Submitted as a "Tag, You're It!" Challenge at 24nmore dot com. I was tasked with Chloe/Renee/Angst, and this is what I came up with. Hope you enjoy :).
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Renee looked at her hands, worrying the tape securing her index and middle fingers as she waited on the elevator. It was dirty, and the paper tape was frayed a little amid the swollen knuckles, the bruising and discoloration of her formerly slender digits. She flexed her hand experimentally and frowned.
It had been four days, four days since she questioned Wilson. She hadn't slept. Her career was over and she had two broken fingers. And Jack could die.
The last sentence buzzed through her head like angry bees. He could die.
The elevator dinged, a reprieve from the chaos of her own thoughts. She stepped inside. It was close and hot, but at least she was alone.
Renee depressed the button with the flat pad of her thumb, the only finger on her right hand that didn't need icing every few hours. She didn't think of it, of any of it, only stared straight ahead into the smeary reflection of the brushed metal doors.
She was a mess. Her hair was tangled and her eyes were puffy and red-rimmed. She fingered her locks with her good hand, trying to smooth them down, and wished she had a ponytail holder. But it didn't matter. The elevator settled quietly and her reflection cleaved in two, opening to reveal the Critical Care Unit.
Renee stepped out onto the glossy floor. "Critical," she thought, as in "he could die." She slammed her eyes shut against it.
"May I help you?"
She flinched minutely at the intrusion. The nurse looked expectantly at her, and Renee had to actually think of what she should say.
"I'm here to see a friend."
For a hospital, this floor was eerily quiet. Active, but quiet, filled with silent sentries and placid, capable attendants. Renee felt out of place.
The nurse led her to a large door. The observation windows to the right of it were shuttered and dark.
She pushed it open slowly, the still, warm air inside puffing forth with the swinging door. "Five minutes," the nurse had told her. She needed less than that. Really, had the observation windows been opened, she wouldn't have gone in at all.
She just needed to see him.
Renee approached in the near-dark, her eyes adjusting quickly. She followed the monitors, their artificial light glowing mutely in the murk. And then she saw him.
And looked away. "Can't…can't," her mind seemed to stutter, so she looked at the monitor readout instead, the gentle dips and arcs of an EKG. He wasn't gone yet, and knowing it gave her courage. She looked at him fully for the first time.
He was still, almost too still, and ashen. She looked at his smooth forehead and expressionless mouth and worried her bottom lip. Renee glanced at the monitors again, but their slight rhythm remained uninterrupted. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. Standing beside him like this gave her such a palpable sense of urgency it was hard for her to remain still.
"Jack."
The syllable hung in the air a moment, then fell away. She touched his arm, expecting the warmth there to reassure her. It didn't. His skin felt waxy and unnatural. Renee recoiled, feeling suddenly claustrophobic. "Jack," she said again, but her throat constricted before the whole word was formed.
"He can't hear you."
The voice startled her. She wasn't crazy about the idea of another person in the room, let alone one she couldn't see. She tensed.
"He's in a medically induced coma," the voice stated flatly.
It was Chloe O'Brian.
Renee heard the chair scrub as Chloe moved to stand. Somewhere, a light flickered on.
Chloe O'Brian was a slight woman, but imposing. Renee didn't know her very well, only that Jack thought very highly of her. In fact, Chloe was one of the few people in Jack Bauer's inner circle.
Chloe approached her casually. She looked at Jack and clamped her lips together, placing both hands on the bedrail. "He's been like this since the procedure. The doctors aren't sure if Jack's body will accept the stem cells, so they're keeping him sedated."
Chloe had been looking down at Jack, not at Renee, the entire time she was speaking, and Renee could see the deep care and concern she had for her friend writ plainly on the woman's face. Chloe O'Brian might be prickly and standoffish, but not when it came to him.
"I'm sorry," Renee said. It was the first thing out of her mouth, but she couldn't say she'd thought of it. Chloe looked at her.
"Yeah," Chloe said mildly. "Me too." A whisper of the anguish she'd endured over the past few days passed quickly over her face, then slipped behind the usual mask. Behind her, Renee could see a blanket draped over the arm of an awkward-looking vinyl chair. A laptop was on the floor beside it, and next to that, a dog-eared paperback.
"Come on," Chloe said suddenly, shattering the quiet that had settled between them. She blew out a little breath. "Let's get out of here."
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They walked in companionable silence as Chloe led them down a cavernous passage and through two swinging doors. The cafeteria was bright and busy, with garish orange tiles bordering the wall about midway to the ceiling. Hospital personnel and visitors alike ruminated over salads and soup at little café tables. The colors and crowd made Renee's head hurt.
Renee went through the line, choosing a Danish and coffee out of habit more than actual interest, and followed Chloe to a table near the back, partially hidden from the din by an artificial ficus tree.
"How is he?" Renee had barely sat down before she got the words out, but after minutes of tense silence between them, it was a relief to finally break it.
Chloe looked at her blankly, her forehead creased. "You were up there. What do you think?"
Renee opened her mouth, then closed it. "I'm sorry," Chloe said. "I didn't mean to sound—"
"It's ok," Renee said quickly, intuiting how uncomfortable Chloe was.
"To be honest, the doctors just don't know yet," Chloe tried again. She paused, growing quiet. "It could go either way."
They ate in silence. Renee pinched off little pieces of the dessert, mostly to have something to do with her hands, and Chloe ate a sandwich. To Renee, Chloe didn't look that bad to have been spending most of her time in a hospital for four days. But from what she could tell (and from what she could glean from Jack), Chloe was a woman who could take care of herself.
"I'm glad you're here with him," Renee said after awhile. "He needs someone."
"Yeah. Kim's recovering on another floor, and Teri's with her dad and then she's so little. I just…" Chloe shook her head, frustrated at her inability to express herself adequately.
"I want him better too," Renee said, managing a small smile. "That's why I came by. After everything that's happened, I just needed to see him."
Chloe nodded, noticing Renee's hand for the first time.
"Are you ok?"
Renee considered it briefly. "Oh yeah," she said, a little too lightheartedly, "It's uh…you know, it will heal." She cleared her throat, uncomfortable.
"Have you had to talk to anyone yet?"
Renee looked up from her pastry, not quite sure what Chloe meant.
Chloe eyed her evenly. "About Wilson," she said.
Renee swallowed. Of course Chloe would know.
She looked at her plate, a little embarrassed. "Um, yeah. And there's a hearing," she said quietly. "The fifteenth."
Chloe nodded soberly, the moment stretching between them. She looked at Renee's battered hand, then at her. Her mouth twitched. "You did the right thing."
Renee hadn't expected that. Recrimination, maybe, or at least some of Chloe's classic candor, but not approval. She sat back and closed her eyes.
Chloe just looked at her, her face unreadable. "You did Renee," Chloe continued. "And Jack would've done the same thing."
Renee opened her eyes. She hadn't realized she was crying and quickly brushed away the errant tears. Her face went dark.
"I'm not so sure that he would."
Renee's voice was so vacant, so distant-sounding, Chloe wasn't even sure if she'd heard her right. For the first time, Chloe noticed Renee's bedraggled appearance. She doubted Renee had slept a night since all of this happened.
"The last thing he told me," Renee said quietly, "was to make decisions I could live with." She wet her lips, looking slightly past her. "I don't think I've done that Chloe."
She worked her mouth, figuring out what to say. Chloe wished she wasn't so bad at this.
"Jack doesn't second guess himself," she said finally. "I mean, in all the years I've known him, he's never done that. Or I've never seen him do that." Chloe's frown deepened, and she shifted uncomfortably.
"What I'm trying to say is," she finally spat out, "that if Jack were here, he'd tell you you were right, Renee. And whatever happened with Wilson was what needed to happen at the time. And that it's over, and you need to forgive yourself." Chloe quirked her mouth, an almost-smile. "At least I think that's what he would say."
Across the table, Renee gaped a little. It was the most she'd ever heard Chloe O'Brian say at once. She looked down at her lap, worrying the edge of the napkin there. "I think I messed up Chloe," she mumbled quietly. She didn't look up.
"Probably," Chloe said. "But it will blow over. And I will help you if I can."
Renee looked up, a little surprised. She was beginning to understand why Jack held Chloe in such high esteem. Jack had to appreciate her no-nonsense truth and unquestioned loyalty when so many people in his life had failed him. Renee frowned. "Thank you," she said.
Chloe gave a little shrug, a quick smile. "Come on," she said, and looked at her pointedly. "It's time to get back."