She could still hear the explosion. She could still feel the heat of the flames against her skin. She hadn't heard any screams, but they now reverberated in her head, growing steadily louder as they threatened to drive her insane. Collapsing to the floor, Chloe cried.

Then strong arms snaked around her, pulling her back against a warm chest. Without even looking, she knew who it was, and she turned into him, tangling her fingers in the front of his shirt as she continued to weep. His hands moved up and down her back, trying to soothe her and he whispered over and over again that everything was going to be alright.

But Chloe knew that he was wrong, that nothing would be right ever again. Her husband and her baby had been in that house, and now there was nothing left except ash and flame. Her entire world had erupted in a fiery ball of death.

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Jack carried her into his house, unconvinced that she could walk on her own. Her head leaning against his shoulder, Chloe didn't make a sound, her tears cried out earlier. Now she just stared lifelessly ahead, not taking anything in. Without turning any lights on, he headed up the stairs and towards his bedroom. Once there, he set her down gently on the bed, pulling the covers up and tucking her in. She didn't move or speak – she just laid there, focusing on nothing. Sighing, Jack slipped off his shoes and climbed in next to her, pulling her close and watching her until exhaustion swept over her and she slept.

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The next morning, she still didn't talk to him. For a long time, they just stayed in bed, staring at each other. Jack pushed the hair out of her eyes, tucking it behind her ear, but she didn't show any signs of knowing where she was or what was going on.

Finally, he climbed out of bed and walked over to her side. Taking her hands, he gently pulled her out of bed and walked her over to the bathroom. After walking inside, he turned to face her.

"Chloe, you need to take a shower. You still have some dried blood and ash on you. Do you need me to help?"

She didn't respond. Nodding sadly, Jack turned to the shower, turning the water on and testing its temperature. When it was hot enough, he turned back to Chloe, hesitation clear in his eyes. But she made no move to take off her clothes or kick him out, so he surmised that he was going to need to stay and guide her.

Reaching forward, he gently lifted up the hem of her shirt, pulling it up and over her head. Chloe made no sounds of protest, and her limbs complied with him as he undressed her. His hands shook as he undid her pants and slid them down and off of her legs, but his breathing became labored as well as he moved to take off her bra and panties. But still she said nothing.

Slowly, he pushed her into the shower, following closely behind. The warm water instantly soaked through his clothes, but he didn't care. Reaching out, he grabbed a facecloth and soaped it up before moving his attention to her body. He washed her slowly and carefully, trying to keep his eyes on hers. But she just stared straight ahead, seemingly unaware of the fact that she was naked in front of him.

"Oh Chloe," he whispered, his heart breaking.

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An hour later he had them both dried and redressed. He led her down to the kitchen, sitting her down at the table and pushing her in. Then he went about making her and omelet and toast. When he set it down in front of her, though, she made no move to pick up her fork. Fighting back the tears that threatened to choke him, Jack pulled up a chair and sat in front of her. Then he picked up her fork and put some omelet on it before moving it toward her mouth.

"Please, Chloe," he begged. "You need to eat."

Obediently, she opened her mouth. Silently he continued to feed her until both the omelet and the toast were gone. Then he got up and brought the dishes to the sink, closing his eyes briefly as he tried to cope with the pain and loss that he saw every time he looked at Chloe. But she had no one else now, and he had to be strong for her. So he cleared his throat and opened his eyes before turning around and walking back to her.

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They went on like that for more than two weeks. Chloe came around enough to be able to take care of herself – Jack no longer had to feed her or dress her. But he did have to remind her to eat, and coax her out of bed every morning. And she still hadn't spoken a single word since he the explosion. He hadn't seen anymore tears, either. She simply stared straight ahead, going through life automatically as though she didn't know what else to do.

It hurt him to watch her like that. He wanted desperately to ease her pain, to reassure her that things would get better. Sometimes when they lay in bed late at night, he would beg her to talk to him, to let him know what was going on in her mind. But she either looked right through him or turned over onto her side, closing her eyes and telling him with her body language that she refused to deal with it.

Sometimes he couldn't stop the tears from escaping his eyes.

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One morning she woke up, and he wasn't in bed. Frowning, she sat up and looked around, wondering where he could be. She slid out of bed silently and padded down the hall towards the stairs.

When she got down to the kitchen, she was surprised to see that he wasn't there either. Nothing was cooking, and the dishes from the night before were still sitting in the sink. A rush of panic flooded through her as thought that maybe he had left, that he couldn't handle taking care of her anymore. But as she struggled to control her breathing, something caught her eye outside on the deck. Steadying herself, she stepped outside.

He was sitting in a chair, staring out across the lawn, and open bottle of beer in his hand. His face was pale and drawn, and she could see the paths that his tears had taken as they fell from his eyes.

"Jack?"

He jumped at the sound of her voice, his hand automatically letting go of his beer. As it rolled across the deck, spilling its contents, he stared up at her in disbelief. Slowly, Chloe walked over and picked the bottle up, setting it right again and standing it on the deck next to his chair.

"It's a little early for a beer isn't it?"

He continued to stare at her, his mind refusing to form any coherent sentences. Struggling to come up with something, he managed to croak something out.

"Chloe?"

She nodded and moved closer until she was standing right in front of him, the morning sun shining against her back.

"I thought you had left," she said quietly.

He immediately reached out and took her hand in his.

"No, Chloe. I wouldn't leave you."

"I know it's been hard," she whispered. "Taking care of me –"

He cut her off by pulling her down into his lap. At first her body tensed, but then her mind told her to relax, reminded her that this was the one person she could trust most in the world. So she sank into him, her head leaning against his shoulder as she curled up against him, his arms winding around her.

"I'm sorry."

"No," Jack said fiercely. "No. You have nothing to apologize for."

"I just miss her so much."

"I know."

"But you know what bothers me more?"

"What?"

"That I don't miss him as much as I should. That I know I would be okay if it had been just him that died. If I still had Anna, everything else would be okay."

"It's okay, Chloe."

"How?" she asked, her voice rising. "How is that okay? He was my husband, Jack!"

He gently cupped her face, running his thumb along her skin.

"It's okay," he repeated, staring into her eyes.

Her tears came then, causing her body to shake with the force of them. Jack just pulled her closer to him, rocking her back and forth as the sun warmed them.

"It's okay," he said again, letting his own tears mingle with hers. "You don't have to do this alone. I will never leave you." Then he moved his lips to her ear, making sure that she heard his conviction. "I will never leave you, Chloe."