A/N: In 3:4 of 24, Jack chokes Chase unconcious to get Salazar out of prison. Why didn't Chase fight him?
I felt like a prick. Sure, I was pissed at Jack. But I had to throw the worst part of his life in his face, threaten betrayal. Chloe's sarcastic voice rose from the back of my mind, "Nice going, Chase. I'm sure Jack feels better about you and Kim now."
Shit, I was prick. My fingers itched to dial Jack's number and apologize for my outburst. He didn't deserve me treating him like that. Especially considering he'd just found out I'd replaced him with his baby girl. Dammit, Chloe told me this was going happen. If only he hadn't ended it between us. I missed him.
Jack and I, we'd been good together. Before him, I never swung that way while I wasn't under cover, and I sure as hell always topped when circumstances demanded me and another guy fuck. Jack changed everything. It was so easy with him. Natural, not awkward at all, unlike the very few other encounters I'd had. Frankly, I liked him topping. It made me feel safe. He made me feel safe, like I hadn't since I realized my sister wasn't Wonder Woman. Security was something I really didn't have the luxury of anymore. What I found with him made it seem like I was in paradise.
Then he called it off one stormy day. That hurt, a lot.
The warden sputtered and waved his hands, but didn't try to stop me really. There would be no marks, I knew what I was doing. Once I was alone, or should I say we, I set about making Salazar talk. He thought I was a light weight. Before, when I was with Jack, it had been fine. Now I showed him what I'd learned growing up a cop's kid in Hell's Kitchen. The accent I lost, the lessons stuck. Anger for Jack let me pound on the son of bitch without guilt. No one, no one, hurt the people I loved. And this little shit had hurt Jack badly. So badly I still hadn't been able to fix him.
My leash had previously been shortened by a soft word from Jack. The bastard didn't know it, but the word of the man who betrayed him was the only thing that kept me from finishing this right then and there. Still, I admit to being rougher Salazar than I should've been. Proudly admit it actually. But no one but Salazar himself would ever know it, the towel on my fist cushioned the impact and prevented obvious bruising.
Time drifted past as I exorcized my own demons on Salazar's body. The bastard had balls, I had to give him that. My assault would have, had had, lesser men streaming information like a leaky faucet.
There was a satisfying thump as I slammed the heavier man into the wall again. I drew back to repeat the motion when a sharp call, Jack's call, of my name pulled me off the bastard like a physical separation.
"Put him in his cell," Jack barked at me, his unhappiness clear.
Unable to deny him, even now, I threw Salazar into his kennel. Panting slightly from exertion, I approached Jack cautiously. The towel remained wrapped around my knuckles, cushioning against blows I might have to block. He looked worse than when I left him. Hot, bitter guilt rose in my mouth. "Jack," I muttered looking away, "About what I said earlier…"
What I said I don't remember. All that really mattered was Jack's smile as he told me, "Yeah, we're okay." To my utter amazement, he cupped the side of my face. Jack rarely touched me of his own volition, and never in public. It was partly my fault. I have no problems touching others, but I have to initiate the contact to be comfortable. But Jack was practically petting me in front of Salazar. The desire to flaunt it, show the bastard that Jack was okay, was definitely there.
Jack's touch made it easy to admit, "You were right. He won't talk…Maybe together?"
The smile didn't waver, "Yeah, yeah." There was something off about the look. It seemed almost sad, but I was too happy to have Jack's forgiveness to really notice. In a heartbeat I would have left any girlfriend, even Kim, if Jack would let me be with him again. Practically bounding with eagerness, I went to get Salazar.
Something hard pressed against my throat, cutting off my air. Instinctively, I knew I had been grabbed from behind. Any counter-moves I would have made were stopped instantly when Jack began to whisper soothingly into my ear. "Easy, Chasey. Trust me now. Don't fight, Chasey. Don't fight me now. Good. That's my good boy, Chasey."
'Chasey,' I could count on one hand the number of occasions that had prompted Jack to call me that. The fight drained out of me and I relaxed into Jack's too tight grip. Black spots danced in front of my eyes as I felt Jack bring us closer to the floor. Blood pooled in my cheeks and lips and my head started throbbing in time with my straining heartbeat.
The pain made me clutch at Jack's arm seeking some sort of comfort. "Good, Chasey," he whispered even as he continued to strangle me. "Shh. Hush now. I've got you, Chasey. Don't be scared."
My chest burned and some basic part of me screamed I should fight this. Something else made me yield to Jack. Like the rest of me, my breathe, my life, was Jack's to do with what he willed. I closed me eyes to signal my surrender. Darkness fell quickly leaving the warm ghost of lips against my temple. I went willingly.