Played
with this idea for a bit and not quite sure what i think about it but
it was fun to write.
Its Tony's after day 3 reflecting on things
He
did what he did because he loved her. It was that simple. Except it
wasn't. He'd run the situation through his head over and over,
trying to make sense of it.
His current theory, and it was only a
current theory and was subject to change with both his pattern of
thoughts and his mood, was that that was not the reason at all.
He'd
done what he did, not because he loved her, although that was a valid
point, but because he couldn't bear to see her get hurt. That was
not the same thing as loving her, nor was it the same thing as not
wanting her to get hurt. He didn't want to see her get hurt. It was
another thing entirely.
If he'd loved her, he would not have
been willing to let her get hurt, but he would have also listened to
her. Her voice rang through its head in the same way as it had done
every second of every day since he arrived here. A simple laugh, her
annoyed sigh before she launched into an explanation of why it was
important that he left his keys on the hook and not wherever it was
he had left them in this particular instance, a stifled sob where
eyes pressed tightly closed and jaw clenched had not been able to
prevent it. She was with him constantly, even if she wasn't
actually with him.
He could hear her as she repeated what she'd
been told over the phone, not a trace of fear in her voice. This was
followed by her almost begging him not to do this. Anyone who knew
her less well would think that this was motivated by fear, but he
knew her, and he knew that she was prepared, more than prepared, to
die. She had accepted that she was going to die, hell, she had had to
accept it in the hotel, so it wasn't such a big leap to apply that
to this situation. And yes, he knew full well that she was scared,
but he knew that she wasn't about to let that show. He was the only
one that she showed things like that to.
But he hadn't
listened. The person he loved more than anything in the world had
begged him not to do this, not to let LA, and probably after that the
entire world, go to hell just so that she could live. But he had
ignored her, and this was the source of today's current theory.
But the theories, they were based on something else entirely. His
marriage, their marriage, had been hell. There was no secret there. 2
years of fighting to even be allowed to date had led to difficulties
on a level that neither of them imagined. Peculiarities that should
have been discovered much earlier on weren't discovered until after
they were married. There outlook on the future was entirely
different. She refused to have kids until they were both in jobs
where dying wasn't a distinct possibility. He on the other hand,
wanted a family as soon as he could get one, having watched the rest
of his family move away with their lives, he desperately wanted to
build himself a new one.
That was why the job at Langley was so
important, stable jobs meant a chance at a family, and being away
from CTU would take them away from prying eyes that were waiting for
them to fail.
Then there was the matter of the lies. He had lied
to her 78 times, counting each one of them and praying it would be
the last. And although she hadn't known, it had put a distance
between them, her aware that something was wrong, and him not quite
being able to meet her eyes knowing that he was lying to her.
And
yes he loved her, but something inside himself questioned whether he
had done the right thing, and so he created theories to explain his
actions, anything really to try and explain what he had done, to try
and wash away the guilt that swallowed him.
At last he heard the
rustle of keys approaching, breaking the soft echo of her breathing
that surrounded him. This was it, this was his chance. He brushed his
fingers across his cheek, unshaven for days. He knew publicly she'd
disapprove, but he also knew that in reality she loved the way his
stubble felt against his face. Not that she be able to touch him,
they had nice glass walls to prevent that.
He tried a smile out
in the mirror, anything to cover up the hollowness in his face and
the dark pits in his eyes from nights of sleeplessness caused by her
agonised screams as the knife blade entered her flesh. This had never
happened, and yet he knew every movement the knife made and her every
feeling as the cold metal penetrated her eye.
The smile was not
enough to cover this up, but it was a start and he knew she'd
appreciate the effort. And more than anything he needed her to
appreciate what he had done, understand, forgive, anything really.
Because he couldn't keep going on like this. And after all, he
really did love her.