whathastobedone | For Jack Bauer -- a MM thread

For Jack Bauer -- a MM thread

She can feel it slipping through her fingers. Everything. All of it. Vladimir has called every contact he could possibly think of, and none of them know anything about the nuclear rods.

"Well, somebody that you've already talked to has to know something!"

"Renee, it's done."

No. No, it's not done. It can't be done. Jack's sitting downstairs waiting for this information; all of CTU is counting on her to find these rods, and if it's done that means the mission is over. Jack will pull her out, and she'll go back to...

What?

"We made five million."

"Why settle for five when we could have fifty?"

He laughs, and just looking at him makes her sick to her stomach, but then he's touching her and it's all she can do to keep her cool -- keep her cover. She smiles at him, hands on his waist like the thought of his body against hers doesn't repulse her, and tries to think.

"Five million is plenty. Plus, we have each other. That's not so bad, is it?"

"No, it's not bad," she smiles. "But it could be better!"

And then she moves, trying not to run but keeping her steps quick as she goes for his phone.

"Call them again. Do it for me."

Please.

Please.

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Her lips move in what might be a smile, but it doesn't reach her eyes. She doesn't say anything; for a long time she just looks at him, like a broken china doll, struggling to breathe.

And then she turns, and walks away.

Returning a moment later with her chair. She settles herself next to him, slipping one hand underneath his and another over, trying not to compare the blood on their skin when she starts to brush her thumb over his knuckles.

He sits up a little in surprise when she turns and walks away, but lies back once he realizes she's getting the chair.

It feels good to have her sitting next to him, holding his hand. It's a feeling he doesn't want to lose, though he knows they're going to have to move as soon as his head clears.

"Earlier you mentioned that I was ready to die after I got infected, that I was resigned to it. Do you know why?"

Some of his memories of that day are still a little hazy, though he's pretty sure he wouldn't have told her that. He's not entirely sure why he's saying this much now, other than the possibility that the drugs are loosening his tongue.

"Relax."

He doesn't do enough of that, especially when he's wounded. Hell, even she is sitting heavy in her seat with nothing more than a slow forming bruise on her face, and a tears-induced headache behind her eyes.

She needs him to be okay.

She glances at his face when he speaks, carefully searching him out. Eventually, she shakes her head, swallowing tightly with the memory of that conversation.

"Because I was tired," he says softly, reaching for her hand again. "Tired of always fighting and of losing the people I cared about. When I got back from China, the only reason I was still alive was because I wanted my death to have some meaning. It took me a long time to even start trying to find a way for my life to have some meaning. When I found out I was infected...it just seemed like I could finally let go. Especially as I thought, at first, that I didn't have anyone to leave behind."

"You have your daughter," she whispers, a deep frown on her face. "And your granddaughter. Jack, you have a family. And friends who care about you. Chloe."

She pauses, wondering if her next words will mean anything to him or not.

"And me. I care about you."

It does mean something to him; it means quite a lot, actually. Partly because it might help her to have something to lose. Partly because he still has so few people he's close to that one more makes a difference. But mainly, it's because he cares about her, and knowing she reciprocates warms something inside him.

And because of that, he gives her something she's probably never seen from him: an honest, real smile.

"I know that now; I didn't then. I didn't even know about Teri until I came out of the coma. But when I did, it made all the difference. It makes everything else easier to live with."

She watches his face -- watches the way the corners of his eyes crinkle, the color of those irises seeming to glint, like soft and unsure rays of sunlight breaking through storm clouds -- surprised by the genuineness of his smile, and the way the corner of her mouth quirks in response.

It isn't an expression she's seen before, and it fills her with something she desperately needs right now: a sense of ease. Her thumb moves over his knuckles again.

"It was worth it," she murmurs, "having to go behind your back. Hearing you say that. Part of me was afraid, when you called. That you were angry with me still, for getting Kim involved."

Jack shakes his head. "The main reason I didn't want Kim to go through with it was the small risk to her, and the likelihood that it wasn't going to work. I didn't want her to watch me die; not like that."

He pauses for a moment, almost mentioning his conversation with Gohar before Macer had put him under. He doesn't, though. He's not sure he can describe just why he began to forgive himself for all the things he'd done at that moment, and he's not sure it'll be of any help to Renee.

"When I woke up, it was already done, and when Kim told me about Teri... It made a difference, knowing that I might survive, and that I had a granddaughter. It made me realize that I wanted my life back, and I was willing to do whatever it took to get it."

She listens to him quietly, nodding her understanding when he speaks about Kim. She's happy for him -- for them. She's happy it worked out, and he made it through. The thought of him dying like that, even if he died as a hero, horrified her.

(It still does.)

But his closing words, no matter how happy she is for him, and no matter how strong he thinks she is, still stabs her with a quiet grief. She stares hard at some invisible spot on the hospital bed, and frowns wordlessly.

She has no family; not like he does. Nothing to go back to. Even if she managed to get back on her feet, she won't go back to the bureau, even if they ask her. Larry's dead. Janice hardly speaks to her. She has nothing.

"I...I care about you."

Nothing except for this moment.

He sees her expression change, of course, and squeezes her hand.

"What is it?" he asks, though he has a fairly good idea.

She purses her lips, shaking her head slowly (keeping her eyes down).

"I'm real happy you had that, Jack."

"But?" he asks. He's prodding more than he usually would, but he has a feeling that if he doesn't, Renee's never going to tell him what she's really thinking.

"No buts," she murmurs, glancing up at him.

She returns the tender squeeze of his hand.

"It's just ... I don't have anything like that." She thinks about that for a moment. "I have nothing to show for myself. All I had was the job."

He gives her a lopsided smile. "You've got me, for what it's worth."

She returns the crooked grin, though brief and thin it is.

"You'll be in California soon. With a daughter who'll be angry as hell that you got yourself another scar."

"She doesn't have to know; and she won't, unless someone tells her," he says, giving her a significant look.

She lets out a slow breath -- it might be an attempt at a laugh.

"My lips are sealed. So long as you give yourself time to heal up right."

Without really thinking about it, she reaches up to his collar, fussing with a stain that may or may not be just her imagination.

"Maybe I'll have to stick around New York for a while, then. I wouldn't want to go out west to early and give it away."

Her eyes shift to his, searching him out with silent question.

"Maybe at least a couple days, just to make sure everything's fine. Or I could spend it in here, and then I wouldn't lose any time out there."

Of course Renee might not be staying in here, which is really what he's thinking. He doesn't want to seem like he's babysitting her, but then he doesn't really want to take off for the other side of the country and leave her either.

She arches her eyebrows and blinks.

"Stay ... here? In the infirmary? I didn't think you were much of a good patient."

"No, upstairs. There are rooms for people to stay in up there. There are some people that live here, some people that come in and have the door temporarily disappear so they can't leave, and...well, some people are dead and can't leave until they're ready to move on."

She would have remarked on there being rooms above a bar, wondering aloud yet again just what sort of place this is to have an infirmary and a veritable hotel attached to it. But those words never quite make it past her lips.

She blinks at him, and then her eyes go slightly wide.

"Some people ... what?"

"A small number of people come here for a while after they die," Jack says, a little tentatively. "It seems like it's often people who aren't quite ready to go...wherever they go just yet. People who deserve the time."

He's hoping that'll be enough to keep her from fearing that Laitanan will be in the bar. Laitanan better not come in here or, rules or no rules, Jack isn't sure he'll be able to stop himself from taking his own revenge.

Renee blinks hard, and turns her head away to try and process that information.

It's about as hard as one might expect. Especially given everything.

She lets go of Jack's hand, and presses her hands to either side of her head.

"Oh my god. I am completely unstable," she mutters, wondering if this is supposed to be heaven or hell, and why, of all the things, she's put herself here.

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