Jack cursed her, long and fluently, then winced as his head began to throb.
"Bad, is it?" asked Irina, with sympathy. "Sit down, and drink this." She poured a hot, steaming drink from a thermos.
Jack sniffed it suspiciously, then nodded. Coffee, with a few other things thrown in. "Unlock the handcuffs," he snapped as he staggered into a chair.
Irina stepped back and surveyed him. "What will you do with your hands free?"
"Probably strangle you," admitted Jack, not feeling up to lying.
"Thought so," said Irina. "We'll keep them on for the time being." She approached him with the coffee, and gestured for him to drink from the cup. He pulled his head back abruptly.
"Unh uh. You think I trust you to pour hot coffee down my throat? Without spilling?" Jack gestured downward with his eyes, a meaningful expression on his face.
Irina sighed with exasperation. "Stop being such a baby." But she fetched a hand towel from the bathroom and laid it over his lap. Once more she lifted the cup and held it carefully while Jack sipped, neither saying a word as he slowly regained his strength. After two cups he pulled back his head and indicated he was done.
"Better?" she asked, concern in her voice.
Jack nodded.
"Alright then, you idiot," Irina hissed angrily, her manner changing abruptly. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"What am *I* playing at?" asked Jack incredulously. "Can I remind you that *I'm* the one who's been assaulted for the last 30 minutes?"
"When you crawl into a bottle it takes some effort to pull you out," replied Irina tightly. "I needed to talk to you. Sober. It looked like it was going to be a long wait."
"I'm 54 years old. You are my *ex*-wife. I fail to see how a 1-night binge is any concern of yours."
"Oh, but it's not a 1-night binge, is it Jack?" replied Irina in a low, dangerous voice. "Almost two months. Rotating bars so that the bartenders won't recognize you. Carried home 8 times by your security detail."
A dull flush crept up Jack's neck as he absorbed the accuracy of Irina's information. "You've been having me followed?" he demanded, incensed. "Why? Wanted to see who I've been sleeping with?"
Irina smiled derisively. "Nice try, Jack. The state you've been in, it would be the easiest money a whore ever earned," she said, eyes flicking mockingly towards his lap.
"Enough!" Jack roared, his face now scarlet. "Unlock these cuffs and get the hell out of here!"
"Oh no, Jack. Not *enough*. We're just getting started," taunted Irina.
Jack lunged out of the chair in fury, trying to knock her down. She easily sidestepped him and clipped him on the head as he went by. He staggered but kept his footing and wheeled, facing her once again. One of his feet shot out, but Irina was no longer there. In one smooth motion she dodged his blow and countered with her own, connecting with his knee. With a grunt of pain, Jack collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.
"Nice reaction time," she said sarcastically. She hauled him to his feet and forced him to face the mirror. "Look at yourself, dammit. Bloodshot eyes." She grabbed a newly formed roll of fat around his middle. "Out of shape." She spun him to face her. "And not the head of the class anymore, are you Bristow? We were married for 10 f*cking years and you didn't recognize me in disguise."
With a shove she deposited him heavily back in the chair. "You. ass." she spat. "If Kendall catches you, which right now he could do with one hand tied behind his back, you'll spend the rest of your life in prison. If Sloane writes you off as a security risk, which you are, you're dead."
She stepped back, surveying Jack, his expression mulish. "I'll ask you one more time. What are you playing at?"
Jack was silent for a long moment. "You wouldn't understand," he muttered rebelliously, not meeting her eyes. "Get the hell out of here and leave me alone."
Irina's jaw clenched. "Wouldn't understand?" she repeated tensely. "I understand a hell of a lot better than you think, Jack."
She leaned over him and spoke so softly that he had to strain to hear her. "It started when you made that one decision to protect Sydney, a betrayal of everything you were to protect the one person most dear to you. And you convinced yourself that the pain, the searing pain that was turning you inside out, would soon be over." She saw his eyes, startled, following her. "But it didn't end, did it? Because each day you woke up, knowing you'd have to betray yourself once more. And after a while, you were willing to do anything to deaden the pain, even for a while, because you knew that when you woke up the next morning, it would start all over again."
She took a step back and regarded him somberly. "And that's why you were drinking tonight, wasn't it? To forget. Because tomorrow it starts all over again."
Jack stared at her, stunned. "How did you - ,"
"Know? You wouldn't understand," came Irina's terse reply.
Jack didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, Irina could barely hear him. "I didn't know it would be so hard," he said in a low voice. "I'd been through so much before..." He didn't elaborate on the 'before'. "But the things I've done..." He looked up, mingled pain and confusion in his eyes. "Will...will it ever get easier?" Jack asked quietly.
Irina exhaled slowly. "You don't want it to become easier, Jack. If it becomes easier you've lost who you are. After a while...after a while you'll begin to treasure the pain as a reminder that you haven't yet died inside, that you're different from those around you."
She leaned closer again and said with intensity. "But you can survive it. You *will* survive it. You have a future, Jack. Fight back. Don't. give. up."
Jack looked at her bitterly. "Easy for you to say. Fight for my future? I'm now a wanted criminal that can expect the death penalty if I step back into the US. Sydney, when she wakes up...," his voice trailed off as an arrested expression appeared on his face, "...will hate me for what I've done," he said slowly, looking at Irina as if seeing her for the first time.
Irina returned his gaze steadily. "No, it was not easy for me to say."
"Oh, God," breathed Jack.
"I might understand," she agreed sardonically
Silence stretched between them.
"I'm sorry," Jack whispered.
"Me, too," she responded quietly, gently squeezing his shoulder. "Just don't forget - you're not alone. We're in this together." Irina began gathering her things in preparation to leave.
Jack watched her wistfully. "Irina?"
She paused and looked up.
"Don't go yet. Please."
"Bad, is it?" asked Irina, with sympathy. "Sit down, and drink this." She poured a hot, steaming drink from a thermos.
Jack sniffed it suspiciously, then nodded. Coffee, with a few other things thrown in. "Unlock the handcuffs," he snapped as he staggered into a chair.
Irina stepped back and surveyed him. "What will you do with your hands free?"
"Probably strangle you," admitted Jack, not feeling up to lying.
"Thought so," said Irina. "We'll keep them on for the time being." She approached him with the coffee, and gestured for him to drink from the cup. He pulled his head back abruptly.
"Unh uh. You think I trust you to pour hot coffee down my throat? Without spilling?" Jack gestured downward with his eyes, a meaningful expression on his face.
Irina sighed with exasperation. "Stop being such a baby." But she fetched a hand towel from the bathroom and laid it over his lap. Once more she lifted the cup and held it carefully while Jack sipped, neither saying a word as he slowly regained his strength. After two cups he pulled back his head and indicated he was done.
"Better?" she asked, concern in her voice.
Jack nodded.
"Alright then, you idiot," Irina hissed angrily, her manner changing abruptly. "What the hell are you playing at?"
"What am *I* playing at?" asked Jack incredulously. "Can I remind you that *I'm* the one who's been assaulted for the last 30 minutes?"
"When you crawl into a bottle it takes some effort to pull you out," replied Irina tightly. "I needed to talk to you. Sober. It looked like it was going to be a long wait."
"I'm 54 years old. You are my *ex*-wife. I fail to see how a 1-night binge is any concern of yours."
"Oh, but it's not a 1-night binge, is it Jack?" replied Irina in a low, dangerous voice. "Almost two months. Rotating bars so that the bartenders won't recognize you. Carried home 8 times by your security detail."
A dull flush crept up Jack's neck as he absorbed the accuracy of Irina's information. "You've been having me followed?" he demanded, incensed. "Why? Wanted to see who I've been sleeping with?"
Irina smiled derisively. "Nice try, Jack. The state you've been in, it would be the easiest money a whore ever earned," she said, eyes flicking mockingly towards his lap.
"Enough!" Jack roared, his face now scarlet. "Unlock these cuffs and get the hell out of here!"
"Oh no, Jack. Not *enough*. We're just getting started," taunted Irina.
Jack lunged out of the chair in fury, trying to knock her down. She easily sidestepped him and clipped him on the head as he went by. He staggered but kept his footing and wheeled, facing her once again. One of his feet shot out, but Irina was no longer there. In one smooth motion she dodged his blow and countered with her own, connecting with his knee. With a grunt of pain, Jack collapsed to the floor, breathing heavily.
"Nice reaction time," she said sarcastically. She hauled him to his feet and forced him to face the mirror. "Look at yourself, dammit. Bloodshot eyes." She grabbed a newly formed roll of fat around his middle. "Out of shape." She spun him to face her. "And not the head of the class anymore, are you Bristow? We were married for 10 f*cking years and you didn't recognize me in disguise."
With a shove she deposited him heavily back in the chair. "You. ass." she spat. "If Kendall catches you, which right now he could do with one hand tied behind his back, you'll spend the rest of your life in prison. If Sloane writes you off as a security risk, which you are, you're dead."
She stepped back, surveying Jack, his expression mulish. "I'll ask you one more time. What are you playing at?"
Jack was silent for a long moment. "You wouldn't understand," he muttered rebelliously, not meeting her eyes. "Get the hell out of here and leave me alone."
Irina's jaw clenched. "Wouldn't understand?" she repeated tensely. "I understand a hell of a lot better than you think, Jack."
She leaned over him and spoke so softly that he had to strain to hear her. "It started when you made that one decision to protect Sydney, a betrayal of everything you were to protect the one person most dear to you. And you convinced yourself that the pain, the searing pain that was turning you inside out, would soon be over." She saw his eyes, startled, following her. "But it didn't end, did it? Because each day you woke up, knowing you'd have to betray yourself once more. And after a while, you were willing to do anything to deaden the pain, even for a while, because you knew that when you woke up the next morning, it would start all over again."
She took a step back and regarded him somberly. "And that's why you were drinking tonight, wasn't it? To forget. Because tomorrow it starts all over again."
Jack stared at her, stunned. "How did you - ,"
"Know? You wouldn't understand," came Irina's terse reply.
Jack didn't respond immediately. When he finally spoke, Irina could barely hear him. "I didn't know it would be so hard," he said in a low voice. "I'd been through so much before..." He didn't elaborate on the 'before'. "But the things I've done..." He looked up, mingled pain and confusion in his eyes. "Will...will it ever get easier?" Jack asked quietly.
Irina exhaled slowly. "You don't want it to become easier, Jack. If it becomes easier you've lost who you are. After a while...after a while you'll begin to treasure the pain as a reminder that you haven't yet died inside, that you're different from those around you."
She leaned closer again and said with intensity. "But you can survive it. You *will* survive it. You have a future, Jack. Fight back. Don't. give. up."
Jack looked at her bitterly. "Easy for you to say. Fight for my future? I'm now a wanted criminal that can expect the death penalty if I step back into the US. Sydney, when she wakes up...," his voice trailed off as an arrested expression appeared on his face, "...will hate me for what I've done," he said slowly, looking at Irina as if seeing her for the first time.
Irina returned his gaze steadily. "No, it was not easy for me to say."
"Oh, God," breathed Jack.
"I might understand," she agreed sardonically
Silence stretched between them.
"I'm sorry," Jack whispered.
"Me, too," she responded quietly, gently squeezing his shoulder. "Just don't forget - you're not alone. We're in this together." Irina began gathering her things in preparation to leave.
Jack watched her wistfully. "Irina?"
She paused and looked up.
"Don't go yet. Please."