"You're finally awake."

Michelle sat up and rubbed the sleep from her eyes in a languid motion. She looked up, allowing her gaze to saunter across the popcorn ceiling above her before meeting the cheap television set the rested on the drawer across from her. The brunette grazed her fingers over her side once the throbbing pain reminded her of recent events.

"How long was out?"

"A couple days," he asserted.

Michelle's eye's nearly popped out of her skull. "Days?"

"Yeah, well, you've been in and out."

"What? Why the hell did you let me sleep that long?" she scoffed.

"You're exhausted, your body's worn out, you needed the rest. Besides, I looked out for you...everything's okay. Let me check your wounds." He peeled the comforter away from her body and delicately lifted her shirt.

"How'd you find me?" Michelle pondered.

After the couple dragged themselves from the relentless clutches of the freezing water, they hoped in the car and didn't stop until they reached a remote motel. In the midst of the hustle and bustle, neither uttered a word about what happened. They were well aware that it was nothing short of a miracle that they were both still breathing and for them...that was enough.

Michelle's fingers crumbled the bed sheets that rested beneath her as the pain in her side made its presence known. Lincoln lightly dabbed alcohol onto her gunshot wound before following it up by blowing the area lightly. His wife gritted her teeth at the stinging sensation, she could practically feel the alcohol seeping into her skin and rushing away the dried blood that surrounded it. She opened her eyes and allowed her gaze to travel down to Lincoln's while he crouched down in front of her.

"Well, I woke up and you were gone. I'm assuming it was not long after you left, thanks for that by the way," he chuckled.

She sighed quietly and shook her head, "Sorry."

"Yeah, I knew that you'd do what you wanted in spite of your promise to me. You were angry and you wanted to protect me, I get it. I saw the determination in your eyes, so...I checked myself out."

He carefully grabbed her hand and undressed the bandage that covered her palm. The brunette's eyes widened ever so slightly at the sight of the stitches that greeted her. Before she could speak, her husband beat her to the punch, "I did all of this while you were asleep, it was easier that way for the both of us."

"Wait, you checked yourself out?" Michelle uttered. "How? You almost drowned, they were supposed to keep an eye on you."

He shrugged, "It's a free country, they advised against it, but they couldn't exactly hold me hostage. Plus, I assured them that I'd be fine, I'm a doctor myself, remember? Lucky for you." He tore his eyes away from her wound and snapped them back to hers, a small grin slithered its way onto his lips. "I called a cab and once I saw our car, I knew I had the right place. You're not the only one who can track."

Michelle giggled, "Yeah, I didn't know who the hell was ramming the car and you nearly drowned me along with Tasha."

Lincoln chuckled, "I didn't know you were in there. I found your holster at the cop's house then I just tracked whoever it was that knew where you were. I did the best I could."

Michelle's ears immediately perked up. "My holster? You have it?"

"It's in the drawer," he motioned towards the chipped, rugged bureau drawer that rested in the corner of the motel room. "Your wounds are healing nicely...considering."

"Good, thanks, but what about the cop?"

He shrugged his shoulders and stood to his feet. "He's still dead."

"Shit," she muttered, her hands rubbing her forehead in a frantic motion. "The police will find him and my blood, it's all over the place. In the house, in Tasha's car..." She urgently rose to her feet, for a second, the room spun around her and she swallowed the bile that threatened to crawl out of her throat. Her stance faltered and she nearly tipped over, but she ignored the foreign feeling and pressed on when she felt her husband reach out to steady her. "We have to clean everything up, get rid of the evidence before anyone finds out."

Lincoln sighed heavily, "They already did."

"...What?"

"The police, they already did, they...know," he reluctantly admitted. Lincoln watched his wife's eyes widen in disbelief. "I saw it on the news, the cops were at his place, they found the man you killed. But, look...it's gonna be fine."

Michelle plopped back down on the bed, the mattress dipped in the process. She shook her head and searched for the words to speak, "Well, then...that's it. It's over. We're done, we're screwed."

"No, we're not."

"Lincoln, the cops found him, he's dead, I killed one of their own. There are traces of my blood all over the damn house, they know it was me they're probably on a manhunt right now looking for me!" She raised her voice in anger, the calmness her husband held that usually soothed her did nothing but infuriate her even further.

"I didn't say that," he gave her knee a gentle squeeze.

She narrowed her eyes in confusion, they silently begged Lincoln to continue.

"On the news...they said that the suspect was in custody. It was some guy, they said he confessed. I don't know how and I don't know why, but he's going down for murder...not you."

Michelle wet her lips and nodded her head, "I'll tell you why. Versa Vice Sensus values me too much, they want my head on a stick. They want me for themselves, if I get arrested, they can't have me," she chuckled. "They're not gonna let me slip through their fingers, they're not gonna let me go to jail. They used a fall guy."

"Son of a bitch, you're right," Lincoln whispered.

"This is good. We have to move forward with the plan." She quickly stood to her feet, Lincoln followed her lead.

"Woah, wait," he swiftly asserted. "You're still healing and it's not exactly safe. You need to relax and calm down, take a breather. Don't forget, I was almost killed and so were you, we need to think things through thoroughly. We have to be careful."

"Lincoln, this already took too long, this whole thing is taking too long. I was supposed to get this done in a matter of days, kill everyone we needed to kill in a week at most, but it hasn't worked out like that. There are still two people left that I have to kill. This has taken up too much time. Just about everyone's tipped off and the longer we wait, the more people get involved, the longer all of this takes. I need to finish this now."

She took a deep breath once she saw that her husband remained unconvinced. "Look, you said that my wounds are healing fine. I'm fine. However, we won't be if we let this go on. This has to be done, I'll be careful, but I've gotta do this now."

"Shit," he muttered. "You just will not let up, will you? Okay, you know what? Fine. But, we stick together."

Michelle opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by Lincoln in an instant, "That's it, that's the deal. I'm not fighting with you about this. It's both of us or neither of us. It...is me."

She raised her eyebrow as she studied him carefully. "What?"

"Before, when you went to kill Tyson, you said you didn't want me there because it wasn't me. You said that I give life and you take it away."

Michelle motioned for him to continue.

"I give life, but I also take it away."

"Lincoln," she sighed.

"Michelle, it's true. It's already done. I killed that doctor, I killed Tasha...and I'd do it again if it meant you'd be okay. We like to think that we wouldn't do these horrible things but we've been pushed so far that, we did things, we're doing things and we can't go back. Neither of us."

"Why are you saying all this?"

"I'm saying this because you need to understand, I'm in this just as much as you are. What happened to me at the other motel and what happened to you last night, those were lessons. They taught us that no matter what, we need each other, we have to stay together. It's the only way we'll make it out of this situation in one piece, it's the only way we'll survive. You have to promise me. We're not leaving here until you do."

"I promise."

"Nope," he shook his head. "Not one of your bullshit promises, a real one. Not I'll find you after, not I'll see you later...we stay together."

The woman inhaled sharply while allowing his words to sink in. He could see straight through her and although a part of her hated being so transparent, so easily read, she knew that his request was reasonable and her response was possibly the most critical one in this situation. So, she gave him what he longed for, a reply from the heart, one that held the utmost of sincerity.

"...I promise."

"Get behind me," Michelle mouthed soundlessly. Her eyes bored into Lincoln's while his challenged hers. "Behind...me," she asserted once more.

Lincoln clenched his teeth and relented, his gloved hand released his grip on the door handle. He reluctantly stepped aside and allowed his wife to assume his original position. She silently removed her gun from her holster and turned the knob, the door eased open effortlessly and she cocked her brow.

In all of her years of service and during the entire time she and Lincoln commenced their manhunt, no one had ever been imbecilic enough to leave their door unlocked, especially not Martin Key. Knowing what he knew about the world, about Versa Vice Sensus, there was no way he'd be careless enough to leave himself or his family wide open for attack.

Michelle slowly crept inside, the warmth of the home immediately rushed towards them, suddenly making their lengthy, dark clothing uncomfortably hot. They each narrowed their eyes once the sound of classical music reached their ears and slithered its way into their cochleas.

They followed the sound, their eyes remained narrowed and alert as they pressed on. Michelle held out her hand cautiously, effectively causing her husband to stop in his tracks. Her lips parted slightly at the sight of Martin sitting at his dinette table, facing away from the couple.

She quietly cocked her gun and secured the silencer before stepping closer to the man.

"Michelle...I know you're here."

The couple instantly ceased their movements at Martin's declaration.

"Lincoln's here too, right?"

Michelle motioned for her husband to position himself on the opposite side of her, successfully ensuring the man was surrounded.  

"I know what it is that you do. I've heard about it, hell, I've seen it," his speech was slurred after each word fell from his lips, it wasn't until then that the brunette noticed the glass of red wine that was nearly gone.

She cocked her brow slightly once she noticed the handcrafted, golden hourglass that rested on the dinette table inches away from Martin. The sand was swiftly dwindling down from the top and creating a small hill at the bottom.

"But I also know the thing's I've done. I know what I am, what it is that I do. I know the things I did and ever since I've done them I can barely stand to look at my own damn reflection. I can't raise my boy, I can't have him looking up to a man who's just as broken and confused as a child," Martin asserted, his glassy eyes remained fixed on the wall in front of him, he was staring at no particular spot. He was staring off into space as if he could see something that they couldn't. 

"I'm sorry for everything that's happened, for everything that's about to happen, for what's to come. I've been waiting for you," he pressed on with the nod of his head. "Yeah, I've been waiting for you to come and do what I couldn't."

Lincoln kept his gun aimed at Martin, but his eyes met Michelle's. They both had a silent conversation, they each had questions, but neither could summon answers.

"I figured you were coming for me, I knew I was next. That's why I sent my wife away and my son." He placed his glass down and turned his head towards Michelle, allowing his gaze to meet hers for the first time that night. "And if you have a heart at all, if any part of you is still human, you won't go after them."

Michelle inhaled deeply, "It's just you, we only want you."

"I have your word?" he uttered hoarsely. His eyes pleaded with hers in the most desperate way.

she granted him a quick nod, "You do."

"Good." For a second, a small smile crept its way onto his lips, but just as soon as it came, it vanished.

"For what it's worth," the brunette began, "it won't be like the others...it'll be quick."

Martin nodded his head and returned his gaze to the blank wall across from him. He let the remaining red wine that stained his glass slide down his throat in a languid motion. He planted the glass on the table and rubbed his hand over his mouth. "...I'm ready now."

Lincoln eyed her carefully and Michelle sighed before pulling the trigger. The small movement immediately launched the bullet across the room and into the back of the man's skull. The wine glass tipped over and crashed onto the hardwood floor beneath him.

Michelle returned her gun to her holster and walked up towards the dinette table. She carefully lifted the hourglass, her eyes studying it inquisitively. 

"What are you doing?" Lincoln pondered. "Let's go."

"Okay, I know I just...what's this for?" The question was mostly rhetorical, however, she wouldn't mind receiving an answer.

"I don't know," he shrugged. "But, we should go."

"The sand's almost gone, the time is almost up. What the hell is this even for?"

"Coincidence maybe?" Lincoln said. "Some people have those, anyway, it doesn't matter, let's just go. He's dead, the job is done. It was quick, easy, not messy, and we were successful. Let's count this as a win and head out."

"It's not coincidental," Michelle challenged. "It can't be." She bit her lip. "Martin...he said he's sorry for what's going to come, what do you think that is?"

Lincoln eyed the hourglass that only held a few more pieces of sand at the top of the object. "I don't know, but if that hourglass has something to do with it, there isn't much time."

He yanked his wife by the arm and dashed towards the front door. As the final piece of sand joined the rest of its family at the bottom of the object, Michelle and Lincoln could instantly feel the heat that erupted into the home sting their backs while they frantically darted out of the home, jumped from the porch steps, and landed on the cold, dead grass that sprouted from the ground.

Lincoln pulled his hood closer to his head while he hovered above his wife, effectively protecting them both. They covered their ears to prevent the mind shattering sound from rupturing their ear drums.

Heat poured out of the home as the windows bursted open, instantly shattering the glass and engulfing the entire house into flames.

The couple forced themselves to their feet and moved frantically towards their car. They didn't want to be anywhere near the scene when the neighbors and everyone else in the world got wind of it.

"Well," Lincoln sighed as he turned over the ignition. "Two down...one to go."