To Heal The Pain
By: Kayryn
Rated: PG13 to R - for profanity for now and some some kissing and
A/N: Sequel to International Affairs.
I left to enjoy my vacation with strict orders from Sheri to have at least one story drafted when I got back. This is it.
Disclaimer #1: JJ's. Not mine. Never was. Never will be. Dangit!
Disclaimer #2: Chapters two and three have lines that I've shamefully stolen from another favorite show of mine, La Femme Nikita. That scene therefore is not a product of my imagination, but that of the writers of LFN and the credit is theirs. Those of you who have seen the show probably recognize the scene and know what I'm talking about. The funny thing is that when I first wrote this one, I actually wrote that scene and only later wondered why it sounded so familiar... Oh well... Please forgive me oh PTB!
Disclaimer #3: Just a reminder that I'm no doctor and that all the medical jargon used in this story is what I learned from watching ER, Strong Medicine and Chicago Hope.

PART ONE

Irina had been driving for almost an hour, and she was steadily approaching the Russian boarder from where she would continue to her destination, St. Petersburg. Lost in her thoughts and memories of the night before, she smiled. It might have been over twenty years since they had last trusted and loved each other, and yes, there had been a lot of hate and mistrust in the years in between, but none of that had come between them. In fact their passion, which was just as strong as ever, was sated in ways she hadn't remembered.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the shrill tone of her cell phone on the seat next to her. She answered, but couldn't hear anyone on the other end.

"Hello?"

"Irina... " The sound of his voice rasping her name immediately caused her to become alarmed.

"Jack?!?"

"...'Rina.." His voice was barely audible and it scared her. Images of him lying somewhere, hurt, flashed before her eyes. Irina forced herself to push those thoughts away. If he really was hurt, then he needed her head cool, not frantic and out of control.

"Jack, I can't hear you! Are you alright?" Her eyes were already scanning for the next exit, but there were no signs anywhere to indicate one would be coming anytime soon. Irina was still telling herself she was not going to do any good by becoming overly anxious, but when Jack didn't respond to her question, she began to fear the worst. "Jack!!"

"...'Rina... shot..."

Stepping on the accelerator, Irina clearly broke the speed limit, but was soon rewarded as she spotted an opening in the fence that separated the two sides of the highway. Then, practically standing on the breaks, she swirled the car around and drove through the opening to the other side, barely missing a car that had been behind her.

"Hang on, Jack. I'm on my way," she told him, willing her voice to remain steady.

"Help."

Irina swallowed, feeling helpless. "I'm coming, Jack. Just hang on. Tell me where you are."

"... the..."

"Jack, please! I have to know where you are!"

"Kaivopuisto."

Irina recognized the name of the park immediately. It was where Jack had met Silta. It was an open area, but since it was next to the sea, it was bound to be deserted on a cold winter day like this one. Just like they'd wanted. Dammit!

Trying to remain calm, she again told Jack to hang on. She'd be there soon, she promised him, knowing full well it would take her about 45 minutes to reach him. She cursed herself for not knowing the emergency number of the country, and realized she'd have to stop at the next gas station so she could call an ambulance for him. Fuck!

"Just don't give up, Jack."

When he no longer replied to her, Irina cursed in frustration and hit the dashboard with her fist.

"Don't die on me, Jack. Just don't die."

PART TWO

When Irina finally reached the hospital, she was still fuming because the bitch at the emergency center had wasted an extra minute trying to locate someone who spoke English.

Finally able to speak to someone, she'd given them the information they needed, asked what hospital he was going to be taken to, and then prayed they'd get to him in time.

When Irina reached the Meilahti ER, she ran inside and asked the first person she saw where she might find her husband. But he, along with just about everyone else seemed unable to speak proper English, as everyone was either just standing silent, shrugging apologetically, or stuttering incomprehensibly, so she asked the same question again in Swedish and then Russian. Finally someone showed her to a young man who spoke Russian, and he was able to find out where Jack was and what condition he was in. When the young man told her Jack had been rushed to surgery on arrival, Irina had requested she be taken to a waiting lounge nearest to the surgery.

After pacing the lounge and studying the paintings on the wall for a few minutes, Irina saw a young nurse moving towards her. "Excuse me, are you Mrs. Bowman?"

Though familiar, for a moment the name didn't register, but then Irina remembered it was the alias Jack had used. "Yes, that's right."

"I have some papers here for you to fill out when you feel up to it, ma'am. I understand it might be difficult to concentrate on these kinds of things at the moment, but there are some questions the doctors would need to know. Like if your husband has any allergies, illnesses..."

"Right. Of course," Irina said.

"And if you need anything, just let me know. The nurse's station is right around that corner," the woman advised.

"Thank you."

The nurse turned around and walked away, leaving Irina with several sheets of paper and a pen.

Irina was still pacing the waiting room floor an hour later, when a man in a surgical gown approached her. He was in his mid fifties and balding, and he walked with a slight limp. Reaching Irina, he offered his hand and spoke.

"Mrs. Bowman?"

"Yes," Irina answered, now familiar with the name.

"I'm Dr. Niemi. I'm one of the four doctors operating on your husband. Would you like to sit down?"

The words "sit down" coming from a doctor never promised good, but Irina declined the offer, opting to stand instead. Sitting down was a sign of weakness, an admission that you weren't strong enough. And she had to remain strong. For Jack.

"No, thank you. I prefer to stand."

"Mrs. Bowman, I'm afraid I have bad news about your husband's condition," the man said.

Fighting to be able to breathe, Irina forced herself to focus on what the man was saying. He said 'condition', Irina, she pointed out to herself. Were he dead, he would not have a condition.

"I'm sorry, but he's not going to make it," the Doctor continued. "It's just a question of how long he'll stay on life support. I assume you will be the one making that decision?"

PART THREE

Irina couldn't believe what she was hearing. They were just going to give up? They'd been in that room for less than two hours and already they had decided Jack would not live? She wouldn't accept it. No. She would not let them give up.

"I already have," she informed him. "I've decided he's going to recover." When the Doctor was about to interrupt, Irina spoke over his objections. "My husband's will to live is very strong. Your will to save him has to be strong, too. I'll help you."

On reflex, Irina drew her Glock from where she kept it comfortably pressed against her back, placed it against the doctor's throat and released the safety.

With an even, cold voice she told him, "Go back inside. Tell your colleagues to do the possible. Then the impossible and then the unthinkable, until he's out of danger. Because when you're finished, Doctor, that room will contain either five living men or five corpses. Do you understand?"

"Okay," the Doctor answered in a voice that was barely audible.

Lowering the gun, Irina put the safety back on and smiled sweetly. "Good."

Watching the man scurrying back into the Operating Room, she resumed her pacing. She wished she could meditate, but felt too much on the edge to be able to concentrate. Instead, she started to form a plan on how to locate Silta. He had a lesson to learn.

Nearly four hours later, Irina leaned against the wall in the empty room. She hated hospitals with passion. Always had. They reeked of suffering and death. People came to hospitals because they needed help, they were hurt. The only positive reason anyone ever came to a hospital was if they were giving birth to a new life.

Closing her eyes, Irina let her thoughts go back to the night Sydney was born. In agony, she'd almost crushed Jack's hand and threatened to kill him if he ever touched her again. When he'd tried to calm her and remind her to breathe correctly, she had told him to go fck himself, which, of course she apologized the very next minute, promising she loved him with all her heart. Which she had.

Irina opened her eyes and stared through the windows on the opposite wall. The snowstorm from the day before hadn't yet cleared. She stood, mesmerized by the beauty the wind created, by swirling the snow around in an effortless dance.

"Please be okay," she whispered.

When Dr. Niemi came through the doors again, he was looking very pale and several years older than he had a few hours earlier. Irina noted that his hands were shaking, and for a brief moment she thought her would heart stop.

But then the man nodded at her and tried to smile, though he failed miserably. "Mrs. Bowman, your husband is now out of surgery. He's still unconscious, but with time he should make a full recovery. As soon as he's awake, we'll move him to the Intensive Care Unit, where his recovery can best be monitored. And I've also arranged for a private room for him."

Irina looked him in the eye and smiled, this time genuinely. "Thank you."

"Yes... a nurse will come and take you there as soon as they have it set up."

"That's very kind. Thank you again," she said.

The Doctor mumbled something that Irina suspected was Finnish and turned to leave. Walking away, Niemi was, in fact, trying to find similarities in the woman he'd just talked to and the woman who had pressed a gun against his throat only a few hours earlier. He could only come up with one: her devotion to her husband.

PART FOUR

They moved Jack to his own private room under Irina's watchful eye. Jack still hadn't regained consciousness, but the doctors wanted to move him to the ward where the staff was better equipped to take care of him. She studied the staff and their mannerisms, making sure none of them showed signs of knowing about her earlier lapse in control.

When Niemi followed the nurses in, Irina searched his eyes for any indication that he had told someone, but all she saw was a kind of understanding. Whether he had decided Irina was harmless, or he was deathly afraid of her, she didn't know. But the important thing was that no one but the two of them knew what had taken place, and Irina nearly sighed in relief. She would have to be more careful in the future. Her momentary loss of control could have cost her dearly. Then her thoughts drifted to what would have happened, had she not done what she did. Irina shuddered. Don't wallow in 'what ifs', 'Rina, she told herself. It never gets you anywhere.

"Mrs. Bowman?"

Irina faced the doctor and listened as he told her more details about Jack's condition. "He's going to make it, that much I can promise you. But how much damage there's going to be remains to be seen. He could make a full recovery, but then again..."

"What are you saying?"

"You need to prepare yourself for a possibility that he may never walk again." the man looked at her sympathetically.

Irina swallowed, thinking about the implications of what she was hearing. "What?"

"Mrs. Bowman, your husband suffered three gunshot wounds. One of those bullets lodged itself right next to his spinal cord. There's a lot of swelling around that area and there's just no telling until the swelling goes down... and he wakes up."

"Well, when's that going to be?"

"It's difficult to say for certain. But right now he's still under heavy sedation. It should wear off by tomorrow morning."

Glancing at her watch, Irina was surprised to see it was only four in the afternoon. Momentarily confused, she recalled the events of the day. What, in reality, was only nine hour, felt like weeks. She rechecked the time. Yes, only nine hours ago had she been at the Kämp, getting ready to leave. She had kissed Jack goodbye and then, well... things had gotten a little out of hand...


Her hand was already on the handle when she suddenly turned around and walked back to the bed where Jack stood. Reaching to him, she kissed his lips softly, and Jack, wearing nothing but a towel, pulled her closer, deepening the kiss. Fighting a losing battle Irina at first tried to pull back, but soon succumbed to the sensations he was creating in her. She gave herself up to the feel of him, running her hands over his bare shoulders and down his back. Finally, the lack of oxygen forced them to brea k the kiss .

"Don't go just yet," Jack requested.

Resting her head against his shoulder, Irina continued to make invisible circles across his skin with her fingertips. "I have to. You know that. And you'll see me in Valencia in two weeks."

"Two weeks is too long, Irina," Jack resisted. "Look, the park is a five minute drive away, there's no rush."

He gently moved some of her long hair aside and kissed the crook of her neck, causing her to moan.

"Stay."

"I have to... my clothes... other hotel..."

Jack pulled back slightly and, holding her by the shoulders, he repeated, "Stay."

Irina leaned forward and, just before their lips met, she whispered, "I had no intention of leaving."

Later... much later:

"Jack, I have to go. I really do." She pleaded with her eyes for him not to make it more difficult than it already was.

Conceding to the inevitable, Jack nodded. "I know."

Slowly they both began to dress, and soon Irina once again stood at the door with her hand on the handle.

He kissed her once more, before a determined look set upon his face. It really was time. "Good luck with Silta."


Silta...

Leaving the room she made her way to the nurses station.

"Is there a place where I can make a phone call?" Irina asked the two women who were chattering animatedly.

"Yes. Here," one of them told her, pointing to a phone on the table next to her.

"Thank you. I'll be right back," Irina said and went back to Jack's room.

Reaching the bed where he still lay unconscious, Irina took his hand and held it between her own two. She then leaned closer and kissed him on the lips, promising to come back soon.

PART FIVE

Irina placed the receiver back on its place and turned to the two nurses, thanking them for letting her use the phone.

Irina read the nametag the younger nurse was wearing. "Oona? I need to go somewhere for about two hours." Irina took a pen and wrote her phone number on a post-it. "I want you to have my number. If my husband's condition changes I want you to call me immediately, alright?"

"Immediately?" the woman asked, not comprehending the word.

"Right away."

"Oh, yes. I understand," Oona smiled.

Irina was about to turn to leave when the nurse continued, "Oh, and the police is here. They want to ask you some questions about what happened."

For a moment Irina thought she'd made an error of judgement in Dr. Niemi. But even as her brains were already planning and discarding ideas on how to escape and later retrieve Jack, she realized they weren't there to talk about her, but Jack's shooting. Still, she cursed under her breath as the men came into a halt behind her. They couldn't have picked a worse time to do this. Irina had a meeting to go to and didn't have time to play the part of a rich businessman's clueless wife.

"Mrs. Bowman?"

Now turning around, Irina forced a polite smile on her face. She was really getting tired of being called that. Mrs. Bristow had a much nicer ring to it. Nonetheless, Irina nodded her head in acknowledgement.

"I'm Senior Officer Hynninen and this is Officer Tuomi. We'd like to ask you some questions," one of the two men said. "The paramedics told us you were not at the scene when they arrived. Where were you?"

"I was on my way to visit family in St. Petersburg while Richard was going to handle some business matters here in Helsinki," Irina said, thinking how it wasn't too far from the truth.

Nodding, Hynninen wrote down something on his notebook before lifting his gaze to Irina. "And how did you find out about your husband being shot?"

Irina resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "He called me."

"Your husband?"

"Yes."

"I see... " He paused for a moment. As the silence stretched, Irina noticed how the other officer was becoming uncomfortable as he switched his balance from one leg to the other.

If this was supposed to be an intimidation technique, Irina mused, then she was sorely disappointed.

"So then you called 112?" The officer asked after a minute of staring at his nearly empty notes.

"Not at first," Irina said, feeling uncomfortable at having to relive the minutes of panic and helplessness. "I didn't know the number, so I had to stop at a gas station to be able to make the call."

"Riiight..." the man drawled. "So then you made the call."

"That's what I just said," Irina snapped.

"Uh-huh..."

The younger man had been gathering courage and finally managed to approach Irina. "Ma'am, we're just trying to find out who did this to your husband. Do you have any idea who would have grudge against your husband?"

Irina had to bite her tongue stop herself from laughing. Grudge against Jack? Only the leaders of about two dozen crime organizations and their minions. Plus Arvin Sloane.

"No. I can't imagine anyone..."

"Alright then," Hynninen stepped in. "We'll contact you when we have more news. Can I have the number to the hotel you're staying in so I can reach you if necessary?"

"I checked out this morning," Irina explained. "And I want to find another hotel, one that's closer to the hospital. Would it be okay if you call me here? And when I know where I'll be staying, I'll let you know the new number."

From the corner of her eye she saw Oona raising her head. She had obviously been eavesdropping, but Irina wasn't about to give the police her cell phone number since they wouldn't be calling to it anyway.

"Yes, I suppose we can do that," Hynninen conceded before he turned and ushered Tuomi down the corridor.

As soon as the officers disappeared behind the corner, Irina looked at Oona. Should she try to explain? Irina walked over to the nurse's station, but as she reached it, she saw the nurse smiling.

"Don't worry. I would have done the same."

Reassured, Irina smiled her thanks. She glanced at her watch, noticing she was going to be late if she didn't leave right away. She disliked doing what she was going to do, but sometimes, and especially now, it was a necessity.

Walking down the corridor, she passed Jack's room and stopped. The need to see him was strong and she felt herself pulled in.

Standing motionless, she took in everything she saw: the tubes, the needles, and the machines that were keeping his body from falling apart. His face was ashen and were it not for his chest rising and falling slowly, she could have mistaken him for dead.

Yes, there were times when unpleasant businesses needed to be taken care of.

Silently Irina left the room, closing the door behind her and made her way downstairs. As she got to the parking lot, she spotted her car. Walking towards it, Irina reached for her gun and checked the ammo. The clip was full.

Slipping behind the wheel, she started the car and drove away. She counted that it would take her about fifteen minutes to reach the warehouse. She'd arrive just in time.

Fifteen minutes later Irina pulled up her Audi next to a black BMW that was already parked outside a warehouse, and killed the engine. Getting out of the car, she immediately saw the man she'd come to see.

"Irina!"

Stuffing her fists into the pockets of her coat, Irina walked towards him and gestured with a swift movement of her head for him to go inside. "And keep your voice down."

He kept the door open for her and she walked inside past him.

"Don't worry. The area is secluded. No one's going to hear anything," he said, but he closed the door despite his words and turned to face her.

"And what was this morning all about?" he asked. "You promised to protect me."

"Yes..." Irina yielded. Her eyes turned to slits and she cocked her head to one side. "I did, didn't I? What was it that I said exactly? That I would make sure no one would hurt you?"

The man barely had time to nod as Irina promised him, "Well... don't worry, this won't hurt much."

Before Silta had any chance to react to her words, Irina had drawn her Glock and shot him straight through the heart, twice.

She bent down to make sure he was dead and then got up, speaking to the now lifeless form, "You mess with Jack, you mess with me."

Without another glance she left the scene of her last crime.

PART SIX

The next morning, as Oona entered Mr. Bowman's room, she felt a nervous shiver run through her. His wife was sure to be in there, having stayed by his side ever since coming back from her two-hour outing the previous day. The woman perplexed her. The woman had a strange air about her; it was like she was somehow more than she let everyone believe. But what that was escaped Oona.

Opening the door quietly, Oona smiled at the sight that greeted her. Like she'd suspected, Mrs. Bowman was in the chair next to her husband's bed. She was sleeping, with her hand holding his.

Oona approached the bed as quietly as possible, as she was reluctant to wake the sleeping woman. She had noted with concern that Mrs. Bowman had allowed herself very little rest since her husband had been admitted. Taking the chart from the end of the bed Oona scanned it and made some alterations. As she placed the chart back in its place, her eyes were drawn again to the mysterious woman. Looking more closely, Oona noticed how she had linked her hand with her husband's, mingling their fingers. Oona found it difficult to discern where one hand ended and the other began. Even in sleep, the woman seemed both strong, almost undefeatable, and yet vulnerable at the same time. She was like a force of nature lying dormant.

When Oona entered the room again several hours later, she couldn't help but be charmed by the sight that greeted her. Mrs. Bowman was reading aloud to her husband from a newspaper. As the woman became aware that someone else was in the room, she turned a brilliant smile on Oona.

"I think he'd want to know what's going on in the world. If he can hear..."

A look of anxiety flickered across the woman's face. Oona picked up the chart and began to study it. The woman seemed to appreciate the opportunity to collect herself.

Finally returning the chart to its place, Oona returned her attention to the woman.

"Mrs. Bowman..."

"Please. Call me Amanda," Irina said, using the name she'd decided on the day before.

The nurse smiled warmly. "Amanda... I'm... I'm not a doctor, and I don't want to offer you false hopes... but I'd say there's a good chance he's hearing you. I think you should keep talking to him. A lot of times it seems to help with patients in his condition."

Irina managed a faint smile in return. "Thank you." Looking at Jack, she continued. "I've never seen him like this before. Hurt, yes, but not like this. He's always so strong, so..."

Oona placed her hand on Irina's shoulder, letting it rest there lightly. "It's still early yet. I know waiting is not easy, but give him some time."

Looking up at her, Irina nodded before turning her focus on her husband again.

Oona let her hand slip away and was retreating from the room when one of the machines Jack was hooked up on started beeping more rapidly.

Irina raised her eyes to the monitors, and then, unable to make sense of what was going on, called for the nurse to come back.

"What's happening?" Irina demanded, rising from her chair.

The nurse took a quick look at the monitors before hastily telling Irina she would be right back. Irina watched her disappear, trepidation filling her. Still holding to Jack's hand, she crouched to him and, fearing that something had gone terribly wrong, told him to stay with her.

"Listen to me," she whispered to his ear. "You have to fight Jack. You have to. I need you, Jack. We have to find her. Together. I can't do this alone."

Hearing several people entering the room, Irina straightened up and forced herself to move back so the doctors had room to do their work.

"I think he's coming around," she heard one of the men say.

Pushing her way through the doctors, Irina situated herself on the edge of the bed and grasped Jack's hand again. She gasped as she felt him return the gesture.

"Richard? Richard, honey? It's me. Amanda." She sensed, rather than saw, the doctors move back a little, allowing for her to take the lead for the time being.

She hoped he would be either drugged enough not to talk just yet, or just lucid enough to realize what the words entailed.

"Amanda?"

Looking at Jack pointedly, Irina willed him to understand. "That's right, Richard."

Then she saw a glimmer of understanding in his eyes and released a breath she hadn't even been aware of holding.

"Amanda... Where are we?"

"We're at a hospital, love. You were shot. But you're going to be okay." She leaned in closer and kissed his brow softly.

"It's going to be okay," she repeated, now finally able to believe the words herself.

PART SEVEN

Jack laid against the propped-up pillows in his hospital bed and pushed his plate away with vehemence.

"You need to eat, Jack."

"Irina, you're starting to sound like a broken record. Why don't you change the tune," he bit back, regretting the words as they escaped his lips. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath before looking at her. Her hurt expression caused him to wince. "I'm sorry, Irina. I apologize. I just..."

Sighing, Irina nodded. Jack had never been an easy patient and being stuck in a foreign country certainly didn't help. In addition, she knew she was partially to blame for his mood as well. It had been two days since Jack had regained consciousness and he had spent most of his time asking questions about Sydney and Silta, while Irina had been actively avoiding giving him answers. The only allowance Irina had given him was to arrange a secure line so he could call the CIA to inform them that his mission to eliminate Silta had been completed. She had felt this was necessary so that CIA would not become suspicious. In a brief conversation Jack had informed them of his injury, but had told the agency not to send in a team to get him because it would blow his cover. He would return as soon as he was able. What he chose not to reveal at this point was the possibility that he was paralyzed. In fact, the whole subject had not been approached since the doctor had told him the news. And though Irina had witnessed the fear in Jack's eyes, she knew better than to bring it up. They would deal with it only if it became a reality instead of a possibility.

Lacing their fingers, Jack looked at Irina, trying to figure out what she was thinking.

"I know," Irina said at last, "but... try to see it from my point of view, please. When I left the hotel you were fine, and less than two hours later I get a call from you that you'd been shot. Then everything with the doctors, the police, and seeing you here, laying so still..." She paused for a minute, bowing her head. "I just want you to get well."

Grasping her fingers a little tighter, Jack smiled in understanding. "I just hate being tied up in bed."

"So you say now, Mister Bristow, but I happen to remember many a time when you were very much pleased at being tied to bed," Irina said, grinning at the abashed look that spread across Jack's face.

Content for the time being, the two sat, enjoying each other's company and the comfortable silence that stretched over them.

At some point Jack's eyes drifted shut, and Irina thought he'd fallen asleep again. But, when she tried to remove her hand from his hold, he wouldn't let go.

"Irina.. You've been avoiding my questions for two days now. I want to know what you found out from Silta? Are you close to finding Sydney? Do you know where she is? Where she's been?"

"Jack.."

"No, Irina. Dammit, I want to know," Jack said, his voice echoing his relentlessness.

"I have leads, Jack. That's all. I don't know where she is now, and I don't even know if I'm close to finding her. All I can tell you is that Silta had connections to people that know things. Things and other people that again may get me closer to Sydney. I know she's been to London, Cape Town, New York and Oslo," Irina listed. "But I also know that the CIA knows that, too."

Jack nodded and tried to hide his disappointment, though in vain.

"Jack..." she squeezed his hand. "It's going to take a little more time. Every time I feel I'm close, she manages to slip away again."

"I know. It's been the same with me. And now with other work I've been assigned to..."

"So the CIA really has given up on her?"

"Yes, they have."

Irina shook her head in anger and got up, moving to the window and looking out. The snowstorm was finally abating. "I can't believe them! There are still leads. All the time I find something... something new to look into."

"Yes, and the CIA followed those leads. They ended up going in circles. They don't have resources for..."

"Oh, fuck resources, Jack! Our daughter risked her life for that agency countless times and they give up after a few set backs?"

Jack was about to automatically defend the decisions the agency had made, but realized that he couldn't. He resented their decision as much as Irina did, but he lacked the right connections to pursue his daughter's tracks.

"What are you planning, Irina," Jack finally asked, though he wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer. But when she didn't answer his question, he found himself prodding further. "With Silta dead, how..."

"I'll find ways to get to them," she interrupted him, her voice now calmer. "They may not be legal or CIA-approved, but it gets me what I need."

The methods Irina would use, blackmail and threats, went unspoken, both Irina and Jack pretending that when the words weren't voiced, they didn't exist.

Jack studied her face, knowing full well what the real meaning behind her words was. He didn't exactly agree, but he was too tired to argue at the moment. Nodding slowly, he closed his eyes with the intention of resting for a minute.

This time when Irina slipped her hand away from his hold, there was no resistance.

PART EIGHT

It was nearly two weeks later and Irina was standing at the door to Jack's room. His grouchiness had only gotten worse over time. Though physically he was feeling much better, and the swelling on his lower back had decreased some, it was not as much as the doctors had hoped. Therefore he was still confined to bed most of the time and Jack did not like it, nor was he afraid to let everyone know that.

After spending a week in the hospital Jack was ready to tear every nurse and doctor apart and finally started taking his frustrations out on Irina as well. That was the case this time as well.

Leaning against the wall, Irina thought back to this last fight with him and sighed. She could no longer even remember what how it had started, just that an angry word had resulted into another and soon they'd been arguing about everything possible. Finally Irina had told him she was going out for a walk and had marched out of the room without a backward glance, muttering how she couldn't understand how anyone was even capable of being that stubborn.

Glancing at the closed door she wondered how long the doctor was going to spend talking to Jack today. She'd already been on her way back to his room when she'd seen Dr. Niemi approaching Jack's room. Irina knew from experience it was best to stay clear when that happened.

Tired of standing still, Irina pushed herself away from the wall and started to walk the corridors aimlessly. A nurse passed by and smiled a timid smile as the women exchanged a polite greeting. Frowning, Irina turned to glance after the nurse. When had the girl started smiling at her? When Jack had been brought in all of the staff members had been polite but reserved around her. So much so that she was afraid word of her persuasion techniques had leaked out. Only Oona had seemed comfortable, if a little shy, around her. Reaching the lobby Irina dismally took notice that this change in their mannerism was just about the only thing that had changed in the weeks they'd been in here.

Staring out of a window Irina decided for the sixth time that day that she was bored out of her mind. She was not used to this quiet existence of hiding underground for weeks. And she wanted to get on with the search for Sydney.

If you're ready to climb the walls, imagine how Jack's feeling. The thought of her husband made her glance to the direction of his room and she bit down a groan as she saw it was open. Irina leaned her head against the cold glass of the window and took a deep breath before venturing back into the lion's den.

Reaching Jack's room, Irina saw him sitting on the bed, propped up by a number of pillows. Knowing better than to ask how he was feeling, she ventured inside without saying a word.

"Sit down," Jack said, patting the bed. "Please."

As she did, he took her hand in his, a gesture that both surprised and warmed Irina. With all the sparring they'd been doing lately, physical contact was rare. Squeezing his hand gently in encouragement, she waited for Jack to speak.

Brushing his thumb across the back of her hand, Jack took a moment to think of a right way to approach he topic before pressing on, "I just spoke with the doctor."

Hearing the words, Irina had to will herself not to roll her eyes. No shit, Sherlock. Never woulda guessed. However, she wisely kept from commenting and instead of rolling her eyes, she nodded.

"I talked to him about the progress I've been making, or the lack of it. He told me he could understand my frustration, but then I told him that I was particularly irritated that when I'm frustrated I don't have the luxury of walking away or maybe even slamming the door. That when I'm angry, I can't just go and leave the hospital for long walks like you."

Irina grimaced slightly. Noticing this, Jack knew he had the confirmation he'd been looking for, but continued anyway. "He told me that you never leave the hospital except the every second night as agreed. He said that you've always been in the near vicinity of this room."

Before he could even ask if what he'd heard was true, Irina gave him the answer he was after. "He's right."

"Why?"

Not answering right away, Irina studied his hand, as if an easy answer could be found there. Finally meeting his eyes, she said, "Because I wanted to be close by anyway."

They held each other's gazes as the underlying meaning of her words sank in. The one thing neither of them would easily confess to was now plaguing them both. They were scared. Scared and worried about their daughter. And while he'd been venting his frustrations on her because of his fear, she'd been sticking close to him anyway, for the very same reason.

"I'm sorry." Jack's voice was sincere as he said the words and Irina, like she'd known she would, forgave him in an instant.

"Apology accepted," she said in a soft voice before leaning closer to give him a kiss. When they separated, Jack told Irina that he'd also talked with the doctor about the possibility of releasing him. Hearing this was not what Irina had expected, nor was she happy about it.

"Jack, you're not well enough. Not yet."
"To fly back to the States, you're right. The doctors think so too, and I have to admit that I agree. But honey, this place is driving me insane."

Irina sighed and looked away. She was not feeling up to another round.

"So I'm in need of your help."

That caught her attention. "What do you mean?"

"A safe location that's close enough to get to by car. Somewhere we could stay in for another week or two before I can board a plane?" His words were delivered with a small smirk and a little bit of mischievousness in his eye that Irina, despite her better judgment, found impossible to resist. A smile slowly spread on her lips.

"I might know a place like that."

CHAPTER NINE

"It's getting dark. I should go and get more firewood from the shed."

While Irina put on her coat, she heard Jack mutter something about it being a man's job. Turning, she saw her husband leaning on the canes he still needed to support himself.

"I never thought you'd be one for the caveman way of seeing things, Jack." When he kept brooding, Irina added, "I'm more than capable of carrying in a few logs of wood."

Without another word Irina grabbed her gloves from a chair near the door and left the comfortable warmth of the cabin. It was early March but the winter was not letting go of its hold. It was snowing for the first time since Jack had been shot, but it looked like the weather was about to change from light snowfall into a blizzard. Walking briskly across the yard, Irina soon reached the small shed that held the firewood.

When she ten minutes later re-entered the cabin, she was covered in snow and her arms were full of firewood.

"It's official. I hate snow," she muttered as she dropped her load on the floor. "Why couldn't he get shot in Brazil? The villa would be so much bigger and, my god, how much better the weather would be."

Jack was careful to hide his smirk as he heard her talking to herself. He waited until she'd shed her coats and gloves, and watched as she shook the snow out of her now damp hair.

She was still muttering under her breath when she neared the kitchen table where he sat. As she was about to pass him, Jack pushed a mug of hot tea to her hands, effectively stopping her tirade.

Irina lifted the mug to her lips and sipped the hot liquid. Closing her eyes, she sighed as it warmed her. She turned to him, only to find her husband already on his way to the livingroom.

Irina took a moment to look around her before following him. She'd acquired the cottage some years ago, half expecting to never have any use for it. Now, as it turned out, it was a good thing she did. Since buying the place, she'd come back only once. The closest of her neighbors, an elderly bachelor living some three miles away, kept it in good condition for her. Equipped with one large room that joined the kitchen and a single bedroom, the little log cottage was small but comfortable. The main room was airy despite its small size; the few pieces of furniture and a fireplace giving the room a cozy feeling without being stifling.

Coming out of her reverie, Irina's attention was drawn back to Jack, who, by that time was on the couch, but taking his sweet time getting comfortable.

After filling her mug with more tea, Irina made her way to him and sat on the floor in front of the fireplace.

"Thank you for the tea. It's good."

Jack, clearly tired, merely nodded.

Setting the mug on the floor close to her, Irina reached for kindling and started fire. Soon the flames were merrily eating the dry wood. Both content to enjoy the rare moment of peace, they sat in silence for a long time, watching the fire.

"So tell me," Jack finally said, "how did you come to buy a cottage in the middle of nowhere?"

"About five years ago there were situations that convinced me that a safe house, a hideout of sorts, could be useful around these parts. It's close to Russia, but not in Russia. Finland is a western country, but only has about five million people. Politically it's quite unbiased and, though now part of the EU, it's an independent country," Irina explained.

Jack nodded. "Makes sense."

"As for this particular location... It's not too far from the Russian boarder, close to a large town, but still secluded and close to the nature."

"Well, it's more than close to it. We're in the woods, Irina," Jack remarked.

"Alright, so it is," she admitted. "But at least the only thing you can expect to run into here are wild animals."

Jack acceded, hoping she was right.

"Where do you think she is?" Irina asked after several minutes of silence.

"I don't know, Irina." They looked at each other, the cruel reality of the words weighing on them both. "I wish I did."

"I know, love," she sighed. "I know."

Wanting to change the mood, Jack decided to veer the conversation to something happier. "Remember that time Sydney was five and she was going to her first sleepover. What was the name of that friend of hers? Sheri?"

"Sheri... Oh, yes. I remember." Irina smiled at the memory. "She was so excited to spend the night at her friend's, and we were all worried if she'd be alright."

"I don't think I slept a wink that night, wondering how she was doing," Jack confessed.

"Me neither. I kept staring at the phone, expecting it to ring any second. I thought she wouldn't be able to fall asleep and we'd eventually have to go and bring her back home."

Jack chuckled a little. "Wishful thinking. I will never forget the smile she was wearing the next day."

"Or the week-long detailed explanations of what had been going on that evening," Irina returned with a smile.

"All that night we were worried how she'd cope without us, and it turned out..." He paused before continuing, his voice now rough with emotion. "And it turned out that we were the ones having a hard time without her."

"We'll find her, Jack. She's strong and smart. She's okay."

"Of course she is. She's our daughter." The words were spoken with more conviction than either one felt. Not seeing a point in voicing words that had no real meaning, both fell silent.

Irina rose from the floor and sat next to Jack. He put his arm around her, and she leaned close, wrapping an arm around him.

Almost half an hour later Jack felt Irina move again. She was saying something, but she was speaking in a voice so low he couldn't hear her.

"What was that?"

"I'm scared, Jack."

"Irina..."

"I'm scared that we won't find her. Or that we won't find her in time to..."

"I know, love. Me, too." Again, succumbing to silence, Jack cradled her against his chest. As they held each other close, they drew and gave comfort in equal measures.

CHAPTER TEN

The next morning over breakfast Jack watched as Irina sipped her coffee and reread her own notes, trying once again to find something she had missed earlier that would put them on Sydney's trail.

After some inner debate on his part, Jack decided it was time for Irina to leave his side and move on with the search. "Irina..."

"No, Jack," she interrupted him curtly.

Jack stared at her dumbfounded. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"You want me to leave you here and go after the clues Silta left us."

For a second Jack could only stare, trying to grasp that once again Irina had read his mind perfectly. "That's right. There's no reason for you to stay here, Irina."

Using the table to push herself away from it, Irina rose and turned her back on Jack. "I won't do it, Jack."

"Why not? The leads are fresh, you know better than to let time destroy the clues we could get from these people," Jack tried to reason with her.

"Let it drop. You're stuck with me and that's all there is to it."

Jack couldn't believe his ears. He couldn't help raising his voice at her. "I cannot believe you're saying this. This is Sydney's life we're talking about!"

"Do you think I'm not aware of that?" Irina yelled back at him, suddenly furious for both not dropping the matter and for once again questioning her love for her daughter. "Would you like me to find her or get caught while wondering if you're okay?"

"I would like you to trust me to take care of myself!"

Slamming her fist on the table, Irina stared at Jack so intensely he thought she would see the back of his skull. Then just as suddenly as she'd exploded, Irina calmed down. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to him and sat on a chair next to his. Not breaking the eye contact for a second, she searched for his hand with her own. Finding it, she gave it a gentle squeeze.

"It's not about trust, Jack. It's... as cliché as it sounds... It's me. I need to see that you're okay."

When Jack opened his mouth to speak, she silenced him by placing a finger to his lips. "Truly okay."

Jack pondered her words. He still felt she should go after the people Silta had named, but Irina's words rang in his head. Or get caught while wondering if you're okay. Reminding himself that Irina truly did care for him, a truth he had only recently learned to accept, he tried to see it from her point of view.

When seconds stretched into two minutes, Irina finally spoke again. "Can you understand what I'm trying to say?"

Making up his mind, though still not completely happy with the outcome, Jack gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Yeah."

Smiling, Irina nodded. Peace achieved, at least for the moment.

Looking around at the snow covered trees, Jack thought the scenery was more suited to be part of one of the fairytales he used to read to Sydney when she was little, than a hideout for a woman whose name decorated the CIA's most wanted list. All around him there was white untouched snow covering the earth. Here and there he could spot a trail of animal tracks. Most likely a fox by the look of it, he mused.

Looking further down the road, he saw Irina standing still, staring into nothing it seemed. He frowned. For the past few hours he could tell there was something on her mind, but he knew she would come to him with it when she felt it was time. This was not to say it was easy not to ask about what was bothering her. But ever since their argument over her staying four days ago, he'd made a promise to himself not to rush her. He knew she was battling with the her inner demons as much as he was and he would not add to her burden any more than he had to by keeping her stuck here in the middle of nowhere.

Making his way to her, Jack noted it was beginning to get easier to walk around with just one cane helping him along. Pleased with this, he tried adding a walking at a slightly brisker pace. Acknowledging that it only added a small amount of discomfort and no real pain, he kept up the pace.

As he got closer to Irina, she turned to face him. "Jack, be careful. I don't want you to overdo it."

"I'm alright, Irina. I hardly feel any difference if I walk just a little faster. I won't try to run yet, though."

Irina forced a smile at his words and then turned away from him again. Nearly groaning with frustration, Jack settled for taking her hand in his and, while pulling her along with him, he continued down the road.

Some minutes later, Irina stopped and placed her hand on Jack's chest, silently asking him to do the same. They stood like that, face to face in the middle of the road for long moments before Irina finally raised her gaze to meet his eyes.

"Why didn't you tell Sydney the truth about me?"

Jack didn't need to ask what she was talking about. Taking both of her hands in his, he took a moment to find the right words before answering.

"At first... At first I was going to. I was angry; I wanted her to know what I knew. But then the six months... When I got out, she was practically worshipping everything about Laura. She'd already lost her mother to death. I didn't want her to lose her mother twice."

Irina thought about his answer for a moment, before smiling a gentle smile. "Thank you."

"I didn't do it for your sake," Jack said, cursing himself as soon as the words left his lips.

Tilting her head on one side, Irina regarded him quietly before answering. "I know. But still, thank you. You were well within your right to tell her the truth, to have her hate me, too."

Devoid of any words to say, Jack only nodded.

Later that evening they were seated on the couch in front of the fire, both lost in their respective thoughts.

"I don't hate you, Irina. You must know that," Jack said, breaking the long silence. Her earlier words had been haunting him for hours now.

"I know you no longer do. And when you did... you had every right to, Jack. I don't blame you for having those feelings. You had no way of knowing how I truly felt."

"I," Jack started, then instead of finishing the sentence, kissed her head. He felt her relaxing against him and he let his thoughts wander again, enjoying the rare moment of peace that he'd been offered.

Some time later, Jack's fingers absentmindedly started a journey from her temples down to her neck caressing all the way down her back.

Irina for her part sneaked her hand under Jack's shirt where it was resting against his bare chest, feeling his steady heartbeat. She angled her head back and Jack lowered his, so that their lips were touching. The kiss was sweet and loving, both of them enjoying the feel of the other's lips against their own. When they finally separated, Jack said, "Were I not in such a bad shape, I'd take you on the floor."

"Damn straight! If only I wasn't so tired."

Jack chuckled and then, sighing, said, "We should go to bed."

Smiling at the words Irina kissed him before answering, "Yeah... we should."

PART ELEVEN - epilogue

The road where they stood was deserted except for them. Irina stood next to Jack thinking how was hard to believe that only five weeks had passed since Jack had been shot. His walking had slowly gotten steadier and he claimed that the last few days had been pain free. A claim that Irina doubted was entirely true, but she knew he was well enough to go back home. And so the day before they'd agreed it was time to leave the cabin. Jack's things were packed into a rented black Renault that he would leave to the airport at Helsinki-Vantaa from where he would go to Los Angeles. Irina on the other hand would drive directly to St. Petersburg would continue her way to Prague by plane.

Feeling the moment of their separation nearing, Jack pulled Irina into a hug and she held onto him, soaking in the feel of him surrounding her.

"Two weeks," Irina whispered, her head still buried in his chest.

"Not really that bad considering how long we've been apart before," he said, trying to lighten the mood.

Irina raised her head to lock her eyes with Jack's. Placing a finger on his lips she hushed him before leaning in closer for a tender kiss goodbye. The kiss lingered on until finally they forced themselves apart.

Save for his expressive eyes, his face was a mask of indifference as Jack turned around and walked to his car. In seconds he was gone, leaving Irina standing alone in the cold.

The end