Author's Note: So, like any recent Renee-Centric piece, there's a bit of anger behind it. Personally, I feel that 24's writing staff went trigger-happy, knowing it would be their last season, and intended everything to have a shock value. Whatever.

I shall cope by writing you this lovely piece, which will detail some of the many options the writing staff could have taken instead. I'll do my best to keep them canon.

Enough of my ranting, and PLEASE enjoy this piece.

~Sally

Jack took another look at her, promising to himself that this would be the time he would get something to drink. His previous attempts had been spoiled by another of her entrancing kisses, another shudder of her spine, her eyes, peacefully shut, her warm breath against his neck…

His thirst was beyond necessity now. He hadn't even looked at a bottle of water in a day and a half.

"Are you thirsty, baby?" He couldn't look directly into her eyes.

She nodded.

"Yah, sounds great."

"Mmkay," he leaned in, to kiss her a temporary goodbye, "Don't move. I'll be right back."

She rolled onto her back and studied the ceiling. Jack's phone rang. She searched the covers for it, while wrapping herself tighter in them. The phone rested on the floor, merely a foot from the bed.

"Jack, Chloe's calling you."

He didn't want her to worry, or to answer that phone. But, damn it, if Chloe called, it must be important.

"Don't answer it, I'll call her back."

There, the perfect compromise.

Renee was in a perfect mood. Even whatever news Chloe offered couldn't ruin it. Confident, she rolled over and snatched up the phone on its fifth ring.

"This is Renee…"

Eerily, a bullet ricocheted through layers of cheap glass. Renee longed to scream, something shrill and desperate, but some unknown force stopped her.

Jack's head instantly spun around. He dropped the two glasses of water that he had poured. Both of them shattered. From his angle, he could see Renee's legs, exposed, and moist with sweat, peering at him from behind the bedroom wall. Next, he looked to the window. A single, hole, the size of his hand, sliced through the center.

"Renee!" He screamed her name. The tears already started racing down his cheeks. He darted across the patch of glass, which put up an unfair fight with his bare feet. Jack wasn't capable of caring.

He called her name again, praying for any sort of answer.

An onslaught of bullets began, swishing over every inch of the apartment. One clipped Jack's shoulder, another his knee. One grazed the side of his face, looking more like a burn than a bullet wound. He reached Renee, and pulled her into the apparent safety of his bathroom. Both of his hands, traced in blood, slammed the door.

"Renee!" He collapsed over her. She was alive. Not for long, though. One bullet had entered through her neck, and left through the back of it. There was no way that she could speak. Another had punctured her chest, and lodged itself in her ribcage. Blood circled each of the wounds, and dripped, especially from her neck. Her blood was hot and cloudy.

Again and again, she tried to say his name. Again and again, he screamed hers. The bullets continued, racing through his windows.

"I'm so, so sorry…"

He shut his eyes, and told her to do the same.

Together, their hearts surrendered.