She really did look as if she hadn't had it easy leading up to the suicide attempt which had landed her here.

“Hi Danielle,” he said softly. “My name is Dr Loomis, and I will be doing my best to help you while you're here.” Silence. She turned her head slightly towards the sound of his voice but otherwise didn't acknowledge him at all. “This is Joanne,” He continued. “She'll be your assigned guard when you're not in your cell.”

“Hi Danielle,” Joanne said, trying to keep her voice cheerful. Still nothing. The guard caught Dr Loomis' eye and could see he was thinking the same as she was. I hope her silence isn't permanent. Two guards guided her to her cell, she made absolutely no effort to resist them. Of course, she didn't see the black eyes silently watching her through the cell bars next to hers as a guard secured the door.

…

Joanne Turner looked at Dr Loomis raising her eyebrows. “Why'd you pick me, Sam?” “Because you're the best female guard we have,” He replied.

“Or rather the only one of the two of us on this ward who was willing,” Joanne said in contempt. Dr Loomis ignored her comment. “You're good at being cheerful, kind and compassionate and not afraid to show the patients whose boss if needed.”

Joanne snorted. “Whatever. Fact is Jamie wouldn't do it, so you had no choice but to ask me.”

“Are you saying you'd rather not?”

She sighed. “No Sam. But I know why I must. You told me that she's terrified of men being too close to her and if they are she could regress. I get it, I do. I've just… Never looked after a totally blind person before.”

“You'll just have to guide her from place to place and stay with her in the yard to keep her safe. That's the only difference. If she doesn't cause you trouble, you'll be fine.

“If she does? Or if there's a problem and I'm needed elsewhere?”

“I've put a policy in place that you are not to leave her no matter what happens. Even if every other guard is needed you won't leave her side. As for her causing you trouble I can't see that being likely. Even if she tries, you'll have your protective equipment plus the advantage of sight as horrible as that sounds. You're in control Joanne, not her.”

She hesitated for a moment longer then sighed. “Fine. I'd better go and introduce myself properly to her then.”

…

“Hey! How many fingers am I holding up?”

6-year-old Danielle Hayward said nothing. She was used to this by now. The other children's mocking laughter echoed across the playground. Even at 6 they were clever and cruel. Whereas most bullies got caught if an attack was visual, with her it only depended on hearing. They could whisper spiteful remarks in her ears and the teachers would be none the wiser. She'd also long given up running to her parents in tears. She'd never doubted they loved her, but she was also sure that they didn't really… know how to cope with her blindness. She'd only had a 15% chance of surviving due to being born fifteen weeks earlier than she should've been. Somehow, she'd fought back against the odds and lived. According to her parents she'd died five times and they'd had to keep poking her to keep her alive. Although they’d tried not to show it, she always knew she was… In their eyes to use their exact words, ‘less than perfect.’ She'd heard them say so once when they thought she was asleep,

“Come and play with me. There's a swing over here…” Only for her to be pushed into a muddy and stinking hole. ‘Kids are kids,’ was all her parents would say when she tried to talk to them about it. There were also incidents where kids wrote fuck on her homework knowing she wouldn't see it along with other spiteful messages. Without her vision, she was vulnerable, and the school bullies jumped at the chance to tease her. When she got her first white cane, the bullies would hide it and one even bent it. That was the only time her parents got involved when there was money in it. It always was money for them. Canes were not cheap to replace, starting price was at least $50 and her parents demanded the culprit, or their parents replace it.

As she grew into her teens the bullying continued, just changed its form. Instead of pushing her into holes or asking about fingers, they hid her things so she couldn't find them, left her lost in corridors when they were supposed to be guiding her to a class if she wasn't sure where it was. They had squashed her Braille documents until they were almost unreadable and torn. She had a support assistant who tried to help, but regardless the bullies always found a way to torment her. Even the teachers in the higher grades had tried, but still it continued. Even when some were caught and put in detention it didn't discourage others. She had asked her parents, begged them to let her attend a special school for blind children and young adults, but they'd refused. ‘Too expensive’ they'd said their typical answer.

…

“Hello Danielle.”

She was jolted out of her memories by the voice outside her cell. For a second, she wasn't sure where she was. Then it clicked. Smith's Grove following her suicide attempt. Damn, damn him! He'd probably be only too happy… “Sorry didn't mean to startle you.”

She stood from the bed and felt her way to the bars. She wasn't allowed her cane in here just in case she “harmed herself or someone else with it.” She inwardly scoffed at that. Without it she felt lost, as if part of her was missing.

“Hello, I'm Joanne. I'll be your guard while you're here. I'll be with you when you're outside in the yard. If there is anything you need or need any help, just let me know and I'll do what I can for you. Of course, any of the guards will be here for you as well, but I'm assigned to you, so you'll mostly be dealing with me.”

You mean carer, she thought with another wave of bitterness. If she had a dollar every time someone had said she needed a carer she'd be a millionaire by now. She made no response. She hadn't spoken since Nigel had found her… there and she wasn't about to start now. She didn't feel ready for it. She just gave Joanne a very brief nod.

“You're in a small room,” Joanne continued, and Danielle noticed she didn't use the word “cell.” Well, that was what it was so why not? She hated her already. “You've got the bed you were sitting on, a desk and did you find the screen at the back with the sink and toilet behind it when my colleague showed you? Do you need me to show you again?”

She shook her head. She wasn't stupid. Who did this woman think she was? An idiot?

“There's a call button next to your bed just above your pillows, just press it if you need us. You have two men on either side of you so I'm sure if we don't hear you, they'll attract us for you.”

Yeah right, Joanne thought. The one on your left is Michael Myers. He'd kill you and all of us given half a chance. The one on your right is a sexist asshole. Just the perfect cell-block mate for you given your circumstances. She shook those thoughts away. She wasn't allowed to give the patients each other's names. If they introduced each other in the yard if they were aware enough it was fine. But she herself could not tell them. If Myers and the guy on the other side heard that was only because she'd had to use Danielle's name. But there was no reason for her to use theirs at this point.

“Do you need anything now?”

Danielle shook her head. Joanne handed her a huge folder through the bars.

“You need to read this; every patient gets a copy and of course yours is in Braille. If you have any questions or if there is anything you don't understand please let me know. We will bring fresh water to your cell every day and depending on behaviour, breakfast is communal. Ok? Don't worry, you'll be well looked after. If you have any questions just hit that button.”

Danielle heard her walking away as she lay back down on the bed, listening to the rattle of her keys and the crackle of her radio. She didn't have to touch it to know Joanne had a gun on her belt. She knew all the guards on this ward did. For some reason that made her nervous. Also handcuffs, a baton and pepper spray. She hadn't planned on causing trouble, but even if she had she wouldn't stand a chance. Ha. So, they thought putting it in Braille was all they had to do to get her respect? No fucking chances! She wasn't here for trying to steal chocolate after all. She was bitter, angry, and just wanted out of this life.

…

“First impressions?” Joanne asked Dr Loomis hours later. Her shift was almost over which meant the other guards had to oversee Danielle for the night. But as she'd already had her time out in the yard and her first session with Dr Loomis, she wouldn't be going anywhere until the morning.

He shrugged. “Quiet, unresponsive. I get the feeling she wants to talk but something is stopping her. Whether it's fear I don't know. But I will keep trying. I think her silence is due to depression more than anything else. It'll just take time. It's obvious she's unhappy or she wouldn't have attempted to take her own life. I intend to find out what happened and help her get through it.”

“So, you're hoping she won't be here long term?” Jack another guard asked.

“She's not criminally insane, she just needs help. Being blind on top of what happened doesn't help her. She's been brought to us for that care and help. So, let's give it to her, eh?”

“Or because her parents didn't want her,” Joanne muttered in disgust. “I read her file. Come on Sam, what else can you call that, it's despicable!”

“I agree. I think it would be fair to say we all feel sorry for her, so let's do the best we can for her ok, ladies and gentlemen. Do you think you can do this, Joanne?”

She nodded. “Yes, it shouldn't be too difficult. Just guide her to where she needs to be and make sure she's ok. I will admit I did feel sorry for her when I saw her, she's clearly gone through hell.”

…

Danielle lay on the surprisingly comfortable bed, scanning her folder. Ok so maybe she'd been a little harsh earlier. Joanne had only been trying to help and putting it in Braille was decent of them. It didn't say anything she wasn't expecting. Don't misbehave or you're in solitary and so on. She smiled bitterly to herself. The only way she'd misbehave was… No. She shook the thoughts away. There was no way in hell she'd even get close to it with all this damn security around. A couple of the male guards had come to say hi, she could tell that they were standing a good distance away by how far their voices sounded. She was thankful for this. Men terrified her after what…! She shouted at herself. Stop thinking about it! Fuck just stop thinking Hayward!

Exhaustion must have taken hold then because the next thing she knew she was woken by a harsh buzzing sound. She shot up in bed, covering her mouth. “Jesus what the fuck was that?” She yelled at no one in particular.

“Breakfast bell,” said the man on her right. “Means be ready in ten minutes. If only I could help you get ready baby. Although it'd be a lot longer than ten minutes while I fucked you. I'd love to slide my big hard cock into your dripping wet…”

“Shut the fuck up sleaze ass,” She turned away. Dick. The guy began to laugh softly. It sent a shiver down her spine. She knew the men on this ward were extremely dangerous, so she had to be very careful. Winding him up probably wasn't a good idea, but he'd pissed her off with that remark. Who the fuck did he think he was? For the first time she was thankful there were barred doors between them.

“Or” the man continued laughing. “There's the guy on your left. Never speaks that one. Although I think he's fucking awesome, I certainly wouldn't want to be alone with him, murderous son of a bitch he is! You got the short straw there didn't you babe? Me or Michael Myers?”

“Michael…” The word came out in just above a whisper and she caught her breath. She was next door to Michael Myers. Fucking hell! Of course, she knew his name, everyone did. When the government had finally helped her get a computer with a screen reading program on it, a piece of software which converted text on screen into audible speech, she had to be very careful as the internet was controlled by him, he monitored everything she did… she'd googled Myers. She loved horror, fact or fiction and Michael Myers' case was legendary. She'd been considering asking Joanne about him last night and it turned out he was in the next fucking cell? “Jesus,” she breathed.

Exactly ten minutes later the doors opened, and a group of guards came in. “Morning,” said Joanne's voice. “It's Joanne. We're just going to help our other patients out then I'll give you a hand, ok?” But she wasn't fooled. They wanted to get Myers out before her. Just in case… she shivered. He really was one very dangerous man. Fatally so. Sure enough, seconds later she heard what sounded like heavy chains being fastened from her left. Holy shit. Now she couldn't deny it. Even through her bitter and angry facade she was a little… If not unnerved, downright terrified.

“Move it, Joanne!” A guard called.

“I can't. You must… First.” She heard the hesitation even though Joanne tried to hide it. So, she'd been right.

“It's fine,” the male guard snapped. “Just move.”

Dick, she thought for the second time that morning. Now she was seriously starting to reevaluate last night's statement. Maybe Joanne really did give a damn about her, she wasn't just a name on the clipboard. Seconds later her cell door opened, and Joanne took her arm. She lent close and whispered to her guard. “I know who's on my left! The guy on my right told me. Michael fucking Myers? Jesus Christ! That's…”

“It's ok,” Joanne murmured back. “Nothing will happen to you. I promise.”

She did something she'd never expected to do then. She reached out her hand. The guard hesitated for just a second, clearly wondering if she had intent. She smiled at her slightly and Joanne relaxed and took her offered handshake.

“Sorry I was a bit… Last night. It's nice to meet you, Joanne.”

“It's fine,” her guard replied. “Everyone's a bit… Twitchy when they first arrive, and you've got extra reasons. It's nice to meet you too and I'll do all I can to help you while you're here. Come on.”

Joanne could hardly believe she'd heard her speak, but against her job's rules she decided to keep this exchange to herself. She seemed to trust her, and Joanne wouldn't break it by telling Dr Loomis or anyone else. She guided her newest charge down the corridor.

Danielle heard the clink of chains right beside her seconds later and felt her blood run cold. She didn't have to be told Michael Myers was walking right beside her. She couldn't stop a slight shiver and Joanne must've felt it because she softly tightened her grip.

“It's ok,” she whispered again.

They entered the dining room of the high care ward in silence. She felt strangely comforted when Joanne didn't leave her side even once, but eating was an issue. She'd struggled with it right up until her attempt on her life and she couldn't see that changing soon. Joanne tried to persuade her to eat something and unlike with previous people, she didn't snap back at her.

She knew Joanne was sincerely trying to help. Or if she wasn't she was a damn good actress. If she was tricking her, she would get her back somehow.

“Where is he?” She breathed to Joanne.

“It's ok, he's on the other side of the room,” Joanne said softly. “You're perfectly safe.”

…

At college She really thought things were starting to look up. She graduated with a bachelor's degree in English Literature and Music without too much trouble. It seemed to her that as people grew up, they were less prone to bullying. Well, the ones she was working with anyway. She had a great support network and even managed to make a few friends. The college helped her get the equipment and Braille documents she needed to pass her courses. It wasn't until her third-year things took a sharp turn. Not that she realised it at first. That was when she met him.

…

After breakfast the patients were led out into the huge exercise yard. Once again Joanne was with her the whole time. The odd patient approached her and even said ‘hi.’ She was surprised but she didn't answer, just managed a weak smile. That was a first for her though. She hadn't smiled in almost a year. To her total and complete shock, her cane had been handed to her in the dining room. It seemed someone had explained how important it was. She felt so much better once she was holding it in her hand again. She thanked whoever it was from the bottom of her heart. People who could see didn't have a clue how important it was or how it made you feel when holding it. As if you had some semblance of control for a start. Independence.

A little while later they were led back to their cells. As she walked, her cane lightly touched someone's arm.

“Sorry Sir,” she said softly. No response. She turned to Joanne who pulled her slightly to the side. She was right. Oh Jesus, had she just hit the arm of Michael Myers?

“Shit, was that…” She breathed to Joanne who simply said, “Its ok.”

Well, she reasoned, as Joanne locked her cell door, she was in here for attempting suicide as it was, that accidental hit may have just helped her get there all the faster.

“Didn't realise you were into that sort of stuff,” the guy on her right mocked her. “But I don't think Michael Myers is! I am though. Do that to me instead next time baby and I'll fuck you until you bleed.” She felt her blood go cold. Of all the people to see what had happened, him, the sexual predator next to her. So, she had just hit Michael Myers. Good thing you want to die as it is, she thought. Because you just signed your fucking death warrant.

…

An hour later, she was taken to her session with Dr Loomis. She was still determined to remain silent. What was the point? How would talking to this guy change anything? Him. He'd left her with so many fucking scars she knew no man would ever look at her again let alone touch her, even if she did regain her courage and confidence which he'd taken from her. This was a waste of both their time. She didn't say a word during the whole session, even as Dr Loomis probed. She couldn't bring herself to speak. If she started talking about it all she thought, she'd really go insane and then they would seriously have something to worry about. Afterwards she was guided back to her cell, wondering what the hell Dr Loomis had gained from that. She smirked. Keep trying shrink. To her surprise, Joanne hadn't taken her cane when she was locked back in in the night. Someone had obviously said something. Again, she thanked whoever it was.

…

Tonight, sleep was an impossibility. She lay still on her bed unable to stop the memories flashing across her mind. Particularly the last one. She tried and tried but they were like audible recordings playing through massive speakers. It was useless. In the end she got up and poured a glass of water from the plastic jug. She felt it carefully. No sharp edges whatsoever. Fuck! Just one that was all she'd need to… She wasn't sure when she did eventually drift off to sleep.

…

The breakfast buzzer sounded the next morning and this time she was ready for it. She'd woken up an hour ago and slipped back into her clothes, hoping against hope she could get a shower soon. She was exhausted. Her night had been awful. She thought about feeling the jug for a sharp edge and not finding one. She cursed. Why did they want her around so badly anyway? She'd lost her few friends when Adam had… Done what he had and as for her parents… She shook that thought away. She had to. It was too horrible and made her too angry if she thought about it too much.

Joanne arrived and led her into the dining room. This time when using her cane, she was more cognizant of the those around her. Hitting either of the men on either side of her could be terrible in their own ways. Raped or killed. Which was worse? She was surprised to find that she was able to eat a little something. She was starving. She hadn't even realised until she took a bite.

“Hungry this morning?” Joanne asked. She’d just nodded at her. The guard touched her arm.

The next few days fell into the usual routine Danielle had come to expect in Smith's Grove. Breakfast, yard time, return to cells. Then a little later a session with her psychiatrist. Evening meals and lunch were served in the cells, passed through a small hatch in the door. Never very exciting, microwave ready meals or sandwiches at lunchtime. Coffee, tea, hot chocolate or a range of cold drinks, in plastic cups with plastic cutlery of course. She wasn't sure why only breakfast was served in the dining room but found that she didn't really care. Doubtless there was a reason, some policy or another. She was starting to wish she could let herself trust Dr Loomis. He genuinely seemed to care about his patients. But she just couldn't. How could she disclose to another man, any man, what Adam had done to her? The answer was simple. She couldn't. He'd say it was her fault because she was ugly, or… So, she resolutely refused to speak in their sessions. But Dr Loomis never seemed to lose his patience. He kept pressing and encouraging her and she was sure that one day soon if he kept talking to her like that she'd crack. After one session once securely back in her cell, she cried for the first time since she got there.

…

One day Danielle was standing in the exercise yard with Joanne at her side. It was cold. She pulled her jacket around her trying to keep warm. Suddenly someone asked Joanne a question and she turned to answer it. Danielle took several steps forward with the aid of her cane. She needed some damn exercise and if her guard was just going to stand there talking then she would go on her own. Joanne had told her that the yard was huge with very few obstacles. A few seconds later, she felt her cane's tip make contact with something. Something hard. It took her a minute to realise what it was. A concrete block. Fear jabbed at her heart. She'd crossed Michael Myers' yellow line. That was one of the first things Joanne had told her about. 'We'll make sure you never cross it accidentally,' she'd said. Well, that'd been wrong, hadn't it? Because here she was right now. She started to turn when she felt something she never would've expected. A soft hand rest on her arm. She turned back, raising her own free hand which lightly came into contact with a shirt sleeve. She didn't have to guess as to who's it was.

"Are you Mr. Myers?" she breathed, only the second person to hear her speak. The hand didn't leave her arm. She took that as his silent yes. "My name is Danielle. I tried to kill myself and that's why I'm here." She laughed a little bitterly, only realising then that Myers would've seen the huge scar across her face. She lowered her head quickly, feeling scrutinised. "Not a pretty sight huh?" She said softly. "Nope, I know I'm not. Don't have to be able to see myself to know that. Been told that more than enough times to know it. Thank God I'm totally blind then huh? I don't have to look in the mirror. I'd break it." The man she was pretty sure was Myers squeezed her arm then released her. With the aid of her cane, she walked back to where Joanne was still talking away.

…

"WHAT THE DAMN HELL WERE YOU DOING?"

Samuel Loomis wasn't normally the type of man who yelled. He preferred to talk although right now he was fuming. Scratch that, furious. Joanne had seriously endangered one of their high-risk patients, who was totally blind to boot.

"SHE CROSSED MICHAEL MYERS' LINE, JOANNE! DO YOU HEAR ME? HIS LINE! ALL BECAUSE YOU WERE GOSSIPING AWAY TO JAMIE! HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU THERE IS NO FRATERNIZING AT WORK? ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU HAVE A TOTALLY BLIND PATIENT ON YOUR DAMN WATCH!"

Joanne stared at Dr Loomis unable to speak. She knew his anger was more than justified. She'd turned just as Danielle had walked across the yellow line back towards her. She was amazed Myers hadn't touched her, chains or not. God knew he'd had a good enough chance; she'd been standing right next to him probably without even knowing it.

"WELL?"

"What do you want me to say Sam?" Joanne looked away. "I'm sorry I was foolish, just stupid. I let my attention laps at just the wrong second and for too long. You're totally right to be angry, I can only apologise."

Dr Loomis took a deep breath trying to calm himself. "He could've done anything to her," he said, quieter now. "Anything, Joanne. Yes, even killed her. It's a damn miracle he didn't touch her."

"Is she ok?"

Dr Loomis sighed. "She's fine. Wouldn't say anything to me when I asked, but she doesn't seem affected by it. Luckily for you. You know Joanne I'm seriously tempted to discipline you for this. I can't believe you could be so careless. I asked you when she arrived if you'd rather not do it, I wasn't being sarcastic despite what you may think. That was a genuine question. If you're not up for the job, I can find someone else. I can't ask one of the men, so it would be Jamie, or I'll call one of the female guards over from one of the other wards. Tell me Joanne, what choice do I have? We can't risk this happening again, not even close. She was damn lucky! Do you not get that? So why should I not do it?"

"I get it," Joanne nodded, feeling close to tears. They weren't for herself either. They were for Danielle, a both mentally and physically scarred woman who'd given Joanne her trust and this was how she paid her back? By letting her cross the warning line of a cold-blooded killer. She felt terrible. "You know," she said, sinking into a chair. "She has spoken to me a few times Sam. She trusts me and this is how I show her she can? Jesus! I decided not to tell you so as not to break her trust. But… Fuck I feel terrible."

"I guessed she trusts you," Dr Loomis said finally, after a short pause. "I can tell by the way you two interact. What did Jamie want anyway?"

"She was just asking me about something on TV last night," Joanne said. "I should've kept it quick or at the very least kept my eyes on her. She may not be able to see me, but she was in my care, and I should've just talked to Jamie without looking at her. I take full responsibility for what happened."

Dr Loomis sighed again. "At least you know and can admit that to me, not to mention yourself. That's one reason I am giving you a second chance. But if anything, even close to this happens again I will have no choice but to relieve you of your job and take disciplinary action against you. Are we clear?"

"As a bell," Joanne nodded. "I really am so sorry."

…

The next day Danielle was surprised to learn that she had a session with a female doctor named Dr Stark. Had Dr Loomis given up on her already? She didn't expect the small twinge of Sadness when she found out that she wouldn't be talking to Dr Loomis that day. But why, she couldn't have said.

Dr Stark was just as gentle, not pushing her for answers. As usual, she didn't give any. She also noticed that Joanne seemed to be being especially vigilant. So, it was Myers she'd spoken to the day before. She was almost certain anyway, but this just proved it. She almost wished she could tell her guard what she'd said to him and his gentle hand on her arm. But she knew she couldn't. But she did find herself hoping Joanne hadn't gotten into trouble for what'd happened. Myers hadn't hurt her, and she'd made the decision to walk away from her, Joanne hadn't done anything.

…

That night, the memories returned along with the pain, humiliation, his shouts. Danielle stood up and banged her hand against the bars of her cell door. She just needed a release for her hatred, anger, and desperate longing for it just to be over. God damn it! She thought. I only want to die! Why the fuck do they want me around anyway? "Just kill me someone! Please?" To her horror she realised she'd spoken those last words out loud, then the mocking sneering voice came from her right.

"I told you baby. Just ask Michael Myers on your left there. He'll willingly do it for you. But wait until I've fucked you first." She cried herself to sleep that night too.

…

The next morning when Joanne came for her, Danielle wouldn't even speak to her guard. Not even when she asked, "are you all right?" Doubtlessly noticing her red eyes. She couldn't bring herself to respond. Right then she felt as worthless as Adam had always said she was.

They went down to breakfast in silence, and she once again couldn't eat. She drank half a cup of tea but even the thought of food made her stomach nauseous. Thankfully, Joanne didn't push her much.

After breakfast they headed into the yard again. She released Joanne's arm from hers and walked forward with Joanne right at her side this time, her attention completely on her. She reached Myers' line and knew this when Joanne put a hand on her shoulder, stopping her. Joanne could hardly believe what Danielle did then. She turned to her and smiled before shaking her head and pulling back before stepping across the yellow line.

Instantly three other guards ran over but made no attempt to stop her, probably because Myers couldn't reach her due to his chains. She moved forward until once again her cane hit the concrete block.

"Hi Mr. Myers," she said softly. She heard the clink of chains and knew he was as close as he could get to her but still couldn't reach her.

"You know," she continued, keeping her voice low so only he could hear her. "If you could, I really would like to ask you to kill me. That asshole on my other side though seriously pissing me off, is right. I know you'd be willing to do it. He just needs to watch out for his dick or God help me I'll cut the fucking thing off!"

She didn't know if she was crazy or stupid then. She took a step forward and felt her arm touch his. Now the guards ran forward but one of the men shouted something she didn't hear. Everything seemed to freeze at what happened next, even the guards. Shocked she found that she couldn't move. Because that was when Myers took her hand in his. It was surprisingly warm and strong. She squeezed it and smiled at the killer, not quite able to believe this. He was the first man she'd been close to since everything had happened, and he was goddam Michael Myers.

One of the guards must've pressed a silent alarm because the next second she heard people running. She didn't know who it was until one of the guards said, "What do we do Sam?" Only then did she realise it was Dr Loomis.

She heard the psychiatrist approaching and although he tried to conceal it, he gasped in shock. Slowly, Dr Samuel Loomis turned his head to face the guards. "Nothing," he said quietly.

…

When Danielle was taken back to her cell ten minutes later, she felt something in her chest. She dared not name it, because it felt remarkably like Hope, Peace. Things she hadn't dared name since it'd happened. A man had noticed her, held her hand! Myers in fact hadn't let go of it until they'd been led back. She had stood there with her hand in his, liking every second of it. That hadn't happened since Adam, before he showed his true colours. Goosebumps ran down her arms. But him, of all men? Michael Myers? Why had he held her hand and not strangled her with both of his? When she heard Myers being led into his cell on her left, she turned her head and gave him a small smile. "Thanks, Mr. Myers."

…

Dr Samuel Loomis had never been shocked by this job. He prided himself on it. He was usually able to conceal his emotions well from everyone, sometimes even himself and that was how he liked it. But not today. Today for the first time in twenty years he was genuinely shocked and hadn't been able to conceal it. Michael Myers had been holding Danielle Hayward's hand. Not to keep her there either. It'd been a gentle, almost comforting grip. Michael Myers, the man who Dr Loomis had described for fifteen years as 'pure evil, there's nothing left.' He was having a hard time putting the two of them into the same man. But it was, there was no denying it. He'd seen it with his own eyes.

When Joanne had come to talk to him about it looking just as shocked as he felt, she'd asked if she was in trouble for not reacting. He'd just said 'no,' admitting that in truth none of them had not even him. But he had made the snap decision not to separate the two of them. Whatever this was, it may help them both. If Michael Myers had found a trace of humanity and Danielle was getting male comfort, then that was perfect as far as he was concerned. Maybe there was hope for both of them yet. From each other no less.

A few minutes later there was a knock on the door. Dr Loomis opened it to allow in Ryan and Jack, two of his best guards. "Hey. You two, ok?"

"I…" Ryan's voice was shocked. "I'm still not sure I can believe what I just saw there. Now please let me make it clear right now," he gave Dr Loomis a small grin. "You're the boss, we're just the security guards, we do as you say. But wasn't that a huge risk you just took by stopping us?"

Dr Loomis smiled back, appreciating the question. "I completely understand what you're saying Ryan and there's no need for the tact beforehand," he smiled at the other man. "But I promise you. That was hopefully a major step forward for both of them."

There was another knock and Gemma Stark entered. "Ah, perfect." He continued. "Just in time. As I was saying, this may be a major step forward for both of them. Think about it, people. We've got a totally blind woman who's already attempted suicide once and a silent cold-blooded killer. She approaches him and he holds her hand! I mean come on! This is Michael Myers people! He's holding a blind woman's hand. To keep her there? Didn't look like it to me. That looked like comfort, reassurance. Now I'm not saying this is definite, but I normally trust my instincts."

"So, what do we do about possible further interaction between them?" Jack asked. "When she first arrived, we were under strict orders to keep them apart. That doesn't look like the case now from what just happened to me. How do we know for instance he's not just luring her into a false sense of security? Gaining her trust before he strikes and attempts to kill her?"

"That's not Myers' M.O," Dr Stark said speaking for the first time. "He doesn't normally care about trust, he just kills. Bang! He's never before taken time to get to know a victim before killing them. Hmmm," she hesitated. "I agree with Sam here, what just happened was indeed a shock to all of us, but I honestly don't think he's building up for an attack."

"You're the experts," Ryan shrugged, still looking unconvinced. "We'll do as you say but…"

"We're also security guards," Jack added. "Doctors I for one am not going to lie. If I see something which I think indicates risk, I will step in. It's what I'm trained to do. If I'm proved wrong tell me so afterwards." Ryan nodded to his colleague. "That's exactly what I was going to say."

"Fair enough," Dr Loomis said. "We can't argue with that. But by the same token we would also ask you to trust our judgement as you did just now. I mean hell if it's blatantly obvious, if he has her by the throat then of course. But otherwise…" The guards nodded.

…

Danielle lay in her cell, unable to stop thinking about what just happened. Michael Myers, the cold-blooded killer had held her hand. Not just briefly either. He hadn't let go until they had to return to their cells. Michael Myers? She could still hardly believe it and if she hadn't felt it for herself wasn't sure she would have. She sighed to herself in the silence. She meant what she'd said to him. 'If you could, I'd ask you to kill me.' She couldn't understand why Smith's Grove at least were so keen to keep her alive. Who would miss her? Her parents left her, and she was forced to abandon all of her friends because of him. Stop it for fuck's sake! She shouted at herself. Just stop! They made their decision, they're not worth it! But how could they? Said another quieter voice in her head. How the fuck could they do that to me? Silently, she let herself cry.

…

"Give me your fucking phone and make sure the screen is on or you know what will happen." She nodded meekly, doing as she was told. She'd long since learned that there was no point in arguing or trying to disobey him, it only made things worse. She turned off voiceover on her iPhone and handed it over. "Good girl," he said, already looking through her texts. But she was one step ahead of the bastard. She'd deleted anything which may be considered as suspicious, even a 'hey how are you?' From any of her male friends. As long as she kept remembering to do that, she was safe. That was all well and good when he came home for the evening, but if he asked for her phone during the day and she wasn't expecting it she had no time to prepare. Those were the worst times. Absently, she rubbed the huge bruise on her forehead and winced. Damn, it hurt. He hit her with a closed fist.

"Appears you have nothing to worry about tonight then babe," he handed her back her phone. "Now get my dinner going and then I'm going to fuck you. Move! Everything's there for you to find."

She could hardly believe she'd wound up in this situation. When she started college, it had really looked like she was on the way up. She had good friends, a great support network and was doing well at her studies. Why, why had she met him at the student bar that day? Why had she let him so deep into her life? Her heart?

The day had started like any other. She'd just finished her English class and had gone to the student café. Knowing where it was, having been taught on one of her many mobility sessions around the place. She'd gone up to the counter, the worker greeting her with a cheerful, "Hey, what can I get you?" They all knew her by now of course. She'd ordered her usual coffee and bagel, taking a seat at one of the tables the worker guided her to.

"Hey there," said a male voice. She at first wasn't sure if he was talking to her or not, until he touched her arm. "How are you? I'm Adam."

So, the conversation had continued. She'd talked to him until her next class, then saw him in the café again the next day. This went on for the next three days until they finally swapped numbers. They talked on the phone almost daily and texted constantly. She probably should've paid attention to the red flags she was noticing instead of dismissing them. The where are you? Or what are you doing and who with? messages. But she just ignored them as romantic interest. More fool her. Now she realised how naïve she'd been. As time went on, they grew closer and closer until one day, it'd finally happened. He'd asked her out on a date. He'd taken her to a lovely restaurant for dinner and kissed her goodnight on her doorstep, guiding her as if he'd known how to for years. She had never felt happier.

She'd finished her courses with a solid 4.0, much to her delight and that was when he'd asked her to move in with him. She was looking for an apartment at the time, having lived in a dorm room at the college. This was like a dream come true for her. She was going to live with the man she loved and not have to worry about renting an apartment. She almost couldn't believe it. As time went on though, she started to realise too late that she may have walked straight into his trap. 'You're not seeing those friends tonight,' he'd say. When she'd ask why, he'd reply 'because I said so.' She soon learned that she was powerless. She knew some of the local streets where they lived but was too afraid to even walk to a store or call for help, terrified that he might be listening or standing behind her and she wouldn't have any idea.

Then came the text from her parents which had changed her life forever.

Danielle, this is where we say goodbye. We have done our best for you while you were growing up, but now you're totally independent and on your own two feet, we don't want to have anything further to do with you. We never wanted a blind daughter. We wish you well, but you're not perfect so we don't want you. Goodbye.

She had read the message at least twice, unable to believe her ears then deleted it. She didn't want Adam to see it. It was her business, and that controlling bastard wouldn't get anywhere near it. She just thanked God (if he existed) that this particular text had come at a time when she was able to delete it before he checked her phone.

"Right, dinner was ok, but you could do better, now come to bed. I want to fuck. Move." She had long since learned that when he made this demand, resisting was useless. The first time she tried to resist was when she'd received a black eye. She didn't have to see it to know, she could feel it. It'd hurt for about a week and swollen to at least twice its normal size. He never praised her cooking. If God forbid, she left a tiny piece of eggshell or something in his food, even though it was obvious she didn't know, she paid the price for it. This continued for almost a year, until the final day when she realised there was only one way out.

"I told you not to talk to him, you slut!" Adam yelled, grabbing her by her neck. "You do as I say!"

"I'm sorry Sir," she whimpered. That was another thing. She'd never been allowed to call him Adam from the moment she'd moved in. That'd been one of his house rules. "You do as I say, you cook me dinner every night. I work hard and I want it ready when I come in. You don't talk to or see your friends. You give me your bank card. You clean the house." She could cope with most of those, but it'd been the last one which was the hardest. "You also address me as Sir. Do you understand?"

At first, she'd thought he was joking, but he'd soon proved her wrong when she'd called him Adam by pouring boiling water over her. The burns had been agonising, but he wouldn't let her seek help, he just threw a jar of salve at her. "Use that," he'd said. "Stop bitching."

"What?" He'd said to her on that horrific day. "Want a good fucking, do you?" Before he'd slammed her to the table, unzipped his jeans before cutting her pants off with a knife and thrust his dick into her. No care, no tenderness. It'd made her bleed. She remembered that. He'd held the knife against her face as he raped her. It was then that she felt utterly hopeless. No more, she'd thought as he continued to viciously rape her. No more, I can't take any more of this, I need a way out and there's only one I can take. As he came, he'd cut her face, resulting in the worst scar she had. This not taking into account the many burns, punches and so on she'd had to endure over the past year.

With the cut across her face streaming blood, she went out the back, into their small garage where Adam kept his tools and within seconds found what she was looking for. A long length of rope. With shaky hands, she fastened it into a noose. This was how she'd be able to escape him permanently. She'd learned how to tie knots years ago while in girl scouts and she was now exceptionally thankful for this. Standing on a chair, she fastened the noose to one of the high slats and then around her neck. All she had to do now was jump. So, she did.

…

"You, ok?" Joanne asked the next morning as she walked with her to breakfast. She gave her a small nod. "You look pale," Joanne said. "You sure you're alright?"

This time she managed a small smile at the guard. "I didn't sleep too well last night," she admitted eventually. "Bad dreams."

"I'm sorry," Joanne said sympathetically. "If you talk to one of the doctors, they can prescribe you sleeping pills."

She nodded. "Thanks, but I think I'm ok." Privately though she thought one more dream like that and she just might have to. But then she thought about how the dream had ended and felt herself blushing. No way could she tell Michael about it. Although she kind of wished she could. Wo Hayward! She shouted at herself. You're thinking about what it would be like if Michael Myers made love to you? After what Adam did? Jesus' girl! What's wrong with you? I'm starting to believe again in hope, said a quiet voice in her head. Is that it? You can't! The other voice snapped. Hope maybe, but not love! Don't let any man get too close! You can't do it! Not again!

…

"Hello," Dr Stark said when she entered the room for her session. "Dr Loomis has asked me if I can work with you for a short while, given what you disclosed to us yesterday. That took a lot of bravery. My field is more domestic violence and suicide than his is. Is that ok with you?" She nodded. "Fine," she said quietly. Hell, they were in charge, not her and it appeared they genuinely were trying to help her get better.

"I'll talk to you," she said softly. "But can I ask one question?" She gave the doctor an embarrassed smile. "Where are you? I can hear your voice through the speakers, but where are you?"

"I'm sorry, hold on a second." There was a soft click as the speakers were turned off. Then there was a whirring sound and the window in front of her slid down smoothly. "I'm here," Dr Stark said and touched her hand.

"I take it you're not supposed to do that?" She smiled at Dr Stark. Dr Stark squeezed her hand. "No, but we don't consider you a risk," She could tell by her voice that she was smiling. "I'll keep it open for you if it makes you feel more at ease."

"It does," she said truthfully. "Can't lie, I like to know where the person I'm talking to is as opposed to a disembodied voice."

"I understand that" Dr Stark said and lightly touched her arm again. "No problem, this is how we'll work from here on in. Ok, would you mind going back to the beginning for me? How did you meet Adam?"

She took a deep breath and once again began telling her story. She had no idea how freeing it would feel to tell the real story. She told her about college, the student café, Adam's charm and how he'd shown his true colours after she moved in with him and how he had her trapped. "That's what scares me," she said eventually, reaching for the doctor's hand again without thinking. Dr Stark took it and squeezed. "What the hell is going on with me and Mr. Myers? He's a killer and yet he's looking out for me! What else can you call what happened? I'm trying to tell myself it's nothing. I don't want to come across as one of these desperate people who jumps at the first sign that a man gives a damn! For all I know, if or when I leave here, Mr. Myers might not want any further contact with me."

"Why don't you ask him? He may not use his voice, but I'm sure he'll find another way to communicate how he feels to you. Are you going to let Adam destroy your life? I understand believe me I do but you have to live. You're still alive after all."

"Only because I was found," She muttered. "I wouldn't be otherwise, damn it!"

"Ah, but then you wouldn't have met Michael. Would you take that experience back?"

"Come on Dr Stark!" She lightly hit the small table on her side of the glass. "Please! It doesn't mean anything to him. He's just…" Trying to help me? A cold blooded killer? Looking out for me? Just…"

"Just?" Dr Stark prompted. "Just what?"

"Ah fucking hell! I don't know! We're both trapped here, he's probably just wanting female companionship. If we were out in public, he'd probably have killed me already!"

"Do you really think that?" Dr Stark asked. "Really?"

"Um not maybe," she said sarcastically. "He's a fucking serial killer!"

"Be honest with me here. If I gave you back that noose right now and said jump, would you?"

She opened her mouth to say yes immediately but found that she couldn't. She actually found herself considering the doctor's question. Would she? Even if Myers didn't care about her, wanting no further contact once she left. Had he given her the confidence to live on and try again? Or would she just slump back into depression when she had to leave? "I… I don't know," she said sincerely. "I can't say for sure either way."

"Well, that's a good start," Dr Stark said, "better than a straight out yes."

"That's what I almost said," She admitted. "But something made me stop and think."

"I know. I saw it in your face. I think that "something" was the interaction between you and Michael Myers."

"Come on!" She felt exasperated. "He's just… I don't know! Looking out for me or something. That's all it is! Like I say if we weren't in here, I'd be dead now."

"If you say so," Dr Stark said quietly. "We'll have to agree to disagree."

"You're crazy," She muttered. She could hear the smile in the doctor's voice when she replied. "Perhaps, we'll see. Even if you're right and it turns out he doesn't want further to contact, he's given you confidence. Would you be able to take that on without it?"

"I know most people would say what you want to hear to be released," She smiled faintly. "But I'm not going to do that. I don't know. I'm desperately trying not to get too close to him. Emotionally I mean. I hardly know the guy and yet I feel like I know everything about him! God knows I've studied him enough."

"I see your point, but I think you're forgetting one thing. He won't have had much care either. So, I think he may be thinking the exact same thing you are."

She opened her mouth to say, 'no way,' but Dr Stark stopped her. "Just hear me out, ok? I think you should try and ask him and if he wants you to know something he'll find a way to tell you. Haven't you considered that he has scars of his own? Ok you can't see them, none of us can, but that doesn't mean they're any less painful than physical ones. Again, you may be helping him in exactly the same way he's helping you. Don't just assume it's all about you. Consider this from Michael's perspective." She was stunned into silence. If truth be told she hadn't. Not really. Did that make her selfish?

"No," Dr Stark said as if reading her mind. How the hell did psychiatrists do that? "You're not selfish, you're hurting. You don't feel that you can trust a man and the fact that one may need your help as much as you need his is of course going to be a strange idea to you after what Adam did. Just take time to think about it ok. Just consider what I've said to you. There are two of you in this situation. Do you want my honest opinion?"

She nodded. "Of course."

"You're scared to get close to him, how do you know he's not scared to get close to you? Like you say, he's a killer. But love can change anyone's heart, melt the hardest façade. Why are you finding this so hard to believe? I know what you're going to say. Because you have scars because of what Adam did. Correct? Well, I'll tell you something, not all men are Adam. Then your next argument will be but he's a killer. Yes? But you know something? He's still a man. You've read Myers' case," She nodded. "Then you'll know that Dr Loomis thinks there's nothing left, he feels nothing. For the first time in years, I'm starting to think he might be wrong and it's you who's bringing it out in him. He's only human just like you. You both have a past; you both have fears. Yes," she added before Danielle could speak. "I believe that even Michael Myers has fears. You may be the one to help him face his just as it seems he is helping you face yours. Stop fighting it, just see where it goes. I'll level with you; you won't be going anywhere for a while yet so you both have time to explore your thoughts and feelings. Unless there's anything else, this concludes today's session," Dr Stark said, squeezing her hand a final time.

Joanne walked in and Danielle stood up, slipped her arm through hers and this time she didn't try so hard to burst the bubble which was expanding in her heart for the first time since that day. This time she could also put a name to it. Hope.

…

Adam strolled into his house, whistling. He was in good spirits. Ok so he was on bail for alleged ‘domestic abuse.’ Ok so that blind bitch had friends trying to bring him down. They couldn't prove half of what they were alleging. He smirked to himself. 'Good luck trying.' She was in the nuthouse for attempting to commit suicide after all. Who'd believe her now? He felt his cock hardening as he thought of Charlotte. She'd fancied him for ages while he'd been showing that bitch who was boss. She'd waited though, not believing anything her friends said about him. That was all well and good because it meant that in time, Adam would also take Charlotte under his control. She would also do as he said just as Danielle had. He grinned as he remembered the day, he'd approached Charlotte in the little store she worked in and asked her out for coffee on her lunch break.

“I've broken up with her,” he’d said, keeping his voice casual, as if it was just a throwaway comment. Charlotte's eyes had widened immediately. Bingo, he thought.

“Really?” She asked, looking up at him with her brown eyes. He however was thinking of her tits and her… He blinked. “Yeah,” he kept his voice casual. That was all he wanted a woman for, that was their only purpose in life after all. “Why?”

“Ah you know,” he gave her his most charming smile as he flagged over the waitress and asked for two more coffees, indicating he was paying. Ah, it was so easy to get bitches into bed. Just flash your money around and pretend you give a shit. She'd soon wish she'd never known him. “Just wasn't working out. She was nuts.”

“Isn't she in the loony bin?” Charlotte asked. Adam nodded, pretending to be affected.

“Yeah,” he sighed. “I don't know why. I did everything I could to make her happy and…” He sighed again. “It just wasn't enough.”

“I'm so sorry,” Charlotte said, and he inwardly cheered, but put a sad smile on his face. “Thanks.” He could almost see the bitch thinking yes! Now I can have him for myself! Oh, he'd be the one having her before too long. No 'Adam' from her mouth. She'd call him Sir just as Danielle had, she'd let him fuck her whenever he wanted. Maybe he'd drive her to the same end. Adam had no problem admitting it. He hated women. They only existed to please men and he was only too happy to pretend he cared about them if it got him fucked a few times and then out the door they went. He wasn't worried about Danielle. He'd managed to paint her in the light he wanted. Insane. He'd never get caught for any of the so-called atrocities he'd committed. The assaults, rapes, nope, he was in the clear. Now Charlotte was his next victim.

“I never liked that blind bitch anyway,” Charlotte said, and Adam had to force himself to pay attention, to stop himself wondering what her pussy looked like… “I didn't like the fact that someone who can't even see got a higher score on the course than me. It's not right!” Adam smirked to himself. She's way cleverer than you, you stupid bitch, he thought, loathed as he was to admit it. Charlotte was drop dead gorgeous. But he nodded sympathetically, murmuring “I know,” as he saw her trying not to lean closer to him. Perfect. Got you.

He sat down at his computer and turned it on, looking through that bitch’s internet history. He always monitored what his cunt did online. They weren't allowed access to certain sites if they involved money or domestic violence help. He had a lot of websites blocked on the account he gave them. Oh, how he loved being a tech guy. It meant he could do whatever he wanted, had total control. Looking through her history now, he smirked as he saw she'd had to buy a new cane. He'd allowed it, but boy had she'd had to pay him back for it. Three nights of straight fucking from what he remembered. Oh, that'd been just fabulous. It was only because he'd intentionally broken her old one by bending it. He would clear her history when he was done and had just reached the last page when he paused. Michael Myers? What the fuck? He'd missed that it seemed.

Clicking on the website, he saw it was a page all about the notorious killer who apparently hadn't lived too far from where he lived now in Haddonfield. It seemed she had had some kind of warped fascination with the guy. Adam didn't care either way. Especially not if he killed women. That was just fine. If Myers ever came after him… Try it Mr. Boogeyman, he thought with a grin. I'm almost as tall as you, take me on I dare you! Just try it, you masked psycho! Chuckling aloud to himself at that thought, he cleared her history. It was time to start making Charlotte think she was being looked after, when in reality she was about to enter her own living hell.

“Thanks Adam,” Charlotte gushed at the dinner he'd laid out for her. Of course, he'd made it look nice, the table and so on but all he'd really done was buy cheap microwave curry. As long as he kept up appearances… “This looks lovely.”

“You're welcome, babe,” he winked, and Charlotte blushed. He could almost see her heart rate speed up. He called me babe! Stupid bitch!' Adam could hardly believe how easy it was. He had Charlotte in bed that very first night. Oh yeah, he thought as he slid his cock into her for the first time. Albeit this one was consensual. Others… Oh, fuck yeah. Adam thought. So, so fucking wet… So easy…

…

“Morning,” Joanne said as she walked with Danielle to breakfast the next morning. “Are you ok?”

Danielle nodded, saying nothing.

“You look tired,” the guard prodded.

Danielle couldn’t help it and smiled at her. She wasn't getting off the hook that easily it seemed. “How are you so perceptive?”

“Ha,” Joanne laughed. “Trained eye.”

“Just didn't get much sleep last night,” she said truthfully. “Just thinking about… Things and I couldn't close my eyes.”

At that moment her cane made contact with something with a loud thud. Joanne looked down and cursed as did one of Myers' male guards.

“How many times have I told the cleaners not to leave those damn signs there?” She guided her around it. “You, ok?”

“Yeah,” She nodded. “That's what my cane's for. It hits things before I do… Well in theory it does,” she smiled a little more genuinely this time. “But if I hadn't had it, well yeah. Accident material.”

Joanne chuckled as Myers' guard moved the sign out of their way. “I'll still be saying something though, that's a damn safety hazard!”

Previously in life she would've hated this, considering it patronising. But somehow from Joanne's lips it sounded genuine. She smiled at her again. “Thanks Joanne.”

“That's one lethal weapon there,” one of Michael's guards said and she knew by his tone he was joking. She knew his voice now and laughed, smiling at him.

“No chance Rick, it's really flimsy. It bends so damn easily. It's frustrating. A bruise yeah, can't tell you how many times I've hit someone's ankles, accidentally of course and they bruise.”

“Oh yes,” Rick laughed. “Of course. An accident. Hmm.”

She grinned. “Of course! Don't know what you're talking about!” All three guards laughed with her, and she felt her heart warm.

Just before they entered the dining room Joanne pulled her closer against her side. She didn't want to ask, but seconds later she got her answer as she heard the soft mocking laughter of her right-hand block mate. She didn't realise she'd shuddered until Joanne moved her arm, so her hand touched hers.

“That guy gives me the creeps,” She whispered to Joanne, also sensing that Myers' guards had stepped closer to them. Respect and gratitude filled her. “The very first day he was making sexual remarks. Normally I'd shrug it off, but that guy scares me. Something tells me he means what he says.”

“Jefferson!” Rick snapped. “Keep moving!”

“Easy boys,” the man drawled. “Free country, isn't it? A man can take his time.”

“I'm warning you Jefferson,” Myers' other guard snapped. She couldn't remember his name. “Move!” She stepped behind Joanne. She knew enough to know her guard's tall frame would block her from Jefferson's line of sight. “Too bad,” Jefferson drawled lowly. “That was a good show.”

She heard the harsh clink of chains. Shit. Myers had tensed due to this exchange. “Jefferson,” Rick said. “Get out of here! Now! This is your last warning, or we will use force.”

“Jesus,” Jefferson sneered. “What's the problem? “Just looking at a woman's tits, why…”

She heard a muffled yell and was pretty sure Rick or the other guard had just been shoved back. There was a clang as flesh made contact with the wall. The doors and walls were made from heavy steel, with concrete on the outside. She heard Jefferson's gasps for air, then a deafening alarm. Joanne quickly led her away.

…

“Are you ok?” Dr Stark asked Danielle an hour later in their session. She nodded. Despite not having seen what'd happened, she was shaken up.

“Did…” she asked tentatively. “Did he make it? Jefferson?”

“Only just,” Dr Stark said grimly. “It took six guards to pull Michael back. He's extremely protective of you that's for sure.”

“But why?” She asked. “He hardly knows me and…”

“Yet he's held your hand,” Dr Stark finished her sentence for her. “He empathises if nothing else. That's so obvious. Jefferson said the wrong thing to the wrong person. Michael is in his cell. He's dangerous right now.”

“Don't have to tell me that,” She shivered at the thought. “What did he do exactly? To Jefferson?”

“Slammed him against the wall and almost strangled him. Jefferson had to go to the hospital by ambulance. He was unconscious. A few more seconds and he would've…”

“Can't say I'm very sorry,” she muttered.

“That's why Michael isn't in solitary,” Dr Stark said. “He was provoked, as were you. Another reason I asked if you're alright.”

“I hate that fucker, he makes me nervous,” She admitted. “Hence why I'm not that sorry about what happened, or what almost happened to him today. But what I don't understand is why? Why did Michael get so riled up just from Jefferson winding me up to the point of killing him? Michael doesn't normally care about that sort of stuff. He kills, that's it. I'm a woman he's just met who tried to kill herself! So why the hell does he give a damn about what anyone says to me? Let alone enough to kill them?”

“Are you asking me that question?” Dr Stark asked. “Or are you asking yourself?” She couldn't answer.

…

It was freezing. Danielle pulled her thick jacket around her as she stood in the exercise yard an hour after her session. She couldn't have said why but she was missing Michael, something terrible. Walking slowly across the yard with Joanne at her side, she stepped across the now pointless yellow line until she was leaning against Myers's concrete block. As she touched it, she realised that she was blinking back tears.

“Hey,” said a male voice. “It's Ryan.” She managed a weak smile at the guard as he lightly touched her arm. “Are you ok?”

“Sorry,” She gave a small laugh. “I just miss who normally stands here. Isn't that stupid?”

“No,” Ryan said. “It's how you feel. Nothing wrong with that at all.”

“Even if he is a killer,” she said quietly.

“Even if,” Ryan agreed.

“Now I've already told you,” Joanne said, sounding mock stern. “He's still a man and there's nothing wrong with noticing that.” She reflected that Dr Stark had told her the same just days ago. But neither did she want to look like the girl who attempted to take her own life because of a man and then jumped on the first one who shows her kindness afterwards. Joanne must've seen something on her face because she stepped to her other side and squeezed her hand.

“Stop it,” she said quietly.

She could only nod. She didn't move from Myers' block until they had to return to their cells.

…

BEEP!

Danielle shot up in bed at the sound, her heart pounding. It took her a second to realise what it had been. Her phone. She was one of only two patients at Smith's Grove who were allowed to keep their phones, which was purely because they weren't considered a risk to anyone else. Slipping on her headphones, she opened it and saw that there was a message from Charlotte. She smiled. She and Charlotte had been close friends while everything with Adam had been going on, she had confided a lot of the abuse to her. When she opened the message however, her blood went cold.

You are a fucking bitch. How dare you make up such lies about Adam? He told me the truth. He broke up with you because you're crazy, only proved by the fact you're now in the nuthouse. Lying bitch. I've always fancied Adam, but he didn't want to leave you. Well guess what? I'm with him know you blind bit hand I can actually see the damage you've caused. Hear me? I can SEE it! You can't! You tried to hang yourself because he wouldn't stay with you. Controlling bitch. You drove him to leave you. Well now he's mine and I love him. You haven't heard the last of this, you'd better hope I never see you again. Rot in hell!

She had to read the message twice to be sure she hadn't misread it. She felt no anger towards Charlotte just terrible sympathy. Adam had got to her now and before long she too would learn his true name, Sir. She would learn he was as abusive as she'd always said. She knew men like that never changed. She wanted to text Charlotte back telling her this, but right now she knew it was pointless. “You'll see alright,” she murmured. “When you do, you'll wish you hadn't.” She wasn't even aware she'd started crying.

…

Adam smirked as he read the text Charlotte had sent to Danielle. Oh, this was just perfect. He'd show her she was wrong soon enough. He kissed Charlotte and fixed a fake sad look on his face. “Thanks babe,” he said softly. “She hurt me so, so bad.” He wiped away a tear.

“I'm so sorry Adam,” Charlotte hugged him tightly. He felt a surge of anger. That was enough, “Adam,” from her. He was Sir to women and this bitch would soon address him properly. Calm down, he reminded himself. You have to play this right. Don't get her calling you Sir too quickly. Just fuck her hard for calling you Adam. Women have no right to use my name. So, minutes later, he was doing just that. It took Charlotte ages when he pretended to kindly ask her to wash the blood out of the sheets the next morning.

“I'm sorry to wake you so early baby,” he said to her at 5 AM trying not to smirk. He'd get the bed all to himself. Once he'd fucked her, she was out. Bitches. “But please can you get up and wash these sheets? There's blood on them. When you're done with that love, I'd kill for a cup of coffee” He gritted his teeth. The sooner he could order her to obey his every command the better. But for now, he had to pretend to be nice. But by God, she'd do it or pay the price.

“Of course,” Charlotte got up right away and Adam handed her the bloody sheets, quickly replacing them with clean ones. He was already fast asleep by the time his fuck toy had even put the sheets in the machine, having locked the door so she couldn't get back in bed with him. There wouldn't be a comfortable bed for her tonight and that was just how he liked it.

…

Danielle was awake again at 6 AM. In truth she'd gotten very little sleep after that message. It'd hurt her so badly, but she knew only too well what Adam could do. So, she was trying not to blame Charlotte. She'd learn the truth soon. With a sigh she stood, washing at her small sink before pulling on her uniform. She'd had a shower the day before, patients had one twice a week.

Myers wasn't in the yard that day. She guessed this could only mean his rage hadn't subsided and Dr Loomis was still working with him. She had a lot of respect for him. Regardless of Michael being a killer or not, he seemed to genuinely care about his patient. But it didn't make it any easier for her, she found herself standing by his block without him chained to it again. She'd worked long and hard while in her cell trying to stop the I can't care for a killer or I can't jump at the first man who cares, thoughts. Not an easy task, but she was confident she was slowly making progress with both. Whether she liked it or not, she was starting to realise that maybe, just maybe, she cared about Michael Myers.

Her session with Dr Stark was unremarkable. She didn't mention the text. She wasn't sure why, but she just couldn't bring herself to do it. Not yet anyway. Before long she was back in her cell as another interminable day ticked towards its end.

…

Finally! Fucking hallelujah! Adam wanted to whoop with glee. This was it! The bitch had moved in with him just that day. Now at last he could start showing her who was in charge here. That the man was in charge, not the bitch. He'd decided he was going to playthings a little differently than he had with Danielle, purely because this whore could actually see. That changed thing, but only slightly. He couldn't use the same cruelties he'd used on Danielle; he'd just have to be a little more… Imaginative.

“Baby,” he said to her the first day. “This may sound strange, but my father taught me that a woman calls her boyfriend Sir when they're living together. It will mean a lot to me if you'd uphold this for me. It doesn't mean I have any power over you or anything, it's just very important to me.” Bingo! He thought as she looked surprised for a second, then slowly nodded. “Only at home,” he said quickly. “In public baby I'm Adam.” Fuck! He hated having to say that but if he didn't, someone may overhear if she called him Sir and that would only lend credence to her friend's court case against him. 'Shit, shit, shit!' He gritted his teeth. Well, it was a start anyway; she was calling him Sir behind closed doors. Just as she should.

“Thank you, baby,” he said softly, pulling her in close for a kiss. Yuck. He hated the feel of her lipstick against his mouth, but he knew he had to keep up pretences if only for a little longer. Be patient Adam, he reminded himself. Just calm down, take your time. This bitch isn't going anywhere, literally. “Now come to bed. I want to make love to you.” He'd almost said, ‘fuck you,’ but this wasn't the time for that. Not yet. Soon though, he consoled himself as he again slid himself into her. Very, very soon.

…

The sound of a heavy door being opened as quietly as possible still managed to wake Danielle from a light sleep. In truth she was merely dozing. That text wouldn't leave her mind. She was sad and angry at the same time. Knowing her friends were acting as witnesses in her case against Adam, she'd forwarded it to a couple of them as further proof. They'd both texted back which'd brought tears to her eyes. Thanks D, we'll get him sent down, we promise. So maybe she still had people outside these walls who cared after all.

Now she focused on the sounds as she heard chains then the cell door on her right opening. 'Oh, joy of all fucking joys! He was back. Jefferson. Still alive. Damn. Why did you guys stop Michael? She thought as she heard a guard speaking quietly to her block mate. Why, why!

To her horror after the guards had left, she heard Jefferson whistle at her. Anger rose in her chest. 'Fucker!' But then she consoled herself with one fact. She could feel anger towards men again, not just fear. Adam had quashed her hatred of him with pure terror, so it was good to know she could still feel it towards an asshole like Jefferson. She took a deep breath then realised why he had whistled in the first place. It was hot and she wasn't covered completely. Furious at him she quickly covered herself.

“Too late honey bunch,” he sneered. “Already got a nice look at your tits and there's no one to protect you this time. What a nice welcome home present. Now all I need to see is your pussy and I'll be totally happy.”

It was then that she felt the first wave of panic. No! She shouted at herself. Stay in control! She hadn't had a panic attack for a while, and she didn't want to have one now. But the text, along with Jefferson's jeering words… She lurched, grabbed her shirt, and put it on. She desperately took sips of water trying to calm herself. But all the memories were suddenly as sharp as tape recordings. The rapes… the shouts… the orders… She scrambled back to her bed.

Joanne had told her, and it'd been in her documentation that if a patient had a panic attack the doctors could prescribe sedatives. She had no choice, she needed help. Feeling around frantically, she tried to find the call button. She couldn't find it. 'Where the fuck was it?!' The panic worsened as she continued her fruitless searching. Fuck I hate being blind, fuck I hate being blind! She shouted in her head again and again. Where the fuck was the fucking button? She searched all over, feeling like the blind woman she was as she felt everywhere, but still no trace of the damn call button. She wished more than ever she could go back to the first day when Joanne had asked if she needed to show her where the call button was again. “Yes!” She'd reply. “Yes, please!”

Still no button. All she could think of in her panic fuelled brain was to get help another way. Almost running over to the bars, she hit them as hard as she could, once, twice. She needed to get out, she was stuck in a small box both physically and mentally and she couldn't take the mounting pressure. She would hit the bars until her fucking hands were bleeding if she had to. I need out, I need out! She shouted in her head. 'Why! Why was she still alive?'

…

“I told you bitch!” Adam yelled, seeing Charlotte blanch first in surprise, then fear. “I'm Sir at home! Are you deaf?” At last. Oh, fuck yes, at last. It was almost enough to make him cum. Women did as he said, he was boss.

“I'm sorry Sir,” Charlotte said meekly as he grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her upstairs. She needed a good seeing to. A good fucking would show her that he meant business, meant every word he said. Now she was beginning to realise Danielle may have been right. Too late bitch, he thought as he pounded into her. Too late.

…

Danielle had no idea how long she'd been desperately hitting the bars. She couldn't shout out loud because her mental box was closed constricting her voice. The next thing she knew the door had opened and just like in her dream except this was for real Joanne had her arm around her, whispering into her ear. “It's alright, I'm here. What happened sweetheart? Bad dreams?”

“I couldn't find the call button,” She eventually broke down, sobbing against the guard's shoulder. “I searched and searched but couldn't find it! I… I was so scared! I'm so sorry I…”

“It’s ok,” Joanne kept repeating as she held her close. She may be her guard, but right now Joanne felt like her mother. Just as she had in her dream a few nights ago. “It's here sweetheart,” Joanne murmured eventually, setting her hand on the light switch then the round button built into it. At this she began crying soundlessly. She'd been so close…

“Hey it's ok,” Joanne soothed. “You know where it is now when you need it again.”

She felt another hand on her shoulder then. “Hello,” it was Dr Stark. “What happened?” She had never heard the doctor speak so kindly to her in all the time she'd known her. Joanne handed her a glass of water.

“Panic attack,” Danielle gasped. “I took my meds at breakfast today; my anti-depressants and they normally help keep them under control but…”

“Did something happen?” Dr Stark asked. “Today, I mean?”

She didn't want to lie. “Yes Dr Stark,” she managed to say before she broke down all over again against Joanne's shoulder. “Yes!”

…

Adam lay beside Charlotte, heartily wishing he could wake her up. But not yet. Picking up her phone he began to check her text messages and bingo, he had his first shot of showing her that she belonged to him. A male colleague named ‘TJ’ texted her Hey babe how you doing? Adam didn't like that, not at all. It made his blood boil. ‘TJ?’ That was too friendly for his liking. The bitch would pay for this. Pretending gentleness, he woke her, trying desperately to keep his anger in check at least for now. “Baby,” he said, keeping his voice casual as if just curious, when in reality he wanted to punch her in the face. “What's this?”

She raised her eyebrows and squinted at him before looking at the message. He saw the spark of anger cross her features that he dared look at her phone while she was sleeping, but he immediately silenced that by bellowing “ANSWER ME BITCH!” Instantly, terror replaced her anger and Adam relaxed. “Good,” he hissed. That was what he wanted to see. Fear. “It… It's my boss,” she stammered, trying not to meet his eyes. “Tim Jennings. Just checking that I'm ok. He… He does that every day.”

“Yeah?” Adam sneered. “Does he call everyone babe?” He stressed the last word. “He needs to stop, you hear me. No one will call you babe! I don't like it. You tell him that.” He thrust her phone at her. “Text him back right now and tell him never to call you babe again and I'll read it before you send it! Do it!”

“It's 3 AM,” she started weakly but was stopped when Adam punched her in the face. She gasped more in shock than pain. It wasn't hard but hard enough to make his point. “Do it,” he snarled. “Now!” Her hands were shaking, Charlotte raised her phone and texted back.

Hi Tim, I'm fine, but please don't call me babe again. C.

Adam took her phone and read it before hitting send. “Good girl,” he said, pulling her back to him. Charlotte didn't stop him. By now she knew what she would get for that text. Quite literally fucked.

…

For the first time, Dr Stark entered Danielle's cell. She only knew this when she knelt on Joanne's other side and touched her shoulder, Joanne still with her arm around her.

“What happened?” Dr Stark asked softly. Danielle was still crying uncontrollably, willing her mental walls to disappear so she could think, speak, anything… “I… I…” She tried, but her voice still wasn't working. Joanne continued to stroke her back and slowly but surely, she began to relax. Dr Stark didn't push, and she was pretty sure the doctor smiled at her guard in thanks, though of course she didn't know this for certain.

“I… I got a text,” She whispered eventually, pulling out her phone, turning off voiceover and activating the screen as she'd had to do so many times before but this time not under duress. Charlotte's text was still open she handed it first to Joanne, proof of her trust and Joanne handed it to Dr Stark.

“Charlotte was one of my best friends,” She sobbed, not giving a fuck who could hear her. She was past caring. “That means the fucker Adam's got his claws into her now. He'll treat her the same way he treated me and there's nothing I can do about it!”

“But that's not your fault,” Dr Stark said. “You can't control another's actions. Charlotte will get the help she needs. We have domestic violence experts here and I'll get some of them on her trail right away. They'll discreetly keep an eye on her and work out how to get her away from him. Trust me?” Dr Stark took her hand and squeezed it once. She slowly nodded. “That's my girl,” Dr Stark said. “We'll get her away from him.”

“Then there's that jerk to the right of me,” She sobbed, still not caring if he heard. 'Fucker deserved to die. Why hadn't they let Michael kill him?' “He made a sexual advance on me as soon as he got through the fucking door. It's really hot tonight and he was just standing there staring at my fucking breasts! The asshole even had the audacity to whistle at me! I can't take much more of it… Not, not with my… My past…”

Before she'd even finished speaking, the door had opened, and three guards had come in. Jefferson's cell was opened, and he was wrenched violently from his bed then chained. “What the fuck?” He snarled.

“Solitary Jefferson,” a voice she recognised as Rick's said. “We warned you. Leave this woman alone you sexist bastard.” She didn't hear Jefferson's reply because he was being shoved out of the block. God, she hoped he rotted in there.

“Thanks,” she said to Dr Stark. “I wasn't asking for you to do that but…”

“That's not the first time he's done something like that, and he has been warned previously,” Dr Stark said. “We're actually trying to get him moved. He's not helping your recovery at all.”

Should've just let Michael kill him, she thought but didn't say. Why didn't you?

“Come on sweetheart,” Joanne eased her to her feet. “Let's go and get you something cold to drink. You're right, it's stifling tonight.”

“Joanne,” She had to ask the question as her guard and doctor both guided her towards the door. “How did you guys know I was in trouble? Did you hear me?”

“Not at first,” Joanne said, and Danielle was certain she could hear a smile in her tone. “The gentleman on your left pressed his call button for you.”

…

Adam heard a knock at the door. “Hey bitch!” He yelled to Charlotte. “Get the fucking door!” When she opened the door, a Sheriff was standing there with an envelope in his hand. “May I speak with Adam Dawson? Is he home?” the Sheriff asked. Stuttering, Charlotte told him to wait a moment and she would get him.

Adam then marched to the door, opened it roughly and shouted “What?” The Sheriff showed him the envelope and said, “You are being served a subpoena, please sign here.” Shocked, Adam signed for the envelope and closed the door.

Dear Mr. Dawson, this is a formal subpoena to appear at Haddonfield Court this Wednesday to give your testimony in the case against you for Domestic Violence and Abuse against Ms. Danielle Hayward. Failure to appear will result in your arrest.

Adam stared at the letter, anger rising in his stomach along with a twinge of dread. He quickly stifled the latter. They wouldn't be able to prove a damn thing. He was safe. His tightest alibi being Danielle was now in a nuthouse. Charlotte's text to her could also work in his favour. Nope, he was safe. Just try, you assholes, he thought. You won't be able to send me down no matter how many of her bitch friends try.

…

“Do you need me to show you the call button again?” Joanne asked ten minutes later as she guided Danielle back into the block, Dr Stark walking behind them.

“Yes please,” Danielle said without hesitation. The sedative Dr Stark had given her started to kick in and as a result she could think, but she was still badly shaken up. The old her was gone. She would've again said no. But after what'd just happened, she wasn't taking any chances. If Michael hadn't pressed his for her…

Michael. 'What the hell did he think of her now?' She'd fallen to pieces. She mentally winced.

Wait, said that quiet little voice in her head. Why do you care so much what Michael Myers thinks?

Because I think I trust him, said an even quieter voice. Don't start this again, she shouted at herself. Don't! It was bad enough for the last fucking week! Just except it! He's shown you kindness, just except it for fuck's sake!

They were almost at her cell when she squeezed Joanne's arm, the signal for her to stop. Joanne stopped and turned to face her.

“Are you still here Dr Stark?” Danielle asked. Now was no time for embarrassment.

“Yes,” Dr Stark touched her arm. “I'm right here.”

“You know,” she said, not keeping her voice low this time. She didn't care, they needed to know the truth and if she was honest, so did he. “I wish Michael had strangled me instead of Jefferson. I'm only alive because I was found and dear God, sometimes I wish I wasn't. I think I'm getting too emotionally involved with Michael and that terrifies me. At the same time however, I love it and want more. But damn it I also wish Michael had just killed me right there and then in the damn yard! He's a killer after all! Why has he treated me like he has? He holds my key out of here and yet he hasn't used it.”

She got no further in her rant because that was when she was pulled against a cell door by the hand. Myers' other arm was through the door at such an angle so as she wouldn't make contact with the hard metal. Myers tightened his hold on her as she automatically squeezed back for all she was worth.

“I think that's your answer,” Dr Stark said. She heard Joanne's ‘Aww’ and it sounded as if she was blinking back tears. “What have I told you about feelings? You can't control them. Nor can you let Adam control your life. You have to try to move forward, one step at a time.”

Michael squeezed her hand again then released it. She started to move back to her own cell when there was a buzz and his door opened. She only knew this for certain when his arms came around her. She couldn't stop herself as she pressed tightly against him.

“I rest my case,” Dr Stark said. “Go on Michael.”

Myers led her into his cell, then the door was closed and locked. This time she had no room for embarrassment, fear, shyness, whatever it was. She clung to him as if she never wanted to let go again. After a minute, she heard the cell block door closing as Joanne and Dr Stark left. She and Myers were alone in his cell.

“I… I'm sorry,” She began. “I didn't mean for you to hear all that. Well, I did, but, oh fuck! I can't thank you enough for…”

Myers led her to the bed and softly pushed her down, before lying beside her and pulling her close to him. At the same time, he raised his free arm and took her hand in his. She started crying at what he did next. Slowly, he guided her hand up, so it was resting on the light switch then the call button. Michael Myers was showing her where it was. This small but kind gesture had touched her beyond belief. “Thank you,” she just managed to say through her tears. “Thank you so much!”

Michael squeezed her hand again before releasing it and putting both arms around her, holding her tightly. Before she knew what she was doing, she started to speak, and it all came pouring out. Now it was too late to turn back.

“Damn it Michael Myers, what are you doing to me? You're in my dreams, thoughts, and life! Every night before I go to sleep, I think about you. The last couple of nights when you've been next door to me, I've longed for you, needed you, wanted you. A few days ago, I actually had a dream that you killed that fucker Jefferson and that was before you actually tried to do it. I'm so scared of getting emotionally close to you, especially when you consider the fact, you're… Inclinations make Adam look kind,” she actually faintly smiled at him then. “But I can't stop what's happening to me. I've tried to tell myself for the last week it's just because you've shown me some kindness the first in a long time, but I can't think like that anymore! Michael I…” She swallowed and cleared her throat. It suddenly felt very dry.

She felt him hold the plastic glass against her mouth then. She didn't even think, just trusted him. As he tipped it back, she gladly accepted its contents into her dry throat. The water was cold and felt good.

“Thanks,” she said when he drew the glass back. She leant into him and for some reason found herself whispering into his ear. She knew it was totally pointless as they were alone, but she couldn't help it. It was something she'd longed to do with Adam, and he'd let her, just once to make her think she had the perfect man and then…

She forced those thoughts out of her mind as she opened her mouth and whispered into the ear of a cold-blooded killer. “Michael Myers, I think I'm starting to trust you, have feelings for you and if I'm not very careful, I feel like I could end up falling in love with you.”

…

Danielle lay in her cell the next night, feeling utterly like shit. How could she face him now? After she'd told Michael how she felt, he'd held her close for the rest of the night. She'd loved it and desperately desired more, but her stupid fear was still getting in the way. She'd confided as much to both Joanne and Dr Stark in tears the next day, who'd both said the same thing. “You can't let Adam ruin your life; you have to live. You're still alive, so you have to try and live it. Of course, it'll take some time, but that's why you're here and we're here to help you.”

She knew they were right but a small part of her still tried to fight it. She wanted to tell Michael everything about the dream she'd had about him, not just his killing Jefferson, the other part too. But she couldn't. For the second time when out in the yard she didn't try to cross his line. She knew it would come across as cruel, but she was afraid of being rejected all over again. 'Plus, why would Michael Myers even care? He was a cold-blooded killer.' She had to remember that. 'He had no reason to care.

On the fourth day after he'd held her, Joanne guided her out into the yard as usual and she took her usual walk with her cane, alone. For the second time she accidentally stepped across Myers' yellow line and again only realised it when he grabbed her and once more pushed her up against the concrete block. This time though, she could almost feel his fury. Fear clamped down on her heart. 'Not another angry man, not another angry man,' the mantra running through her head over and over again. Please… somehow, he must've sensed her fear because he loosened his grip on her a little. But he made no move to hold her or even hold her hand, which told Danielle he wasn't happy at all. What was worse, she was pretty sure she knew why.

“Michael…” She started but he briefly touched her arm and she understood. He didn't want to hear it. He pushed a piece of paper into her hand and then she heard the clinking of his chains as he stepped away from her. Danielle walked back to Joanne, blinking back tears. When they reached the cells later Michael made no move to approach her, walking straight to his. Joanne guided her towards hers.

“Can you wait just a second please?” she quietly asked her. She pulled the door almost closed then turned to Joanne and handed her the piece of paper. “Michael gave me this just now in the yard,” she said quietly on the verge of tears. “Please can you read it to me? I know it's not going to be good… He's furious with me Joanne and I think I know why…”

She couldn't help it. She collapsed into Joanne's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Joanne held her for a moment before pushing her softly to the bed and opening the letter. She was silent while she read it and then she began to speak.

Danielle, While I totally understand why you are afraid, has it not occurred to you that I, too, have never felt anything like this before? Your want to be close to me one moment then not the next, is confusing me. What are you afraid of? Are you afraid I'll do what he did to you? Or is it yourself that you're afraid of? Afraid to trust me because of him? I understand both angles, on this you need to believe and trust me. I do. I know it scares you and I get it, but how can I help you if you don't let me? Just think over what I have written.

Damn she'd deserved that and was surprised he hadn't written it in a much worse way. He could've and she knew it. But he was trying to be gentle while at the same time getting his point across. She felt like a total bitch, even more than she had before he'd given her the letter. She pressed her face into her pillow and let the tears fall as soon as Joanne closed the door.

…

Danielle hardly slept that night. When the breakfast buzzer sounded, she was once again ready for it. Feeling like the biggest bitch ever, she headed out of her cell with Joanne and towards the dining room. Michael was right. She shouldn't treat him like that. That in itself was a form of abuse just like what Adam had done to her. She felt like she was no better than him. She could see the mixed signals she was inadvertently giving him, and it wasn't fair to him. He had every right to be angry, hurt even. So now she had to show him she trusted him. God knew she'd tried to deny it for long enough, but now that she'd told him she had to prove it and constantly running from him was not the way to do so. If he let her have that last chance that was.

She debated walking across his line, so she did, softly calling his name. She heard the clink of chains which meant he was there, but he didn't make any move to come closer. He was still angry. Blinking away tears she stepped away. God, she hated herself right now. What kind of woman was she? He wasn't Adam, even though he made Adam look like a saint, he wasn't Adam. He hadn't subjected her to the living hell her life had been for the last year, so how could she do this to him? In fact, he'd been nothing but kind and gentle towards her. A killer. The irony didn't escape her. But shit she needed him. This served her right. She wanted to be in his arms so bad it hurt. She re-joined Joanne who softly squeezed her arm, doubtlessly seeing the pain etched on her face and her now falling tears.

She had shown the letter to Dr Stark the day after she'd received it and Dr Stark had sighed, softly squeezing her arm.

“Danielle,” she'd said, and she had simply said “I know, I'm a bitch.”

“While I wouldn't use those exact words,” Dr Stark said. “You must remember that he's not Adam. Don't say he's a killer, we all know that. But between you and him it can't play a part. You can't let it if you want to explore the closeness you and he appear to have found. Killer, whatever. He's still a man. You are seeing a side of him that no one else has so for you to keep running from him I won't lie to you is a little unfair, maybe even selfish. 'You close to me one moment and avoiding me the next is not pleasing me' he says. That's not a threat to your life, that's the words of a hurting man. He obviously feels something for you and like I told you when you first told me, you should try to explore it. But running from him will not help you and may not help in your recovery either. Mr. Myers could be a key in helping your healing, but you need to do some of the work yourself too.”

…

She stood in the yard, trying desperately not to cry. All she wanted to do was to curl up into a ball and do so until she had no tears left. She didn't want to move again. “Can I go back in please?” She asked Joanne. The doctors had decided when she first arrived that the design of Smith's Grove, deliberately designed to confuse patients if they tried to escape, would mean she wouldn't have a chance of finding her way back so she would always be guided.

“Sure,” Joanne said, beginning to guide her back in. She hated not having her independence, but sincerely hoped that once she was out of here, if she was ever out of here that was, she could get at least some of it back.

They had almost reached the doors when she tripped over something and hit the hard concrete, hitting the back of her head. She immediately felt dazed and groggy. She tried to stand, but her legs were shaking too badly. What the hell had she fallen over?

“You son of a bitch,” she heard someone shout, then the loud clinking of chains. “Let him,” she heard another man's voice say. It sounded like Dr Loomis. Again, Danielle tried to stand up but was still shaking too badly. She felt the warm trickle of blood running down the back of her neck.

“Fuck, that was great,” said the nastily familiar voice she now had no trouble in recognising. Jefferson. She could hear guards wrestling with him. “I had to do it; I've wanted to do that since she got here. Stupid blind bitch! If she'd just given in and let me fuck her, I wouldn't have done it. Doesn't even like a man paying her tits a compliment. She deserved it.”

That was when she felt gentle arms around her as someone knelt at her side and heard the clink of chains once more, a lot closer this time. “Michael?” She breathed. “Sir?” The word had just slipped out before she'd realised it. Had the guards unchained him from his block so he could help her? She felt his other arm come around her, holding her tightly before his soft, warm hand raised her head and she felt someone kneel on her other side. Joanne. “Just having a look sweetheart,” the guard said. “Do you want a stretcher? Are you ok to walk?”

“I… I don't know,” Danielle said truthfully, tears streaming down her face. “What… What happened?”

“Jefferson deliberately stuck out his foot,” said Dr Loomis. Danielle could hear his open contempt. “I'm so sorry. Are you ok?”

“It's not that bad of a cut,” Joanne said. “We just need to bandage it. Do you want to try to walk or…”?

But Joanne got no further because Myers stood then and slowly lifted Danielle up into his arms, so he was carrying her. It was only then she realised with shock that they'd removed his chains so he could do just that.

“Sir, I'm so sorry,” she sobbed against his shoulder as he carried her into the building. “Every word you said in that letter I deserved! God, I'm as bad as Adam but in a different way! You didn't deserve that! It's not your fault I'm scared. You didn't do what Adam did to me! You've been just the opposite, showing me nothing but kindness and care and I treat you like that? Sir, I'm so sorry! I don't deserve you to do t…”

Michael tightened his arms around her as he carried her into his cell. “Sir,” Danielle begged. “Don't do this just because of what happened. If you're still angry with me, I…” Again, he stopped her by slowly laying her down on his bed. Joanne entered the cell holding a first aid kit and began to clean and bandage the cut. She hissed in pain; Michael's hand took hers.

“Sorry sweetheart,” Joanne soothed. “Nearly done.”

It felt like forever, but finally Joanne was finished, and the door was closed. She knew it was time for the truth. All of it.

“Sir,” she started but Myers squeezed her hand in his. When she tried again also saying ‘Sir’ He once more stopped her with a squeeze, and it was then that she understood. He was telling her not to call him “Sir.”

“Well, if you squeeze my hand every time, I do then I'll keep doing it,” she said with a small grin. He just pulled her close. She took a deep breath. This was it.

“Michael Myers, I'm so sorry! I…” Again, he squeezed her hand. Taking another deep breath, she started to speak.

“Mr. Myers…” Myers squeezed her hand again, stopping her. She raised an eyebrow. “Michael?” The killer squeezed her hand again and Danielle couldn't help the affection which swelled inside her at this very small but kind gesture.

“Michael,” she started again and felt his arm tighten. “My name is Danielle Hayward; I've been totally blind since birth and I'm here because I tried to hang myself following my ex-boyfriend Adam Dawson abusing me for the last year. He raped, controlled, assaulted, and basically treated me like shit. His philosophy in life is that women only live to serve men, make their dinner, have sex with and so on. I had absolutely no control of my own life, money, who I spoke to, friends, you name it.” Slowly she raised her face. “That huge scar?” She touched her right cheek. “I got that when Adam slashed my face with a knife while he was raping me because I was talking to another man, even though the man in question was my tutor.”

Michael made no response except to squeeze her hand again, holding her close. “Thanks for caring about me, I really appreciate it. I know what you almost did to Jefferson, I hope that wasn't on my account. He's a sexual predator, but I'm used to them by now Sir…” She took a breath. “Michael.”

He squeezed her hand again and Danielle felt her heart swell to the point it would burst. A cold-blooded killer was acknowledging the fact that she'd corrected herself from calling him Sir and the effort it'd taken. She could hardly believe it. As a result, it wasn't long before her eyes were drooping, pure exhaustion taking over.

…

“Ok then, thanks for letting me know. I'll see you guys in the morning. Thanks so much. Night.”

Charlotte put down the phone and sighed. At that exact moment two emotions were battling in her heart. Relief and feeling like the world's biggest bitch. Relief because she'd be out of this house soon and away from this abusive bastard, a total bitch because Danielle had been right all along, and Charlotte had let her desire for Adam rule over her friend's hell. She vowed when she was in her own place, she'd text her friend and beg her for her forgiveness. Looking at her phone she scowled, still not believing Adam had made her text Tim back at 3 AM because he'd committed to Adam the huge transgression of daring to call her “Babe.” She had to put that right sooner rather than later.

She ran through a mental list of everything Danielle had said, comparing it with her own experiences with Adam. He makes me call him Sir. Check. He checks my phone. Check. He tells me what I can and can't wear. Check. I can't talk to friends or family. Check. Nope, all in all, Charlotte Avery had to admit she was in a pretty shit situation, and she should've been there for her so-called best friend. Some friend she'd been.

Glaring at herself in disgust in the living room mirror, she promised herself that as soon as she could she'd make it up to Danielle for the rest of their lives. She was the one in the wrong here, not her friend. For the first time Charlotte was starting to realise that perhaps Danielle had had a damn good reason for trying to hang herself that day. Ohan, he treats me like a sex toy. Check.

But in the here and now, Charlotte knew what she had to do. She'd just got off the phone with the police, who'd informed her that Adam had been remanded back into police custody and that they'd be helping her get out of his house the next morning, but she was safe there overnight. For a moment she was tempted to just leave, but she didn't own a car so that would be a foolish idea and a cab would be too difficult, she had too much stuff. They'd also told her that Smith's Grove (the hospital Danielle was in) had designated some of their own Domestic Violence Advisors to help her in whatever way they could. It seemed Danielle had raised the alarm for her. That made Charlotte feel even worse than she did already.

With a heavy sigh, she picked up her phone and dialled Tim's number. He deserved an apology. It was time to start fixing the damage Adam Dawson had done to her life.

…

The Shape stood at the bars of his cell, looking out of the small window set in the ceiling towards the exercise yard where Danielle Hayward was currently standing. He could just about see her through the glass. What the hell was he doing? He was Michael Myers, the one his own doctor had described as ‘pure evil’ ‘there's nothing left.’ Yet here he was, looking out of the window at the very woman he couldn't stop thinking about. He was seriously starting to believe that the first thing he'd felt upon meeting her had been sympathy. Of course he hadn't realised it at the time, but when she'd accidentally crossed his line and asked, ‘Are you Mr. Myers?’ Genuinely having no idea if it was him or not, it’d got to him in a way he couldn't explain. Why else had he touched her arm in answer, not just ignored her and walked away? As far as his chains allowed anyway.

Not to mention he hadn't let it end there either. He'd held her hand the next time and pressed his own call button when she'd had her panic attack. He'd heard her say to Joanne that she hadn't been able to find it. That touched him. Must have. Because why else had he taken her into his cell with him and held her that night? Not to mention had shown her where the damn call button was?

He suspected it had something to do with the fact that she was so vulnerable. Physically as well as mentally. He'd suspected even before she'd told him there was a man involved in the reason she was here, hence why he'd written ‘are you scared to trust?' But that was another thing. Why did he care if she trusted him or not? Or even if she was giving him mixed signals? Why had it made him feel… Whatever it had, to the extent that he'd written that damn letter in the first place?

He couldn't deny one thing though. She was very vulnerable. Vulnerable and innocent, just based on the facts of the little she'd told him and that she couldn't see. Perhaps that was why he'd wanted to help her. She had her own scars as did he. When Jefferson had deliberately tripped her with his foot, that'd angered him more than he would've believed. As had before when Jefferson had openly sneered at her. He almost killed him the first time and wouldn't hesitate to try again, but this time he'd succeed.

One thing was certain. He, Michael Myers cared about Danielle Hayward. He wasn't thinking they'd see each other again once she left here, he wouldn't call her a friend, (he'd long since given up hope of getting out without escaping,) but he would do his bit to help her while she was here and recovering. Whatever that was…

…

“Ok,” Dr Stark said as she and Danielle sat in the therapy room with the security window open and the speakers off. “You may wonder why I'm doing this and think it is pointless, but will you work with me here?”

Danielle raised an eyebrow. “Yes?” She said slowly. “In what way?”

“Will you tell me a bit about yourself and your life before Adam? Likes, dislikes and such?”

“Um, ok?” She was puzzled. How would this help in her recovery? But then she reasoned, Dr Stark was the doctor, not her. “Then can I make one small request of my own?”

“Go for it.”

“Can Joanne be in here for this? If she's going to be guarding me while I'm here she should probably know too.”

“Good thinking,” Dr Stark chuckled and stood. To Danielle's gratitude, Joanne was there within a minute.

“Hi,” Joanne said, and Danielle felt affection rise in her chest, she couldn't help it as Joanne sat next to her on her side of the window. Mind you she's armed, she thought. She could shoot me before I even touched her. That's probably why.